A Cold Mind by David Lindsey

Author:David Lindsey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Series, Stuart Haydon, Houston, David Lindsey
Publisher: David Lindsey
Published: 2024-04-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

The four of them sat in Dystal's office, Mooney and Hirsch in straight backed metal chairs they had dragged in from the squad room. The conference was attracting some attention—glances from the other detectives, a speculative conversation at the coffee machine outside Dystal's office.

Each of them told his story: Haydon first, then Hirsch, and then Mooney, who had just finished. Dystal had put his size fourteens across the top of a pulled out drawer as usual, and the radio murmured on the filing cabinet. Hayden had listened carefully, his long legs crossed at the knee, his coat on, his tie knotted tightly. He hadn't taken a single note, he hadn't missed a single detail or implication. Hirsch, eating Certs, had taken notes closely as Mooney drank milk from a half pint paper carton. They were all quiet after Mooney finished.

Finally Dystal spoke. "Well, shit, boys, I don't know. So far we got something for the Health Department to look into, something for Vice to look into, something for Immigration to look into. Pretty thin soup for a homicide investigation."

"I guess you checked on the bird?" Mooney said to Haydon.

"He's alive," Haydon said.

Dystal said, "Leo, when you checked out Petra Torres you came up with nothing in criminal history, nothing from Immigration on illegal aliens, and nothing from the Torreses in the telephone book, right?"

"Right. Well, I'm still checking the telephone listings. There are five hundred and twenty-three Torreses listed. So far, a little over a hundred of them say they don't know anyone named Petra."

"You made a check on this Arturo Longoria who owns the house on Harbor Street?"

Hirsch nodded. "Nothing."

"You made a location check on the house and got nothing?" Hirsch nodded.

"This ol' boy's in the import business?"

"Right. He's kind of a wholesaler of all sorts of commodities.

I think whatever's going, he's selling."

"And this Guajardo woman says there haven't been any girls there in about a month?"

"She hasn't seen any."

Dystal looked questioningly at Haydon, who simply shook his head and continued to stare at the floor. The lieutenant turned to Mooney.

"Can you get any more out of this Duplissey gal? I mean, she's the one who knows all the scoop on that fancy house."

"Sure, I can pressure her, if that's what you want."

"Well, she seems to be the best we got." Then to Haydon, "How about this Guimaraes?"

“I’m waiting for something from NCIC. I've also got a query in to Sao Paulo and Interpol. There's no way of knowing how long all that will take."

"Too long," Dystal said,

Haydon switched his crossed legs. "Ed, Maureen said Steen was furnishing these Brazilians with 'the best the Sun Belt can offer.' Do you have any hunches?"

"No idea. This caliber of call girl is so far out on the edge of Vice's regular operations that we usually come across them only by accident. Just like now. It's unusual for them to be set up in an 'operation.' They're usually one-on-one, make their customers feel as though they're buying a secret night with a fashion model.

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