CHAPTER 10

Matt headed back down to the forensics lab and as he stepped off of the elevator, he ran into none other than Det. John Oxford who was looking less than happy. The detective shot Houston a disgusted look and got on the elevator. As he walked into the lab, he could hear the sound of several people laughing. "What's so funny?" He stopped to look at Cheryl who appeared ready to pass out.

"Well, the wild iguana hunt is history. Oxford brought in the owner of a pet shop for questioning. He thought that he had kidnapped the chief's iguana and was trying to sell it." Everyone in the lab was rolling once again. "Turns out that the store owner happens to be a friend of the chief – and he filed a complaint on Oxford. When the chief found out what was going on he called him in for a little, uh…chat. I'd say his butt is still bright red from the chewing he got."

"Ya know it could be carpet burn." Matt slipped that last remark in there smoothly and set the techs off again. "Have you gotten anything else?"

"No, the MAC 10 just got here. I'm about to process it." She wiped her eyes and blew her nose before donning a pair of gloves and starting to work on the weapon. As she started to print it, she looked up at Matt. "How in the world does CJ do it?"

"Do what?" Matt took a seat on a stool that was at one of the counters in the lab.

"Deal with you on a twenty-four-hour-a-day basis?" She shook her head.

"I don't know – but she doesn't seem to mind. Especially the night time hours." He wiggled his eyebrows at Cheryl and grinned.

"You are just bad, Houston, bad." She went back to work and began running the prints that came off of the weapon. "Hmm…looks like this gun has been around. We've got Patrillo's prints on the barrel and Angel Ramirez's on the trigger."

"Is he with the 18th Street Angels by chance?" Matt thought he had figured out the whole thing now.

"Let's see." Cheryl tapped a few more keys on the computer and motioned Matt over to take a look.

"Hmm, seems like someone has been a bad boy for quite some time. He's one of the ones they picked up while ago." Matt read the record of the gang member. He had joined the Angels at the age of ten and been in trouble off and on ever since, doing three stretches behind bars: the first two as a juvenile and the last as an adult. He jotted down a couple of pieces of information on the man and thanked the tech before heading upstairs. Jenkins and Trenton had Ramirez in one interrogation room and Patrillo was in another being guarded by an officer. When Matt approached the room that Ramirez was in, Trenton opened the door and invited him inside. He sat down in a chair and propped his feet up on the table as the gang member shot him a curious look.

Jenkins spoke up. "Mr. Ramirez here doesn't seem to want to talk – except for in Spanish. We've sent for a translator."

"No need." Matt looked over at the suspect. "¿Por qué disparaste Adolfo?" Although he looked somewhat surprised, Ramirez didn't answer. "He just doesn't want to talk, boys. But that's okay: Patrillo is talking enough for everybody. You don't have to say a word, punk." He grinned and started to get up.

"Si él te dice algo él es un hombre muerto." Ramírez sneered at Houston.

"No es de buena educación hacer amenazas que conoces." Matt returned the look. "Has he got a lawyer yet?"

"No, for some reason his usual lawyer doesn't want to work for him anymore. Said his retainer has expired." Jenkins was standing with his arms crossed behind the suspect.

"Let me guess: Havilland?" Matt turned to look at Jenkins.

"Yup."

The private eye grinned at Jenkins. "Guess that's what happens when one of his clients tries to kill another."

"So what did you two talk about in there?" Jenkins followed him out into the hall.

"Well, let's see…I asked why he shot Adolfo and he didn't answer. Then he said if Patrillo says anything he's a dead man. Then I told him that it wasn't polite to make threats. That's pretty much it." Matt grinned and stepped into the room where Patrillo was being held. Without saying a word, he sat down in a chair and once again propped his feet up on the table.

Patrillo looked at him. "Thought you weren't a cop."

"I'm not – I'm a consultant to the department. You know, the cop you shot is my best friend." Matt glared at him.

"I didn't shoot a cop – Ramirez did." He leaned back in the chair.

"Yeah, but it was your gun wasn't it? Your prints are on it." The gang member just glared at Matt, who shrugged his shoulders. "Either way, you're going to get pinched for it – if you didn't pull the trigger you supplied the weapon. Guilty either way. Oh, and just so you know: the hit on Adolfo didn't work. Well not exactly. He got shot alright – just in the butt. That's a lot of territory there – it didn't hit anything important." He grinned at Patrillo. "Speaking of Adolfo – he's pretty steamed at you. Actually that's putting it mildly." Matt put his feet on the floor and stood up, leaning over on the table. "Did you know Maureen was pregnant?" The shocked look on Patrillo's face spoke volumes. "So you can understand why Adolfo is so mad – you not only killed his wife, you also killed his child."

"I didn't know, man. Look, I didn't want to do it. The Angels, they made me do it to prove myself to them. Killing Maureen's brothers wasn't enough. I had to prove that I was serious about doing business with them." He looked scared at that point.

"So tell me: what kind of business deal were you guys working on? Drugs? Didn't think you and Manzana could handle the business without Adolfo? He wanted to go straight and quit the gang and the drug business. You two knew that the Angels would move in and take over – and take you and the rest of the gang out. So y'all talked to some of the other members. After you tried to frame him for the Lovelace murders and it didn't work, you tried to kill him again by blowing up his SUV. And thanks to me that didn't work out either." He saw the surprised look on Patrillo's face. "Yep, that was me that called him and let him know what was going on."

"How did you know?" Patrillo sat up straight in the chair.

"Oh, I've been around a while. Not the first time I've seen the extension cord trick." He leaned forward. "Even used it one time in Afghanistan." The last was barely audible, but it had the desired effect: Patrillo was obviously scared.

"You did?"

Matt nodded. "Uh huh – good ole Army Special Forces. That wasn't too long before I got transferred to Intelligence." He gave the gang member another cold look and then looked at his watch. "I'm going to guess that your public defender will be here in about an hour. That gives you plenty of time to think about what you're going to say. And it better help us convict Ramirez. You know, with stalling on the death penalty deal, you could wind up spending no telling how long sitting on death row." Patrillo didn't say a word but was staring at Matt looking even more scared than he had before. "You ever been there?" The suspect shook his head no. "I have. Not much fun at all. You know fourteen folks have committed suicide there since 1977. Guess they just couldn't wait, huh?" He stood up and headed for the door, then stopped and turned to look at the man. "I'd say helping us out might be the only thing standing between you and a needle in the arm – but with the delay in executions now, that could be a long time. Either way, your life is pretty much over." He walked on out into the hall and up to the coffee pot located behind Sanchez's desk, pouring himself a cup.

"Looks like it's about over." Luis Sanchez looked at Houston. "Guess it's worth having somebody hate my guts to catch the guy that shot the lieutenant."

Matt looked over at the squad room where Oxford was pounding on his keyboard. "I wouldn't worry about it too much if I were you. Somehow I've got a feeling he won't be around a whole lot longer." He drank a long swallow of the coffee and looked at his watch. "I'm going to go visit Hoyt and then I'm going home. It's been a long day." He downed the rest of the coffee and tossed the cup in the trash. "Thanks for your help by the way. I would nominate you for an Emmy…but I think you have to be a member of the Actors' Guild." Matt pushed the button for the elevator and disappeared.