Looking Over Your Shoulder

CHAPTER 22

  “HOW ARE YOU FEELING today, Mr. VanRam?” Lovett questioned.

  “Pretty sore,” Abe said, “but a little better every day.”

  “You’re a very lucky man. Most people do not survive that kind of attack.”

  Abe nodded.

  “But sooner or later they’re going to figure out that I’m not dead, and come back after me again. And next time, they won’t be so sloppy.”

  “Which is why I need you to look at some pictures for me,” Lovett said. “See if we can find the guy that did this, and prevent him from coming back.”

  Abe sighed.

  “They’ll just send someone else.”

  “Always the chance that we can pick up this guy and turn him on the rest of the gang. You’d be surprised how many would-be assassins will sing, to get themselves out of lengthy prison sentences.”

  “I don’t want him to get out of a lengthy prison sentence.”

  “That’s why we hang him on something else. You leave the negotiating to me. I’ll do my best to protect you and your family from a repeat of this.”

  Abe grumbled something under his breath which Lovett pretended not to hear.

  “So I have your basic description of this guy. Tallish, shaven head, not too fat or anything. No facial hair or identifying features.”

  “I’ll know his face,” Abe said firmly. "I won’t ever forget it.”

  “Good. I want you to visualize him as clearly as you can in your mind. Just concentrate on your visual picture for a few moments.”

  Abe nodded impatiently.

  “Anything else you can tell me? Eye color? Eyebrows? The clothing he was wearing?”

  “Dark eyes. Dark eyebrows. Big nose. Wearing… t-shirt and blue jeans. Dark. Big gun.”

  “I already know all about the gun from the bullets they pulled out of you.”

  “An earring,” Abe said touching his own earlobes, eyes closed. “The… the right ear.”

  “Tattoos?” Lovett suggested.

  “No. Might have, but it was dark. Nothing clear.”

  “Good.”

  Lovett shuffled some pictures that he had brought with him around, and placed a series of six of them into a card stock holder that displayed them all in a photo array.

  “Okay. Open your eyes. I want you to look closely at each one. Consider. Remember that everybody changes slightly in appearance depending on light, dress, weight, age, that sort of thing. Little things can make a big difference; you need to look at each one carefully. And don’t be disappointed if he’s not in the first batch. We have lots of picture to go through.”

  Abe nodded. Lovett opened the cover of the photo array, so that Abe saw all of the pictures at once. Ursula held her breath. Abe looked at each face carefully, and shook his head.

  “No, not one of those.”

  Ursula let out her breath, disappointed. Of course it wasn’t going to be in the first set. But she had kind of hoped that it would. That there would be a blinding moment of recognition, and they would all cheer, and Lovett would go out and arrest him. But that wasn’t the way it was destined to be. Abe would probably be looking at pictures for hours. Or for as long as his body held out. He still wasn’t staying awake for long periods.

  “How about in this one?” Lovett questioned, and Ursula realized that he was already onto the next batch of pictures; she had completely missed the swapping out of the photographs, lost in her own thoughts.

  Abe put his finger on the holder, under one of the pictures. Everybody waited. Lovett made no move to approve the selection or to tell him who it was. Abe tapped his finger slowly.

  “That’s him,” he said with certainty. "That’s the gunman.”

  Lovett nodded.

  “You’re sure?”

  “One hundred percent. I saw his face, and I told you I’d never forget it.”

  “Excellent,” Lovett approved, taking the folder back and removing the photographs.

  “Who is he?” Abe questioned.

  “His name is Bruce Barry.”

  “Is he a hired killer?” Ursula questioned.

  “More hired muscle than a hired killer. He’s not that experienced - obviously - in hits. A real killer would be a lot more expensive. He’s skilled enough to get by, usually, but he’s not a professional hit man.”

  “Does he work for Mary Margaret?” Abe questioned.

  Ursula looked at Lovett, wondering whether this was something he was willing to reveal. Ursula hadn’t even told him that Lovett knew who Mary Margaret was, and that she was a jewel thief.

  “He’s been known to,” Lovett said flatly.

  “Show me pictures of other people who work with her. I want to know who else I’ve seen. Who else is involved.”

  Lovett shook his head.

  “I can’t do that. All identifications need to be done blind, like this one.”

  “So mix them in with other pictures. I’ve seen others, people following me. I want to get them all.”

