Touched By Blood

by Craig Buckhout

  Edna: “Hi, come _ _. _ who _ _ _ you?”

  Melanie: “You said _ _ _ hurt.”

  Edna: “_ look _ let me _ _ _. I won’t say _ _ _, please.”

  Man: “Shut the _ _.”

  Woman: “No, please.”

  Gunshot.

  Melanie: Cry/scream. “_ are _ doing?”

  Gunshot.

  Nick felt it was safe to conclude that Melanie and the shooter accompanied one another to the door and that Melanie had been deceived somehow about the killer’s intentions. It was also clear that Edna had been killed first, because the last words were from Melanie, followed by the second shot. Finally, it also sounded as if Edna did not know the man. If true, it was one more piece of corroboration that Malone wasn’t the actual murderer. He could at least say that.

  From the fax machine, Nick pulled the information Specter Security sent him. It was a printout of the times the alarm at Templeton’s business was activated and deactivated during the last two weeks. He took his notebook out of his pocket and opened it to the first page of his notes on Templeton’s interview. On a fresh page on his legal pad he wrote:

  Thursday Morning: Templeton states - Up before 5:30 AM, showers, arrives at office, no stops. Secretary comes in at 9:00 AM. Alarm company records show - Alarm deactivated 8:33 AM. (St. Claire killed between 5:00 and 6:00 AM.)

  Thursday Night: Templeton states - at home between 10:00 PM and Midnight. Alarm company records show - alarm activated 7:56 PM. Bar waitress states - Templeton and Malone meet approximately 9:00 PM. (Ellen prowled about 9:45 PM. Fontaine killed between 10:00 PM and 11:45 PM).

  Friday Night: Templeton states - left office about 7:00 PM, bought burrito, went to Barnes and Noble, then went home. Edna and Melanie Blaine killed about 7:45 PM. Alarm company records show – alarm activated 5:16 PM.

  Saturday Morning: Templeton states - car wash 8:30 to 9:00 AM, then to office. Called chef 11:00 AM, 11:00 AM drove to wedding site, and then immediately back to office. Alarm company records show – alarm deactivated 8:53 AM, activated 10:22 AM and deactivated 2:07 PM. (Malone killed 1:10 PM.)

  The first thing he could conclude from all this information was that Templeton could have committed all the murders except Molly’s, which of course was done by St. Claire. The second thing was that the man apparently lied to him about his whereabouts on several occasions. One of those lies was his meeting with Malone on Thursday night. Then, on the night Edna and Melanie Blaine were killed, he said that he left the office about 7 PM. The alarm log indicated that he left at 5:16 PM. He also said that on that particular night he went to Barnes and Noble after work. This was probably a lie, too, because the book he said they didn’t have in stock, they did. And yet another lie was he said he left his business about 11 AM on Saturday, drove to the wedding site and then immediately back to the office. The alarm company records showed he left his office about forty minutes earlier than that and returned much later than he claimed to have.

  The trouble was that even being able to prove that Templeton and Malone knew one another and that Templeton was a liar wasn’t enough to get an arrest warrant. He needed more. If he could only get his hands on the shoes Templeton wore when he killed Emerson and prowled Ellen’s place, and the pistol and rifle he used to do the killings, then he’d have him. There was another thing he needed.

  Nick picked up the phone and called Rene.

  “I need your help again,” Nick said.

  “Anything, name it.”

  “I think the guy who may be good for Emerson, Edna, Al, all of them, is someone named Roger Templeton.”

  “Not Malone?”

  “No, Malone apparently set the whole thing up for him, though. Anyway, Templeton may not be his true name, so I want you and whoever you need to help, to follow him around and try to get fingerprints and maybe even a DNA sample from him.”

  “You mean get the stuff he touches, that sort of thing, and get it printed and tested?”

  “Exactly, and maybe even some photographs of him.”

  “Sound’s fun; where can we find this Templeton, and what’s he look like.”

  He gave her the information she needed and hung up.

  It was nearly noon, so he gave Ellen a call to see if she was interested in lunch. She excused herself saying she had a potential client coming over. Nick reminded her to let the officer out front know she was expecting someone. After hanging up, he called her back and gave her Templeton’s name and description just in case he happened to be her appointment. She told him she was expecting a woman.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  William ‘Wild Bill’ Foster took the boring out of Council Meetings. Partly it was his appearance — flaming red hair with a bad comb over and a waxed, four inch handlebar moustache. He was also loud and bodacious, often wise-cracking during meetings. And then there was High Beam, his three year old Toy Schnauzer. He went with Wild Bill everywhere, even into council chambers where he could frequently be heard growling during the Mayor’s speeches.

  “Well now, what can a humble civil servant like myself do to be of assistance to one of San Jose’s finest,” he said.

  High Beam scurried over and sniffed Nick’s shoes and pant cuffs.

  “Just answer a few questions,” Nick said.

  Wild Bill pointed at High Beam and said, “Watch that he don’t wet you there. He pissed on the Mayor’s shoe the other day. It was a sight to see. I’d have given my sister Rhonda, the good looking one in the family, to anyone who’d a photographed it. Sit right on down, Sergeant. …Beamer, come here you little trouble maker.”

