BLACK in the Box

by Russell Blake

  “Don’t suppose you know where that is.”

  “It’s the terminal back by the loading area.”

  “Which is also the employee entrance. So it could have been anyone.”

  “Pretty much. Except Alec, of course.”

  “Damn.” Black shook his head. “Now what?”

  “Did anyone give you the insane ninja computer skills vibe?”

  “Hardly. And nothing in the personnel files. Could it have been the other IT guy?”

  “Depends on how good he is. What time does he come to work?”

  “Nine.”

  “There’s your answer.”

  Black’s eyes narrowed. “It has to be Nancy. He wouldn’t have told anyone else. She was engaged to him.”

  “Sounds reasonable. Oh, and there’s another file that’s also password encrypted, but it’s not the same password.”

  Black turned and made for the door. “Keep poking around. I’ll be right back.”

  “There’s one other thing…”

  “Let me find Nancy. She’s got some explaining to do,” Black said over his shoulder.

  Roxie shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

  Chapter 33

  Stan stood outside the garage as the forensics technicians dusted the enclosure for prints and took photographs of the suspect footprint. The lead tech, Melanie Hodgkins, finished her measurements and rose. Stan watched her expectantly as she approached.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Size eleven Nike hiking boot, by the looks of it. Distinctive tread.”

  “How do you know off the top of your head?”

  She smiled. “Spend about a dozen years staring at shoe prints and you get decent at it.”

  “Definitely a man’s shoe, then.”

  “That’s where I’d put my money. And it’s not a cheap shoe.”

  “Any residue you can see that might tell us what was stored in here?”

  “Not yet. But we’ve still got a ways to go.”

  “What was your take on the drugs?”

  “High-grade meth. Most of what we see these days is. Not hard to make, but a lot of the home-based labs wind up screwing it up anyway. Lot of impurities and residues. At first blush, this seems pure. Probably imported.”

  “Mexico?”

  “That’s the likeliest. Since weed got quasi-legal, the cartels have replaced the lost income with methamphetamine. It’s a growth business, as you know.”

  “Yeah, we’ve seen a huge increase in drug-related killings over the last five years.”

  “The irony being that it’s more popular with white kids than in the inner cities. Crack’s still king there, although since we freed Afghanistan, heroin’s giving it a serious run for its money.”

  “Yup. You done with the apartment?”

  “Almost. I’ve still got one person dusting in there. Only a few print sets, though. We’ll place them, but my hunch is we’re looking at the victim, the landlady, and maybe a few dates.”

  “Where do they get this stuff on TV where the good guys find a micro-fiber or a single hair and trace the killer?” Stan grumbled.

  “I love CSI! If only that was how it really worked most of the time.”

  “Don’t get me started.”

  “Unfortunately, we’ve got a head crushed in with a blunt object, either a pipe or something metal, because there’s no sign of any slivers or paint that would narrow it down. And the perp still has it; or rather, took it with him. If you’re lucky, he’s still got it.”

  “More likely is he pitched it in a dumpster somewhere after wiping it down.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re probably right.”

  “Ah, well. Thanks for the update. I’ll be back in the apartment till I hear from you.”

  “Give me another half hour. Sorry I don’t have more, but it is what it is.”

  “What about the car?”

  “That’s next.”

  “I’ll take a look at it right now.”

  “You know the drill.”

  Stan nodded. Melanie returned to where her tech was brushing a surface, and Stan retraced his steps to the apartment to get Mary’s keys. He’d worked with Melanie on numerous other cases and had faith in her. She wasn’t a bad-looking woman, he thought. Divorced, two kids, six years younger than Stan. Alas, he’d learned long ago that dating in the force didn’t work out most of the time. Between his hours and hers, it would never work. Besides which, he didn’t need the complications. His life was simple at present. As he got older, he placed a lot of value on simple.

  Back inside the apartment, he studied the unpaid bills again. He did a quick mental calculation – there was several thousand dollars’ worth, which was a hefty amount for someone at Mary’s income level. He knew from her DMV record that she drove a four-year-old Ford Mustang, and there was one parked on the street, so he wouldn’t have to look far.

  The car was clean, the ashtray empty, and nothing but a few dandruff flecks on the driver’s headrest. The passenger seat appeared to be virtually unused. Mary apparently didn’t have much of a social life. He popped the trunk and moved around to the rear of the vehicle. A couple of dirty rags, some cheap tools. He lifted the deck to inspect the spare tire compartment and nodded to himself. Inside were two red boxes, a name embossed on each in gold – Cartier. He opened one and whistled at the glint of a gold and steel Santos men’s watch.

  Stan pulled up a website on his phone and did a quick scan, and saw that the discounted price of that model was a couple thousand dollars.

  “That’s a nice sideline. Somebody’s been naughty with the store inventory,” he whispered. He wasn’t surprised. People with drug habits routinely ripped off their employers.

  Which reminded him. He pressed redial and waited for the line to pick up.

  “McCarthy.”

  “Sean, it’s Stan again. Did you ever get a chance to give my buddy a call?”

