“I don’t think I could eat anything after seeing that.”
Matt gave her a curt nod. “Temeke’s in the living room measuring the distance from the wall to the doggie door. He’ll be out soon.”
Malin blew out a large cloud of breath and thanked him. Never thought Matt liked her. Not like that.
She glanced through the front door, saw the back of Temeke’s head peering over the inner tape at the core of the crime scene. Black as midnight and damn fine. A man who read forensics textbooks every night, majored in psychology and criminal justice and had a brain like a sponge when it came to character patterns. She felt a rollercoaster of adrenalin, couldn’t stop stealing looks at him.
He was a bugger too. At least, that’s how the British described each other, and he was uncompromising and tenacious to a fault. In short, he stood out from his peers because of his background; behavioral science training wasn’t for everyone. That’s why Hackett kept him, even at the risk of losing a certain rapport he had gained with District Attorney Theodore L. Meyer.
She glanced down at the notepad in her hand, the diagram of the sitting room and the victim’s chair. Two words she always wrote in the margin. This time; anger, separation. She was never sure where these words came from, a primal sense, a whisper that seemed to wedge them there.
She stayed by the front door and smiled at the young Asian woman who was trying to dab her nose with a handkerchief. The man beside her gripped the collar of an energetic Dalmatian whose lips were wrapped around a butcher’s bone.
Malin wondered if Zarah Thai had been a specific target, vulnerable as she was. The pizza box came from a recognized chain of restaurants and for one naïve moment Malin wondered if it had been an accident. But no ground up rat poison mixed with cheddar cheese was an accident. It was more likely a spiteful afterthought.
A jealous boyfriend? It certainly wasn’t spontaneous, rather orchestrated by someone who knew Zarah liked pizza, or knew she regularly ordered one on a particular night.
Malin considered a man with a key to the house, but that didn’t wash, not with the threat of a police unit outside. She thought of someone in a neighboring house who had access to the back yard, or someone who had been inside the house all the time. Poison was too subtle for a man and she jumped to the natural conclusion that it had to be a woman.
She also jumped at the loud sigh behind her. Temeke was on the doorstep, slipping off a pair of shoe covers and gloves and slapping them on the lid of a nearby trash can. He walked further out into the street, lit a cigarette and then turned around to face her.
“Notice the word on the kitchen doorframe?”
She hadn’t but she nodded all the same.
“E-S-T-H-E-R-I.” He paused for a second to take a drag. “What else did you find out about Paddy Brody?”
“Glad you got my messages, sir.” He gave her a look as if to say yeah, so you followed Paddy and Adel to a gloomy wood, who gives a crap, and flapped a hand to invite her to continue.
“I tried to call him. No answer,” she said. “So I called his roommate. He said Paddy has counseling with Pastor Razz at Clemency Baptist Church on Thursday afternoons and classes at Gibson on Monday and Wednesday. Said Paddy could get weird sometimes. Started talking in his sleep about Lily Delgado. Thought you might be interested.”
“Time to bring Mr. Brody in.”
Malin could see a ripple of excitement on his face before he became distracted by the open door.
“They’re still bloody measuring and drawing sketches, Marl. Poor girl must have been in agony, stomach stripped down to the quick. Damn lucky she was found by a nosy neighbor.”
He jutted his chin at the man and the Dalmatian, and then came up close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Found the dog outside the front door, whining and scratching at the paint. Neighbor rapped on the window of the cop car, roused young officer Maynard over there from his forty winks and told him to get his ass into gear. Since there was no answer when he rang the bell, Maynard muscled his way through the garden gate and broke a window. And there was poor Zarah Thai tied up and unconscious. Of course, he never saw anyone go in. Or out, for that matter.”
“Why are we always hurting for witnesses?” It was Malin’s turn to sigh.
“I bet that’s every copper’s cry.” He flicked a hand at the responding officer and asked to look at his notepad. “Anyone I need to talk to?”
