by James Hayman
‘What do you mean?’
‘What did you think of her?’
‘I liked her.’
‘Yeah, but what’d you think of her? I mean, did you ever talk to her?’
‘Yeah, sometimes I talked to her.’
‘What about?’
Barker shrugged. ‘Stuff.’
‘Stuff in her apartment?’
‘I didn’t go into her apartment.’
‘Well, you must have gone in there occasionally to fix things. Y’know? That kind of stuff?’
‘Yes. Occasionally.’
‘Did you go in there a lot?’
‘I said occasionally.’
‘Was Goff there when you went in?’
‘If something needed fixing, she usually told me to take care of it while she was at work. She always knew about it, though.’
‘But you did go in there?’
‘Yes. I already told you that.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’d you think of the pictures? The photographs. On the bedroom wall.’
‘They were …’ Barker paused as if he were searching for the right word to use. ‘They were … beautiful.’
‘Yeah, they were, weren’t they? Really beautiful. I thought so, too.’ Maggie smiled warmly at him.
Barker seemed to relax.
‘Did you ever talk to Lainie about the pictures?’
‘No.’ Now he looked puzzled.
‘Never discussed them with her at all?’
‘No. That would have been …’ Again Barker searched for the right word. ‘Rude. That’s what it would have been. Rude. Them being pictures of her and all.’
‘Really? Those were pictures of Goff? You’re sure? I mean, you can’t see her face or anything.’
Barker smiled. ‘I’m sure.’
‘Did Goff tell you she posed for the pictures?’
‘Let’s just say I’m sure.’
‘That is so cool.’ Maggie paused as if she were debating something. ‘You know, Andy, I’ll let you in on a little secret.’
‘What?’
She leaned forward and spoke in a near whisper. ‘I sometimes think … now, you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone.’
‘What?’
‘Nah, I probably shouldn’t be telling you personal stuff like this.’
‘No, c’mon, what?’
‘Well.’ Maggie looked left and right as if she were checking that there was no one else in the room. ‘I sometimes think I’d like to get some pictures shot of me like that. Don’t you think that’d be cool?’
Barker stared at her.
‘Too bad you never asked Lainie who the photographer was.’
‘I … I … know who it was.’
‘Really? Who?’ she asked.
‘Nancy Chu.’
‘Nancy Chu from 3R?’
‘Yup.’
‘Gee, she’s good. Do you think she’d do me?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Barker said, leaning in even closer. ‘In fact, I could probably arrange it.’ The little creep was positively radiating sexual tension.
‘Gee, that’d be great.’ Maggie leaned back again, letting the jacket fall open. ‘Just a few more things to cover, Andy, and then we can let you go home. Did you ever see anybody who didn’t live in the building going into or out of Lainie’s apartment?’
‘You mean like boyfriends?’
‘Yeah. Or other women.’
‘She sometimes had a friend of hers from New York staying with her. Janie something or other.’
‘How about guys?’
‘There were some. Sure. I keep a pretty good eye on the place, and I noticed them.’
‘Do you know any of their names?’
Barker thought about that. ‘No, I really don’t. Again, it didn’t seem like any of my business.’
‘Okay. Well, thank you, Andy.’ Maggie stood up and held out her hand. Barker shook it. ‘That’s really all we need. You’ve been a big help.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Pause. ‘Maggie.’
‘Do you need a ride home? I can have an officer give you a ride.’
‘That’s okay. I’ll just catch a cab.’
Maggie watched him go. She waited until the elevator doors closed in front of him before turning and going into interview room number two, where an Asian woman was sitting at the table waiting for her.
Twenty-Four
At ten thirty on a Saturday night, the fourth floor at 109 was quiet, overhead lights dimmed to semidarkness, a feeling of loneliness about the place. McCabe came back to the office after leaving Wolfe’s because he needed somewhere to go that wasn’t his empty apartment. Here, at least, there was work to be done. A small lamp on Maggie’s desk was lit. That and the glow from her computer screen threw twin circles of cold light across her face. She was hunched over, fingers dancing across the keyboard. He pulled up a chair and watched.
‘Hi,’ he said after a minute.
