“I do understand, but I’ve got to think about it,” the Black woman said. She looked up at the two large men and then back at Lucas. “Whoarethese jerks?”
“Ooo, I like them spicy,” the slightly smaller of the two large men said.
“I ought to kick your balls up around your collar,” the actor said.
The blonde said, “Do it, Jackie.” And to the slightly smaller man, “She’s in karate.”
The larger of the two large men: “So, uh, could we get some phone numbers?”
Lucas, rubbing his forehead with his fingers: “Jesus God. I’m just trying to get through life.”
—
The two menwent to the counter to order coffee and scones, and the two actors left, agreeing that they would review the new scripts and call with any notes that they thought would improve them. They’d think about the “Black accent.”
When the men came back, Lucas, who was not small, moved over so Jenkins could sit next to him, because Jenkins and Shrake would not both fit in the same side of a restaurant booth.
Jenkins said to Lucas, “This is my new partner up at the BCA.Shrake. He’s kind of an asshole, but he’s willing to carry my lunch bucket.”
“That’s not the entire story,” Shrake said, getting comfortable with his scone. He was not a tidy eater. “I hang out because I can supplement my income by playing golf with him.”
Lucas said, “I’ve already heard about Shrake. There are rumors that you guys are working the Grandfelt murder and you’re fucking it up.”
“Who is this guy?” Shrake asked Jenkins.
“Used to be a big-deal homicide investigator in Minneapolis. Then this cute little hooker who was feeding him tips got caught by her pimp. He carved her up with a church key. Lucas sort of went off on the poor guy. The politicians got pissed and he was kicked out of the department. They claimed he used excessive force,” Jenkins said. To Lucas: “Whatever happened to the chick?”
“Still looks like a jack-o’-lantern, a week after Halloween,” Lucas said.
“Nasty. How about the pimp? He walking again?”
“I don’t know. I don’t check on him anymore,” Lucas said. “I was told by a reliable source that he no longer needs diapers.”
Shrake lifted a hand to be slapped, and said, “Testify!”
Lucas slapped. “So. You guys fuckin’ it up?”
“Not us. We’re going around talking to the least-likely suspects while the big guns get the real possibilities,” Shrake said. “Not that there’s much difference between the two groups.”
“I heard the victim was a mess,” Lucas said.
“Bad as it gets,” Jenkins said. “The only thing I’ve seen that compares was back when I was on the street. A couple of kids drove an old MGB into a bridge abutment at eighty miles an hour. You couldn’ttell which head went with which body. Grandfelt was like that…she was ripped to pieces.”
“Tell me everything,” Lucas said, realizing that he was more interested than he should be, as he was now a business executive and not a cop.
Jenkins told him the story in detail, and when he was done, Lucas asked, “You gonna catch whoever did it?”
Jenkins and Shrake glanced at each other, then they both shook their heads. “I don’t think so. Whoever did this knew what they were doing,” Shrake said. “He left us nothing to work with. We’ve taken a bunch of blood samples and they all go back to Grandfelt. No extraneous hair, no skin, no DNA. Grandfelt was playing games with a bunch of low-lifes over on the Hennepin strip, and had been for a while, so that’s a problem, because it multiplies the possibilities.”
“Don’t think it was a low-life—or it might have been, but that’s not the critical factor,” Jenkins said. “The critical thing is, whoever did it is a psycho. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d done some other killings. This was not an ordinary thing.”
“So you got nothing? Not even a hint of a motive?” Lucas asked.
Shrake sighed, and said, “You know, it could be sex, but I don’t think so. Not money, either, because Grandfelt didn’t have much. Jealousy? That’s a possibility. But it might not be any of those. We found her car on the street near a meat rack, so it might be somebody who preys on blondes. Picked her up, took her somewhere quiet, fucked her and murdered her. No motive other than what the voices in his head were telling him to do. You know?”
Lucas nodded: “That makes it tough.”
“Maybe impossible,” Jenkins said. “I feel ‘impossible’ coming up like the sun in the morning, though the hotshots won’t admit it.They’re saying they’ll have the guy in a week. They’re full of shit. I’d be surprised if they get him at all.”
