Page 13 of Dead Drunk (Cold Case Psychic #36)

Tennyson

Ten didn’t have long to bask in the glory of his little win over Fallon Kirkpatrick. A killer was still out there, one who’d been brash enough to commit murder inside the Salem Police Department. One who was possibly the chief of that very precinct.

Putting Cisco out of his mind, Ten concentrated on the task at hand; Duncan MacBain. Ten had never met the man and couldn’t remember Ronan ever mentioning his name, which meant he was most likely trying to fly under the radar. Something that would be essential if you were running a criminal enterprise right under the police department’s nose.

“This is it?”

Jude asked from the front seat of Fitzgibbon’s SUV. He was staring at the local bowling alley.

“This is where MacBain works?”

“Whatever supports his gambling habit. Don’t forget he’s got his pension from thirty years with the SPD.”

Ronan opened his door and got out of the SUV.

“How many times have we taken the kids here on Friday nights for Cosmic Bowling with those neon colored lights flashing all over the place?”

Jude asked, when Ronan met up with him in front of the building.

“Too many to count. I don’t ever remember seeing MacBain here, do you?”

“Nope, but every time we come here I’m busy trying to keep Wonder Wolf from doing a slip and slide down the alley.”

Jude opened the door and walked inside.

The place was packed. Nearly every lane was occupied.

“There he is,”

Ronan said, pointing to the shoe rental counter.

“You ever think it’s creepy to wear shoes a ton of other people wore before you? People who died could have worn those shoes.”

“People who wore these shoes have died.”

Ten grinned.

“See the old lady with the bright pink hair?”

“Dead shoes?”

Ronan gasped.

“Dead soles!”

Ten laughed at his own corny dad joke.

“That’s not funny.”

Ronan reached the rental counter.

“Hey, Duncan, how’s it going?”

“The fuck are you doing here, O’Mara?”

Duncan asked, sounding surprised.

“We need to talk to you for a few minutes.”

Ronan motioned to Jude and Fitz who were standing near the door.

“Any way you can take a break?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

Duncan picked up a walkie-talkie and asked someone named Diamond to come up to the front. When his replacement appeared, Duncan motioned the detectives to follow him. He led them to an empty break room.

“It’s quarter to twelve, lunch breaks start in fifteen minutes, talk fast.”

He took a seat at the round table and motioned for Ronan to join him.

“What can you tell us about deaths at the Salem Jail?”

Fitz asked, obviously wasting no time.

“We know of four men who were killed in the cells between 2014 to 2018.”

“If you’re here trying to say I killed those guys-”

Fitz held up his hands, stopping Duncan’s rant.

“I’m not here to say anything, Duncan. We just want you to tell us what you know,”

Fitz said, in a placating tone.

Duncan sighed.

“Look you gotta know that money was tight. You guys are on the job, you know they pay us shit.”

“Yeah, I know,”

Fitz agreed.

“Sometimes guys would slip me cash to go into the jail and speak to people who were under arrest. It was usually when pretty drunk girls were being held. You know, the kind who’ll take a dollah to make you hollah?”

Duncan elbowed Fitz.

“Yeah, I know the type. Did people ever slip you money to visit male prisoners?”

“Sure, all the time,”

Duncan said.

“It’s a free country. You love who you love, right?”

Ten felt sick to his stomach. Obviously the corruption went further than the four men who’d been murdered in the jail cells.

“Duncan, four men are dead. Killed by overdoses of insulin. All four of them died on your watch. You understand this looks bad for you, right?”

Fitz asked, his earlier friendliness gone.

Duncan sighed.

“I want immunity.”

“You know we can’t guarantee that,”

Ronan said.

“Yes, we can,”

Fitz interrupted.

“Tell us everything. Now.”

He pulled up his phone and set it in front of Duncan.

“This is Captain Kevin Fitzgibbon meeting with Duncan MacBain regarding the Jefferson McGrath investigation.”

He turned to Duncan.

“Who was going into the jail to visit suspects?”

“Cops, lawyers, medics, you name it,”

Duncan said.

“Jesus Christ,”

Ronan whispered under his breath.

“What can you tell us about the men who were murdered in the cells?”

“They paid the price for not agreeing to work with-”

Duncan stopped. He eyed Fitzgibbon.

