Kakazu gave him a long look. “You’re joking, right? The body was destroyed.”
“I know the medical examiner well enough to know that won’t stop him from investigating.”
“It might slow him down a step or two.”
“Can you give me any details on how the body was destroyed?”
“We’re still investigating. But if you want the big picture—bio-cremation.”
His lips parted. “That’s a real thing?”
“It is. Lye mixed with water, basically. Will destroy a body in about sixteen hours.”
“Then how do you know it was Harrison Coleman?”
“DNA traces. In the powder.”
He winced. “I know I’ll regret asking, but—how does this bio-cremation occur?”
“Not by accident, if that’s what you’re thinking. Dr. Zanzibar can give you more details, but basically, the killer would have to strip the body naked. Drag the naked body to the tub. Turn on the water, hot as it will go. Toss in several scoops of lye. Cover the tub with something secure—like a rubber sheet. Seal it firmly with duct tape or something similar. Then let science work its magic.”
“In sixteen hours?”
“Or less. The bio-cremation would break down skin, tissue, muscle—even the poor man’s teeth. At the cellular level. What little is left behind—in liquid form—you eliminate by draining the tub. Bone chunks would be so soft you could mash them into powder with the sole of a shoe. Nothing left but dust.”
“Yet you could run DNA tests on that powder?”
“Ask the experts. They can tell you all about it. All I know is it wasn’t easy.”
He wiped his mouth. This was hideous. Whoever committed this murder seriously wanted to eliminate all traces. Why? Given the location, there was little doubt about who the murder victim was. What was the killer trying to mask?
And worse, what kind of monster would resort to something like this?
And what would he do to anyone who got in his way?
“Despite all this weirdness, you’re determined to blame Ossie?”
“Well, given the state of the remains, I think we can rule out suicide.”
Very funny. “Let me know when the doc comes up with a cause of death.”
“I will. But what makes you think it isn’t the obvious?”
“The...obvious.”
“The lye. Eating away at his skin.”
“I assumed...he was killed first. Then dragged to the tub—”
“And I hope you’re right. But maybe not. Maybe he was restrained. Or drugged. And then destroyed. Lye eating away at his skin. Seeping into his internal organs. Cooking him by inches. While he was still alive.”
Chapter 14
Dan could have used his phone to text everyone into the kitchen. “Avengers Assemble” or something like that. But texts were easily ignored, even when he leaned in on the exclamation points and added emojis. Experience told him there was a far more effective means of luring his teammates out of their private offices.
“Do I smell food?” Jimmy asked. His cardigan was unbuttoned, which was his way of observing Casual Friday.
“Indeed you do.” He lifted his sauté pan off the burner. “Homemade gnocchi with Pomodoro.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Homemade? Like you made all the little pasta pillows?”
“I did.”
“You put the crinkles on the ends?”
“I did.”
“That must’ve taken forever.”
“Nah. I made the pasta dough and kneaded it this morning around sunup.”
Jimmy took a bite. “I am in heaven. What’s in the sauce?”
“Champagne vinegar. Parmesan. Basil sprigs. And a few secret ingredients.”
“You added vanilla extract.”
“I would never. I scraped the seeds from vanilla beans. Huge difference. The rich complexity and flavor notes of a true vanilla bean become a one-note sweetness when distilled to an abstract.”
Maria wandered into the kitchen. “I don’t care how you made it. If it tastes as good as it smells, I’m in. Does this have meat in it, Dan?”
“I want you to eat it, not scorn it.”
Garrett was the last down the stairs. “Suppertime?”
“Yes, Snoopy. Grab a plate, then let’s gather in the living room. We need to talk about what this case has turned into. This may be our last chance to share a meal for a while. So let’s make the most of it.”
Jimmy covered his mostly full mouth and spoke. “If we’re going to make the most of it...”
“Yes, Jimmy. There’s dessert. Profiteroles and homemade vanilla toffee crunch ice cream.”
Jimmy beamed. “Best law firm ever.”
* * *
After Dan briefed them, Garrett was the first to break the silence. “I think we should let Mr. K weigh in on this murder business. He might not like the latest development.”
“Mr. K has always told us we can take cases on our own.”
“When time permits. But something like this could bring down the whole firm.”
“He’s the one who brought Ossie to our attention. You think he’ll want to abandon the kid now?”
Garrett twisted his neck. His conservative leanings—and his former prosecutor status—were beginning to show. “I...just don’t know.”
“As it happens, I’ve already sent K a text. Hoping for an answer soon. But one way or the other, I’m taking this case.”
Maria leaned forward. “You think Ossie’s innocent.”
“I do.”
“You might be wrong,” Garrett said.
“I’m not.”
“No one is right all the time, Dan. Not even you.”
“Granted. But I’m not wrong about this.”
“I’m in,” Jimmy said, plopping his plate down on the table. “I like the kid. I don’t want to see him get railroaded.”
