“I don’t think he did it.”
“Hey, detective, how about you let us do the hard work.”
“Fine, but I’m telling you, I don’t think he did it.”
“All the evidence says he did.”
“I’m not saying you can’t pin it on him. I’m saying I don’t think he did it.”
Mazzetti looked up when Miller walked in. “Okay, thanks, I gotta go.”
“Who was that,” Sherri asked.
“One of the unis at the park. They got nothing so far.”
“We figured that much,” Sherri said, and glanced at the clock. “Fifteen minutes till he gets here. How do you want to work this?”
“Not much we can do other than ask for an alibi. If he doesn’t have one, we’ll know where to look.”
“And if he does?” she asked.
“Let’s wait and see.”
Carol announced Benning and his attorney, and Lou led them to the interrogation room. Chad started to speak but the attorney took control.
“What is this about, Detective?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard about Detective Donovan being attacked in his home.” Lou stared at Benning as he talked, but the attorney answered.
“I did. That is a tragedy.”
“Where were you when it happened, Mr. Benning?”
“I was—”
The attorney stopped him. “Mr. Benning was at work until four o’clock, and then he went home to pack for a trip. He was there until he went to bed.”
“Is there anyone who can corroborate this?”
“No. He was alone.”
Sherri smiled. “And how about last night?”
The attorney smiled. He reached into his briefcase and handed Lou a slip of paper. “He was at a hotel in Atlanta. Here is the receipt. He arrived at the airport this morning at 9:45. His boss occupied the seat next to him.”
The news seemed to take the wind from Sherri. She shook her head and sat back in the chair.
Lou looked the receipt over and made a few notes. “If you had this great alibi, why did you come down here?”
“You didn’t tell me what you wanted to see him about.”
“Bullshit. You knew.”
“We’re trying to get clear on this,” the attorney said. “Mr. Benning wants this over with so he can get back to work without being harassed. I’m not going to let you bully him.”
“This doesn’t change anything about the other murders,” Lou said.
“I want you to drop those ridiculous charges,” the lawyer said. “You know he didn’t do it, and my client is tired of his name being dragged through the mud.”
Lou stood. “You can go, Mr. Benning. I’m sorry we wasted your time.”
After they left, Sherri grabbed Lou’s arm. “I’ll check with his boss on the alibi, but I’m starting to wonder—are we looking at the wrong guy? Is he innocent?”
“Maybe he didn’t do the two in the park, but I like him for the others.”
Carol popped in, handing a coffee to each of them. “You’re gonna need these. We just got the ballistics report. Whoever did the joggers did it with the same gun as the others.”
Sherri tapped her pen on the desk, her right leg jiggling at high speed. “This doesn’t make sense. This killer—whoever he is—breaks into Donovan’s apartment, waits for him to get home and tries to kill him. If it weren’t for Alex calling 9-1-1 he probably would have.” She looked at Lou and shook her head. “Then he goes out and randomly kills a few joggers?”
“And let’s not forget, he stabbed Donovan with his own knife.”
“I hate to say this,” Sherri said, “but we can’t be sure the person who stabbed Frankie is the killer.”
Lou broke the pencil in half. “You’re right. And as much as I don’t want to say it, I don’t think Chad Benning is good for Frankie. I can picture him doing the others, at least the women, but not Donovan. I don’t think he’s got the balls.”
“Then who does?”
Lou stood and tossed the pieces of pencil into the trash. “That’s what we have to figure out. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 42
No More Suspects
“Where are we going, Mazzetti?”
“Back to the goddamn street when Morreau hears about this.”
“He’s already heard.”
Lou looked back to see the lieutenant, staring at them with his really-pissed-off look. He motioned toward his office. Lou took the seat closest to the door in case he had to run for it. Sherri wasn’t as smart.
Morreau started yelling before the door slammed. “How the fuck does this happen, Mazzetti? I have two seasoned cops and my best young detective on this case. Tell me how you fuck it up this bad.”
“We thought it was him,” Sherri said.
“Clamp it shut, Miller. I’m not blaming you for all of it, but you’re sharing.” Morreau kept his glare aimed at Mazzetti. “Still waiting.”
“Until today, everything pointed to Benning,” Lou said.
Sherri jumped up. “I think he’s good for it, Lieu.”
Morreau pointed his finger at her and moved closer, backing her into the chair. “You don’t know shit, Detective. If you did, you’d have a real suspect in custody.”
Sherri gritted her teeth. The muscles in her face tensed.
“I’ve got six bodies now, and a detective in critical condition. Do you know what time the chief called me this morning?”
Lou stood. “We’ll get him. After what he did to Donovan nobody wants him more than we do.”
“So what do I tell the chief?”
“Tell him to call me,” Lou said, and walked toward the door.
Sherri followed. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going through those files until we break somebody’s alibi.”
“Whose?”
“I don’t know yet. But somebody is going down for this.” As he passed Carol’s desk he snapped at her. “Did we get the DNA on the hair from Parnell’s place? Or Donovan’s?”
“Not yet.”
“Call them. Find out what the hell is holding it up.”