  “We’ll see,” Lovett said. "I don’t want to prejudice the case. We need to figure out how to approach this… we don’t want to spook them and have them all go below ground.”

  “I’m not working with them,” Abe said. "I’m not the inside man. You know I wouldn’t turn them in to you, if I was the inside man, right? You believe me now.”

  Lovett licked his lips slowly.

  “I’ve seen members of the same gang turn on each other before,” he said. "They get greedy, or scared, they threaten each other, blackmail, all kinds of things. The whole ‘no honor among thieves’ thing is true. Turning against them doesn’t tell me that you weren’t involved. One of them has been killed already. Maybe by you. Maybe by Bruce Barry. We already know there has been some sort of disagreement or schism in the group.”

  Abe swore angrily.

  “I’m helping you!” he insisted. "How can you still suspect me when I’m helping you? Ursula knows that I didn’t do it; she’s helping you. Why don’t you believe her? I didn’t do it.”

  “We’ll get to the truth sooner or later,” Lovett promised. “If you weren’t involved, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Bull crap,” Abe snapped. “Innocent people get convicted every day!”

  “Not by me,” Lovett said. “Not on my watch.”

  Lovett jerked his head at Ursula as he walked out of the room. She followed him out, with Cairns bringing up the rear. Lovett glanced in at Abe once more, and turned to Ursula.

  “How much longer is he going to be here?” he questioned.

  “Here? In ICU? In hospital?”

  “Both.”

  “They’re talking about moving him out of ICU as early as tonight. He’s stable, just needs healing time. Out of hospital… well, I guess once they get him off of the IV and catheter and he’s able to be up and around.”

  “That’s not going to be very long either, I don’t think. He’s sleeping a lot, but he doesn’t seem as groggy on painkillers.”

  “They’ve reduced them by quite a lot already,” Ursula agreed. “Why?”

  “I think that you should get him out of here as soon as you can, and into a more secure facility.”

  Ursula was startled.

  “A secure facility?” she repeated. “You think he should be locked up? He’s pretty stable right now; they’ve got his meds going directly into the IV, so he can’t skip them. I think that a secure facility is-”

  “A secure facility,” Lovett said lowly, “would be safer for him.”

  “He’s not a danger-”

  “He may not be a danger to himself. But he is in danger,” Lovett said with emphasis.

  Ursula was pulled up short.

  “In danger from Bruce Barry. Is that what you mean?”

  Lovett nodded.

  “I don’t know how long it will take for us to track him down and arrest him. And I’m more sure now than ever that he will be back when they realize what a mess he made the first time. If Abe’s in a secure
facility, no one will be able to get in to see him without proper identification. In the hospital, especially once he’s out of ICU, it’s just going to be too easy.”

  Ursula’s breath was coming in gasps. Lovett put his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her.

  “It’s not time to start panicking. We just need to be careful. I’ve got people watching, but he’s not as safe as he would be if he was locked up.”

  Ursula nodded, unable to find her voice.

  “Do you think that you can convince him that it is the best thing for him? That it is a way to keep him from getting shot again until we bring all of the players in? All of the players, understand me? Not just Barry. Can you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll do my best.”

  Lovett nodded.

  “I know you will,” he agreed. “Like you said, he’s stable right now, so the only way to get him in there is if he agrees. I can’t 5150 him.”

  “Okay. I’ll find a way to convince him.”

  He released her shoulder.

  “Good girl,” he approved. He indicated his briefcase full of papers and pictures. “You leave me to this, to getting them all brought in. But it’s not like on TV. We can’t always track someone down in a day. And these guys are already jumpy.”

  “You do your job,” Ursula agreed. “I’ll do mine.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you come across any other clues or theories.”

  Ursula glanced at the caller I.D. on her phone, and sighed when she saw it was blocked. She hated answering it without knowing who it was, and was a little creeped out about blocked calls after hearing about Abe’s, but between the investigation and the institution that they had transferred Abe to, there were too many potentially important calls with blocked numbers for her to ignore it.

  “Hello?”

  “Mrs. VanRam, it’s Agent Lovett.”

  “Oh, hi.”

  “I believe you have a visitor.”

  Ursula glanced through the open doorway at Juneau and Theo. She had asked Juneau to stick around home if she and Theo were getting together, giving a lame excuse about how she might have to be called away instead of confessing her ridiculous suspicion that Theo could be involved in the jewel heist.

