Third Chances

by Dan Petrosini

  The snap the technician’s glove made as he pulled it on focused me on the matters at hand. He placed the gun in a special hood and filled a container with liquid superglue. The specialist closed the door to the hood and dialed up the heat.

  I took a step closer to the unit, looking for any white spots that would form from the oils left by a fingerprint. I cupped my hands around my eyes and leaned in. There didn’t seem to be anything white forming.

  The technician said, “It looks like it was wiped clean.”

  “Can you do anything more?”

  “It’s always tough to recover good prints from a firearm given the textured grips. You see that spot, on the right side of the barrel?”

  Squinting, I saw the tiniest speck of white. “Barely.”

  “I’ll brush it and see if it can be enhanced, but I think it’s a waste of time.”

  Haines said, “Forget it. best you’re gonna get is a partial, and a good defense attorney will tear it apart. Let’s move to the ballistics.”

  He was right, but he wouldn’t hear it from me.

  The technician shut the machine down and went over the gun with a magnifier. “Nothing to work with. Let’s go to the tank.”

  The basement had a musty smell. I got closer to Vargas, hoping her perfume would act as a counterbalance. A twenty-foot-long steel tank, shining under the fluorescent lighting, was the only thing in the room. The hood of the three-foot-wide vessel was up and the water inside clear.

  There were only two pairs of earmuffs on the wall, and I grabbed a pair, followed by the tech. Haines said, “We’ll wait outside.”

  When the steel door slammed behind Vargas and Haines, the technician put the barrel of the gun into an angled shaft.

  A splash of water rose as the gun cracked. The tech retrieved the bullet with a basket, and after hanging our ear protection back on the wall, we left.

  ***

  Vargas pulled me back and whispered, “I don’t know why we’re wasting time watching all this. We should be preparing arrest documents.”

  “What are you talking about? We can’t let him hijack this.”

  “He said he was taking a back seat.”

  “Yeah, and you believe him?”

  “That’s what he told me.”

  “Yeah, what else did he tell you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

  “What are you talking about, Frank?”

  “Forget it, okay? just forget it.”

  “You wanna waste your time—go for it. I’m going back to the office.”

  She was starting to piss me off. I was looking forward to Kayla coming into town. Shake things up. I didn’t need this bullshit.

  ***

  I wasn’t in the laboratory when the doctors were looking at the slides of my cancer, but I couldn’t imagine them putting in more effort than this guy was. He was moving between two large microscopes and a tablet that he tapped notes into.

  My ass was killing me from the stainless-steel stool, and it was cold in here. The only good thing was Haines had given up on me and went to get a bite to eat.

  Finally, the tech pushed his stool back and got up, nodding. “No doubt it’s a match. These bullets came from the same gun.”

  “Are you sure there’s enough consecutive matches?”

  “I said, no doubt.”

  “Humor me, will you? This is a big case. What makes you so sure?”

  “First off, there’s the left-hand twist which only Colts have. And there are enough striations that line up. They’re clean, and there is a minimum of six sets of consecutive matches.”

  That was more than enough to withstand an attack by F. Lee Bailey. “How quick can we get a report?”

  “I can get a preliminary to you in an hour. But the full one is not going to be until, say, noon tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. Email it to me as soon as the prelim is ready.”

  It was damn near midnight when I sent a text to Vargas that the gun was a match.

  Chapter 29

  We sat around the fake stone table in Chester’s office. The sheriff, in jeans and a red polo shirt, looked fresher than any of us. Haines, white sleeves rolled up and clothes wrinkled, hadn’t said much before DA Thume arrived.

  With the district attorney seated between Chester and me, Haines began pushing for an arrest of Hannah Booth, claiming the evidence provided solid ground to charge her in the death of Joseph Chapman.

  DA Thume asked, “Are you considering filing federal charges?”

  “No, no. This is the sheriff’s case. We’re only offering assistance.”

  The DA said, “We have enough to press charges in the Chapman murder, but I’ll leave the decision to proceed to the sheriff.”

  Chester looked at me. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t believe arresting her is the way to play this. We’ve got four homicides to solve, and at this point only a connection on one of them to Hannah. We need more. We should talk to her before making an arrest.”

  Haines said, “You’re not going to get anything more out of her by not filing charges. Either way, she’s going to have representation.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “Did you forget we conducted a search? They’re going to be defensive.”

  What a revelation. Talking to the law makes everyone defensive. “With the press coverage of the search, maybe a tip will come in. It’s possible she’s being framed.”

  Haines stifled a chuckle. “I’m sure she’ll say that. Why not arrest her; pressure her; see if she cracks? If she’s not guilty it’ll come out eventually.”

  An image of the Barrow kid swinging from his cell sent a shudder through me, prompting Thume to say, “It is cold in here.”

  I said, “Sir, I don’t have to remind everyone about how this will look if the minister’s wife is arrested, and there’s insufficient evidence.”

  Haines said, “Hold on. We’re totally within protocol. The murder weapon was found in her office and her hair on a victim’s body.”