Officer Maynard shook his head. “All I saw was a pizza van. Guy rang the bell and left the box on the doorstep.”
“Did you get the license plate? Nah, I didn’t think you did. Color.”
“Gray.”
Temeke’s head snapped up. “What did he look like―”
“Black woolen hat, dark hair down to his collar. Five seven, a hundred and twenty-five pounds, or thereabouts. It happened so fast. The van was rattling down the street before I had time to think about it. None of the neighbor’s saw him.”
“Bloody typical, isn’t it. All glued to the TV, blinds drawn, no one doing neighborhood watch. It’s a pity because we are entitled to know the methods maniacs use to destroy lives.” Temeke gave a tight grin and eyed the Unit Commander on the other side of the street. He gave Maynard a dismissive nod and turned back to Malin.
“Look on the bright side, love. At least you don’t have to deal with that skinny old git over there fog-horning into his hanky. We’re lucky to have Hackett. If he had half the brains of Roach we’d have been given our marching orders by now.”
A fleeting glance told Malin the balding Commander standing in front of the motor home was no pushover. Roach had a somber face, steel gray hair and what Temeke frequently described as a poncey scent. He hated smoking and if he found so much as a whiff on his patch, the offender was sent packing for violating the crime scene.
“Aren’t you going back inside?” Roach shouted, finger pointed at Temeke.
“I’ve already been, sir,” Temeke replied, clearly sounding puzzled at such an obvious question.
“What’s that smell?”
“Smell, sir?” Temeke threw the cigarette behind him, gave it a cursory glance and ground it under his heel.
“Should have gotten here sooner. You’d have caught him in the act.” Roach straightened up, walked on over and stood right in front of Malin. He listened intently as Temeke introduced her.
“I’m glad you’re here to look after Temeke.”
“Look after him, sir? I wasn’t aware he needed looking after.”
“You’d be surprised what he’ll get up to unsupervised.” Roach looked at her and did not add that he expected her to agree with him. But it was implied in a quirky smile. “I heard you got a little bonus.”
“A bonus, sir?”
“Hackett only rewards the best,” he said, tapping his nose.
Malin stood still, breath suspended, wondering what type of gratuity he was referring to and how little it really was. She felt her spirits rise. About time those ridiculous hours she’d been pulling were noticed for once, especially the entire reorganization of the cold case files which were a shambles before she was hired. And here was Temeke scuffing moodily at the remains of his cigarette on the pavement because no one had said anything to him. She wanted to laugh.
“Awful, what happened.” Roach narrowed his eyes and looked past them at the house. “Things are getting worse out here, drugs, gangs, murder... and we’ve not even made a dent in it. I was only going over the figures with my sergeant this morning. Criminal mischief, dead bodies, behavioral problems, DUI, and that’s only if you don’t factor in traffic stops―”
“It’s not gangs,” Malin spoke up. She sensed Temeke’s head snap around, sensed his scrutiny.
“You don’t think so?” Roach said. “’Cause it’s important to me what you think. That’s why I asked you both here.”
“I think it’s a lone assassin, sir. Someone with a personal grudge. A revenge thing... you know.”
“Can’t say I d
o.”
“Including Alice Delgado, we’ve got three murders and one attempted murder. I say including Alice Delgado because all the victims went to Los Poblanos Academy. At the same time.”
“Alice Delgado was a suicide.”
“What if it wasn’t? What if it was somehow staged... made to look like a suicide? These aren’t a bunch of thugs executing girls with a bullet through the head. It’s too exotic for that. Feels personal, don’t you think?”
“If indeed they are linked.”
“What if they all played tennis at Tanoan Country Club? What if they all had the same sexual partner?”
“It would be unusual to have the same sexual partner, my dear. We don’t have harems in New Mexico. Don’t have the stomach for it. Or the culture.”
“No, of course not, sir.”
Roach’s eyes moved past hers to the front door of the house and he nodded to someone inside. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, eyes forward as he brushed past her.
