Chapter 6: Detours
"Hey," Green said when he caught up with his partner. "About the other night-."
"No," Logan said. "Don't even try it. I overreacted. End of discussion."
Green looked at him. "What discussion, man? I'm sorry, but…if I'm the one who's supposed to apologize for something here, there it is. 'I'm sorry.' For what, damned if I know. But, it seems that some folks know more about what's going on with you than I do and as your partner, that-."
"Look, I said we're not talking about, meaning we're not talking about it. Got it? Now are you going with me to talk to Dahashi's co-workers or what?"
Green shook his head as he said, "Yeah, man. But it's my turn to drive."
---
Logan rubbed his eyes as he fought off the fatigue. He hadn't expected the earlier 'chat' to last as long as it did; hoping the older men would say their piece then leave Mike in peace. No such luck as the ''wise-guy, wise-ass' lecture went on over and over in his mind.
Mike knew what he had to do; didn't need to have Lennie or Joe tell him that. To have it so close to the surface exposed Mike's fear that perhaps he was reaching for more than he should have. Shaking off the frustration, he sought out Terrance Dahashi's supervisor.
"Mr. De Palma? Might I have a moment of your time?"
The tall balding man motioned him to an office. Logan caught Green's eye then followed, finding a seat as De Palma closed the door. "It's crap what happened to Terry, you know. You guys any closer to finding the jerks who did this?"
"We're still gathering information," Logan said. "So far, there was nothing unusual about the final few fares he had that night. Mrs. Webster told us about his morning 'check-ins?' Was that something you knew about or…."
De Palma nodded. "Lois Webster's a regular in our book. Remember that scumbag who was stalking bartenders in the borough? Lois was one of them. Terry took it upon himself to check in on her the mornings after because that's the kind of guy he is….was, I mean."
De Palma glanced back at a violin on top of a file cabinet in the corner. "He applied for a night manager position someplace close to home and was supposed to interview the morning… Terry was determined to give his kids everything he and his wife had wanted. Their eldest did quite well. Takes after her father, Teri does."
He rummaged through some papers on his desk; resettled a fallen framed photo of a young man; found a business card and handed it to Mike. "The Contemporary Arts Center," he said. "I thought he was finally getting back to his true talent." Off of Mike's look, De Palma said, "He was a musician by night," he said while pointing at the violin. "His first wife was a renowned artist. That's where the daughter learned her talent. Came here on a college scholarship, I want to say about seven years ago.
"How do you think Dahashi would have paid for the tuition if the scholarship wasn't available?" Logan asked jotting the information down.
De Palma shrugged. "If it wasn't for that visa nonsense, he'd have made a heckuva doctor - pediatrician, actually. Music was his love, medicine his calling. What do I get…or got, I mean? I've the loss of a great guy who would have given you the shirt off his back; all you had to do was ask."
Logan thought about that a moment. "Do you know if he applied for any medical jobs here, before coming to you?"
De Palma shook his head. "The visa thing screwed him up. I mean, he literally came here the moment he arrived because he needed to provide for his children."
"Then how did Mrs. Webster get the fortunate role of surrogate mother?"
Instead of answering, De Palma got up and held the door open for Logan. "No one here would have wanted him dead, Detective. We're a hodgepodge kind of family, all brought here by some wrong turn or detour in our original plans. Find the killer out there and get him off the streets before he goes after someone else."
----
"How'd you do?" Logan asked his partner as they headed back to the precinct.
Green shook his head. "Not a bad word said about the guy. Never raised his voice, never showed up late, never borrowed money from anyone… Reiger, one of the other cabbies, said that Dahashi was even the ideal neighbor. This isn't making things easier," Green said. "If this turns out to be a random killing-."
"Not if there were nine stab wounds, partner. Remember what Rodgers said? To stab that many times makes it personal." Logan mulled something over as they waited at a red light. "I want to go back to the crime scene."
"Why? I doubt there's anything-."
"Humor me, all right? Something doesn't… I want to check something out."
Green obliged, not certain why. "I still can't get over the family."
"Oh?" Logan said turning to face him. "Why's that, you think?"
Green shook his head again. "What, are you practicing to be Olivet or Skoda, now? I don't know, man. If the daughter was here before the rest of the family arrived… There's just quite a bit of an age difference between her and the other kids."
"De Palma mentioned something about a first wife," Logan suggested. "Maybe if she's alive…"
"Just what I love doing –sifting through paperwork," Green quipped.
As they approached the scene, Logan had him park a few blocks up. Green turned off the engine and both men watched the goings on down the street.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Ed asked, copying over some of Mike's notes into his notebook.
