Behind The Lies by Mark Beckner (top ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“Probably not, but it can’t hurt. I like to be thorough,” reasons Garcia.

“You’re right. Go ahead and set it up.”

By Wednesday afternoon, Garcia has set up an appointment to visit 64-year-old Mrs. Elaine Henderson, the woman who reported seeing a suspicious person in the neighborhood the night of the third attack by the Candy Man Killer. Garcia and Ricci knock on her door at 2:00 in the afternoon. Mrs. Henderson invites both detectives in and offers them some sweet iced tea. Both politely decline.

“Mrs. Henderson, I would like to review your statement from two years ago about the suspicious person you observed in the neighborhood,” advises Garcia. “Can you please tell us what you thought was suspicious about him?”

“Well, it’s been some time ago now, but I remember I couldn’t sleep due to the heat that night. I got up and went to sit a bit on my front porch to get some, you know, fresh air and cool off.”

“Sure, go ahead,” encourages Garcia.

“As I was sitting there, I see this man come walking from around the corner, right down that way,” as she points east. “He then crosses the street and walks west to the corner of Edison, then heads north and out of sight.”

“What was suspicious about that?”

“It was just a feeling really. It was early morning and not many people are out at that time of day. He was dressed in dark clothing and just seemed a bit out of place.”

“Two years ago you said he walked with a limp.”

“Yes, yes he did. If I remember correctly, it appeared as though he was favoring his right leg.”

“And you said he had a beard?”

“Yes, it was a full beard, and he had a dark beret-type hat on.”

“Could you tell what race he was?”

“No. It was dark and with his beard and hat, I couldn’t tell. He never looked my way.”

“Okay, thank you Mrs. Henderson,” replies Garcia. “Do you also remember him wearing glasses?”

“Oh yes, it looked to me like dark-rimmed glasses, but I could not be sure. Again, it was very dark.”

“Anything else you can remember about him?”

“Only that he was a tall man, probably over six feet tall.”

“Do you remember what time it was?”

“I knew two years ago. I think it was sometime between two and three in the morning. Like I said, he just didn’t seem to belong in the neighborhood.”

“Mrs. Henderson, we appreciate your time,” thanks Garcia. “Here is my card. Please don’t hesitate to call if you remember anything else.”

As they are heading back to the station, Ricci asks Garcia if he learned anything from the interview.

“Sure, after two years of thinking about this, she still finds his presence suspicious. I’m not saying he is a suspect, but he was only three blocks from the scene at about the time we believe the attack occurred. You can’t just dismiss it.”

“Nope, you can’t dismiss it,” agrees Ricci.

For the next several days Ricci and Garcia continue to review the case files while also assisting with other homicide investigations. Being assigned a case did not relieve detectives from simultaneously working on other cases or in helping other detectives with interviews and follow-ups. It has been a busy week, with the Area 4 Division experiencing two more homicides. One, a domestic argument over an alleged affair by the husband led to the wife shooting him dead with a 9mm Smith and Wesson semi-automatic handgun. The second one being a shooting between two gang members, resulting in the death of a 17-year-old African American male over a theft of “happy dust,” a slang term for cocaine.

On the following Friday, Detective Jackson advises Ricci he has some information from the street. According to Jackson, there is new fear among street dealers that the Candy Man Killer may be back. Dealers are being more cautious over who they sell to. Some members of the Black Disciples are concerned someone is trying to start a new drug war, and if the police can’t handle the issue, they will take matters into their own hands. After Garcia returns from assisting on some interviews in the investigation of the gang shooting, Ricci fills him in on the new information.

“This can’t be good,” says Garcia.

“Oh, I don’t know Juan, there could be some value there,” muses Ricci.

“Like what?”

“Drug wars, so long as they are only killing each other helps us clean up the neighborhood a bit, don’t you think?”

Garcia pauses, “I suppose you could see it that way, but we really don’t want people shooting each other on our streets. Innocents will get killed as well.”

“I said only if they are killing each other. I don’t want anyone innocent getting hurt. But think about it, fewer drug dealers would mean fewer crackheads, fewer addictions, fewer drug overdoses. You do know these assholes prey on innocent people, right?”

“Sure I do, I grew up in this town. Drug dealers need to be taken off our streets, but not murdered,” challenges Garcia.

“Their drug pushing harms a lot of young people. A few less wouldn’t be a bad thing, that’s all I’m saying. I see too many young kids' lives ruined by hard drugs.”

Garcia lets it go, realizing Ricci has been dealing with the fall out of the drug trade much longer than he has. He knows Ricci has worked hundreds of drug overdoses, violent assaults, and homicides over the course of his long career. He surmises that Ricci probably has good reason to be a bit jaded.

Eighth Attack

The following Saturday it happens again; another apparent victim of the Candy Man Killer is found in a West Garfield Park neighborhood alley by a 13-year-old boy. Both Garcia and Ricci are called at 11:45 am to respond to the scene. Garcia arrives on the scene first and meets with Detective Sergeant Gloria Pennington. Patrol officers have already secured the scene and crime scene technicians are on their way to collect any evidence.

“Thanks for coming out Juan,” greets Sgt. Pennington. “It looks like the same M.O.