The Judas judge kk-5

by Michael McGarrity

  At a nearby bar and restaurant done up in an old Western saloon motif with sawdust on the floor, two customers and a bartender were watching a sports channel on a wall-mounted television. He asked and got directions to the B amp; B operator's residence.

  The middle-aged woman who opened the door of the hillside house looked at Kerney and shook her head. "I'm sorry, our bed and breakfast is closed," she said. "So are the hotels. You'll have to drive to South Fork if you want a room. I don't know why Eddie at the bar keeps sending people up here."

  Kerney introduced himself, displayed his shield, and held up a photograph of Linda Langsford. "Do you know this person?"

  "Of course. Linda Langsford. She stays with us for several days every fall."

  "The notice on the door says that you close on the fifteenth of September. Ms. Langsford supposedly stayed at your bed and breakfast in early October."

  The woman nodded. "We shut down the breakfast operation then, but we'll rent rooms into October, especially to returning guests. We get some overnighters who check in at the gift shop next door, but most who come when the season has ended make reservations through the mail or by phone."

  "How do they get a room key?"

  "I leave the place open with a key in each room."

  "What day and time did Ms. Langsford check in?" Kerney asked. "I think we mailed her a key at her request. Let me double-check." She left and returned holding an open ledger. "Yes, she got a key and a reservation confirmation by mail." She read off the dates of Linda's stay.

  "Did you see her on the day of her arrival?" he asked.

  "I didn't see her at all, but her luggage was in her room."

  "On the day she was due to arrive?"

  "Yes. I stopped by to say hello. Her bags were there and she had started to unpack. I assumed she'd either gone out for a short walk to stretch her legs, or she was getting something to eat."

  "What time was that?"

  "Around two in the afternoon."

  "Did you see her the next day?"

  "No, I went to Alamosa for the day and didn't get back until long after check-out time."

  "Did you give my agent this information when he called?"

  "No, all he asked about was the dates Linda was registered as a guest."

  "Was her room used? The bed? The bathroom?"

  The woman nodded. "I cleaned it after she left. She was very sweet about not needing her room cleaned until then. She said there was no reason for us to bother since she was only staying two nights."

  "When did she tell you this?"

  "When she called to make her reservation. Why are you investigating her?"

  "Did you have any other guests registered at the same time as Ms. Langsford?"

  "Two couples. We only have six rooms."

  "Would you give me their names, addresses, and phone numbers?"

  "Certainly, but you didn't answer my question," the woman said in an eager tone. "And the detective who called wouldn't tell me anything, either."

  Kerney shrugged and smiled. "We're not always free to do so, and this, unfortunately, is one of those situations."

  The town hall and sheriff's department were just beyond the quaint string of Victorian buildings that defined the business and tourist area of town. A four-wheel-drive patrol unit was parked outside.

  Kerney entered the small office where he was greeted by a tanned, calm-looking uniformed officer who rose from behind a paper-cluttered desk.

  The man matched Kerney's height and weight and looked to be in excellent condition. He had sandy hair about to turn gray and sharp eyes that took everything in and gave nothing away.

  "I'd like to talk to the sheriff," Kerney said.

  "I'm the sheriff," he said. "Ira Morley. What can I do for you?"

  Kerney identified himself, told Morley why he was in town, and asked to use the phone to make two long-distance calls.

  "Help yourself," Morley said, gesturing at the desk phone.

  Of the two couples who'd stayed at the B amp; B the same time as Linda Langsford, he was able to make contact with only one, a retired southern California high school band director and his wife. Neither had seen Linda on the first day she was a guest at the establishment, but had visited with her the next day, before she'd left. All the man could remember was that they had made small talk for a few minutes.

  "Was there anything unusual about the conversation?" Kerney asked.

  "Not the conversation," the man said. "But she sure did look exhausted, and her clothes were all wrinkled like she'd slept in them."

  He hung up to find Ira Morley paging through a small stack of printouts.

