The First Victim

CHAPTER 19

On Monday morning-one week to the day since Melissa had last been seen-Ernest Zulia, the manager of Geribaldi’s Equipment, made the morning news by exploding into several thousand pieces. The shock waves were felt at Public Safety.

Boldt met with Captain Sheila Hill in her office. Hill still turned heads at age forty. She understood how to dress for her athletic body and wasn’t above using her legs as a distraction. She came down hard on Boldt over Zulia’s death, but Boldt wouldn’t be drawn into it.

‘‘The Zulia surveillance was pulled, Captain,’’ Boldt complained, reminding her of what he had been told only minutes before by his detective. ‘‘We had a crew watching Geribaldi’s Equipment and they were removed from duty under orders.’’ Hill had given that order. Bobbie Gaynes had been told to cancel the surveillance, pulling an end run on LaMoia and Boldt, neither of whom had been informed of the decision. It wasn’t something for which he could out and out blame her, but they both knew the score. He understood perfectly well that she had called him to her office for damage repair. He also knew that although she could invent any number of excuses for her decision, she had probably canceled the surveillance out of a combination of budget considerations and politics. Knowing Sheila Hill, she resented LaMoia not consulting her on the original surveillance and so had exercised her authority as a means of proving who was in charge. But now she had another dead body on her hands and live newscasts tying this and the ship captain to the container-a political hot potato. Unfortunately, Boldt thought there was more at play than met the eye. LaMoia had bedded down Hill a year earlier in an act of poor judgment and primitive instincts that had left her calling the shots and nearly destroying the man’s career. An odd relationship still existed between the two-LaMoia had suffered the breakup hard; Hill had eventually sought to reconcile. She tended to spoil him; he tended to ignore her, his captain. Only Boldt knew of the affair, though many on the squad suspected. When LaMoia slipped up, Boldt, as the man’s lieutenant, heard about it-but lately Hill seemed to be using him more as a marriage counselor. She wanted LaMoia back. If there was hell to pay for the investigation’s woes, it was for Boldt to sort out.

At the time of the ‘‘accident,’’ Zulia had been in the seat of a propane-powered forklift, as he was every morning, according to his employees. The explosion caused flames to rise three hundred feet in the air, and total destruction to one-third of Geribaldi’s inventory and most of its warehouse. For the first time since a string of arsons several years earlier, there was no physical evidence of the victim found by SID. Along with firemen, they searched the rubble hoping for bone fragments.

‘‘You don’t like John running operations without consulting you,’’ Boldt stated, speaking plainly. ‘‘Point taken.’’

‘‘We have to deal with this,’’ she reminded, glancing at him sternly, but not wanting to invite discussion of the relationship. She left it up to him to offer some kind of way out of the mishap. At last, he saw a compromise position.

He said, ‘‘The missing television news reporter, Melissa Chow, is a far more pressing case than someone like Zulia. Once he returned to work, we could have picked up Zulia anytime.’’

‘‘Go on,’’ she encouraged.

‘‘The reporter gets a lead on the illegals and then vanishes. Not only could any information she have be pertinent to the investigation, but there’s a young woman’s life at stake. It has been a week.’’

‘‘So we shifted manpower,’’ she stated as if it were fact. She liked where he was going with this.

Boldt kept silent. He’d fed her the bone; he didn’t need to chew it with her. As a sergeant Boldt had rarely been privy to such negotiations. One more reason he hated his lieutenant’s shield. Politics made him nauseous. The fieldwork-active investigations-was a much more pure environment.

Boldt offered, ‘‘Her disappearance may be tied to the deaths of two key witnesses in this investigation. She’s of primary importance to us.’’

‘‘She certainly is,’’ Hill agreed. ‘‘We moved our resources to this missing persons case.’’

‘‘I wouldn’t mention this out of the house. We don’t want to put her at any more risk.’’

‘‘Point taken. So get on it,’’ she said.

Boldt, LaMoia and Gaynes met behind closed doors.

‘‘Saturday I tell Mama Lu we’d like to chat up Zulia,’’ Boldt said. ‘‘And look what Monday morning brings.’’

‘‘I wouldn’t go there, Sarge,’’ LaMoia cautioned. ‘‘It’s these video tapes McNeal lifted from the woman’s apartment. That’s evidence-if we can get a judge to agree.’’

‘‘Good luck,’’ Gaynes sniped.

‘‘I’m not ‘going’ there,’’ Boldt complained. ‘‘I’m being led there.’’

‘‘It was a pro hit,’’ Gaynes reminded LaMoia. ‘‘Zulia climbed onto that same forklift every morning. They knew exactly what they were doing.’’

‘‘Someone told him it was okay to return to work,’’ Boldt suggested, still focused on Mama Lu’s involvement.

‘‘There are plenty of pros who have no association with Mama Lu,’’ LaMoia said.

‘‘Why are you constantly defending her?’’ Boldt complained.

‘‘I’m not defending her,’’ LaMoia objected. ‘‘I’m trying not to jump to conclusions. The guy I learned from,’’ he said, meaning Boldt, ‘‘stressed the importance of following the evidence, of listening to the victim.’’

Boldt nodded. ‘‘Two potential witnesses killed in the last four days. They’re cleaning house, taking care of loose ends. Maybe Mama Lu is too easy, and maybe she’s good for this, but you’re right about following the evidence,’’ he conceded. ‘‘I’m listening.’’

Gaynes said, ‘‘Maybe I made too much fuss at Geribaldi’s. Anybody working there might have known we were interested in talking up Zulia.’’

‘‘So we question the employees,’’ Boldt said. ‘‘What else?’’ the teacher quizzed.

LaMoia answered, ‘‘Canvass the neighborhood.’’

Gaynes said, ‘‘Look for moving violations in the area.’’

LaMoia said, ‘‘And this missing woman?’’

Boldt answered, ‘‘According to Hill, she’s our top priority.’’

LaMoia said nothing. Message received: Boldt was playing shortstop.

Boldt said, ‘‘Let’s work McNeal. We need her cooperation.’’ The hum of Homicide continued on the other side of the glass, the way traffic noise was a permanent part of the urban backdrop. ‘‘If we find Chow while she’s still alive,’’ Boldt said hopefully, ‘‘then maybe we blow the illegals case wide open.’’

‘‘She’s alive,’’ Gaynes stated, leaving a moment of silence for this to sink in. ‘‘Or we would have found her body already-same as the others. These guys aren’t shy. They’re making statements. They don’t want anyone talking about any of this. But if she is alive, and they have her, and they know what she was up to, then God pity her. She might wish she was dead.’’

‘‘I’m telling you,’’ LaMoia said. ‘‘We want a look at those videotapes. If we can’t get a judge, then we sweet-talk McNeal-’’

‘‘Daffy,’’ Boldt said. Matthews could sweet-talk a pet viper.

‘‘But we get a look at those videotapes one way or the other.’’