Garrett’s teeth ground together. “We don’t know that he’s being—”
“I know the cops are already circling the wagons,” Jimmy said, “trying to put him away forever, because he’s the obvious suspect. The easy suspect. Or maybe there’s another reason we don’t know yet. In any case, I don’t like it.”
“One thing is for certain,” Dan said. “We don’t know everything there is to know about what happened. We don’t even know half what we need to know. We need to start investigating. Garrett—given your obvious reservations, can we count on you for this?”
Garrett drew up his shoulders. “I am a member of a team. If the team takes the case, I’ll give it one hundred percent.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Jimmy, I know you’re already snooping around—”
Jimmy cut him off. “Why is it you call Garrett’s work ‘investigating,’ and my work ‘snooping around?’”
He blinked. “I’m sorry. I know you’re already delving into your social contacts—”
“Oh, much better.”
“—and now you need to do it even more so. And we need to talk to those relatives. When so much money is at stake—anything is possible.”
“Dan,” Maria said, “what about maybe getting a jury consultant?”
“You’re the only jury consultant I need.”
“Maybe not this time. You can read faces and Jimmy can check people out on social media, but I think there’s going to be an onslaught of publicity about this case. We have to make sure no one slips into the jury box who has already decided Ossie is guilty. Or finds the facts so disturbing they vote to convict just to feel like they’ve done something.”
“I still think you’re better at it than some alleged jury expert.”
“And I think I need help. For that matter—maybe we should run some mock trials. Get people in off the street. See how the facts play out.”
“You know I hate all that crap. This has become a cottage industry for so-called experts taking money from defendants foolish and rich enough to pay them.”
“We have a young boy�
�s life on the line, Dan. Not to mention a billion dollars.”
“Still—”
The doorbell rang.
He turned, annoyed. “Anyone expecting a client? A package?”
All three shook their heads.
“Whatever. I’ll go.” He opened the front door—
His lips parted wordlessly.
The woman on the other side of the door peered back at him. Tall. Strong. Obviously worked out regularly. Dressed all in black. Red hair in a bun. Asian dragon tattoo on her neck.
“Prudence Hancock.”
She smiled. “So pleased you remember me, Mr. Pike. May I come in?”
“We’re—in the middle of something.”
“This won’t take long.”
“How can I say no to the Chairman of the Citizens for Responsible Democracy?” He opened the door and ushered her inside.
He didn’t need psychic powers to know what was going through the minds of his teammates. He’d let the serpent into the garden. And they did not like it.
He’d met Prudence once before, though he’d seen her in the courtroom several times. She was Conrad Sweeney’s top assistant, executing his orders with efficiency, effectiveness—and ruthlessness. Her organization was a charitable front Sweeney used to maintain his public facade.
Garrett rose. “What brings you to our office today, Ms. Hancock?”
“Can’t you guess?” She strode across the room with the air of a dominatrix, then seated herself on the sofa beside Maria, who looked distinctly unpleased to have her so close. “I want a powwow. On a matter that concerns us both. You’re representing the kid claiming to be Ossie Coleman on murder charges, right?”
Dan’s eyes narrowed. “How can you know that? We haven’t even entered our appearance yet.”
“There’s not much I don’t know, Mr. Pike. And absolutely nothing my boss doesn’t know.”
He shouldn’t let her get to him, but something about her steely cold manner seriously creeped him out. “Is your boss having me followed? Do you have a spy at the jailhouse?”
More frigid smiles. “That would be telling. And completely irrelevant.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why are you here?”
She spread her hands wide. Maria dodged to avoid making tactile contact. “I’ve come to offer you my assistance. My help, and Dr. Sweeney’s help, of course.”
“Doctor Sweeney?”
“He has recently received honorary doctorates from three universities.”
“That he gave generous donations to,” Jimmy grunted.
“Is there something wrong with contributing to higher education?”
No one commented.
“Did you hear the part about me offering to help? Dr. Sweeney is concerned about your client. He thinks your boy is being treated unfairly and wants to help.”
Dan took a step closer. “He thinks Ossie is innocent?”
“My employer is not prepared to take a position on that at this time. He wants to wait until more evidence has been uncovered. But he does believe this business with the estate has become complicated. Perhaps dangerous.”
“Sweeney knows the family, doesn’t he? Especially the patriarch. Zachary Coleman.”
“He’s known the family for some time. And that is...part of his concern.” She reached into her pocket—she did not carry a purse—and withdrew a checkbook. “We are prepared to make a sizeable contribution to your defense fund.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing. Can’t you believe Dr. Sweeney wants to prevent injustice in his own town?”
“I can believe a huge egotist wants to be perceived as more important than he is.”
“You’re too cynical. My boss is a generous man.”
“When he sees an advantage in generosity. What is it he wants in exchange for this contribution?”
“Nothing, really. He would just want to be informed about and involved in the defense.”
“He wants to know our plans? Strategies? So he can undermine them? No thanks. We don’t need your money.”
“I can assure you there are no strings attached.”
“There are always strings attached.”