Carol looked as if she might snap back at him; instead, she saluted. “Yes, sir, Captain Mazzetti. Right away, sir.”
Lou stopped. Then he laughed. “Sorry, Carol.”
“I know, sweetie. Just a reminder, is all.”
“A reminder that I was being an ass?”
“You said it.”
Lou grabbed the files and sat at the table. Sherri pulled up a chair and sat across from him. “I’m beginning to like Carol more than ever.”
“Screw you, too,” Lou said, and flipped through the notes. “Benning had no alibi for anything until the joggers.”
“But since they are connected…”
“Yeah. How about Krenshaw’s husband?”
“He was out of town, remember?”
“I do now. And Stewart. What about him?”
“He was home working on his computer when his fiancée was killed. I don’t think we asked about the first murder. He wasn’t connected.”
“And we checked that alibi about him being online?”
“Carol did but I think she said it wasn’t a guarantee.”
“Carol.”
“Yes, dear? I’m always listening.”
“Don’t I know it,” Lou mumbled.
“Always,” she said.
“Can you get back to your source on the alibi for Stewart? See what he can tell us about that.”
“I’m on it,” Carol said. “I’ll tell him we need it quick.”
“Thanks.”
***
Two hours later Carol got back to Lou. “My guy said he could have easily faked it if—and it’s a big if—he knew what he was doing.”
“Tell me about it,” Lou said.
She read from her notes. “He said the program to fake activity is trivial. Any ten-year-old with some smarts could do it, and if the guy ran the program from a True Crypt volume, he coul
d have easily hidden it by wiping the volume. There would be no evidence that the True Crypt volume even existed, let alone what was on it. There might be logs showing the traffic in Stewart’s system, his local network device logs, etc., but he could have removed those too. So if he knew enough to make it to begin with, he probably would. And another thing: service providers don’t keep this information for long, so chances are, it would be gone by now.”
“So what you’re telling me is if he did cover his tracks that way, we can’t prove it.”
“Bottom line, yes. We might be able to find evidence that the program existed, but we’d have to get his computer to find it.”
“And for that we’d need a warrant.” Sherri slammed her hand on the desk. “You know what makes this worse? We already checked that alibi and it basically proved him innocent. It would be tough to go back in now and say he could have done this or that.”
“It’s not all bad news,” Carol said. “The DNA report came back. The hair at Parnell’s apartment belongs to Chad Benning. And guess what—it matched hair at Frankie’s apartment.”
Lou jumped up. “What!” He reached his hand out. “Let me see that.”
Carol handed him the report.
“Hair from two people was collected at Frankie’s. They ruled both Frankie and Alex out. It belonged to another male besides Benning.”
“Son of a bitch!” Sherri got up and paced. “How the hell did Benning’s hair get at Frankie’s place? And if he didn’t do the other murders, why would he try to kill Donovan?”
“I don’t know, but let’s go see Mr. Stewart. I’d like to look at that computer of his.”
On the way over, Lou called Benning’s lawyer.
“I don’t mean to bother you, but we’re trying to clear this up so we can scratch Mr. Benning from our list.”
“I’m glad to hear you’ve come to your senses, Detective.”
“One question I forgot to ask. When we processed the scene at Detective Donovan’s house, they found some of Mr. Benning’s hair. Can you explain how it got there?”
A long pause followed. “I will get back to you on that.”
Lou looked at Sherri. “I bet it won’t take long either. He’ll come up with some asshole excuse.”
“Maybe these cases aren’t connected, Lou. It could be a coincidence that someone attacked Frankie. Think about it. We’ve got nothing to tie his attack to the murders.”
“Except Benning’s hair.”
“But he looks clean for the others now. And if he’s clean for that, why in the hell would he go after Frankie?”
“Turn right at the next street,” Lou said.
His phone rang; it was Benning’s lawyer. “Mazzetti.”
“Detective, I just spoke with Mr. Benning. He said he cannot explain his hair being at Detective Donovan’s house. He was never there and other than his exposure to him during your investigation, has never met him.”
“Okay, thanks for getting back to us so quickly.”
“Benning’s lawyer?” Sherri asked after he hung up.
“Yeah, and you’re not going to believe it. He had no excuse or explanation.”
“That doesn’t sound like a lawyer.”
“I know. This case keeps getting stranger.”
CHAPTER 43
Sister Thomas’ Rules
I glanced at my watch before taking off on a short jog. I had about 18 hours to go before Fabrizio would be stalking me. Running helped me think. Maybe it jarred my brain and let the pieces fall into the right spots. Whatever it did, it often worked and I never discounted things that worked. A mile or so into the run, my thoughts became more fluid, Sister Thomas’ Rules opening up new avenues while they closed others. One was as important as the other. I figured by now there were thousands of theories about how to solve problems, but the one Sister Thomas taught never let me down. It worked, so I used it.
The evidence pointed to Chad Benning, but the logic didn’t. Sister Thomas taught us to look beyond the obvious, dig deeper, think harder. Ask lots of questions. Being a killer helped me in this case. It allowed me to think like a killer thinks. A few cops thought like that, really put their heads into a case and felt what it was like to be a killer for a moment. But it was only that—a moment. They didn’t have the sense of a killer. That was something different altogether.
