Malice

by C. M. Sutter

  “Fine. Expect me in a half hour.”

  I grinned at Hardy as he clicked off speakerphone and ended the call. I nudged J.T. in the arm. “We better put our thinking caps on. We’re going to bombard him with questions the second he sits down.”

  “Yeah”—Hardy chuckled—“and he thinks he’s the one running the show.”

  “You’ve listened to his taped interview, right, Cap? What’s your impression of him?”

  “To be frank, he sounds like an arrogant asshole.”

  “Just the kind of guy I’m attracted to.” I gave Hardy a wink. “Have we gotten back his company and personal tax records yet?”

  “Yes, and our legal accountants have been going over everything for the last hour. One red flag and we’re pulling all of his taxes for the last ten years.”

  “How about other business transactions unrelated to real estate? Isn’t his corporation called Scenic View Holdings? That can imply more than one business,” I said. “I bet Spelling can get people on that faster than we can. He has more of a reach than we do here.”

  J.T. spoke up. “I’ll give him a call. Maybe he can access the business bank records too. There may be something deeper going on that Stewart is hiding behind a shell corporation.”

  J.T. walked out into the hallway and made the call.

  Hardy smirked. “During Stewart’s interview Wednesday night, he said everybody loved him and he didn’t have any enemies.”

  “It sounds like he was trying too hard. Maybe to throw your detective off?”

  “Possibly.”

  J.T. returned to Hardy’s office. “Spelling said he was on it. He’ll get back to us as soon as he knows something.”

  I checked the time. “Stewart will be here soon. We need to conduct this interview in one of the interrogation rooms. Make up some bull about the guest chairs being replaced in your office. It’s the only way to get him on audio and video. I want to see this guy sweat. Whether it was deliberate or not, he’s done something to piss somebody off that has set this killing spree in motion.”

  Minutes later, Hardy’s desk phone rang. “It’s showtime, agents,” he said before answering the call. “Hello, Dana. Yep, we’re on our way. Escort Mr. Stewart to interrogation room number one. We’ll be down in a few minutes, and I’ll explain to him why the interview is taking place in there.” The captain pushed back his chair and rounded his desk. “Shall we?”

  We took the hallway to the elevators. I continued on to the stairwell.

  “What are you doing?” J.T. asked.

  “I need some exercise. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Once I got there, I waited for the elevator doors to open. J.T. raised his brows when he saw me. “Damn, you must have sprinted down those stairs. Do you need a drink of water before we do this?”

  “Hell no, I’m fine. Why don’t you go in first, Cap? We’ll watch for a few minutes through the glass. I want to see what kind of personality we’ll be dealing with before we walk in.”

  “Sure thing, Jade.”

  Captain Hardy entered the room, and J.T. and I took seats on the other side of the one-way mirror. I reached up and turned on the volume control knob.

  J.T. whispered. “It’s crazy how many people have already been interviewed, yet we don’t have a single lead.”

  “Things might turn around tonight. I’m thinking it’s all about him.” I pointed at the snobby looking blond guy on the other side of the glass.

  We listened as Hardy took a seat with his back facing us. “Thanks for coming in, William.”

  “You can call me Mr. Stewart.”

  “No problem, and you can call me Captain Hardy.”

  “Isn’t there a more fitting place for two people of equal stature to conduct a conversation?”

  “No, and we aren’t of equal stature. I enforce the law, and you, Mr. Stewart, might be someone with a questionable reputation.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  I stood. “Hardy jumped the gun. Let’s get inside.” I grabbed my notepad and exited the observation room with J.T. behind me.

  “Hang on, Jade. My phone is buzzing.” J.T. reached in his pocket and dug out his phone then jerked his head toward the observation room. “It’s Spelling. Let’s sit in here so nobody hears me talk in the hallway.” J.T. picked up and clicked over to speakerphone as he closed the door behind him. “Hey, boss, Jade is here with me. Do you have anything on Stewart?”

