by Lee Killough
Hamada glanced at his watch, scribbled Search warrants for home, office, car on a page of his notebook and handed it to Dennis, then stood. “Wait here.”
Cole whispered to Razor, “Bring up souvenirs. You have to be able to look in that puzzle box.”
“Do you know if Irah takes souvenirs from her crimes?” Razor asked.
Lamper chewed on his lower lip. “She took the rook off my trophy when she broke in.”
Outside the interview room, Hamada told Dennis, “Include personal effects of Benay and Dunavan in the warrant.”
He disappeared into Lieutenant Madrid’s office while Dennis rolled a form into a typewriter and began typing furiously.
Cole realized that while he still had feelings of guilt and unfinished business, that of foreboding had gone. They knew Sara was a victim, not a killer. And her killer was a warrant away from arrest. We’ve almost got her, Sara. But they still needed to find the bodies. Even when they did, he wondered whether he could rest in peace with Sherrie’s belief in him shattered.
27
Hamada rang the bell at Irah’s house, but Cole knew neither he, Razor, nor Darrell Wineright expected anyone to answer. One of the Richmond District uniforms with them carried a ram. Hamada stepped aside and was motioning to the officer with the ram when to all their surprise, the door opened.
A small oriental woman stood in the opening. “Miss Carrasco not home.” She started to shut the door.
Hamada caught it and, holding up his ID, introduced himself. Then he pulled out the search warrant. “I have a warrant to search this house. Please stand aside.”
She kept pushing against the door. “Not come in. Miss Carrasco don’t like.”
“This paper says we can.”
She held on for another moment, then released the door and turned away. “I go call Miss Carrasco.”
In one long stride, Hamada caught her upper arm. “No…you don’t call Miss Carrasco.” He led her into the livingroom. “What’s your name?”
“Mrs. Dien.”
“Mrs. Dien, why don’t you just sit here while we work.” He pointed at a chair. At the same time he sent a glance at Razor and Wineright that said: Watch her.
“I clean,” she said, pointing at a vacuum cleaner sitting in the doorway to the dining room.
“Not today.”
They pulled on latex gloves and fanned out through the house.
“Upstairs,” Cole told Razor.
Razor tapped Hamada’s shoulder. “Why don’t we take upstairs. I think we’re more likely to find goodies in her personal space.”
Hamada nodded.
A uniformed officer came with them. Their brows went up at the books and tapes.
Even Razor blinked in surprise. “She has been studying us,” he murmured to Cole.
Then they saw the curio cabinet. “Souvenirs?” Hamada said.
Cole told Razor where to look for the rook.
Razor pointed it out to Hamada. “There’s the trophy piece Lamper mentioned.”
“Bag it.” Hamada tried the door. “Locked.”
“Luckily I brought these.” Razor pulled a lock pick set out of his pocket, and shrugged when Hamada’s brows rose. “I figured there was a chance we’d find locked drawers.”
Especially when a ghost reconnaissance warned him about it.
Razor ignored Cole’s wink and went to work on the lock.
Cole peered into the catch basket under the shredder. Mrs. Dien had not cleaned up here yet. Maybe good luck for them. Something new had been added since yesterday. “Razor, check out the green stuff here.”
Once the cabinet door was open, Razor came over and lifted off the shredder. Reaching in, he pulled out a narrow strip of bright green paper with black lettering that formed the bottom three-quarters of U.S. Postal Service Delivery Confirmation Receipt. He held it up to Hamada. “Interesting. I wonder why she shredded this.”
Hamada looked around from bagging the rook. “Let’s piece it together and find out. Maybe she mails her burglary loot to her fence. One burglar back East used to do that. Bag the trash.” He frowned back at the cabinet. “I wonder where all this other stuff comes from.”
Razor put on a thoughtful expression. “You know, it looks to me like what the Old Spice Burglar’s been taking. Don’t you think?” he asked the uniformed officer.
The officer stared at the shelves. “Yeah. But I thought Old Spice was a man.”
