Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set)

by Blake Banner

  “Could it have been Fernando, come back?”

  “That’s what I asked. The witness said it was possible, but he didn’t think so.”

  I sipped my beer. “You said there were three exceptions, Giorgio, Fernando and…?”

  “Cyril Browne, with an ‘e’. My understanding is that he was at the party, though just about none of the people who were there remembered him. Those who did varied from being sure they saw him, to thinking they might have seen him. Apparently he’s the kind of guy who sits in the corner and nobody knows he’s there.”

  I was surprised and my face said so. “And Cyril was one of Giorgio’s students?”

  “Yup, and apparently he was pretty good. But in class it was the same as at the party, nobody was ever sure if he was there or not. He never got involved, never spoke to anybody, shy, insecure, whatever. So he was probably at the party, but we can’t be one hundred percent sure.”

  Dehan had been listening with her glass halfway to her mouth. Now she put it down without drinking and said, “OK, so I am going to ask the stupid question. Why didn’t you ask him?”

  “He vanished.”

  Dehan made a face like three ‘O’s.

  Rafa looked at me and said, “It’s in the report.”

  “We only picked up the case this morning, Rafa. We’ll read and digest tonight. Meantime, help me out. What do you mean, he vanished?”

  “We went to his house, he wasn’t there. We contacted his landlord, he’d given two months’ notice end of August, and had left November 1st.”

  “The day after the party. That is one hell of a coincidence.”

  “Tell me about it. Naturally, Giorgio and Fernando were no longer suspects. Aside from the fact that their DNA didn’t match, this guy’s behavior obviously made him the prime suspect.”

  Dehan was nodding. “Did you manage to trace him at all?”

  “Kind’a. We discovered he had a sister in California. I’m not being funny, but the address is in the file. Elk Grove, if I remember right, in Sacramento. We called her and she said she hadn’t heard from Cyril in years. She said she’d let us know if he turned up. We put out a BOLO.” He shrugged and pulled a face. “But it was like he’d vanished off the face of the Earth. We even got a court order to try and recover genetic material from the house, but he’d got professional cleaners in and there was not a trace of him anywhere.”

  For a moment, he looked embarrassed. “There wasn’t a lot more we could do. We canvassed his workmates—he was a librarian—to see if there was anybody who might be hiding him, but the universal consensus was that he was a bit weird, a loner, had no friends, and kept to himself. He’d handed in his notice two months earlier there too, at the same time he handed in his notice to his landlord. Didn’t say where he was going, something vague about going abroad.”

  I called for another round of beers and scratched my head. “So, two months earlier, he decides to kill Sue on Halloween. I get the feeling he is a meticulous planner. He hands in his notice at work and with his landlord, comes along to the Halloween party, and when she leaves, he follows…” I paused and shook my head. “I have a couple of problems with this scenario. First, if he is such a meticulous planner, why does he pick a method of killing her that he cannot be a hundred percent sure will work? He can’t guarantee she will be alone that night. She might have spent the night with Giorgio or Fernando. Also, even if she was alone, how can he be sure that she will let him in?”

  Rafa shrugged. “I’d love to have asked him.” Then he suddenly made a face like mental constipation.

  Dehan was watching him and nodding like she was reading his constipated mind. She said, “I don’t think he’s the guy.”

  Rafa nodded at her.

  I said, “What makes you say that?”

  The barman came over with a tray of beer and set them in front of us on the table. When he went away, Dehan said, “OK, this is going to sound crazy, but hear me out. Everything and anything Cyril does is going to look weird and creepy, because the one thing this guy does not want is for anybody ever to notice him. Right?”

  Rafa was nodding, staring at his beer. “That’s exactly what I think.”

  I said, “OK.”

  “So, the only reason it looks weird that he gave notice at work and to his landlord is because he didn’t tell anybody about it. Anybody else would have told his workmates, his family, friends… But Cyril is a loner and he doesn’t tell anybody. He just goes. So it looks like he’s on the run. But aside from the coincidence of dates, there is nothing that points to him as her rapist or her killer.”

