Read Online House of the Rising Sun by Chuck Hustmyre - Free Book Online Page B

stood a uniformed lieutenant and a sergeant. Ray followed LaGrange as he stepped into the elevator. Neither of them spoke. On the first floor Ray followed LaGrange out the front door. They turned left. They crossed the street that ran between headquarters and the sheriff’s building, finally stopping near a Dumpster.
    Ray said, “Jimmy, what the hell’s wrong with you?”
    â€œMe?” LaGrange looked shocked. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
    â€œYou didn’t return my calls.”
    The detective glanced at his watch. “I figured you’d get the point.”
    â€œWhat point?”
    â€œI can’t be seen talking to you.”
    â€œI’m in a jam and I need some help.”
    â€œYou mean police help?”
    Ray nodded.
    â€œThen call a cop.” He turned back toward headquarters and started walking.
    Ray shouted after him, “You owe me, Jimmy.” LaGrange kept walking. Ray shouted louder. “You remember Vice?”
    LaGrange spun around and came back to Ray at a run. “Keep your voice down.”
    â€œI ask you for help and you just walk away,” Ray said. “It’s like I told you, you owe me.”
    â€œI’m sorry about what happened to you,” LaGrange said. “I feel bad, but it’s not my fault. I don’t owe you anything.”
    â€œThink again.” Ray leaned against the Dumpster. “They wanted every one of us.”
    Jimmy LaGrange looked around. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
    Ray sprang away from the Dumpster. “I don’t give a damn what you want to talk about.” The detective took a step back. Ray stepped closer. “Internal Affairs, the FBI, the U.S. Attorney’s Office—all of them tried to make a deal with me. They practically offered me a walk. All I had to do was testify against everybody in Vice. They were looking for racketeering charges. They wanted headlines, the kind of headlines that come with cops getting life sentences.”
    â€œRay, I appreciate what you did—”
    â€œYou appreciate it?” Ray spit out the words. “You don’t even know what I did.”
    LaGrange stared at him.
    â€œFitz, Conner, and Two-Gun made deals.” Ray could feel himself getting worked up. “Conner and Fitz got eighteen months. Two-Gun only got twelve months. But Sarge and I didn’t make any deals. I kept my mouth shut and did almost five years.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Ray, but I told you, it’s not my—”
    â€œSarge got a
hundred and twenty months
. That’s ten goddamn years. I get out and what do I hear? That you’re still a detective. Like nothing ever happened.”
    â€œI’m a detective in name only. They got me buried in the Crime Analysis Section, going over records, looking for crime patterns.”
    â€œYou know where they had me buried? Have you ever been to Terre Haute? You know how cold it gets in Indiana?”
    LaGrange shook his head.
    â€œNow I come back and say I need some help, and you treat me like some scumbag off the street.”
    LaGrange sagged. “I’m sorry. You surprised me is all. I got a new wife and a little girl, a three-year-old.” He fished his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it.
    Ray saw the picture holders and held up his hand. “I don’t want to see photos of your family. I told you I’m in a jam and need help.”
    LaGrange stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. “Sure, Ray.” He took a deep breath. “What do you need?”
    â€œThe Pete Messina murder.”
    â€œOh, shit.” LaGrange’s shoulders sunk. “I heard you were working for them.”
    â€œI needed a job.”
    â€œIs it true they got taken off for a lot of dough?”
    Ray nodded.
    â€œThe Eighth District report says it was an unsuccessful robbery, resulting in a homicide,” LaGrange said.
    â€œThat’s Tony Zello’s cover