sup with the devil

Chapter 23

Back in the city, the Captain listened silently as Bettmeir and Asper tag-teamed their report and the theory they'd developed about the deaths of Roger Cullen, Elora Gates and the latest one of Cresta Ettinger, alias Leana Winslow. Identification was made from an inscription on the inside of a bracelet and prints from the club were used to confirm.

The motel owner had nearly ruined the crime scene when he let them into the room, causing the two detectives to do some fancy tap dancing to escape his physical reaction. The gun came back from ballistics registered to Rita Cornell, a major surprise considering the many aliases she'd used recently.

"They all cock up sometime," the Captain offered.

Bettmeir organized his notes and with a finger in the air, began a step-by-step description of the events as they had connected them.

"Roger Cullen joined Bootheel for whatever reason. He recruited Rita Cornell as a partner in a plan to blackmail his fellow members. She used a phone camera to record sessions inside the club and accidentally caught Milton Greenbaum concluding what we believe to be a drug transaction. For some reason, probably thieves falling out, Rita Cornell killed Roger Cullen and took over the scheme on her own. When she made her first move she chose Cresta Ettinger, underestimating the woman's reaction. She went to Greenbaum who sent Jared Weiss to get the videos."

"And?" The Captain shoved his glasses up on his nose and drilled Bettmeir with his stare.

"We don't think he found her."

"I'm waiting."

"Well, we think she changed her name and address and then contacted Elora Gates."

"Why?"

"We believe she thought that Elora would buckle under because she wouldn't want to lose her status with Hargrave; she'd pay to protect him."

The Captain screwed up his face in disagreement. "Weak. Very weak."

Bettmeir hurried on. "When that fell through, they fought and Rita tossed her out of the hotel. It was right after Hargrave had his heart attack."

"The one you two provoked."

"No, no, sir. We believe that Elora told him and that caused the heart attack when he thought we were aware of his actions too." Bettmeir glanced at his partner and wet his lips.

"So now we have two killings over a blackmail scheme and nobody's been blackmailed." The Captain's voice was descending into the deep, throaty tone they both knew to be shit-kicking time.

"We uh- we believe that Rita tried again with the Ettinger woman and they met at which time Jared Weiss reappeared. The two women hid in that mall washroom and when he came after them they ganged up on him and then fled together."

"The blackmailer and the current victim."

"Uhh... yeah. We believe—"

"Will you stop with the 'we believe' shit and spit it out!"

"—we uuh- they came to some kind of deal and Ettinger, for some reason, changed her looks and got false papers. They were holed up in the motel and had a falling out and Rita killed her then disappeared."

"Where did she get the papers?"

"The three-five is following that up."

"You tracked them to this motel how exactly?"

Jerry took over, explaining about the address they found in the hotel room and the bartender's information and how, with some clever detecting, tracked them to the motel—unfortunately too late.

"I don't buy this Rita dame killing the Gates woman."

"Maybe it was Jared." Bettmeir said suddenly. "If Elora Gates did know about the blackmail, maybe Weiss thought she might even have the videos or where they might be found."

"But he killed her, detective. Then he went after the other women. If he got the stuff what would be the point?"

"Loose ends?" Jerry offered.

"You mean like you two?" The Captain massaged his jaw and shuffled the reports on his desk. "Find this Travis dame and put this thing to bed. I'll co-ordinate with the three-five about the possibility of looking at Weiss for the Gates killing. Cullen and Wilson or Winslow or Ettinger, whatever the hell her name was, will stay on the Travis plate for now."

"I don't see much luck in finding her, boss. She could be outta the country by now."

"Asper, how did you ever get to be a detective?"

"I uh- I qualified after writing the exam."

The Captain scribbled a note to himself to speak to the hiring committee. "Just take what little you have between those ears and use it to figure out a way—AM I CLEAR?"

"We're on it, sir." Bettmeir ushered Jerry out of the office and straight through the squad room.

**********

He watched as the woman sneaked from the motel room and hid around the corner before making her way across the back lot and over to the service road. He slipped the car in gear and roared down the slope, timing his arrival to be the first car she saw as she began to hitchhike.

***********

Rose Tzechuck was waving a piece of paper at the two as they fled the Captain's office. Jerry braked to a stop, baring his teeth in a leering grin.

"That your dance card, darlin'?"

"You wish. It's from Detective Ortega at the three-five, he wants you to call ASAP."

"Got a number, Rose?" Bettmeir asked, flipping open his book.

"She's got two that I can see." Jerry's leer grew to horrid dimensions.

"You are an absolute pig, Ambrose." Rose snarled.

"Absolutely."

Bettmeir hauled him away with an apologetic grimace for Rose and was surprised to see her smiling with one hand pushing her hair into place.

"She loves me." Jerry said as they found an empty desk and a telephone.

"But will she ever regain her sight?"

"Screw you."

"Second choice, am I?" Bettmeir held up a hand as the phone was answered and he listened intently finishing with what almost amounted to a kiss and slapped Jerry on the back. "We are in luck, big guy. We are in so much luck." He turned and darted out of the room and down to the parking garage.