Killer Heat

TWENTY-EIGHT

What do you mean Amber won't be back?" Mike asked. "We're talking about Elise Huff, I thought."

Kiernan had seated himself in the armchair in the corner after Mike calmed him down. If he had read a paper or heard a newscast in the last few weeks, he had missed all of the crime stories or was playing a good game

And I thought you didn't know anything else about her. I'll get back to Elise. Maybe when you listen to the cell phone messages you left her, it'll tweak your memory," Mike said, trying to completely unhinge his subject, jumping around from one sensitive topic to the other.

Elise's cell phone had never been recovered, but from the way Kiernan's legs started bouncing, he didn't want to be reminded of their exchanges

How long have you known Amber? He was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place. He had no reason to think we knew anything about Amber and was clearly blindsided by Mike's reference to her

I've met her a couple of times."

"Where?"

"The Head. I helped my dad run it before we opened down here."

"How long have you known about their relationship?" Kiernan closed his eyes and thought for almost a minute. "What relationship would that be? She was a friend. Everybody likes my dad. Everybody. Then we opened Ruffles, and she'd drop in to say hello sometimes when she was downtown. Mike rolled the desk chair over to sit face-to-face with Kiernan. "Did Amber get booted from the Head?"

"Did she tell you that?"

Mike kept staring at Kiernan.

"Okay, okay. You're asking me. Maybe she did. She couldn't hold her liquor. Kept saying a lot of stupid things. Embarrassing things."

"What did you mean when you said she isn't coming back?"

"She went home. Amber comes from some Podunk town out west. My dad told me-no, no, forget my dad. I guess I heard from my brother Danny or one of the guys who works at the Head that she finally figured out she had no frigging future hanging around waiting for some married man to give it up for her. That totally wasn't happening, get it? It was over."

"Did you see her before she left?"

"She came in here a couple of times this summer. I'm easy with the free drinks," Kiernan said, forcing a smile. "Look, why are you asking me about Amber?"

The music from downstairs was louder now. So was the crowd, shouting over the noise from the jukebox. The buzz from the sidewalk in front of the bar was also heavier.

"Nobody's seen her in a few weeks."

"I'm telling you, she's gone home."

"Convince me. How do you know that for sure?"

Kiernan Dylan's feet were tapping on the floor. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at the ceiling. " 'Cause I packed up some stuff for her, okay? 'Cause she asked me to throw out some of her weird, freaky-her stuff, okay? 'Cause she was never coming back to use it- she told me that herself."

I tried not to react as Kiernan admitted that he had been the person-or one of the people-who had so carefully sanitized Amber Bristol's tiny apartment.

Then he leaned in and looked at Mike. "And she sure as hell didn't want that pervert superintendent who was always looking to jump her bones to make any trouble for her after she was gone."

Vargas Candera. The guy who had a penchant for beating his girlfriend.

"So you were just being a Good Samaritan," Mike said. "You weren't trespassing or, say, breaking into Amber's pad, were you?"

"You're looking to screw me, aren't you? You don't get me one way, you try to do it the next. Maybe I need to call a lawyer."

"Maybe so. Your old man must have a hotline to some jerk for every time he gets a summons in his place. You got a car, Kiernan?"

"What?"

"A car. To get back and forth to Breezy Point. To get rid of the things Amber asked you to."

"Yeah. I need it for business. For picking up liquor and supplies. Sure I got one."

"What do you drive?"

"A minivan, 2005 Ford."

Mike was thinking the same thing I was. The perfect vehicle for moving a body or two from one place to another.

"Where do you keep it?"

"On the street. I park on the street."

"What's the tag?" Mike said, taking out his notepad to write down the plate number.

Kiernan put his head back again and recited the letters and digits. He swallowed hard and looked at Mike again.

"It's nearby? You mind if we look at it tonight?"

"I-uh-I don't have it anymore."

"You just lost me," Mike said, lowering his head and rubbing his eyes.

"It was stolen. It was stolen about ten days ago."

"Your van was stolen? From where?"

"Not far from here. Near the Bowery, a few blocks away."

"You got a copy of the police report?"

"That's the thing. I haven't made one yet."

"You what?"

"I haven't had time. It's been crazy busy here at work."

"You run a bar, Kiernan, not a hedge fund. Once you've made sure the place is stocked with booze and you got somebody who can pour the damn stuff, what the hell else do you have to do? Tell me the real reason you haven't called the police, that's what I want to know. 'Cause you didn't want to open this whole can of worms, right? Big, fat, juicy, lying, cheating Dylan worms."

The young man's anxiety was mounting. He was wiggling in his seat, looking at the telephone as though deciding whom he should call before he got himself in any deeper.

"How much longer are you two gonna be here? I'm through answering your questions. I need to use the bathroom, okay?"

"Coop, check it out."

I walked to the door Kiernan pointed at, near the entrance. Mike wanted me to make sure it wasn't another staircase or exit, that there was no telephone inside and nothing Kiernan could use to hurt himself.

There was only a toilet and a sink. When I said it was okay, the young man practically mowed me down getting inside and latching the door.

Mike was on his feet. "I'm taking him in."

"You're going to collar him now?"

"Got to."

"Don't do it. He's giving you all kinds of stuff, hoping you leave his father alone, I guess. It's all good-he's tying himself up in knots. He'll clam up faster than lightning the minute you arrest him."