‘Hold on a sec,’ she said, not looking up. ‘Just want to finish this. Okay. There.’ She looked up. ‘Hi.’
‘Where is everybody?’
‘Tasco’s still out on Harts with Jacobi and the ETs. I told everyone else to go home to their wives, girlfriends, and kiddies. Get a good night’s sleep. Start fresh in the morning.’
‘How about you? Aren’t you tired, too?’
‘Me? Haven’t you heard? I’m Superwoman. Besides, I don’t have a wife to go home to.’ She leaned back. ‘Sometimes I think,’ she said, stretching and yawning, ‘that that’s what I really need. A wife.’
‘And kiddies?’
‘Maybe someday. What brings you back to Happy Valley?’
‘Work, I guess. Plus, at the moment, I don’t have anyone to go home to either. Casey’s at Sunday River with a friend. Kyra’s decided to wait out the murder at her own place.’
‘How come?’
‘Apparently I’m not much fun to be around when there’s a killer on the loose.’
Maggie smiled. ‘She may have something there. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I was going to call you. Found out some stuff you’ll need to know, and I didn’t want to interrupt you at Wolfe’s.’
‘Okay. You want some coffee first?’ he asked. ‘I can put on a fresh pot.’
‘Nah, I don’t think so.’
‘I’ll make you some anyway. That way you won’t be stealing most of mine.’
He walked down to the small kitchen alcove at the end of the hall just across from the conference room. Maggie followed and watched as he poured out the dregs of the old pot made hours ago and now as thick as sludge. He tossed the grounds and washed out the pot. Then he poured in cold water and measured out coffee into a fresh filter. He could feel her presence behind him, leaning against the wall.
‘Never thought of you as being domestic,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘Oh yeah,’ he said, ‘a real homeboy.’ He flipped the switch on the Mr Coffee. The machine started making gurgling noises. He turned. She stood in the shadows watching him, her long body nearly as tall as his own, less than two feet away. He caught her scent. Eau de cop? No. Something sexier. A lot sexier.
‘It’s not a good idea,’ she said.
‘What isn’t?’
‘What you’re thinking.’
He smiled. The Maggie radar. Always on target. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It’s not. As you once noted yourself, I’m taken.’
‘Yes. You are.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Don’t be. Kyra’s a terrific woman.’ The Mr Coffee made hissing noises indicating the brewing cycle was finished. ‘Why don’t you pour us some coffee?’
They went into the conference room, flipped on the bright overhead fluorescents, and sat at opposite ends of the long table.
‘Alright,’ he said, ‘now what is it you think I should know about?’
‘I’m pretty sure Barker’s been eavesdropping on Goff’s apartment. At least an audio bug. I think vid
eo as well.’
‘Hidden cameras?’
‘Knowing the guy, yes. He’s the perfect peeping-tom type. Horny. Afraid of women. Afraid of rejection. Probably been ignored or dumped on by every woman who ever laid eyes on him. Then Goff turns up. She’s at work all day, and he has a key to her apartment. How could he resist?’
‘What are you basing this on?’
‘I brought Barker in for an interview. Sat him down. He couldn’t take his eyes off my chest.’
McCabe smiled. ‘It’s a very nice chest.’
‘Try to restrain yourself. Anyway, between Andy sneaking peeks, I managed to wheedle out of him that the photographer of the shots on Lainie’s wall was Nancy Chu.’
‘Of the 3R Chus?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is Chu a professional photographer?’
‘No. She’s a software engineer. Says photography’s her hobby but she’s passionate about it.’
‘She’s also talented.’
‘Yes, she is. Apparently Chu and Lainie became friendly about a year ago. She told Lainie about her interest in photography. Lainie asked to see her work. She showed her the industrial shots. Lainie bought the six that are hanging in the apartment. Then she asked Nancy if she’d be interested in photographing her in the nude. Nancy told me she always wanted to try figure work. Lainie made a gorgeous model. So Nancy said sure.’
‘How does Barker know Chu took the shots?’
