I felt a momentary wave of tension. “And?”
“And it’s unusual, a specialty item. It’s made by a company called Marlow, and it’s called D12. The fibers are something called Dyneema SK75—super strong—supposed to be stronger than steel. It’s used in pulleys and winches, things like that. Anyway, once they knew what it was, the lab was able to match the rope found in Bannister’s apartment to the rope used to strangle Judie Lawton. It’s an exact match. They contacted the manufacturer, and turns out they can identify it right down to the batch.”
“What about the fibers from Sophie?” I asked.
“They compared the fibers that the Lewis County ME found embedded in Sophie Thoms’s neck too. Want to guess what they found?”
I knew what he was going to say. “The fibers matched up.”
“Gold star for you,” Ron said. “I just found out. They were an exact match. Rope’s right off the same spool.”
I considered this for a few seconds. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, I guess you have your answers then.”
“The rope ties everything together,” Kenny said.
We all looked at him. “Very funny,” Toni said.
I turned back to the phone. “So the rope makes it look like Bannister killed Sophie Thoms. A perfect bow around the package.”
He laughed. “What? I’m over here thinking ‘right on!’ We’re about to have a party because we just confirmed our killer and yet, listening to you, I’m sensing . . . skepticism? That you are, shall we say, less than convinced?”
“Nope—ain’t sayin’ that,” I said. “We’ve been reviewing evidence for the past week, looking for answers. One of our scenarios is that the ropes would match up. We’ve been asking ourselves why and how. And honestly? The whole thing sounds a little convenient to us, but who knows? You know the old saying: ‘Sometimes the easy answer is the right answer.’” I turned to Doc. “What’s that theory called again?”
“Occam’s razor,” Doc said.
“That’s right,” I said. “Occam’s razor. Could be the case here . . . it’s just a little sudden, that’s all.”
“Sudden?” Ron said. “Not for us. We’ve been at this for more than three months.”
“You haven’t been after Bannister all that time, though.”
“True. But the science don’t lie.”
I thought about this. Science may not lie, but it doesn’t necessarily tell the whole story, either. “Here’s the deal, Ron,” I said. “We’ve been talking about this very thing this afternoon. This is our last week on the case—we’re only contracted through this Friday. We’re going to take some time and try to digest this latest bit of information before we figure out our next move for the rest of the week. You mind sending us a copy of the report?”
“You bet. I’m emailing you a copy right now.”
“Thanks,” I paused, then said, “so what’s this mean as far as you guys are concerned? Case closed? Where’s that leave SPD? You’re going to wrap things up with the task force, I suppose?”
He laughed. “Hell, Danny, they don’t tell me that kind of stuff until the decision’s already been made. I haven’t heard anything yet. If I had to guess, knowing the kind of budget heat we’re under, I’d say yeah, they’ll at least start scaling back, maybe even shut it down. They got this thing around here—once a case is solved, they like to stop spending money on it. But they haven’t said anything like that yet.”
He was silent for a few seconds, and then he said, “Listen—you keep snoopin’ around, you’d damn well better call me if you turn something up between now and the end of the week, you hear? Or later, even. I want to wrap this thing up as much as anybody, but I don’t want to make a mistake and cause the captain to pull the plug on the task force too soon. I can see it now: Captain Jerry goes on TV and announces we’ve got our man, and he closes the task force. A week later, you guys roll out someone else altogether. We end up looking like idiots.”
“If you’re worried about that, maybe it’s because you’re a little concerned that SPD is calling the game too early,” I said sharply.
“I ain’t callin’ shit,” he protested. “It ain’t up to me. I want to catch the son of a bitch who did this same as you—the right son of a bitch. Personally, I think it was Bannister. But if it wasn’t him, then I want to find out who it was and hammer the fucker. And the brass is under a shitload of pressure to solve this thing and move on. So don’t you get all uppity with me. All I’m saying is that you’d just best not dare go and figure something else out and saw off the limb we’re sittin’ on. That wouldn’t be fair and you owe us that, at least. Besides, we’re supposed to be on the same fuckin’ side here. You find something, you come to me.”
