Earthquake in San Francisco
Chapter 8
1
Vivian Page could tell that Ed was bored. She wished she'd never turned that television on. Ever since they'd seen what was going on in San Francisco, Ed was distant with her. She could tell his mind was on his boss and the Golden Gate city. Why anybody would live in an area that could have devastating earthquakes was incomprehensible to her. Then again, if San Francisco fell into the ocean, she could have Ed to herself.
They were in the same penthouse apartment, and she hadn't seen him for over two hours. She could hear the faint sound of the television in her bedroom. Ed was surfing the channels trying to find a news report on San Francisco. If they were to be together, he had to forget about San Francisco and everybody in the city. After all, New York was just a bigger San Francisco . . . without the earthquakes.
Vivian had an idea. If she could get him involved in some police work here in New York, he wouldn't have time to think about what was going on with his boss.
The actress walked over to the phone, picked up the receiver and dialed the New York Police department. She was determined to get Ed away from Ironside and San Francisco. What a better way than to immerse him in a case in New York.
"Captain Emerick," the detective announced himself.
"JC, it's Vivian."
The detective smiled at the sound of her voice. He liked her from the moment he met her. Despite there being a bit of an age difference, he had considered asking her for dinner. Unfortunately, she was smitten with the San Francisco detective. JC didn't believe for a minute that Ed Brown wanted to come to New York and join New York's finest. In fact, he believed the entire idea was Vivian's. She seemed determined to bring the California law officer to New York. As much as he'd love to have him in the department, he didn't think it would ever happen.
"Hello, Vivian. It's so nice to hear from you. How's Sergeant Brown?"
"Well, that's why I'm calling you. Have you seen what's going on in San Francisco?"
"You mean the earthquakes, of course?"
"Yes, that's what I mean. Ever since Ed saw it on the television, he's been moping around here. I've tried to convince him Chief Ironside can handle whatever is happening in the city. I think Ed is thinking about going back to San Francisco to help his chief."
"I'm not surprised. I got the impression that he really wasn't interested in joining the department here."
"I believe he would be very happy here," Vivian lied, "He has indicated he's interested in the position in the New York Police Department."
Surprised to hear this, Captain Emerick was encouraged. He certainly would love to have Brown in his department. "But, if that's the case, then why is he considering going back to San Francisco?"
"He's just worried about his chief. He needs a distraction. I was wondering if there's any way you could get him involved in a case here?"
Captain Emerick thought about it. He was even more anxious than Vivian was to bring Sergeant Brown to New York. She might have something there at that. If he could get him involved, he might find New York City would be more to his taste. There was so much going on and so many cases to solve. "I think it could be arranged. I could give him a case to solve on his own and assign some officers to assist him. He'd be in charge, of course."
"Excellent! I was hoping you'd say that. How soon can you arrange it?" Vivian asked excitedly.
"Almost right away. There's no lack of crime in New York as you know. Give me an hour and I'll find a case that I think he can immerse himself in. That should take care of his homesickness."
"Then you'll call back shortly?"
"I will just as soon as I can pick out something I believe he can become hooked on."
"You're a lifesaver, JC. I won't forget this."
JC wished she was as obsessed with him as she was with Ed Brown. If this didn't work, then maybe he stood a chance with her. He couldn't believe he was trying to help her keep Ed Brown in New York. He supposed that either way he would win. If Brown stayed, he would gain a superior officer. If he left, he just might have a chance with Vivian. Certainly, she'd realize a relationship with Ed Brown was impossible if he refused to leave San Francisco.
He gave her a halfhearted laugh. "Of course you won't forget it. I won't let you."
"We'll have to have lunch sometime when your schedule isn't so busy," she suggested.
JC smiled. "I'd like that, Vivian. I really would."
"Then it's a date. We'll talk about it later." Vivian hung up the phone. She wasn't blind. JC was interested in her and she knew it. The last thing she wanted was to get involved with another cop. She intended to get Ed Brown to leave the profession. Vivian wasn't the least bit interested in JC Emerick. He was another career police officer who'd never give up the profession. Still, she knew she could manipulate him into helping her by using his attraction to her. Vivian was used to getting what she wanted, and she wanted Ed Brown.
2
The elevator ride up to Ironside's office seemed like it took forever. Frank Hunt wasn't looking forward to seeing the detective. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone he'd like to see less. He should've been more careful. Lieutenant Reese must've arrived in a vehicle. Yet, he didn't even hear the lieutenant drive up. It wasn't often he was caught off guard.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Frank Hunt had never been in Ironside's office. Despite that fact, he knew the detective's office was to the left. The ramp leading up to the door was a dead giveaway.
