made it obvious that he didn’t buy Garland Sutton’s prison conversion - a conversion that had been played up large in the newspapers in the weeks after his sons were killed and his daughter crippled. “She’s kept up the CS’s ties with the Dirty White Boys. Still running dope and guns.”
Victoria nodded, unsurprised. Thanks to Garland’s long stints in prison, the Confederate Syndicate had a close affiliation with the Dirty White Boys prison gang, an affiliation Garland had publicly foresworn after his last stay in Huntsville.
Birch continued. “Her boyfriend Axel Rankin’s a hang-around. He used to work out of a Syndicate dope house on Jefferson and Seventh. Meth, tar, weed, you name it. Place has been shut down for close to a year. Axel’s had three arrests for possession, but never enough weight for a felony bust. He was a small timer until he hooked up with Abby. She became the Syndicate’s top dog after her daddy decided that religion paid better than dealing dope. Kind of impressive when you consider how outlaw bikers treat their women,” he shrugged, “But Abby was one hard little girl.”
Victoria flipped the file closed. “So, Axel Rankin is the most logical suspect,” she said, stating the obvious. The husband/boyfriend/lover was always a prime suspect.
Birch nodded. “That’s where we’ve got to start anyhow.” He slid the second manila folder onto her desk. “Here’s Rankin’s sheet and mug shots.” He settled back and stuck the unlit cigarette between his lips.
Victoria opened the folder and scanned the booking photos. Axel had a broad forehead, a narrow jaw and a wispy mustache and goatee. There was a close-up of a black swastika that was tattooed across his Adam’s apple. She flipped through additional photos, more close-ups of tattoos, arms, chest and stomach, until she found his rap sheet. Lots of traffic violations and the three possession busts Jack had mentioned. Typical white trash biker. None of his arrests had earned him more than a few months in the county jail, but the murder of Abby Sutton would definitely push him into the big leagues.
She looked up at Jack again. “You think Axel is the type to kill his girlfriend?”
Jack shrugged. “Everybody’s that type, just need a good enough reason.” Typical cop cynicism.
“Think you can run Axel down?”
“We’re trying, but Axel has pulled a Houdini. One of his buddies is a snitch for the vice detectives. His girlfriend works the stroll on Harry Hines. I ran him down last night doing the same old thing, getting drunk while the girlfriend hustled. He says Axel took a bus to Los Angeles a few days ago. Right about the time Abby was murdered.”
“Axel has family out there?”
“Everyone but Axel and his older brother, Caesar, live right around there.”
“Where’s his brother?” Victoria wasn’t above putting a little pressure on Axel by going after his brother. She knew she couldn’t count on any help from the LA cops. They had way too many murderers of their own to look for a fugitive out of Texas.
“Serving twenty-to-life in Huntsville. He’s a top tier Dirty White Boy, so don’t go looking for any help there. He’s right where he wants to be.” The Dirty White Boys were run from inside the walls of Huntsville State Prison, though their reach extended far beyond the perimeter fences and barbed wire. If you hoped to become a shot caller, a life sentence was almost a prerequisite.
“Great.” Victoria said. Any further discussion on the topic was prevented by the buzzing of her desk phone. She hit the speaker button.
“A Laroy Hockley is here, Mrs. Justice,” the office receptionist told her.
Victoria grimaced. What the hell was Laroy doing here? There was only one way to find out.
“Send him back, please,” Victoria said and broke the connection. She fished her cell phone out of her purse, pulled up the microphone app and hit record before placing it on the near corner of her desk. She
Victoria nodded, unsurprised. Thanks to Garland’s long stints in prison, the Confederate Syndicate had a close affiliation with the Dirty White Boys prison gang, an affiliation Garland had publicly foresworn after his last stay in Huntsville.
Birch continued. “Her boyfriend Axel Rankin’s a hang-around. He used to work out of a Syndicate dope house on Jefferson and Seventh. Meth, tar, weed, you name it. Place has been shut down for close to a year. Axel’s had three arrests for possession, but never enough weight for a felony bust. He was a small timer until he hooked up with Abby. She became the Syndicate’s top dog after her daddy decided that religion paid better than dealing dope. Kind of impressive when you consider how outlaw bikers treat their women,” he shrugged, “But Abby was one hard little girl.”
Victoria flipped the file closed. “So, Axel Rankin is the most logical suspect,” she said, stating the obvious. The husband/boyfriend/lover was always a prime suspect.
Birch nodded. “That’s where we’ve got to start anyhow.” He slid the second manila folder onto her desk. “Here’s Rankin’s sheet and mug shots.” He settled back and stuck the unlit cigarette between his lips.
Victoria opened the folder and scanned the booking photos. Axel had a broad forehead, a narrow jaw and a wispy mustache and goatee. There was a close-up of a black swastika that was tattooed across his Adam’s apple. She flipped through additional photos, more close-ups of tattoos, arms, chest and stomach, until she found his rap sheet. Lots of traffic violations and the three possession busts Jack had mentioned. Typical white trash biker. None of his arrests had earned him more than a few months in the county jail, but the murder of Abby Sutton would definitely push him into the big leagues.
She looked up at Jack again. “You think Axel is the type to kill his girlfriend?”
Jack shrugged. “Everybody’s that type, just need a good enough reason.” Typical cop cynicism.
“Think you can run Axel down?”
“We’re trying, but Axel has pulled a Houdini. One of his buddies is a snitch for the vice detectives. His girlfriend works the stroll on Harry Hines. I ran him down last night doing the same old thing, getting drunk while the girlfriend hustled. He says Axel took a bus to Los Angeles a few days ago. Right about the time Abby was murdered.”
“Axel has family out there?”
“Everyone but Axel and his older brother, Caesar, live right around there.”
“Where’s his brother?” Victoria wasn’t above putting a little pressure on Axel by going after his brother. She knew she couldn’t count on any help from the LA cops. They had way too many murderers of their own to look for a fugitive out of Texas.
“Serving twenty-to-life in Huntsville. He’s a top tier Dirty White Boy, so don’t go looking for any help there. He’s right where he wants to be.” The Dirty White Boys were run from inside the walls of Huntsville State Prison, though their reach extended far beyond the perimeter fences and barbed wire. If you hoped to become a shot caller, a life sentence was almost a prerequisite.
“Great.” Victoria said. Any further discussion on the topic was prevented by the buzzing of her desk phone. She hit the speaker button.
“A Laroy Hockley is here, Mrs. Justice,” the office receptionist told her.
Victoria grimaced. What the hell was Laroy doing here? There was only one way to find out.
“Send him back, please,” Victoria said and broke the connection. She fished her cell phone out of her purse, pulled up the microphone app and hit record before placing it on the near corner of her desk. She
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