Murder Has Consequences

3. A Beautiful Morning

A Beautiful Morning

Brooklyn, New York

Frankie Donovan stretched as he opened his eyes, but then he quickly shut them. The sun blaring through the window promised another beautiful day in Brooklyn. Despite that, Frankie made a note to shut the blinds. No sense in waking up too happy.

He turned towards the warm body beside him, ready to tease Kate into waking. But instead of Kate's crop of Irish-red hair, he found himself looking at Shawna. He had almost called her Kate. Mother of God. What a mistake that would have been.

Frankie leaned over, lifted the covers and ran an appreciative eye down the curve of Shawna's back to the round firmness of her ass. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek—the one on her face. “You want coffee?”

She popped up, a worried expression on her face. “What time is it?”

“Early, don’t worry.”

“What time?” Panic filled Shawna’s voice as she slipped her panties on.

“Six-thirty. You’ve got time.”

“Six-thirty? You sure?”

“I’m looking at the clock.”

Hearing that, she relaxed. “Sorry. I can’t afford to be late. Those assholes are looking for any excuse to fire me.”

“Tell them you were sleeping with Detective First Class Frankie Donovan, hero of Brooklyn. They’ll forgive you.”

“Or laugh in my face.”

“There’s always that possibility,” Frankie said, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Have I told you how sweet you are?”

“Not everyone thinks so.” Shawna leaned back and kissed him. “Sorry for being grumpy. I get nervous.”

Frankie rubbed the bottom of her back. “I can cure nervous.”

Shawna stood, slipping her panties off again. “No thanks on your cure, but since you’re in a generous mood, I’ll take coffee. I’m grabbing a quick shower.”

“Want a bagel?”

“Half of one,” she said, then, “You should consider getting a bigger apartment. Or at least one in a better neighborhood.”

“I like the company here. These are real people,” Frankie said, but the door to the bathroom was already closing.

Frankie went to the kitchen, started the coffee, cleaned up a few things, and popped a bagel into the toaster. The phone rang while he was pouring coffee. “Donovan.”

“Frankie, it’s Carol. You’ve got a body, or something like it, not far from home. Mazzetti’s on the way.”

“‘A body or something like it.’ What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I just repeat what I’m told,” Carol said.

“Give me the address.” Frankie scribbled it on a piece of paper he ripped from the front of the refrigerator. “Uh huh. Okay. I’m all over it.”

Shawna stood beside him, wrapped in a towel. She perked up as she looked at the address. Frankie sniffed her hair and kissed her. “Hate to do this, but I’ve got to go.”

“Was that a body-call?”

“Yeah, and it sounds like it could be a nasty one.”

She picked up her cell and started dialing, but Frankie grabbed her phone. “Whoa. No way. You’re not calling it in from here. I don’t mind giving you a heads up and helping out, but I can’t let you have a story because you were in my bed when I got the call.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” She took her phone back and started punching in the numbers. “I’m getting a camera crew.”

“I swear, Shawna, don’t do it. You get there before anyone else and I’ll crucify you.”

“So you won’t give me a break because I was here, but you’re willing to punish me and make me arrive last to the scene?”

Frankie shook his head, cursing. “Goddamnit.” He thought for a minute. “All right, here’s the deal. You can sit around the corner and wait till another station shows. As soon as you see them you can come in, but not a minute earlier. How’s that?”

Shawna smiled. “Fair as s**t. Thanks.” She kissed him and rubbed his ass.

“All right, maybe a few minutes earlier,” Frankie said, and rushed off. “Lock the door when you leave.”

It took Frankie twenty-five minutes to get to the scene because of traffic. Mazzetti was sitting on the stoop of a run-down apartment building, waiting for Frankie, smoke leaking from the side of his mouth. A couple of young kids were squeezing through a hole in a chain-link fence, leading in from a patch of broken concrete they’d made into a makeshift basketball court.

“You guys live here?” Frankie asked.

“Who wants to know?” the tallest one said.

Frankie showed him the badge. “We might have a stiff upstairs. Know anything about it?”

The short one bounced the ball from hand to hand, shaking his head. The older one said, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You didn’t answer me. You live here?”

They both said no almost at the same time.

“All right, let us know if you hear anything, will ya’? Help me out and I’ll get you a pass on something. Not drugs, but something.”

A light seemed to go off in their eyes. “You got a card?”

“I got two,” Frankie said, and pulled a couple out of his shirt pocket.

“Dressed a little fly for a cop,” the little guy said. First time, he’d spoken except for the ‘no.’

Frankie smiled. “You worry about getting me a lead. I got the rest covered.”

Little Guy bumped fists with Frankie. “Keep a line open, dude. I might call.”

“Do that,” Frankie said. He kicked a few bottles aside as he made his way to the steps. “Hey, Lou. How’s it going?”

“From here it’s fine.” He lifted his head toward the top of the building. “Up there, I don’t know.”

“They got no elevator?”

Lou struggled to stand, hand placed on his leg as he pushed up. “They got an elevator but it’s broken. How’s that for a place, huh?” He got to his feet with some effort, and walked toward the front door. “Tell you what, if it’s the super that’s dead, close the case. I don’t blame someone for killing him.”

“So what, you want me to carry you up?”

“I’d die first.”

