Capitol murder

Chapter Nineteen

The city of Georgetown was founded in 1751 and was a major port and commercial center in colonial times. It was assimilated into the District of Columbia in 1871 and was Washington’s fashion and cultural center until the capital grew and new Victorian homes and Gilded Age mansions were built closer to the centers of government. The area went into a steady decline until members of the Roosevelt administration moved there in the 1930s, and it became one of Washington’s most fashionable residential areas again after Georgetown resident John F. Kennedy became the thirty-fifth president of the United States.

Many of the homes in Georgetown’s tree-lined residential area are two-hundred-year-old row houses with beautiful gardens. The three-story house where Jessica Koshani was staying stood back from the street on a small tree-shaded lot. Brad had gotten a quick look around when he brought Koshani’s bags in from the car. The downstairs living room was furnished with elegant French Provincial furniture. The theme continued upstairs. There was a grandfather clock in the second-floor hallway and a four-poster bed in the bedroom where he had left Koshani’s valises. Brad thought the house was pretty classy.

There hadn’t been any lights on when Brad dropped off Koshani on Friday night, and there were no lights that he could see Monday morning. As he walked up the path to the front door, it dawned on him that he had been to the senator’s home in Virginia for a staff picnic shortly after he started. The house had been built at the turn of the twentieth century on several acres of farmland and was within reasonable commuting distance of the Capitol. Brad wondered why the senator also owned a second house in town. Of course, Senator Carson was rich, and he might have bought it as an investment or for out-of-town guests or just because he wanted to.

Brad rang the doorbell and waited. After a reasonable amount of time, he rang the bell again. When there was still no answer, he started to worry. Senator Carson had given him the phone number for the house in case he had to talk to Koshani for some reason, and Brad had programmed it into his cell phone. He let the number ring ten times before cutting the connection.

What to do? Brad hesitated, then grabbed the doorknob and twisted. The door opened an inch. Brad was surprised, and he held the door so that the only view of the interior was through a narrow slit. He dreaded the idea of entering the house uninvited and bumping into Koshani. How embarrassing would that be? But it was getting late.

“Miss Koshani, it’s Brad Miller, your driver,” he shouted.

When there was no response, Brad shouted a little louder before opening the door the whole way and stepping into the vestibule. He was about to call Koshani’s name again when he saw someone sitting in the middle of the living room. The curtains were drawn, and there was very little light, so he had to squint into the shadows that cloaked the room. He still couldn’t make out much.

“Miss Koshani?”

There was no answer and no movement. Brad’s heart beat faster. There was a sickening smell in the air and Brad was certain he knew what was causing it. He wanted to run out of the house, but he held his breath to keep from inhaling and forced himself to inch forward. Jessica Koshani was tied to a high-backed chair. She was naked, she was covered in blood, and there was a gag in her mouth. Hideous things had been done to her.

Brad knew he shouldn’t enter a crime scene, and he started to back out of the house when a thought stopped him. Brad leaned forward and squinted at the dead woman. What he saw made his stomach roll. He definitely wanted to run now, but he needed to know if he was right. Brad forced himself to approach Koshani’s corpse. She had been horribly mutilated. What terrified Brad was the fact that he had seen photographs of other women who had been defiled in a similar manner.

There was one more thing Brad had to see before he could leave. Koshani’s arms were secured behind her back. He circled the body, stepping around and over pools of blood that covered sections of the rug. When he was behind Koshani, Brad forced himself to look at her hands. Clarence Little had hacked off a pinkie from each of his victims to keep as a souvenir. Jessica Koshani’s right hand had only four fingers.

B rad staggered out of the house into the light, feeling dizzy and sick to his stomach. He collapsed on the front stoop and took slow, deep breaths. As soon as he regained his composure, he took out his cell phone and punched in the senator’s number. The phone rang several times before a recording told him to leave a message. Brad called the office.

“I need to talk to the senator right away,” Brad told the receptionist. “It’s an emergency.”