  “I haven’t had time to dig thoroughly yet, but I know he’s on his way in.”

  I spoke up. “He’s already here, sir.”

  “Hi, Jade.”

  “Boss.”

  “At the moment we haven’t found anything that would, under normal conditions, warrant murder, but of course everyone has different triggers that can set them off. Mr. Stewart is known to be a heavy gambler and has been fined several times for illegal sports betting. He has a bad temper and thinks everyone should bow down to him.”

  I nodded. “It’s that arrogance thing Hardy spoke of.”

  “Most likely. We’ve pulled up several police reports from Kansas City, where he used to live, that show he’s spent a few months in the local jail for battery.”

  “There has to be something more substantial than that. He’s wronged someone or some company, and they want to ruin him. Maybe he blackmailed the mob, and this is how they’re retaliating,” J.T. said.

  “Then why not kill him instead of innocent people?”

  I responded. “We don’t know yet, boss. How long would it take to find all of his holdings? Some could be shell companies hiding illegal activities. Maybe this perp wants to take him down one business at a time.”

  “It would take several weeks, probably. See what you can learn about him tonight. Meanwhile, I’d suggest somebody pulling all of his homes for sale off the MLS listings. Maybe the homeowners can stay with other people until we figure this out.”

  “Okay, sir. We better get in there and help Captain Hardy.”

  “Keep me posted, agents.”

  I swung open the door to the interrogation room and walked through. J.T. followed.

  “What’s this?” Stewart asked.

  “The correct way to form that question, Mr. Stewart, would be ‘Who’s this?’ and I’m happy to introduce myself and my partner. I’m Agent Jade Monroe with the Serial Crimes Division of the FBI, and my partner here is Agent J.T. Harper.”

  “Serial crimes and the FBI? What the hell are you talking about?”

  I took a seat across from him. “What’s going on in your company, and why is somebody after you?”

  “Nobody is after me. You’ve watched too many cop shows on TV.”

  “Got a gambling problem?” J.T. asked. “Maybe you had to cover your bets and the mob is involved. Did you forget to pay them back and now they’re going after your companies?”

  “Companies?”

  “Yeah, we know you have more than one. Scenic View Holdings kind of gives a plural implication,” Hardy said.

  Stewart jerked his chin toward the captain. “I’m here to talk about the slanderous name the media has given the killer. It’s going to ruin my real estate company. It was on the local news, and I’m sure every person in Omaha is calling him the Scenic View Serial Killer. I’m surprised they don’t go all out and call him the Scenic View Slasher. Something like that would really send a visual message.”

  “Well, that’s true, but law enforcement didn’t reveal the manner of death. Why would you insert that particular word?” J.T. asked.

  “I don’t know, because it sounds good. I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know shit.”

  I added my two cents. “The media probably thought the words ‘serial killer’ could imply there are many more murders to come. It’s meant to put the community on edge, which equals more people tuning in to the news stations. They’re interested in ratings, nothing more.”

  “We haven’t watched that news broadcast yet, but we certainly will che
ck it out. Meanwhile, back to why we’re sitting in on this interview,” Hardy said.

  Stewart huffed his impatience. “Oh yes, and why is that again?”

  J.T. spoke up. “Who is sending you a message and why? We don’t have time for fairy tales. We know your real estate business is just one of many companies you own, so start talking.”

  “Fine. I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing. That doesn’t mean these killings are coming from anybody I know, but I haven’t been completely aboveboard, either. I guess I’ve pissed off some heavy hitters.” Stewart took a gulp of water and let out a sigh.

  I leaned back and grinned at Hardy. “Does the vending machine sell popcorn?”

  Chapter 27

  It was dark by the time Ed put the finishing touches on the painted sign. He’d let it dry overnight, install the hooks tomorrow, then search for another home seller. His deeds would have to be done under cover of darkness from now on. Too many police had been patrolling the residential neighborhoods.