“Maybe we’ve been wrong.” Hamada’s frown deepened. “If she took souvenirs from Dunavan and Benay, it’s going to be hell finding them. Let’s check the desk and the rest of the room first.”
“Puzzle box,” Cole said.
“I wonder.” Razor stepped back to the curio cabinet.
Hamada raised his brows. “Do you see something?”
“No, but…you know, if I killed a cop and wanted a souvenir, I’d take his badge. That can’t be left out where Mrs. Dien might see it, though and this is a puzzle box.” Razor lifted out the box and shook it. They all heard the rattle inside. “My sister had one of these things. She kept her diary in it, thinking no one would be able to read it. She underestimated how determined a little brother can be. It took me three months, but I finally solved it.”
Cole grinned. “You’ve always been a great liar.”
“Let’s just hope…” Razor began prodding. “…this one goes faster.”
Pulling up the memory of Irah opening it, Cole described her actions to Razor. He thought he gave the directions clearly…but the box stayed closed. Razor tried again…also without luck.
“We could just smash it,” the uniformed officer said.
Razor closed his eyes. “Wait. I think… There!”
The drawer slid out. They stared at the butterfly pendant and star.
“Son of a bitch,” the uniformed officer breathed.
“Is that Dunavan’s?” Hamada asked.
“That’s his number. And Benay’s apartment was full of butterfly stuff.”
Hamada nodded. “We’ll see if her girlfriends recognize the necklace.”
While they bagged the box and its contents, Hamada pulled out his cell phone and called Lieutenant Madrid. After disconnecting, he gave Razor a grim smile. “It’s quite a party downtown. Lamper’s baring every corner of his mightily troubled soul, so now Willner, Burglary, an ADA, and Fraud are also hanging on every word. Dennis is wearing a path to Judge Barbour’s chambers. She just finished signing a search warrant for the Flaxx offices and computers. If we leave Wineright to finish searching here, Madrid will have Galentree meet us at Embarcadero Center with Flaxx office and the arrest warrants.” He paused. “So Dunavan was right about everything. Too bad he won’t be there to put the cuffs on them.”
Cole grinned.
Meeting his eyes, Razor said. “I think he’ll be with us in spirit.”
28
To Gina the reception area must have seemed filled with cops…Hamada, flanked by Razor and Neil Galentree, followed by two pairs of uniformed officers. Her eyes went big as dinner plates.
Hamada’s hand came down on hers as she started to take the weight off the switch hook of her phone. “Don’t announce us.” Then he marched on toward Flaxx’s office.
Razor peeled off at Bookkeeping long enough to empty it. “I have to ask you to leave, ladies. Right now, please. Take your hands off your keyboards and don’t touch them again. Just collect your purses and coats.”
Mrs. Gao pulled herself to her full height. “We have to what? What’s this about?”
“We’re serving a search warrant.”
While Razor ushered them out, Cole hurried after Hamada.
“Where is Miss Carrasco’s office?” Hamada asked Maldonado.
Eyes wide, she pointed down the side hall.
“Is Mr. Flaxx in?”
Maldonado frowned. “Yes, but he’s in a meeting. What is- Wait! You can’t go in there!”
Hamada was already opening the office door and leading two uniforms
in. Galentree took the other uniforms and headed down the side hall. Cole hesitated, torn which direction to go, and finally went with Hamada.
The men and women at the conference table turned, staring. Flaxx pushed back from the table and stood. “What’s this!”
“Donald Flaxx, I have a warrant for your arrest.” Hamada waved it in front of him. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
The jaws of the store managers and Maldonado, who had followed Hamada in, dropped.
Flaxx drew himself up. “Arrest? For what!”
“Let’s see.” Hamada pursed his lips. “Conspiracy to commit burglary, accessory to burglary, conspiracy to commit arson, accessory to arson, murder in the commission of a felony, fraud, conspiracy to commit- ”
The jaws kept dropping.
