'Give the phone to Marilyn. Then find Tony for me.'
I handed the phone to Terry, who repeated the bad news to Marilyn.
He spoke calmly in that soothing, reassuring, practically hypnotic voice of his. I'm sure he used it all four times he proposed marriage and a thousand times in between. He was using it now to keep Marilyn calm.
'You'll be fine. Tony is gonna bring you here. No, I don't think the girls are in any danger, but just to be on the safe side, why don't you call Sarah and Emily and tell them to go to a friend's house till they hear from me. Honey, I don't think you have to call Rebecca in St Louis, but whatever makes you feel better. I know, baby. It's gonna be OK. Put Tony on. I promise. I love you too.'
As soon as she handed the phone to Tony, Terry's voice went from comforting husband to cop in charge.
'Nora and Julia are dead. Shot. Same as Jo Drabyak. Three partners in this house-flipping business have been murdered, and I don't want my wife and yours to be numbers four and five. Get the two of them and Diana out of the building.'
There was a short pause while Tony did the talking, then Terry jumped back in. 'What I would do,' he said, 'is pull the plug on the party and lock up the house. Just tell everyone that Nora took sick, and shut it down without going public with the truth. Good. We're on the same page. Mike and I are at Nora's house. We'll send a couple of units to back you up. You're welcome, bro. See you soon.'
He hung up. There was a roll of paper towels on the counter. He pointed to it. I tore some off and began to wrap it around his bloody left hand, while he called for Tony's backup. When he finished, he gave me my cell back.
'Sorry,' he said. 'I got blood all over your phone.'
'What happened?' I said.
'I'm no Sherlock Holmes,' he said, looking down at Julia, 'but I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that someone put a bullet through her head.'
'What happened to you, asshole?'
'Oh, that. I sliced my hand on this Pellegrino bottle.'
There was a shattered green bottle on the floor. It must have been full when it broke, because the pool of red around Julia was a lot more liquid than could possibly have come from the single dot in the middle of her skull.
'It looks like Julia tried to fend off her killer with a litre of imported sparkling water,' Terry said. 'Never the best choice against a gun. All she managed to do was get the floor sopping wet, so the first cop on the scene would slip on it, cut open his hand and wet his pants.'
'There's a medic out there,' I said.
'What I really need is a dry cleaner. These are my good pants.'
One of the cops walked in. 'Nothing upstairs, Detectives,' he said. 'And no sign of forced entry.'
'Keep everyone out till CSU gets here.' I said.
'No problem,' he said. 'Detective Lomax, I know you're busy in here, but you know that big guy out there - the one who found the bodies?'
'What about him?'
'He's a major pain in the ass. Says he wants to talk to you. I told him to wait till you're good and ready.'
'What'd he say to that?' I asked. The cop laughed. 'He says he's your father.' I laughed along with him. 'He's full of shit,' I said. 'Tell him to wait.'
Chapter Twenty-One
Terry and I took stock of the kitchen. There was a phone cradle on the counter, but no handset. I pressed the locator button and heard it beep back from another room.
'Well, even if Julia heard Nora get shot, that solves the mystery of why she didn't dial 911,' Terry said.
He knelt down at the edge of the puddle of blood and Pellegrino. Julia was dressed for the evening. Black skirt, a silky blue blouse, heels. The hair near her left temple had been cut, and some of the little clippings were floating in the bloody soup.
'She's having a really bad hair day,' he said.
We walked back through the living room and took another look at Nora. Her hair too had been chopped.
'She's wearing sweats,' I said. 'I know the two of them were supposed to go shopping this afternoon. They must have come back here together, and Nora probably put on something comfortable and was planning on changing her clothes at the last minute. What time do you think she would have gotten dressed for the party if she was expecting Big Jim to pick her up at six fifteen?'
Terry gave me a blank stare. 'Mike, I'm the last guy you should be asking for fashion tips. I would have figured she was just gonna wear her gym clothes to the book signing.'
I looked at his hand. The blood had already soaked through the paper towels. 'You really should have EMS bandage that.'