I smiled. “Easy problem to prevent, Ron. Go to work on Captain Jerry. Keep the task force going ’til we’re all certain.”
“Yeah? How am I gonna do that? You guys have nothing but hunches and feelings.”
“I’m not worried about what we have or don’t have,” I said. “I’m worried about what you have or don’t have. All I’m saying is hold up until there’s a little more certainty.”
“Yeah. Piece of fuckin’ cake. I’ll do what I can,” he said. We wrapped up and said our good-byes.
We sat back for a moment and just looked at each other.
“Wow,” Toni said. “This is going to take a second—I don’t know what to make of it yet.”
“Me neither,” I said, shaking my head.
Two hours later, just as I was getting ready to leave for the day, Ron called back to tell me that a press conference had been scheduled for Wednesday morning—they’d have made it for the next day, but they didn’t want to compete for coverage with the presidential election. He didn’t know what was to be announced. Or maybe he knew, and he just didn’t want to say.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to read a short prepared statement, and then I’ll be available for questions.” Captain Jerold Cunningham was a tall, silver-haired man with a serious countenance. The mayor and a half-dozen city officials flanked him to his left. To his right stood all the members of the Sophie Thoms Task Force, including Ron and Yoshi. Captain Cunningham looked out over the crowd of reporters gathered before him for the ten o’clock press conference called by SPD in the city council chambers. Toni and I watched from the back of the room.
“As you know, the Sophie Thoms Homicide Task Force was formed back in late July to investigate the murder of Seattle resident Sophie Thoms. Since then, the task force has conducted a thorough investigation, including the interviews of literally hundreds of people. We have meticulously assembled this information in accordance with the best police practices being used anywhere. Approximately ten days ago, Seattle resident Judie Lawton, a friend of Sophie Thoms, was also brutally murdered. Because of the nature of the relationship between the two young women, and the fact that forensic evidence found at the scene of each crime indicated that they were killed in a similar manner, the task force was immediately assigned the lead in the investigation into Ms. Lawton’s murder.
“This past Saturday night, a local man named Joshua Bannister apparently took his own life by jumping from the top of a five-story building located in the Capitol Hill area. Mr. Bannister, who was Judie Lawton’s boyfriend, was a convicted felon and was on parole at the time of his death. Because of his past and his relationship with the victim, I want to stress that he was already a person of interest in the Judie Lawton homicide investigation when he died. The subsequent investigation of Mr. Bannister’s death was conducted by the task force and by the Seattle Police Department’s Crime Scene Investigation unit. This investigation led to the discovery of new forensic evidence in Mr. Bannister’s residence that links him directly to both the Judie Lawton and the Sophie Thoms homicides. Based on the evidence, we now believe that Judie Lawton was murdered by Mr. Bannister. In addition, we feel that Mr. Bannister would also have been a prime suspect in the Sophie Thoms homicide as well. As such, toda
y, after consulting with the King County District Attorney’s office, the Seattle Police Department is closing the Judie Lawton homicide investigation.” He paused and looked up before continuing.
“As I said, the physical evidence that we have uncovered provides a strong indication that Mr. Bannister was also involved in the murder of Sophie Thoms just over three months ago. As I said, knowing what we have learned, were Mr. Bannister alive, he would be considered a primary suspect in that case today. But in part because he’s not alive, several questions remain unanswered in that particular investigation. Accordingly, we are not yet in a position to close the Sophie Thoms case, although we hope to be able to do so soon. There’s still more to be done, and we’ll make further announcements at such time as it becomes appropriate. Meanwhile, the work of the Sophie Thoms Homicide Task Force will continue until we are completely confident that Sophie Thoms’s killer has been identified and brought to justice. Thank you. At this time, I’ll take some questions.”
