Chapter 25
Korsak ended his phone call as he walked up to Jane's desk, his face the picture of smugness.
"Since I know you won't ask, I'll just tell you and you can fall at my feet, worshipping me when I'm done."
Jane didn't look up from reading her email. "Sooooo breathless with anticipation. Please. Please. Tell me."
Korsak grimaced, a tad irritated with her dispassionate delivery. "Just answer me this, Miss I'm-Too-Fucking-Cool, why are you always bustin' my chops when I gotta lead?"
"I don't know what you mean, Korsak." Mentally she counted off the seconds, schooling her features into indifference.
"Christ on a stick!"
"Dollar in the pot, Korsak. You used Christ's name-"
Blustering, Korsak cut off Frost. "No-no…no, no I didn't!"
"Two more for tryin' to weasel outta it!" Jane's demeanor was disapproving. "One more word, Korsak and it's doubled."
Frost called out, "You'd figure after the last time, he'd learn. We warned you, man."
Red-faced and vein-popping, Korsak looked from one detective to the other as the protests died on his gaping mouth. "Fuck you, fuck you both!" He hissed, then began to stalk off, leaving behind peals of raucous laughter.
Immediately Jane got out of her chair and went after him. "Awww, c'mon, Korsak, we were only playin'!" She took hold of his arm and stopped his progress. "Honestly, we're sorry, okay? Please, really, just tell us what you got?"
Korsak resentfully wrestled his arm away from Jane's grasp. His eyes were torn between suspicion and eagerness.
As he took a minute to decide, Jane couldn't help herself. He really shouldn't have given her that time. "Jesus is waiting." She droned.
Without preamble, Korsak shoved his notepad into her midsection and stormed away, muttering, "Assholes, assholes, assholes."
When they were finally done laughing, Jane and Frost opened Korsak's notes but the last laugh was on them. The scribble was undecipherable, making a doctor's script look like calligraphy.
Sighing, Jane shook her fist and said to Frost, "Best out of three?"
Roshambo definitely didn't fall under Jane's list of accomplishments.
"Rock beats scissors. I win. Again." Frost sang.
"Best outta five?"
Shaking his head he did a celebratory dance back to his desk.
Jane flicked open her phone and dialed Korsak's number. He waited four rings before he picked up. "Korsak, I'm sorry. No bullshit."
"Couldn't read my handwriting, could yah?"
Biting back a retort, Jane replied honestly, "No, I could not."
She forced herself to listen to his cackling until he was finished. Minutes seemed to pass. It was insufferable, the wait for Korsak to harness his vengeful enjoyment. Jane withstood it, knowing this was her comeuppance, that this was part of their game.
"Can we get back to work now, Korsak?"
"I'll be up in a minute." Before hanging up, he asked, an afterthought. "Want a doughnut?"
Jane ended the call then decided to text Maura.
What u doin? –J
Training. You? –M
Thinking. –J
About? -M
Your mouth. –J
When she didn't immediately receive a reply, Jane chuckled and shoved her phone in her back pocket. The day just kept getting better but tomorrow night was going to sizzle.
"Hey, Jane, I think I got something." Frost announced, his attention still glued to the computer screen. When she leaned over his shoulder, he continued, pointing, "Okay, Rafton and Casey had various parole officers, but-see this one, Rosemary Austin, was assigned both of their cases on the same day, a week before the first murder."
"Can you find out if she was their original parole officer or reassigned to their case?"
Frost tapped some more keys. "I'm searching their historical data. Should be able to see if they were reassigned to Austin on the same day."
Jane waited anxiously, drumming her fingers on his desk.
"I work better if I'm not crowded." He stated pointedly.
With a lack of enthusiasm she withdrew, crossing her arms.
"Pacing doesn't help either."
Hearing the muffled alert on her phone, Jane retrieved it. There was a text from Maura.
On you. –M
Jane's breath was lost somewhere between an exhale and sigh.