  “Disappearing after a murder is fairly strong circumstantial evidence.”

  “But did he do a runner?” She raised her eyebrows. “He gave two months’ notice. That’s not much of a runner. Plus, as you yourself said, the rape has the feel of being opportunistic, not planned. This guy seems to be a planner, not an opportunist.”

  I grunted. “There is also the small fact of the DNA. He is the only person at the part whose DNA was not tested.” I took a long pull and looked at them both. “If not him, who?”

  Rafa nodded. “I have to say, Stone, I always thought it was Giorgio. It’s wrong to say ‘I thought’. There is very little evidence pointing to him, but I had a gut feeling.”

  “How do you account for the DNA?”

  “I can’t, but you know like I do, that’s not impossible to rig.”

  I snorted. “Not impossible, but damned difficult.”

  Dehan gave me a long, skeptical look. “There were apparently three hookers at the party…”

  I smiled. “So when everybody is good and drunk, Giorgio telephones his three hookers…”

  Dehan took over. “Meanwhile, Fernando has left with Sue. He makes sure she gets home and returns to the party, where Cyril has been taken into a room upstairs with the hookers. It’s all done in the spirit of good fun. The girls are sweet to him and make him wear a condom. Once they have the semen, either Fernando or Giorgio, or both, return, rape and kill her and plant the evidence.”

  Rafa leaned back, pointing at her. “I like that theory better than Cyril. It’s convoluted because it has to be, but it makes more sense to me as a cop than this little guy planning an opportunistic murder two months ahead. You said yourself, Stone, it makes no sense to plan everything ahead and leave the actual kill to chance.”

  Dehan’s face was almost apologetic. “I have to say I agree. Cyril just doesn’t ring true.”

  I turned it over and around in my head a few times, then asked Rafa, “Anything else?”

  He thought for a moment, with his arms crossed, then said: “Basically, Stone, the way I see it, you have three or four options, depending how you look at it. One, like I just said, Cyril planned this murder for at least two months, but left the actual killing to chance; two, and maybe three, Giorgio and/or Fernando killed her and framed Cyril; three, or four, it was opportunistic. Some guy passing saw her go in, saw she was drunk, rang at the door and pushed his way in.”

  Dehan drained her glass and tried and failed to repress a belch. “That is in many ways the most likely scenario, but the big drawback is that an opportunist who manages to rape and kill a woman without upsetting any furniture is statistically very likely to have a rap sheet. And this guy did not show up on any database.”

  Rafa shrugged again. “Which leaves you back with Giorgio or Fernando. Motive would not be impossible to find. By the looks of it, they were into her, but she was not into them. MO? What your partner said. A frame up.”

  I gave something like a reluctant nod. “Food for thought.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” With a hint of irony, he added, “If I could’a been, I would probably have solved it myself.”

  I laughed. “Sure. I hear you.”

  We stood and shook hands, thanked him for his time and stepped out into the freezing dusk, where the street lamps and shop fronts were already beginning to light up, and the clouded sky above was
turning dark.

  “So what now, Sensei?”

  I leaned on the roof of the Jag and shuddered. “Now, you get on the phone and request Cyril Browne’s financials from the end of August 2006. While you do that, I’m going to phone Frank. Then we go and visit Fernando. We’ll see if he’s as much of a pain in the ass as his friend Giorgo.”

  We climbed in the car out of the cold and slammed the doors.

  Four

  Frank’s phone rang twice and he answered. I said:

  “I am going to frame you for rape and murder.”

  “You’re not normal, Stone. That is not a normal way to start a conversation on the telephone.”

  I ignored him and pressed on. “So, I am going to lure you into a room with three prostitutes.”

  “Three, no less, I am flattered.”

  “They will gather your semen in a condom.”

  “I see. Are you going to stop soon? I hope you are going to stop soon.”

  “And I will take that condom to a nearby house, where I will strangle a woman and then introduce the semen into her, making it seem that you raped her.”

