[Lady Justice 17] - Lady Justice and the Pharaoh's Curse Read online

  “Well, hell, I guess I’d better get out there and take a look at the crime scene. Check with the Medical Examiner and see if Figg’s keys are on the body. If they are, go check out his place. You two know where it is. You took him home after our first interrogation.”

  We pulled up in front of Figg’s house, but unlike the last time, there were no reporters or TV crews.

  We peeked through the garage window.

  “Car’s there,” Ox observed, “so Figg must have been home when the killer came by.”

  “No sign of forced entry,” I said as we examined the front door, “so maybe Figg knew who it was and let him in.”

  Ox turned the key in the lock and the moment the door opened, the unmistakable smell of death hit our noses.

  “Oh, boy!” Ox said. “Smells like we’ve got another one.”

  We pulled our service weapons and stepped quietly inside.

  Lying on the living room floor in a pool of blood was a young woman. She was on her back, staring at the ceiling through lifeless eyes. There was a hole in her forehead and in her chest.

  “Geez,” Ox muttered. “We know her. That’s --- uhhh ---.”

  “Rhonda Reams,” I replied, finishing his sentence. “She’s the hooker who said that Figg was with her the night that Bernard Maloof was murdered.”

  “Bet that’s the murder weapon,” Ox said, pointing to a .38 a few feet from her body.

  “I’ll call it in. Looks like the crime scene guys will be working overtime today.”

  After I made the call, I noticed that Ox was still just standing there looking at the body with a perplexed expression on his face.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “That’s number four, and every one of them have been up to their armpits in this Anubis thing. As much as I hate to admit it, maybe there is something to this pharaoh’s curse.”

  The next morning, after squad meeting, we met with Detective Blaylock in the captain’s office.

  “Forensics worked late for me last night,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “You won’t believe what they came up with. The .38 was the murder weapon all right and the only fingerprints they found on it were Figgs. As soon as I heard, I called Doc Grimm and had him check Figg’s hands for gunshot residue. Sure enough, the test was positive.”

  “So Figg shot Rhonda Reams?” Ox asked, surprised.

  “That’s what the evidence is telling us anyway. I figured all along that Figg had paid her for his phony alibi. When Reams saw how much Figg was raking in from all those book sales and personal appearances, I’ll bet she went to his house and told him she wanted more money or she’d go to the cops. Instead of paying her, Figg shut her up permanently.”

  “I can see how that could happen,” I said, “but then who killed Figg and why? If it was a friend of Rhonda’s evening the score, why take Figg’s body halfway across town and bury it in sand with a scorpion in his mouth?”

  “By the way,” Ox asked, “what was the cause of death on Figg?”

  “Asphyxiation. The hyoid bone was broken. He was choked to death before he was buried in the sand.”

  “Thank goodness,” Ox said, obviously relieved.

  We all looked at him questioningly.

  “That damned curse. I knew it was a bunch of crap. Mummies ghosts don’t shoot .38s and choke somebody to death.”

  “Yeah, I think we can rule out ghosts,” Blaylock replied, “but now we have four unsolved homicides and our prime suspect in three of them is dead and we don’t know why.”

  “Was there any sign of the Anubis or the treasure that was supposed to be buried inside at Figg’s house?”

  “Not a trace. We only have circumstantial evidence that Figg had the damned thing in his possession and even if he did, we have no way of knowing if he knew what was supposed to be inside.”

  “It doesn’t really matter whether or not Figg knew about the treasure,” I said. “If someone did know about it and knew that Figg had the Anubis, that would explain a lot.”

  “But the only people that know about the treasure are Dr. Grimm, the people in this room and the dead guys,” Blaylock replied. “At least as far as we know.”

  As far as we know, I thought. I had another idea, but I wanted to wait until we were alone to tell Ox.

  CHAPTER 13

  Gary Fricke picked up a sparkling gemstone. “How much do you think something like this is worth?”

  “No idea, but it’s got to be a boatload,” Rollins replied. “All this gold and these gemstones have to be worth a fortune, but you know we can’t touch any of it until everything dies down. As long as that damned Anubis is missing and those four murders are unsolved, this stuff is red hot.”

  “Well, three of the murders should be in the bag. Blaylock has to have known by now that Figg offed the two boys to boost his book sales, and I’ll have to give you credit, taking Figg’s body back to his apartment and firing another round into the chest of the dead hooker was a stroke of genius. With the GSR on his hands and his fingerprints on the gun, Blaylock will have to figure that Reams came to Figg’s place to shake him down for more dough to keep quiet about his phony alibi, and he whacked her to keep her quiet.”

  “True enough, but now Blaylock is going to be wondering who killed Figg and why. That’s still a big lose end. We need to figure a way to tie that up.”

  As soon as we were out of the meeting with Blaylock and the captain, I pulled Ox aside.

  “I was thinking about what Blaylock said in the meeting, that the only people still alive that knew about the treasure are the four of us and Dr. Grimm. What if that isn’t true?”

  “So who else could possibly know? The ledger that talks about the treasure has been locked up in the evidence room since Bernard Maloof’s death.”