Flaxx turned to Maldonado. “Katherine, call Wayne. Have him come to the Hall of Justice.”
She scrambled for the phone on the desk.
Flaxx let Hamada cuff him, but his lip curled. “My lawyers will eat you alive. I don’t know anything about any of this. That bully Dunavan’s tried everything under the sun to pin something on me. He even slept with one of my bookkeepers. But you just try taking anything she told him to court.”
Hamada smiled. “We’re not arresting you on the basis of any information from Miss- ”
“Hamada! Carrasco’s gone!”
They whirled toward Galentree in the doorway.
Cole raced through the washroom and wall into Irah’s office. And swore. On the desk sat her spy camera monitor… showing the main Bookkeeping office. The view from the spy camera she planted to watch Sara! Her jacket hung on the back of her chair, high heels lay on the floor beside it, and a bottom drawer of the desk stood open an inch, blocked from closing by blonde curls. The remains of an envelope with a strip of tape across each end lay beside the spy monitor.
He ran out into the hall to find Galentree leading a group his direction. Seeing Razor, too, he said, “She spotted you in Bookkeeping, and probably went out the emergency exit. There’s a desk drawer with at least one wig in it so I’m betting she’s put on another and rigged herself some kind of disguise. There’s an envelope on the desk that looks like it was taped under the desk or a drawer. It could have had new ID or money in it. I’m going to try catching up with her on the stairs.”
Through the exit door, he took the stairs in bounds…leaping to the middle of the flight then vaulting the center railing to land in the middle of the next flight, and vaulting that railing to the middle of the next flight. Could he overtake Irah? What a nightmare for containment if she reached the shopping arcade. Three levels interconnecting with all the other buildings in the complex. Numerous street level exits.
Even if they blocked all the exits, how did they spot her when they had no idea what she looked like now…not color or style of hair, not what clothing she wore. She left her jacket, so she must be planning to acquire new clothing. She might even dress male. And once out of Embarcadero Center, she could go anywhere. Damn, he was an idiot! He should have remembered the spy camera on Sara and warned Razor about it!
Above him heavy running footsteps echoed in the stairwell. One of the uniformed officers giving chase? Below him he heard nothing. Maybe she was running barefooted.
As he dropped past level after level with no sign of Irah, his stomach dropped even farther. By the time he reached the Promenade Level he was swearing in frustration. He made a quick survey of the area but saw no one that could be Irah. Ditto after rushing down escalators to the Lobby and Street Levels.
Son of a bitch! She managed to outrun him after all.
He zipped back to the Flaxx offices to give Razor the bad news. But of the group that arrived with Hamada, he saw only one uniformed officer…who stood outside the door of Bookkeeping watching Katherine Maldonado face the entire office staff. Half were talking at the same time, demanding to know what was going on and what would happen now. All of them looked frustrated, worried, and lost.
Maldonado tried raising her voice above theirs. Without luck.
Then Farrell, standing at the back of the group, put two fingers in his mouth and produced a piercing whistle. In the startled silence he said, “Give the lady a chance to talk.”
In the silence Cole also heard voices in the direction of Irah’s office. Hurrying there, he found Razor and Galentree searching it. The surfer photograph lay face down on the desk. Strips peeled from the surface of the cardboard backing indicated that the envelope had been taped there.
Razor looked around from checking behind other photographs.
“I lost her,” Cole said.
Razor muttered under his breath, “Hamada alerted mall security before taking Flaxx away and we’ve got Central District officers on their way to sweep the surrounding area and search the mall.”
“Let’s hope they can recognize her.”
“You say something?” Galentree asked.
“Just talking to myself.” Razor dropped his voice more. “At least she can’t use her car. The secretary told us where the company parking spaces are in the garage and we’ve got a man watching it until it’s picked up for processing.”
“I’m going back down to look for her.”
