dontravis.com blog post #579
JOHN
JACOB KINSOLVER
And I pushed them hard. He sat
in my interview room more than once squirming under a barrage of questions. He
made a mistake early on by denying he carried a knife. One of the photos in
JJ’s files clearly showed a sheath holding a miniature hunting knife. In
addition, I located a couple of friends of his who confirmed he never left his
apartment without the knife… until a few weeks ago.
I went to a sporting store and
purchased a blade like the one in the photograph and took it to the medical
examiner who confirmed it could have been the murder weapon. That was enough to
get me a search warrant for Balderson’s apartment and car. It surprised me when
I found a knife in his bedroom… until I compared it with the photo. Different
knife. Harold was smart enough to make sure he had a knife after I asked him
about one.
When I called him on the fact
this was a different brand, he claimed he liked this one better and replaced
the old one. Where was the old one? First this answer and then another. None of
which checked out. It was probably at the bottom of the Rio Grande… providing
he could find a spot deep enough in the shallow river. A years-long drought had
severely reduced the waterflow in our famous river.
I don’t claim to be a skilled
interrogator, but I am a dogged one. I leaned on that kid so hard, trailed him
so doggedly, he just finally caved and admitted the whole thing.
Harold Balderson’s instincts
had been correct when he tried to scare Luther Standing away. John Jacob was
falling head-over-heels in love with the handsome Indian. Harold could also see
that Luther was slowly yielding to JJ’s kindness and attention and interest.
Balderson’s response to me
that he’d have gone for the Indian instead of his meal ticket was likely the
way it would have gone down, except Balderson went nuts when JJ finally
convinced him it was over. The kid watched from across the street and trailed
JJ up Indian alley. Realizing the man was going to look for Luther, Balderson lost
it completely, stabbing his former love in the liver before finishing him with
a thrust to the heart.
The enraged man then started
for the Last Spruce, intending to call out Luther, but his rival wasn’t there. Since
he didn’t know where Luther lived, Balderson was left to rage silently until the
moment passed. Recalling that I’d found JJ’s personal computer at his home
explained why Balderson hadn’t destroyed the photos and files. If he’d been a
tad smarter, he’d have broken into the house and gotten rid of the laptop.
The fact that Balderson followed
John Jacob into the alleyway made it a premeditated act, and that’s the way the
Assistant District Attorney indicted him.
****
After the excitement of
Balderson’s arrest passed, I found myself thinking of Luther Standing. Why? I
didn’t know… not really. But I’d questioned him as a suspect, so perhaps I owed
him an explanation. Besides, I needed to let him know he didn’t need to call me
each Monday any longer. He’d surprised me by doing exactly that in the two
Mondays that had elapsed since I gave him those instructions. Of course, I
could have just waited until Monday to give him the news, but I didn’t. He
answered his cell on the second ring.
“Luther, this is Dave Field. I
need to talk to you.”
“Yes, sir. Do I need to come down
to the station?”
“No, this isn’t official. How
about a cup of coffee?”
“Sure, Detective. Whatever you
say.”
After my shift that day, I
picked him up at his apartment and drove to a nearby Shooting Star. Coffee had
just become dinner.
As I glanced at him sitting
across from me in one of the Star’s high-back booths that gives a sense of
privacy, his looks grabbed me again. I’ve seen plenty of handsome men—movie star
handsome men—but never one that just grabbed my attention and held it. Until
this one. All of a sudden, I understood how John Jacob Kinsolver felt about
him. The other kids… no, but this one? Yeah, I could see it.
“What’s up, Detective?” he
asked, in his low, rumbling voice.
“First off, my name’s Dave.”
“Dave,” he repeated dutifully.
“And I thought it only fair to
let you know that Harold Balderson confessed to killing M. Kinsolver. I suspect
that’s not much of a surprise to you, but what you don’t know it that after he
did that, he came looking for you at the bar. Aimed to do you the same favor.”
Luther’s black eyes stared
into my grey ones. “Damn.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t know where
you lived.”
Luther pursed his lips and
nodded. “Maybe he was the lucky one.”
“I dunno. Do you have a
knife?”
He shook his head. “No. Sure
wish Mr. Kinsolver had been lucky.”
“You’d be with him if he had
been?” Don’t know why I asked that, it just slipped out.
“Probably. He was a good man.”
“I guess he was your kind of
guy.” Dunno where that came from either.
Luther’s lips firmed for a
moment before relaxing again. “Understand one thing, Detective—”
“Dave.”
“—Detective Field. He came
looking for me, not the other way around.” Luther visibly relaxed. “I dunno,
maybe he was my kinda guy. A decent one. Haven’t been with many men, but I
guess the others were a lot like him.”
“Others?”
“One, actually. A friend—a
counselor—who pulled me out of the clutches of alcohol. I guess I thought I
owed him.
I allowed my confusion to
show. “The first time I laid eyes on you was in a bar with a woman draped all
over you.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Which
one you asking about?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Okay, first off, I like
women. Second question: I wasn’t an alcoholic, but I was heading that way.
Freddie, that the other guy, taught me that I was the boss, not Lady Alcohol.
Taught me how to drink responsibly. Recognize limits.”
He paused and eyed me frankly.
“And he also taught me a man can show you love too. Not like a dad or uncle,
but… well, you know.”
“What happened to him?”
“Gone. Car accident. Somebody
plowed into him head-on on the highway. I… I was supposed to be with him, but I
was late getting off work. He was coming to get me.”
“Sorry.”
“Guess that’s why John Jacob
got under my skin so easy. Reminded me of him. Not, not physically, but the way
he looked at things.” Luther gave me that disturbing, piercing eye look. “How
about you?”
“How about me, what?”
He shrugged and fed me my line
back to me. “Both of them.”
I slumped back in the chair
and uttered the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t have to call me every
Monday anymore.”
He licked his lips. “What if I
want to?”
“I… I guess that would be
okay. I like you, kid.”
“Kid? I’m twenty-one. How old
are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
A smile played across his
lips. “And I like you, old man.”
“How much?”
“Dunno. But we can go see.”
Possibilities opened up before
my eyes. “I’m an Albuquerque cop, you know.”
“So was John Jacob.”
I nodded. “At one time.” I
paused before adding, “I don’t have JJ’s kind of money.”
He seemed to swell, then his
look turned pitying. “If you think I simply sold myself to Mr. Kinsolver, then
we don’t have anything more to talk about.”
Something shot through me. It
shook me when I realized it was panic. “Sorry. Guess I was thinking of Harold
Balderson. That’s all there was in it for him.”
He moved to get out of the
booth. “If you think I’m like Harold, we damn sure don’t have anything to talk
about.”
I gripped his wrist. “That’s
not what I meant. This is all new to me. I don’t even know how I feel about
this. I mean….”
He flashed a smile that about
unhinged me. “Then why don’t we go find out how you feel. One time, one
experience isn’t gonna change your life.
He was wrong.
****
Seems to me like Luther
was a strong influence on the detective. The kid more or less solved the murder
case for him and then solved another mystery, as well. Really like to know what
went on after they left the Shooting Star Restaurent.
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