  Then it dawned on him. “Whoa, surely you’re not thinking that another cop ---?”

  “Who else would have access to the evidence room? I’d hate to think that was the case, but I think it would be worth our time to see if anyone checked out the box that contained the ledger.”

  A few minutes later, we were in the evidence room examining the log book.

  “There!” I said. “Case 4666, Bernard Maloof, and somebody did check it out --- Phil Rollins. Who the hell is Phil Rollins and why was he digging through the evidence box?”

  “Phil Rollins --- I don’t know him, but I know of him. He works in Vice. He’s been around about ten years. I’ve never heard anything bad about him.”

  “Vice? Why would Vice be sniffing around our murder case?”

  “I have an idea. Why don’t we ask him?”

  I never liked going to the Vice Squad. The place was always crawling with the dregs of Kansas City’s underworld, arrogant pimps and scrawny crack whores coming down from their drug-induced highs.

  We asked the detective at the first desk if Phil Rollins was around. Without even looking up to acknowledge us, he pointed to a guy toward the back of the room.

  “Detective Rollins,” Ox said, as we approached. “We’re Officers Wilson and Williams. Do you have a minute for us?”

  He looked up from some paperwork. “Sure, what can I do for you?”

  “We’d like to talk to you about a case we’re involved in.”

  At that moment, another detective arrived. “What’s up, Phil?”

  “Officers Williams and Wilson,” Rollins replied. “They just dropped by to discuss one of their cases. Guys, this is my partner, Gary Fricke. So about that case?”

  “Sure,” Ox said. “Undoubtedly you’ve heard about the artifact that was stolen from the King Tut exhibit and the murder of the young man accused of taking it, Bernard Maloof.”

  “How could you miss it? It’s been in the paper almost every day. I heard that the murder weapon was a cobra. That’s a new one.”

  “Well,” Ox continued, “we were the officers that discovered the body, so we’ve been pretty wrapped up in the case since the beginning. We had hit a brick wall on the thing until just
yesterday. We got a new lead in the case and went to the evidence room to check on some details. That’s when we saw that you had checked out our evidence box. We thought it might be a good idea to visit with you and see if you might have some insight on this crazy thing.”

  Ox and I had discussed how to approach Rollins and decided that a soft approach would be the best course of action.

  “Oh, that,” Rollins said, matter-of-factly. “Yeah, I checked out the box. We thought we might have a lead for you, but it didn’t pan out.”

  “We’d love to hear about it,” I said. “Maybe you were onto something that we could follow up on.”

  “I doubt it, but it went down like this. We were doing an undercover sting at a hotel bar. I was approached by a hooker and after we’d done our little dance, I was ready to throw the cuffs on her. That’s when she said she had some information about a murder and wanted to know if she could walk in return for the information. I figured what-the-hell, I’d rather have a good lead on a murder than a solicitation rap any day, so I took her number and said I’d check out her story.”

  “And it was the Bernard Maloof murder?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I pulled the box. I wanted to see if there was anything there that would tie into the hooker’s story. Frankly, I was surprised. The only things in the box were the kid’s personal effects. I tried to call the gal and tell her that she was full of shit, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with her. Every time I call, it goes to voice mail.”

  “I don’t suppose that the hooker’s name was Rhonda Reams?”

  “Yeah, that’s her. How’d you know?”

  “Because she was the alibi for our prime suspect and now she’s dead.”

  “Jesus! So that’s why she hasn’t answered my calls. Maybe she really did have something for me and someone shut her up.”

  “Could be,” I said. “Oh, one more question. When you were looking through the evidence box, did you see an old ledger?”

  “Sure did. It looked like it was written by a relative of the dead guy. I read a few pages. It was a bunch of technical stuff about how artifacts were restored. Boring as hell.”

  “So you didn’t read it all the way through?”

  “Hell no. I had better stuff to do. I had already wasted enough time on what I figured was a bogus lead.”

  I looked at Ox. “Anything else?”

  “No,” Ox replied. “I think that about wraps it up. Thanks for your time, Phil.”

  “No problem. Good luck with your case.”

  We didn’t speak until we were in our cruiser heading down Main Street.

  “So what do you think?” I asked.

  “I think he had all the right answers. I guess it could have gone down that way.”

  “Or, it could have gone down like this,” I replied. “I can buy the story about meeting Rhonda at the bar, but it’s possible that he read the ledger all the way through and found out about the treasure. So he calls Rhonda and they go to Figg’s place to see if he has the Anubis. Figg won’t talk, so Rollins shoots Reams to show Figg that he means business. Figg gives up the Anubis and Rollins plants him in the sand pile.”

  “Jesus, Walt. Rollins is a cop for crissakes! Do you realize what you’re saying? Plus, Rollins couldn’t have pulled it off by himself, so that means that his partner is dirty too.”

  “So what do you think we should do? Shall we take it to Blaylock?”

  “I don’t know. Accusing two veteran cops of murder is pretty heavy stuff. If we’re wrong, we can kiss our careers goodbye. I think we should dig a little deeper before we start making accusations.”

  “You’re probably right, but where do we start?”

  “I figured someone would come sniffing around,” Rollins said. “How’d it come off to you? Do you think they bought it?”