"He's giving us bullshit," Mike said, running his fingers through his hair. He was beginning to look as weary as I felt.

"That's fine. Don't you want to keep it coming? Why shut it off?" I tried to get Mike to look at me but he paced around me.

" 'Cause we can turn him, that's why. Have some leverage. If he's protecting someone else, he won't have the balls to stick with it. Lock him up and-"

"For?"

"For serving alcohol to minors. For burglarizing Amber Bristol's apartment."

"Prove that."

"He just admitted it."

"No, he didn't, Mike. He denied it. He said Amber asked him to do it for her. How the hell do I prove she didn't, now that she's dead?"

"You're the lawyer. You're so goddamn smart you can find me a crime."

"I like it this way. He's spinning in circles. He'll dig himself a little deeper, and I can use each and every contradiction, each and every inconsistency, in front of a jury. You put him in cuffs and we'll have to read him his rights. End of story."

"Ever been to Breezy Point?"

"No."

Mike was talking fast and Kiernan seemed in no rush to leave the bathroom. "It's a private community."

"That can't be. It's part of New York City."

"Thirty-five hundred homes. The whole damn neighborhood is a privately owned cooperative. The houses, the streets, the beaches- every inch of the place is private. It's got the highest concentration of Irish-Americans in the United States. More than 60 percent. Boozy Point, as they say about themselves. You'll get no help out there. They'll circle the wagons around Jimmy Dylan and his boys, I can guarantee you that."

"Then we can-"

"You don't even know how to get there, do you?"

"What difference does that make?"

"Take the Belt Parkway for starters. Very close to where Elise Huff's body was dumped."

"Mike, I agree the kid looks good for this," I said, pulling on his arm to hold him in place. "But let's slow down and try to build a case."

"What? Leave him out so he can destroy evidence? So he can skip town, like that doctor you didn't fight to put behind bars? Half the Dylan family is still in Ireland. They'll take Kiernan in with open arms. C'mon, Coop. You've fallen for that crap before."

"Lock him up for a couple of misdemeanors and he'll still be out of jail before you finish your paperwork on the arrest. It's been a long day. Let's get some rest and look at it fresh in the morning."

"I don't want to argue the point with you. You don't like it? Take a hike. I'm not half as tired as you are." Mike was peeved at me, perhaps for personal reasons, and ready to dismiss me.

"You ought to lay off him and let me go at him for a while. Different style."

"Bottom line is, I'm bringing him in."

"Not for murder."

"Of course not. But I just can't take the chance that we leave him out here when three women are dead and he's got a clear connection to two of them. At least we can shut this place down and have the SLA pull the license so nobody else gets hurt."

The bathroom door opened and Kiernan Dylan slowly walked over to us.

"I'm not answering any more of your questions, okay? I'd like you to get out of here."

I put out my hand to grab Mike's arm but he pulled away.

"We're leaving, Kiernan. But you're coming with us."

"What the fuck does that mean?" He was fired up now.

Mike flipped open his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Mercer. "C'mon inside. Ask for Charlie, the bartender, and tell him Kiernan wants you to come upstairs."

There was nothing close enough for the young man to throw or kick this time. "What'd I do?"

"Let's start with your liquor license. We'll worry about the dead girl later."

"You arresting me? Is that what you're telling me?"

"You act like a gent and I won't cuff you in front of all your friends. You're going to leave here and come back to my office to talk to us."

"I want to make a phone call."

"You'll get your call," Mike said, "as soon as we get up to the squad."

The door opened and Mercer entered the room. The fact that he was bigger and taller than Kiernan Dylan was comforting to me, and surprising to the angry young man.

"Coop, you go on ahead. Call Peterson and tell him we're on the way. The precinct needs to send a squad car to come by and keep things quiet," Mike said. "And get the bar car back ASAP to get as many names and identifications as they can.

"Mercer, you and I will flank Mr. Dylan here as we walk through the crowd of his admirers. No cuffs as long as he behaves. And you, sir, you can tell your man Charlie to make it last call in about ten minutes, once we're out of the way. You think your pit bulls are guarding the door?"

Dylan was speechless now. He nodded his head.

"Well, just tell them to be cool with this while we leave here and the rest will go down easy."

I worked my way through the bar area and out onto the street. I crossed to the curb on the far side of Mercer's car and made the call to Lieutenant Peterson.

Minutes later, the front door of Ruffles opened and Mercer stepped out, followed by Dylan and Mike. Kiernan told the two rough-looking men in black on either side of the entrance that he was going off with the police.

The line of patrons waiting to get in was almost a block long. Several kids recognized Kiernan and shouted out his name. Near the front of the group were four guys who seemed to be friends of his. One called out, saying they had come to meet him and asking where he was going. Kiernan hesitated, and Mike and Mercer paused with him.

The dark-skinned bouncer told the group to shut up. "Back off," he said. "They're cops."

The most vocal of the foursome took his cell phone from his pocket and aimed its little camera lens at the departing trio, framing them under the Ruffles sign as his flash went off.

"Get ready to hit the gas, Mercer. Coop, you're riding in front." Mike opened the rear door of the car and got into the backseat with Kiernan. "The last thing I meant to do tonight was stage a perp walk.