  “Yes,” she said cautiously, “he’s here.”

  “I’d like you to call Juneau out of the room.”

  Ursula turned and looked out the wide, brightly lit kitchen window. She couldn’t see anyone watching her, but obviously Lovett had somebody close enough by to see exactly where Theo and Juneau were.

  “Juneau,” Ursula’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, then called more loudly. "Juneau, could I talk to you for a minute?”

  Juneau gave an audible sigh, but she didn’t argue, just got up and came into the kitchen to see Ursula. She saw Ursula on the phone, and the disagreeable expression faded from her face.

  “Is it Dad?” she questioned.

  “No, it’s okay,” Ursula said. Her face must have been worried and pale. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, and it was obvious from Juneau’s expression that she recognized something was wrong.

  Then the world exploded around them. Black-suited figures swarmed from all directions, shouting and swarming into the living room, where in a few seconds, Theo was on the floor in handcuffs and leg irons. Juneau burst into tears, and Ursula held her close.

  “It’s okay, June,” Ursula said, kissing her cheek. "It’s okay, it’s all right. It’s just the police. Everything is all right.”

  For an instant, Ursula was worried about the younger kids being frightened, before she remembered that they were both out at a friend’s birthday party. Only Ursula and Juneau were home for now.

  “It’s just the police,” Ursula repeated in a whisper. “You’re safe. We’re all safe.”

  Juneau wiped at her eyes, calming down a bit.

  “What’s going on? Why are they arresting Theo?”

  “I don’t know,” Ursula said, somewhat truthfully. “We’ll find out.”

  Once all of the black tactical team officers had cleared out of the house, taking Theo with them, Agent Lovett came in to talk to them. He gestured for them to sit down, and they all sat around the now-vacated living room.

  “I’m sorry about all of this,” he said. “We could have waited until he left here and was alone, but we didn’t want to risk any harm to Juneau while he was here.”

  “Theo wouldn’t harm me,” Juneau said, shaking her head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “Is he… one of the jewel thieves?” Ursula asked tentatively.

  Juneau looked at Ursula incredulously.

  “You too?” she demanded. “I understand Dad, but you?”

  Ursula made calming motions with her hands.

  “Just listen, Juneau. There was a possibility that he could have been involved. A remote possibility.”

  Lovett shook his head.

  “No, he was not one of the jewel thieves,” he said.

  “Then what was this all about?” Ursula questioned.

  “Why did you arrest him?” Juneau demanded.

  “You wondered where he got the money for the diamond ring,” Lovett said to Ursula.

  “Yes. That seemed strange. It didn’t fit.”

  Ursula gave Juneau a quelling look when she opened her mouth to protest. Juneau remained silent, waiting for the explanation.

  “He cashed in a lottery ticket. Big money. Several millions.”

  “There’s nothing illegal about that,” Juneau said with a smirk of satisfaction.

  “No,” Lovett agreed. “Unless it isn’t your lottery ticket, and you murdered someone to get it.”

  Ursula and Juneau both sat there with their mouths open. Ursula was glad they were already sitting down. Even sitting, she felt weak-kneed.

  “Murdered someone,” she repeated weakly.

  Lovett nodded, looking at Juneau compassionately.

  “You, my dear, are lucky to be alive.”

  “Me?” Juneau questioned. "Why would I be dead? He loves me.”

  “He may,” Lovett said with a shrug, “but that doesn’t seem to stop him from hurting people. He appears to have a long history of ‘accidentally’ putting the people he loves in hospital. And there have been some… mysteriously unlucky deaths…”

  “Do you think those times that Juneau had allergic reactions,” Ursula questioned, having a hard time pushing the words out of her mouth. "Do you think that he was causing them on purpose?”

  Lovett nodded.

  “It would certainly appear that way. When you consider his history. Don’t know, maybe it’s Munchausen by Proxy. Maybe he just gets off on hurting people. But there have been too many accidental poisonings, falls down the stairs or from other heights, mixed-up medications.”

  “Is that what happened with this lottery winner?” Juneau asked, looking at Lovett intently. "He had an accident?”

  “It would appear that he accidentally drank a cyanide-spiked drink.”

  Ursula swore under her breath.

  “It was definitely murder, then.”

  “Oh yes. You don’t find cyanide just laying around the house. It was intentional.”