Except standing in the middle of the street level courtyard, he wondered where to start. He had to do more than just wander the shopping arcades and streets outside. The security officers and uniformed PD he saw were already doing that much. That stash behind the picture — whether new ID, cash, or credit cards — indicated she had planned for the possibility of flight. Maybe as far back as the day she became Asset Manager, deliberately choosing to have her office near the emergency stairs. If he could guess her plan, he might intercept her.
Cole put himself in Irah’s place. With cops coming in the front door, she reached for her escape kit and bolted out the back. Her objective would be to reach the street and leave the area before they had time to surround it and trap her.
But…leave it for where? In her place, he would want out of the city. The fastest, nearest means for that was the Bay Area Rapid Transit. Make it to BART’s Embarcadero Station and she could be on her way to Oakland.
Since he knew the Embarcadero Station, Cole ziptripped there. Even though unable to collar her himself, when he spotted her he could whisper her location in the ears of the uniformed officers scanning the ticket lines and platform. He searched among the waiting passengers, too… trying to ignore clothing and hair color, concentrating on height and build, hands and ears. Two women and one young male raised his hopes, and officers stopped both of the women without his urging. On closer inspection, neither the women nor the male proved to be Irah.
Maybe she had not arrived here yet. Buying new clothes would take time. He moved to the street and worked his way back toward Embarcadero Center. But while he passed two patrol units and two bicycle officers, he reached the Sacramento Street entrances without seeing her. Had she taken another route? Or maybe chosen alternative transportation?
He zipped to the ferry terminal on Pier 1…then line-of-sight to a ferry churning its way toward Oakland. Searching among its passengers also failed to turn her up. So did checking out passengers at the terminal when he zipped back there. Ditto checking the Sausalito-bound passengers at the terminal behind the Ferry Building.
Cole headed back across Justin Herman Plaza. On the way he spotted another possible candidate there. A bicycle officer did, too. Nearing the pair, though, Cole saw she was only another false alarm.
Cole shook his head as the bicycle officer let her go on her way. The false alarms indicated everyone was doing their best watching for Irah, but they were still missing her. Maybe had missed her. If only he could figure out her escape plan. If she had not tried for BART or the ferries before the police staked out those and other obvious transportation, maybe she intended to rent a car using new ID. That still required reaching a car rental office.
Or…since she knew they were expecting her to flee, wh
at if she did just the opposite? Knowing the Tenderloin from playing Kijurian, her plan might be to go to ground there, hiding among the homeless or in cheap hotels until the heat died down. The risk of hiding in plain sight was unlikely to bother her. She might even get off on it.
Hiding in plain sight. He stared toward Embarcadero Center. What if she were already doing that? In a few hours hundreds of office workers would start heading home for the day. Avoid detection until then and she could lose herself in the exodus.
Cole rushed into Embarcadero Center to search it again. This time, though, he could use a system. Not that he felt a hundred per cent confident about anticipating her moves, but if he wanted to wait for quitting time without attracting attention, he would set himself up in a location where people sat for long periods. Starting at 4EC, he combed all three mall levels, peering closely at everyone sitting at a table. None of them were Irah. He moved on to 3EC.
Where, despite his careful scrutiny, he still almost missed her.
Maybe it was the long fingers spread across the back of her book that made him turn around, or the title on the book’s spine, registering after he passed her. Catch Me If You Can. He walked around the table she shared with two other women…to all appearances oblivious to everything but her book. While the other women chatted with each other, Irah’s eyes lifted from the page just to reach for her drink or eat a bite of salad.
She had gone quasi-Goth. Her blouse, black, had sleeves ending in long ruffles. A black skirt came down over black platform boots to her ankles. Brunette hair the color of redwood hung around her shoulders, hiding her ears and some of her face. What showed had black lipstick and eyes like holes…heavily lined in black, with dark purple eye shadow. A black coat or cape lay folded over the table’s fourth chair.
Cole circled her several times to satisfy himself this was Irah. Even on close examination she remained difficult to recognize. Then he zipped to the Flaxx offices to tell Razor.