Malin walked back to the car with Temeke in silence, turned on the ignition and headlights, and then rubbed her hands against the air vents. “He jumped at the sexual partner comment. Wasn’t interested in tennis.”
“Some people prefer sex to tennis. And a small portion of tennis could be termed as erotica. Seen how short those skirts are?” Temeke lit up another cigarette and switched his attention to officer Maynard, whose car pulled out of the road first. “Poor old bugger. Can’t see him making sergeant any time soon.”
“More victims... how does it look if we can’t protect them?”
“Thinking about Adel Martinez?”
“I’m thinking about better surveillance.”
“Volunteering?”
“Commander Roach has assigned two officers day and night. But Adel’s getting past them. And since suspects are still pretty thin on the ground, someone needs to stay in the house.”
“Not our area, Marl. But I’ll put in a good word at Southeast Area Command. And no, I won’t mention you followed Mr. Brody to a restaurant the other night and that Ms. Martinez was packing illegal goodies down that tight little blouse of hers. Or that you didn’t bring her home when you had the chance. Don’t want to ruin that nice bonus now, do we?”
Malin merely snorted. Temeke offering her services to Detective Suzi Cornwell was the last thing she needed, but she knew the case, knew the witness. It was likely Suzi would agree.
Temeke looked unnerved, like he knew there was something strange out there. “Did you notice the Dalmatian? Sodding big dog. Sodding big lamb shank and all.” He whistled softly to show he was impressed, raised his butt off the seat a little to retrieve a ringing phone.
“Yeah,” she murmured, and then it hit her. The doggie door wasn’t big enough for a full grown man, but it would certainly accommodate a boy.
Temeke turned slowly to face her, phone pressed against his ear.
“Go ahead, Luis... She’s what? You’ve got to be bloody kidding.”
TWENTY-NINE
Temeke glanced at the gray skinned girl and picked up the letter.
I look around the house and I see her picture. I call her name and when she doesn’t answer it feels like a punch in the chest. I see the garage where my dad used to work, all his tools laid out as if he would come back any second and just pick them up again.
It scares me and it haunts me.
Then I go into my sister’s room, smell her clothes, sit on her bed and wait a while. I listen to the silence and to the wind outside and then I cry when I lie on her bed. I remember the last thing we did together, how the sun slanted across the room as we laughed, I remember exactly where she stood and how. What she wore. Her hair, the color of it and how long it was.
I pray I won’t wake up because of the pain. It hurts so much. My heart shudders a little. It’s breaking. Maybe enough to kill me. It’s the cloudy days that make it worse and the rain when it comes. So many tears. And when the sun comes out I feel a little better.
But she was happy. That’s the only thing that keeps the lump from my throat growing bigger and bigger. Both of us... were happy.
He didn’t know how to explain it, except to say that Lily had been kidnapped, kept in a basement, fed nothing more than left-overs through a grate in the door. Said she heard a solid beat that escalated now and again, a motor of some kind.
There were squeals of delight when Valerie saw her that Tuesday morning, hands brushing her cheeks, arms and whatever else she could feel. Parents always wanted to touch and smell, and they had questions... so many questions.
Lily lay in a hospital bed with an officer on duty outside. She was muttering about the color of days, some gray, some white, some red. Temeke didn’t know what she meant, couldn’t imagine the pain, didn’t want to fill her in with what had happened to Zarah Thai either. Her upper lip had been split open and her eye socket was a rare shade of blue.
“I can see a white metal bed and a window. I like the view,” she said.
“What can you see?” he asked, leaning in a little and smelling the scent of her.
“A lawn, the Pepper Pot, Alice...” She smiled and then frowned. “But it’s all a dream, isn’t it?”
Temeke knew she was remembering Los Poblanos, high stone walls, stone benches and secret paths in the Lion’s Mouth. She had been happy when Alice was there.
“Yes, it’s all a dream.”
She said she couldn’t remember how it happened, who had left her on the hard shoulder of Alameda bridge in the dark. But someone found her, one arm dangling over the parapet, fingers twitching from the cold. No shoes, no socks, no coat.