"Okay, here it is, Jane. They were transferred to her four weeks before the first murder."
Korsak reunited with the other detectives, bearing a sack of doughnuts. He walked straight towards them and took the seat next to Frost's desk.
"When did Casey hook back up with Shay?" She asked Korsak, returning his notebook.
"The day after Shay lodged a formal complaint with Chavez. She named Cema in it, too."
"We need to talk to this parole officer, now."
"She's at the Hillcrest location." Frost supplied, already grabbing his coat.
"Hold up, Frost." Jane turned to the older detective. "What did you find out?"
"Gossip about Renee Berkley, the Housing Authority operations manager. My source said to check with a Rueben Shultz."
"What kind of gossip?"
"Two sets of books."
"Ahhh, a dummy for work with everything legit-"
"And a real one, with illegal details." Frost finished her sentence.
"Okay, Korsak, you go track down the parole officer. Me and Frost will take Shultz."
Constance Isles was reading a magazine while her daughter was checking her phone every few minutes and doing paperwork. She had stayed behind as a reconnaissance mission, collecting valuable intelligence on Maura. If nothing else, at least my presence is a likely a deterrent to keep Maura from madly dashing after that vile black-haired demon spawn. She knew she was being a little harsh on the detective. Vile is a touch dramatic. Yet, she seemed powerless to curb her caustic reaction to the woman. She had long ago accepted Maura's…penchant for females. Furthermore, Constance welcomed it for what she said earlier stood true: Maura had the most dreadful taste in men. She wouldn't be surprised had her daughter continued down that path, she would have wound up dating a serial killer.
Surreptitiously she casts looks in Maura's direction. Such lovely bone structure. Constance smothered a yawn, glimpsing at her Cartier watch. Oh, dear heaven, there must be something I can do to speed this up!
"Darling?"
Committed to finishing, Maura didn't look up but answered, "Yes, mother."
"It's nearly time for tea, why don't we-"
"Once I finish these, I promise, we'll go shopping-"
"How delightful, darling. What's the occasion?" Constance cried, clapping her hands together in delight.
At this, Maura did look up, a small smile crossed her lips. "I need a pair of shoes."
Constance gushed, "I saw the most divine pair of stilettos by Charlotte Olympia-"
"The Bellatrix shoe?" Maura simpered, the paperwork temporarily forgotten. "I saw those online-"
"Simply delicious, aren't they?" Constance perched on the edge of the couch, nearly vibrating with excitement. "Of course, they're not something I could wear anymore but they'd be just marvelous for you, darling!"
The allure of shoe shopping was proficient competition for tedious paperwork. Maura vaguely experienced a pang of shame for ditching work but it paled against the brilliance of new shoes and the occasion for which she wanted to wear them. The off-the-shoulder sheath dress with the sweetheart neckline in the front and back she had bought months ago hung neglected in her cavernous closet. Just perfect for tomorrow night.
"Let me finish this last one, mother, and we can leave."
I should have led with shoe shopping! Constance thought.
The BHA was a tri-level brick building on the Northside of the city. Jane had to circle several times around the block before ultimately giving up and parking two blocks away. They marched up the street, the brunette gesticulating as she spoke and Frost evading, synchronized with his partner's behavior. The sun was warm on their faces as they dodged small clusters of people. When they reached the corner, Frost insisted on buying a hotdog from the street vendor as he whined about skipping lunch.
"So, what's up with you and Maura?" He asked, squirreling away a huge bite of hotdog in his cheek. Jane didn't verbally answer but he noticed the detective's red face. "Whoa…what's this? Jane Rizzoli blushing."
"Ass." She muttered, swiping at a fly buzzing around his food.
Knowing her as well as he did, Frost waited, popping the last of his lunch in his mouth.
"We're…I guess you could…" She floundered, embarrassed and unsure. "Going on a date? Tomorrow?"
"So, where you goin' on this date?"
They resumed walking.
"The Regis."
Frost whistled, his eyebrows rising comically. "Drinks or…?"
