by C. M. Sutter
“Sure, I’ll call for it now.”
Chapter 14
It was noon by the time we’d returned to our office. Renz had updated Taft every half hour, Brandon’s body was taken to the medical examiner’s office, and the car was in the county crime lab’s garage and being processed from top to bottom.
We gathered again in the conference room, where everyone had a few minutes to report on the jobs they were assigned that morning. The mayor’s office didn’t know of any dignitaries coming to town for personal, political, or educational reasons. The art museum had nothing extraordinary on loan coming in or going out, and the jewelry stores didn’t have unusual amounts of diamonds being shipped in from Antwerp. Neither the casino nor any city banks were moving large sums of money, but worst of all, we didn’t know who killed Brandon.
I tapped my pen as I thought and then presented my idea. “What if we go back to where we caught sight of Brandon yesterday, check every store that has a camera, and see if we catch him or ourselves on the footage. If someone was following him before we were, we’d notice them following us, too, once he was in our custody.”
“Not a bad idea,” Renz said.
Maureen closed the folder in front of her. “As long as nobody has any leads to follow through on, I want half of you to contact the police departments in the jurisdictions where the crimes took place, find out if they’ve heard any local chatter from their confidential informants, and see if they’ve followed up on the restaurants where there’s homeless camps on the sidewalks and if they’ve spoken with the sanitation departments. Before I completely rule out the targeted killing of homeless people, I want to make sure the police followed through with talking to those sources. Renz, Jade, Kyle, and Charlotte, I want you four to hit every store on that street that has cameras to see if you can spot someone following Brandon and then yourselves.” Taft stood. “Let’s get busy. I’ll check with the sheriff’s office to see if they’ve made any progress, and then I want everyone back here at five o’clock for a wrap-up meeting.”
We headed out knowing full well that at least half the stores would be closed because it was Sunday, but we would do our best with the ones that were open and hope they had cameras facing the street. Unfortunately, we didn’t know where Brandon had spent that hour and a half between the time he left the underpass tent city and when I spotted him on the sidewalk. The only way to tell if he was being followed was if the same person was spotted behind him and then again behind us. If we did see someone, our tech department could use the facial-recognition software to see if there was a match in the criminal database.
“Too bad it’s Sunday,” I said and then waited for someone to ask why. Finally, Charlotte did.
“Okay, why is it too bad it’s Sunday other than the obvious reason we’d said earlier about stores being closed?”
“Because the bank is closed, too, and they would definitely have cameras outside, especially in front of the building where the armored trucks park.”
“Hmm… that’s a fact all right,” Kyle said. “They’d also have the best equipment, meaning we’d see the clearest images.”
I added my two cents. “Which would work the best with the facial rec software.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “What was the name of the bank, Renz?”
“Milwaukee First Bank.”
“Oh yeah.” I tapped the name into the search bar and waited. That name was obviously a branch of banks since five of them popped up in Milwaukee County. I located the one on Hemmer Street and tapped on the website. It showed the days and hours of operation, and as expected, they were closed on Sundays.
Renz called back to me. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find a number for somebody who will come down here, open the bank, and let us view their footage.”
Charlotte sighed. “Good luck with that.”
“Well, if you don’t try, you’ll never succeed.”
Renz chuckled from the driver’s seat. “I like that about her. She’s like a trained sniffing dog, but instead of sniffing for drugs, she sniffs for the bad guy.”
“Gotta sniff them out, partner.”
“Damn straight. Have you found a number yet?”
“Give me a minute, and I’ll let you know. I had success once with finding out who owned a hotel. I called him at home in the middle of the night because his night manager was rude and abrasive to me. He was shocked that I was able to track down his name and home number. Maybe I can do that with the bank president or somebody in an upper tier of management.” I continued searching my phone while Renz drove. After exhausting the bank’s website for a personal number, I moved on to the “who is” database and entered the name of the bank manager, assuming I would catch her at home easier than I would the bank president. I tapped the name Elizabeth Morrison and Milwaukee into our prepaid account and waited for the results that would give me her age, relatives, phone number, and address. The easy accessibility of that information was scary, yet it was all public record that anyone could access at the courthouse if they had the time and tenacity. This way was faster and easier. “Got it. Now let’s see if anyone answers the phone. I don’t know if the number they show is her cell or a landline.”
“Who are you trying to call?” Kyle asked.
“The bank manager. I figured she might be easier to reach than the bank president.” I waited. “Okay, it’s ringing.”
“Put it on Speakerphone,” Renz said.
I did that before someone picked up, then we waited as the phone rang on Elizabeth Morrison’s side.
“Hello.”
I wasn’t actually expecting anyone to answer and was taken aback but collected myself quickly. “Hello, is this Elizabeth Morrison?”
“Yes it is. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Yes, ma’am. This is SSA Jade Monroe from the FBI.”
“Is this some kind of a joke?”
“I assure you, ma’am, it isn’t. I have you on the line with three other agents, and we need your help.”
