by C. M. Sutter
Frank and I headed to the precinct. It would be interesting to hear what Henry and Shawn had learned from the old girlfriends. Maybe they would find out something useful during Mitch’s interview.
We entered the bullpen and found Henry updating the night shift crew. From what the old girlfriends had told him and Shawn, neither had contact with Mitch anymore, and allegedly, neither was looking for a permanent relationship with him either. The most recent girlfriend said she was now engaged to a wonderful single man and the time she spent with Mitch was a mistake that she still regretted.
We were back to square one with Mitch looking guiltier as time went on, but we still didn’t know what his motive might have been.
I wrinkled my brow at Frank as I thought. “Didn’t he say his kids were arriving today?”
“He sure did, and his phone is in the jail’s lockbox. Let’s go see if his kids’ numbers are on it.”
We were on our way downstairs to interview Mitch, anyway, and stopped to have a word with Bill.
“Hey, Bill, we need a look at Mr. Blass’s belongings.”
“Sure thing, Jesse.” Bill opened the lockbox that contained Mitch’s wallet, phone, keys, and change. His wristwatch was also inside.
I reached for the phone. “Let’s see if it’s password or thumbprint protected.” I pressed the button on the side, and the home screen came to life. “Old school, huh?”
Frank chuckled. “He probably doesn’t know how to use the security features, but hey, that’s good for us.”
I scrolled through his contacts and realized he’d never mentioned his kids’ names.
“Damn it. I have no idea what their names are, only that he has a daughter and a son.” I gave the phone to Bill and asked him to keep it handy since I would be looking at it again after the interview.
We waited as Bill got Mitch situated in the first box. Five minutes later, we took our seats across the table from Mitch Blass and stared him down.
“What?” he snarled at us, clearly pissed that he had been followed and fooled.
“Did you really think we were going to fall for your bullshit story about selling those guns?” I grinned. “We’re cops and have been taught how to deal with people like you, and believe me, we’ve heard stories from all kinds of liars. You aren’t an exception, and you aren’t very bright either.” I turned to Frank. “Right, Mills?”
“That’s right. Don’t you watch cop shows on TV, dude? The suspect is always tailed.”
“Wow, you’re a real comedy team.”
I ignored his comment. “Aren’t your kids wondering where you are? You said they were coming home today.”
“They’ll be fine.”
I gave him a scowl. “Their mom has been murdered and their dad is MIA, and you say they’ll be fine? You’re a cold-hearted son of a bitch, Blass.”
“Lisa will figure it out. She’ll go to the neighbor’s house, and they’ll tell her about the police invading my privacy yesterday. She’ll put two and two together and find me.”
I cracked my knuckles and leaned back in my chair. “So on to a different topic. Did the gun fairy magically take those guns to that storage unit and hide them in that tote for you?”
“Stick it up your—”
I slammed my fist on the table. “Why did you lie to us? Is it because you really did kill your wife? Where are the knives? You need knives to field dress a deer. Everyone knows that, even me, and I’m not a hunter!”
He leaned across the table and locked eyes with me. “I’m done listening to your shit. I want an attorney.”
I stormed out with Frank on my heels.
“That man is infuriating,” I said as I paced the short hallway between the interrogation room and the jail wing. “Come on. I need to see his phone again.”
With the phone in my hand a second time, I scrolled through his recent calls and found the name Lisa. It had to be his daughter. I called from his phone to see what her greeting was when she picked up.
I pressed redial, hit Speakerphone, and waited. A female answered on the third ring.
“Finally! Where have you been, Dad? Skyler and I have been worried sick.”
“Lisa Blass?”
“Yes, who is this, and why do you have my dad’s phone?”
“This is Detective McCord from the homicide division of the Chicago PD. I need to speak to you and your brother. Are you at your dad’s house?”
“Yes, but—”
“Stay there. My partner and I are on our way.”
Chapter 29
It was nearly six thirty when we reached the Blass residence. I had the feeling we would be putting in another twelve-hour day by the time our interview wrapped up and we finally went home.
Frank parked curbside at the building, and we headed in. I gave Mitch’s door two good thumps, and a young man, appearing to be twenty at most, pulled it open.
“Skyler Blass?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m Skyler.”
A young lady—about the same age, give or take a year—pushed past him. “I’m Lisa, and I talked to one of you.”
“That was me, Detective McCord.”
We showed them our badges and asked to come in.
“Where’s our dad?” Lisa asked frantically.
“He’s in police custody. Why don’t both of you have a seat and take a breath? We need to ask you a few questions.”
They sat side by side on the couch. Frank took the only chair in the living room, and I grabbed a kitchen chair and placed it between the kids and Frank. I would do the talking, and Frank would do the writing. I assumed that since neither of them knew where Mitch was, they likely hadn’t spoken to him since before we searched the condo.
Once they were settled, I began. “First, I need the spelling of your names and your ages with birth dates.”