  Nick sat down and stated, “This is just routine follow-up.”

  “You guys must learn that line, ‘it’s just routine’, in the Academy or something; tell me it’s true.”

  “You know, I’ve said it so many times, I forget where I first heard it. Sir, do you know a man named Forney, Ramon Forney?”

  “What’d he do, pick someone’s pocket? The man’s a hell of a businessman. He’s also a little light in the britches if you know what I mean; not that there’s anything wrong with that mind you. Some of my best constituents …so on and so forth.”

  “It’s nothing like that; I’m just trying to nail down a timeline on a case I’m working.”

  Foster picked-up the morning paper that was sitting on his desk top and tossed it across to Nick’s side. “Your case wouldn’t have anything to do with all this nasty killing business would it?”

  Nick looked at the headlines. ‘Mystery Deepens, Death Toll Climbs’.

  “As I said, I’m just trying to nail down a time line. He’s not a suspect. Did you have dinner with him recently?”

  “Surely did. It was Friday night over Saratoga way. He was trying to swing my vote in favor of rezoning a piece of property he owns, from residential to multiple use. He wants to build a small shopping center. The neighborhood could probably use it, but I told him we’d have to meet with the folks who live out there first before he got my endorsement.”

  “What I’m interested in is the time you two had dinner together.”

  Foster swiveled his chair clockwise so he could reach his calendar.

  “Well now, let’s just see. It was about eight o’clock. That’s what I have here and that’s about the time I remember, too.”

  “Okay, did you put it on your card where there’d be some sort of transaction time recorded?”

  Foster thought for a second then held up his index finger. “Got just as good, valet parking, how’s that?”

  “Sounds just like what I’m looking for.”

  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a claim ticket. He flipped it over and studied the front of it. Then, as he half rose and handed it across his desk to Nick, he said, “Shows 7:49 PM as the time they took my car. I went inside, ordered a drink, and had just got myself settled when Forney showed-up. So let’s say he got there just a little before 8 PM. That answer your question?”

  Nick nodded and said, “May I ke
ep this?” He held up the valet claim ticket.

  “My civic duty.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Nick punched in a call to Forney to make sure he was home, and later, while in route, called Andy in Records.

  “I gave everything to Fanucchi,” Andy started out.

  “That’s not why I’m calling. I need you to run complete backgrounds on a guy named Roger Templeton and a guy named Peter Blaine. You can get their dates of birth from Lt. Navarro; they’re in my reports. I want you to get me a ten year driving record, criminal history, calls for service where they are listed as victim, suspect, or witness, a credit check, civil check, divorces, lists of property owned, business licenses, everything. If there is an arrest record, civil record, or divorce, I want you to get copies of all documents associated, even if you have to go there and get them yourself. You got all that?”

  “Yeah, it could take a while though depending …”

  “Do it as fast as you can and get the stuff to me as it comes in.”

  “I’ll get started right now, how can I reach you?”

  Nick gave him his cell phone number.

  Ramon Forney answered the door wearing tan khaki pants and an orange polo shirt with a little horse and rider embroidered on the left breast. He was also holding the morning paper.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asked shaking the paper. “It was Carl? He was the one shot and killed in Santa Clara? And then Blaine is missing, his wife dead, it’s unbelievable. Do I have something to worry about here? Am I in danger?”

  “Let’s not discuss this out here on your front porch, Mr. Forney. Is there a place we can talk and then I’ll try to answer all your questions.”

  Forney took a deep breath and let it out. “Of course, sorry, sure, come on in. The study, we can talk there.”

  Nick followed him in, but before they reached their destination Forney turned around and faced him.

  “You don’t still think I have anything to do with this do you? I mean come on.”

  “I’ll be honest with you; I don’t think you shot anyone, no, that I can say for sure. The councilman alibis you out, but I’m still not convinced you’re not somehow involved in all this.”

  Forney stared at him for a second before saying, “All right, how do I convince you I’m not involved?”

  “We’ll get to that, but first I have to ask you a few questions.”

  Forney motioned with his head into the study and walked on in, taking a seat in a brown leather chair, leaving a love seat to Nick.”

  “Now, what do you want to know; ask away? Anything. Everything.

  “First, I need to look at a sample of your handwriting. Do you have anything written out by hand; maybe a few pages in an address book that has both numbers and letters on them?”

  “Now why …” He stopped mid sentence, got up and walked to his desk, picked up a leather bound address book and handed it to Nick.

  Nick took a legal pad from his briefcase, a pen from his pocket, and handed them both to Forney.

  “Now I’d like you to write a few things out for me.”

  “And this is necessary? It will clear me of suspicion?”

  “Possibly.”

  “All right, go ahead, I’m ready.”

  Nick dictated a long series of numbers and letters that included all the numbers on the back of the business card taken from Molly’s belongings. When he was finished, he first compared what Forney had written on the legal pad to what was written in Forney’s address book. Although not a qualified handwriting expert, it was clear that Forney made the entries in the address book.

  He next removed the questioned business card from an envelope and compared it to the address book. While doing this, he also checked to see if there was an entry for Blaine, Molly, or Edna on any of the pages. There was no such entry, and the handwritten number on the back of the business card did not match the writing in the address book.

