JEROME P=S WAS A TALL, CADAVEROUS BLACK MAN IN HIS early forties with a
perpetual cigarette hanging from his mouth. Frank watched admiringly as
the man methodically loaded the heavy cleaning equipment with a
practiced hand.
His blue jumpsuit announced that he was a senior technician with Metro.
He didn’t look at Frank, kept his eyes on his work. All around them in
the huge garage white vans were being similarly loaded. A couple of men
stared over at Frank but quickly returned to their work.
“Mr. Patterson said you had some questions?”
Frank Parked himself on the van’s front bumper. “A few.
You did a job at Walter Sullivan’s home in Middleton on August 30 of
this year.”
Pettis’s brow furrowed. “August? Hell, I do about four homes a day. I
don’t remember them cuz they aren’t that memorable.”
“This one took you all day. Big house out in Middleton.
Rogers and Budizinski were with you.”
Pettis smiled. “That’s right. Biggest goddamned house I’d.
ever seen and I’ve seen some bad places, man.”
Frank smiled back. “That’s the same thing I thought when I saw it.
Pettis straightened up, relit his cigarette. “Problem was all that
furniture. Had to move every damn piece, and some of that shit was
heavy, heavy like they don’t make no more.,@
“So you were there all day?” Frank hadn’t meant the question to come out
that way.
Pettis stiffened, sucked on his Camel and leaned against the door of the
van. “So how come the cops are interested in how the carpets were
cleaned?”
“Woman was murdered in the house. Apparently she mixed it up with some
burglars. Don’t you read the papers?”
“Just the sports. And you’re wondering if I’m one of them dudes?”
“Not right now. I’m just collecting information. Everybody who was near
that house recently interests me. I’ll probably talk to the mailman
next.”
“You’re funny for a cop. You think I killed her?”
“I think if you did, you’re @smart enough not to stick around here
waiting for me to ring your doorbell. These two men who were with you,
what can you tell me about them?”
Pettis finished his smoke and looked at Frank without answering. Frank
started to close his notebook.
“You want a lawyer, Jerome?”
“Do I need one?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned, but it’s not my call. I don’t plan on
pulling out my Miranda card if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Pettis finally looked at the concrete floor, crushed out his cigarette,
looked back at Frank. “Look, man, I’ve been with Mr. Patterson a long
time. Come to work every day, do my job, take my paycheck and go home.”
“Then it sounds like you have nothing to worry about.”
“Right. Look, I did some stuff a while back. Did some time. You can pull
it off your computers in five seconds. So I’m not gonna sit here and
bullshit you, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got four kids and no wife. I didn’t break into that house and I
didn’t do anything to that woman.”
“I believe you, Jerome. I’m a lot more interested in Rogers and
Budizinski.”
Pettis eyed the detective for several seconds. “Let’s take a walL” ‘
The two men left the garage and walked over to an ancient Buick as big
as a boat that had more rust than metal. Pettis got inside. Frank
followed.
“Big ears in the garage, you know?”
Frank nodded.
“Brian Rogers. Called him Slick cuz he was a good worker, picked up
things fast.”
“What’d he look like?”
“White guy about fifty, maybe older. Not too tall, five eight, maybe a
buck fifty. Talkative. Worked hard.”
“And Budizinski?” ‘
“Buddy. Everybody here has a nickname. I’m Ton. For skeletor4 you know.”
Frank smiled at that one. “He was a white guy too, a little bigger.
Maybe a little older than Slick.
He kept to himself. Did what he was told and nothing more.”
“Which one did the master bedroom?”
“We all did. We had to lift the bed and the bureau. They weighed a
couple tons each. Back still hurts.” Jerome reached in the rear seat and
pulled out a cooler. “No time for breakfast this morning”, he explained
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