Grain of Truth Page 16

  She guessed that was true, but a robbery still didn’t quite ring true for her. She pointed. “This is my apartment.”

  “Oh, great,” said the officer. He stopped and knelt down to examine her doorknob. “Looks to me like he picked the lock. I can see some faint scratches here from lock-picking tools.”

  “So, that’s how he got in, then.” She hugged herself. “Is it really that easy to pick a lock?”

  He straightened, shrugging. “It’s a skill, like anything else, I guess. Truth is, if someone’s determined to get into your house, he’s probably going to get in. Think about how hard it is for you to get inside your place if you’re locked out.”

  Well, it was easier in a place with windows, but she saw his point. She supposed she hadn’t thought of it before.

  The officer drew his gun and nodded at her. “You wait out here while I sweep the place and make sure it’s clear, all right?”

  “All right,” she said.

  He opened the door and went inside.

  She heard him moving around in there, going from room to room. In a few minutes, he called out to her that it was all clear and she could come in. She stepped into the apartment. It was bright inside now, all of the lights had been turned on by the officer checking it out.

  The first thing she did was to cross to the kitchen, which was divided from the living room by a marble breakfast bar. Her phone was still there, plugged in. She snatched it up and then went back to the bedroom.

  The officer was there, holding up her laptop. “Didn’t take this.”

  She showed him her phone. “Or this either.”

  “Well, then, I’d say you were lucky,” said the officer. “He didn’t take anything, and he didn’t hurt you.”

  She swallowed. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

  The officer set her laptop down on the air mattress. “You have any angry exes? Someone who might want to scare you or stalk you?”

  “No,” she said. “I mean, I suppose I do have an angry ex, but I know where he is, and this couldn’t have been him.”

  The officer cocked his head and pointed at her. “Hey, that’s right. I knew you looked familiar. You’re that attorney who used to work in Gathopolis. You work for the new CRU.”

  “Yes,” she said. She sighed. “I did have a thought that maybe this was work related. I’ve prosecuted a lot of criminals. Maybe they hold a grudge.”

  “Could be,” said the officer. “Or maybe it’s someone who doesn’t want you investigating the Mukherjee case. It’s before my time, but everyone’s worked up at the department about it. They all think you’re making a mistake and that those kids were guilty as sin.”

  “Everybody?” she said.

  He patted her on the shoulder. “Maybe you should find another case.”

  * * *

  Elke yawned as she came in to the office the next morning.

  Amos was already there. He usually greeted her with a big smile. He was a bubbly guy. Sometimes, he even had donuts. But this morning, his smile seemed a little forced. “Hard to get up this morning?” he said.

  “I had a hell of a night,” she said. “Someone broke into my apartment.”

  His jaw dropped. “No!”

  She nodded. “Yeah. And I filed a report and everything, but there’s nothing to go on. He wore a mask, and it was dark, and I have no idea what he looked like. He didn’t take anything. He didn’t try to hurt me. It’s really weird, like he was just there to screw with my head.”

  “You poor thing.” Amos got up and opened his arms. “You need a hug?”

  She laughed a little. “That’s okay.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Amos. “Hugs are good.” He stepped closer.

  She laughed more, but surrendered, letting herself become engulfed by Amos’s arms. She even hugged back. He let go of her.

  She smiled at him. “Thanks. You know, the officer at the scene said that it might be related to the Mukherjee case. Maybe someone’s trying to scare me off of it.”

  “You think so?” said Amos, who wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “Well, I got that weird email,” she said. “Which maybe isn’t related, but…”

  “You know something weird happened to me last night,” said Amos.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, maybe it was all in my head, but there was this guy named Dick on the elevator, and he was just… creepy somehow.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Creepy?”

  “Well, he was trying to pick me up, and at first, I thought that’s all it was. You know sometimes when a guy comes onto you, it’s just… off somehow?”

  “Sure,” said Elke. She got that, although she thought Iain would probably discount it as meaningless.

  “But then he said something about the case, asked me if I thought it was a good idea to be working it.”

  Elke made a face. “That’s not good. Did you get his last name?”

  “No, I didn’t, and I’m way ahead of you. First thing I did was go through the directory of everyone who works in the building. Nobody named Dick, nobody named Richard. I thought if I could figure out where he worked, I could avoid him, you know? But I don’t think he does work here.”

  Elke bit down on her lip. “That makes it even more suspicious, doesn’t it? Like he came here specifically to antagonize you.”

  At that moment, Frankie came in, looking out of sorts as usual. She was clutching a cardboard coffee cup, but she seemed to have spilled some on her coat. “Good morning,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. It was Thad’s bus.”

  “Not a problem,” said Elke. “I’m running late myself.” To Frankie’s credit, she hadn’t brought her son into the office again, and she’d cleaned the place where Thad had written his name on the wall.

  “You know, I was looking for more on Rory Gutierrez, and I’m fairly sure we’re missing the last page of the transcript of her interview,” said Frankie.

  Elke furrowed her brow. “Really? I thought I read over that.”