  “I think you did a hell of a job,” Gary replied. “Everything you said made perfect sense. There’s no way anyone can refute any part of your story.”

  “I’m still worried. There’s still one loose end --- who killed Lester Figg. It had to be someone that knew about the treasure in the Anubis, and right now, we’re assuming that the only people who knew were the cops directly related to the case, but if anyone questions our story about not reading the ledger, that puts the spotlight back on us. Right now, that damned evidence box is the only thing that ties us into any of this.”

  Gary thought for a minute. “We made Figg the patsy for killing Reams, so what we need now is another patsy to take the fall for Figg’s murder. If we can figure a way to do that, nobody will give a damn about that evidence box.”

  Rollins snapped his fingers. “I know just how we can do it!”

  “Come on, Walt,” Kevin said as we sat down for dinner. “Don’t hold out on me. You know I won’t talk. I mean, this case is just nutso. One guy gets killed by a cobra, another is poisoned with wolf’s bane and now you’ve got a body buried in a sand pile with a scorpion hanging out of his mouth. You just can’t make up stuff like that.”

  Kevin had been hounding me about the case since his aborted meeting with Lester Figg, but I had been putting him off. Now, with the possibility of two dirty cops in the picture, I wondered if it might not be helpful to get his perspective from his many years as a private investigator.

  I hesitated. “Okay, but what I’m about to tell you cannot leave this room.”

  He crossed his heart.

  “There’s something only a few of us know about this case --- the Anubis that was stolen was filled with gold and jewels.”

  Kevin’s mouth dropped open. “But the Anubis has never been found. How do you know that?”

  I told him about the ledger we had found in Maloof’s apartment.

  “So that’s why the kid stole the statue. He knew about the treasure.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think that his accomplice knew and I don’t think Figg knew. I think he just killed them to perpetuate the curse thing to sell more books.”

  “So who killed Figg and how does the hooker fit into all of this?”

  I was about to tell him about Rollins and his partner when there was a knock on the door.

  “Hang on,” I said.

  I opened the door to find a grim-faced Detective Blaylock and two other officers from homicide.

  “Detective, what brings you here? Is there a break in the case?”

  “Walt, I’m sorry,” he said stepping inside.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Walter Williams, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Lester Figg. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you.”

  “But I don’t understand!”

  “Please turn around, Walt. Let’s don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

  He had just cuffed my hands when Maggie came into the room. “Walt, dinner’s getting ---. Oh my God! What’s happening?”

  She rushed toward me, but the two detectives held her back.

  “I have no idea. Call Suzanne Romero. She’s on my speed dial. Tell her what’s happened. She’ll know what to do.”

  Blaylock led me into the hall, but just before the door closed, I saw my wife fall to her knees in tears.

  CHAPTER 14

  I had been on the cop’s side of the booking desk a hundred times, but this was my first time on the perp’s side. There’s a world of difference.

  I was well acquainted with all the booking guys and I’ll have to say that they were courteous, even respectful, as they took my prints and snapped my mug shots. There was little conversation. Everyone felt awkward. It’s not every day that a fellow cop is brought in accused of murder.

  The most embarrassing moment was when I had to give up my civvies for the orange jump suit that is standard attire in lock up. A part of that routine procedure is a cavity search. I tried to assure the red-faced officer that there was no contraband hidden in my kiester, but was told that rules are rules. When you’re in lock up, your dignity is checked at
the door.

  When my processing was complete, I was led to an interrogation room and was relieved to see Suzanne Romero seated at the table.

  “Suzanne, thank you for coming. Do you have any idea why I’m here? What’s with this murder charge?”

  “Walt, I’m so sorry. Yes, you’ve been arrested for the murder of Lester Figg.”

  “But that’s just crazy! What could they possibly have that would make them think that I had anything to do with that?”

  “I only had a minute to talk to Detective Blaylock, but here’s what I know so far. The Anubis, that artifact that was stolen from the King Tut exhibit, --- well --- it was found in the basement of your Three Trails Hotel.”

  “But --- how?”

  “The way I hear it, one of your tenants, a Mr. Feeney, went down into the basement to take a leak into the floor drain. He said the four bathrooms were all occupied and he couldn’t wait. Apparently, he does that quite often.”

  Knowing Feeney, that part of the story made sense.

  “Anyway, the basement was dark. He had a flashlight and the beam hit this huge creature with blazing eyes. It scared the bejesus out of him. He ran screaming out into the street just as a cop was driving by. The officer checked out his story and found the Anubis.”

  “But anybody could have put the thing down there,” I protested. “The basement door is never locked. I haven’t set foot in the place for years. There are spiders down there and I hate spiders.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s not all they found. There was sand, and it was an exact match for the sand where Figg’s body was found.”

  “Again, anybody could have put the sand there. Suzanne, I’m being set up.”

  “Not just you,” she replied.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’ve arrested Ox, too.”

  “But why? Ox doesn’t have anything to do with the hotel.”

  “Two reasons. First, apparently that statue is huge. There’s no way that you could have gotten it into the basement by yourself. You would have needed some help.”