Everyone started opening pizza boxes and you would have thought the receptionist had thrown food to a pack of starving lions as my brothers attacked the grub like prey. Nash returned and passed around paper plates, forks, and serviettes but I thinkit was a wee bit of a moot point by then. It was disappearing down their gullets too fast to even touch the plates.
We got quiet for a few minutes as everyone tucked in. I suspected Wes was being polite, not wanting to ask for a second piece of pizza when he’d cleaned his plate. So I snagged a couple more of the meat lovers and filled his plate a second time. He had to be starving if he’d spent the day unpacking and stacking boxes before running from half-crazed lunatics who wanted to kill him.
“Thanks, Patsy,” he said, looking and sounding embarrassed as he picked up a piece and bit into it.
A few minutes later, Candy came back in and waved a piece of paper at Wes. “Standard government crap. Nothing that is said in here is to be repeated outside this room. Sign here and initial each page, please.”
When that was done, he attacked his plate someone had saved for him and glanced over at Cassidy. “Is there something you can tell us about your case?”
“Some,” Cassidy said, sitting back in his chair as he wiped his mouth with a serviette. “First of all, the murder that this man is suspected of committing, is not our case,” he said, eyeballing the picture taped to the whiteboard. “That case has been assigned to a detective from a different division, but Mike and I are convinced that it ties in with one of our cases.”
“What can ya tell us, Cass?” I asked, eager to learn anything about the gobshites who’d nearly killed Wes. The two men exchanged a glance, and I didn’t miss the subtle nod Mike gave his partner.
“About two weeks ago, we were called down to the diamond mart in downtown L.A. to investigate a burglary which had occurred in one of the many jewelry stores there,” Cassidy said.
“That’s the wholesale district, right?” Napoleon asked. He was fingering the gold box chain around his neck as he often did. He’d worn a small, gold cross on the chain as long as I’d known him, even in the Middle East, right alongside his dog tags.
“Yes, at Sixth and Hill,” Mike replied. “The owner called us out to the store on a Saturday which Cassidy and I both found odd because the man is a Hasidic Jew.”
“Orthodox Jews—and Hasidic—are orthodox. They don’t work on Saturday, their Sabbath,” Cassidy clarified.
“He stated that some diamonds had disappeared from the store safe and that only he and his father-in-law had the combination,” Mike said.
“It sounds like he was pointin’ the finger at his father-in-law,” Rex drawled.
“That’s what it sounds like to us too,” Cassidy said. “As it turns out, a murder occurred right around the time those jewels disappeared.”
I sat up straight. “Ya said yer burglary case was tied in with a murder case in another division,” I said. “Was the store owner killed?”
Mike and Cassidy both nodded. “Suffice it to say, there were two partners in the business, but to answer your question, yes, one of the partners was the victim of a homicide. He was stabbed multiple times and his body was left in an alley in Hollywood, not far from Blessed Sacrament, Father Gilmartin’s church,” Mike supplied.
“Whoa,” I said, looking over at Wes who stared back with wide eyes. We both knew they had to be talking about the names they’d questioned Wes about the other night. I glanced back at Cassidy. “Do ya think Marigold Bishop witnessed the murder?”
“It’s quite possible,” Mike replied.
“So that guy killed someone and then sent a couple of guys to assault the priest to send a message to wee Marigold Bishop?” I asked.
Both detectives nodded. “We think it’s very possible that she witnessed the murder and told her mother, possibly other people which is why those two thugs were sent to threaten the girl’s mother through Father Gilmartin,” Cassidy said.
“Okay, I know some of this, but the rest of my team is somewhat lost,” Candy said. “Would you fill everyone in on what happened with the little girl, the threat made to the priest, and whatever else transpired?”
“I’ll tell it,” I said, sitting forward.
“Go ahead, Patsy,” Cassidy replied.
I started at the beginning, telling them everything that had gone on from the night Wes and I had witnessed the assault on Father Gilmartin, to the way Wes’ car had been broken into and about his missing wallet and driver’s license. “Wes is staying with me to recover from the gunshot since I don’t feel it’s safe for him to go back to his car.”
When I was finished, Cassidy and Mike were frowning at me.
“You should have told us about Mr. Chaudry’s missing driver’s license and his car, Patsy,” Mike said. “The thugs who chased him today might be the same people who broke into his car and took his license. He might have been targeted the whole time.”
I felt horrible. “I should have but we—” I looked at Wes who was watching me sheepishly. He turned back to the detectives.
“I asked Patsy not to tell the police about anyone tampering with my car. I didn’t want the police involved because I wasafraid of losing the job I finally landed.” I sighed. “I’m a mathematician as I told you before, Detective Ryan. I just got a job at Caltech and they haven’t finished running a background check on me yet. I was afraid if I reported someone breaking into my car, the police might recognize me as the same man who was shot in Rami and Raj’s store the night Patsy and I met.”
Wes reached up and ran a hand over his sparse hair, flattening it out, and my heart broke for him as he continued talking.
“I ran away from the convenience store while Patsy had his back turned the night of the armed robbery, because I knew if he called an ambulance for the gunshot wound, the paramedics would call the police who’d have to file a report. I was afraid that I’d lose the job and because I was desperate, I involved Patsy in the lie when he came looking for me the morning after the robbery. When we went back to my car to gather some of my belongings, Patsy covered for me. I begged him not to tell the police about my car or the missing license which was in my wallet in the glove compartment. It was my fault the break-in wasn’t reported, not Patsy’s.”
