Before he could answer his own questions, his iPhone rang, startling Derek as the phone was still pressed to his ear.
“Derek Cole,” he answered.
“Now I thought you weren’t gonna have your phone turned.”
“Chief Ralph Fox,” Derek said, smiling. “I figured you’d miss me, but didn’t think you’d call me so soon.”
“I guess you’re like a toe fungus. Growing on me.”
“Not sure if that was a compliment.”
“Well, compliments and insults are determined by the person receiving them,” Ralph said.
“I’ll take it as a compliment then if it’s up to me.”
“So, whad did you find out so far?”
“I found Mix. He doesn’t look good at all. I spoke to his wife Michelle today and told her that I had no intentions of telling Ken O’Connell that I found them.”
“Not being a good employee,” Ralph said, his respect for Derek’s choice obvious in his tone.
“I’d fire me. Also spoke with Ken a minute ago. He told me that Lucietta may have been found murdered.”
“That man must be a man of influence.”
“He has plenty of resources,” Derek said.
“Well, Lucietta was murdered, right in his office and right in the middle of the day. No one saw or heard nothing. Looks like he got hit with his own Taser a couple of times before having a knife pushed through his neck. Coroner said it wasn’t a painful death, but it wasn’t quick, either.”
“I guess that leaves Straus and my clients on the ‘hit list.’”
“And Stanley Mix, but I am sensing that you are gonna be doing some protecting of him.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Derek said softly.
“Well, there are two things you need to know about the Lucietta murder. One, the killer or killers left another one of them notes. All the names of the deceased crossed out in Lucietta’s blood. Names not crossed out still include your client, his dad and mom, Stanley Mix, and the elusive Doctor William Straus.
“Now, the second and more interesting thing is what the NYPD detectives shared with your buddy, Captain Smith. Turns out that the finger printing guys didn’t find any prints that didn’t belong in the office. But, they did find something interesting.”
“And that would be?” Derek asked.
“The killer was wearing latex gloves. Now, I don’t know how familiar you may be with latex gloves, but some of them gloves have a powder sprinkled on ‘em to make ‘em easier to put on. I bet that you’ve seen that little puff of white when your doctor snaps his gloves on and tells you to bend over.”
“Funny. And, yes, I know about the powder.”
“Well, the killer was particularly interested in one picture that poor old Lucietta had hanging on his wall. Left glove prints and some of that aforementioned powder on the frame and glass.”
“What was the picture of?” Derek asked.
“It was a picture of Straus and Lucietta standing in front of Hilburn Psychiatric Hospital down on Long Island.”
“O’Connell told me that his resources had a good lead on where Straus might be. Unless my client’s resources include someone on the NYPD, I think he may be involved.”
“I think I lied to you when I said I had two things of importance,” Ralph said. “There’s one other thing. Captain Smith’s tech people did some more investigating on that call you made with Ken O’Connell. The tracers showed that his phone was around Chicago. But what they found after doing more digging is that while his cell phone was in Chicago, your call was automatically forwarded to another phone.”
“He is definitely involved if he is covering up his location,” Derek said. “Now I am even happier I lied to him about Mix. There’s something else I should share with you.”
“What we have here is a mutually beneficial relationship,” Ralph said.
“When I spoke with Thomas O’Connell yesterday, I could hear a storm in the background. He said it was just a passing storm, but when I checked the radar on my phone, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky where he is supposed to be.”
“Smells like we have a family affair going on here.”
“If what I am thinking is accurate, they hired me to track down Mix, Lucietta, and Straus and not to protect anyone. Now that Lucietta is dead, and they have a lead on Straus, all they are concerned about is me finding and securing Mix.”
“Yup,” Ralph responded. “I bet you feel like you were used.”
“Sure do. But now I am going to finish this thing.”
“Heading to Hilburn, are you?”
“Damn straight.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The NYPD detectives and officers searching for anything unusual on the Hilburn campus could find nothing. They walked every foot of the main hospital, entered every room that wasn’t locked, and inspected the outside of the main hospital looking for any signs that someone, or some people, could be hiding inside.
The steel reinforced door on the second floor was the only room that couldn’t be broken down or that the superintendent of the campus couldn’t locate a key for. The police pounded on the door and listened quietly for any noise coming from the other side of the steel door.
Nothing.
After two hours, the lead detective, Mark Smith, called off the investigation. He assigned a patrol car and two officers to “stay back and to watch the grounds closely for anything or anybody moving around.”
Workers, employed by one of the companies with offices on the Hilburn campus, began to filter out of their offices to see what the commotion was. After all the police cars had left, a few walked over to the patrol officers to see what was happening at the old hospital.
“Nothing to be concerned with,” an officer said dismissively. “But if you do see anyone trying to make access to this building, we need you to contact us right away.”
“Does this have anything to do with that doctor murdered yesterday?”