  Nick then handed the business card to Forney.

  “Do you recognize the phone number written on the back of your business card, Mr. Forney?”

  “No, and that’s not my writing either. Where’d you find this?”

  “When was the last time you spoke with Carl Malone?”

  “Well, it was before you and I talked the last time, so I suppose at least a week ago.”

  “Did he have one of your business cards?”

  “I’m sure he did. I probably gave one to him when I first ran into him. So is this his?”

  “How about Peter Blaine, have you had any contact with him since we last spoke?”

  “No, none.”

  “Same question again, did you give a business card to him?”

  “It’s possible, probable. I pass them out like candy.”

  “Okay, how about Roger Templeton?”

  “He stopped by yesterday afternoon.”

  Forney broke eye contact and looked at a spot on the wall above Nick’s head.

  “And why did he do that; stop by?”

  “He said that he had a new client and he wondered if he could use me as a reference. I told him he could.”

  Forney was still avoiding good eye contact. Nick got the feeling that there was more to the conversation then permission to use him as a reference. Forney was definitely acting nervous about something.

  “What else did you talk about Mr. Forney? There’s something you’re not telling me. You better pay attention to what’s going on here. Seven people are dead …so far.” Nick paused to let that sink in before continuing. “And if I find out you know something that could put an end to the killing and didn’t tell me, your ass is mine. Do you hear me?”

  “It’s not like that. I don’t know anything about the killings.”

  “Well, then what? What are you not telling me?”

  “You have to understand he didn’t mean anything by it. It was an accident. It’s just that Leo sometimes doesn’t know when to be discrete. He’s really a sweet guy.”

  “What are you talking about? What did Leo do or say that has anything to do with people dying?”

  “Nothing with people dying, but he told Roger that you and Ellen Banks were, well, close.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Leo was a little angry about the way you talked to me at the funeral service. So when Roger came by shortly after we got home, well, it was fresh on his mind and he said something. Roger, Leo, and I were talking about how tragic the killings were because we had just come from there, the funeral home, and it came out that you and Molly’s sister were romantic.”

  Nick wanted to pound the little shit into the ground. If Templeton was the killer, he just put Ellen in grave danger. And even if he wasn’t, who knows who he would tell. Nick acknowledged he had to own some of the responsibility, though. He should have shown better control.

  “He shouldn’t have done that,” Nick said.

  “I told him that afterwards. I told him that information of that sort should always be kept to himself. I’m sorry if this causes you any problems.”

  All right, Nick thought, it happened, and there’s nothing he could do about changing it. It would just have to be dealt with. At least he had a heads-up.

  “Let’s move on. So you talked about the case then?”

  “Not in detail. After Leo mentioned we’d just come from the funeral and the rest of it, Roger brought up that you’d talked to him and asked his whereabouts on certain days and so forth. I told him you must be asking everyone those questions because you’d also asked me. And that was about it.”

  “How about him; do you think he had one of your business cards?”

  “I can’t say I remember giving him one, but I know I did.”

  “You said that you’d been to The Rack a few times with business partners. Is it possible that you gave one of the women there one of your cards?”

  “I highly doubt that. I can say with almost complete certainty that I didn’t.”

  “How about one of your com
panions; do you think it’s possible that they could have used one of your cards to write their personal number on, to give to one of the dancers?”

  “Humm, let me think about that one. …I don’t remember that happening, but it’s possible I suppose.”

  “All right Mr. Forney, you asked if you were in any danger. I don’t know. I wish I did. If I were you, though, I’d be very careful. Keep aware of your surroundings. Don’t conduct any meetings in private. If something feels wrong, trust that instinct and get to a safe place. You obviously have considerable resources, so you might think about hiring security.”

  “That’s a good idea. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “No, but I’m sure there are people you do business with who hire security firms all the time. You might try them for recommendations. Just don’t hire some eighteen year old kid who is getting paid minimum wage. Make sure it’s someone who knows what he’s doing. You can have him call me if you want. In the mean time, if Blaine, Templeton, or anyone else initiates a conversation with you about the murders, I want you to call me. Is that understood?”

  “It’s understood Sergeant. And I hope you don’t hold any ill-will towards Leo.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Nick dropped into his chair. In front of him, waiting, were three thick and neatly stacked, nine by twelve manila envelopes.

  Fanucchi, coatless but still wearing his trademark fedora, which was pushed back on his head, was already seated with his feet crossed and propped on his desk top, talking on the phone.

  “Cash huh?” Nick heard Fanucchi say. “Figures. Did he give a name? Do your records show that? … … Yeah, I know, but try anyway. …Yeah, I’ll hold.”

  Nick opened the envelopes and found them to contain the phone records for Nolan St. Claire, Molly Banks, and Carl Malone. “About time,” he muttered to himself.

  Carla Stevens, one of the homicide detectives, stormed into the office, threw her purse on her desk, un-holstered her pistol, slid it in her top right hand drawer, hipped it closed, and asked, “What’s up.”

  Good question Nick thought. What’s up with you? Carla seemed a little raw.