"Look, Lieutenant, Ironside is probably busy. Just have him mail the paperwork to me. I don't want to disturb him." He turned to walk back to the elevator, but Reese grabbed his arm.
"The chief is always busy. That doesn't mean he can't see people who stop in the office. He'll make sure that you get the complaint papers that you want." Reese pushed him gently up the ramp. He certainly didn't want to be accused of police brutality.
Opening the door to the chief's office, Reese indicated for Hunt to enter in front of him. Not having any other choice, Frank walked into the detective's office.
"Look who I found hanging around the elevator in the police garage," Carl told Ironside.
Ironside turned his chair toward his guest. "Well, Mister Hunt, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. I trust you're completely disappointed and frustrated to find a key-less entry into the elevator."
"Not at all. You told me I could stop by and pick up the paperwork to file a complaint."
"Why didn't you come through the front entrance like everyone else?" Ironside growled.
"I thought the back entrance would be faster."
"What you really mean is that you thought you could sneak up on the chief," Mark said.
"That's ridiculous. I just want the paperwork to file a complaint."
"You could have gotten that downstairs," Ironside pointed out.
"I came here because you said you'd give me the paperwork. Now, are you going to give it to me or not?" Hunt snarled right back at him.
"Eve, get Mister Hunt the paperwork to file a complaint against the police department."
Officer Whitfield went to the computer and ran off a copy of a complaint form. She took it off the printer, walked over to Hunt, and handed it to him.
"Is there anything else, Mister Hunt?" Ironside demanded.
"No, that's it."
The chief noticed that Frank Hunt was looking around the room, taking in everything about the layout. "Would you like a guided tour?" The detective snarled.
Upset with himself for being caught casing the room, he tried to hide it. "No thanks, I couldn't care less how you live. Unless I'm under arrest, I'm leaving."
"You're the one that came here. We didn't come after you, so what makes you think you'd be under arrest?" Ironside asked. "If there's nothing else, get out, Mr Hunt."
"I thought this was a public office."
"It's also my home," Ironside said gruffly, "and you're not welcome. If you've no further business with the police, you can leave. And the next time, use the front entrance. The back entrance is for police personnel only."
"There won't be any next time." Frank turned around, walked up the ramp, and left the office.
"What was he doing down there?" Ironside asked Reese.
"It looked to me like he was checking out the key-less entry. Maybe he was looking for a way around it."
"Eve, have it checked just in case he's tampered with it. And have the code changed."
"Yes, Chief," Whitfield responded. She left the office to carry out his orders.
"Chief, I think we should place officers outside your door for your protection," Carl suggested.
Ironside went back to his paperwork. "No, Carl. That was proof our man is already getting nervous. How much do you want to bet he doesn't file a complaint with the police department? He knows it won't go anywhere."
"But he could be planning to kill you. I heard he threatened to do so more than once."
"He's not going to try it here. If he knows anything at all about key-less entries, he'll know the one on the elevator is very sophisticated, and he'll not be able to get past it. No, Carl, when he makes the attempt, he'll lure me out of this office. Despite having threaten me in front of people, he doesn't want witnesses to a murder."
"You're the boss," Carl said.
"It'd be nice if everyone around here would remember that more often."
"So why did you call me up here? Is there something you want me to do?" Carl asked him.
"You and I are going to call on the employees at the bank where Frank Hunt staged his robbery. I've a hunch he's going to follow us. I want him to know that I'm investigating the murder of Zach Hill."
"You already told him that," Mark said.
"I want him to see it, Mark. I want him to start sweating. He'll know everything we know. I'm going to force him to make a move. He belongs in prison and I've every intention of seeing that he goes back there.
3
Lying on the bed watching television, Ed spent the last 2 hours surfing the channels on the television looking for news on the earthquakes in San Francisco. He felt guilty for being in New York when there was a possible crisis brewing in his beloved city. The chief probably needed his help, and he was here in New York on a vacation. All he could think about was the doomed relationship he had with Vivian. He loved her, but he couldn't see a future with her. She wasn't going to move to California, and he couldn't see himself moving to New York. How could they possibly work it out? Neither of them were willing to give in.
The door to the bedroom opened and Vivian walked in. "Ed, there is a call for you."
"The chief?" Ed asked.
Just like him. He receives a phone call and immediately he thinks it is his chief. Vivian just couldn't understand the hold Robert Ironside had over Ed Brown. Keeping the irritation out of her voice, Vivian answered, No, it's Captain Emerick."
"Vivian, I don't want to be pressured. If I'm to come to a decision to move to New York, it has to be my decision."
"He's not calling you to pressure you. He says he has a problem, and he wants to enlist your help."
Brown hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the phone. "Sergeant Brown."
