Chapter 77

Devine got Myers’s home address from the company database he had previously hacked into. He lived on Staten Island. They cabbed over, and Devine had the driver drop them off about a block from the house. It was situated in a neighborhood of working-class homes.

“He’s got a new ride,” said Devine, eyeing the silver Ford F-150 pickup truck in the driveway with temporary tags. “Wonder where he got the money for that?”

“I doubt he’ll volunteer it,” said Montgomery.

“I can be persuasive.”

They knocked on the door, but no one answered. They looked in the small backyard. It was empty except for an old pickup truck up on cinder blocks. There was a one-car garage, but the doors were locked. Devine peered in the window but didn’t see anything helpful.

“Maybe he has another car,” said Montgomery.

“Maybe, but I doubt it. He’s not married and lives alone, the security guard at Cowl told me.”

“Can I help you?” the voice said.

They looked around to see a woman standing on the front porch of the house next door. She had on leggings and a long T-shirt. She was in her twenties with a baby riding on one hip.

“We were looking for Jerry,” said Devine. “We were supposed to meet for a beer, but he didn’t show.”

She gazed over at the house. “It’s funny. He was supposed to help my husband with a project we’re doing in the backyard. When he didn’t show up this morning we called and went over there, but it’s all locked up and Jerry didn’t answer his phone.”

“Does he have another car?”

“No, he bought that new Ford. It’s a beauty. A King Ranch model with lots of bells and whistles. My husband Barry says it musta cost around sixty thousand.”

“Wow,” said Devine.

“Yeah. He works at some big muckety-muck company in the city. Jerry said they gave out big bonuses to everybody.”

“But if this is his only ride, he must be inside. Do you think he’s sick or something?”

A large, beefy man came out onto the front porch.

The woman said, “Barry, these people were supposed to meet Jerry for a beer. But no one answered. Now I’m getting worried.”

Barry looked over at Myers’s house and the truck. He eyed Devine. “Should we call the cops?”

“Maybe we should check first. If he’s in there sleeping off a bender the cops will not be happy with us.”

“Good point. Jerry likes his beer for sure.”

He and Devine went up on Myers’s front porch, and Devine studied the door and the glass side panel.

“This is the easiest way.” He put his elbow through the glass, cleared out the shards, reached through, and undid the lock.

Barry opened the door and they stepped through.

“Hey, Jer, it’s Barry from next door. You okay—” Barry sucked in a breath and blanched.

“What the hell is that smell?”

Devine knew exactly what it was. “Go call the cops, Barry.”

“What?”

“The cops. Call them. We have a situation.”

“What situation?”

Devine peered around a corner and into the small kitchen. “A dead-body situation.”

Jerry Myers will never get to enjoy his new pickup truck.


Two hours later the house was swarming with police and a forensic scrub team. Devine had thought to call Detective Shoemaker. He was off today, but he and Ekman showed up anyway. They met up outside the house.

“The dead guy is Jerry Myers, the custodian at Cowl who found Sara Ewes’s body,” explained Devine while Montgomery leaned against a patrol car. “Looks like somebody killed him.”

The detectives went into the house and came back out thirty minutes later.

Shoemaker said, “The prelim from the ME is some sort of poison. Frothing on the lips, color of the skin. He was on the kitchen floor. There was an open bottle of whisky on the counter and some in a glass. We’re having it all analyzed.”

“What’s the TOD?” asked Devine.

“Prelim is about six thirty last night.”

“Did anybody see anything?” asked Montgomery.

“Not so far.”

“But why kill the janitor?” asked Ekman.

Devine said, “Because I think Myers killed Sara Ewes late on Thursday night. Then, on Friday morning, he ‘finds’ the body, which makes him pretty much above suspicion.”

“Jesus,” exclaimed Shoemaker. “We never thought about that angle.”

“I wouldn’t have either, except for her,” said Devine, motioning to Montgomery.

Ekman eyed Montgomery suspiciously. “And how do you figure into this?”

“I was Brad Cowl’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, you were, were you?”

Devine said, “She’s working with us on this. And we came out here because something Myers told me didn’t add up.”

“Like what?” asked Shoemaker.

Devine told him Myers said he had gone into the storage closet because someone had requested a printer cartridge.

“But there was no one on the floor that morning because of a seminar at the Ritz. So there was no one to ask Myers to get anything. I think they knew about the seminar and picked that day because of it. That way there would be no one on the floor who might find the body. Myers also probably wanted a second chance to go over the crime scene to make sure there was nothing incriminating left there.”

And any forensics of his found there would seem innocent since he went in there and found the body,” added Ekman.

“Right.”

“Pretty slick plan,” said Shoemaker. “But why kill Ewes? Were they having an affair? Was he a jealous stalker who wanted to be with Ewes and she rebuffed him? Is it just the old story of a rejected guy?”

“I might think so except for that.” Devine pointed at the brand-new F-150.

That was his payoff,” said Montgomery.

“And the fact that he was poisoned shows he was working with someone and that someone decided to get rid of that loose end,” opined Ekman.

“That the guy ran out and bought a new truck was probably not a good thing. The person who hired him might have been afraid the cops would take a second look at Myers, and he’d fall apart and start pointing fingers,” said Devine.

Shoemaker nodded. “We did check on the guy, always do when it’s the person who finds the body. You don’t need a security card to get in during regular business hours if you come through the front doors. Now, you need your security card at all times if you come in the rear. He said he came in the front doors at eight and left at five the same way, and took the ferry to Staten Island. The guard doesn’t remember specifically seeing him that day, but he did confirm that Myers always came and went by the front entrance. We had no reason to suspect him. Myers had no motive or opportunity, at least that we thought.”

“What about the building’s security cameras showing people coming and leaving?”

“Inconclusive. We checked the footage for that time, but there was a large group of people leaving around five and we couldn’t ID everybody, including him.”

“I can tell you from experience, Detective, that that footage isn’t worth the pixels it’s built on.”

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