Murder A La Carte

by Nancy Skopin

  “I don’t have her license plate number.”

  It was too dark for me to read the plate on the Celica. “I’ve got it at the office,” I said. “I’ll call you with it in the morning.”

  “All right. But I don’t know how I’m going to explain what I was doing at a market in Noe Valley when I live in Redwood City.”

  “It probably won’t come up, but if it does just say you were having drinks at a bar and decided to do some shopping before going home.”

  “What if they ask to see my receipt?”

  “I doubt they’ll ask for your receipt.”

  “What if the store has security cameras, and they watch the tape, and I’m not on it?”

  “You could say that when you were getting out of your car you realized you didn’t have your wallet. Nina came running out of the store and you heard sirens, so you jotted down her license plate number. Then you drove back to the bar and found your wallet in the parking lot.”

  “That’s good. What’s the name of the bar?”

  “I’ll tell you that when I give you Nina’s plate number in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  “Yeah, like I’m going to sleep after this.”

  I called Jim back and told him about Oscar Rossi.

  “Jesus,” he said.

  “Don’t let your guard down, and keep your car doors locked.”

  “Will do.”

  “Are you armed?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  J.V. and I drove back to Redwood City in silence. He pulled into Bill’s driveway and parked, then turned to face me.

  “You need to tell Bill what’s happening.”

  “I know, and I will, just not yet.”

  “Secrets aren’t good for a relationship.”

  “I don’t normally keep secrets from Bill, but he made me promise I wouldn’t bother Nina.”

  “You’re not bothering her. You’re shadowing her. There’s a difference.”

  “I don’t think he’ll see it that way.”

  “Maybe you’re not giving him enough credit.”

  “It’s this whole brotherhood thing,” I said. “He’s normally a very rational person, but when it comes to his fellow officers he has a blind spot.”

  “Nina’s a data entry clerk.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She works for the police department, so she’s family.”

  “Do what you think is best, but if she kills again and you could have prevented it by telling Bill, you’re going to hate yourself.”

  Chapter 33

  Nina had logged into the DMV database on Saturday afternoon. She’d enlarged and printed the driver’s license photos of the eleven pedophiles on Giordano’s client list.

  She’d popped the CD she had made at Giordano’s house into her computer and read about each man’s proclivities and the frequency of his transactions. After reading all the sordid details she’d selected Oscar Rossi as her next target. Rossi made an average of four purchases a year from Giordano. He preferred developmentally challenged Hispanic boys between the ages of six and nine. Nina couldn’t wait to end his life.

  She’d driven to Rossi’s neighborhood in San Francisco that night, hoping he would come outside. Since he wasn’t a man she could entice to a secluded location, she would have to take him in public. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it increased the risk. She had brought along a red knit cap her grandmother had crocheted for her, and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that she’d purchased at the drugstore. The color of the hat was so bold that it would distract anyone from looking at her face, plus it covered her hair. The glasses would obscure her features. Other than that she would have to rely on her ability to blend into her surroundings.

  Chapter 34

  I pulled into the marina parking lot at 2:40 a.m., locked the car, and shuffled to the gate feeling drained. As I was inserting my magnetic key in the lock I heard canine toenails clicking up the metal companionway. I opened the gate and caught eighty-five pounds of wiggling puppy in my arms.

  “Did you come all the way up here alone?” I asked, squatting down to nuzzle Buddy’s silky ears. When I stood to walk down the ramp I saw Bill approaching on the dock, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.

  “I told him to stay,” he grumbled. “He needs obedience training.”

  “Good idea.”

  Like I had time to take him to class. I didn’t think it would make a difference anyway. I had a feeling Buddy would do whatever suited him, regardless. We walked back to the boat with Buddy prancing along beside us, happy that his pack was together again.

  I undressed, leaving my clothes on the floor, set the alarm for 9:00, and crawled into bed. Bill wrapped himself around me and kissed me on the neck, quadrupling the guilt I was already feeling.

  I slept fitfully, my subconscious trying to find a way to apprehend Nina without telling Bill what I was doing. When the alarm went off I hit the snooze button and tried to go back to sleep, but my attention was caught by an aroma that made my mouth water. Bacon. I struggled into a sitting position, inhaled deeply, and climbed out of bed.

  Bill and Buddy were in the galley reading the Sunday paper and eating kibble. I wondered if Rossi’s murder had made the headlines.

  There was an empty plate on the counter in front of Bill.

  “Tell me you saved me some bacon,” I whimpered.

  “On the stove.”

  I snatched a plate from the cabinet and greedily scooped up the remaining two strips. There was another pan with scrambled eggs in it. I emptied that onto my plate as well. I filled a mug with coffee and plunked everything down on the galley counter.

