Most Wanted

Chapter Forty-five

Christine phoned Griff as soon as she got in the car, driving out of the city on the highway. It took her three calls in quick succession to reach him, but he finally picked up. “Griff, we need to talk. First, you need a cell phone.”

“I don’t want a cell phone.”

“Too bad. I’m buying you a cell phone.” Christine thought of what Detective Wallace had told her about Griff’s money. “Or you’re buying one for yourself. Either way, you need a cell phone because Zachary was injured at the prison yesterday and they couldn’t reach you.”

“I heard, today. It’s over.”

“He saved the guard’s life. Can you use that to get him moved to Chester County Prison?” Christine steered ahead in the fast lane, whizzing past a wide river that ran beside the highway. Brightly painted Victorian boathouses lined the far bank of the river. It was a lovely sight, but she was no tourist.

“No, they won’t do it.”

“But he’s in isolation, in ad seg.”

“It’s hell, but it’s safe. Pick your poison.” Griff didn’t sound happy. “Now what do you want?”

“I went to the crime scene, then I met with Zachary, his boss, and his girlfriend and-”

“You want applause?”

“No, but I was hoping I could fill you in and we could talk it over. I could use a sounding board, like last night.”

“I want to die without being anybody’s ‘sounding board.’”

Christine let it go. “How about I just fill you in? I’ll begin at the beginning, because it’s complicated-”

“What’s the headline?”

Christine collected her thoughts, driving into the sun as the highway curved to the left. She flipped her visor down. “Zachary lied about when he met Gail because he didn’t want his girlfriend to know he cheated twice-”

“Good answer.”

“-but the woman who used to be his girlfriend is no longer his girlfriend. His old girlfriend’s name is Hannah Dolan, but she’s not the woman paying half of his retainer.”

“Don’t care. Deposited the check. Can the old girlfriend give him an alibi for the night of the murder?”

“No.”

“Can she give him an alibi for the other murders, Allen-Bogen and McLeane?”

“I didn’t ask her, or him.”

Griff snorted.

“I’ll ask him next time.”

“What about the new girlfriend? Can she give him an alibi for any of the murders?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know about the new girlfriend until I met the old one-”

“Find out.”

“But I don’t know her. I’ll have to ask Zachary, unless your receptionist got the name of the woman who dropped off the cashier’s check.”

“I have no receptionist.”

“Whoever accepted the hand-delivery of the check, then.”

“Phyllis? She’ll do me no favors. That woman is a harpy.”

Christine let it go. “I’ll ask Zachary then.”

“Don’t tell me what you’re going to do, do it. That’s why you make the big bucks.” Griff chuckled at his own joke.

“Oh, you’re a laugh riot.” Christine accelerated. Traffic was thick but moving fast. If it stayed that way, she would make the vigil on time.

“Did the old girlfriend talk to the police?”

“No.” Christine considered telling Griff about the sex games that Zachary had tried, but she wasn’t sure if that fell into the category of good news. Also she didn’t want to give him a heart attack.

“How about the new girlfriend? Did she talk to the police?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are you?”

“On the way back.”

“Pick up a pizza, double cheese this time.”

“I’m not going to the office. I’m on my way to the vigil for Gail Robinbrecht.” Christine checked the dashboard clock, which read 1:32. “It starts at three o’clock.”

Griff sighed. “Okay. Good-bye and good luck-”

“No, wait, don’t hang up. What happened today? You were going to meet with the detectives from Virginia and Maryland.”

“I did.”

“So?” Christine joined the fast-moving traffic past the City Avenue exit, where the highway expanded, heading west.

“I also met with an A.D.A. from Chester County.”

“So tell me what he said. This would be communicating. We’re communicating.”

Griff groaned. “I don’t like to yap on the phone. I’ll tell you later.”

“I don’t want to wait. Just give me the headline.” Christine figured that turnabout was fair play.

“Bottom line, Chester County has significant trace evidence that ties Jeffcoat to Robinbrecht. They have his hair on her, fibers from his shirt on her, and they have his fingerprints on her skin and in her apartment.”

“But that’s explainable,” Christine said, defensive. “He found her. He touched her. He’s been with her. He’s been in her apartment twice. He told me all about it, how her blood got on him. I saw those pictures, and there’s no blood on his uppers, which corroborates his story-”

“No matter. Juries love hard evidence. He was found there and the knife and tourniquet are his merchandise. It’s strong circumstantial evidence.”

“But Zachary’s boss told me that Brigham’s bone saws are available in any hospital and you can get the tourniquets anywhere.”

“It’s not enough. Plus the Chester County coroner took a swab from Robinbrecht, and though the test results aren’t back yet, we know it is going to be Jeffcoat’s DNA. Again, it’s strong circumstantial evidence.”

“So they had sex, he admits that.” Christine knew more about Zachary Jeffcoat’s DNA than Griff could imagine.

“Still, DNA establishes the link, the connection.”

Christine didn’t need that explained. She understood the connection at soul-level.

“And now we know that it wasn’t his first visit to Robinbrecht’s apartment. They don’t know that we know that.”

“What about Maryland? What did those detectives say?”

