What Are You, Mick St. John? [ch. 7] PG13
Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2009 10:23 am
Beta: Much thanks and appreciation goes to my superbeta, Barb (Bank1115). She’s awesome. This story wouldn’t be where it is without her.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
What Are You, Mick St. John?—Chapter 7
Carl gazed appreciatively at the blonde behind the desk in the lobby of Kostan Industries as she quietly made her inquiry to the upstairs.
Finally she pressed the button to disconnect the call and turned back to him. “I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Kostan won’t be in for several hours.”
Carl frowned. “It’s five o’clock and he’s not coming in for hours?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Is that normal?”
The blonde nodded. “He deals with a lot of overseas clients.”
Carl sighed. “Fine. I’ll come back later. Thank you.” He flashed her a smile and walked away.
At nine o’clock, Carl entered the lobby of the Kostan Industries building for the second time that day. He was a little disappointed to find a redhead at the desk instead of the blonde, but she was a looker too, so who was he to complain?
Carl flashed his badge. “Lieutenant Carl Davis, LAPD. I need to speak to Mr. Kostan. I understand he should be here at this time?”
The redhead hesitated. “He’s here, but I believe he is in important meetings all evening. I heard him say on his way in that he was not to be disturbed.”
Carl casually tapped his badge on the counter. The redhead eyed it, biting her lip, but stood her ground. “Mr. Kostan said he was not to be disturbed.”
“I’m not planning on disturbing him. I just need to ask him a few questions.”
He saw the redhead’s jaw twitch slightly before she sighed loudly. “I’ll inquire if he can spare a moment for you, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you.”
“Marie, I have a police detective insisting on speaking with Mr. Kostan……Yes, I know; I told him that.” She glared slightly at Carl, who looked away in order to roll his eyes. He definitely preferred the blonde.
The redhead listened for another moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll tell him.” She pressed the disconnect button with a carefully manicured nail. “Mr. Kostan wonders if you might come back tomorrow evening at 8:30. He’d be happy to talk to you then.”
Carl’s jaw tightened. “Fine. Make sure I’m written into his appointment book—in ink.”
“Yes sir, thank you. Have a good evening,” the redhead said cheerfully.
Carl scowled in response. Before he left, he took note of the redhead’s first and last name from her nametag. Let’s find out if you have any unpaid parking tickets, Red…
***********************************************************************************************************************************************************
Carl was annoyed. The redhead’s record was spotless. Who doesn’t have any unpaid parking tickets?! He had just closed the search window, and opened another one when his phone rang.
“Davis,” he barked impatiently.
“Carl, it’s Josh.” He sounded a little annoyed.
“Oh, Josh, hey.” Carl nearly smacked himself in the forehead. With all the weird stuff going on in the investigation, he’d forgotten he was supposed to be keeping Josh updated.
“I haven’t heard from you since you came to Beth’s, and even then I was a little out of the loop. I’d like to know what’s going on.”
“Yeah, so would I.”
“Huh?”
“You’ll understand soon enough. Do you have some time now? I can come by your office and bring you up to speed.”
***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Fifteen minutes later, Carl was closing the door to Josh’s office firmly behind him. Josh looked at him expectantly from behind his desk.
Carl gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, man—I’ve been so caught up in this thing, I forgot I should be keeping you up to date.” With a huge sigh, he sat in the chair by Josh’s desk. “When you hear all I have to tell you, you’ll understand.”
Josh leaned forward, really curious now. “I’m all ears.”
“I’ll start from the beginning—the fingerprints. They weren’t where they should be, and were where they shouldn’t be.”
Josh raised an eyebrow.
“According to the forensics report, Mick’s prints weren’t anywhere on the door to the warehouse.”
“Okay, I guess that’s a little strange, but it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He could have worn gloves or used his sleeve or something. Though I don’t know why he’d be trying to hide his prints…”
“Precisely what I thought. But then I thought about Julia Stevens’s statement…”
Josh let out a bark of laughter. “What, that Mick jumped down from the rafters?”
“Exactly.”
Josh was silent for a moment. Then, he said, “So, what, you’re telling me that he did?”
“I can’t find any other explanation for finding his fingerprints on the latch to a window up on the roof.”
“Okay, so he got up there—”
“I don’t know how—there’s no way up from the outside, and he sure didn’t go up there from the inside like I did.”
Josh was silent again.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking—what the hell, right? Well, it gets weirder.”
Josh’s eyes widened.
“There was another set of prints on that window latch. And they matched a set we found on the inside of the door to the warehouse.”
Josh held up a hand. “So what, you’re telling me that not only did St. John show up in that warehouse via the roof, but some other guy did too?!”
“Apparently.”