  "This is about that spree killer you're hunting, isn't it?" he said.

  "That's right. Did anyone from my office contact you personally about this case?" Kerney asked.

  Morley looked up. "Nope. My records show no car registered to a Linda Langsford in town on those dates."

  "You run license plates?" Kerney asked.

  "Especially during the tourist season," Morley said, "or when things get slow, which happens fairly often around here. It's just me and two deputies, and we don't have a lot of crime to speak of. Cabin break-ins, lost hikers, dead animals on the roadways, sick tourists-that's about the extent of it. We've had only one murder in the sixteen years I've been sheriff. Mexican fella from Alamosa killed by some drinking buddies and dumped in the forest. Occasionally we'll get a computer hit back on a stolen car."

  Morley returned his attention to the papers in his hand. "The only New Mexico plate in town on the days you were asking about was registered to a Drew Randolph, out of Roswell."

  "Make and model?" Kerney asked.

  "A Volvo station wagon," Morley said. "One of those new fancy all-wheel-drive models."

  If Kerney remembered correctly, Volvo station wagons had tail lights that ran vertically along either side of the rear window, just like the vehicle Clark Beck, the trucker with the broken water pump, had described. Maybe Beck had been wrong about it being a Honda.

  "What time was the license plate check run?"

  "Eleven in the morning on the day of her arrival. But it was gone all night and most of the next day. We keep a pretty close eye on tourist vehicles."

  Kerney did a quick mental calculation, figuring that if Linda had dropped off her bags and then turned around to make the long drive back to Carrizozo to start her killing spree, she had plenty of time to finish up, return to Creede, and establish her alibi. He smiled.

  "You've got something?" Morley asked.

  "Thanks to you, I may have," Kerney replied.

  At the state police district office in Roswell, Kerney worked late into the night carefully' preparing search warrant affidavits: one each for the residences of Murray, Gibben, and Linda Langsford, and one for the corporate offices of Ranchers' Exploration and Development.

  Since the fruits of the investigation hinged solely on circumstantial evidence and the statements of Margie Hobeck and Kay Murray, Kerney knew he would need to mount a sufficient and convincing probable cause argument before a judge would agree to issue the warrants.

  Using the information supplied by Margie and Kay, he summarized Vernon Langsford's known sex crimes and asked for permission to look for specific financial documents, notes, records, photographs, personal or business letters, personal or corporate checks, and any pertinent personal diaries, electronic mail, or computer data that could identify victims or could demonstrate payment of money to possible victims.

  To strengthen his argument, Kerney listed the financial benefits Langsford had given Kay Murray and Penelope Gibben over the years to buy their silence, and specified the acts of collusion they had engaged in during the current investigation to protect Langsford's reputation from exposure. That should be enough to secure a warrant to search both women's houses and the corporate office.

  Kerney tracked down Clark Beck, who answered on a cell phone. He was hauling culverts for a highway construction project, and Kerney coul
d hear the sound of the engine and the truck radio in the background. He asked Beck to describe again the arrangement of the taillights on the vehicle he'd had seen exiting the road from Three Rivers.

  "Like I told you," Beck said, "it had lights on either side of the rear window."

  "Did the vehicle have a high-centered profile?" Kerney asked.

  "Not a real high one. Those subcompacts aren't really built for off-road use."

  "Did it have a spare tire on the tailgate?"

  "I don't remember seeing one."

  "Are you sure it was a Honda SUV?"

  "It looked like one to me."

  "Were the back up lights below the rear window?"

  "Yeah, I think they were." Beck paused. "Now that you mention it, maybe it was one of those Swedish Volvos yuppies like to drive. That's the only other car I know that has a similar setup. It sure wasn't a minivan."

  At midnight, he stopped working on the search warrant affidavit for Linda Langsford's house and set it aside until morning. He needed to nail down a few more pieces of information without telegraphing his renewed interest in her alibi.