  “Well, on the top it says that there are four pages, and we only have three. I’ll show you.” Frankie started to head past them, probably going for her office.

  “No, that’s fine,” said Elke. “I can look in my file. I’ll call over and see if someone can help us out with that.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, they were all gathered in the conference room, including Amos.

  Elke paced. “And so, when I called over there, they confirmed that there was a missing page, and that it was in their file. I asked if they could send it over, and they said they were really busy and didn’t know if they’d be able to get to my request until next week.”

  “What?” said Frankie, putting her hands on her hips.

  “So I said that I would send someone over to fetch the page,” said Elke. “And to make a copy, if need be. And they said that they’d misplaced the file and they didn’t know where to find it.”

  “But they had it to know that there was a missing page,” said Amos.

  “Yes, I pointed that out to them,” said Elke. “They said, ‘Yes, we just had it, but we can’t find it now. We’ll let you know when it turns up.’” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “I can’t believe these files aren’t digitized,” said Iain. “It’s not as if this case was investigated before computers. That transcript was computer generated. There’s a file somewhere.”

  “Even worse,” said Elke. “They could probably email it to us, but they’re deliberately blocking us.” She turned to Iain. “I don’t suppose that you’ve got any good will over there? You used to work in the police department. Could you go and smooth things over with them?”

  Iain shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, I could try if you want, but honestly I’m not good at smoothing things over with people, and I’m not sure anyone in the department particularly likes me.”

  Elke sighed. She should have known that Iain wasn’t good at making friends. “Well, we need the file
, but this is bigger than that, because of what’s happening to Amos and me.”

  “Yes, I’m confused,” said Iain. “How does someone on the elevator and having your apartment broken into relate to this?”

  “Well,” said Elke, “the officer who took my statement last night said everyone in the department was upset about our investigation into the Mukherjee case. And thus far, they haven’t been helpful. Hell, we still haven’t gotten those DNA results.”

  “You think that a police officer is harassing you?” said Iain.

  “You think I’m reaching?” said Elke.

  Iain took a deep breath. “I don’t know. It seems extreme. Besides, it doesn’t seem right for a police officer to be essentially breaking the law.”

  Elke laughed softly. “Right, no police officer ever does that,” she said sarcastically.

  Iain raised his eyebrows. “Well, I guess you have a point. Still, aren’t there other options we should be pursuing?”

  “Like it’s related to the real murderer,” said Amos. “That was what I thought last night.”

  Elke nodded. “Of course, you’re right. This could be because we’ve put pressure on our suspects.”

  “It’s not likely to have been either Squires or Kelley,” said Frankie. “They’re in jail.”

  “They might have contact with someone on the outside,” said Iain. “The fact that they’re locked up works in their favor. It makes them look less guilty.”

  “True,” said Elke. “But it could have been Wheeler or Chapman in my apartment last night. The intruder was about the right height and build for either of them.”

  “It was definitely a man, though?” said Frankie. “It wasn’t Rory?”

  “She could have hired someone,” said Elke.

  “Or she could have a male friend who does her favors,” said Iain.

  “But if they wanted to scare me off the case,” said Elke, “why not do something overt, like write a message on the wall or something?”

  “Could be utterly unrelated,” said Iain. “Maybe the person had something to do with your own personal life. Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but your ex-husband is still connected to a network of drug dealers and other unsavory types? Maybe he sent someone to look in on you.”

  Elke felt her stomach turn over.

  “Anyway,” said Iain, “if something happens again, you should call me. I’m in the building, I can be there right away.”

  “Yes,” said Elke. “My phone wasn’t with me, and it’s amazing how difficult it was to think while all of it was happening. I’ll call you next time.”

  “Especially since we can’t be sure that someone from the department isn’t involved,” said Iain. “We really can’t trust anyone.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Elke stood at the counter in the records room. “I’m just here to see if you’ve found the Mukherjee file,” she said.

  “We did, actually,” said the woman behind the counter. From her voice, Elke was pretty sure it was the same woman she’d talked to on the phone.

  “Really?” Elke was surprised. “Well, that’s excellent news. Maybe things aren’t going as badly as I’d feared. Could I have it, please?”

  “Sorry, can’t,” said the woman.

  Things were going as badly as she’d feared. “Why not?” she said darkly.

  “Well, someone else checked it out,” said the woman.

  Elke was going to lose it. “Someone else…” She sucked in a long breath. “You know what? Never mind. Don’t you have a digital copy of these files somewhere? Can’t you simply email it to us?”

  “If I could have emailed it you, I would have.”

  “Would you? Would you really have?” Elke wasn’t so sure.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Fine. Who’s checked out the file?”

  “I don’t have any obligation to tell you that.”

  “I can’t see why anyone else would want the file,” said Elke. “My office is investigating this case, and we need to have priority because of that. No one else is investigating the case.”

  “That might be true,” said the woman. “But I still don’t have to tell you who has the file.”

  Elke stared her down. “You know what I think?”

  “I’m sure I don’t.”