  He pulled the string attached to the overhead bulb, and the shed went black. Only the light shining from the cottage’s porch illuminated his way as he crossed the driveway to the front door. Inside the house, Ed woke up his laptop and clicked on Google Maps. He’d blindside a neighboring city while all eyes were watching Omaha.

  Bellevue might work. The city is definitely large enough. Let’s see how many houses are for sale in the area.

  Ed entered the words homes for sale in Bellevue, Nebraska in the search bar and browsed the results.

  “Perfect, there’s plenty to choose from. Now to pick the next victim and make a real statement.”

  With the PeopleSeeker tab open, Ed typed in several home addresses. He had time to be particular in choosing a victim. His next attack wouldn’t take place until well after dark.

  Chapter 28

  William Stewart took a deep breath and cracked his neck from left to right. A glass of water sat on the table next to him, and he’d need it. He had a lot of explaining to do.

  “Before you start, Mr. Stewart, I just want you to know everything you say is being recorded and videotaped,” I said.

  He nodded with a groan. “Whatever. I don’t know what you expect to get from me.”

  “How about the truth?” Hardy said. “This isn’t some kindergarten prank, Mr. Stewart. People are being murdered, and we need to put a stop to it. If you’ve participated in any wrongdoing and have been threatened because of it, we need to know right now.”

  “Who hasn’t done less than legal things?” He looked at J.T.

  “You’re really looking at me? I’m an FBI agent, moron.”

  I had to hold my laughter.

  “Fine, I’ve had gambling debts that I’ve borrowed against, but I swear, they’ve been paid off with over-the-top penalties attached. A year ago I began to invite big-time players to invest in real estate holdings I had assembled. The plan was to get people to invest their money in these holdings that I had bought for deeply discounted prices. I’d make improvements and then flip them for double the price that I’d paid. Everyone would make money.”

  “Yeah, people flip properties all the time. What was so different about yours?” J.T. asked.

  “None of them really existed. All of the documents were fake. The pictures I sent the investors were random lots and homes that I didn’t really buy. I had attorneys, bankers, inspectors, and title companies in my pocket, and they were getting big bucks to falsify the documents. I’d pay the oldest investors with the newest investors’ money. Because they got great returns, they’d recommend my company to their friends, and the money pool grew exponentially.”

  “Is your middle name Bernie?”

  He glared at me. “The problem is, I don’t know who I pissed off the most. Anybody involved in my scheme could be doing this, or none of them. I’m only guessing.”

  “You’ve received threats, though, haven’t you?” Hardy asked.

  “No, and none of this has come to light publicly. I want to pay people back and keep my reputation intact. If my real estate business is ruined, I’d have to sell all of my other businesses to raise capital.”

  I shrugged. “It sucks to be you. Maybe you would rather go to prison? Ponzi schemes are a federal crime, you know. You’ll probably serve time no matter what when this is all said and done.”

  J.T. pushed a piece of paper and a pen across the table. “Start writing down the names of people or companies that invested in your scheme. We want the largest investors first. Also, what’s the name of your fake company?”

  “Wipast Holdings.”

  “What the hell does that stand for?” J.T. asked.

  “It’s just an acronym, nothing more.”

  I got up and walked to the door. “I need to update Spelling.”

  J.T. pointed at the table as he and Hardy rose too. “Keep working on that list. We’ll be back soon.”

  We headed to Hardy’s office and met up with Andrews and Tyler in the hallway.

  “Beth Sloane and Tara Lamar’s interviews are done, and they’ve both gone home, sir,” Andrews said.

  “Did you learn any more than what was on their initial statements?”

  “I’d have to compare them side by side. All Beth added was that the Kings were well liked and often got together with the neighbors in the clubhouse to play cards and board games. Most of those activities were held during the daytime hours. That’s why she thought it odd that their porch light was on that night. They rarely went out or had people in after dark.”

  Hardy looked at Brad Tyler. “What about Tara?”