“You need my help? With what?”
I continued. “Ma’am, we need to access the footage from yesterday on your bank’s camera that faces Hemmer Street.”
“I’m sorry, but this sounds like a prank. I’m going to hang up.”
I held my phone against Renz’s right shoulder so he could add his two cents. “Mrs. Morrison, this is Senior Special Agent Lorenzo DeLeon, and I assure you this isn’t a prank. If you feel more comfortable about it, we can have a patrol unit pick you up. It’s imperative that we see yesterday’s footage.”
“I’d have to clear it with the bank president first. I can’t just waltz in there after hours and do whatever I like. I’d be fired immediately.”
“Ma’am, our supervisory agent can take care of all those details. We really don’t have time to wait. All she’d need is the president’s name and police units can track him down and explain to him as well what’s going on.”
“What actually is going on?”
“It’s a life-or-death matter, but because it is an active investigation, we can’t tell you anything more than that. Would you like a police escort? I can arrange for a unit to pick you up in five minutes.”
“Yes, I suppose, but somebody absolutely needs to contact the bank president, and I’ll try to reach him, too, during the drive.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll have a patrol unit at your door in five minutes.” Renz rattled off her address that I’d just written down and read it to her, and she acknowledged that it was correct. “Thank you, ma’am, and we’ll meet you in front of the bank in fifteen minutes.”
I clicked off the call, contacted Taft, and told her we would be viewing the bank’s footage within the hour but said she needed to explain our situation to the bank president. I gave her his name and number, and she said she’d take care of it immediately.
Chapter 15
Renz found street parking nearby, and we walked to the front doors of the bank. Within five minutes,
a patrol unit pulled up and double-parked with its lights flashing, and the officers climbed out. Elizabeth Morrison exited the back seat of the squad car and approached us, and with my badge in hand, I introduced her to our group. Kyle asked the officers to stick around the area but said it could be up to an hour before she would be back out.
I assured Elizabeth that Taft, our supervisor, had gotten through to the bank president and explained why we were there.
“It’s all fine, and he said he trusts you one hundred percent to help us with the camera footage.” I saw what looked like relief spread across her face.
Inside, Elizabeth walked us to the security office, where each camera had its own monitor. There were six in total, but all we needed to see were the two that faced the overpass and Hemmer Street. At that moment, the Hemmer Street footage from yesterday was the most important.
Elizabeth queued up the recording. “What time would you like it to begin?”
I thought about the time we’d returned to the underpass. “Let’s start at three o’clock. We already had our man in question at the downtown precinct by five, so between three and four forty-five is the time frame we need.”
“Sure, not a problem, Agent Monroe.” Elizabeth set the parameters and let the recording roll.
It took a good ten minutes before we spotted Brandon at the crosswalk. As soon as the light changed, he crossed the street and turned east on Hemmer.
“I wonder what he’s up to and where he’s been since Ray saw him. Brandon said he took the bus to the area, but from where, and why walk so far? There’s a bus stop on every other block.”
Kyle nodded. “Let’s see if we can figure that out.” He pointed at a man we had been watching for a few minutes. He always remained about a hundred feet behind Brandon. Other people entered and exited stores, passed him, crossed to the opposite side of the street, or fell farther back.
“That guy is walking lockstep with Brandon, but every time Brandon looks around, the guy turns his back to him or ducks into a store entryway. He has to be the one following him.”
“Let’s fast-forward to when we showed up on the scene. We’ll have copies of these recordings sent to our office anyway, and we can look at them later in closer detail. What time do you think we arrived and you parked, Renz?”
He checked his phone for the time he had called Taft. “I was on the phone with Maureen at ten minutes after four, and that’s when you bolted out of the car.”
“Okay, let’s start at four o’clock and see if that guy is still in the area.”
Luckily, the bank had two street-facing cameras, and both had wide-angle capabilities. From the bank, we were able to see people three blocks in either direction, although not well enough to identify anyone.
“There he is.” Charlotte pointed at a clothing store across the street. That same man was standing in front of it as if debating on going in. “Now, where is Brandon in relation to him?”
“Brandon was on our side of the street and a half block up, just ready to cross at the lights.”
The camera showed us parking, and about ninety seconds later, I bolted out of the car and began walking east. Renz was behind me within seconds.
Kyle laughed. “You seriously plugged the meter?”
Renz shrugged. “I didn’t want a ticket, and I told you, Monroe is like a tracking dog. I knew she was on top of it.”
I chuckled. “Okay, okay, let’s focus on the footage. There, the guy is on the move again, but check it out. As soon as I crossed to his side, he stopped and waited until I got ahead of him. He must have noticed that we were following Brandon.”
We watched his every movement, and he remained behind me at all times. When I crossed the street ahead of Brandon and started backtracking, the guy stopped and watched from his side of the street.
Kyle scratched his cheek while staring at the screen. “So he isn’t moving in because he sees what’s about to play out from across the street.”
