CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

St. Mary’s Catholic Church was in the same neighborhood as the alley where Lonny Corbett had been killed. The church was in disrepair. Inside, a small sign on an open door that was falling off its hinges read Office. When they entered, a woman with long dark hair that curled over her ears looked up from behind a desk. She wore long sleeves, tight sleeves that hugged her wrists. Sam held up his ID.

Her eyes widened at Sam and Paige. “I’m clean. I don’t have any product on me.”

Sam picked up a paper from a stack on the counter. “Glad to hear it, but we’re not here about you.”

Paige leaned over Sam’s arm and saw the paper was a bulletin of church happenings. She scanned it with Sam. “Who runs the addictions anonymous meeting?”

“That’s Doucette.”

Paige asked, “Where can we find him?”

“I don’t know. He’s not here. He doesn’t come in until the meeting.”

Sam glanced up from the paper. “Do you know where Doucette lives?”

She moved her head. Her long bangs spilled into her eyes. “No.”

“Doucette,” Sam said. “That a first name or a last?”

The woman lifted her bony shoulders slightly. “Don’t know.”

Sam put the bulletin into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “Who is the resident priest?”

“Father Coleman.”

“Where can we find him?”

“He’s in back, in the church.”

Sam nodded to the woman. “Thank you.”

Paige walked with Sam into the church. Small ribbons of smoke rose from an assortment of candles on a table at the front of the church. The air carried the scents of wax burning and lemon furniture polish. A short man stood arranging items on the altar. He wore a black cassock and collar.

Sam held up his ID. “We’re Agents McKade and Carson.”

“Father Timothy Coleman.” The priest stepped down from the altar and met them in the aisle. He extended his hand to Paige and then to Sam. “What can I do for you?”

Sam shook the priest’s hand. “We’d like some information on the addictions anonymous meetings that you run.”

“Not me. I only provide the venue. The meetings are organized by a parishioner, Aldon Doucette.”

“We’d like to speak with Mr. Doucette,” Sam said.

“Actually, it’s Father Doucette though he no longer goes by that.”

“Oh, why not?”

“I don’t feel it’s my place to say. You’d have to ask him.”

“I’ll do that. Where can we find Mr. Doucette?”

“I don’t know where he lives. He shows up here every Saturday evening at eight for the meeting and to help out with serving meals we provide after the meetings, and then he leaves. I don’t know where he goes.”

“Do you know a man who goes by the name of Skinny Will?” Sam said.

“No.”

“What about Lonny Corbett?”

“The man who was killed yesterday? I saw it on the news.” Father Coleman shook his head sadly. “I didn’t know him. I never saw him at mass.”

“We’re also searching for a man missing his right hand,” Paige said.

The priest spread his hands. “I don’t know him. I’m sorry I haven’t been of any help.”

Sam thanked the priest and they exited the church. Outside, Sam turned to Paige. “We’ll come back for tonight’s meeting.”

 

* * *

 

A small group of men and women, including the woman from the church’s office, occupied the old ladder back chairs set up in rows in the church basement when Sam and Paige returned. Heads turned as they, newcomers and dressed for work, claimed seats in the back row.

They sat through the meeting. After, while the attendees were helping themselves to coffee and lined up to receive the meal that was on offer, they approached the meeting leader, Aldon Doucette, who had taken his coffee back to the lopsided lectern.

“Mr. Doucette.” Sam showed his ID. “I’m Agent McKade and this is Agent Carson. We’d like a word with you.”

Doucette, a stoop shouldered man with a long face paused in the act of stirring sugar into his coffee. “I saw you both walk in.” He took the plastic spoon from the cup and pointed it at Paige. “I remember seeing you in the media a while back.”

Paige gave no response. Sam also ignored the reference to Paige and the Thames investigation. “Do you know a man who goes by the name of Skinny Will?”

Doucette lowered the spoon and began again to stir his coffee, the strokes slow and purposeful. “I know Will. What’s this about? I don’t want to cause Will any trouble. He’s working on getting himself clean.”

“We want to speak with him,” Sam said. “That’s all.”

“This have something to do with Lonny’s murder?”

Sam said, “Why would you ask that?”

“Will and Lonny were friends when they were both using.”

“They were no longer friends?”

“They drifted apart.”

“Why was that?” Sam asked.

“When someone is trying to get clean, they have to sever all ties with people who are still part of that world.”

