Page 57 of Knife in the Back (New Orleans #4)

“I’m running financials on the PIB investigators,” Antoine said. “So far no one I’ve checked has any outward signs of being paid off, but I’ve still got several investigators to go. Cora’s been cross-checking Cresswell’s ledger against the crimes he’s known to have committed.”

“I’ve been able to eliminate about a third of the payments so far,” Cora said. “I’m trying to narrow down the unknown payments so that we can link them to PIB payoffs once Antoine identifies any investigators who might be compromised.”

“And I’m looking into the ST gang,” Lucien said.

That got Naomi’s attention. “The Delgado brothers were part of that gang. They left to start working for Gaffney. And possibly Cresswell, too. I was wondering yesterday if they’d really left, because historically that’s not been easy to do.

Are you looking at Gaffney working with them to distribute? ”

Lucien looked impressed. “I am. Cresswell was making a lot of money on the side, if his lifestyle was any indication. He told his wife that he’d won money at the track, but a win big enough to buy that house they used to own in the Garden District would have made some kind of news.

Just thinking about his lifestyle—and the amount he was paying out every month according to his ledger—that’s more money than he should have been able to make just selling drugs they skimmed from drug busts.

I know a few guys who used to be in the gang from when I was a prosecutor.

They turned state’s evidence to get a plea deal.

I’ve got messages out to them. They never gave up Cresswell or Gaffney, but to my knowledge, we never asked that question.

This could be a lot bigger than the simple reselling of a few kilos of coke here and there. ”

“Not only cocaine,” Naomi said. “We processed meth and ketamine and all kinds of pills that Gaffney could have stolen and sold.”

“Which brings us back to my question,” Molly said, pointing to the whiteboard. “What did you process that made you a target?”

Naomi wanted to groan. “Why are you so sure of this? And why is it so important?”

“Because framing you was a big deal,” Molly said promptly. “And an expensive deal. Killing you would have been so much easier.”

Ruthanne gave Naomi a smug look. “See? I told you.”

Molly looked amused. “So the question is still, why you?”

“Fine.” Naomi picked up the stack, then put it down. “I’m having trouble focusing on this. My brain is spinning too fast.”

“I know that feeling,” Cora said, patting Naomi’s shoulder. “Let’s go about this a different way. Did any evidence you processed ever go missing?”

“Sometimes, yes. I did a self-audit right before I got arrested. I discovered several things that were missing, but I found them. They’d just been stored in a different place than was listed in the database.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t mention the audits before.”

Naomi had to fight the urge to shrink back. “I did self-audits all the time. It wasn’t an isolated event.”

“Back off, Molly,” Ruthanne snapped. “You sound like you’re accusing my daughter of holding back information on purpose.”

Naomi gave her mother a grateful look. I love you, Mom.

Molly looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound accusing. I’m just surprised. Tell me about the audits, especially that last one.”

That whole period was fuzzy, the week before her arrest.

Cora slid her hand around the back of Naomi’s neck, squeezing lightly. “Breathe, hon.”

Naomi realized she’d started to hyperventilate.

She exhaled, then filled her lungs. “Okay. We were supposed to do formal audits annually. Those were done with varying degrees of frequency and thoroughness, so when I had free time, I did my own audits of the items I’d processed.

There’d been an issue with the court calling up some evidence that had gone missing—processed by someone else.

Big brouhaha ensued. Cops in the evidence room were investigated.

So I wanted to make sure my items were where the BEAST said they should be. ”

“The beast?” Cora asked.

“That’s the acronym for our database system: Bar-coded Evidence Analysis Statistical Tracking.

” Naomi rattled off the words that were forever stored in her mind.

“There were some missing items, but most of them we found in the wrong bins, like I said.” She forced herself to relive those final days of being in uniform. “I’ve blocked a lot of this out.”

Her mother leaned her head on Naomi’s shoulder, a comforting presence. “I’m not surprised.”

“What kinds of things were missing?” Cora asked.

“A few handguns. Some jewelry that had been part of a department store theft. There was an old candlestick that was used to murder someone. It was an antique, solid silver.” Oh. Silver. A detail clicked in her mind. “There was also a ring.”

“What made it special?” Cora asked.

“It was beautiful. I remember the way it caught the light. A man’s ring.

” She forced herself to think through each step of that day.

Because the ring was the type of item that Molly had been searching for.

