A Clean Kill

forty-three

The task force gave itself an informal name: Town House Killer. The p.m. meeting was j ammed. Every chair and desk corner was taken, and the tension was tremendous. April took a low profile in the back by the door, and Mike sat up front, near Sergeant Minnow. As the primary on the case, Minnow led the meeting. He was milking his role to the fullest, allowing the minutes to tick away as he slowly went through the reports. Detectives had begun canvassing people in the neighborhood, especially those with windows that overlooked the town houses below and the neighbors who lived on the two blocks where the murders occurred.

In the days to come, the search for witnesses would widen. Detectives and uniformed officers had been going through the bags of garbage left out on the street for pickup. The Crime Stoppers Unit had been out both days and its hotlines were flooded with hundreds of tips corning in. It would take days to process them. When the operations reports were concluded, - Minnow talked about where they were with the suspects. Wayne's life had become a media event for reporters. The cops were assembling the minutiae of his life for detailed examination. His affairs, expenses, and phone records, as well as his comings and goings in the last six months, were being analyzed to see if his habits had changed. His close associates were being questioned. He'd been interviewed again and didn't have anything new to add. His alibi for the time in question was strong, and his statement was being prepared. Andrew Perkins, whom Remy had reported as so cocky and sure advising his friend the day before, was now in such a state of shock from the murder of his wife that he could barely form a sentence. He and his little girls were under a doctor's care at his brother's home in New Jersey. At the time of his wife's murder, he'd been in a meeting at his office. Derek was off the hook for the murders, though he was being questioned in regard to the amount of money he'd received from the victims as well as the illegal substances he may have provided them. Furthermore, the personal phone, bank, and credit card records of Maddy and Alison were being examined for more insight and information about their last days. Everything took time.

The electrifying moments in the meeting came when April spoke about the contents of the Alison tapes, as well as Detective Hagedorn and Sergeant Gelo's visit to Jo Ellen Anderson at the Anderson Agency and the files of Lynn and Remy that had been taken from there. Although the two nannies were being looked at as strong suspects, Minnow hadn't listened to the interview of the second victim, nor had he sent anyone to the agency to get the histories of the suspects. So much for the helpfulness of her attempt at transparency. He was pretty pissed off.

Toward the end of the meeting, the DA was pressed for his opinion of the cases. April was glad that the veteran Ben was in attendance again. He pulled on his shirt collar as he thought about it. "Who has a reason to want us to assume those girls did the unthinkable? That person is your killer. Maybe his goal is to hurt them." He shrugged as a big argument ensued over that view. It wasn't much of a motive. Mike Sanchez listened, but didn't say a thing for over two hours.

At ten thirty, April left her car near the Seventeenth Precinct for the second night in a row and began the drive home with her husband. The meeting had been tough for her to take, as it must have been for Mike. She liked helping people, but had never had much tolerance for the organizational aspect of criminal investigations, especially when she wasn't the primary. No matter how carefully things were done, there were always mistakes. There were mistakes here. Something was being overlooked. She kept wondering, who left the short red hair in Alison's powder room? Not the maid who'd cleaned the house the day before. She'd made a point of asking Lynn about that.

"She's from Equador," Lynn had said. "Her hair is jet black."

April had shown her Woody's photos. "Do you know any of these people?" she asked.

Lynn picked out some faces of people she'd seen on the street many times but didn't really know. She pointed at the redhead and said, "That's Leah. She's around a lot."

"What's Leah's last name?"

Lynn shook her head. "I don't know."

"Where does she live?"

"Across the street somewhere." She didn't add anything else on the subject.

April was working out of two places with two unconnected units, and had too many things roiling around in her head. While she was in the Seventeenth her thoughts were back at Midtown North, where Eloise was turning out to be a very smart detective. And Minnow made it very clear that he wanted her people out of the picture. But everybody needed their own people for comfort, and April was no exception. She had promised to play nice, but she didn't know if she could.

After the meeting had ended, she didn't want to leave the city. The killer was out there somewhere, and it made her nervous to think he (or she) was holed up somewhere, waiting for morning. She reminded herself that serial killers usually targeted people no one cared about, prostitutes and runaways—not high-life mothers who lived in expensive town houses. But everything about this was unusual. Remy and Lynn were being watched.