Toni and I walked into Duke’s at five minutes before seven for a meeting with Nicki Thoms. She’d been back in town since Monday. Presumably, she felt that since Josh Bannister was dead, the threat was over. I talked to her yesterday and told her that we had a couple of things to go over with her. She readily agreed to meet.
“Hey, guys,” the hostess, a pert little redhead named Kathleen, said when we entered. “Haven’t seen you two for a couple of days.”
“We’ve been working our butts off on a case,” Toni said. “But it’s starting to calm down now.”
“Well, that’s good, right?” She smiled and looked around. “We’re pretty busy already, but I can put you in a table over there in the corner.”
“That’s perfect,” I said. The restaurant’s not that big—a table a little toward the back and out of the way was a good thing.
We took our seats, and Toni ordered a beer while we waited for Nicki. I was still off beer given that I had two weeks to go until the race.
“Think she’ll be on time?” Toni asked.
“Who knows.” I looked down at my menu and when I glanced back up a few seconds later, Nicki was crossing the floor. Heads turned as several restaurant patrons recognized her. Without even trying, she made quite an entrance. “Wow. How about that. A minute early even.”
Nicki smiled broadly when she reached our table. “I cannot tell you how good it is to be home,” she said, stripping off a faux–leopard skin coat and tossing it over an empty chair. “I mean, I adore London, but two weeks in the same city as my father was nearly enough to do me in. My God.” She pulled out a chair next to me and sat down.
“So your trip was good?” I asked.
“Boring.” She glanced around the room, then focused back on me. “No drugs,” she said quietly. “I’m going on three weeks sober.”
I smiled.
“Congratulations,” Toni said. “Hang in there.”
Nicki nodded. “Thanks.”
“I was surprised to hear you were back already,” I said. “I didn’t think you’d come home until the police announced the coast was clear. That didn’t happen until yesterday.”
“So I’m told,” she said. “But that had nothing to do with it. I left three days ago because I couldn’t stand it at my parents’ home for another minute. I was basically sequestered the whole time. I had my own bodyguard, compliments of my father. And I think my bodyguard also had a bodyguard. I ended up spending every night at home, probably under lock and key. I couldn’t have gotten high even if I’d wanted. I think the guys stood watch outside my bedroom door in shifts.”
“Since you’ve been back, I imagine someone’s brought you up to speed on everything that’s happened?”
She nodded as she reached over and put her hand on my arm. “Cecilia told me. I simply can’t believe it. First Sophie, then Judie, now Josh? It’s so sad.”
“It is,” I agreed. “You understand that the police think Josh Bannister killed your sister and Judie Lawton, then himself, right?”
“Yes. I watched that awful press conference.”
“What are your thoughts about him?”
She shrugged. “Same as they’ve always been. This whole thing is complete rubbish. The very notion of Josh killing anyone, and then killing himself? Nonsense. That’s what makes this whole thing so bizarre, right?” The waitress came and took Nicki’s drink order. “Perrier, twist of lime,” Nicki said. She noticed us looking at her and she said, “What? Surprised? I said I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.”
I nodded. “Well done.”
“You know,” Toni said, “we’re starting to have a hard time ourselves accepting that Josh actually did these things.”
Nicki stared at us with no expression. I was a little puzzled, because I’d expected her to be a little surprised that we hadn’t bought in to the official police story. Instead, she seemed to have expected it. “I figured you’d eventually sort that out. Josh didn’t do any of this. But who on earth would do such a thing?” she asked. “And why?”
“That’s our focus now,” I said. “Who and why? These are the questions we’re still trying to resolve. And we’re down to our last day to try and figure it out.” I explained to her about our arrangement with Oliver and Cecilia. “Honestly, without something to go on, I can’t feel right about asking them to extend our contract. They could continue to spend money on us forever.”
“Serves ’em right,” Nicki said, reaching for her drink. She looked at each of us, then, after a minute she nodded and leaned forward. “So,” she said quietly, dramatically, “whatever shall you do?”
I laughed. “We’re doing detective work. Tearing apart every possible suspect, trying to figure out motives. We’re still trying to reconstruct events and see if they fit that new scenario. So far, no luck, but we’re still on it.”
