“If you don’t open the door, I’ll call for backup and we’ll break in.”
After a moment, the door swung open.
Goodwin stood aside and motioned for Jesse to enter.
The house was furnished simply but tastefully. The main room featured overflowing floor-to-ceiling bookcases.
“What can I offer you,” Goodwin said.
“Nothing, thank you.”
They wandered into the living room. Goodwin was silent.
“I gather you’re refusing to speak with Rita Fiore.”
Goodwin looked away.
“Why?”
“I’m fearful,” Goodwin said.
“Of?”
“The mess.”
“What mess?”
“My mess. Oscar’s mess.”
“What’s Oscar’s mess?”
Goodwin didn’t say anything.
“What’s Oscar’s mess,” Jesse said again.
“I believe that Oscar was embezzling.”
“You mean over and above what you and he had been stealing together?”
“The money that we gathered together was used for honorable purposes.”
“Meaning?”
“We didn’t enrich ourselves with it, if that’s what you’re suggesting. We used it to right a great many wrongs.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“Oscar appears to have changed the game.”
“How so?”
“He stole.”
“From monies which had already been stolen.”
“Yes.”
“For his personal enrichment.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Excuse me?”
“How much did he steal.”
After several moments, Goodwin said, “I don’t really know. I only just discovered he had been doing it.”
“You mean you didn’t know his hand was in the till?”
“No.”
“How could you not have known?”
“I was lax in my supervision.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“I was deeply involved in the larger picture. The distribution of the funds. The day-to-day I left to Oscar.”
“You mean he was in charge of the proceeds.”
“He handled the accounts.”
“Jesus.”
“That complicates things, doesn’t it,” Goodwin said.
“That’s an understatement.”
Jesse stood.
“I’ll need to present this information to the district attorney,” he said.
“He betrayed me. After all I did for him, the son of a bitch betrayed me.”
Jesse walked to the door.
Goodwin walked with him.
When he opened it, he was instantly confronted by Oscar LaBrea, who had been waiting outside.
Oscar’s nose was still bandaged, and the skin around his eyes was discolored. He was holding a Beretta automatic pistol, which he leveled at Jesse.
He pushed his way inside and closed the door behind him.
“Your gun,” LaBrea said to Jesse.
Jesse removed his Colt from its holster.
“Drop it.”
He dropped it, the pistol chipping a section of the polished hardwood floor as it landed.
Oscar kicked it away.
He approached Jesse and patted him down. He found the .38-caliber Smith & Wesson, which Jesse kept in his jacket. He tossed it aside.
“Fool me twice,” Oscar said, a crooked grin appearing on his face.
He prodded Jesse hard in the back with the Beretta.
Jesse winced.
The three men moved toward the living room.
“Why are you talking to this bastard,” LaBrea said to Goodwin.
“He knows.”
“What does he know?”
“What you did.”
“What I did?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him you stole.”
“Why would you do a dumb thing like that?”
“I told him the truth.”
“Which I suppose you thought was noble.”
“I’m not going to argue with you anymore,” Goodwin said.
“It’s jail, isn’t it,” Oscar said to Jesse, waving the gun at him. “I’m going to be sent to jail. William’s gonna skate and I’ll get time.”
“Oscar, I think you should put the gun down and act rationally,” Goodwin said.
Oscar turned to him.
“Oh, you do, do you? Why did you tell him? So you could save your own skin?”
“You betrayed me, Oscar.”
“I betrayed you? I was getting by on a meter reader’s salary.”
“That’s what you were.”
“Nonsense. I was your partner. I did all of the heavy lifting. But I wasn’t living like you. Like this. On a commissioner’s salary.”
“That didn’t entitle you to steal.”
“It didn’t? You were stealing huge amounts. The only difference is that you were handing it out like you were some kind of pasha. It was you who set the example.”
“But not for myself.”
“Bullshit.”
Goodwin had become agitated. His voice was raised and excited.
“Bullshit?”
“You were set for life,” Oscar said. “You were raking it in hand over fist and then throwing it away. Money which could have set me for life.”
“You had no right to enrich yourself.”
“I had every right.”
“I’m through arguing with you.”
“It’s amazing how insensitive you are,” Oscar said. “Without me, none of it would have happened.”
He turned his pistol on Goodwin.
“You know what,” he said. “Fuck you, William. You and your phony piety.”
“Oh, please,” Goodwin said.
Oscar raised his pistol and fired, hitting Goodwin in the neck. Goodwin’s eyes widened. He reached for the wound, surprised to find blood spurting from it. He looked at the blood. He looked at Oscar. Then he collapsed.
As Oscar eyed Goodwin, Jesse leapt at him, hitting him in the small of his back and sending him flying.
The gun skittered away as Oscar fell forward, Jesse on top of him. He lifted Oscar’s head and slammed his face into the floor. Oscar screamed.
“Fool me twice, indeed,” Jesse said.
He grabbed a plastic restraint from his jacket and cuffed Oscar’s hands together behind him.
He then looked at Goodwin, who continued to bleed profusely from the gunshot wound in his neck.
Goodwin raised his head and looked at Jesse, opening his mouth as if to speak. But before he could say anything, he fell backward, dead before he hit the floor.
Jesse stood. He picked up Oscar’s pistol and gathered up his Colt and the Smith & Wesson.
Then he took out his cell phone and punched in the number for the station.
59
After Goodwin’s body had been removed, LaBrea apprehended, and the EMTs had left the scene, Jesse was alone in the house with Captain Healy.
“It won’t be pretty once the media gets wind of it,” Healy said.
“It won’t be,” Jesse said.
“How much did he get away with,” he said.
“LaBrea?”
“Yes.”
“Goodwin didn’t know.”
“How much did Goodwin take?”
“Also unknown.”
“But he felt justified.”
“Totally.”
“Self-righteous little bastard.”
“He was, wasn’t he?”
“Such an odd story,” Healy said.
“A sad one.”
“What about the woman, what’s her name again?”
“Ida Fearnley.”
“What’s in store for her?”
“Loneliness. Sadness. She’ll be devastated by Goodwin’s death.”
“But she was an accessory,” Healy said.
“To his crimes, yes.”
“Jail time?”
“That’ll be up to a jury.”
The two men headed for the door.
“You’d think it would have gotten someone’s attention,” Healy said.
“You’d think,” Jesse said. “But he’d been in charge for decades. He was an icon. The personification of bureaucratic autonomy. Who was going to challenge him?”