“The murdered nurse was Susan Allen-Bogen at Bethesda General. Maryland can prove that Bethesda General is an account of Jeffcoat’s and that he was there that day, April 13, calling on them. Jeffcoat’s boss supplied copies of his hotel and gas reimbursement receipts. The police got him on EZ Pass cameras, and the hospital has him on its parking garage cameras.”

Christine’s heart sank. “But why would Zachary put in for reimbursement on a trip in which he killed somebody?”

“He has to. His boss knows he sent him there, and Jeffcoat regularly puts in for reimbursement. He wouldn’t be fooling anybody if he didn’t ask for reimbursement.”

“Well, the important thing is that Zachary doesn’t know Susan Allen-Bogen. He never met her. He never met either of the other nurses.”

“They have him in an elevator talking to Allen-Bogen, three hours before she was murdered. The security camera in the elevator got the footage.”

“Really?” Christine asked, aghast. “Did they show you this footage?”

“No, of course not. They told me they have it. I believe them even though they’re prosecutors.”

Christine tried to understand the legal procedure. “Why do they tell you what their proof is, in advance?”

“They do it to persuade me to let them talk to Jeffcoat. I got my free discovery, then I said no.”

Christine wondered if Zachary had lied about knowing Susan Allen-Bogen or if there was another explanation. “Maybe Zachary didn’t remember meeting Allen-Bogen. Maybe he didn’t even get her name. It’s circumstantial.”

“Uh-huh.” Griff was noncommittal. “Except that it’s the same pattern as Robinbrecht. He met her in the cafeteria that day, no text or phone call, and he shows up at her house that night. And Allen-Bogen was killed the same way, with the same MO, using the Brigham knife and tourniquet.”

Christine didn’t bother to tell him that it was a metacarpal saw. “Do they have trace evidence in Maryland, like they have in Chester County?”

“Don’t know yet. They’re waiting on the results to see if it’s a match.”

“How about Virginia?”

“Virginia can prove that Jeffcoat was at Newport News Hospital the day Lynn McLeane was murdered, January 12. Found killed with the same MO in her apartment, in bed. They can prove that the hospital is one of Jeffcoat’s accounts, and his boss has already turned over the hotel receipts Jeffcoat turned in. They have the camera in the parking lot that got his license plate. So did the EZ Pass.”

“But can they link Zachary to McLeane? He doesn’t know her.”

“They have him on security footage talking to her in the cafeteria line, the morning of the day she was murdered. They said he was very chatty.”

“Do they have audio?”

Griff sighed heavily. “Of course not. What do you expect? A body mike?”

Christine’s heart sank. “But once again, we don’t know if he actually knew McLeane. He’ll admit that he talks to nurses in the cafeterias. He hits on nurses at his accounts. We don’t know if he remembers McLeane’s name or actually knew her, much less went back to her apartment and murdered her.”

“Uh-huh,” Griff said again.

“What about the hard evidence, or trace evidence, or whatever it’s called?”

“The tests take longer, and they’re waiting for the results.”

Christine tried to put it all together. There were too many facts to analyze on the fly, and her gut was churning. She had believed Zachary when he said he didn’t know Allen-Bogen or McLeane. So either he lied or made a simple mistake. “So what does this mean for Zachary?”

“Bottom line, Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania feel very good about their cases against Jeffcoat. They ‘like him,’ which is police-talk for they believe he’s the Nurse Murderer. The fact that he was in all three hospitals on the day the three nurses were murdered, and were seen with him, is strong circumstantial evidence. It won’t get to our jury, but it’s enough to get the FBI and the other two jurisdictions champing at the bit.”

Christine’s mind reeled. Even if Zachary hadn’t lied, he was in worse trouble than ever. “What did the FBI have to say? Did they meet with you?”

“No. The FBI doesn’t meet with defense counsel.”

“Then how do you know what they said?”

“The detectives from Maryland and Virginia told me, trying to make me shake in my boots.” Griff chuckled. “The Feds are on board, lending them a profiler out of the Philly office.”

“What did the profiler say, did they tell you?”

“The profile they developed is that the killer likes and respects women. He gets along great with them. The praying hands is a reference to nurses as angels on earth. They think he’s a ladies’ man.”

Christine listened, disturbed. The description fit Zachary to a T. “But if he likes nurses so much, why does he kill them?”

“Because they’re not appreciated on earth. They’re too good for this mundane world. That’s why he does no sexual violence, unusual for a serial murderer. He delivers them to heaven. That’s what the profiler thinks.”

Christine couldn’t begin to wrap her mind around the twisted logic. She didn’t know if it sounded like Zachary. “What do you think?”

“I think I missed lunch. I’m hungry. I’m hanging up.”

“Okay, good-bye,” Christine said, but Griff had already hung up.

Christine hung up, her thoughts racing. Could it be a coincidence that Zachary was in the same three places at the wrong time? How unlucky was he? Was he being framed? It horrified her to think that he really was a serial killer, but she knew she had to allow it as a possibility.

She tried to focus on the road. Traffic was speeding. She still couldn’t bring herself to believe that Zachary was guilty. She didn’t want to believe that the father of her baby could be so evil, so depraved. She squeezed the steering wheel to hold fast to something palpable, to tether herself to reality.

She headed west, driving into the hot white sun.