Sam’s gaze went to the track marks that dug deep in Doucette’s skinny arms, left bare by a short sleeved shirt. Deliberately left bare, Sam thought, since the temperature in the basement of the old drafty church was cold. Sam raised his gaze and locked eyes with Doucette. “Did you know Lonny Corbett when you were using?”

“No. I got into meth when I was in the priesthood. I didn’t meet Lonny or Will until I gave up my collar to get clean, and started the meetings here.”

“What parish were you with?” Doucette named a community Sam was familiar with, a nicer district than this one. “And now?”

“I’m not attached to any parish. I won’t accept a parishioner’s trust until I can trust myself again, until the craving for meth is no longer a daily struggle.”

Sam brought the conversation back. “What is Will’s last name?”

“Ledger.”

“He no longer attends your meetings?”

“Not always. He works at a convenience store and his Saturday shifts sometimes run later than our meetings.”

“Where does he live?”

“He mentioned that he’d rented a room not far from here on Finch Street. It’s in a house with a young couple who bought it and took in a tenant to help pay the mortgage. I don’t know the house number but he did say the people he rents from are named Stephenson.”

Paige asked, “What does Will look like?”

“Tall, very tall and too thin for his size,” Doucette said.

On its own, very tall meant that Skinny Will was not the man Paige had seen in the woods, Sam thought. More, Doucette hadn’t said that Will was missing a right hand.

“How well did you know Lonny?” Paige asked.

“Not well. He came in here to get a meal occasionally. Not often. He didn’t care for the talks we had about getting clean that preceded the meal.” Doucette passed a hand back through his hair. “I wish we could have helped him and now it’s too late.”

Paige said, “Who would Lonny have been getting his supply from?”

“I don’t know. I’m not part of that life anymore.”

“Anyone dealing at your meetings?” Sam asked bluntly.

Doucette stiffened. “No.”

“So sure, Mr. Doucette?” Sam pressed.

Doucette stretched out the arm that held his coffee. “Look around you, Agents, we have six people here tonight and that’s our usual attendance. Not a lot of business for a dealer to bother coming here.”

Business was business to a dealer, but Sam let the comment pass. He took out a business card and held it out to Doucette. “If you recall anything about Lonny Corbett, we’d appreciate if you’d give us a call.”

Doucette took the card. “We can use all the help we can get keeping the door open on this place. There’s a collection box on your way out. If you feel inclined to donate a little something, we’d be grateful.”

As far as Sam could tell, Doucette was doing good work with these meetings. Sam could get behind that and apparently so could Paige. They each dropped a couple of bills in the donation box as they left.

 

* * *

 

It was after nine o’clock when they left the church. Finch Street was only a couple of blocks away. Sam searched a directory and got the house number for the Stephenson family.

Finch Street was in a better area than the church, with small clapboard fixer-uppers that looked like they were in various stages of repair. Sam drove slowly down the street while he and Paige read the house numbers.

“We’re coming up to it.” Paige leaned forward in the passenger seat as far as the seatbelt allowed. An instant later she pointed to a house. “That’s the one.”

Sam parked by the curb and they left the vehicle. With it being a Saturday night, people were enjoying the weekend and many of the houses were lit.

Sam knocked on the front door. The man who answered wore a robe, his legs bare from the knees down. He was of average height which didn’t fit the description Doucette had given of Skinny Will. “Mr. Stephenson?”

“Yes.”

Sam held up his ID and introduced himself and Paige. “We’d like to speak with Will. Is he at home?”

“What’s going on? Is Will in some kind of trouble?”

“We just want to speak with him,” Sam said. “Is he here?”

“He just got back from work.” Stephenson stepped back from the door. “Come in. He’s watching television with me and my wife. I’ll get him.”

Coats hung on a row of hooks on the wall. A stroller and infant carrier were on the floor beneath the line of coats. Stephenson’s voice speaking to someone about FBI agents now at the house carried to the hall. A few seconds later, a tall man joined them.

“I’m Will Ledger. I had a feeling I’d be hearing from someone like you.”

Will’s speech was impeded from his many missing teeth. Sam recognized the side effect of the meth. Teeth often began to fall out after as little as only one year of use. “Why is that, Mr. Ledger?”

Will’s eyes moved from Sam to Paige and back to Sam again. “I heard about Lonny. Look I got no idea what happened to Lonny. I didn’t have nothing to do with that. I ain’t seen him since I moved in here.” Ledger’s words tumbled out one on top of the other in his urgency to get them said.