  “I am assuming, John, that this is not a gratuitous threat, but your inimitable way of asking me if such a thing is possible.”

  “No, Frank, I am threatening you.”

  “Very amusing, this roughhouse humor. The answer is, it depends. A very astute Medical Examiner might spot it, but it could just as easily go undetected.”

  “How would you detect it?”

  He sighed and was quiet for a moment. “In the coital, orgasmic spasm, the man tends to stop thrusting and withdrawing, which is the normal build up to orgasm, and becomes rigid, pumping, as it were, his semen as deep within the woman as he possibly can.”

  “You say such pretty things.”

  “This is nature’s way of ensuring that the sperm has the best possible chance of fertilizing the egg. Therefore, if the body has remained immobile since being raped, the bulk of the sperm will have tended to settle mainly in one location, deep within the vagina, leaving only traces elsewhere. However, in the scenario you have described, the sperm would tend to be smeared mainly around the labia, upon insertion, and then along the walls of the vagina. Does that make sense?”

  “Indeed it does, Frank.”

  “What’s the case?”

  “Sue Benedict, Halloween, 2006.”

  I heard him scribbling something, then he said, “Would you like me to have a look? It’s a long shot, but if it wasn’t mentioned in the ME’s official report, there may have been some notes or observations on file here.”

  “Please, Frank. I’d be grateful.”

  I hung up. Dehan was watching me. I smiled and said, “The big question is, was it pooled at the end or smeared all over? Most MEs would miss it, but our Frank is smarter than most, so he’s going to have a look at the notes and see.”

  “Graphic, but I get the idea. OK, shall we go see Fernando?”

  “Let’s do that. After that, I think we have an appointment with a moussaka. This cold is getting to me.”

  We proceeded through the early dusk, with the headlamps and streetlamps shining hazy through sleet that was gaining confidence and turning steadily to snow, back toward Soundview. Fernando’s apartment was above a liquor store beside the public library. Access was via a narrow door to the side of the shop. There were four bells. The top one had his name by it and we rang.

  “Quien?”

  Dehan said, “NYPD. We’d like to ask you some questions, sir.”

  There was an audible sigh. Then the door buzzed and we pushed inside. There was no elevator, so we climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. He was standing with the door open, waiting for us. He was about fifty-something and looked as though he worked out at the gym. His hair was thick and curly, and a little too black. He had on a denim shirt over a black vest and he was clean shaven.

  “What’s the problem, detectives?”

  We showed him our badges and I said, “There is no problem, Mr. Martinez. We just need to ask you some questions about Sue Benedict.”

  “Susana?” He gave a bark of a laugh. “Seriously? After all these years?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  He frowned at me. “No, man. Don’t get hostile. I’m just surprised, right? Is a long time.”

  “May we come in?”

  “Sure. But don’t hang around, you know what I’m saying? I have a girl coming to watch a movie.”

  The apartment was comfortable. Giorgio’s had been expensive. This was not expensive, but it wasn’t cheap either. The furniture was solid and well made, not IKEA, and the sofa and the armchairs were deep and well padded. There was no open fire, but the heavy burgundy drapes were drawn and the apartment was warm. There was a smell of roasting chicken on the air. Like Giorgio, he took the sofa and left the chairs to us.

  Dehan leant forward and asked him, “What can you tell us about the night of the party, Mr. Martinez?”

  He laughed. “Not a lot. If I say I was stoned on coke and weed that night, can you arrest me?”

  I sighed. “We’d still have to prove it and that would be almost impossible, and really not worth the effort. We’re not interested in that. We are interested in Sue’s murder.”

  “Cool. I was drunk and pretty stoned. What I can remember is that she was coming on…” He paused and hesitated. “She was coming on to all the guys at the party and some of the chicks too. She was wild that night. To be honest, I was conflicted?” He gave it the intonation of a question, like he was asking us if we understood what conflicted meant. “Because I really liked her? And to be honest, I was hoping we would hook up that night. So, you know, she was kind of wild and open to all kinds of stuff, which was kind of nice. But at the same time I felt like, you know, it’s not just me. You know what I mean?”