"I'll let you know when we see it."
Ed rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's so helpful."
Almost half an hour later, someone emerged from Mrs. Webster's house. They kept an eye on the young man as he crossed the street to walk to a nearby bus stop. The peculiar way the man had carried his arm didn't go unnoticed by either officer.
"Who's that?" Ed asked, a series of absurd questions running through his mind.
"That's what I'm wondering," Mike said in that-all-too-familiar tone Ed knew meant mischief and trouble later on.
"Hey, man, if Lieu were here, you wouldn't even think of doing whatever you're thinking of doing."
"Oh that's so helpful," Mike said mimicking Ed's earlier tone. "It's that whole parent-child assignment thing that gets me, that's all."
Ed gave him a look. "What? You think that guy's related to…Mrs. Webster or someone we haven't found yet?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I just know that I've seen a photo of that guy somewhere and it wasn't in Dahashi's wallet." Mike paused. "If Dahashi were one of your best cabbies and you learned he was applying for a job elsewhere, how'd you react?"
Ed's eyes narrowed. "None of the other guys made mention of Dahashi looking for another job, except Reiger. I'm sure that as his landlord, Reiger would know something like that."
"What if Dahashi didn't want someone to know about it, though?"
"Paperwork requires more paperwork, Mike – you know, apply for a job, list references?"
Mike snapped his fingers. "That's it! Let's go back to the precinct. Now."
"All right," Green said trying to stifle a chuckle. "Hope this detour was worth something, because I'm still confused."
Smiling, Mike said, "It's what you said before – paperwork."
----
Nina Cassady dropped an envelope on Ed's desk shortly after they got back to the precinct.
"What?" Mike said in a mock-hurting tone, "I don't get anything?"
"Only if Ed knows how to share," Nina said with a smile. With that, she went back to her desk to review information with her partner.
"I still think you two are-." Mike said.
"Don't go there, man. I won't bug you about what the lieu is bugging you about and you don't bug me about my so-called personal life."
Mike chuckled. "Deal."
A plain-wrapped box was dropped onto Mike's desk. "Ask and ye shall receive," he said. Smiling; Mike opened the box. Just as quickly, he frowned.
"A calendar? About time," Ed said then returned to read the information Nina provided.
Mike looked up as Van Buren closed the door to her office. "It's about time," he said as he fingered the piece of masking tape that had something scrawled on it: 'Le (T) Countdown.' He was anything but amused.
He looked up as Joe was walking past. "Hey, you said earlier that you had to go over to Children's Services, right?" The Italian nodded. "Mind if I go with you? We let the younger guys to the 'hard' work?"
"You're on," Joe said in an uncommitted tone
---
"So, the kids in your case are troubling you, too, eh?" Joe said.
"You could say that," Mike answered.
"I did." He turned to Mike and said, "If you tried that at the poker table, even Nora could clean you out. Want to come clean on what's ticking you off right now?"
Mike sighed. So many choices, so many outcomes, he thought. "Trying to narrow down suspects in Dahashi's murder for starters. At least we can eliminate it being a customer. The whole day's fares were conflict-free."
"And you're sure he didn't even have a 'first fare' the morning he was killed?"
"That's just it, Joe. As much as I like Mrs. Webster, something seems…off somehow. I want to know if she had any kids and if so, what happened to said baby boy."
Joe shook his head. "You could have just as easily called to look up the records for that."
"Yeah, I suppose so. But, part of me wants to check in on the cabby's other kids, you know? I need to know they're being looked after."
This time, Joe let out a low whistle. "You're asking for a higher calling now, Mike. I don't remember a Saint Michael as the patron of children."
"Hey, I want to make certain they're all right, rather than learn later on that they'll end up like-." Mike stopped himself, regretting taking his frustration over another situation out on Joe. "I'm sorry, man."
"No offense," Joe said nonplussed. "As much as I'm glad the Maguire kids are elsewhere, I feel for Renee. Poor girl trying to look out for two families at once and making them one… I wouldn't be surprised if her definition of dealing with the problem was to round the whole gang up and going someplace else entirely."
"What? No other family for her?"
Joe shook his head. "Same went for the Keith and Ashburn kids. No sign of dear old mom, either. But, from what Nina got, there's a good chance the mom's dead in a ditch somewhere. So, one little family gone for good, another one trying to hold on."
Mike pondered Joe's comments, wondering what family entanglements he wasn't seeing just yet himself. If he wasn't careful, Mike thought, he could be looking in the wrong direction completely.