Girl Undercover 1, 2 & 3: Three-Part Bundle Page 23

  “Really? Wow…”

  “Yeah, it was crazy.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to help her either. What a terrible person to do such a thing to a poor bum!”

  “That’s exactly what we were thinking, so we weren’t in a hurry.” Pete gazed at me with a deathly serious face now. “What she did to him clearly showed what a nasty person she was. Not that she deserved to die for it maybe, but it was what it was. We called 911 and reported what we’d seen as soon as we calmed down and found our phones. It’s her own fault that she died. If she’d treated that man with the respect any human being deserves, he would never have done anything to her. She really pushed his buttons.”

  I made myself have another sip of my beer. “So true. Wow… I can’t believe this wasn’t reported on the news.”

  “That’s because my friend and I didn’t want it to be known. In the end we felt sorry for her, so we both decided not to say anything to trash her name. She’d already paid with her life. I’m sure those who knew her realized she had it coming.”

  “Right. Good call.”

  “Hey, I’m getting another beer.” Pete held up his empty glass. Unlike me, he had emptied his glass in only a few minutes. There was a distinct drunken glow over his bland face now. He eyed my not even half finished one with his glassy, brown eyes. “Want another one?”

  “No, I’m good, thanks. Actually, I need to visit the ladies’ room. If I put my beer here, can you watch it for me?” I gave him a warm smile.

  “Sure. I’ll make sure no one touches that beer. I’ll guard it with my life.”

  I giggled at his dramatic statement that he followed up with a dramatic gesture. “Okay, great. Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

  I turned around and began pushing myself through the sweaty, drunken throng, having no intention of ever returning to my beer and Pete. Surely, in a few minutes, Pete would have forgotten all about me anyway. He was already laughing it up with another girl who stood close, I noted as I threw a quick glance back at him and his friends from the other end of the big, oval-shaped bar counter.

  I was beyond excited. So I’d been right then in suspecting Eve had been more responsible for her death than the media had made it seem… It would be nice if I could get a second account of the events just to be completely certain. Just in case Pete was one of those guys who loved to tell outlandish stories in a poor attempt to impress girls. It was possible. He had been pretty drunk after all and I didn’t know him. I briefly considered visiting the homeless guy but soon discarded that notion. It would be much too complicated and risky visiting the institution where he was kept in wait for his trial. Even if I got a chance to speak to him, I couldn’t lend much weight to whatever he had to say. Not if the guy was a druggie and mentally ill.

  Which left me with only one other choice—Lisa Huang, the girl who had been with Pete during the stabbing.

  Chapter 5

  As I walked toward the subway station, glad to be out of the big, crowded bar finally, I thought of how I could get Lisa to talk. It would surely be more complicated than getting Pete to talk. But when—or if—I did, I could count on her story being the most credible.

  The nature of Pete and her relationship had been unclear from the police report. It had only stated that they knew each other, but not how well. As I’d spoken to Pete himself now, I had gotten the feeling there might be more between them than just friendship and that he hadn’t wanted to admit that. My first thought had been that he acted like they were friends only because he wouldn’t mind hooking up with me. Another reason, though a less likely one, could be that he was in a serious relationship and wanted to keep his affair with Lisa secret to everyone. These days a man could still be married even though he didn’t wear a wedding ring.

  When the train had reached my station on the Upper West Side, I had yet to come up with a foolproof way to approach Lisa. Finally, I decided that I would just take a chance and head over to her apartment and ring her doorbell. I already knew that she lived in a brownstone in the West Eighties, so I probably wouldn’t have to worry about a doorman. It would only be she and me—and whoever else was at her house. Hopefully she was home alone and had no roommates.

  If she answered her door, I would pretend I was a detective working Eve Koch’s murder case, exactly like Ian had pretended to be an FBI agent to get rid of the NYPD in Belinda Jones’s high rise. I could easily claim more information had been found regarding the murder, so the case had been reopened—with new detectives working on it, me being one of them. As long as I acted as confidently as Ian had done with Belinda’s doorman and the newbie detective, showing her my badge, she’d surely let me in and I could ask her some questions.

  Being a woman was definitely to my advantage, I mused, making her more likely to buy my hoax. I just needed to make sure she didn’t take a close look at my badge or she’d instantly see it was an LAPD one. Actually, I needed her to barely look at it at all as the two badges were quite different. But unless she was the super confident type and demanded to scrutinize it, I doubted that she would. No one had ever asked to take a second look at my badge as I’d identified myself during calls, nor had I heard of that happening to any of my colleagues.

