The Crooked Street
- Автор: Фриман Брайан
- Серия: Frost Easton #3
- Год: 2019
- Язык: английский
- Год: Thomas & Mercer
- ISBN: 978-1-5039-0094-3
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Crooked Street». Краткое содержание книги:
To find the answer, Frost reaches into a nest of vipers — San Francisco’s shady elite — where the whispered name of Lombard is just one secret. Now, drawn into a cat-and-mouse game with an enemy who knows his every move, Frost finds there is no one he can trust. And somewhere down the crooked streets of the city, Frost’s cunning adversary is coiled and ready to strike again.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, sir.”
“I don’t like it when the criminals are better fighters than the people on my team.”
“This man was well trained, that’s for sure,” Frost said.
“Military?”
“Possibly.”
“Did you get any kind of description?” Hayden asked.
“No, the room was pitch-black,” Frost explained. “I never saw him.”
Hayden’s breath rumbled loudly, like an engine in need of tuning. “Well, this business with Coyle is unfortunate, but it’s also a distraction. If you’re a private dick, you better develop eyes in the back of your head. Trent will go over the man’s case files and see what he can find.”
“I’d like to help with that,” Frost said. “I knew Coyle. I want to put his killer away.”
Hayden shot him down with a wave of his big hand. “No, leave this to Trent. I want you focused on the Denny Clark homicide. I’m getting a lot of pressure to put that one to bed quickly.”
“Pressure?” Frost asked. “From who?”
“The chief. The mayor. The city council. Apparently, a lot of rich people set foot on Clark’s boat at one time or another, and they don’t like the attention. The longer this case sits open, the more questions are going to get asked. Khristeen Smith over at the Chronicle will be camping outside my door to do an exposé. Nobody wants that, so wrap it up fast, Easton.”
“I’m trying to do that, sir—” Frost began, but Hayden interrupted him impatiently.
“Cyril tells me you found cocaine hidden on Denny Clark’s boat.”
“That’s right.”
“So we’re looking at a drug-related murder? That’s what I said from the beginning. Talk to some of Trent’s friends in vice. They can probably tell you whose pool Clark was pissing in.”
“I’ll do that, sir.” Frost shot a glance at Gorham, who was studying his own fingernails and not looking up.
“Ask them to canvass the dealers working the marina,” Hayden went on. “Somebody knows something. Even if we can’t make an arrest, I want to have something I can tell people when they call. Get me more information by tomorrow. If you need extra support in the investigation, run it by Cyril. He’ll get you what you need.”
Hayden slapped a file folder shut on his desk. He was literally trying to close the book on Denny. Frost knew he’d been dismissed, but he waited out the silence until Hayden looked up again and picked at his multiple chins as if he were plucking a bass guitar.
“Is there something else, Easton?” the captain mumbled.
“I think there’s more going on in this case than just a drug hit,” Frost replied. “I’ve got three other people from Denny’s boat who are missing or dead.”
“Excuse me?” The captain twisted around and growled at Cyril. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
Cyril’s face was cool as he stared past Hayden at Frost. “Because I’m only hearing about it myself, sir.”
Hayden studied Frost with marble-black eyes. “Well, you better fill us in, Easton. What’s going on?”
“Denny Clark took out his boat on a charter cruise last Tuesday,” Frost told them. “I haven’t been able to get details about the guest list, but it sounds like it was small and very exclusive. Denny walked away with a lot of cash, and so did his ex-wife, Carla. Same with the catering chef, Mr. Jin. The thing is, now Denny’s dead, and Carla is, too. The Berkeley police say she committed suicide, but it was the same day as Denny’s murder, so I’m suspicious about the timing. Mr. Jin disappeared on Wednesday morning, and no one has seen him since.”
Hayden frowned. “That’s two. You said there were three others. Who else?”
“Denny was in contact with a high-priced escort who uses the name Fawn. She’s been missing since Tuesday night, too. I’ve left messages, but she hasn’t checked in. If an escort was on the boat that night, then somebody on the guest list probably hired her. Fawn doesn’t come cheap.”
“What do you know about this cruise?” Hayden asked.
“Not a lot. I talked to a woman named Belinda Drake who uses the Roughing It as an entertainment venue for her clients. I think she’s the one who set up the Tuesday charter, but she won’t say anything about it. For now, I don’t have any leverage to make her talk.”
“I’m familiar with Belinda Drake. She’s close to the mayor. Tread carefully with her, Easton.” Hayden’s fingers drummed the desk. “Do you have a theory about all of this?”
“My theory is that something happened on that cruise last Tuesday that somebody wants to cover up,” Frost said. “All of the witnesses are disappearing.”
“But you have no idea what actually happened?” Hayden asked.
“No.”
“Or who was on the boat?”
“No.”
“So how do you propose to find out?”
“I have one more lead to follow up,” Frost told him. “Denny had a friend named Chester Bagley. I think he used him as a bartender on his charters. I’m going to try to find Chester and see if he knows anything about Tuesday.”
“Is that all you have?” Hayden asked.
Frost took a look at Trent Gorham, who almost imperceptibly shook his head.
“No, that’s not all,” Frost went on, ignoring Gorham. “I’m also following up on a theory that started with the PI. Coyle. He was convinced that several unsolved homicides in the past few years are connected.”
“Connected how?” Hayden asked.
Frost showed the captain a photograph of the red snake he’d found on the column of the 280 freeway the previous night. Behind Hayden, Cyril leaned forward to study it, too. He couldn’t read their faces to decide if they’d seen the graffiti before.
“This snake symbol has appeared near the scene of at least thirteen unexplained deaths in the last five years,” Frost said. “Actually, fourteen now that Coyle is dead. That includes Denny Clark and Carla Steiff, too.”
“I’m sorry, did you say fourteen deaths?” Hayden asked.
“Yes, sir. Including one of ours. A vice cop named Alan Detlowe.”
“Alan?” Hayden said sharply. “I knew Alan. Trent, that was your case, wasn’t it? I never heard about anything like this in conjunction with Alan’s murder. How is it possible this didn’t hit our radar earlier?”
Frost intervened as Gorham stammered for a response. “If I was in Trent’s shoes, I wouldn’t have taken Coyle seriously, either, sir. I was pretty dubious about the theory myself, but now it’s hard to ignore.”
“So what do you think this is about?” Cyril inquired from behind the captain’s shoulder. “Is it a gang-related symbol? Or part of an organized-crime syndicate?”
“It could be either,” Frost said. “Whoever is behind this, I’ve got their attention. They’ve been following me for two days. Someone planted a bug on me, too. They’ve been listening in on my conversations.”
Frost deposited a plastic bag with the disabled listening device on the desk in front of Hayden and Cyril. This time, even Gorham came off the wall and looked concerned.
“Who the hell has the balls to bug a police detective?” Hayden demanded.
“I identified one of the people who was following me,” Frost replied. “I tracked him down at Candlestick Point a couple of hours ago. He’s a city employee named Luis Moreno. When I got back to my desk, I called the department where he works. Moreno never checked in after lunch. His cover was blown. I think he’s gone.”
“Do you have anything else?” Hayden asked.
Frost hesitated.