  “She’s a mess, but she said Jackie is tough. She’s holding out for the best and praying that Jackie will be found alive. She didn’t have anything new to add other than she and all of her friends would like to help in the foot search.”

  “Where are we on that?”

  “It’s in the preliminary stages, sir. We’re setting up search grids from her house outward. It isn’t like there are rural areas nearby, though. Jackie’s house is in the middle of a residential neighborhood, but there’s plenty of vacant land to the south. The perp could have taken her out of the immediate area, and probably did. We plan to search all retention ponds, parks, dumpsters, and empty houses in a five-mile radius. After that, I’m at a loss.”

  “Okay, keep us posted.”

  We entered Hardy’s office and sat down.

  “We can hold Stewart for the time being, right?” Hardy asked.

  J.T. tapped his fingers on the desk. “He admitted to running a Ponzi scheme, so yes. That kind of scam takes time to clean up, though. A consulting firm would have to be hired as a receiver. They would have to track down every investor then find out how much money each is owed. Claim forms would have to be sent out. It’s usually a huge pain and takes years to complete. The best we can do at the moment is to alert the SEC and keep Stewart in your city lockup until he has a court appearance.”

  I added, “Let’s not get sidetracked by him. The bigger problem is the murders. That has to be our first and foremost concern.”

  J.T. tipped his head. “Why don’t you make the call to Spelling? I want to view that broadcast Stewart is whining about before we go back into the interrogation room.”

  “Sure, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” I found a quiet corner in the visitors’ lounge to make that call to our boss. It was after eight o’clock, and we still had a while to go before we’d wrap things up for the night. I updated Spelling with the news Stewart had given us.

  “I can understand why investors would be outraged. Still, depending on how many people got sucked into his scheme, it could take forever to figure out if one of them is committing these murders.”

  The call went silent. “Boss?”

  “Yeah, I’m pondering. None of this feels right to me. It takes time before an investor would realize they’ve been had, and if Stewart is a smart guy, neither his personal name nor any other entities he owns would be attached to Wipast Holdings.
I hate to say this, Jade, but we don’t have the luxury of investigating every person who put money into his scam, especially while there are murders taking place right under our noses. Go back to the drawing board and use old-fashioned detective work and get plenty of feet on the ground. Stewart will be held accountable for his own crimes, but I really don’t think the murders are connected to his Ponzi scheme. Email me the initial list he’s putting together, and I’ll get the ball rolling on this end with an alert to the SEC first thing Monday morning.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll get that over to you within the hour. Good night.”

  “Good night, Jade.”

  I clicked off the call and pocketed my phone. I joined J.T. and Hardy in the interrogation room, where Stewart sat with his hands folded on the table.

  “Short list?” I looked down at the paper and saw ten names at most.

  “I don’t have a photographic memory. All of the paperwork for that investment is at home in my file cabinet.”

  I leaned over the table. “Let me enlighten you, Mr. Stewart. It’s a scheme, not an investment. Don’t delude yourself.”

  “Whatever.”

  Hardy spoke up. “Do you have a passport?”

  “Of course I do. My family and I enjoy vacations.”

  Hardy cracked a smile. “I hate to burst your bubble, Mr. Stewart, but your family vacations are a thing of the past. You’re spending some time here, at our modest facility, but soon enough you’ll be enjoying Club Fed. Tomorrow, we’re picking up your passport and all of those important papers. We wouldn’t want anything to accidentally get shredded. I’ll have the warrant in hand by morning.”

  “We need your phone, Mr. Stewart,” J.T. said.

  “I want my phone call now. I should have asked to do that at the beginning.” William dropped his head to the table.

  “But you didn’t. You can make your call from the phone in the hallway. Decide wisely—you only get one call. Is it going to be to your lawyer or your wife?”

  Stewart stared at the floor. “My lawyer.”

  Hardy asked several officers to escort Mr. Stewart to the phone. He was read his rights before he left the interrogation room.