  I smiled to myself. If I showed my badge very quickly, it should work beautifully. After all, I knew exactly how a detective acted in a situation as the one I was about to put myself in, having visited people at their houses several times to ask questions.

  I rushed home to switch from the low-cut, snug top and tight skirt I was wearing to conservative slacks, a blouse and jacket. I also removed all my makeup and put on a brown wig to make myself look more like the person I really was—Gabi Longoria. I let the mole next to my mouth remain, however, and put on my red-framed glasses.

  If Lisa ever wondered about the policewoman who had questioned her tonight, she would remember a brunette with a distinct mole who wore glasses with a red frame.

  It took me several tries to get into her five-story brownstone, none of the tenants being willing to open for me and Lisa herself not answering her apartment buzzer. I only got in when someone left the building and let me come inside.

  I walked up to the third floor where she lived and rang her doorbell, not really expecting anyone to open since no one had buzzed me in. Pacing outside her door, I chewed on my lip. Okay, what do I do now? Just wait until she comes home?

  I soon decided that I would. It wasn’t like I had a better option. I climbed another floor and plopped down on the staircase at an angle that gave me a good view of her apartment door, hoping she hadn’t suddenly decided to go out of town or something. As I counted the minutes, I tried to cheer myself with the knowledge that at least no one else seemed to be living in her apartment. There had been only one name on the intercom downstairs—hers.

  Finally, almost two hours later, a small, Asian woman came up the stairs and entered the apartment. I assumed that was Lisa. I gave her ten minutes to do her thing and then I stood up, walking down to her floor. Taking a deep breath and standing tall, I knocked on her door with as much authority as I could muster.

  Soon I could hear her coming into the hallway. Her peephole darkened, telling me she was checking who was outside. Smart girl. Even though she lived in a safe neighborhood, it was after all nine thirty at night. One could never be too careful what with all the rapes that had taken place on the Upper West Side recently.

  Slowly, the door opened and we were face-to-face. She was even smaller than I had first assumed and had a curtain of shiny, black, thick hair that covered half her face. A thin silver ring adorned her nostril and her skin was so perfect you couldn’t see a pore. She brushed the hair aside and peered up at me. I was already prepared and flashed her my badge quickly before she could say anything.

  “Good evening, Ms. Huang,” I said in a deep voice to lend it credibility. “My name is Detective Jackson and I’m with the NYPD. I apologize for bothering you so
late, but there have been some developments in the case of Eve Koch’s murder and we need to ask you a few more questions. Detectives Amaro and Ingham who you met previously had to respond to another call, which is why I’m here tonight. May I come in?”

  “Um, sure.” Looking somewhat hesitant, Lisa stepped aside while opening the door fully. I walked into a messy, medium-sized living room that had too much furniture. A big, fluffy, white cat came up out of nowhere. It rubbed itself against my legs, making me nearly trip.

  Lisa was soon by my side, scooping up the cat in her arms and apologizing to me. She continued into the living room and sat at the edge of the green couch there, inviting me to take a seat as well.

  “Thank you,” I said and chose an upholstered armchair with floral fabric. “This shouldn’t take too long.” I pulled out a notepad and a pen from inside my jacket, placing both in my lap. I smiled at Lisa, who moved around uncomfortably where she sat perched at the edge of her couch, her hands neatly folded on her thighs.

  “We spoke to your friend Pete earlier today and found out that there were more to Ms. Koch’s murder,” I said and leaned forward, giving her a stern glance that usually got me what I wanted when I interrogated subjects. “Do you know what I’m talking about here?”

  She was instantly on her guard, letting me know I had definitely struck a nerve.

  “No, I don’t think I do,” she replied.

  “I think you know exactly what I mean, Lisa. You saw Eve kick that man’s cup too, didn’t you?”

  I could tell that she was pondering how to respond to my question, her slanted eyes darting back and forth in their sockets.

  “Lisa, it’s okay,” I said in a milder tone now. “Nothing will happen to you if you admit that Eve was not such a great person after all. That she screamed nasty things to the homeless man. Telling him he was a burden to society. This is what she did, right? Because your friend Pete isn’t a liar, is he?”

  She kept glancing down into her lap. “No, he is not.”

  “So you saw Eve abuse this homeless person as well then?”

  “Um, I think so.”

  “And because she was so horrible to this man you both weren’t in that much of a hurry to help her when he stabbed her?”

  Lisa looked up and met my gaze. “Did Pete tell you that?”

  “Yes, he did. He called the station today, telling us he had more to add to what happened in that alley. He wanted to come clean, make sure we knew the whole story. Do you know why Pete might do such a thing?”

  “No, I have absolutely no idea.”

