Lawson picked up the Harrison file and scanned the profile of the witness. Leah Brooks, age 29, managing director of Fantasy Weddings, her office was located in the same building as the victim. When he contacted her office, her assistant told him she was on vacation and would return in a couple of days. Next, he perused the contents of the profile he’d been putting together of the perpetrators.
“What’re you thinking, partner?”
The question came from the desk next to his. Glancing up, he noticed Nolan’s furrowed brows and questioning eyes.
“How do these people hire these jackasses?” Lawson grated.
Nolan snickered. “Who knows? They must have some shady friends who hire these guys.” He paused while he stared at a file before him. “Something about the Harrison case doesn’t seem right. Do you think one of his ‘girlfriends’ hired them?”
“I don’t know. Have you checked into his dealings? Anything shady?” Lawson inquired.
“The guy’s a straight arrow. I think one of his women did it. Let’s see, he’s dating at least three now and left a string of broken hearts behind.”
Lawson was stuck. His guts told him there was more to it than that, but he listened to Nolan anyway. “What have you got?”
“Here.” Nolan pushed a photo of a redhead across to him. Her stunning features resulted in a low whistle from Lawson.
Nolan continued, “He hurt that one pretty bad a few years back. They were practically engaged, until he dumped her.”
“Have you talked to her?” Lawson queried.
“She says she hasn’t seen him in a couple of years, but she hates him,” Nolan informed him.
“Hate is not a strong motive.”
“It’s a strong enough motivator, though,” Nolan insisted.
Lawson pushed his chair back, scraping the concrete floor. “We got nothing, admit it Nolan.”
Nolan’s shoulders sagged. “We got nothing.”
It was late, past midnight and he needed sleep. Lawson picked up the three files he’d been working on and headed out the door. He barely made it to his car when it occurred to him to check the bank accounts of the people associated with Quinn – past and present. One such person Lawson discovered was Frank Crane. If someone paid to have Harrison attacked, there must be a trail of money somewhere. He went back inside where Nolan was grabbing his jacket to leave.
“What’s the matter?”
“I need a copy of that list of acquaintances for the Harrison guy,” he replied.
“You got something?” Nolan queried.
“Just a hunch, let me check it first then get back to you,” he said.
This was how Lawson worked. He’d feel something in his gut and he’d check if before putting it on the table. The problem was that he needed the chief to approve this part of the investigation since he’d basically be digging into personal accounts. Without a proper suspect, he could get into trouble. It was going to take some convincing for the chief to give him the go-ahead.
Nolan’s disapproval was evident. Nevertheless, he pulled the list from a drawer and handed it over. He knew Nolan felt he was keeping him in the dark, but his partner knew that was his MO.
“This is it,” Nolan said.
“I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I check it out. Might be nothing.”
His partner nodded. “Yeah. Just do what you have to catch these guys.”
“Good, see ya in the morning.” Lawson went back out the door.
As he drove home, he knew he needed to get some information from off the streets. There were a few people he could contact, but one in particular came to mind. People called them snitches and they were often targeted by criminal elements. Lawson saw them as good citizens who he sometimes worked hard to protect.
Take for instance, Gevin was a youth who had followed the wrong crowd and ended up doing drugs. Lawson helped him get his life back on track and he occasionally dropped in to check on the young man to make sure he wasn’t sniffing.
The following morning Lawson sought out Gevin. This youth was good with finding out things. Lawson met him behind an abandoned warehouse around eight. The last time the detective spoke with the informant, his locks were but bumps on his head. Now, his dreadlocks fell off his shoulders.
Lawson scrutinized the young man, trying figure if he was using again. His dark complexion had lost the ruddiness from before and now he looked healthy. Gevin had even gained some weight.
Gevin didn’t seem too happy to see him, however his eyes bulged when Lawson produced a twenty dollar bill.
“Don’t use it on drugs, got it?”
“Man, why’d you have to gone and bring up the past. I clean … been clean for fifteen months, three days and seven hours.”
“Alright,” Lawson grinned. “Just checking. Don’t go spending it on women and alcohol.”
“My girl left me man, and I don’t drink no booze man,” Gevin replied, pocketing the money. “I is gonna buy food fer me and me gran.”
“Now tell me, what you heard about the three mask attackers,” Lawson said, getting straight to the point.
Gevin looked around nervously, then he stepped closer to Lawson. “They call themselves the Three Musketeers. Word on the street is,” he looked around once more, as he spoke in a low tone. “There’s a ratchet among them.”
“Ratchet?” Lawson was befuddled. He thought he knew all the slang of the streets.
“Yes, you know.” Gevin made a rounded motion with his hands near his chest. Lawson looked on with amusement as the snitch made a curvy figure in the air with both hands.
“A woman?” Lawson asked.
“Yes. They’s be like hired people man.” Gevin stuck his hand in his pocket and looked down on the ground.
“What else?” Lawson felt that Gevin was holding out.
“That guy who got stabbed in the garage, he wasn’t’ supposed to live. Now, the woman in the apartment, that was a warning, but the guy’s supposed to be dead meat,” Gevin said. As he spoke, he slashed his finger across his throat and stuck his tongue out for maximum effect.
Lawson listened as the youth continued. “I hear a man hired them, but I can’t give you names, man. You know that’s not how the streets roll.”
“Alright, I know you can’t give me names, but you got to get me something else when I come back, and don’t get yourself in trouble,” Lawson warned. “Now you go first, I gotta take a leak.”
Gevin snuck away, peering over his shoulder as he left. Lawson watched as he disappeared around the corner of the abandoned building and down a side alley. Now, he had something more to work with. A man hired the thugs. He hoped that Gevin could get something more concrete next time.
He took a piss at the corner of the building then moved to his car down the block. He had to park a way off not to arouse suspicion. The building was an old warehouse that nobody but thugs occupied. The police was always raiding it, but this time he came alone. He had to be careful not to get his informant into trouble. These thugs were serious about their privacy and any indication that someone ratted on them would bring dire consequences.
Lawson thought about all the evidence he had so far. The medical report stated that the side wound on Harrison was not done with any great force. When asked, Dr. Rattray agreed it could be from a female who was less aggressive than her male accomplices.
Nolan was waiting for him when he got to the department. He told his partner what he gathered from his informant so that they could continue their investigation.
“I think we should get help from one of the undercover guys,” Lawson suggested.
Nolan shook his head vigorously. “You know those guys only take on certain cases,” he said.
Lawson replied, “One of them owes me a favor, he’ll do it.”
“Don’t you need a target?” Nolan asked.
“I know just the person,” he supplied. “By the way, is the chief in?”
Nolan nodded. “Yep.”