A Clean Kill

Twenty-nine

The fortress like white stucco facade of the modem house where Alison Perkins had lived looked out of place on a block where redbrick apartment buildings dominated, and so did all the police vehicles. April was still reeling from the shock of a second death as Lily Eng caught sight of the car and hurried over before Mike shut down the engine.

"What took you so long?" she complained.

"Hey, Lily." April shook her head. They'd gotten a late start this morning, and the traffic had been heavy coming in. There was no need to say any of that. Besides, slJ.e was already working the case and didn't feel like chitchat.

They'd both been on the phone all the way into the city. Mike had talked with Sergeant Minnow, who hoped that Alison's death had been natural— a fluke of some kind like a heart attack. She was in bed. No one had touched her. April had called Sergeant Gelo from her cell, and Eloise started her report as soon as she heard her boss's voice.

"We went to Spirit, Ice, and Ramp last night," she said.

"What did you find out?" April asked.

"No one in the clubs remembers who was with Peret two nights ago. The owners all say they check IDs, and Peret couldn't have gotten in. They say he must have bought whatever he took somewhere else. Yada yada. Three of the girls were off yesterday, though, and I have their names."

"Well, talk to all the girls. With the right incentive someone will spill."

"We can do better than that. We have the kid's cell phone. We know where he went because he called some friends to join him. So we have him inside a club. Looks like Spirit."

"That's great news. Was the phone on him?"

"No, and the responding officer thought that was suspicious. Every kid has a cell, right? So he searched the scene after Peret was taken to the hospital, found it, and brought it in."

"Good going. Remember his name."

"Charlie checked out the kid's last calls and his incoming calls. Two of the girls who work at Spirit are in his phone list. One of them actually called him and left a message yesterday. So we're talking to her later. Have you heard about Mrs. Perkins?" Eloise changed the subject.

"Yes. I'm on my way over there now. I want you to do a few things for me, okay?" April asked. Eloise had worked yesterday and last night, but she was on the job again today.

"No problem."

"Look, I know you're not familiar with the Wilson case, but I need you on this. I made a tape of my conversation with Alison Perkins yesterday. Get your hands on it, and make a copy. We'll have to give the original to the task force on the case right away. We've got two nanny suspects, now. Alison's nanny was the one who found her body. I want you and Hagedorn to check her out. Do a deep background on both of the girls, Remy Banks and Lynn Papel. Papel is spelled Peter, Apple, Peter, Egg, Lester. I have a freaky feeling about this. Really freaky. You can start with the employment agency. It's Anderson."

''Yes, boss." Eloise was silent for a moment. "What are you looking for?"

I'm not sure yet. We're still working on the Wayne Wilson angle. He could have persuaded Remy to kill Maddy. Alison's death could just be an attempt to confuse us on Maddy's, or to shut Alison's mouth. She talked a lot yesterday. One of the husbands could have done this. The two men are friends—maybe they had a plan. But we also need to check for other connecting points. Find out if the nannies knew each other before they went to work for Wilson and Perkins, what's in their job files. Were they ever in trouble? Hagedorn knows how to do it."

"So do I," Gelo muttered.

"Yes. That was good work you did last night. Good thinking on the phone. Call me with whatever you get."

April ended the conversation and stared out the window at the traffic. Immediately she started brooding on the time of Maddy's, and now Alison's, death. Early morning was a highly unusual time for murder. Night was the dangerous time because that's when people came home from work, had cocktails, got ready for dinner, ate their dinner, and let loose their pent-up emotions and frustrations from the day. They quarreled about lovers, work, children—being too close, or too far away. Night was when people drank, tempers flared, and violence occurred most often.

Morning was usually the aftermath. It was the cooldown time when the law responded with arrests. When the sun came up, aggressors and, victims had heavy heads; they had jobs to go to. Often they were remorseful and vowed not to hurt each other again. Victims felt guilty for inciting rage cin their partners and, later, for drawing attention to their plight with their injuries. After a fight, if an arrest was forthcoming, officers tried to go in the morning. Normally, people did not kill or get killed over coffee and toast. But suddenly there were two cases in which, within twenty-four hours, two close friends, each with two little children, had died during this usually safe time. For these two women, morning was their window of vulnerability, and the killer knew that. To April, it had become a very personal case. But she made sure she showed none of this when she faced the news shark Lily Eng, who was waiting to be fed her pound of human flesh.

"Why didn't you call me back last night?" she demanded as April got out of the car.

"I worked late, and I can't talk now. Sorry, Lily," April told her. "Maybe later."

"Wait a minute—you weren't working late. I saw you on the news having dinner with Wayne Wilson. Come on, give me a little something. Has he been cleared as a suspect, or what?"

Mike came around- to the passenger side. "Hi,

Lily. You know we weren't having dinner with anyone," he said, gently scolding her.

She gave him an innocent smile. "Okay, so you weren't eating with him. But you were there. I could make something of it if I wanted to."

"What's the matter with you?" April said sharply. They didn't have time for this. She started across the street, but Lily followed her.

"I happen to know you spent the afternoon with Alison Perkins yesterday. And today she's dead. There. may be a connection. What do you have to say about that?"

April's breath caught on the lump in her throat. That was the other question she'd been asking herself all the way into the city. She knew she should never respond angrily to anything Lily said, but the persistent reporter's little jabs always seemed to hit home. Lily had a way of knowing where April had been and what she was doing. Too bad she wasn't a spy for the home team. She looked as if she badly needed to cut down on her caffeine intake, and she was right on target about Alison. Whenever detectives investigated an unnatural death, the first question they asked was, what was the precipitating event? For all April knew, her own close questioning of the young woman might well have triggered the murder. Mike put a calming hand on her arm.

"Oh, come on, I know where you are all the time, so give me a break. I could be helpful." Lily trotted alongside them.

April shook her head. She didn't need a helpful journalist.

"Okay, just tell me one thing. Is it a serial killer, two different killers? What?"

Mike was the one to throw Lily a tidbit. "Why don't you hold your horses, Lily? This may not be what you think at all. We don't know what caused her death yet. It could be a natural." He shrugged.

"No way!"

April's breakfast wasn't sitting well with her. “We'll let you know when we do, okay?"

"I guess I can't ask for more than that." Lily backed off as they got to the police tape. Mike and April went under it and up the stairs into the house.