‘How indeed? The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. I had Chu in for an interview right after Barker left. She’s positive Lainie wouldn’t have told him. She only posed on the condition that Chu keep it all absolutely confidential. She also went to some lengths to make sure her face was hidden in the nude shots. Plus, Andy himself told me, more than once, Lainie never said a word to him about the photographs.’
‘Chu didn’t let it slip somehow?’
‘She says not. She said yes, she took the pictures at Lainie’s request, but no, she never said anything to Barker or anyone else about it. In fact, Chu is sure she never even mentioned her interest in photography to Barker. She finds the guy creepy and doesn’t talk to him. Never talks about personal things. She won’t let him into her apartment unless her husband is there.’
‘Did he ever see similar pix hanging in the Chus’ apartment?’
‘There aren’t any nudes. Chu said she does have a couple of the industrial shots hanging there, but they’re not signed, and she insists there’s no way Barker would know she took them.’
‘Where were the two of them when Goff asked her to take the photos?’
‘In Goff’s apartment.’
‘Did you ask Barker how he knew Nancy Chu took the pictures?’
‘No. I didn’t want to tip him off about what I suspected about hidden mikes or cameras.’
‘What do you think Barker was doing last night when I caught him with his flashlight and tool belt?’
‘I think he went up to Goff’s to remove his cameras and mikes before we found them.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yes. I did a little digging and discovered Andy used to work for a specialty electronics outfit. His job was doing high-end video installations. Getting the right stuff and putting it in would have been right up his alley.’
‘Jacobi didn’t sweep the place for bugs or hidden cameras last night?’
‘Nope. We never thought about it.’
‘So, assuming Barker records what he sees, he may have some pictures of whoever it was who tossed Lainie’s apartment.’
‘Yeah. Among other things.’
‘And if there are videos, they’re in his apartment?’
‘I would think so.’
‘Did you get some people over to sweep Goff’s apartment for the equipment?’
‘No. I want to wait until we have a warrant to search his place as well. If he knows we found the cameras, he’ll destroy any videos he has hidden away in a New York minute.’
‘Wouldn’t he have destroyed them already?’
‘I don’t think so. If he has videos of Lainie, I think they’ll be precious to him. He won’t want to get rid of them. Especially now that she’s dead. He’ll just hide them away really well. Still, I have a uniform watching the apartment for any late-night visits to the dump. Or anywhere else, for that matter.’
‘You requested a search warrant?’
‘Judge Krickstein has the affidavit now. Said he wanted to sleep on it but he’d get back to me first thing in the morning.’
‘Okay,’ said McCabe. ‘Anything else I should know about?’
Maggie slid a black-and-white photo across the table. ‘Kyle Lanahan,’ she said. ‘The hot-dog man. Tasco brought him in for a chat.’
McCabe looked down at a mug shot of a good-looking man in his mid- to late forties. Gray hair. Straight features. Probably a real ladies’ man. ‘Anything?’
‘Nah, I don’t think so. That pic’s about five years old. He did a little time for burglary. Now he sells hot dogs for a living and presumably coke. Both kinds. Anyway, he’s got airtight alibis for both the twenty-third and last Tuesday. Tommy doesn’t think he’s our guy. Neither do I.’
McCabe nodded. ‘Okay. What else?’
‘Sturgis talked to the cleaning crew. Three men. Three women. All Muslim. He needed an interpreter to help with some of them.’
‘How’d he do?’
‘So-so. Five out of the six gave us nothing. Number six tried to be helpful. She’s a Somali woman named’ – she checked her notes, then read out the name slowly – ‘Magol Gutaale Abtidoon. Ms Abtidoon said she noticed someone coming in with them wearing a heavy coat with a hood on his head. All she could see of him was his glasses. Heavy black frames, she said.’
‘Kelly wears glasses like that.’
‘He didn’t have any on in the party photo.’
‘He did when I spoke to him. Let’s show Ms Abitoon some pictures of Kelly plus some other men with black glasses. Maybe something will click.’
‘Okay. How’d you do with Dr Wolfe?’
‘It was an interesting conversation. He said she has no friends he’s aware of. Has no idea where she might be hiding. He thought she might have gone to Sanctuary House. Thinks we ought to search the place. I don’t think so. Kelly said she wasn’t there. I don’t think he was lying, because too many people would have seen her there.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. He wondered if Abby might not have killed Goff herself.’