She sat in Mike's car as they crossed town, wishing it were already tomorrow so she didn't have to feel as if she were letting Maddy and Alison down by running away to get some rest. If only she and Mike had a place to sack out somewhere close, and did not have to travel forty-five minutes for a few hours' sleep. But they didn't have such a place, and her frantic phone calls to Gao Wan had not panned out. He was taking her father's spot at the midtown restaurant where they both worked, and had not been able to go up to Westchester to remove her parents from her house. They were still there, and they had to be dealt with.

"Thanks for getting Lynn and Remy taken care of," she said after a long silence. Mike had found two secure places for them to stay where no one could find them and they couldn't talk to each other or anyone else.

"No problem," he mumbled, also not in a talkative mood.

As they got on the Henry Hudson Parkway and headed north, a spring shower commenced. April watched him flip on the wipers and felt an ache for the old Mike who'd thought only of her. In the months since they'd married, he'd become less watchful of her and dependent on her moods for his happiness. Mostly she liked the change. But occasionally when his boat was rocked by things that were out of his control, he seemed to slip away and forget about her. It made her feel lonely. Right then she knew he was angry at Sergeant Minnow for not following through quickly enough and not widening the net. And she wondered if there were other instances in which the CO of the detectives' unit had let him down.

The spatter of rain on the windshield intensified into a torrent. Mike turned the wipers all the way up, but the downpour impeded his vision. Suddenly they were in a blinding storm. Lightning struck, and the crack of thunder that followed was as loud as anything April had ever heard.

"Ow, that was close," she said.

Mike took his hand off the wheel and grabbed her cold fingers. "It's going to be fine, querida," he said, and she was relieved that he was still with her.

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

"Then do me a favor and slow down."

"Sissy," he muttered, but complied immediately. Then he was ready to talk. "So what's going on?" he asked.

"Fish and Jell-O are two food groups that don't mix," she replied.

"Yeah, well, Minnow's threatened. Gelo's better than he is, looks like a comer."

"She certainly does," she murmured. "What about you? Why were you so quiet?"

He made a face at the highway that was beginning to flood in all the usual places. "Like the old days, huh?"

"Your kind of weather," she agreed. He'd always liked steamy cars at night. She couldn't help reminding him that they were passing a dangerous curve where several fatal wrecks had occurred. "Slow down."

"Yes, ma'am." He slowed for another fifteen seconds with his hand still on hers. It was kind of a nice touch.

Then thunder struck close by again, and April flashed to their race through Central Park one night long ago, chasing a teenage killer on a night just like this one. They went back a long way, and hadn't crashed yet. She tried to relax.

"I talked with both Remy and Lynn for many hours. They're not telling me everything, and that's troubling," she said after a moment.

"You think they're involved somehow?"

"I think they know things they're afraid to tell. Maybe about Jo Ellen, maybe the two husbands. It's not clear. What worries me is that something else will happen."

"Let's hope not. What about our trip?" He knew his customer, changed the subject, and moved on.

"I'd forgotten about it," she said simply.

"Well, maybe we'll get a break tomorrow," he said, and sped up again on a straight stretch of highway that he knew so well.

He kept on through the driving rain, and when they finally reached home and saw that the lights were. on, April was almost glad her parents were still there. For once there would be hot food waiting for them. Tonight Skinny Dragon was at the door screaming at them before the engine was off. The sound carried through the storm.

"Ayieee. Why so late? Wait so long for dinner," she yelled as if she wanted the whole neighborhood to know her grievance. "What's long with you? Don't know work supposed to be over? Time to go home?" Skinny shrieked out that she'd worried all day. Nobody came to check on them or bring them food. What kind of bad daughter didn't take care of her sick old mother? "Why no call, ni? 'Nother murder?" she demanded at last.

"That's it, Ma."

"Ayiee," Skinny wailed. Another murder meant the ghosts of the dead were too close to her precious daughter again.

April made it through the front door without further assault and was horrified to see that a mirror had been placed in a strategic position by the door, the dreaded colored strings hung from the corners of the living room, and a few things moved around to suit the Dragon's idea of optimum feng shui. It looked as if she was planning an intervention on April's health and intended to stay awhile.

"Ni hao ma. What's for dinner?" Mike asked with a faint smile. He had learned the Chinese way. He'd become a man who knew when to pick his battles.

"I hope it's not something weird," April muttered.