“Meanwhile,” Toni said, “the main reason we wanted to meet you tonight is to tell you that you need to consider the implications.”
Nicki looked at her curiously. “Implications? Me? What do you mean?” She phrased it as if this were a new topic, a new idea for her. But looking at her, I couldn’t escape the feeling that she’d already examined these issues herself. She was just playing Nicki games again.
Toni kept going. “I mean, if Josh Bannister actually did kill Sophie and Judie and then himself, well then he’s dead—threat’s over. No danger to you or anyone else.”
“Fat chance,” Nicki said.
“Exactly. Because if he didn’t do it . . .” Toni said.
Nicki looked at me. “Are you saying that I’m still in danger?” She acted as though she were not surprised by the notion—there was no fear in her eyes.
“Maybe. We don’t know why Sophie and Judie and Josh were killed. Josh was a drug dealer, so one of the prime motivations is something to do with drugs. And, being perfectly honest here, that involves you way more than it ever involved Sophie, right?”
Nicki looked at me. “Bullshit. It involves neither of us. Sophie had no contact with drugs, and mine was limited to what I bought and paid for. What reason could that be for someone to want to kill us?”
Toni shook her head. “We don’t know. Maybe none. But there still might be a threat to you out there.”
Nicki pretended to consider this, then she finally admitted, “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m quite aware that whoever killed Sophie and Judie and now Josh is still out there.”
Toni nodded. “I’m glad you see it that way. Is there somewhere you can go? Just for another week or so? I know you apparently didn’t have a good time in London . . .”
“Stop!” Nicki said quietly but sharply, holding up her hand. “You’re not listening. I’m not going back to London again, no way. I’d rather take on the bad guy by myself in a dark alley than go back to London.”
I smiled. “I get that. Do you have someone you could stay with?”
She shook her head. “Yes, of course. But don’t ask me his name. And I’ll be staying at my place, just li
ke always, thank you very much.” She looked at me, then shifted her gaze to Toni, then back to me. “I actually hope the bastard comes after me so I can pay him back for what he did to Sophie and Judie and Josh. I’m not entirely defenseless, you know. I am prepared. I have this.” She reached into her pocketbook, fumbled around for a second, then pulled out a stainless Sig Sauer P333 in a brown leather holster and laid it on the table, pointed right at my midsection.
“Holy shit,” I said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed. I reached over and covered the weapon with my hand, rotating it slightly so that it pointed somewhere else. “Put that thing away, right now.” She took it and returned it to her purse. “You’re going to get us all arrested.” I was a little touchy about that nowadays.
She looked around. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Where the hell’d you get that?”
“I borrowed it. From a friend.”
“Do you have a concealed carry permit?”
She looked at me, puzzled. “A what?”
“Do you even know how to use it?”
“Sure. He showed me. You turn off the little safety lever thing on the side and then you just point and shoot.”
Suddenly, she looked very determined. “If that fucker comes looking for me, I’ll be the last thing he sees—his last mistake.”
I sighed and shook my head. We needed to solve this case, and soon. God help us if Nicki Thoms actually pulled that weapon out and started shooting.
Chapter 18
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 9: OUR LAST DAY on the case. I had three main things on the agenda today: meet with a new client so that we could keep the lights on around here, have lunch with Dwayne and Gus, and conduct an afternoon staff meeting to wrap things up.
First thing in the morning I met with a man named Nandi Vaman. Vaman owned a wholesale plumbing supply distributorship in an industrial area of Woodinville, a small town just north of Redmond on the Eastside. He’d been talking to me since just after we started working on the Sophie Thoms case. He was a nice man, but I’d been putting him off, and sooner or later he was going to run out of patience. He had the usual problem—the physical inventory he conducted at the last count didn’t match up to what the books said it should, in his case to the tune of nearly $50,000 worth of parts. Someone was stealing him blind.
Mona Lisa Eyes (Danny Logan Mystery #4) Page 22