Sam asked, “How long ago was that?”

“Six months. I been clean and I want to stay that way.”

“What can you tell us about Lonny Corbett?” Sam said.

“Like I said, I ain’t seen Lonny in a long time. I don’t know his habits no more.”

“Tell us what you do know.”

“I tried to get him to clean up, to go to the church meetings with me.”

“The meetings organized by Mr. Doucette?”

“Yeah. Lonny didn’t want no part of that. I tried to help him but he was bringing me back in. I knew if I stayed in that life, I’d be dead. I couldn’t be around Lonny.” Ledger began to pick at one of the scars on his arm. “Lonny and me had a fight about that. He said I was abandoning him but I had no choice. I’m out and I’m staying out. I don’t want no trouble. I have a good thing here with the Stephensons. They’re good people. I don’t want to mess that up.”

“We’re only here to talk with you, Mr. Ledger,” Sam said. “Where did you and Lonny get your supply?”

Ledger picked harder at the scar. “Our dealer went out of business. That was another thing that pushed me out of the drugs. I had no means to leave the county to get the meth.”

“But that didn’t stop Lonny. Where was he getting his supply?”

“Don’t know. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to know. I wanted out. It was like a sign from God when our dealer got busted. Lonny wasn’t a believer. He was into doing what he wanted.”

“Where did Lonny get money for meth?” Sam said.

“From his sister.”

Sam pressed him. “Where in addition to his sister?”

Ledger opened his mouth and pulled his lips inside and out, repeating the movement with enough force that if he’d had front teeth, he would have drawn blood. “Lonny stole stuff, did B&Es then fenced the stuff he stole to pay for the meth.”

“Where did he fence the stuff?” Sam asked.

Ledger’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Look, I don’t want no trouble…”

Paige said, “We’re not going to name you as the one who gave us this information. All we’re interested in is finding Lonny’s killer.”

Ledger’s eyes fixed on Paige. She held her gaze steady on his.

Ledger brought his fist to his mouth, his agitation obvious. “Jeffrey Adams was Lonny’s fence.”

“Where can we find him?” Paige’s tone was as steady as her gaze.

“He runs a legit pawn shop here in Haldonville but also fences stolen stuff.”

Paige acknowledged the information with a nod then added, “Where did Lonny hang out?”

“I don’t know. He never took me nowhere with him.”

“Who did he hang out with? Friends?” Sam said.

Ledger gave a small headshake. “Lonny didn’t have friends. He had ‘marks’, people he could steal from or get something from. When Lonny had money, from stuff he’d fenced or from his sister, he’d buy a little extra from his dealer and deal that to his marks. Small potatoes stuff but Lonny was into doing anything to make a fast buck. He tried to do that with me the last time he saw me, tried to get me back in. I’m on a slippery slope. I don’t need the temptation. We fought about that and that was the last time I seen him.”

“Who did Lonny sell to?” Paige asked.

“I don’t know. I never met Lonny’s marks. He kept his business to himself. He didn’t want me to horn in on what was his. As far as I knew he didn’t have steady customers. He ripped some off. Gave them less than pure product. Sold less than people paid for. Got beat up a couple of times. Word about him stiffing people got around and people wouldn’t buy from him after that. He needed to branch out and find people who hadn’t heard of him. Hard to do in a small place.”

Sam took that in. Corbett may have made a powerful enemy in his bid to expand his customer base. “Do you know a man missing a right hand?”

“No.”

Sam took out another business card and handed it to Ledger. “If you recall anything further, we’d like to hear from you.”

Ledger clutched the card, bending the edges with the force of his grip. “I told you everything I know. I don’t know nothing more to tell.”

They would run Ledger through the databases but for now Sam nodded. “We’ll show ourselves out.”

The night had cooled further while they’d been inside the Stephenson house but the clouds had moved on. The sky was studded with stars. After spending time in the Stephensons small, cluttered hall, Sam welcomed being back out in the open and the cold wind that blew over him. Paige, on the sidewalk beside him, raised her collar and drew her overcoat more tightly to her body. Sam placed his arm around her to warm her.

Paige reached up and clasped his hand where it cupped her shoulder. “Could be someone Corbett ripped off, or whose drug territory he’d poached on killed him.”

More questions. All they had were questions. “We’ll check out the fence, see if we can place Corbett with him before he was killed.” Sam’s jaw tensed. “But first, I want to talk with Victor Alessandro.”