  He called Lee Sedillo, woke him up, asked him to have all the agents meet at the Roswell district office in the morning, and then went looking for a motel. In the parking lot of the first decent-looking one along the strip, he cut the engine, rubbed his bleary eyes, and stared at the flashing neon VACANCY sign above the door to the dark office.

  He got out and rang the bell, wondering if he'd taken the investigation far enough, hoping the planned searches would yield something more tangible. Without it, the district attorney might balk at prosecuting a case based purely on circumstantial evidence. He'd feel a hell of a lot better about the chances for conviction with clear-cut proof of Linda's guilt in hand.

  In the morning, Kerney held back the Langsford affidavit and got approval for the other search warrants. He sent an agent by plane to Dallas to pick up Penelope Gibben, where she was attending a business meeting, and bring her home. He detailed another agent to pick up Kay Murray, who was sitting in jail pending her preliminary hearing on drug dealing and armed robbery, and take her to her town house. Two more went to the corporate offices to start the financial records search.

  Surveillance on Linda Langsford had been ongoing all night. When she left her residence to make funeral arrangements for Eric, he sent Mary Margaret Lovato off to gather up Drew Randolph, bring him in to the district office, and conduct a follow-up interview. She carried with her a list of questions Kerney wanted answered.

  Kerney waited in the small conference room, watching as Lee Sedillo went through the draft affidavit line by line.

  "Jesus, what a mess," Lee said, as he turned over the last page. "But we still can't physically put her at any of the crime scenes, Chief."

  "The DA can make a reasonable assumption about it from the witness statements we have. That gives him enough to establish opportunity."

  "What about the murders of her mother and brother?"

  "I'll put the Cold Case Unit to work on it."

  A knock came at the door and Mary Margaret stepped inside.

  "Randolph confirms he lent Linda his Volvo for her vacation, Chief," she said. "He had the car serviced just before her trip and then took it back for an oil change after she returned. The garage owner who did the work reports a good thousand miles more on the vehicle than one would expect, given the trip itinerary Linda gave you." Kerney smiled. "That tightens the noose."

  "Randolph said Linda asked to borrow his car because her SUV needed an engine overhaul. I just got off the phone with the mechanic who works on her vehicle. He said it was in for a major tune-up, not an overhaul, and there wasn't anything wrong with the vehicle that would have kept it off the road. Linda asked him to store the SUV on his lot until she got back. The guy says she called him long distance on the day of her return and had him deliver the SUV to her house. She tipped him a hundred dollars to do it."

  "When did she call him?" Kerney asked.

  Mary Margaret smiled. "Right after she spoke to Lieutenant Sedillo to say she was in Taos and on her way to Roswell. She used a phone credit card, so I was able to verify the time."

  "She had her moves carefully laid out," Kerney said, consulting his field notes. "There were only three cars at her house the night she returned home: Randolph's sports car, the minister's Chevy, and Linda's SUV. Where was the Volvo?"

  "According to Randolph, Linda parked it in her garage so she could unload her camping and hiking gear."

  "And hide it from view," Kerney said. "Knowing the cops were going to come knocking at her door soon after she got home."

  "Too much planning can be a bad thing," Lee said.

  Kerney thought about the five innocent people who had died in Linda's concocted killing spree. "A case of overkill, in this instance," he said, looking at Mary Margaret. "Keep Randolph entertained while I finish the paperwork and get it signed."

  "Will do," Mary Margaret said, reaching for the doorknob. "Are you going for multiple murder counts, Chief?"

  Kerney nodded. "Let's hope we can make them stick," he said, reaching for his pen and the unfinished affidavit.

  After Mary Margaret left, Kerney twisted the pen in his fingers and gave Lee a long look.

  "I want the agent who verified Linda Langsford's alibi sent back to Santa Fe," he said. "Tell him for me that until he learns to ask smarter questions, he can count rolls of toilet paper in central supply."

  Lee swallowed hard and nodded.

