‘I see,’ Tayte said, not knowing what else to say.
Mavro began to stand up. Tayte followed her lead, but Reese hadn’t quite finished.
‘I don’t want any heroics, remember. Just see what you can find and report back to me as soon as you have something.’
Mavro drove a silver Jeep Cherokee SUV. She parked up as close as she could get to the garage facility she and Tayte were interested in and they walked the remaining distance. Staring up at the red-brick and smoked-glass building, Tayte couldn’t see how it was going to be possible to know exactly where the house from 1935 had stood, and he could see from the look on Mavro’s face that she was thinking along similar lines.
Mavro shook her head. ‘It would take a team from city planning all week to tell us exactly where that house was located. Looks like the street’s been widened at some point, too. We could be standing on top of it right now.’
‘I don’t suppose the Genie works for city planning,’ Tayte offered as they strode up to the garage entrance. ‘Come to think of it, he probably couldn’t know exactly where the house stood either. I guess the simple answer is that the house stood where this parking facility now stands.’
Mavro agreed. ‘But where would he choose to kill his victim? What’s he thinking?’
Trying to get into the mind of a serial killer wasn’t something Tayte wanted to do, but he had to try. ‘One thing’s for sure,’ he said. ‘Once he’s killed again, he wants us to find the body. I doubt he’d want to make it too difficult once we’d worked out where to come.’
There was an office beside the entrance barriers. Through the glass, Tayte could see a young man in a shirt and tie reading a book with his feet up on the desk.
‘I know I told you I’m not an agent,’ Mavro said, ‘and technically that remains true, but I’ve got a badge and right now I aim to use it.’
Tayte smiled. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Authority suits you.’
He knocked, the sound seeming to startle the young man, as if he wasn’t used to people calling in person. He clearly wasn’t too busy. He sat bolt upright as Tayte opened the door and followed Mavro inside. She’d taken out the badge Reese had given her before she’d crossed the threshold.
‘I’m Agent Mavro. I’m with the FBI,’ she said, holding her badge up for the young man to see. ‘We need to take a look around this facility. Do you need to call someone for authorisation?’
‘No, I can authorise it,’ the young man said. ‘What are you looking for?’
‘That’s federal business,’ Mavro said, her tone uncharacteristically surly. ‘It shouldn’t take long. Do you have any co-workers on site?’
The young man shook his head. ‘Only when there’s a problem. Everything’s automated.’
‘Any locked rooms we might need access to?’
‘There’s a small equipment room in back.’ He went to get up. ‘I can show you.’
‘No, that’s okay for now. Anything else?’
‘There’s the plant room beneath the lower ground floor. It’s mostly for the ventilation system.’
Mavro raised her eyebrows at Tayte. She turned back to the young man. ‘Can you show us?’
The young man sprang to his feet, as if eager to help. He opened a drawer and grabbed a bunch of keys. ‘Sure, I can lock up the office awhile.’ He snorted a laugh. ‘I doubt the phone’ll ring any time soon.’
They were led across the ground-level parking area, where most of the parking bays were full. The overhead lights were typically bright. No cars had come or gone since Tayte and Mavro had arrived.
‘There’s not much activity here,’ Tayte said as they walked, heading around the perimeter of the facility towards a set of double doors that he imagined gave access to the stairwell.
‘It’s mostly long-term parking,’ the young man said.
They took the concrete stairs to the lower-ground level. Beyond the double doors that led out to the parking bays was another door, which the young man unlocked. The stairwell on the other side only led down and there was a further doorway at the bottom of the steps.
‘It’s right in here,’ the young man said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the hum emanating from the ventilation slats.
They went through and the noise grew louder. Inside was a matrix of steel pipework and cables, switch boxes, and other electrical and mechanical plant equipment.
‘Not much to see,’ the young man said, taking them further in.
‘Who else has access to this room?’ Mavro asked.