"Ed, I thought you're on vacation. Are you always this formal?" Emerick asked.
"Habit, I guess," Ed said. "Vivian said you wanted my help with something?"
"Yes, I have a case that my detectives haven't been able to solve. I know you're only going to be here for a couple of weeks, but I'd appreciate it if you'd take a look at it and see if you could help them out. You, of course, would be in charge, and they'll assist you while you're here. When you go back to San Francisco, hopefully they'll have learned something and will be able to handle the case once you are gone."
Ed hadn't expected to work on his vacation. He couldn't help but wonder if this was something that had been arranged between Emerick and Vivian. "What kind of case is it?"
"It's a murder case, Ed. My detectives have not made any headway into the investigation.
"Well, I suppose I could take a look at it, but I'll have to discuss it with Vivian first."
"I already did. It took me quite a while to convince her to let me borrow you. She finally decided that it'd be a good experience of what she would face in the future when you come to work for us."
"All right, when did you want me to start?"
"Right away, if possible. I'm going to send you a New York police cruiser. It'll be at your disposal. After my drivers drop it off, please come directly to the police station."
"I'll be there," Brown told him. He hung up the phone and turned around to face Vivian. "He said this was all right with you."
She went to him and put her arms around his waist. "I told him you can't work any more than 8 hours a day. You're mine after that. At first, I was against it. The more I thought about it, it might give you an idea what your job would be here. It could help you to make your decision. Although, I admit I don't like giving up my time with you."
"Hopefully, all I'll have to do is point them in the right direction. It might not be a bad idea at that. You're right, it could help me decide whether I want to take the job. We have a little time before the police cruiser gets here. What would you like to do?"
Vivian pushed him down on the bed. "What do you think I would like to do?" She climbed on top of him, lowered her lips to him, and began kissing him. Vivian hoped that this would work. Otherwise, she'd have to find another way to manipulate him into moving to New York.
4
Mark drove the van through the streets of San Francisco. Ironside kept glancing out the back windows of the van. After a few minutes, Carl noticed the chief seemed to be occupied with something behind them.
"What's the matter, Chief? Do we have a tail?" Lieutenant Reese asked the detective.
"I hope so. I want Hunt to know I'm serious about investigating Zack's murder."
"Have you spotted any tail?" Carl asked.
"The same taxi has been behind us since we pulled away from headquarters," Mark answered for his boss.
Ironside grinned. "You're going to make a fine detective someday."
"And I have told you I'm going to be a lawyer."
"You'll change your mind," Ironside said with confidence.
Mark pulled the van in front of the bank and parked in the handicap parking spot. As he shut off the engine and got out of the van, Ironside was already in the lift and being lowered to the sidewalk.
"Where's the taxi?" Ironside asked.
"It stopped down the street, Chief," Carl informed him.
"Good, Mister Hunt knows we're here." Mark stepped behind his chair and wheeled his boss to the entrance of the bank. Carl opened the door, and Mark pushed the chief inside.
A gray-haired man who had to be close to retirement approached Chief Ironside. "Hello Chief, I was told you were coming in to speak with the employees who were working the day that Frank Hunt robbed the bank 15 years ago. I must warn you most of them are no longer with us. As you know, bank personnel turns over quite often."
"I'm aware of that," Ironside said. "How many employees are still here?"
"I'm still here, of course. My name, by the way is David Smothers. Our vice president, Dorothy Mullins is also still here. Other than us, everyone else has moved on. I can get you a list of the employees that were here that day, but I doubt the addresses would be much use to you."
"Don't worry about that. If they're still in San Francisco, we'll find them."
"All right then, why don't we talk in my office. Right this way." He led them past the tellers into an office in the back of the bank. Mark remained outside the man's office. After Smothers seated himself behind his desk, he asked, "Now, what can I do for you?"
"How much of what happened that day can you remember?" Ironside asked.
"Actually, Chief, I was in my office when it happened. I literally didn't even know about it until it was almost over."
"What can you tell me about Zack Hill?"
"Well, he was a good employee. At least, up until he helped the bank robbers. We had no reason to believe he'd be involved in anything like that. He was good at his job. However, I think our vice president, Dorothy Mullins, would be able to shed more light on it then I would. She was here at the time and was a teller on the line."
She was definitely someone Ironside wanted to speak to. "Can you ask her to come in here? I'd like to talk to her."
"Absolutely." He picked up the intercom and over the speaker system asked Dorothy Mullins to report to his office. Within a couple minutes, there was a knock on the door. "Come in, Dorothy."
The door opened and a woman in her mid 40s walked in. She smiled at Ironside. "Chief, I follow your cases in the paper and on television all the time."
"Sit down, Dorothy. Chief Ironside would like to speak with you."