We watched as Renz and I squeezed Brandon in, had verbal exchanges with him, then led him back in the direction we came from. At that point, the guy crossed to our side of the street but remained far enough behind us to go unnoticed. He watched as the squad car pulled up, Brandon was put in the back, and the car pulled away.
Renz let out a long breath and checked the time on the monitor. “Okay, we left the scene at quarter of five.”
I turned to Elizabeth. “We’re going to need this footage and the footage from the camera that faces the freeway overpass, both from yesterday. You can send the recordings to my email address.” I handed her my card. “We really appreciate your help, Mrs. Morrison, and I’m sure our supervisor will call in a personal thank-you to the bank president for your assistance.”
She nodded. “I’ll get the footage sent over to you right away.”
We thanked her, then Renz contacted the police unit, and they returned to the bank to take Elizabeth home.
We were back at the office by three o’clock and excited to get the image of that guy’s face to our tech department. If the man had a police record, he would pop up on facial rec, and we’d be able to find out everything we needed to know about him. He was tracking Brandon for a reason, and he was likely Brandon’s killer. We had to dig deeper into Brandon’s life, inform his family of his death, and find out who the mystery man was as soon as possible.
Once at my desk, I saw that the email had come in. I forwarded the video and the time to start watching it to our tech department. “Want to go with me?” I asked Renz.
“Downstairs to Tech?”
“Yep. We have to point out to them who they need to get the facial rec on, and hopefully, at some point in the video, they can get a straight-on view of him.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything kind of depends on identifying him anyway. We’ll watch the underpass video later, or I can forward it to one of the other agents to watch.”
I swatted the air. “That part of the case is ours to follow. Once we find out who the mystery guy is, everyone can jump on board to apprehend him. Chances are, if there are prints on the car, they might be his.”
“Speaking of that, I wonder if Forensics came up with anything.”
I opened our office door and tipped my head toward the stairs. “One problem at a time. Taft can delegate who checks into the car and who talks to the owner. We just need to identify that guy.”
I always opted for the stairs rather than the elevator if I had a choice. We spent a good amount of time sitting, whether that was at our desks, in a car, or on an airplane, and anytime I could be off my butt, I was happy. I bolted down the stairs and had already given our tech department a heads-up that we were on our way.
That Sunday, Betsy Johansson and Marty Trent were on board. We entered the seventy-degree room, and when I felt the goose bumps rise on my arms, I immediately grabbed a spare lab coat off the wall hook.
“Hey, guys,” I said, “you got my video, right?”
Betsy turned toward me. “Yep, and we’re at the three o’clock starting point like you suggested. All we need is to see who we’re looking for and then freeze the image when we get a good shot of him.” She rolled the video, and at the fifteen-minute spot, I pointed out the man who had been following Brandon. “So the guy wearing the blue windbreaker, jeans, and with the ear-length black hair?”
“That’s the guy. He stays on that side of the street and only crosses over once Renz and I have Brandon in custody. I recall seeing him look around on several occasions and directly at the bank after we handed off Brandon to the police. I’m sure you’ll get a direct face shot of him along the way.”
“Good enough. Want me to call you as soon as we find out something?”
“Absolutely, and if I’m not at my desk, try my cell.”
Renz and I headed up the stairs and passed Taft’s office on the way to ours. That time, she was at her desk when we walked by. She called out to us, and we turned back.
“Just an FYI,” she said. “The forensic
s lab just checked in. The prints they did collect belonged to Brandon Dalton and the car’s owner, but none of the other prints found were in the system.”
“Why were the owner’s prints on file?” Renz asked.
“He’s a guard at the women’s retention facility in New Berlin. He said that car wasn’t his everyday work car, but he and his wife did use it as a spare. Her prints were likely in there, too, but she isn’t on record anywhere.”
I shook my head. “So the killer was either gloved or doesn’t have an arrest record, and that would make the facial rec useless if he and the guy following Brandon are one and the same.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true. Tech is checking it out?”
“As we speak, and they’ll contact us as soon as they know something. We were going to dig deeper into Brandon Dalton, find out where he lives, and contact his next of kin.”
“Wasn’t there a cell phone on his person?”
“Nope. The killer must have taken it,” Renz said.
“Okay, keep me posted.”
Back at our desks, we pondered the fastest way to find out where Brandon lived. His driver’s license had never been updated after a move a year earlier, and different tenants lived at that location now.
“Okay, no phone and no current address. Tax returns, maybe?”
“We don’t have his social security number, and that address might be the same as the one on his driver’s license,” Renz said.
“Then how do we find his family? Maybe the ‘who is’ app?”
Renz disagreed. “No, that’s for businesspeople, but we could try the people search app.”
I frowned. “That information is always so outdated.”
“True, but they usually list other people with that same last name who might be related. It’s worth a try.”
I rolled my chair over to his desk. “Go for it, then.”
Renz logged on to the site, typed in Brandon’s name with his middle initial, R, and waited as the program gathered the results. “Here we go.” Renz pointed as one by one, the results popped up.