‘There’s only two sets of keys I know of. The set I have, which is kept in the office for whoever’s on shift, and the manager has a set.’
‘And do you know if anyone’s been down here lately?’
‘No, not lately. If they had I’d have seen it in the log book. Last time was just a regular inspection about a month ago.’
The tour of the plant room was brief. There really wasn’t much to see, and it was clear to Tayte, as it must have been to Mavro, that there were no signs that their killer had tried to set up any of his diabolical apparatus. If this was the room where the Genie intended to murder his next victim then, as Reese had supposed, they were well ahead of the game.
Mavro threw the young man a smile. ‘Thanks,’ she said, and they all made for the exit.
Back on ground level, Mavro said, ‘We’re going to take a look around before we leave. I’ll drop by the office and let you know once we’re done.’
‘Oh, sure. Okay,’ the young man said, sounding a little disappointed that his services were no longer required.
Tayte followed Mavro back into the stairwell, where they took the stairs up a level. Apart from the entrance and the office, it looked just the same, but with a few more vacant parking spaces.
‘Anything stand out here for you, Mr Tayte?’
Tayte shook his head. ‘Just more cars and concrete pillars. That plant room would appear to be the only place the killer could go about his business unnoticed. That’s good, right? That has to be the place.’
‘I don’t know,’ Mavro said as they followed the ramp up to the next level. ‘Reese will probably have the place staked out. Maybe someone will show.’
‘Does protocol allow you to call me JT?’ Tayte asked. ‘Most people I know do. Mr Tayte sounds kinda stuffy.’
‘Sure, I could manage that. And maybe you could stop calling me Ms Mavro, which, in case you didn’t know, is short for Mavrothalassitis.’
‘Greek.’
Mavro nodded. ‘From my father’s side. It’s quite a mouthful. My first name’s Franchesca, but I go by Frankie—Frankie Mavro.’
Tayte smiled and offered out a hand. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Frankie.’
‘Likewise, JT,’ Mavro said, shaking his hand firmly. ‘So how did you end up being a genealogist?’
‘I found out I was adopted when I was in my teens, after my adoptive parents died. They left me a letter, telling me what little they knew. In short, my birth mother abandoned me and I wanted to know why. I wanted to find her so I could ask her. I got into genealogy as a means to find my family.’
‘How did that work out for you?’
‘Until recently it wasn’t working out at all. I only found out about my biological parents a few months back.’
‘That’s great,’ Mavro said. ‘Better late than never, right?’
‘Perhaps. I was told they both died in the 1970s.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘That’s okay. The cloud has a silver lining. I also found out I have a brother, recently confirmed with a sibling DNA test. We’ve been corresponding since we met and I’ve visited with him a couple of times. I was also able to find out more about my wider family. It’s all I’ve been doing for the past few months. And even if she has passed on, it’s good to know about my mother after all this time. I’m glad to be able to put a name to the woman in the photo I’ve been carrying around in my wallet for so many years.’
Tayte could feel th
e weight of the conversation bringing his mood down. He had no doubt that his father was dead and he’d come to terms with that, but it upset him to think of his mother in the past tense. He’d heard a compelling story about how she died, but so far his research had turned up little to corroborate the story. Maybe that’s all it was—in part at least: a story. It was Tayte’s fantasy, perhaps, but he liked to believe she was still out there somewhere, despite everything he’d heard, and despite the fact that she had never come back for him. He wanted to change the subject, but his mind had become too caught up in his own recent past to move on.
Thankfully, Mavro moved the subject on for him. ‘As we’re getting better acquainted,’ she said, ‘can I ask how come you made it to forty-one years of age without getting hitched?’ She smirked. ‘Are you gay? I mean if you are, I have no problem with that, just so you know.’
‘No, I’m not gay,’ Tayte said, smiling. He laughed to himself and was glad to do so. ‘Even if I was, I still wouldn’t have found the time or the commitment for a relationship. That’s been my problem. I’m always working and I have a tendency to shut people out. It took me a long time to realise that, but now I have a fiancée. She lives in England.’