Jane punched his shoulder, glaring. "Mind your own business."
Rueben Shultz was a very large man, close to seven feet tall and four feet wide. For all his impressive girth, he was graceful in movement and gentle in speech. Deep-set brown eyes conveyed a keen intelligence as he offered them a seat in his office.
"Thanks for meeting with us, Mr. Shultz."
"Over the phone you sounded as if I didn't have a choice." He replied, his baritone voice modulated. Alert and relaxed, Rueben's behavior didn't trigger an alarm with either detective. "I presume you're here to talk about Mrs. Berkley."
Frost and Jane shared a look.
"Were you two close?" Jane questioned.
"Information is power, Detective Rizzoli. I've made my...career with what I know, not whom."
"Evasive."
Rueben smiled without warmth. "Not at all. We had a professional relationship lacking mutual respect."
"How so?" Jane smoothed out imaginary wrinkles on the material stretched across her thigh.
Frost commented, "So, we'll put you down for 'not close'."
"I've worked with Mrs. Berkley on various projects over the years. I've kept notes and documents. One might say I've accumulated quite a file on her."
"This-file-was used as leverage for you over the years?" She had hit a nerve.
"Let's just say it was a source of protection if the need arose."
"And you're tellin' us this why?"
Rueben grinned, leaned back in his creaking leather chair. "She's dead."
"You want me to believe your information is useless now?" Jane scoffed.
"No, not at all, Detective Rizzoli." He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "It's time to allow others benefit from it."
"You're making a power play, a run at her position." Jane smiled, feeling slightly nauseated. "You hand over the file, probably your intention all along at some point, but her dying was too good of an opportunity for you, wasn't it, Rueben?"
"If you don't want it, Detective Rizzoli, I'm sure the mayor will."
"What do you want in return?" Frost asked.
"Nothing, Frost. The scandal will have BHA executives scrambling and our guy Rueben here…he's gonna assume command. What I want to know is why not pull this power play before she died?" When he didn't answer, just maintained the blank smile on his poker face, Jane continued, "She had her own little file."
"I wouldn't know about that." He replied but his grin deepened, looked virtually sincere.
Without further ado, Rueben produced a thick brown bundle and pushed it towards Jane.
"I think you'll find everything you need in there."
As they stood, Frost collected the file. Weakly Jane shook Rueben's hand, put off by his calculating motivation. Please, someone just shoot me!
"One thing, Rueben, before we leave."
"Of course."
She peered at him, unwavering and cold. "Did you kill Renee Berkley?"
"I was under the impression the cause of death was inconclusive."
Jane nodded, jaw clenched.
Once she and Frost were clear of the building, hurriedly retracing their steps, Jane couldn't slow down. Her partner, somewhat confused, followed in silence until Jane abruptly stopped down the street under a shade tree.
"Slimy bastard! He probably killed her, too, and we can't prove shit."
"We'll talk to the DA-"
"Maybe. Maybe he won't get away with it."
Frost held up the file. "What's in here…might give us a lead that nails Shultz."
"Somehow, I think he's a little too clever for that."
They reached the sedan within minutes.
Korsak, experienced and successful in dealing with law enforcement personnel, had a far flung network, penetrating various branches. Throughout the years he had brokered 'favors' like Donald Trump once ruled the real estate market. If he didn't 'know a guy' he knew someone who did which greatly aided in tracking down information.
He sauntered into the parole office, feigning bewilderment as he made his way down the bustling corridor.
"What yah lookin' for?" A young woman asked, walking up to him.
"I'm Detective Korsak from the 7th Precinct." They shook hands. "I'm a little turned around here."
"Oh, that's easy to do, detective. You probably want to speak with a parole officer, huh?" When he nodded, a smidgeon over-zealously, the kind lady offered, "I'm goin' by that way, so just follow me."
"What's your name?" Ever the opportunist, Korsak's smile bordered on devilish as he chatted her up.