“But who? Beth didn’t mention anyone else being there.”
Carl shook his head. “Unless she didn’t know…or is lying,” he added more softly.
Josh grimaced. “At this point, I don’t know what to think. She’s shutting me out.”
Carl didn’t know what to say to that, so he continued. “And then there’s the blood…”
Josh looked tired. “Yeah, that you thought might be Mick’s?”
“Yeah, given Julia Steven’s statement that Lee Jay shot him…”
“—A statement which now seems a lot more plausible, given the fingerprints…” Josh nodded slowly.
“Exactly. But my guy in the lab, Sam, said it didn’t register as either human or animal blood.”
Josh blinked. “So what was it then? Synthetic?”
“That’s what I thought, but no—it’s all organic, with traces of silver, of all things. I took it to BioAnalysis for DNA sequencing.”
“And?”
“That’s why I got the sample from Mick, to compare. I should get the results soon. If Maizie can match it to St. John....”
“…Then it’s his blood…and he’s, what, not human?! That’s impossible…Maybe there’s just something wrong with his blood that caused the initial test not to acknowledge it was human.”
Carl was quiet. “But then how do you explain all the other stuff? The fact that his fingerprints were on the roof…the fact that maybe he was shot, but appears to be fine…the fact that he disappeared before we showed up and—the other guy! Maybe he’s how Mick got home!”
Josh’s brows shot up. “Why not? Makes sense…”
“If that’s the case, I may have a lead on it. It’s pretty far-fetched, but so’s everything else so far in this case.”
“Well?”
“Some of my officers spotted a Ferrari parked in the area that night—a little out of place in that hood; the officer who was drooling over it remembered a partial plate…”
“Well, Ferraris aren’t too common, even in LA, and with a partial plate…you must know who it belongs to.”
“Yeah,” Carl snorted. “You won’t believe it, either—does the name Kostan ring any bells?”
“Kostan? Who—what—wait, Josef Kostan, the big time hedge fund trader?! Are you kidding me?!”
“Nope. I went by his office today to question him but got the runaround. I have an appointment for tomorrow evening, though. …He’d better not be ‘busy’ again.”
“Huh. I can’t see why he’d be involved, though.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I can find out tonight.” Just then Carl’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He flipped it open and read the message. “It’s a text from Maizie…she wants me to get over there ASAP. I guess the results are back.” He looked up at Josh.
“Go. And this time, CALL ME.”
“Will do.” Carl threw Josh one last look of trepidation before he left his office.
To be continued…
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
What Are You, Mick St. John?—Chapter 7
Carl gazed appreciatively at the blonde behind the desk in the lobby of Kostan Industries as she quietly made her inquiry to the upstairs.
Finally she pressed the button to disconnect the call and turned back to him. “I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Kostan won’t be in for several hours.”
Carl frowned. “It’s five o’clock and he’s not coming in for hours?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Is that normal?”
The blonde nodded. “He deals with a lot of overseas clients.”
Carl sighed. “Fine. I’ll come back later. Thank you.” He flashed her a smile and walked away.
At nine o’clock, Carl entered the lobby of the Kostan Industries building for the second time that day. He was a little disappointed to find a redhead at the desk instead of the blonde, but she was a looker too, so who was he to complain?
Carl flashed his badge. “Lieutenant Carl Davis, LAPD. I need to speak to Mr. Kostan. I understand he should be here at this time?”
The redhead hesitated. “He’s here, but I believe he is in important meetings all evening. I heard him say on his way in that he was not to be disturbed.”
Carl casually tapped his badge on the counter. The redhead eyed it, biting her lip, but stood her ground. “Mr. Kostan said he was not to be disturbed.”
“I’m not planning on disturbing him. I just need to ask him a few questions.”
He saw the redhead’s jaw twitch slightly before she sighed loudly. “I’ll inquire if he can spare a moment for you, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you.”
“Marie, I have a police detective insisting on speaking with Mr. Kostan……Yes, I know; I told him that.” She glared slightly at Carl, who looked away in order to roll his eyes. He definitely preferred the blonde.
The redhead listened for another moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll tell him.” She pressed the disconnect button with a carefully manicured nail. “Mr. Kostan wonders if you might come back tomorrow evening at 8:30. He’d be happy to talk to you then.”
Carl’s jaw tightened. “Fine. Make sure I’m written into his appointment book—in ink.”
“Yes sir, thank you. Have a good evening,” the redhead said cheerfully.
Carl scowled in response. Before he left, he took note of the redhead’s first and last name from her nametag. Let’s find out if you have any unpaid parking tickets, Red…
***********************************************************************************************************************************************************
Carl was annoyed. The redhead’s record was spotless. Who doesn’t have any unpaid parking tickets?! He had just closed the search window, and opened another one when his phone rang.