Lily said she saw the winding river and heard the rumble of a car. Said she ached all over, felt the pain in her chest, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink and her eyelids were swollen. One kind soul had stopped, parked a few feet from where she fell. She remembered because she was able to lift her head, saw him through strands of wet hair that clung to her cheeks. He kept asking for her name, gave her a coat and stayed with her until the ambulance came.
Temeke sat for a brief moment in silence, while Valerie Delgado fumbled with her purse, muttered something about how much better it would be if Temeke and Lily were alone. She walked out of the room, face lowered as if she was somehow ashamed.
She shouldn’t have been, thought Temeke. None of it was her fault.
“Mom outside?” Lily murmured.
“Yes,” he said. “Want me to fetch her?”
“In a little while.”
Lily shivered, asked for a cup of tea and turned her head toward the window at a light patter of rain against the glass. Said she didn’t dare fall asleep. She’d only dream if she did.
“You’re a little banged up, that’s all,” he said, walking toward the window and pulling the blinds down half way. “We’ll find the man who did this. You’ll see.”
Sad they couldn’t find the man who waited with Lily until the ambulance came. Temeke wondered if she was seeing things through the lens of terror and the slit of a black eye.
He studied her long and hard before he spoke, noticed the set of her mouth was sad. She had a certain presence he couldn’t define.
“Name’s Detective Temeke. I just want to ask a few questions if that’s OK?”
“The same guy who caught that Norwegian killer before Christmas?” She seemed to wait for him to nod. “It was all over the news. So you’re the big crime fighter they’re always talking about.”
“Who’s talking?”
“Everyone. All the school kids know you. All the boys want to be like you.”
For all his faults, Temeke had no idea he had a following. He often gave talks at schools, did roadshows at the mall with the K-9 unit and he was usually chased out without a smile.
“How are you feeling?” he said.
“Tired.”
He sat down again, elbows on his thighs as he leaned forward a little. “I’m glad you’re home. I’m glad you’re OK.”
A nurse brough
t in a cup of tea and Lily seemed to take a cautious sip. Again there was silence, curiously pleasant this time and he was in no hurry to break it.
“You look different from the TV,” she said, and he caught her glancing at his right hand. There was no sign of a ring, or any visible indentation on the fourth finger. It was long gone now.
He turned on the micro-recorder he kept in his pocket and placed it on the overbed table. “Witness interview with Lily Delgado, Rust Hospital. Conversation begins...” he checked his watch, “at ten fifteen a.m. From the beginning, Lily, tell me what happened?”
She took another sip of hot tea, a steady blush creeping across her face as if she was suddenly self-conscious. “It was Friday afternoon when I went to get the mail. He drove up to the curb, asked me if I wanted to go for a walk.”
“Who asked you?”
“Paddy... Paddy Brody.”
“Where you expecting him?”
“No.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
Lily squinted at a ray of sun that slipped under the blinds. “About two weeks ago.”
“Where did you go?”
“To the woods. We had a few smokes, talked. He asked if he could kiss me. I said no.”
“Why did you say no?”
“He’s dating someone, a friend from school.”
“Did he try to kiss you?”
“No, sir. Paddy wouldn’t do that.”
“He must like you a lot.”
“He always says so.”
Temeke saw the flicker of a smile at the corners of her mouth, the heavy lidded stare. He reminded himself he was a professional, a man hunter, always looking for a challenge. And here he was locked into two hazel eyes and he felt the irresistible need to pretend it wasn’t happening.
“Were you drinking?” he asked. It would be no use lying about a few drinks. She couldn’t deceive him for a minute.
“Wine. I... I blacked out.”
“Fainted? Knocked out... what?”
Her eyes seemed to take in every detail, seemed to glide over his denim shirt, collar open to the second button and cuffs turned up beyond the wrist. Everything in the room went very quiet, the scent of fresh soap was very noticeable.
Past Rites Page 16