He stood up. 'I'd rather try to solve this shit first before this maniac shoots my wife next.'
We went outside and found Big Jim. He had talked his way out of the backseat of the squad car and was standing in the road, cell phone to his ear. He saw us coming and snapped it shut. 'It's about time,' he said. 'One of your cops said something about bodies. As in more than one.'
'Julia's dead,' I said. 'Tell us what you heard, saw, and did from the time you got here.'
'I got here at six ten, five minutes early. I waited twenty minutes and called Nora from my cell. All I got was her machine. I said something like, "Pick up if you're there," but she didn't. So I got out of the car, walked up the steps, and rang the bell. No answer, so I tried the door, and it was open.'
'Open, like wide open, or open like not locked?'
'Open like an inch, so that it looks closed, but it's not latched, so when you push it, it opens.'
'Then what?'
'I knew something was wrong. I go in and call Nora's name. No answer, so I walk to the living room, and I see her on the floor. Dead. Then I called you.'
'On the phone you said she was shot. Did you hear anything?'
'No. But I could see the gunshot wound and there's blood on the floor by her head. I'm sorry, but I stepped in it.'
'Yeah, we saw your tracks. The crime lab will need your shoes, and since you touched the door, your prints. Then I want you to write out a statement.'
'Anything you need.'
'Terry and I have to get back to work. I'm going to have one of the officers stay with you.'
'OK. But I knew you were wrong about Julia.'
'Meaning what?'
'Did you really think she could kill her own mother?'
'No,' I said. 'Most people don't kill their parents. They just fantasise about it.'
He gave me the finger.
I gave him a quick hug and went back to the house.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jessica Keating was waiting for us at the front door.
'Nice going, Biggs,' she said. 'It's not every day that my lead detective bleeds all over the evidence.'
'Your job's been too easy lately,' Terry said. 'I decided to make it a little more challenging. And I didn't bleed all over. Just the kitchen. My partner's father helped out by slogging through the blood in the living room.'
'Darn,' she said. 'My guys followed those bloody footprints right out to the squad car. I figured the killer must have turned himself in. Give me your hand. I need a swab of your blood for my Dumb Cop file.'
'Only if you promise to bandage me up.'
Jessica took a blood sample from Terry, sprayed the cut with an antiseptic, and began wrapping it.
'I walked the scene,' she said. 'First impression - same MO on Mrs Bannister as on Jo Drabyak. Small-calibre bullet to the back of the head. The killer took a lock of hair. With Mrs Knoll it looks like she saw him coming and tried to defend herself with the Pellegrino bottle. He shot her head on. Then he cut the hair.'
'There's no sign of a forced entry,' I said. 'It looks like the shooter rang the bell, Nora knew him, and invited him in.'
'Him or her,' Jessica said.
'Right. Nora leads the way, she gets to the living room, the killer pops her from behind.'
'But he doesn't cut her hair yet,' Terry said.
'Why?' I already knew the answer, but Terry and I work best when we try to reconstruct
the crime out loud.
'Because he knows that Julia is in the kitchen,' Terry said, 'and he's got to do her right away.'
'How does he know she's in the kitchen?'
'OK, so maybe he doesn't know what room she's in, but he knows she's here somewhere. Otherwise, he'd have shot Nora and took off.'
'So Julia is in the kitchen,' I said. 'She hears a gun go off. Bang.'
'Or he used a silencer. But even if she did hear it, she's afraid to come running out. She's unarmed. She goes for the phone. It's not there. She hears him coming, so she grabs the bottle, but that's useless. He walks in, shoots her, she falls down, bottle breaks, end of story.'
'Not quite,' Jessica said. 'There are bits of green glass on the edge of the counter in the kitchen. I think she smashed it in the hopes of using it as a weapon.'
'Julia is so mousy,' Terry said. 'Hard to think of her breaking a bottle to fight someone off.'
'I work in a lab. You'd be amazed at what some mice will do when they're threatened. It's easy enough to check. The glass would break differently if it hit the ground when she fell. Not to mention that you wouldn't have glass chips on the edge of the counter.'