‘Well, good for you.’
Tayte smiled again. ‘I can honestly say she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’
‘How did you meet her?’
‘Under somewhat tragic circumstances. We met in London just over a year ago. It was on the day a good friend of mine was killed.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘Yeah,’ Tayte said again, and then he turned the question around before his mood darkened again. ‘What about you? I picked up earlier that you’re not married either. What was it you said? More’s the pity?’
‘I don’t think I’ll be hearing any wedding bells anytime soon,’ Mavro said. ‘I’m afraid I recognise too much of myself in what you just said.’
‘There’s no one?’
‘No, not really.’
‘Not really? Is that a maybe?’
‘Well, there’s this guy I used to work with off and on when I was in the field—Special Agent Jerome Martinez. Our paths still cross from time to time, and . . .’
Mavro’s phone began to buzz and she trailed off. She checked the display. ‘It’s Reese.’
She took the call and Tayte waited to hear what he had to say. By the time the call had ended, he thought she looked a little pale and there was urgency in her eyes as she looked up at him and said, ‘We need to get out of here. Right now.’
They walked back to the stairwell at a brisk pace.
‘What’s happened?’ Tayte asked.
‘Reese just heard back from the team he sent to see your former client Jennifer Walters.’
‘Has something happened to her? Is she okay?’
‘She’s okay. It’s her daughter. She’s been missing for the past three weeks.’
Chapter Five
Special Agent in Charge Jordan Reese arrived outside the garage facility ten minutes after his call to Mavro. With him were two other men, both wearing blue jackets with large yellow FBI lettering on the back. They were introduced as Special Agents Woods and Farrier. Tayte imagined they were there for support if any were needed, although he figured that if Reese thought they were in any immediate danger, he would have told him and Mavro to keep out of the way. They were all now heading back inside and Reese was clearly upset. He’d been sighing and shaking his head since he’d arrived.
‘I really thought we were ahead of this killer,’ he said, sighing again as they passed the barriers that led into the garage complex. ‘As soon as I heard that Kelly Uttridge, your former client’s daughter, was missing, I wanted you both out of here as quickly as possible in case our killer was around. I didn’t want him to get spooked and choose another location. As she’s been missing three weeks, however, I now believe that whatever our killer had planned for her has already happened. Why else take her so early? It would be an unnecessary risk on his part.’
‘You think she’s here?’ Mavro said. ‘There aren’t many places to hide a body without someone noticing it, and we’ve checked the only room offering any kind of privacy.’
Reese stopped walking outside the office and gave her a bemused look, as if to suggest she’d overlooked the obvious. ‘There are literally hundreds of places to hide a body here, Ms Mavro.’ He waved a hand towards the parked cars. ‘Take a look around you. How many vehicles do you see?’
Mavro gave no answer. She just nodded her head to let Reese know she understood what he meant.
‘And that’s just on this level,’ Reese continued. ‘Did you manage to locate the exact position of the house from 1935? Maybe he put Kelly Uttridge’s body in a car parked on the same spot.’
‘No, sir,’ Mavro said.
Tayte joined the conversation. ‘I don’t believe the killer could have known the exact location of the house,’ he said. ‘I think he just wanted us to come here to this garage.’
Reese laughed. ‘So we’ve got to check every car and pop every trunk in the place to find out if we’ve got another body on our hands?’
‘No, I don’t think he’d have made it that difficult. The genealogical wheel chart brought us here. That was the puzzle. If there is a body here, finding it should be relatively easy.’
‘You have something in mind? If you do, I’d love to hear it.’
‘Not really,’ Tayte said. ‘Just follow your procedures, I guess.’
‘Follow my procedures. Okay.’
Reese turned away and without knocking he walked into the office where the young parking attendant was already standing expectantly, no doubt having seen the FBI lettering on the jackets of Special Agents Woods and Farrier outside his window. Tayte and Mavro followed Reese into the office. The other agents waited outside.