  After breakfast and a walk, I took Buddy with me to the office and looked up Nina’s license plate number in Scott’s file. I did a Google search for bars in Noe Valley, selecting one near 24th Street and, for good measure, I looked up the number of the San Francisco Police Department serving Noe Valley. Then I called Lily and gave her all the info.

  “Call the cops from your cell,” I suggested. “What’s Nina up to this morning?”

  “She’s still in the house.”

  I logged onto the Meagan’s Law website and looked for Oscar Rossi, but he wasn’t registered. I Googled him and read the report of his death online. There was no mention of a suspect in the case.

  I walked Buddy around the marina and then back down to the boat, leaving him with Bill. I changed into my sweats and drove to the gym where I added an extra thirty minutes of StairMaster to my workout, in penance for the bacon. Then I took a sauna before showering to work some of the kinks out of my neck and shoulders.

  I was back at the office by 11:30. I called Lily again.

  “Any activity?” I asked.

  “She’s parked on Winchester Drive in Atherton. Listen, I’ve been wearing a different wig every time I follow her, but I’m going to need to change cars if this goes on much longer.”

  “How long has she been on Winchester?”

  “About twenty minutes.”

  “I’m on my way. Call my cell if she moves.”

  I thought about what Lily had said. Even though there were five of us taking shifts, our cars would begin to register with Nina before long. If she didn’t get arrested soon I’d have to spring for five rental cars.

  I locked up the office and called Bill as I walked to the parking lot.

  “Emergency lunch survey,” I said. “Be back around two-thirty.”

  “Bring us a doggy bag.”

  “Sure.” Crap. Now I’d actually have to go to a restaurant.

  I donned my baseball cap and sunglasses and set out for Atherton. I found Winchester Drive easily enough and spotted
Nina’s Celica parked on the corner. I pulled to the curb a block away from Lily’s van and called her cell.

  “I’m here,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “About five minutes ago she got out of her car carrying a clipboard, and walked down the driveway of that pink stucco monstrosity on the corner. She’s wearing a navy-blue jumpsuit with some kind of a patch on the left breast.”

  “Can you see down the driveway from where you’re sitting?”

  “No. I lost sight of her about twenty yards down the drive.”

  Since we didn’t have any evidence a crime was being committed, there was no point calling the cops.

  “What about a house number?” I asked.

  “Hang on.”

  I saw Lily get out of her van and jog to the corner. She checked the mailbox in front of the estate, then jogged back to her van and told me the address.

  “Go home,” I said. “I’ll take it from here.”

  We disconnected and I called Michael Burke. Amazingly, he answered after only two rings.

  “Hello, Nikki.”

  “You’re answering your phone now?”

  “I’m keeping it plugged into the encryption device.”

  “I need a big favor in a big hurry.”

  “What else is new?”

  I gave him the address on Winchester and said I needed all the information he could get on the owner. I held while he put the phone on speaker, and listened to his fingers hammer the keyboard.

  “Owner’s name is Anthony Costa. Age thirty-eight, Caucasian, five-eleven and one-eighty-five, according to his driver’s license. Brown hair and eyes. Hang on.” There were more keystrokes, and then, “He’s single. Never been married. Made his money in textiles, or rather his father did. Anthony has a very healthy stock portfolio.”

  He gave me a few additional details about Costa’s family, how many sisters and brothers he had, where his father was buried, things like that.

  “Will you e-mail me all the data?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Michael. You could do this for a living.”

  “Very funny.”

  What Michael had told me about Costa only confirmed that he had enough money to live in this neighborhood. Nina’s presence here suggested that he was single because he preferred having sex with children.

  I was still trying to make up my mind whether I should risk approaching the house when I spotted Nina. She was moving quickly, dressed as Lily had described and still carrying the clipboard. The patch on her left breast was an RCPD emblem. I’d never seen any Redwood City police wearing jumpsuits, but she could have sewn the patch on herself.

  She jumped into the Celica, started it up, and made a U-turn. I ducked below the dashboard as she roared past my car. Then I heard a high-pitched mewing sound, like a cat fight. I didn’t want to think about what else the sound might be. I gave chase, catching up with Nina as she turned south on El Camino Real.

  I kept my distance as she drove down Valparaiso to Middlefield and made a left, then took a right on Marsh Road. She was headed for the freeway. We merged into traffic on Highway 101 going north. Nina didn’t exceed the speed limit and traffic was moderate, so it was easy for me to stay with her. As we approached Burlingame she flipped on her turn signal, changed lanes, and took the Broadway exit.

  Now that I knew she was going home I could afford to keep my distance. Instead of following her directly, I took a different route, arriving from the opposite direction. When I made the turn onto Douglas the Celica was parked in the driveway and Nina was getting out of the car. I parked at the end of the street behind an SUV, wanting the additional cover.

  Nina didn’t leave her house again during my shift. I called Jim at 1:45 and told him about her activities earlier in the day, and where I was. He parked at the opposite end of the street at 2:05, and I took off.

