Secrets to the Grave

30

“Nanette Zahn died of multiple stab wounds,” Vince said. “Her death was ruled—get this—a suicide. Her son, Alexander, who was twelve at the time, was taken and raised by a cousin.”

“Wow,” Trammell said. “Do you think the college will give me my money back?”

“Your kid’s on a scholarship. You didn’t pay any money,” Campbell pointed out.

They had gathered in the war room for their end-of-the-day wrap-up and to regroup and make plans.

“The boy was never charged or convicted of anything,” Vince went on, peering down through his reading glasses at his notes. “There was a documented history of child abuse. The mother was severely manic-depressive. She couldn’t deal with her son’s condition—the investigator used the word ‘autism.’ She blamed the boy, ridiculed him, punished him, tormented him. She reportedly locked him in a closet for days at a time and just left him. He was put into foster care on three separate occasions, but was always returned to his mother once she went back on her medication and her moods evened out.”

“What about the father?” Hamilton asked.

“The father was never in the picture,” Vince said. “The mother was known to self-mutilate when she was depressed, so it isn’t out of the question that she might use a knife to kill herself. But I would have expected her to cut herself, not stab herself. It’s extremely rare for a woman to stab herself. She reportedly had three stab wounds to the abdomen.

“Apparently the boy was covered in blood when officers arrived and had sustained injuries consistent with a beating.”

“Now we know why nothing showed up in a routine background check,” Mendez said. “He doesn’t have a record. But he told us he killed her. Where did you get this information?”

“I found out Zahn grew up in a suburb of Buffalo, New York,” Vince said. “As it happened I worked a child abduction up there ten years ago. The lead detective on that case is their chief now. He was in a uniform at the time of Nanette Zahn’s death. He actually remembered the case on account of the boy.”

“What was his take on it?” Hicks asked.

“If the boy did it, it was self-defense. The kid was in a near-catatonic state when the police arrived, and stayed that way for months afterward. No one ever pressed the issue because they knew the family history, and I think they basically felt like the mother had it coming.”

“Where does that leave us considering Zahn as a suspect?” Dixon asked.

“Milo Bordain said the victim complained to her about Zahn,” Hicks pointed out.

“Everybody else has said she got along with him, didn’t mind him hanging around,” Mendez said. “I think Mrs. Bordain doesn’t like Zahn. He’s not her kind of people.”

“Vince?” Dixon asked.

“We have to keep him on the list, but he would have had to have had some kind of psychotic break to do what was done to the victim,” he said. “He’s not psychotic. He has plenty of issues, but he’s not psychotic.”

“But he may have killed a woman with a knife before,” Dixon said.

“Yes.”

“If Marissa Fordham had made him angry somehow, said the wrong thing and triggered a memory ...”

“It’s possible.”

“Talk to him again. See how he reacts when he finds out you know about his mother.”

Vince nodded and jotted a couple of notes to himself while Mendez briefed the group on their conversation with Gina Kemmer.

“We should sit on her,” he suggested. “She knows more than she’s telling us.”

Dixon nodded. “I agree. Campbell and Trammell take the first watch. I’ll bring a couple of deputies in to take the second. Tony, Vince, bring her in tomorrow and have another conversation with her. Turn up the heat.

“Hamilton, what did you find in Marissa’s phone records?”

“Her last call was to Gina Kemmer on the evening of the murder,” Hamilton said. “Before that, there was a call to the Bordain residence, one to Mark Foster, one to the woman who runs the Acorn Gallery. Nothing really stands out as unusual. These were all people she knew and had friendships with.”

“And the bank records?”

“There was a regular monthly deposit of five thousand dollars from Milo Bordain, her sponsor.”

“That’s sixty grand a year!” Campbell exclaimed. “Shit! I’m taking up finger painting. Bordain will be looking for a new artist to sponsor.”

“There were deposits from the Acorn Gallery. She had a balance of twenty-seven thousand in her savings, three thousand, two hundred fifty-one in checking. The trust account for her daughter has over fifty grand in it.”

“That’s a lot of dough,” Vince said.

“She had very few living expenses,” Dixon said. “The Bordains own the property she lived on. She had a generous allowance.”

“And if she came from money to begin with—” Hicks began.

“So far, there’s nothing from Rhode Island on a Marissa Fordham,” Hamilton said. “And I haven’t found anything in the state of California for Marissa Fordham predating 1981. So far I’d say she didn’t exist in this state before 1981.”

“Milo Bordain thought she might be running from an abusive relationship,” Hicks said. “She might have changed her name.”

Dixon sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Great. I’ll call the pathologist. We need to run her fingerprints.”

“Haley was born in May 1982,” Mendez said. “If Marissa came to California before September ’81 then she wasn’t running from the baby’s father.”

“What’s the latest on the girl, Vince?” Dixon asked.

“She’s being released from the hospital tomorrow. Brain function is normal. There may be some permanent damage to her larynx, but she can talk.”

“What’s she saying?”

“She doesn’t remember being hurt,” Vince said. “But we have to be patient. Her memory could come back over time—or it might never.”

“Can we drug her or hypnotize her or something?” Campbell asked.

“You’ll lose a limb trying to get to her,” Vince said. “My wife will have you for lunch.”

“And pick her teeth with your bones,” Mendez added.

Vince grinned, ridiculously proud. “That’s my girl.”

“We need the info if we can get it,” Dixon said.

“If Haley has information to give, Anne will get it,” Vince said. “But she won’t put the girl at any kind of psychological risk to do it. And that’s the way it should be. So the rest of you bums better get out there and beat the bushes for a killer.”

Dixon checked his watch and frowned. “I’ve got to talk to the press. They want me to comment on Milo Bordain’s reward.”

“What’s your comment going to be, boss?” Campbell asked as Dixon headed for the door.

“No comment.”