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Detective King had left for home some time ago. Hank didn’t care to have him in on this interview, anyway. He wanted to keep it civil, and King had a way of putting people on edge at the wrong time.
He swept together the reports and folders, tucked them into his briefcase, and left the quiet precinct.
When Hank arrived at the Shaft residence, Maria’s dark-green Mazda wasn’t there. The only vehicle in the driveway was a red Ford pickup. Rocky had been at work the last time Hank visited, but from the printouts, he knew the vehicle was Rocky’s.
Hank parked at the curb, grabbed his briefcase from the passenger seat, got out, and went to the pickup. There was a tarp in the back, neatly folded. There wasn’t much else there. A spare tire, a length of nylon rope, a red, metal toolbox. Hank wanted to lift the lid but that would constitute an illegal search. He wondered if the box held more than screwdrivers, wrenches, or pliers.
He turned, strode up the pathway, and rang the bell. Rocky Shaft answered the door after the second ring, stepped back, and beckoned him in.
“What’s this all about?” Shaft asked after they took a seat in the front room. “Did you find my brother’s killer?”
Hank snapped open his briefcase and laid it on the couch beside him. He looked at Shaft. “I’m afraid I have nothing conclusive to report, Mr. Shaft. We’re still looking into the evidence, but I have a few questions for you.”
Shaft sat back, frowned, and crossed his legs. “Fire away. And call me Rocky.”
“Rocky, this afternoon Michael Norton’s body was found. He was murdered.” Hank eyed the man closely, watching for his reaction.
Rocky’s eyes shot open and he stared at Hank, unblinking. “I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with that?” he asked at last, his eyes narrowing.
“You threatened to kill him,” Hank said.
Rocky sighed. “Yes, I did.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “I was angry because I think he killed my brother. But I didn’t mean it.”
“Perhaps not,” was all Hank said. He reached into his briefcase, removed a folder, and flipped it open. “Mr. Shaft … Rocky, on the evening of your brother’s murder, you left work at 7:00. Where did you go after that?”
“I came straight home.”
“And yet, when I called that evening, no one answered the phone.”
“I live in the basement apartment. I was down there and I wouldn’t have heard the telephone.”
“Were you alone all evening?”
“Yes, I was.” Rocky frowned. “Do you think I had something to do with my brother’s death?”
“I’m trying to fill in the blanks,” Hank said. He flipped over a page in the folder, studied it a moment, and asked, “Where were you today between the hours of 12:00 noon and 3:00 pm?”
“I was at work.” Rocky paused. “I went out for lunch at 12:30 and was back by 1:30.”
Hank pulled out a pen and made a note. “Where did you go?”
“Marcy’s Deli. Down the street from where I work at Richmond Distributing.”
Hank made another note. “Did anyone see you there?”
Rocky shrugged one shoulder and sat back. “It’s a busy place. I have no idea.”
“Do you have a receipt for the meal?”
Rocky’s face darkened and he spoke sharply. “I don’t keep the receipts.”
Hank nodded, made a note, and flipped another page. “Do you own a gun, Rocky?”
Rocky’s nostrils flared. “No.”
Now for the big question. “What can you tell me about the drug money heist you were involved in a few months ago?”
Rocky seemed genuinely bewildered. “What are you talking about?”
Hank waved the paper. “According to this, you, Werner, and Michael Norton, heisted some money from drug dealers.”
Rocky exploded from the chair. “I don’t know where you got that information, and I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was never involved in anything like that.”
“Relax, Mr. Shaft,” Hank said, waving toward the chair. “Sit down, please.”
Rocky folded his arms, his face reddening. “I don’t have to sit down. This interview is going nowhere, and you’re accusing me of things I had nothing to do with.”
Hank looked up at the angry man and spoke calmly. “I’m not accusing you. I’m asking about allegations others have made.”
“Do I need a lawyer?” Rocky asked, his thick brows in a tight line.
“Not unless you’re guilty of something.”
“The only thing I’m guilty of is trying to find out who killed my brother.” Rocky’s voice became shrill. “I don’t care who killed Norton. Frankly, I’m glad he’s dead, because I think he killed my brother, and you’re wasting my time.” He pointed toward the foyer. “This interview is over. Please leave.”
Hank packed up his briefcase, snapped it shut, and stood. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaft. I’ll be in touch with any developments.”
The door slammed behind Hank as he left the house. He wasn’t sure what he’d gotten from this interview, but one thing was certain, Rocky Shaft was a very angry man.
Chapter 33
DAY 4 - Thursday, 8:45 a.m.
ANNIE HAD HOPED a good night’s sleep would clear her mind and allow her to come up with something new, but after bustling Matty off to school and finishing her second cup of coffee, all she could do was sit at her desk and stare at her notes.
Jake wasn’t much help, either. He had wandered around the house like he was lost before heading downstairs for his morning workout. A
She asked him anyway, “Come up with anything?”
“Nope.”
A
“If it’s about the drug money, and Rocky Shaft is out to get it, he’s going to be careful for a while.”
A
“Could be anywhere. In a locker. Under somebody’s floorboards. Not likely in a bank account.”
“If Rocky Shaft is the killer, he knows.”
“He’s not go
“Perhaps,” A
“You might be right, but he’d have a hard time spending any of it. They’re watching him too closely.”
“There’s still a possibility of an affair going on between Maria and Rocky Shaft.”
“Sure,” Jake said. “But why kill Norton?”
“Because he found out about it?”
Jake drew his legs in and leaned forward. “So Rocky kills his brother, frames Norton, and then kills Norton too? Doesn’t sound logical. By killing Norton, it leaves an unsolved murder, and puts Rocky in the spotlight.”
A
Jake frowned. “Here’s another crazy scenario. Do you think it’s possible we’re looking at two separate and unrelated murders?”
A
“You’re probably right,” Jake said, and slouched back down.
“Don’t feel bad,” A
Jake yawned and said in an offhand ma
“Perhaps that’s not such a bad idea.”
“You think so?”
“Do we have anything better to do?”
Jake stood. “I’m game.”
“We’ll take my car,” A
A few minutes later, A