Chapter Sixteen
Out of Sorts
The Home of Trevor Bryce
The 15-year veteran of the NYPD answers the door, he stands at five foot 10, black hair with flecks of gray throughout, the faint smell of alcohol emanates from him. "Trevor Bryce, I'm Detective Eames, this is Detective Goren. We are investigating the murder of Paula Taylor." He stands aside welcoming them in. Alex leads the way with Bobby following close behind.
Bryce escorts them into the living room, which looks in total disarray. Picking up some pieces of the New York Times he points to a spot on the couch, "Sit, please." Bryce continues to stand.
"Detective could I get a glass of water?" Bobby asks.
"Sure," Bryce makes a move to lead the way.
"I can get it," Bobby says holding up his hand.
Bryce points the way, "Down the hall to the left is the kitchen, the glasses are over the sink." Bryce returns to the living room but continues to look toward the doorway, "Would you care for anything Detective?"
Alex shakes her head, "No thank you."
Bobby returns to the living room with a glass of water, he sets it down on the coffee table as Alex takes a seat on the couch. He stands directly behind her, clutching his leather case. Bryce points his finger in Alex's direction, "Go ahead ask your questions."
Alex begins the questioning, "Detective we need to confirm your whereabouts on Tuesday the 27th?"
"Are you sure you don't want a drink, cause I could certainly use one." Bobby and Alex simultaneously check the time, eleven o'clock in the morning. Bryce stands and fills a glass with two ice cubes and vodka, taking a swig.
Alex repeats her question, "Detective we need to confirm your whereabouts on Tuesday the 27th?"
"After my shift ended I went to visit my Mom, who lives with my sister," Bryce sits down in an easy chair across from Alex.
"Your shift ended at four, your sister says you didn't show up at her place until after seven, now I realize traffic can be a bear in this city but three hours to drive to the Bronx."
"Eames, you said?"
"Yes that's what I said."
Bryce moves forward in the chair, "My Dad worked out of the 9-1, for about ten years, your Dad," he wags his finger at her. "Is your Dad John Eames?"
Jesus get me out of here. Bobby thinks as he sighs.
"Yes he is," snapping her fingers, "Bryce, Bryce. Oh yes I remember, Stanley Bryce, they were partners for a short time," she says slightly elated.
Bryce takes another swig of his drink, smiling "Yes they were. I wonder if we ever met when we were kids."
Bobby expels a louder sigh; Alex turns to look, "Are you alright?"
Nodding his head, "So," Bobby says as he walks from behind the couch. "How long were you and Paula having an affair?" He sets his case on the table titling his head to catch Trevor's eyes. "Where's your wife?"
The silence that overtakes the room causes Bryce to fidget in his seat, "An affair? What does my wife have to do with all this, Detective…ah…?"
"It's Goren and no my Dad wasn't a cop," Bobby places his hand on the arm of the chair and leans down. "He barely held a job the last twenty years of his life. Where's your wife?"
Bryce slides back in the chair, "My wife? Why do you keep asking me about her? She's….she's out."
"Out, out where?"
"Shopping, she took the kids shopping."
Bobby straightens up and crosses his arms, "You know Trevor, when you lie you should try to make it more believable. It's Thursday at 11 o'clock in the morning and considering the fact that your kids are 8 and 12 they should be in school at this hour." Bobby leans down trying to make eye contact, "No….she's not out, she's gone, how long? Huh….when did she leave?"
Bryce stands as Bobby takes a step backward; Trevor walks to his left, taking in the size of the detective. "Look I told you she's out and that's what I want you to do, get out!" Bryce points to the door.
Bobby shakes his head, "No not yet. Not until you answer my question."
"Eames I think you'd better get control of your partner." Bryce moves the chair back.
Alex stands and positions herself to the side of the two men, "Bryce I suggest you answer his question."
"Go to hell the both of you, now I said it once and I'm not going to say it again, get out of my house!"
Alex steps back "Come on Bobby let's go."
"In a minute," he says as he comes within inches of Bryce. "Answer my question, you lying crock of shit. I asked you a question, answer it!"