They gave me the information, and it turned out that Lisa was twenty and Skyler was nineteen.
“Okay, where does your dad keep his rifles and shotgun?”
Skyler spoke up. “Under his bed. At least that’s where they’ve always been.”
I glanced at Frank. “And the field dressing knives for deer hunting that he mentioned having?”
“I’ll get them,” Lisa said. She was headed down the hallway but turned back. “Why do you want them?”
“For safekeeping. When we have an active investigation, we prefer it if no weapons remain in the home. People become overwhelmed with emotion and sometimes go off the deep end.”
“Should I get the guns too?”
“We’ll grab them before we leave.”
“Do we get a receipt or something to show you took them? I don’t want my dad getting mad.”
“Sure thing, Skyler, and your dad is the one who told us he had those weapons.”
“I guess that makes sense. How else would you know about them?”
Frank nodded. “Exactly.”
Lisa disappeared down the hallway and was back in under two minutes. “That’s weird.”
I gave her my full attention. “What is?”
“Dad always kept those knives on their closet shelf. The box is gone, and the guns aren’t under the bed either.”
“Is there a reason he would have put them somewhere else?”
Since the home had been thoroughly searched yesterday, we knew nothing was in the house, the garage, or in Mitch’s car.
They both shrugged. Skyler informed us of the storage facility but said he doubted his dad would have put anything of value in there.
“That space was just used for crap we don’t have room for here. Dad always said he was going to clear it out, but he hasn’t lifted a finger to do it as far as I know.”
“How long has he had that storage space?” Frank asked.
Skyler scratched his chin. “Since we moved here from Pilsen five years ago. The storage unit was close to that house, so he took all the overflow junk there. He’s still paying the monthly fee to store things that should have gone into a dumpster befor
e we moved.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t get the logic, or lack of.”
“A lot of people do that, and then they just forget about it,” Frank said. “You know, out of sight, out of mind.”
I got back to the questioning. “So, there’s no other place you can think of where he would have put those weapons?”
They both said no.
“Okay, I’ll check with him. In your opinion, how was your mom and dad’s relationship?”
We kept quiet and waited for their answers. We didn’t want to lead them into saying anything either negative or overly positive.
Skyler spoke up. “They seemed to get along like most parents do, including the typical arguments that are over with in ten minutes.”
“So nothing lately that seemed different or more intense?”
Tears welled up in Lisa’s eyes. “Do you think our dad killed our mom? Is that what you’re getting at?”
“Spouses always have to be checked out thoroughly, Lisa, so consider these standard questions.”
Lisa turned toward her brother. “They did argue about money. Dad was mad that mom decided to retire from the bookstore.”
Skyler huffed at his sister’s comment. “That was over a year ago.”
“I know, but since then, Dad is constantly complaining about their finances. That’s the only reason she got the job at MaxMart.” She gave me a quick glance. “She did it to shut him up.”
I wrinkled my brow. “We were told your mom was bored at home, so she decided to go back to work.”
Lisa snickered. “Hardly. She was just sick of Dad’s bitching.”
“Did either of them tell you about a large life insurance policy that was recently taken out on your mom?”
“I’ve never heard either of them mention it. With Dad complaining about the lack of money all the time, how could they afford that, and why would they bother?” Skyler asked.
I wondered that very thing myself.
“So is our dad under arrest?”
I turned to Lisa. “No, but he was uncooperative. That’s why we’re questioning him at the station. He isn’t being forthcoming, and it makes us wonder why. You would think he’d want your mother’s killer apprehended as soon as possible. As much as I hate to say it, your dad is only making himself look guilty.”
“Of murder?”
“I don’t know, Skyler, but definitely of something.”
“Can we see our mom?”
I stood and handed Lisa my card. “I’ll arrange it for tomorrow, and I’ll call you. Thanks for your help.”
We walked to the door, then Frank turned back. “Lock up behind us and stay safe.”
My head ached with questions. Three murders, each completely different, and as soon as we thought the first two might be at the hands of one killer who was targeting women, a man was brutally killed in his home.
“Spill.”
“You talking to me?” I asked.
Frank chuckled. “Unless there’s a crazed killer sitting in the back seat. Yeah, dummy, I’m talking to you.”
“Sorry. My head is about to explode.”
“So, where do we go from here? We haven’t gotten anywhere with the news broadcasts.”
“I think we need to go back to square one and start over. Those murders were committed by different people, just like most Chicago murders are. I wanted to solve Charlotte’s case as soon as possible for Steve’s sake, but now we have two more killings to figure out.”
“You can’t grasp at straws, partner. The murders will be solved, but it’s highly unlikely it’ll happen tonight.”
Chapter 30
Vic watched the recorded news bulletin for the umpteenth time while chugging down a beer. The homicide department of the Chicago police force had requested the public’s help in the murders of Charlotte Sanders and Jill Blass. Anyone who thought they’d seen something, or someone, behaving suspiciously on Saturday night between eleven and eleven thirty on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Drive was asked to contact the second district police station. The same went for information regarding the Jill Blass murder on Sunday night between nine thirty and ten p.m. in the parking lot of the MaxMart on East Forty-Seventh and South Cottage Grove. All tip-line callers could remain anonymous.