  Looking at the sheriff, I said, “If it’s really our case to handle, my call is to hold off. Let me interview her.”

  The sheriff said, “Look, it’s late. I really appreciate everyone’s input and dedication. Hannah’s under surveillance. Nothing’s going to change overnight. I say we sleep on it, wait till morning before deciding how to proceed.”

  ***

  Vargas said she’d be in later; her stomach was still bothering her. Of all the days she had to be sick. I needed to talk things through, now I’d have to figure this out on my own. Grabbing my coffee and bagel, I stepped into the humidity, hoping she’d make it in before noon.

  Balancing my coffee, I unlocked the door to our office when my name was called.

  “Luca, got a strange call last night on the Aquatic case.”

  “Strange? I don’t like the way that sounds, Tommy.”

  “A guy called last night claiming that Hannah had been having an affair with both Chapman and Cornwall.”

  “Shit!” Hot coffee spilled on my hand.

  “Got the shakes?”

  “Yeah, right. Tell me about the call.”

  “About eleven fifteen this guy calls in. Montgomery said he sounded like he had a cloth over the mouthpiece. He said the minister’s wife was having sex with two of the guys who got killed, Joe Chapman and Dick Cornwall.”

  “Anonymous?”

  “Yep.”

  “Montgomery have any idea of the age of the caller?”

  “Best guess was twenty-five to fifty.”

  “Tell him thanks for narrowing it down for me. Anything else?”

  “Nada.”

  The chessboard just got jostled. I needed a sounding board.

  “Vargas, how you feeling?”

  She said, “Pretty much the same. I don’t know if I’m gonna make it in.”

  “Maybe
you should go to the doctor, then.”

  “I’ll see if it gets better today.”

  “Don’t wait till it’s too late, like me. it could be—”

  “What, do you think it’s something serious, like cancer?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. Just go to the doctor, will you?”

  “It’ll probably pass. What’s going on with the case? Did Chester make a decision yet?”

  “No, and it’s just gotten more complicated. After the search, a call came in to the tip line last night. This guy tells Montgomery that Hannah was having affairs with both Chapman and Cornwall.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “It’s nuts. I don’t know if I buy it, but if it’s true, a whole world of possibilities opens up.”

  “You don’t think Minister Booth found out and—”

  Damn, that never entered my mind. “Don’t think so, but can’t rule it out. More likely, she was playing around with not only these two but others and somebody got jealous.”

  “I don’t know; more likely, Hannah killed them to prevent the affairs from becoming public.”

  “I know women, and I don’t believe it.”

  “Oh, so you know women?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “Come on, I’m just saying that something’s telling me it wasn’t her.”

  “Since you know so much about women, you must be right, then.”

  “Can we not do this? Can we talk about the case?”

  “We need to check out the call. See if there is anything to Hannah being unfaithful. She may say something if we can promise confidentiality.”

  “You want to ask her about it?”

  “I know you think you know women, but I’m a woman, and we girls tell each other things we’d never tell a man. I gotta run to the bathroom.”

  I said a little something to make a point, and Mary Ann goes and makes a big, damn thing about it. What’s up with that? Geez, maybe she was getting too comfortable with me. If this was how it was going to be, I didn’t know if it was for me.

  Was she gonna make it in today? Maybe it was her stomach making her bitchy. When I wasn’t feeling good I probably wasn’t fun to be around either. My desk phone rang.

  “Frank, I’ve decided to hold off on arresting Hannah Booth. I’ll give you more time to build a stronger case against her. We’ve got to be certain on this one.”

  Just this one? If she wasn’t the wife of a minister she’d be in the can now. “I think it’s the right call, Sheriff. We have a couple of pieces of information that just came in and need vetting.”

  “Good. Keep me apprised.”

  I grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair. “Sure thing.”

  “I’m counting on you, Frank. I don’t have to tell you the pressure this office is under.”

  “Don’t worry, sir. I’ve got it.”

  Stopped at a light at Livingston Road I called Mary Ann again to see how she was feeling. She was still sick and promised to see a doctor. I told her that Chester was holding off on the arrest and that I was on my way to see Hannah.

  Chapter 30

  “He’s got the Whole World in His Hands” was playing in the all-purpose room, where a half a dozen people, including Minister Booth, were working. People were taking cans of food out of large laundry carts and bagging them. Minister Booth was carrying a loaded bag to a table covered with brown bags when I caught his eye. He pulled his lips in, set the load down and headed toward me.

  “Hello, Detective Luca.” He extended a hand. “It’s nice to see you, but I believe I made it clear that future conversations go through our attorney, Marcus Knight.”

  I shook his hand. “I understand, but if you would give me a minute, I can explain.”

  “That was a very unpleasant episode last night. The congregation is upset.”

  “It wasn’t us. That was the FBI, and they never consulted with us.”

  “Really? Are you saying you had no prior knowledge about the warrant?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “I’ll accept that at face value.”

  “Thank you. it’s true.”