  “Not yet. I’m knee-deep here. I’ll get to it. I promise.”

  “I might have something for you. Another Home World employee showed up dead. Head wound, at her house. The manager.”

  McCarthy didn’t speak for several seconds, and Stan could hear his breathing over the phone.

  “I remember her. What was her name…?”

  “Mary Allenston.”

  “Right.”

  “They’re probably connected. And we’re pretty sure it was a male.”

  McCarthy sighed. “Damn. I thought I had a clean one.”

  “Hate when that happens.”

  “All right. Where are you?”

  “At her apartment.” Stan gave him the address.

  “Any reason for me to come up?”

  “Only if you’re bored. Nothing to see here. I’ll send you everything we get once we’re done. Forensics is sweeping the place right now.”

  “I’ve got a double down here. Couple of yo-yos with 9 mms. Fifteen and sixteen. I should be done in about an hour. I’ll call your bud once I finish up.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Guess it’s back to the drawing board on axe boy.”

  “Yeah, not sure you’ll be able to make the girl fit it now. Decent defense attorney will connect the dots and hand you your head.”

  “Maybe an accomplice?”

  “Could be, but we both know that’s a stretch with what you’ve got so far. Oh, and we found meth and some stolen watches. So could be dope or a theft ring. Partner in crime.”

  “Why you have to go complicate my life?”

  “Sorry ’bout that. You still got my buddy’s number?”

  “Yep. I’m on it.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Yeah. You too.”

  McCarthy sounded glum, and Stan knew what the man was feeling. Most homicides were straightforward and were solved by either a confession or something basic – security camera footage, a witness, a careless blunder. The ones that went unsolved were usually the more complex cases where there was
no obvious motive or suspect. If it wasn’t a family member or a rival, it got harder. The worst were serial murderers. But a close second were those that were somehow linked, but not in a clear way. Unless the murderer made a stupid mistake, it was much more difficult to close the case. So far all they had was that it was a male who favored hoodies. That covered about eighty percent of the male population under the age of thirty in this neighborhood.

  Stan replaced the watch and waited for Melanie, any hopes of a quick close gone.

  Chapter 34

  Black started at the front of the store and negotiated the candy aisle as he looked for Nancy. Henry Heung saw him and stalked toward him, the expression on his face livid and some sort of leather rag in his hand.

  “Black, look at what your cat did!” he said, holding whatever it was aloft.

  Black studied it, unsure what the security man was clutching, until dawning awareness convinced him that he was looking at the remnants of a jacket.

  “You found Mugsy! Where is he?” Black asked.

  “Gone. He demolished my office and ruined my jacket.”

  “I’m sorry. He can be an ass. How much do I owe you?”

  “Two hundred.”

  “Dollars? What’s it made out of, human skin?”

  “That’s what these cost.”

  “Damn. Well, I’ll have Larry reimburse you. Again, I’m sorry. But where did you last see him?”

  “You can follow the trail of destruction back by my office.”

  Black nodded resignedly. He wasn’t a bit surprised by Mugsy’s handiwork, but he could see that even though he would get a new jacket, Henry was still angry.

  “Listen, I’ll catch back up with you, but right now I have to find someone. Have you seen Nancy?” Black said.

  “I…no. But don’t blow this off. That jacket had a lot of sentimental value.”

  “I’m sure it did. But there’s nothing either of us can do other than me making good on it. I wish there was.”

  Henry watched as Black moved away from him before throwing the jacket on the floor with a curse.

  “If I see your cat…” he called out.

  “I know.”

  Black spotted Nancy working with Kyle near the appliance section. She threw Black a smile as he neared, but quickly grew serious when she saw his expression. Kyle picked up on it too and edged away.

  “I’ll be back in a few. Got to check on some things,” Kyle said.

  “Good idea,” Black agreed.

  When he was out of earshot, Black stared hard at Nancy. “Seems like you haven’t told me everything, have you?”

  “I…what are you talking about?”

  “Come with me.”

  “I’m working.”

  “Not anymore. You and I are going to have a little chitchat, and you don’t want the entire store hearing it. Trust me on that.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Follow me,” Black ordered, steel in his tone.

  Once seated in the break room, Black leaned forward. “What did you do in Alec’s files?”

  “What?” Nancy appeared genuinely puzzled.

  “We know you accessed them, Nancy.”

  “What files? I didn’t even know where he stored any he had…”

  “His computer files. Come on. Jig’s up.”

  Nancy tilted her head, a quizzical look on her face. “Mr. Black, if this is some kind of weird technique to get me to blurt out something, I’m afraid I don’t have anything to blurt. I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re referring to.”

  “Someone accessed Alec’s files after he was dead. To do so they needed his password. That brings us to you.”

  “Alec never told me his password. Why would he?”

  “Because he trusted you. Because you were engaged to him.”

  “You didn’t know Alec. First of all, I would have no reason to access anything online in his files. Second, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not me, not Mary, nobody. He was kind of super-paranoid about cyber-security. That was his job, you know?”

  “So you’re saying it wasn’t you?”