“Davis,” he barked impatiently.
“Carl, it’s Josh.” He sounded a little annoyed.
“Oh, Josh, hey.” Carl nearly smacked himself in the forehead. With all the weird stuff going on in the investigation, he’d forgotten he was supposed to be keeping Josh updated.
“I haven’t heard from you since you came to Beth’s, and even then I was a little out of the loop. I’d like to know what’s going on.”
“Yeah, so would I.”
“Huh?”
“You’ll understand soon enough. Do you have some time now? I can come by your office and bring you up to speed.”
***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Fifteen minutes later, Carl was closing the door to Josh’s office firmly behind him. Josh looked at him expectantly from behind his desk.
Carl gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, man—I’ve been so caught up in this thing, I forgot I should be keeping you up to date.” With a huge sigh, he sat in the chair by Josh’s desk. “When you hear all I have to tell you, you’ll understand.”
Josh leaned forward, really curious now. “I’m all ears.”
“I’ll start from the beginning—the fingerprints. They weren’t where they should be, and were where they shouldn’t be.”
Josh raised an eyebrow.
“According to the forensics report, Mick’s prints weren’t anywhere on the door to the warehouse.”
“Okay, I guess that’s a little strange, but it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He could have worn gloves or used his sleeve or something. Though I don’t know why he’d be trying to hide his prints…”
“Precisely what I thought. But then I thought about Julia Stevens’s statement…”
Josh let out a bark of laughter. “What, that Mick jumped down from the rafters?”
“Exactly.”
Josh was silent for a moment. Then, he said, “So, what, you’re telling me that he did?”
“I can’t find any other explanation for finding his fingerprints on the latch to a window up on the roof.”
“Okay, so he got up there—”
“I don’t know how—there’s no way up from the outside, and he sure didn’t go up there from the inside like I did.”
Josh was silent again.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking—what the hell, right? Well, it gets weirder.”
Josh’s eyes widened.
“There was another set of prints on that window latch. And they matched a set we found on the inside of the door to the warehouse.”
Josh held up a hand. “So what, you’re telling me that not only did St. John show up in that warehouse via the roof, but some other guy did too?!”
“Apparently.”
“But who? Beth didn’t mention anyone else being there.”
Carl shook his head. “Unless she didn’t know…or is lying,” he added more softly.
Josh grimaced. “At this point, I don’t know what to think. She’s shutting me out.”
Carl didn’t know what to say to that, so he continued. “And then there’s the blood…”
Josh looked tired. “Yeah, that you thought might be Mick’s?”
“Yeah, given Julia Steven’s statement that Lee Jay shot him…”
“—A statement which now seems a lot more plausible, given the fingerprints…” Josh nodded slowly.
“Exactly. But my guy in the lab, Sam, said it didn’t register as either human or animal blood.”
Josh blinked. “So what was it then? Synthetic?”
“That’s what I thought, but no—it’s all organic, with traces of silver, of all things. I took it to BioAnalysis for DNA sequencing.”
“And?”
“That’s why I got the sample from Mick, to compare. I should get the results soon. If Maizie can match it to St. John....”
“…Then it’s his blood…and he’s, what, not human?! That’s impossible…Maybe there’s just something wrong with his blood that caused the initial test not to acknowledge it was human.”
Carl was quiet. “But then how do you explain all the other stuff? The fact that his fingerprints were on the roof…the fact that maybe he was shot, but appears to be fine…the fact that he disappeared before we showed up and—the other guy! Maybe he’s how Mick got home!”
Josh’s brows shot up. “Why not? Makes sense…”
“If that’s the case, I may have a lead on it. It’s pretty far-fetched, but so’s everything else so far in this case.”
“Well?”
“Some of my officers spotted a Ferrari parked in the area that night—a little out of place in that hood; the officer who was drooling over it remembered a partial plate…”
“Well, Ferraris aren’t too common, even in LA, and with a partial plate…you must know who it belongs to.”
“Yeah,” Carl snorted. “You won’t believe it, either—does the name Kostan ring any bells?”
“Kostan? Who—what—wait, Josef Kostan, the big time hedge fund trader?! Are you kidding me?!”
“Nope. I went by his office today to question him but got the runaround. I have an appointment for tomorrow evening, though. …He’d better not be ‘busy’ again.”
“Huh. I can’t see why he’d be involved, though.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I can find out tonight.” Just then Carl’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He flipped it open and read the message. “It’s a text from Maizie…she wants me to get over there ASAP. I guess the results are back.” He looked up at Josh.
“Go. And this time, CALL ME.”
“Will do.” Carl threw Josh one last look of trepidation before he left his office.
To be continued…