My cell phone rang. It was Sergeant Bethge, the assistant watch commander.
'Mike, Lieutenant Kilcullen should be there any minute. Same with Detective Burns. I held off calling Charlie Knoll to give you time to get squared away. I just got off the phone with him. He should be there in ten. What's the story on his wife?'
'Dead. We got a double homicide.'
'Oh, Jeez.' I heard him repeat the news to Jack Mullen. 'Mike, I have the medical liaison on the way. Charlie's gonna need him. Let me know if you need anything else.'
'Thanks, Carl.'
'One more thing,' Bethge said. 'You said Charlie was waiting for his wife and mother-in-law at the book party. It sounded to me like he started partying before they got there.'
'Drunk?'
Carl hesitated. 'Let's just say impaired.'
I hung up and turned to Terry. 'Brace yourself. Charlie Knoll is on his way.'
'And we get to break the bad news to him about his wife?'
'Unless you know someone else who'd be willing to do it.'
Jessica finished bandaging Terry's hand. 'Don't look at me, boys,' she said. 'I only work with the dead.'
'Thanks,' Terry said. 'In that case, I'm not scheduling another appointment.'
Chapter Twenty-Three
The second-biggest pain in the ass at a crime scene is having to put up with the vultures who want to capture it all on film. Since Nora was a semi-celebrity, there were more media trucks and paparazzi than usual. When word got out that one of victims was the second cop wife to be shot, all hell broke loose.
'If I ever meet the guy who taught civilians how to use police scanners,' Terry said, 'I will personally shove a five- thousand channel Bearcat up his ass.'
Fortunately Wendy Burns showed up. Wendy is one of those bosses who says 'How can I help?' more than she says 'What have you done for me lately?' She immediately offered to take over the job of keeping the gawkers and stalkers at bay.
'They must have taken twenty thousand pictures by now,' Terry said. 'How many more can they possibly need?'
'Maybe if you smile for one they'd go away,' she said.
'One more favour, Wendy,' I said. 'Big Jim found the body.'
'Got it. Don't let the press get near him,' she said.
'It's more like don't let him get near the press. Thanks.'
Kilcullen arrived just in time to help us deal with the first-biggest pain in the ass at a crime scene. The brass. Everyone from the chief on down was either there or on the way. And they'd have plenty of questions.
'You know the first thing they're going to ask,' Kilcullen said. 'Is somebody targeting cops' families?'
'We can't say for sure,' I said, 'but these three victims were all in business together. Business means money. And money is a motive for murder. I think it's about these women and not about the fact that their husband or their son-in-law is a cop.'
'You're probably right,' Kilcullen said. 'But we should still let the wife of every cop on the force know that her life may be in danger.'
'None of my business, Loo,' Terry said, 'but I wouldn't do that if I were you.'
Whatever friction there was between the two of them, Kilcullen still respected Terry's instincts. 'Why not?' he said.
'Because if the morning paper reads like it's just some business deal gone sour, the average cop will turn to the sports section. But if a cop thinks someone is targeting his old lady, the first thing he's going to do is give her a gun. And what do you think will happen then?'
Kilcullen has good instincts himself. He laughed. 'A lot of cops are going to come home drunk and wind up getting shot by their wives.'
'Give that man a kewpie doll,' Terry said.
'Thanks, Biggs,' Kilcullen said. 'I'll go talk to the...oh, shit. It's Charlie.'
Charlie Knoll was running through the maze of parked cars. 'Lomax. Biggs. Where's my wife?'
Kilcullen still had time to walk off and deal with the brass. To his credit, he didn't.
Charlie raced up to the three of us. He was sweating, dishevelled, and smelling of booze. Kilcullen stepped up to the plate. He put a hand on each of Charlie's shoulders.
Charlie already knew what was coming, but he went through the motions anyway. 'Julia,' he whimpered.
Kilcullen shook his head. 'I'm so sorry, Charlie. Both Nora and Julia were shot. They're dead. I promise we'll get whoever did this.'
Charlie's face contorted, and then the grief, the anger, and the alcohol took over. He shoved Kilcullen out of the way and ran toward the house.