She sat down in the only remaining chair in the office. "Well, if I can help you, I certainly will. What's this all about?"
"Mister Smothers tells us that you were on the teller line 15 years ago when Frank Hunt robbed the bank."
"That's right. I was. It's probably the most frightening thing I've ever experienced working in the financial business."
"Do you remember Zack Hill?" Ironside asked.
"Oh, absolutely. In fact, I dated him."
"Were you dating him at the time of the robbery?" Ironside inquired.
"Yes, I was. He was a very nice young man. I still find it hard to believe that he had anything to do with helping the bank robbers. He was always very gentle with me."
"Did he ever give you any idea that he was having financial problems?"
"Yes, he did. But, he was dealing with it."
"Were you with him at any time on the day of his murder?" Ironside asked.
The question made her very uncomfortable and it was visibly obvious.
"We're not accusing you of anything, Miss Mullins. We're just trying to find out exactly what happened that day" Carl said.
"We came to work together. He picked me up."
"Did he seem nervous?" Ironside asked her.
"I don't understand. This was 15 years ago. Why are you asking about it now? No one seemed to care about who killed Zack."
"The investigation has been reopened. Whatever help you can give us might help us solve his murder," Ironside explained.
"Well, okay then. Yes, he seemed very nervous that morning."
"Had he ever mentioned the name Frank Hunt?" Carl inquired.
"He never mentioned the last name. He did mention the name Frank several times."
"Did you ever meet him, Frank, that is?" Ironside asked.
"No, I never did. He talked about him often enough that I suggested to him to invite him to dinner. He was adamantly against it."
"Did he say anything to you at all after the bank was robbed?" Ironside continued his questioning.
"He mumbled something one time. I thought he said he was afraid for his life. When I questioned him about it, he denied that he said it," she answered.
"Miss Mullins, I know all these questions were asked of you years ago, but they're very important now. One of my detectives asked you if you had anything in your possession that belong to Zack Hill. I was told you said no. I will ask you that question again. Do you have anything in your possession or know of anything that he may have placed somewhere, possibly an insurance policy, in other words, knowledge that could've protected his life?"
"No I don't have anything that belonged to him," she said.
"Not a shoe box, a file, or a key to a safety deposit box?" Ironside pushed her to search her memory.
"No, I told you . . . " She stopped in mid-sentence and said nothing more.
"What is it? Do you remember something?"
"He did have a safety deposit box. I remember that because he gave me an envelope to put in it. But, no one would have paid on a safety deposit box after his death. The bank would have informed police. If there had been something in the box that could help you, I'm sure you would have been informed."
Ironside wasn't interested in a safety deposit box Zach may have had. She was right, the bank had closed it and informed the police. Nothing in it was any help in solving his murder. However, if he had given her something to put in her safety deposit box, the police may not have learned of it. "Did you, by any chance, remove anything from his deposit box for him?"
"I didn't have a key to his deposit box, Chief Ironside. I have no idea what he kept in it."
"All right, Miss Mullins. Did you have one at the time?"
"Why yes, I did. Still do, but I haven't been in it in years. I simply pay the rental yearly. It has my family heirlooms in there. There just isn't any reason for me to open it. I got it for safekeeping of those items."
"Did Zack have a key to that safety deposit box?" Ironside asked her.
"No, I never gave him a key to the box."
"Where did you keep that key?"
"In my top right-hand desk drawer."
"Was there a lock on that desk drawer?" Carl interrupted.
"No, no lock. What are you getting at?"
Ironside took back control of the conversation from Carl. "If there wasn't a lock on the drawer, then there's a chance that Zack may have taken the key and placed something in your safety deposit box."
"I don't think he knew where the key was. He never indicated at any time that he was interested in the box."
"I think it's worth checking," Ironside said.
"Well, all right, if you think so. The key is still in the top right-hand drawer of my desk."
Ironside turned his attention back to the bank president. "Mr. Smothers, would it be possible to excuse Miss Mullins for a couple hours? I would like to go get that key and have her check her safety deposit box."
"I think we could do without her for that long," Smothers agreed.
"I thank you for your time. Miss Mullins, you can ride with us. When we're done, we'll bring you back here."
The chief wheeled his chair for the door. Lieutenant Reese gestured for Dorothy Mullins to follow the detective. Reese was the last one out of the office. Mark stood up from the chair he was occupying when the chief exited the office. Stepping behind his wheelchair, he began pushing him toward the bank's front door.
After all of them were seated back in the van, Ironside asked Miss Mullins for her address. As soon as she gave it to him, he looked at his aide and said, "You got that, Mark?"
"I got it," the young man answered and turned the vehicle around to head for Mullins' apartment.