  I nodded. “Sure. How was Giorgio taking all this?”

  “Oh, man…!” He stared at the ceiling. “That guy is like the most arrogant, self involved, narcissistic prick in the world. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the guy. He is brilliant. But he is so far up his own ass he can look out through his own teeth when he talks. And he was real mad at Sue because she was by far the prettiest girl in any of his classes, and he wanted her falling at his feet. And she wasn’t. In fact, she was beginning to take an interest in me. So he was like, what? You know, like, what the hell is going on here? I am God around here!”

  Dehan smiled. “So there was some rivalry between the two of you, over Sue…”

  “But don’t expect that macho pig to admit it! I think he even telephoned some whores to come to the party, so he could show Sue that he didn’t care that she wasn’t fawning all over him. Either way, it made no difference because she left the party quite early, about two? Something like that. I mean, it was twelve years ago, right?”

  “It was, but you are being very helpful, Mr. Martinez, and we are very grateful.” She gave him a dazzling smile, which he gave right back. She went on, “So, did you guys leave together?”

  “Like I told the first detective, it must be in the report! We left together. I asked her if she wanted to hook up, spend the night together, she said no, she was beginning to feel sick and just wanted to sleep. She promised we’d get together in the next day or two, and talk about things. I figured that meant we were going to be just friends. So I went home.”

  I asked him, “You didn’t see anybody, a car, a bike, anything out of place?”

  He gave a small, sad laugh. “You know, if I had, I would have told you guys twelve years ago.”

  I nodded. “Of course you would, but you’d be amazed how many people remember things over time that they did not remember at the time. Mr. Martinez, do you remember Cyril?”

  “Little Cyril?” He beamed. “Sure I do! Worked at the library. Sweet guy, but so timid.”

  “Was he at the party?”

  “Oh, sure! I invited him myself. He was class mascot. I loved that guy. I was always trying to get him laid, but
he was just so scared of everything, you know what I mean? He sat in the corner, with his glass of lemonade, watching, listening. Not talking. He was crazy about Sue.”

  Dehan frowned. “He told you that?”

  “Not in so many words, but I used to watch him watching her. And I am telling you, that was pure, unadulterated adoration in his eyes. She was like a goddess to him. I used to tell her, go sit on his lap, give him a kiss. But she wouldn’t. Sometimes I made her? And he would go bright red! But I swear he loved it.”

  I said, “At the party? Did you tell her to do that at the party?”

  “At the party, yes. But I told her in class too, all the time. Jesus! It would have put some fun and light into the poor guy’s life. But she was mean. I guess she was a bit of a prick tease. Always flirting, but never saw it through. I think that made Giorgio pretty made at her.”

  “Really? Mad enough to kill her, you think?”

  His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. “Oh, my goodness, no! Giorgio is a beautiful, spiritual being. He couldn’t hurt anybody! Besides, they found the sperm, right? All the guys at the party were cleared, because the killer left his DNA. That’s what I understood, anyway.” He looked from me to Dehan and back again.

  I sighed. “The case isn’t closed, Mr. Martinez, and until it’s closed, every avenue remains a possibility.”

  “Gosh,” he said. “I see. Do I need a lawyer, then?”

  Dehan smiled like she was going to reassure him, but said, “I don’t know, do you?”

  He sat up straight, half laughing. “Well, you’re making me nervous! Of course not. We all loved Sue, some of us more than others, but we all loved her. You know what I think? I think she was so drunk she left the door open, and some passing punk saw it, went in and killed the poor child. She was so gorgeous!”

  I saw Dehan’s eyes narrow and she drew breath. I knew what she was going to ask him, but I cut across her. “You may well be right, Mr. Martinez.” I looked at Dehan and told her with my face not to pursue it. “Tell me, how long have you and Giorgio been friends?”