"You had better listen to your partner, Goren." Bryce steps back, sticking his finger in Bobby's face. "I heard about you, you're…."
Bobby grabs his wrist and pulls him forward as Bryce lets out a howl.
"Bobby what are you….?" Alex takes a step back.
Continuing to hold his wrist, "Tell me, Bryce, what have you heard?" Bryce tries frantically to pull his arm out of Bobby's grasp. Bobby pulls him forward again. "I've heard some things about you, your gambling, stealing money from your sick wife, cheating on her, why because of the chemo you couldn't have sex so you went looking elsewhere, you degenerate son of a bitch, only interested in your own pleasures, not caring at all about anyone else, you selfish fuck!" Bobby abruptly releases his grasp and pushes him. Bryce falls into the chair. "You know what really amazes me is that she didn't kick your sorry ass out," he looks around the room. "She let you stay here, why?"
Bryce sits forward in the chair, just staring into space. "She doesn't know anything about the affair, does she? She left because of the gambling." Bobby leans down, but Bryce refuses to look in his direction. "She found out about the money that you were stealing from her. Started when she was in the hospital, didn't it? With all the medications that she was given, she gave you power of attorney and you had a field day."
Bryce looks up, nodding. He cries out, "Oh God what did I do?" He looks up and the two detectives are staring down at him. He shakes his head, sitting back in the chair. "She's gone, Mary Ellen is gone she…." He looks up as tears starts to well up in his eyes.
"Who are you crying for Trevor? Huh? Paula, your wife, your kids?" Bobby scoffs, "I bet you're crying for yourself," Bobby nods his head, "Right? You self-centered prick."
Sobbing he confesses, "I really love my wife. Paula wanted me to leave Mary Ellen and I wouldn't."
"Boy you must have had her fooled, believing you'd leave the bank account you married for her."
Bryce turns his head away from Bobby's stare. "I went there to break it off and she threatened to call her. When she went for her phone I hit her and when she fell she hit her head on the table." He sobs louder as he covers his face with his hands.
Bobby takes one arm, while Alex takes the other and they help Bryce to his feet. "You're under arrest Trevor," Alex says as she places the cuffs around his wrist, "For the murder of Paula Taylor."
The thirty-minute drive back to 1PP is quiet for the three passengers.
Trevor Bryce is processed and agrees, with his lawyer present, to make a full confession. Alex sits in the interrogation room as Trevor speaks.
Forty minutes later Bryce is escorted to his holding cell, Alex enters the observation room, "Where's your partner? I'm surprised he didn't want to be in there."
Alex's answer is a shrug of her shoulders, staring straight ahead.
"What's the problem, Eames?"
Shaking her head, "Nothing, nothing at all Captain." She turns to face her CO, "I think things are beginning to change for the better." She moves a piece of hair behind her ear. Chuckling, "Back to normal."
She finds him sitting in the visitor office. Staring into space, he never acknowledges her as she enters the room. "Bryce repeated that his wife found out about the money. She left the apartment while she and the kids moved to Long Island to stay with her parents." Sitting down next to him, "Did it make you feel better?"
"Huh?" he says with his head down.
"Speaking to Bryce that way," she places her hand top of his. He looks up and a weak smile crosses his face, "Did it feel good to let it out."
"I've been sitting here thinking, what it would have been like to stand face to face and man to man with my father. Most of what I said to Bryce I would have said to him." He sits back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. "Would it have changed who he turned into?" Bobby shrugs his shoulders. "I doubt it, but," he sits erect. "It would have me feel good."
They sit in silence for a moment, "When did you figure it out?" Bobby asks.
"When you grabbed his wrist, for a second I thought you were going to rip his arm out of its socket."
He frowns, "For a second and you didn't do anything?"
"No, I know you well enough that you would turn the physical action into a verbal one." She leans forward, "Beside the slime ball deserved it."
"Thanks for backing me up."
"You'd do it for me."
He starts to laugh, "Yeah, maybe one day you'll break the rules."
TBC