  Juneau and Ursula just sat there staring at him, wide-eyed.

  “It wasn’t until we started investigating Theo that we put it all together,” Lovett said. “So I owe you for that one. Even then, we’re lucky that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut on-line, or we still might not have been able to connect him with the man who bought the lottery ticket.

  Juneau started to shake.

  “Daddy was right,” she said, between half-sobs. “He kept saying that Theo was trying to hurt me, that it was his fault I kept getting contaminated. Daddy was right all along.”

  “Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you,” Lovett quoted. “Unfortunately, that turned out to be true in this case.”

  Ursula
gave Juneau another comforting hug.

  “I’m so thankful he didn’t use the cyanide on you,” she said breathlessly.

  Juneau nodded.

  “We might never have figured it out,” Lovett said. "Nobody would be looking for poison in someone with such severe allergies. You don’t generally find cyanide if you’re not looking for it.”

  “Did they look for it in this case?” Ursula said. “This lottery winner? That must have looked pretty suspicious.”

  “He apparently hadn’t told anyone - other than Theo - about his win yet. The fact that Theo was so concerned and helped his friend out at the scene, but then did not show up at the hospital like he said he would, that made them suspicious. So the assumed heart attack gets investigated just a little bit more thoroughly…”

  Ursula kissed the side of Juneau’s head.

  “I’m never letting you date again,” she said fervently.

  Juneau didn’t object, she just held onto Ursula, sobbing.

  Ursula escorted Lovett to the front door.

  “Did you manage to find out anything about that blocked phone call?” she questioned.

  “Unfortunately, no. Using the parameters that Mr. VanRam gave me… there were a number of blocked calls over that time period, and when I checked them, they were all clients and contacts that he is in regular contact with. Nothing suspicious that I could see. I hate to say it, but I think that the phone call might have been made up. He wanted to be able to give me a name, to put me onto the gang, but he was afraid to say that he was involved. So he makes up this phone call… or imagines it. I mean-” Lovett shook his head. "What are the chances that someone would accidentally pocket dial Abe while talking about him? It’s too far-fetched.”

  “Is there anything in this case that hasn’t been?” Ursula questioned, shaking her head.

  Lovett smiled slightly.

  “True. But this isn’t one that I can connect up at this point. I’ll keep on top of it, but right now… it’s not yielding any fruit.”

  “Okay. Well, thank you for looking into it.”

  “I’m hoping to make some arrests, possibly this weekend. We now have most of the members of the gang under surveillance. Just watching for a few days, we’ll see if they lead us to anyone else.”

  “Do you have Mary Margaret?”

  “She’s not very mobile any more. She’s an old lady, in a wheelchair a lot of the time. She’s not hard to track. She’s the brains, not the brawn.”

  “And Barry? The shooter?”

  “Yes, we’ve got pretty tight surveillance on him. He won’t get three steps toward you or Abe. I promise.”

  Ursula breathed out, relieved. She nodded.

  “Good. Thanks.”

  Lovett was ticking them off on his fingers.

  “And Bacardi is dead. We’ve also got eyes on Hernandez. He’s the hacker. He may be hard to track in cyberspace, but in the real world, he doesn’t move out of his computer chair very often. I’m hoping to also catch Harold Latoyez. But he’s a slippery one. He can smile and talk his way out of anything. If he realizes that there is a problem, he’s going to be in the wind. He may already be, since Bacardi’s death definitely spells trouble.”

  “Is he dangerous, if he gets away?”

  “He wouldn’t be coming after Abe. He’d just disappear.”

  Ursula nodded, reassured.

  “But you still don’t know who hired them.”

  “Nope. I’d really like to. It may come out in questioning, but I’d rather know ahead of time. Spring it on them and see what kind of a reaction I got.”

  “What if you never find out? Does Abe stay in danger?”

  Lovett sighed.

  “I supposed that depends whether he decides to stay quiet or not. Somebody is worried about him and his investigation. If we catch everybody else, and he just fades into the background, maybe it will be okay. But he doesn’t strike me as the type to stay quiet.”

  “And you don’t have anything that you can arrest him on,” Ursula double-checked.

  He shook his head.

  “No. It’s all circumstantial. Too unclear to proceed against him yet. If I was you… I would highly encourage him to shut up and lay low. He doesn’t do himself any favors by trying to convince us that he’s innocent.”

  * * *