It took the three of us and two patrol officers to stop him.
'It's a crime scene,' Kilcullen said. 'You know you can't go in there.'
'I want to see her. I want to see both of them.'
'Not till we're done,' Kilcullen said. 'You'll contaminate the scene.'
That was true. Of course, with Big Jim's bloody footprints, Terry taking a nosedive on the kitchen floor and commingling his blood with Julia's, plus a platoon of cops tromping from room to room to room, the crime scene was now about as immaculate as a three-dollar hooker. But there was another reason we couldn't let Charlie go in. The husband is Suspect One. If he answers one of our questions with something that only the killer could know, we don't want him to explain it away by saying he saw it when we gave him a tour of the house.
'It might be a good idea if you gave us your gun,' Kilcullen said.
'Is that the rule now?' Charlie screamed. 'The killer gets to keep his gun and the victim's husband has to turn his in? This is insanity. Who would kill a cop's family? First Reggie. Now me. You guys should get home and protect Marilyn and Diana. Terry, what about your kids? How do we know who's next? I'm not turning in my—'
He grabbed his chest and started gasping for breath.
Several cops were standing around in case we needed help. I yelled at the closest one. 'Get a paramedic.'
Charlie was hugging his chest. 'No, no. It's just an anxiety attack,' he said gasping for air. 'I get them. I'm OK. I'm OK.'
'You're not OK,' Kilcullen said. 'You can't breathe. Sit down.'
Charlie let us ease him down to one of the white marble steps leading up to Nora's house. Two EMS workers came running. We gave them some room.
'Can you guys take it from here?' Kilcullen said. 'I've got BUTA, all the way up to the Top Cop waiting to talk to me.'
'No problem,' I said. 'Thanks for staying. It helped.'
He grunted something that sounded positive, then made his way toward the sea of flashing lights, where the brass was waiting to crawl up his ass.
Five minutes later the same paramedic who was first on the scene gave us the report on Charlie. 'His BP is high, rapid heartbeat, and I don't have a Breathalyzer, but I recommend taking his car keys.'
'What about the chest pains? He says it's just an anxiety
attack.'
'Famous last words,' the paramedic said. 'Look, he may be right. His wife was just killed, he's way hyper, and his heart's in normal sinus rhythm, but he needs more than a field cardio check-up. I want to take him to Cedars.'
'Keep him there overnight,' I said. 'We'll have two of our guys follow you, just to make sure he doesn't decide to check out early.'
Terry and I walked over to talk to Charlie. He was sitting quietly inside the tail of the ambulance.
'I can't begin to tell you how sorry we are,' I said.
'I know,' he said. 'Terry, I wasn't kidding. Marilyn is a partner. Make sure she's OK.'
'Thanks. I will.'
'Charlie, you need to get to a hospital,' I said.
He nodded. Total acceptance.
'Stay overnight. Terry and I will be there to talk to you in the morning.'
'Is there anything I can tell you guys now,' he said, 'besides I didn't kill them?'
'We know you didn't. Do you have any idea who did?'
He put his hand over his eyes and shook his head. His body started shaking. The paramedic tapped me on the shoulder, then drew his finger across his neck. The interview was over.
We helped Charlie into the ambulance and sent him off to the hospital. But first we took his gun.
This time we didn't even have to ask.
Chapter Twenty-Four
'Biggs!'
It was Kilcullen.
'The chief agrees. The motive on this case looks like it's about this real estate business. If we issue a department-wide warning that our wives are all a potential target, every one of them will wind up armed to the teeth.'
'Did you tell him it was my idea?' Terry said.
'I was going to, but then he said, "That's real smart thinking, Brendan," and the moment passed.'
Two squad cars came around the corner and pulled as close to the house as the helter-skelter of vehicles would allow. Tony's white Escalade pulled in behind them.
'Our dates for the evening have arrived,' Terry said.
Marilyn is not the hysterical type, but she was as close to it as I've ever seen. She got out of the car, saw Terry, and ran toward him. He met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her. He rocked her back and forth, while she buried her face in his chest and sobbed.
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