  “I think you’ve got the file back there somewhere, and you’re keeping it from me because you’re under some misguided impression that I’m trying to do harm to someone. You’re convinced that the real killers are in jail and you think I’m going to free guilty murderers.”

  “Look, all I know—”

  “I can assure you, I have no intention of doing that. I’m trying to find the truth of the case. That’s all. The truth.”

  “Okay,” said the woman.

  “It’s my job to find the truth. And so I’m not leaving until I have that file.”

  The woman pursed her lips.

  Elke raised her eyebrows.

  They stared at each other for several moments.

  “I’m going to stand right here,” said Elke. “Until you figure out where you stashed it, and—”

  “Fine,” said the woman, her voice almost a whine. “I really don’t have the file. Someone did check it out.”

  “Who?”

  “The officers who investigated the case in the first place. James Meyer and Michael Banks.”

  * * *

  “Are you Banks and Meyer?” Elke peered around a partition on the main floor of the police department. There were partitions and desks scattered all over the place in what didn’t even seem like a discernible pattern to Elke. The place was packed, and everyone seemed busy. On the other side of this partition were two desks back to back, and two men were sitting at them, both busily typing on their computers.

  One looked up at her voice. “Michael Banks,” he said. “Yeah, that’s me. You need something?

  “Actually, yes,” said Elke.

  “Make it quick. I’m working a serial killer case here, not a lot of time.”

  Elke pursed her lips. “I was told you have the Mukherjee case file.”

  “Haven Hills Ripper,” said Banks. “Maybe you heard of him?”

  Meyer looked up too. “You’re the woman running that CRU business.”

  “I am,” said Elke.

  “You got some nerve, lady,” said Banks. “You really going to come over here and look in our faces and tell us you think we put the wrong people away?”

  Elke sighed. “Nothing’s been decided. We’re still investigating things.”

  “Look,” said Meyer. “How could you possibly look at this case and come to any other conclusion?”

  Elke took a deep breath. “Well, there’s a number of things. Primarily, I suppose, the accused have an alibi.”

  “By their own admission they were home for at least an hour,” said Meyer.

  “With the bodies,” said Banks. “Who does that?”

  Elke shrugged. “They said it was dark.”

  “You think they wouldn’t have smelled something? Besides, why didn’t that tip ‘em off? Why didn’t they think it was weird the house was dark?”

  “I think they were used to sneaking around after her parents had gone to sleep,” said Elke. “It is odd that they didn’t notice the blood, especially the spatter near the doorway. But I think it’s possible that they didn’t. And, with all due respect, I think you’ve hung the case on that one thing. You probably both thought it didn’t feel right, and you condemned them both right then.”

  Meyer shook his head. “You’re making it sound bad. But if you’d ever been a cop, you’d know that sometimes you trust your gut.”

  “Yeah, and we both had a gut feeling about this case,” said Banks. “And the evidence backed us up. I mean, it’s the family gun. You going to tell me some intruder knew how to get it out of the safe?”

  Elke remembered defending gut feelings to Iain. Funny that she was here, on the other side of the argument now. “We think that maybe
Dr. Mukherjee got it out himself, and it was taken from him somehow.”

  “That’s stupid,” said Meyer.

  “That’s convoluted,” said Banks.

  Elke licked her lips. “I’m not saying that we should never trust our gut, but I am saying that we have to look at the evidence. And besides the fact they walked past the crime scene, there isn’t much in the way of evidence. Saanvi and Kevin don’t even have a motive.”

  “There’s always some reason to kill your parents,” said Banks. “You only hurt the ones you love.” He smiled.

  “All right, well, perhaps we’re wrong,” said Elke. “If we are, I think we’ll come to the same conclusion you have.”

  “You already think they’re innocent,” said Meyer. “Who is it you think did it instead?”

  “They don’t have to prove that,” said Banks. “All they gotta do is find some reasonable doubt, right?”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, we happen to think that a pair of thieves, who were active at the time and who executed at least two other sets of victims in their homes while they were robbing them, are more likely the killers. This fits their profile. We’re simply waiting on the testing of the DNA samples.”

  Meyer and Banks stared at her, stony faced.

  “If the DNA matches, you couldn’t argue with that, could you?” she said.

  They didn’t reply.

  “All I want to do is make a copy of one page in that file. We’re missing the end of the transcript of the interview with Rory Gutierrez.”

  “If it’s all about the thieves, why are you looking at Gutierrez?” said Banks.

  “Just covering our bases,” said Elke. “Listen, this isn’t personal.”

  “The hell it’s not,” said Meyer.

  “Just one page,” said Elke. “Please.”

  Meyer and Banks exchanged a glance. And then Banks’s shoulders slumped. He handed the file over. “Knock yourself out, lady. Whatever you want. Not like we can stop you, anyway.”

  * * *

  When Elke got back to the office, she was greeted by the first good news she’d gotten in a while. Squires was out of solitary. Finally. She went to get Iain, and the two headed to the prison to talk to him.

  When they arrived, he was already waiting for them in a conference room, his hair wetly combed against his scalp. He had an earnest look on his pasty face, and he said he was glad they were there.