“Couldn’t you use some financial aid? A case like this requires—”
“We have all the resources we need, thank you.”
“Ah, yes. From the mysterious Mr. K. Is that why you’re turning me down? Are you afraid Mr. K might not like it?”
“I know he wouldn’t like it.”
She made a tsking sound. “So sad. A grown man like you, completely dominated—and you don’t even know who this K is.”
“I know who he is. I just don’t know his name. He withholds his identity from everyone to insure—”
“Not from everyone.” She grinned.
“What?”
“No secrets from Dr. Sweeney.”
“I think it’s time for you to leave.”
She slapped her knees and rose, peering at him almost nose-to-nose. “Maybe you and I could continue this conversation...somewhere more private.”
Behind her, he could see Maria making a gagging face. “That will never happen.”
“Never say never.”
“Okay. Then how about I say, Go to hell.”
She strode toward the door, shaking her head. “None of us knows what the future holds. If you change your mind, just whistle.”
She let herself out.
Jimmy shivered. “Man, that woman gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“I know,” Maria said. “I feel like I’ve been lap dancing with Cruella DeVille. What’s her game, Dan?”
“No clue.”
“It’s not impossible that Sweeney genuinely wants to help,” Garrett said. “He is a public figure and a major policy maker in this town. Maybe he wants to prevent an injustice. Just as you do, Dan.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Deep breath. “But no. Sweeney doesn’t do anything unless there’s something in it for Sweeney. I don’t know what that is. But we need to. Because blind spots will doom us.” He turned his head abruptly. “Maria? Hire your jury consultant.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re sure?”
He rubbed his hands together, as if trying to fight off a chill. “No stone unturned this time. No stone unturned.”
Chapter 15
In Dan’s opinion, arraignments were one of those constitutional requirements that in this day and age were largely a ceremonial waste of time. The idea was that they prevented law enforcement from imprisoning people without bringing charges, but these days, if cops wanted someone out of circulation, they simply arrested them, charged them, and worried about making it stick later. The whole business of informing the defendant of the charges could be handled by a cell phone call. But since the Constitution mandated that they all gather in court, he planned to make the most of it.
He spotted Jazlyn inside the courtroom. “I had a hunch I’d be seeing you here.”
“Psychic powers at work again?”
“Common sense. When a case gets a lot of attention, the DA brings in his best prosecutor.”
“Best may not be good enough in this instance.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t you handling this case?”
“For now.”
“Who else would do it?”
“That hasn’t been decided yet. DA Belasco really wants to win this one.”
“He always says that.”
“This time he means it. He’s pulling out all the stops.”
“Why?” He thought a moment. He knew the DA had his eye on the mayor’s seat. “Is he getting campaign funds from Zachary Coleman?”
“I couldn’t say. But I have seen the man in the office.”
“That’s all I need. Big money trying to influence the trial.”
“Are you asking for bail?”
“It would be malpractice if I didn’t. Will you oppose?”
“It would be malpractice if I didn’t. This is a capital offense, Dan. And the deta
ils of the body mutilation have leaked to the press. I have to take a firm stand.”
“Because you’re still thinking about running for the DA’s job.”
She drew in her breath. “It’s more than just thinking. I filed this morning.”
His grin spread from ear to ear. “That’s fantastic. I’m behind you one hundred percent. Anything you need, just let me know.”
“Thank you. But given your rep...”
“I know. I’ll stay out of the limelight.”
“But still. Thanks.”
“You’ll be a fantastic DA. Just what this city needs.”
Their eyes locked for a moment. They seemed to soften. “Dan—”
“I know Camila feels the same way. And her endorsement is one you can talk about in public.”
The marshals brought Ossie into the courtroom. He looked tired. The circles around his eyes suggested he wasn’t getting much sleep, which was common for people behind bars. Still it didn’t wear on him as badly as some. Youth had its advantages.
“How are you holding up?”
Ossie fell into his chair. “Get me out of there.”
“That’s probably not going to happen. This is murder, and a particularly nasty one.”
“I didn’t do it!”
“I know. But unfortunately, we have to prove that before they let you out.”
The bailiff called the court into session, and Judge Smulders entered the courtroom. One button on his button-down shirt was loose. Hair mussed. Bugs Bunny tie. Fingernails needed clipping.
Smulders was reportedly thirty-five, but he looked about eighteen. His robe was ill-fitting, and that was remarkable, given that it was basically a drape. He tugged at his neck, then reached behind himself, as if surreptitiously adjusting his underwear.
The judge cleared his throat. “So...I guess we should do this arraignment thing?”
Jazlyn rose. “The grand jury has convened and we filed our indictment. The defense has received copies.”
“That’s correct,” Dan confirmed. “Waive the reading. Not the rights.”
Smulders fumbled with the papers before him. “That means we don’t have to read all this stuff out loud to the defendant?”
Out the corner of his eye, he saw the judge’s clerk—who he knew had worked here more than twenty years—roll her eyes. Her name was Bertha and he could only imagine how she handled a boss with so much less experience.
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