“It came in a week before I did my last audit before my arrest. Some guy met me at the door as I was leaving for the day. He’d been waiting for someone to come out to give it to.

Said he’d found it at the scene of a crime. ”

“That’s not suspicious,” Molly muttered. “What happened then?”

“It wasn’t suspicious,” Naomi said. “Not like you’re thinking, anyway.

He was a young guy. College age. CSI wannabe.

We got those sometimes. Usually they called us on the phone, saying they’d seen something or found something.

Usually they were asking if there was a reward.

We referred those calls to the right department. ”

“But this guy came in person,” Cora murmured. It was a soothing sound. Her hand on Naomi’s neck was soothing as well. “He brought you the ring.”

“He did. Told me where he’d found it. I recognized the address—the body of a known drug dealer had been found there the week before. I immediately called one of the detectives I knew to come and get it.”

“Which detective did you call?” Molly asked.

“Not Gaffney, thank goodness,” Naomi said.

“I called Walt Edwards. He was Homicide. He’d been one of my instructors at the academy and we’d kept in touch.

” Sadness washed over her in a wave. “He died while I was waiting for my trial. Heart attack. Anyway, I escorted the guy who’d found the ring into the lobby of the evidence warehouse and waited until Walt got there.

I had to maintain the chain of custody, so I didn’t let the ring or the CSI wannabe out of my sight until Walt arrived.

He took the ring and gave the CSI wannabe a receipt.

He brought it back a day later and I processed it into the system. ”

“When was this?” Antoine asked from Burke’s desk. “And where was the ring found?”

“About two weeks before I got arrested. One week before I did the audit. I checked the location of the crime scene where he said he’d found it. Down off Tchoupitoulas, near Napoleon. Like I said, the body of a known drug dealer had been found there the week before.”

Antoine tapped the keys of the laptop in front of him. “Jeffrey Stacey. He was a known member of the ST gang.”

“Like the Delgados.” Naomi felt a flutter of excitement in her chest. That was a connection, and connections were good.

“Like I said, I processed the ring, then stored it, but when I did my own audit, the ring wasn’t in its bin.

I told my supervisor and we all looked for it.

One of the others found it and put it back, but when I double-checked on my next shift, it wasn’t the same ring.

I told my supervisor that if we couldn’t find it I’d request a formal audit, as that was evidence tied to a homicide.

My boss set everyone to looking again. The correct ring was found the next day and stored.

I figured that was that. And then, a week later, I stopped to help Winnifred Timms, whose car was broken down on the side of the road. ”

“I wonder if that ring is still there,” Molly said. “I’m betting it’s not.”

“Sucker bet,” Lucien murmured. “What did it look like, Naomi?”

“It was silver, a fancy pattern. I think it’s called filigree? It was definitely a man’s ring.”

“What happened with that case, Antoine?” Cora asked.

“Went cold, according to NOPD’s records. And there’s no ring listed among the evidence items linked to the case.”

Molly went to the whiteboard and, underneath the WHY NAOMI? , wrote MISSING RING .

Lucien held up a hand. “Add that Naomi threatened to request a formal audit.”

“Good point,” Molly said and added that to the board. “We could be looking at either the threat of an audit or the ring itself or both. That the ring wasn’t among the evidence linked to the case makes me think both.”

“I agree,” Lucien said grimly. “What evidence was collected from the scene, Antoine?”

“The dealer’s wallet, emptied. No drugs. His gun was found underneath his body. He was holding a broken silver chain in his hand. He was shot in the gut and then once in the head. I guess they wanted to be sure he was dead. Where did the college kid say he found the ring, Naomi?”

“In a storm gutter, stuck in some trash.”

“Fancy filigree,” Cora said. “Can you think of specifics?”

Naomi closed her eyes and tried to visualize the ring but drew a blank. “There was a pattern in the silver, but I can’t remember what it was. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Molly said. “I think we’ve found the case we need to research. You called Homicide, but I wonder if they called Gaffney, since it was a dealer who got killed.”

“They did,” Antoine said, “but Homicide held on to the case. Here’s something interesting. The homicide detective noted that word on the street was that the dealer had been transporting a big shipment from one of the cartels to the STs. The gang was not pleased when the shipment went missing.”

“Send me any information you can find on that case,” Molly requested. “I’ll see what more I can dig up. This is a good lead, Naomi. Go get some rest.”

That sounded like a really good idea. Naomi needed to be awake when she met with Eleanor’s neighbors later.