“You’re right about that.” Frankie got to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. It seemed like an endless climb. “What floor?”

“Sixth, which might as well be the fiftieth. I ain’t gonna make it.”

Frankie crushed out his cigarette in the grass next to the sidewalk. No sense in making the climb more difficult. He grabbed Lou by the arm and started up the first flight, avoiding any contact with the railing. God knows what germs were on it.

A few remnants of green paint clung to the sides of the stair treads, but they were so worn in the middle there weren’t even any splinters. The walls were covered with graffiti, and though some was the same old raunchy stuff that had been decorating walls for decades, other parts were funny. Frankie found himself smiling. It wasn’t much different than his own building.

A few minutes later they hit the top of the steps, Mazzetti panting as if he were dying. “Donovan, we better solve this case quick, because I’m not coming back up here.”

Frankie nodded to the two uniforms standing in the hallway. About ten feet from them sat what appeared to be two large suitcases wrapped in plastic garbage bags. “What have we got?”

“Not sure yet,” one of them said. “One of the kids found this when they came out this morning. There’s a note on it that says ‘more bodies coming’ and there appears to be blood on it.”

Frankie made his way over, with Lou right behind him. “You didn’t open them?”

“Hell no. Could be a bomb in there. I called it in and they told me to wait for you.”

Mazzetti brushed a hand in the air. “Nobody’s setting off a bomb in this place.”

“Open it up,” Frankie said.

“Kate’s on her way,” Lou said. “We should wait for her.”

Just the mention of Kate's name made Frankie uncomfortable. She had resisted all of his attempts to get back together even though they hung out a lot and had gotten to be damn good friends. He looked around, then addressed one of the uniforms. “You talk to any neighbors yet?”

“No answer at three of them. The others swear they heard nothing.”

The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs got Frankie’s attention. “That you, Kate?”

“It’s me. Ask Mazzetti to come give me a hand.”

“You know what you can do with that hand,” Lou said. “Hurry and get up here.”

A few minutes later Kate and her team stood in front of the suitcases. She nodded to Donovan. “I see Shawna Pavic’s team got here early.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” he said.

Kate grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “I don’t get you, Donovan. You go out of your way to attract women, but you don’t let anyone in. If it’s just s*x you want, get a prostitute. You’re doing yourself and Shawna both an injustice by pretending.”

Frankie clenched his teeth. He wanted to say bullshit, and a few other things…but she was right. “That hit below the belt, Kate.”

“That’s where I aimed,” she said, and joined her crew.

Her cameraman took pictures, and another member of her team cut the plastic and pulled out the first suitcase. Tentative, he unzipped it.

“Whoa, we got a body,” he said and stepped back.

Kate moved in, studying it. “No head. No hands or feet.” She rolled the torso to the side. “And no male organ. I’m guessing the rest of him is in the other suitcase.”

Mazzetti covered his mouth with his handkerchief and stepped closer. “They cut his d**k off? The least they could have done was give us a whole body to work with.”

“If we don’t get lucky, this one will be a John Doe for a long time,” Frankie said.

“Unless there’s a wallet with a license stuffed up his ass,” Lou said.

Kate turned and glanced at Mazzetti. “You want to take a look?”

“That’s your department,” Lou said. “I just catch killers.”

Frankie’s phone rang and he answered it. “Donovan.”

“Frankie, it’s Donna. Mom needs you to come home.”

She sounded upset. Frankie stepped a few feet away. “What’s the matter? She sick?”

“No, she’s…just come home, all right.”

“Donna, I can’t just pick up and leave. I’m in the middle of a case. What’s going on?” Irritation started to set in, like it always did when Frankie spoke with his sisters, especially Donna.

He waited through a long silence, trying to listen to what Kate was telling Lou, then Donna spoke again, but through a lot of sobbing and tears. “It’s Dad, Frankie. He’s dead.”

Dead! “What happened? When?” Frankie put one hand to his head and began walking in circles. “Holy shit.”

“It happened this morning,” Donna said. Frankie could barely understand her through all the tears. “He had…a…heart attack.”

Frankie stopped walking and took a deep breath. “Okay, Donna. Okay, take it easy. I’ll be down as fast as I can. Is Mom okay? Are you okay?”

Her crying had gotten out of control. “Just get down here fast. Mom needs you…we all do.”

“I’m leaving right now. Take me about two, probably two and a half hours to get there. Tell Mom I’m on my way.”

He put the phone in his pocket and headed toward Mazzetti.

Lou must have sensed something was wrong. “Who was that? Everything okay?” When Frankie didn’t answer, Lou walked over to him. “Donovan, you okay?”

Frankie shook his head. “My dad died.”

“Goddamn. I’m sorry. s**t!” Lou grabbed hold of Frankie and hugged him. “Are you all right?”

Frankie nodded. “Tell Kate, will you? I gotta go.”

“Go on. Get out of here,” Lou said. “I got this covered.”

Frankie looked around the scene, as if there were something he was still supposed to do. “Yeah, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” He ran all the way down the steps, and to his car. He stopped at his apartment, grabbed a suit and other clothes, then bounded down the steps. Within fifteen minutes he was heading across the Verazzano Bridge on I-278. Soon he would connect with I-95 and be on his way south to Wilmington. The problem was, Frankie didn’t want to go home. Not even for a funeral.