  Booth looked over his shoulder and said, “As you can see, we’re busy. Quite a few parishioners are staying away, given the controversy, so I’ve got to get help, even more than usual. What is on your mind?”

  “I hope you can hear me out.”

  “Go ahead, Detective.”

  “As the search last night proved, your wife is a suspect, and now, finding the gun makes her a stronger suspect. frankly, the only one. I’ll admit I had my suspicions about her, but I no longer think she had anything to do with it.”

  “And what caused this change of heart?”

  “This may sound strange to you, Minister, but first and foremost—my instinct. Something isn’t right, and I have ideas about what that is, but it’s early.”

  “That’s not strange to a man of God. Many of our feelings are actually communications from God. People call them by other names, like your conscious speaking or coincidences, but it’s God. What else were you going to say?”

  “There’s been a couple of pieces of new information.”

  “That’ll clear up the confusion about Hannah?”

  “I hope so. But I’d like to speak with her, alone.”

  “She won’t agree to talk without me present.”

  “You can convince Hannah that it’s in her best interests to talk with me. It really is, Minister. There are no games being played here.”

  “I’m a man of God and a man of my word. I’ll assume you’re also a man who keeps his word.”

  ***

  Framed by cross-shaped earrings, Hannah Booth’s face had a sour look.

  “I don’t know why we agreed to this, especially after last night.”

  “We had nothing to do with that.”

  She rolled her blue eyes, which didn’t appear as stunning as usual. Maybe the spinster bun her blond hair was pulled into had dimmed them.

  “It’s true. It was the FBI.”

  “Whatever.”

  I wondered if lying to a minister’s wife made the sin of lying worse. “In spite of what you may believe, I never considered you a viable suspect.”

  Hannah grunted as she shifted in her seat but said nothing more.

  “Look, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I’m here to help you.”

  Another silent, though shorter, eye roll.

  “I’m gonna be straight with you, and you need to be straight with me, or I can’t help you. You got that?”

  She shrugged and looked at her nails. I wanted to choke the bitch.

  “Last night, a tip came in to the hotline.” I studied her closely. “The caller claimed that you had affairs with Joseph Chapman and Dick Cornwall.”

  She blinked and shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?”

  “Of course, it is. I never had an affair with either of them, or anyone, for that matter. It’s against God’s word. A violation of his commandments.”

  “Did you ever flirt with either of them?”

  “What kind of woman do you think I am, Detective? The book of Exodus, chapter twenty, ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.’” Hannah leaned forward. “I don’t conduct myself in a flirtatious manner. And for the record, I love my husband.”

  On a scale of one to ten, the denial was close to a ten, but I’d seen guys with pants around their ankles deny they cheated on their wives. She threw that Bible verse as if it were an independent confirmation.

  “Mrs. Booth, I’m a homicide detective. I’ve seen it all, and I don’t care what people do, so long as they aren’t creating corpses. I just want to help you and solve this case, so I’ll ask you again. Did you ever have an affair or sexual relations of any kind, even Bill Clinton’s type, with either Chapman or Cornwall?”
>
  “It sounds like you’re saying that admitting to an affair would help clear my name. Well, if it would, I couldn’t admit to something I never did.”

  Okay, her denial was a ten. “Understood. Now, about the gun, the Colt .45 seized from this office last night. Was that your gun?”

  She arched her back, “No. I’ve never owned a gun or even shot one.”

  Interesting. People who shoot usually say fired a gun not shot a gun. “Never? Not at a gun range, as a kid? Some uncle, letting you get a thrill?”

  “Never. Weapons kill. The world would be a better place if we didn’t have guns.”

  I wanted to ask her why God didn’t interfere, preventing humans from inventing firearms, but I had an interview to conduct. I asked, “Do you have any idea how this gun ended up in your office?”

  “I don’t know. I was shocked last night. I still can’t believe it.”

  “Any possibilities you can think of?”

  “Only one that makes sense—for some reason, I’m being framed.”

  “It’s a possibility. Who do you think could be behind something like that?”

  “I don’t know. Someone is trying to ruin my reputation.”

  “Do you or your husband have any enemies?”

  “No, no. Gabriel is the kind of man you could never dislike.”

  She was right. If he told someone to go to hell, they’d ask him for directions.

  “I know it’s a sore subject, but could it be something to do with a disagreement in the way the church was run?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t imagine that a disagreement over our mission could lead to something like this. That would be crazy.”

  She needed more exposure to the human condition. “People can get passionate, lose control, and rationalize the strangest things.”

  “I guess anything is possible, but I haven’t a clue who it could be.”

  “Think further back. Is there something that happened, or someone you had an argument with—anything like that? People have held on to slights, perceived or real, for decades before taking action. Is there anyone you can think of?”

  She leaned a cheek on a palm. “Nothing comes to mind. I’ve been through some very difficult times in my life. My son; he was hooked on drugs and died from an overdose.” She took a sharp breath through her nose. “People made all kinds of accusations that amounted to slander. At the time, I thought I’d never recover, but through God’s grace I did. Now, I’ve got to get through this.”