“He’s not here, Brad.”

“Did he go to the Intelligence Committee hearing?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him this morning.”

“What about Mr. Sharp? Is he in?”

“He’s not here, either.”

Brad thought for a minute. “Okay, if you see them, have them call my cell immediately. Something has come up they need to know about right away.”

Brad hung up and called 911. While he waited for the police, he called Ginny.

“Hi, honey,” Ginny said. “What’s up?”

“We might have a problem,” Brad said. “I’m at the house where Jessica Koshani is staying.”

“Who is Jessica Koshani?”

“The woman I picked up at the airport on Friday for the senator. She was staying at a house Carson owns.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“She was murdered, and Clarence Little may have killed her. It’s his MO down to the missing pinkie.”

“Why would Clarence Little kill this Koshani woman?” Ginny asked, incredulously.

Brad felt sick again. “It could be me, Ginny. Clarence might have done it to get at me. If he’s here and he followed me to the airport, he would know where Koshani was staying, and he might have guessed that I’d drive her again or at least learn how she died.”

“Where exactly are you now?”

“Outside the house.”

“Have you called the police?”

“Yes, right before I called you.”

“That’s good, but I don’t like you being out there all alone. If Little killed Koshani, he could still be around.”

Brad was so distraught that he hadn’t thought of that possibility. His heartbeat sped up and he cast anxious glances around the neighborhood.

“I don’t see anything suspicious, but I’m worried about you. Can you call Dana and ask her to escort you home?”

“You think that’s necessary?”

“Probably not, but I’ll feel better knowing you’re protected. Right now I’m still upset and not thinking straight. We’ll decide what to do tonight after I’ve had time to calm down. The big thing now is that I want to be sure you’re safe.”

B rad stayed at the crime scene, answering questions. Then he was taken to police headquarters, where he gave a statement. He didn’t get into the office until a little after two. As soon as he walked in the door, the receptionist told him that Lucas Sharp had just arrived and wanted to talk to him.

“Does he know about the murder?” Brad asked.

“Two detectives were here to talk to the senator. They left when they found out he wasn’t in, but they told me why they needed to talk to him, and I told Mr. Sharp.”

As Brad walked down the hall to Lucas Sharp’s office, the staff members gave him odd looks, then turned away quickly. Gossip moved swiftly through the halls of Congress.

“How are you doing?” Sharp asked with great concern as soon as Brad walked in.

“I’m much better now, but I was pretty rocky for a while.”

“Sit down. Do you want water or something stronger?”

“Water would be good,” Brad said as he lowered himself onto one of the chairs on the other side of Sharp’s desk. Lucas walked over to a small refrigerator and brought Brad a bottle of water.

“What are the police saying?” Sharp asked.

“Nothing to me,” Brad said after he took a few sips. “It’s probably too soon for them to draw any conclusions, anyway. The forensic people weren’t done when they took me downtown. I told them about Clarence Little, and they’re contacting the authorities in Oregon.”

“What does Little have to do with Koshani’s murder?”

“I only got a quick look at the body…” Brad paused and swallowed as his body reacted to the gruesome memory of what he’d seen in Senator Carson’s living room. “She looked like Clarence’s other victims, and the killer took her pinkie.”

“Good God! Why would Little be here in D.C.?”

“I have no idea. Does the senator know about Miss Koshani?”

“I haven’t had a chance to tell him. He’s at his cabin in Oregon. It’s very remote and there’s no cell phone service or Internet.”

“Why is he in Oregon? Koshani was supposed to testify today.”

Sharp hesitated. Then he looked directly at Brad and stared hard enough and long enough to make Brad nervous.

“I’m going to tell you something in confidence,” Sharp said. “You’ve got to promise me this will stay between us.”

“Of course.”