I started at the beginning. Six dead bodies. I left out the attack on Bugs. According to the rules, dead bodies were either accidental, from natural causes, or murders. These were definitely murders. Were the victims random or targeted? It was highly unlikely they were random: Both of the first two women were cheating on their husband/fiancé, and both worked in the same building.
That left targeted victims—which brought up the question of why they were killed. It looked like jealousy, but I didn’t want to focus on psychiatric bullshit. Anyone could make a murder look like jealousy.
I had to look for real motives and ignore all else, for now. It might come back to jealousy, but I couldn’t assume that. In my opinion, motive was always behind a killing, unless the killer was crazy. But if there was motive, then the person wasn’t crazy. Disturbed maybe, but not crazy.
The first two women were fooling around—motive. But whose?
The dead men were single—no motive.
Who had motive? Husband of Krenshaw. Fiancé of Parnell. Boyfriend of Parnell. No one we knew of for the joggers.
Krenshaw’s husband has an airtight alibi.
Fiancé has weak alibi.
Chad Benning has no alibi for first two murders.
I had to look at this. The trick was not to look at evidence, but to look beyond it, or through it, to see why it was there.
I went in assuming the killer could easily have made a stupid mistake.
For Benning, we had the voicemail and the calls to Krenshaw. Admittedly, stupid.
The bar alibi and being seen by the doorman. Stupid again.
Cleaning Parnell’s place beyond belief but leaving one hair. Stupid.
And where was the gun? It wasn’t at his apartment, or work. They didn’t find a storage facility. It wasn’t in his car.
This guy supposedly killed six people without leaving a single clue that he didn’t want to. That is not stupid. I knew as much. I’d done it myself. It was damn difficult to kill someone and leave no clues.
I wiped sweat from my forehead, wishing I’d brought a towel. I looked at my watch, guessed I had gone about two miles. Few more and I’ll quit.
My reasoning so far had me back where I started—Chad Benning. Which meant I wasn’t trying hard enough. Cops thought a lot about connections and things in common when they solved cases. They should learn to think like killers. Killers only think of one thing—how do I kill this person and get away with it? And they will do anything to achieve that.
So I returned to motive. Who had reason to kill Sandy Krenshaw? Her husband. I scratched him off. He was on a plane when it happened.
Who had reason to kill Debbie Parnell? Her fiancé, Bruce Stewart. I felt certain his alibi could be broken. But Stewart had no connection to Krenshaw.
If I were Stewart, how would I do it?
I’d stalk her building until I got a connection. If there wasn’t one, I’d make one up. But there is one connection—Chad Benning. Chad was having affairs with both women, both of whom worked at his building. It would be easy to make him look guilty.
How?
I thought about the evidence. An incriminating piece was Krenshaw’s cell phone, and the voice message on it.
Easy enough. Buy a burner. Fake calls to Chad. He did say they were business calls. Some investor bothering him. Then I’d make sure to dump the phones where they could be found. And leave the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the hotel room turned the wrong way.
My adrenaline was pumping. I kicked it up a notch, excited by the progress.
A woman about my age passed me by. She wasn’t even sweating. I vowed to train harder when I got home.
/> I focused on how Stewart would do Parnell. He could easily sneak by the doorman, but a smart killer wouldn’t count on that. Not a guy this careful. He wouldn’t leave something like that to chance. I needed to check out the apartment. I had to figure out how he got in without being seen.
I finished my run, took the steps to my room in the hotel, and thought about Krenshaw and the joggers. Unless I found some other connection to Stewart, it meant he killed them to cover up killing Parnell. If that was right, my initial assumption was wrong. This guy was stone-cold crazy. All I had to do was prove it. I slid the key card in, opened the door, and looked at my watch. Eighteen hours.
Get your ass in gear, Fusco.
CHAPTER 44
Another Interview
Lou and Sherri got out of the car and knocked on Bruce Stewart’s door. Lou finished the last few drags of his cigarette while they waited.
“You’re disgusting, Mazzetti. You do know that, right?”
He crushed the butt on the porch. “Because I smoke?”
“Because you disregard the rules.”
“I’m grandfathered in. I was insulting people long before the laws.”
The door opened. Stewart popped his head out. “Yes?”
Sherri flashed her badge. “Detective Miller. This is Mazzetti. We met at Ms. Parnell’s apartment.”
“Of course. I knew I recognized you, but couldn’t place it.” He moved out a little, stood with one foot on the porch and the door open. “What can I help you with, detectives? Has there been a break in the case?”
“We’re still looking at the same man, but we have some additional questions.”
He moved his other foot onto the porch and let the door shut. “How can I help you?”
“Maybe we should go in and sit?” Lou said.
Stewart smiled. “I would love to invite you in but the place is a mess.” He smiled, then said, “Renovations.”
Sherri nodded. “You want to come down to the station?”
“If we must. Let me get my things. I’ll ride with you.” He turned as he went back in. “You don’t mind, do you? Me hitching a ride?”
“Not at all,” Sherri said.
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