  “That’s right. But what time did it happen?”

  “Four a.m.”

  “See, you should have checked the police report before you went off half-cocked. I was being questioned by the cops at four. So it couldn’t have been me.”

  Black’s demeanor cracked for an instant. “I can verify that, you know.”

  “I would hope so. I don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do.”

  They stared at each other, at a standoff, for an uncomfortable moment.

  Black shook his head. “Who else could it have been?”

  “What do I look like? Sherlock Holmes?”

  “Why exactly are you so sure that Mary wouldn’t have it? She was his manager, wasn’t she?”

  “I knew Alec. But why not ask her?”

  “Because she’s dead.”

  “What?” Nancy’s reaction transitioned from shock to crestfallen. Black watched her closely as she went pale and her lower lip began to tremble.

  If she was acting, she should have been nominated for an Academy Award. Faking that response was impossible. Her eyes welled with moisture and she turned away.

  “Oh, God…”

  “Nancy, help me out here. Do you have any idea how someone could have gotten the password?”

  She shook her head. “N-no, Mr. Black.”

  “Where were you two hours ago?”

  “Here.”

  “Did you notice anyone missing?”

  “Not really. I mean, people are constantly coming and going, you know? On breaks, going in and out of the back, smoking… How did Mary die?”

  “The police are still trying to figure that out,” Black dodged.

  “I…I mean, she was just here.”

  “I know.” Black paused. “Were you close?”

  “Not really. But…Alec, now Mary…”

  “Can you think of any link? Something in common?”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Are you saying she was murdered?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” Nancy said, rising.

  Black had been prepared for anything, but not that. He stared at her wide-eyed as she fumbled with the door. “Come right back,” he instructed, but she was already gone.

  He shifted uncomfortably on the hard chair and eyed his watch. Five minutes later Nancy reappeared, only slightly more composed, her eyes red and her face shiny. When she sat back across from him, he adopted a softer tone.

  “You think Bethany might have known his password?”

  “Bethany? Why would he tell Bethany anything?”

  “Nancy, we know about the drugs.”

  “Mary died of an overdose?”

  “Let’s leave Mary out of this. We know that Alec used meth.”

  Nancy frowned. “You’re not going to trick me into admitting that.”

  “You don’t have to. We already know it. A tox report will show it in his system.”

  Black could see her rapidly calculating. “If that’s true, why are you badgering me?”

  “I want to save some time. There’s a killer out there, and I can’t find him if I don’t have all the facts.”

  “Wait – you think this is about drugs? That Alec was selling meth? That’s…that’s nuts.” Her mouth set into a thin line. “Alec liked to party, but he wasn’t a dealer. You’re way off base with that.”

  “So you say.”

  “Why would I lie?”

  “To protect his reputation. Because you’re afraid you’ll be arrested for lying to the cops. Because you use too and don’t want to admit it. Because you know more than you’re letting on. Should I keep going?”

  “Mr. Black, there’s a limit to how much of this I’m going to take. You were wrong about Alec’s password, and you’re wrong about me.” She stood. “I don’t get paid enough to put up with this shit.�
��

  “Don’t you want his killer caught, Nancy?”

  “Of course I do. But I won’t listen to you slander a guy you know nothing about.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me more about him?” Black tried.

  “I’ve already told you everything I know. I mean, I was engaged to him, you know? I loved him, and I had to watch him die in front of me. After all that, you come at me with this crap? What kind of human being are you?”

  Nancy stalked out, leaving Black speechless and staring as the door slammed behind her.

  Chapter 35

  The secure receiving area of Home World was enshrouded in gloom as a figure moved along the rows of newly arrived merchandise before stopping in front of a pallet stacked six feet high with cartons. A box cutter made short work of the tape that secured the top row, and the figure moved the nearest container off the pallet and placed it on the floor. Three quick swipes of the blade opened it, and gloved hands lifted the flaps to reveal the contents.

  A small black light flickered to life, and the figure shined its beam into the interior of the box. After a few seconds, the figure moved to the next box on the top row and repeated the procedure.

  At the fifth box, the lamp beam froze on the contents. A symbol glowed in the eerie light, marking the side of one of the smaller containers inside.

  The figure removed the item from the carton and continued the search. Ten minutes later, five more boxes sat next to the one the figure had first removed, each identical to the naked eye.

  After pausing and listening to ensure that nobody was nearby, the figure wheeled a cart laden with other boxes, indistinguishable from the ones on the floor, to the pallet, and repacked the master cartons before placing them back onto the heap. Once the cart was reloaded, the figure pushed it back into the shadows, where it sat with twenty others, some laden with products, others empty.

  The clang of the security gate closing reverberated off the concrete floor, leaving the darkened area empty and silent again, no trace of the intruder’s passage other than the distant beat of footsteps fading away.

  ~ ~ ~

  Black returned to Roxie with a defeated air, disappointed that his tactic had yielded nothing but emotional trauma for a young woman for whom he should have had compassion. He felt about two inches tall and, worse yet, was no closer to discovering the truth than he’d been before the bit of ill-advised theater.