  I stopped at Cafe Figaro on Broadway and picked up an order of Linguine alla Mediterranea, which is linguine with tiger prawns, garlic, olive oil, olives, mushrooms, green onions, feta cheese, and white wine, for Bill and Buddy.

  Driving home, I considered the situation I’d gotten myself into. Bill and I had been dating for five months now. He was spending most of his weekends with me on the boat, and I was becoming attached. I knew at some point he would find out I’d been following Nina. I was just putting off the inevitable, unless she somehow got caught without my involvement. That could happen.

  Back at the marina I stopped in at the office and ate half of the pasta, so it would look like leftovers. I checked my e-mail and printed the one from Michael, which included a photo of Anthony Costa.

  While the file was printing I considered Nina’s recent activities. Something had changed. The guys she was going after now weren’t registered sex offenders. I knew Rossi wasn’t registered, and Michael would have said something if Costa had been. So what did these guys have in common? Costa and Rossi were both Italian. I remembered the man Nina had gone home with on Friday night. He’d looked Italian too. Had she changed her mind about killing off child molesters and decided, instead, to go after the Mafia? I know, not all Italians are associated with organized crime, but what other possible connection could there be?

  I tucked the information about Costa into Scott’s file, locked it back in the Pendaflex drawer, and walked down to the boat.

  Buddy was waiting for me on deck, his leash tied to the pilothouse door. I unhooked it from his collar and followed him inside.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, babe. I thought you might stop at the office before coming down, so I decided to restrain the dog so he couldn’t take off on his own again.”

  “Good thinking. Want some pasta?”

  “What kind?”

  “Seafood.”

  “Excellent.”

  Bill and Buddy shared the contents of the to-go box while I popped the top off a bottle of Guinness and sat down at the galley counter. I sat there watching them eat, savoring the intimacy.

  We spent the afternoon together, walking Buddy around the wildlife refuge and then reading on deck. Later I made a run to the grocery store and picked up some fresh salmon and lemon pepper marinade. Bill barbecued the fish while I tossed a green salad, and we ate outside, watching the sunset.

  After dinner I said I needed to type up my lunch survey and hustled up to the office. I called Jim, who said Nina had not ventured out during his watch. Elizabeth and Jack were on duty now, so I called her cell.

  “She’s still at home, honey.”

  This was good news. I didn’t know what she might have done to Costa this morning, but at least she was taking a break.

  I called J.V. Trusty and told him my cell phone would be turned off because I would be with Bill, but he could leave me a voicemail message if anything happened while he was watching Nina.

  “Still haven’t told him, eh?”

  “Not yet. I’m hoping I won’t have to.”

  “I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, Nicoli, but if I were you I’d come clean. If he finds out on his own it’ll be much worse.”

  “I know. I’ll think about it.”

  I locked up the office and moseyed back down to the boat. I was scheduled to relieve J.V. at 10:00 and I hadn’t told Bill I was going out again tonight. The lies were mounting up.

  When I stepped aboard I said, “Bad news.”

  “Don’t tell me.”

  “I have to do a bar survey tonight.”

  “You never sleep.”

  “I should print that on my business cards.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “Thanks, but you have to work tomorrow. I’d feel guilty.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Tied House in Mountain View.” />
  “What time do you have to be there?”

  “At ten.”

  “You have time for a nap.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  I shucked off my clothes and got into bed, setting the Dream Machine for 9:00. I opened my paperback and tried to read myself to sleep, but my subconscious wasn’t having any. I gave up at 8:30, climbing out of bed and into the shower.

  Chapter 35

  Nina enjoyed checking Costa off her list. He hadn’t been easy. He lived in Atherton, a town noted for its high crime rate, so the Redwood City Police Department logo on her jumpsuit had only made him suspicious, and she’d had to use the taser. He’d shuddered a few times, then dropped like a bag of rocks. She had dragged him into the foyer and quickly finished him off with the knife. As she rose to leave, she’d heard a woman’s voice coming from the back of the house. “Who is it, Tony?”

  Nina had bolted out the door, quickly closing it behind her, and had barely made it to the street before the screaming started.

  There were nine men left on her list of Giordano’s clients. If she managed to kill all of them, she’d think about going after the monsters from whom he had purchased the children. She’d need a fake passport and ID if she was going to do that. Nina didn’t know anyone who could supply her with the documents, but she knew they were out there. She could probably use the RCPD database to locate an expert forger who had recently been paroled.

  Next on her list of deviants was Marc Jensen. Jensen liked little girls. He’d made a purchase every six months for the last two years. He was a forty-four year old stockbroker living on Buena Vista Drive in Los Altos Hills. Since the near disaster with Costa, Nina had the feeling she was running out of time. She considered buying a gun, but there was a two-week waiting period in California. The taser would have to do.