  Kerney hung back in his unit at the entrance to Linda Langsford's driveway watching Lee Sedillo and Agent Lovato serve the warrant. Even at a distance he could see Langsford freeze as she read the papers. She tried to bar the door, and Lee pushed past her while Mary Margaret took her by the arm and led her inside.

  Kerney eyed the lines of the house that at first had looked contemporary yet out of place in its setting. Given what he now knew about the woman living inside, the structure presented a cold, barren feeling.

  He'd staged the operation carefully. Lee Sedillo would spend thirty minutes creating as much disorder and noise as possible while he searched, while Mary Margaret kept Linda isolated and stonewalled any conversation. He wanted Linda to feel her safe haven had been breached and her crimes were about to unravel, in the hope that it would shake her up.

  Kerney checked the time, adjusted his tie, and turned on the micro tape recorder inside his coat pocket. He'd dressed in a suit to establish an air of authority. He walked into the kitchen and found Linda sitting calmly at the table, seemingly impervious to the noise Lee was making in the back of the house. Mary Margaret gave him a slight head shake to signal that nothing of consequence had transpired.

  He looked around for kitchen implements that could be used as weapons.

  Nothing dangerous was in sight, and Linda sat too far from the drawers and cabinets to reach anything that could be used to mount an attack.

  "Don't you look nice," Linda said with a derisive smile. "Did you dress up just for me?"

  "We need to talk, Linda."

  "There will be no talking."

  Kerney didn't believe her. Killers, particularly successful ones who felt smug and superior, always wanted to talk or play a verbal game of hide and seek.

  "Have you two had a good time?" Kerney asked Mary Margaret.

  "Peachy, Chief. Ms. Langsford called a criminal defense attorney. She's on her way over."

  "That's a very wise thing to do," Kerney said, as he turned to Linda. "You've read the warrant and the affidavit?"

  "Every word," Linda said.

  "You're quite the fiction writer, Chief Kerney-a born storyteller."

  "All a prosecutor needs for a conviction are compelling facts that lead to convincing proof. In your case, we have that plus the added benefit of a motive."

  Linda waved a dismissive hand over the papers on the table. "So then arrest me."

  "All in due course," Kerney said, inclining his head toward the door.
Mary Margaret took the cue and left.

  "Am I free to go until then?" Linda asked.

  "You need to stay until the search is completed and the evidence is inventoried."

  "Am I detained for questioning?"

  "I'm sure you'll want a list of everything we take from your house. You must be very pleased, Linda. You've achieved a great deal of success over the years."

  Linda's eyes smiled. "I'm very happy with my life."

  "Eric did you a favor when he killed himself," Kerney said. "He saved you the trouble."

  Linda pouted dramatically. "Don't be tedious, Chief Kerney. Why don't you sit down? Trying to intimidate me isn't going to work."

  "I'll stand. At first, I thought Eric was the killer. He was single, never married, had no significant relationships, hated his father. He was a typical, asocial loner, always on the fringe, into drugs, an underachiever, and more than a little weird."

  Linda leaned toward Kerney and lifted her face. Her eyes turned serious, her tone conspiratorial. "You may be right. I've had a change of heart about Eric: I think he did kill my father and all those other people. I truly do. It's really too bad he couldn't own up to it. Then I wouldn't have to put up with this little staged production of yours."

  "Eric didn't have the balls to act out his anger against his father. He couldn't even stand up to you."

  Linda pulled back and gazed at Kerney. "You sound so sure of yourself."

  "Vernon and the other victims were killed methodically without murderous rage."

  "Which means nothing."

  "It means a very well organized, intelligent person with a personal vendetta did the killing, and the only person with a reason to do it is you."

  Linda laughed. "I have no reason to kill anybody, Chief Kerney. I overcame my childhood problems a long time ago, and I live a normal life. And in spite of all his problems, Eric was brilliant. He could have pulled it off."

  "I think Eric knew what was going on between you and your father."

  "Unfortunately, we can only wonder what Eric knew," Linda said with a charming smile. "Now that he's dead, it's impossible to sort it Out."