  “Did Eve Koch kick the cup out of the homeless man’s hand?”

  Lisa suddenly stood up. “Excuse me, but I really, really need to go to the bathroom. Do you mind?”

  I did mind—I wanted her to answer all of my questions right away—but there wasn’t much I could do since she didn’t have to answer any at all if she didn’t want to. Telling her no would only make her suspicious and put her on the defensive. I needed her to be as compliant as possible. So I just smiled.

  “Of course not. Take your time.”

  She disappeared out of the living room and into a second hallway. Soon I heard a door close and lock. She took her sweet time, only returning more than five minutes later. I was playing with her friendly furball of a cat in the meantime, getting white cat hair all over my dark slacks. Lisa sauntered over to the couch and took a seat again.

  “I’m sorry I took a while,” she said and gave me a close-lipped smile. “Where were we? Oh, right, you asked me if that girl kicked the cup out of the homeless man’s hands. She did. She definitely did.” She huffed. “She was such a nasty person!”

  She was no longer looking nervous and insecure, but sat tall and held my gaze steadfastly instead. I instantly suspected that she hadn’t really needed to visit the bathroom; she had needed to speak to someone, find out what to say to me. Where else had this sudden confidence come from? I wondered if it had been Pete she’d spoken to. It must have been him. If not, who? Maybe someone from Adler? Wait, where did that come from? She didn’t speak to someone from Adler! I laughed inwardly at myself for thinking such crazy thoughts. Ian was really getting to me. No, if she’d spoken to anyone it had been Pete to make sure she didn’t say the wrong thing to the cops. The guy might have been drunk when I left him, but that was hours ago now. He could very well have returned home and easily have answered the phone if Lisa called him, sobered up enough to tell her about some chick he’d spoken to regarding the murder. Well, I would soon know.

  “How do you know Pete?” I asked.

  “We’ve been friends since college.”

  I leaned forward and bored my eyes into her. “Friends only?”

  She blinked a couple of times. “Um, it’s complicated.”

  Bingo. “What’s so complicated? Is he married and you guys are having an affair?”

  She gazed down into her lap again. “Something like that. He’s separated, but now he doesn’t know what to do any longer. His wife just told him she’s pregnant and that changes things for him. So we’ve decided to take a break. He needs some time to think about what to do.”

  Her defenses were down, so I decided to go for it, sure the answer could be but one. “Was he the one you just called so that you knew what to say about Eve Koch’s murder?”

  But instead of falling apart and admitting this to me, she just looked confused. “No, all I did was use the bathroom. I know it took some time, but that’s because I’m… having trouble with my stomach. I’m happy to show you my phone and you can see for yourself that I didn’t call anyone just now.”

  “That would be great.” Maybe she wasn’t as fragile as I’d had her pegged.

  She got to her feet and walked over to the deep hallway where her bathroom was. When she returned, she had a black purse in her hands. She stuck her hand into the purse and fished out an iPhone. Punching in a few numbers to unlock it, she handed it to me.

  “You know how to work an iPhone, right?” she asked.

  “I do.” I clicked open her phone log and scanned through the calls she had made today. No calls had taken place with anyone named Pete and she hadn’t been in touch with anyone at all via text either for the last hour. I handed her back the phone.

  “I apologize, but I needed to make sure. It’s important you tell me exactly what happened from the moment you guys spotted Eve and the homeless man who killed her. Please don’t hold anything back the way you did when my two colleagues interrogated you. We need to know the entire truth.”

  Lisa took a seat at the edge of the couch again and cleared her throat.

  “Pete and I were just on our way back to work after a late lunch at a restaurant a few blocks away when we spotted this blond girl talking to a bum in an alley. It was only when she kicked the cup out of his hand and started yelling that we stopped and really paid attention to the two of them. As he was crawling around on all fours trying to gather his money, she kept yelling at him what a burden on society he was and that he should get a job or die.” Lisa licked her lips. “She said all kinds of horrible things to him. We were both shocked, which may have been why we felt so paralyzed when he attacked. It just seemed like he wanted to make her stop talking to him like that.”

  “So you felt like she had it coming?”

  Lisa shrugged, looking helpless. “Sort of. I know that’s wrong, but that’s how we felt. We also felt guilty for not doing more to save her. For not trying harder to stop the bum. She treated him horribly, but she didn’t deserve to die because of it.”

  I patted Lisa’s knee. “Don’t feel guilty. According to the medical examiner’s report, several of her stab wounds could have instantly killed her. They still don’t know when exactly she died. The homeless man was clearly dangerous being armed with that large knife. You did the right thing not to intervene and instead call 911.”