“I’ve got immunity, right?”

“Yes, you have immunity from prosecution,”

Fitz said, sounding annoyed.

“Now, tell me what you were about to say.”

“It was the price to pay for not working with Fallon Kirkpatrick and Doom.”

Fitzgibbon’s eyes widened.

“Who the hell is Doom?”

MacBain shrugged.

“Beats me. All I know is that he was in charge of the scheme.”

“What scheme?”

“Cops pull over and arrest drunk drivers. The perps are booked and get a little visit from Kirkpatrick, who offers to take their case and promises to get them off, but he needs to be paid in cash.”

“Hold on a second, Kirkpatrick works for the public defender’s office, clients don’t pay him.”

Fitzgibbon wore a confused look.

“The cases were off the books,”

Duncan said.

“Anyway if the person agreed, they paid the money, and Kirkpatrick contacted the cops who made the arrest and made sure they knew not to show up at court so the case would be dismissed. The money each defendant paid was split between Doom, Kirkpatrick and the cops in on the arrest.”

“What was the fee?”

Jude asked.

“Five grand per charge.”

MacBain grinned as he spoke.

Jude whistled.

“No wonder Kirkpatrick was living in a million dollar house. God, you’re an asshole!”

“What?”

MacBain held his hands up as if to say he was innocent.

“It’s better than losing your license and spending five years in jail for a first OUI offense. Ten years in jail for a second and the third’s a felony charge doing real prison time, not that bullshit county jail which is more of a glorified country club.”

Ten couldn’t believe his ears. Turning to Ronan and Jude, he could see both men looked dumbfounded.

Fitz wore an incredulous look.

“Ten, is he telling the truth?”

“Yeah, it’s all true. He also worked security for underground poker games members of the SPD ran.”

“Who’s Doom?”

Fitzgibbon asked.

“He doesn’t know. I can see everything in his mind from first grade through this moment, clear as day. He doesn’t know who Doom is.”

Ten crazily wondered for a minute if Everly would have been able to get that information from MacBain.

“Can you make an educated guess based on the cops who paid you to let them into the jail?”

Ronan asked.

“Christ, you got all day? The guys who came in for a piece of ass were endless.”

MacBain grinned.

A scene of MacBain getting his own piece of ass flashed through Ten’s mind. He felt like he was going to throw up.

The look on Ronan’s face was of pure disgust.

“I don’t give two fucks about them, MacBain, who came in to see the male prisoners?”

“Oliveri and Jackson were my most frequent guests to see the male prisoners.”

Fitz shook his head.

“What did you mean when you said the dead men paid the price for not working with Kirkpatrick and Doom?”

“You’ve heard the line ‘snitches get stiches’? Same thing. When former clients refused to hire Kirkpatrick again and threatened to go to the cops about the whole scheme, Doom had them killed. Couldn’t risk unhappy customers running their mouths about what they knew.”

“How were these men being murdered?”

“Insulin overdose. Drunks are easy to subdue. Like Doom used to say, one little shot in the gut and it’s night, night, asshole.”

Ten’s eyes widened.

“Those were the words Jefferson McGrath’s killer said.”

Ronan nodded.

“Anything else you can tell us?”

“Not for nothing, but everything stopped when Cisco became the interim police chief. Weird, huh?”

“We’ll be in touch, Duncan,”

Fitzgibbon said, grabbing his phone and turning off the recorder.

“Don’t leave town and keep your fucking mouth shut. Don’t make me come after you.”

Fitz left the room with Jude right behind him.

MacBain nodded.

“Hey, you, psychic? He gonna keep his word about my immunity”

“Yes, and I don’t need my gift to tell me that. Kevin Fitzgibbon is the most honest man I know.”

Ten turned to leave, but stopped.

“Pay your debts. Big Al is coming for you. Trust me when I say no one will find your body.”

“Jesus Christ!”

MacBain bounced out of his seat and looked like he was about to bolt.

“Is that really what you saw?”

Ronan asked, when they were far enough away not to be overheard.

“Oh, yeah, Big Al doesn’t play. I may have made it sound more imminent, but payback’s coming and you’re gonna need him alive to testify against Kirkpatrick and Doom.”

He just hoped that when the time came Cisco Jackson wouldn’t be the defendant.