Page 40 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

Find out what you can about the animal who did this. He’s on our list.

CHAPTER 26

Theo turned outto be a gifted documentarian. Even Kylie, who was bummed that our mission was taking a back seat to a bunch of ghosts on a godforsaken road in New Jersey, enjoyed watching him work the Manchester sisters. Not only did he guide them so that their stories unfolded organically, but he had a knack for coaxing little details out of them that made their already engaging testimony even more fascinating.

Carly had queued up five more locals who were ready for their fifteen minutes of fame, so by the time the production wrapped, it was too dark to interview Theo on the side of the road.

“No problem,” he said, still in charge. “There’s a restaurant about ten minutes away. I’m starving, and they have great shepherd’s pie.”

The crew drove home, Theo got on his bike, and we followed him to the Grasshopper, an Irish pub on Route 23. He was right about the shepherd’s pie. We waited until coffee and dessert before we got back to the business at hand.

“Your dad told us that the idea you took to the Hellmans came out of conversations you had with a man at the nursing home,” I said.

“Assisted living,” Theo said. “They hate it when you say ‘nursing home.’”

“Sorry,” I said. “What can you tell us about him?”

“His name is Martin Sheffield. Really nice guy, and supersmart. He used to be a biological researcher for one of the big drug companies. But he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s about a year ago, and the last time I looked at his chart he was at stage three.”

“What exactly is that?” I asked.

“Hisshort-termmemory is going. He can tell you things he did thirty years ago, but he can’t remember what he ate for breakfast. There are seven stages, and this is the point where it made sense for him to move to assisted living.”

“Who made that decision?”

“He did. He knew all the signs, so he hired a lawyer to pay his bills and made arrangements with a funeral home for when he dies. I told you he was smart.”

“You like him, don’t you,” Kylie said.

He looked at her wistfully. “I do. Some of the staff think he’s kind of antisocial, but I think he’s funny as hell. Not likestand-upcomedian funny. More dry, kind of deadpan, like Clint Eastwood. I remember the first day I met him. He was sitting by himself in the garden, so I sat down next to him, and he said, ‘You look a little young to be committed to this booby hatch.’ So I said, ‘You think everybody around here is crazy?’ He says, ‘Crazy, or boring as fuck. You don’t look like you’re either. What are you doing here?’

“So I said, ‘I’m a volunteer.’ And he goes, ‘If you’re looking for someone’s ass to wipe, you’ve come to the wrong old man. Try Baumgarten in roomone-fourteen.’ I said, ‘Ass wiping isn’t my thing. I’m more into filmmaking.’

“He gives me this long, slow look. Finally, he says, ‘So you’re an observer of life?’ I said, ‘Yes sir. If you’ve got a story to tell, tell it to me. Maybe one day I can turn it into a movie.’

“He cracked up laughing. He says, ‘I’ll bet you could make a movie out of the stories I could tell you. And wouldn’t that fuck with those assholes in Washington?’ So, I said, ‘Let’s fuck with them.’ And just like that, he goes, ‘You’re on. Let’s do it.’ Sure didn’t feel antisocial to me.

“I take out my phone so I can get him on video, and he says, ‘Put it away. They’re watching. I’ll just talk; you listen. Whatever you remember, you can write down when you get home. If you want to add some of your own shit, be my guest.’

“I said, ‘Fair enough. And if I sell it for a zillion dollars to Netflix, we’ll split it.’ He waves me off. He says he doesn’t need money. He doesn’t have any family, so I can keep the entire zillion for myself. I said, ‘Thanks. Where do you want to start?’

“He sits back in his chair and closes his eyes. I can tell he’s thinking, working hard to dredge it up. Finally, he says, ‘Let me tell you about Kappa Omega Delta. It’s a sorority I belong to.’”

“Sorority?” Kylie said. “Did he mean fraternity?”

“He said sorority. When you work at the Grove, you learn how to talk to people who have mental health issues. You have to let their mind go where it wants to go, and then respond in a way that shows them you’re interested in their story. If you start correcting them or asking questions that sound like you’refact-checking, they get defensive and shut down. You just have to listen patiently without interrupting.”

Kylie nodded. Listening patiently was not her forte.

“He said there were five of them. All men. They wanted to keep their identities secret, so they gave themselves female code names. They put five letters in a hat: A, B, C, D, and E. Mr. Sheffield picked D, and he decided he was going to be Denise. The others were Alice, Barbara, Carol, and Emily. Then he said, ‘You want to know what we did?’ I said, ‘Yes, sir.’

“And he leaned in, eyes wide open now, and he says in a real low voice, ‘We killed people. All over the world. For money. Lots of money.’”

“Say the name of the sorority again,” Kylie said.

“Kappa Omega Delta,” Theo said.

“K, O, D,” Kylie said. “Killers on demand.”

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