“We received campaign contributions from friends of Koshani’s, large contributions. That’s not a problem, but Koshani could be. You were at the committee meeting when InCo was mentioned. That’s one of Koshani’s companies. If one of her companies helps finance a terrorist attack and Jack’s name is linked to hers… Well, I don’t have to spell out what the consequences could be. We thought it would be best if Jack was someplace where the press couldn’t get at him in case someone leaked what went on at the hearing.”

“I can see why you’re worried, but you’ve got to tell the senator.”

“I will. I just hope no one digs into the reason Koshani was in Washington. Now why don’t you head home? I don’t want you being hounded by the press, and you can use some downtime after what you just went through.”

S harp arranged for one of the interns to drive Brad home. Even though it was midday and the sun was shining, Brad looked up and down his street before he got out of the car. The stairwell that led to his apartment was suddenly as dark and foreboding as the stairs in a haunted house. Every sound made him startle, and his imagination turned every shadow into Clarence Little.

Brad didn’t relax until he had locked himself in and toured his apartment, clutching the biggest knife he could find. As soon as he was certain he was alone, he fixed himself a stiff drink and sank down on the couch.

Brad heard a key turn in the lock a little after six. He grabbed the knife and stood up. When he heard Ginny’s and Dana’s voices, he put the knife on the end table. Ginny rushed to Brad and hugged him.

“That had to be horrible. Are you okay?” Ginny asked.

“Now that I know you’re safe, I’m fine.”

Brad turned to Dana. “Thanks for playing bodyguard.”

“Anytime.”

“I’m really worried,” Brad said.

“Yeah, well, you should be,” Dana answered. “I made a call to one of my friends at the D.C. police, a detective in Homicide. He told me some of the preliminary findings. There were signs of a struggle on the landing outside the second-floor guest room. It looks like she tried to fight off her assailant.”

“Did any of the neighbors see or hear anything?” Ginny asked.

“No,” Dana said, “but it’s looking a lot like Clarence Little is involved. Portland sent the autopsy and crime-scene photos in Little’s cases. The MO is very similar. The major difference is that Koshani was tortured and killed where she was staying. In the Oregon cases, Little abducted his victims, then tortured them for days before dumping them far from the place where he held them.”

Something occurred to Brad. “Clarence hasn’t had a victim in years. I can’t believe he wouldn’t take time to…”

Brad could not finish his thought. He felt ill just thinking about the suffering Koshani and Little’s other victims had endured.

“You’re right,” Ginny said. “He’d have all that sexual energy pent up inside him. He’d want to enjoy himself. So why the quick kill?”

“The only thing I can think of is that he was sending a message to me, telling me that he’s here,” Brad answered. “I just don’t get why. I know he’s not normal, but I helped him out. And he’s escaped from death row. You’d think he’d want to go underground. Why risk everything to threaten me?”

“Is it possible that Koshani was his target all along and the murder had nothing to do with you?” Ginny asked.

“She does live in Oregon,” Brad said. “Clarence could have met her there.”

“There’s another possible explanation for the quick kill,” Dana said. “The MO is almost identical to the MO in the Little cases, but unlike the Oregon cases, many of the torture wounds were postmortem.”

“They were made after she died?” Ginny asked.

Dana nodded. “The medical examiner is guessing that she died unexpectedly while she was being beaten.”

“That would explain why she wasn’t abducted and why the torture wasn’t drawn out,” Brad said.

“Exactly,” Dana said.

“Ginny told me that you met Koshani at the airport and were picking her up on Senator Carson’s orders this morning.”

Brad nodded.

“What was Koshani’s connection to the senator?”

“She was going to testify before the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence.”

“About what?”

“I don’t think I can tell you that without the senator’s permission. Everything that goes on in their sessions is secret.”

“This could have a bearing on why she was killed and whether you’re involved or just a bystander.”

“I know, but I can’t discuss what I heard in the committee session.”

Dana looked frustrated, but she knew better than to press Brad.

“I guess we’ll just have to proceed on the theory that Little might be a threat to you and Ginny until we know otherwise.”