Hmm… I could really mess up their investigation even though they don’t have anything to begin with. I’ll call the tip line, say I was out walking my dog and saw a car circle the store’s parking lot several times before I turned the corner. I’ll make sure to give them the description, down to the color, of Jill’s husband’s car.
Satisfied with that idea, Vic blocked the number, called the tip line, and waited for someone to pick up.
“Chicago Police Department tip line, Detective Gaines speaking. May I have your name, please?”
“I thought I could stay anonymous. Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”
“Don’t hang up. You can absolutely remain anonymous. So, tell me, what do you have for us?”
“It’s about the MaxMart parking lot murder, and it may not be important at all, but here’s what I saw.”
Vic described the car and said it drove down the frontage road and circled MaxMart’s parking lot twice before Vic turned and lost sight of the vehicle.
“Can you give me a description of that car?”
“Sure, I’m a car buff and can easily identify most vehicles. It was a newer model white Nissan Sentra sedan, probably no more than five years old.”
“Did you happen to get a plate number?”
“Didn’t realize there would be the need to, but in hindsight, I wish I had looked. It only caught my attention because it passed me twice and was driving slower than it should have been. Sort of unnerved me. That’s all I have and wouldn’t have thought of it again except for the fact that I saw the news coverage about the murder. It must have happened within minutes of me walking by with my dog. Such a horrible tragedy.”
“Well, we sure do appreciate that information, and please call back if you think of anything more. I’ll give you a caller code so we can reference this call since you’re staying anonymous. It’s four-one-seven-three, and thank you for being a concerned citizen.”
Hearing the final comment from the detective, Vic hung up and cracked open another beer. It would be interesting to see how long it took the police to connect that car to Mitch Blass. He would be the fall guy for his wife’s death while Vic went on planning murder number four.
Chapter 31
We would pass along the information that we’d gotten from Lisa and Skyler Blass and let the night shift crew take the reins. I was tired and needed sleep. Frank and I entered the bullpen and plopped down in our chairs. They’d get a ten-minute update, then I was out of there.
Frank took the lead, and I was more than happy with that. I closed my eyes and listened as he explained what the Blass daughter and son had told us.
“According to them, their dad absolutely owns hunting and field dressing knives. Lisa went to get them from the closet shelf and said they were gone. My question is, why would someone hide something and then lie about it unless they’re guilty?”
I agreed, and so did the rest of our group.
“You may want to have a more aggressive chat with Mr. Blass,” Frank said.
“No can do, partner. He lawyered up, remember?”
“Then he can sit.” Frank jerked his head at Gaines. “Go downstairs and tell Blass he gets one call and it better be to his attorney. From what we learned from his kids, he’s been blatantly lying to us about owning knives. As of now, he’s going to have plenty of time to feel at home in our jail wing. We’ll explain everything to the kids tomorrow when they come to have a look at their mom before she’s temporarily put in cold storage.”
Chuck rose as if to leave. “Oh yeah, there was an interesting tip-line call that came in about fifteen minutes ago. The caller wanted to stay anonymous but said they were walking their dog Sunday night near MaxMart at the time in question and saw a vehicle on the fro
ntage road circle the lot several times and going slower than necessary.”
That caught my attention and instantly revived my sleepy mind. I thought about the store cameras that had been reviewed by our officers Sunday night. The street must have been out of the camera’s range, or possibly the images didn’t illuminate well enough at that distance for anyone to notice anything unusual. Nobody had mentioned seeing a vehicle pass by multiple times, but there was a chance that our tech department could enhance the footage.
“Did the caller give you a description of the vehicle and the person inside?”
“The vehicle yes, the driver no. No plate number either.”
“Go ahead with the description,” Frank said, clearly ready to jot it down.
“Sure. It was a white Nissan Sentra sedan, up to five years old, give or take. The caller said they knew cars well.”
I ripped through my notes from yesterday when we served the warrant on Mitch Blass. Officer Grant had given me a description of Mitch’s car including the color, make, model, and plate number. The caller hadn’t known the plate number, but everything else matched. I slapped my desk. “That description matches Blass’s car perfectly. That son of a bitch did kill his wife. Call MaxMart and have them email you that footage, then take it down to the tech department. I want to see what they can do to enhance the images as far out as that frontage road. I’ll wait.”
“Jesse, go home and get some rest. We’ve got this, and Blass is in lockup, anyway. There’s nowhere he can go. In the morning, we’ll review the footage as a team.”
I groaned but relented. Chuck was right, and they were more than capable of taking care of that task.
“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
Frank and I headed out. As wide-awake as I was, I needed to let our evening detectives do their job. I would be no good to anyone if my mind wasn’t working at its peak in the morning.