Maggie frowned, considering the possibility just as McCabe had earlier. After a minute she said, ‘I don’t think so.’
‘I didn’t either. Let’s hear your reasoning.’
‘Okay, Abby’s schizophrenic, and yes, schizophrenics do sometimes go off the deep end, but there’s no way Abby would have done it the way it was done. A neat little hole carefully placed in the back of the neck? Carting the victim back and forth to the mainland on the ferry? Leaving notes from Amos in her mouth? No way. Forget it.’
‘Great minds think alike. I didn’t give Wolfe all those details, but if I did, I think even he would agree.’
‘Is that it?’
‘No.’ McCabe slid the photo from the party down the table to her. ‘See that tall guy in the middle?’
‘What about him?’
‘That’s Todd Markham. According to Wolfe, Goff knew him well enough to hit him up for a big donation to Sanctuary House just before Christmas. Goff and Kelly closed the deal.’
‘How does Wolfe know about it?’
‘He’s on the Sanctuary House board. So was Goff.’
‘How big was the donation?’
‘Ten thousand dollars big.’
‘Not bad.’
‘Not bad at all.’
‘You suppose she was sleeping with Markham, too?’
‘It occurred to me. She was killed in Markham’s house.’
‘Well, I know Markham’s not the killer. His story checks out six ways to Sunday.’
&nb
sp; ‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. Both his clients separately confirmed they had dinner with him in Chicago Tuesday night. Markham paid for the meal with his American Express Platinum card, and AmEx has a record of the charge. Later, at exactly 11:17 P.M. Central time, 12:17 Eastern, about the time Abby Quinn was running away from her monster and forty-five minutes or so before she woke up Bowman, Markham ordered a nightcap in the hotel bar. A Macallan single malt, by the way, which cost him fifteen bucks plus tip. You have expensive tastes, McCabe.’
‘Just an educated palate.’
They both sat silently for a moment, weighing the possibilities. ‘On the other hand, Markham did tell you, did he not, that Isabella sometimes comes up to Harts Island in the winter when he’s away on business?’
‘Yes, he did. And if he was sleeping with Goff –’
‘And gave ten thousand dollars to Sanctuary House in consideration of that relationship –’
‘And Isabella found out about it –’
‘Could the seventh person on the Monument Square video have been a woman?’
‘Possible. Of course, Abby told Bowman she saw a man.’
‘Yes, but Abby hallucinates. We both know that.’
‘Okay. Let’s get the Markhams up here for prints, DNA, and a discussion.’
McCabe waited while Maggie made the call.
Twenty-Five
Murder/suicide seemed the simplest solution. Quick. Clean. Easy. Two fat birds with one deadly stone. The cops’d buy it. Why wouldn’t they? A pair of crazies. One known to be suicidal, under enormous stress, and, as it turned out, carrying a loaded gun. How would the papers report it? SCHIZOPHRENIC WOMAN SLAYS FRIEND, TURNS GUN ON SELF? Yes, that sounded good. In the darkness of the living room, the rest of the story played out in the killer’s mind.
Following an anonymous tip phoned in to the Press Herald early this morning, police went to an apartment at 131 Summer Street in Portland, where they found the bodies of two women, Leanna Barnes, 31, of Portland, an inventory clerk at Seamon’s Plumbing Supply in South Portland, and Abigail Quinn, 25, of Harts Island. Ms Quinn worked as a waitress at the Crow’s Nest Restaurant on the island.
In a late-morning press conference, Portland police chief Thomas A. Shockley told reporters that Ms Barnes’s body was found in the apartment’s lone bedroom lying on the bed. She had been fatally shot with a .22 caliber pistol, possibly while sleeping. Ms Quinn’s body was found next to her. According to Chief Shockley, Ms Quinn apparently shot Ms Barnes twice and then took her own life with a single shot to the head, fired from the same weapon. He said evidence technicians had found gunshot residue both on Ms Quinn’s hand and on her head. ‘That pretty well seals it,’ said Shockley.