Reese showed his badge. ‘I need to see your records for every vehicle still in this facility that’s been parked here within the last three weeks. Can you do that?’
‘Yeah, sure,’ the young man said with enthusiasm. He sat down and began tapping keys on the computer keyboard in front of him. ‘It shouldn’t take long.’
Reese turned back to Tayte and Mavro. ‘This Genie would have to be pretty dumb to leave a car here in his own name, but it’s not something we can afford to overlook.’
Tayte didn’t think they were dealing with someone of low intelligence. Quite the opposite.
‘On the other hand,’ Reese added, ‘people make mistakes, and that’s ultimately what gets them caught. Maybe we’ll find a match with one of the names on that list of yours.’
The printer behind the desk the young man was sitting at began to whir and he sprang to his feet. ‘Here it is,’ he said, snatching up the sheets of paper it had just churned out. ‘These are all monthly leases. That just means the parking space has been paid for in advance for the month, not that the car in question is currently here. The owners can come and go as they please.’ He handed the printouts to Reese, who glanced over them.
‘There must be close to three hundred names here,’ he said, scanning through them all. ‘I’ll get some copies made of your list, Mr Tayte. We can all then take a sheet apiece. It shouldn’t take too long to—’ He stopped suddenly and began to look more closely at something he’d noticed on the printout. ‘Would you believe it?’ he said. ‘Take a look at this.’ He handed one of the printouts to Tayte. ‘See anything familiar?’
Tayte did. He was staring at his own name, right there against a vehicle registration and parking bay allocation. He looked up from the printout. ‘The Genie couldn’t have left us a bigger sign than this.’
The young garage attendant’s ears pricked up. ‘The Genie?’ he said, bright eyed. ‘Is that the case you’re working on? I read about it in the paper this morning.’
Reese didn’t answer the question. Tayte had made it so obvious that he didn’t have to. He took the printout back and tapped the entry against Tayt
e’s name. ‘It would save us time if you could take us to this parking bay,’ he told the attendant.
Tayte knew which vehicle they were going to long before they got there. He’d recognised the licence plate number on the printout, and he saw the car as soon as they all left the stairwell and turned towards it. It was his car. The torch-red 1955 Ford Thunderbird stood out amidst the comparatively dull modern vehicles around it like a bright splash of paint on an empty canvas.
Tayte’s jaw dropped at the sight of it. That car was his pride and joy. He’d have known it anywhere, even without the licence plate, which he could now just about make out. It was the first car he’d bought and the only car he’d ever wanted to own.
‘That’s my car,’ he said, as if unable to fathom how it came to be there. He realised then that the Genie must have stolen it. Tayte had a rented lock-up a few blocks from his apartment. He kept it there whenever he was away on business, and he’d been away a lot lately, giving the Genie plenty of opportunity.
Tayte began to run to it, but strong arms held him back. It was Woods and Farrier.
‘Take it easy, sir,’ one of them said.
‘It could be dangerous,’ the other man added.
Reese stepped in front of them. ‘You’d better stay back,’ he said to Tayte. ‘Do you have a key?’
Tayte kept one on a key ring with the keys to his apartment. He fished in his pocket and handed it to Reese, wondering how his car could have been stolen. The lock-up where he kept it was secure and manned twenty-four seven, which is why he’d chosen the place. When he was in England earlier that year, he’d left his keys at Jean’s apartment during their visit to Germany, but Jean’s apartment was thousands of miles away.
‘He must have broken into it at the lock-up and hot-wired it,’ Tayte said. Then a chilling thought occurred to him. ‘Or he’s somehow gotten the spare key from my apartment.’ He could see no other possible explanation. He kept his only spare in a kitchen drawer at home.
Dying Games (Jefferson Tayte Genealogical Mystery Book 6) Page 5
