The Crucifix Killer

Thirty-Four

Hunter poured himself another cup of coffee from the machine in his office. Garcia had brought in a special blend of Brazilian coffee imported direct from the state of Minas Gerais. It was grounded finer than most well-known blends and roasted at a lower initial temperature preventing it from over-roasting and giving it a stronger but smoother taste. Hunter had been instantly converted.

He had a sip of the dark liquid and joined Garcia, who was facing the photograph-covered corkboard. George Slater’s picture was the last in line.

‘What was he hiding?’ Garcia asked, pinching his lower lip with his thumb and index finger.

‘One thing is for sure, there was no Tuesday-night poker game,’ Hunter commented.

‘Uh-huh, but what was he doing? My initial hunch was that he’d been cheating on his wife, but…’

‘But since she mentioned greyhound racing…’

‘Exactly, and that was no coincidence. The killer knew.’

‘I know. So was he gambling again or did the killer know about his past?’

‘I don’t know, but we really need to find out.’

‘As Lucas had said, dog racing is illegal in California, right?’ Hunter asked.

‘Yes, why?’

‘Can we find out which is the nearest state that allows it?’

‘Yes, easy, give me a minute.’ Garcia walked back to his desk and sat in front of his computer. After a few clicks and some typing he shouted out his search result. ‘Arizona.’

Hunter chewed his lower lip in thought. ‘That’s way too far. If George had been going to a racing track, it had to be within driving distance so he could make it there and back in the same evening. Arizona is totally out of the question.’

‘So if he was gambling again he was doing it over the internet or over the phone.’

‘Which means the killer did not single him out from a dog track.’

‘We have to find out where he was the night he was abducted. We know Jenny was in a nightclub,’ Garcia said, getting up once again.

‘We’ve gotta re-interview that tall, skinny, receding hair guy we talked to at Tale & Josh – what was his name?’

‘Peterson, something Peterson,’ Garcia recalled. ‘Why him?’

‘Because he knows more than he told us.’

‘How do you know?’

Hunter gave Garcia a confident smile. ‘He showed all the signs of being too nervous. Avoided eye contact, sweaty palms, uneasiness with all his answers and he kept on biting his bottom lip whenever we pressed him for a straight answer. Trust me, he knows more than what he told us.’

‘Surprise home call then?’

Hunter nodded with a devious smile. ‘Let’s do it tomorrow, Sunday. People always get caught off guard on Sundays.’

Garcia’s eyes were back on the photographs. Something else had been nagging him. ‘Do you think they knew each other?’

The question came unexpectedly and Hunter took a moment to think about it. ‘Maybe. She was a high-class hooker. If he was cheating on his wife, and that’s still a major possibility, he certainly had enough money to afford her.’

‘That’s exactly what I was thinking.’

‘So we’d better find that out as well, and I know just who to ask.’

‘Who? D-King won’t give us Jenny’s client list and I’m sure you’re not thinking about that mound of muscle bodyguard.’

‘No, we ask one of D-King’s girls.’

Garcia hadn’t thought of that.

‘Anyway, what do we have on our first victim so far – did we manage to get a file on her?’ Hunter asked.

‘Not exactly.’ Garcia walked back to his desk. Hunter had never seen a better-organized desk. Three very neatly arranged piles of paper stood to the left of Garcia’s computer screen. All pencils and pens had been placed into color-coded can-like containers. The phone was precisely aligned with the fax machine and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Nothing looked out of place. Everything about Hunter’s partner suggested organization and efficiency.

‘Farnborough isn’t a very common name, but it’s common enough to make things difficult,’ Garcia carried on. ‘D-King couldn’t tell us for certain where she was from. He mentioned Idaho and Utah, so I used that as the starting point. My initial check has returned thirty-six Farnboroughs in both states. I’m getting in touch with the sheriffs in every town I found a Farnborough, but so far, no luck.’

‘And if D-King was wrong about Idaho or Utah?’ Hunter asked.

‘Well, then we’re in for a very long search. She probably ran away from wherever she came from looking to become the newest Hollywood star.’

‘Don’t they all?’ Hunter said matter-of-factly.

‘That didn’t work out, so she ended up becoming a pro, working for our scumbag friend D-King.’

‘Welcome to the Hollywood dream.’

Garcia nodded.

‘No easy identification via DNA then?’

‘Not until we locate her family.’

‘And we’ll obviously have no joy with dental records.’

‘Not after the job the killer’s done on her.’

They spent a minute in silence. Their eyes back on the photographs. Hunter finished the rest of his coffee before glancing at his watch – 5:15 p.m. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and checked the pockets as always.

‘You’re leaving?’ Garcia asked half surprised.

‘I’m already late for a dinner appointment, and anyway I think we need to try and disconnect from this case even if just for a few hours. You should go home to your wife, have some dinner, take her out, get laid… poor woman.’

Garcia laughed. ‘I will, I just wanna go over a few more things before I leave. Dinner plans huh? Is she nice?’

‘She’s pretty. Very sexy,’ Hunter said with a matter-of-fact shrug.

‘Well, have a good time, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Garcia started flipping through some files. Hunter stopped by the door, turned and watched Garcia. Hunter had seen that same scene before. It was like looking back in time, the only difference was he’d be sitting in Garcia’s seat and Scott would be by the door. He sensed in Garcia the same passion for success, the same hunger for the truth that still burned inside him, the same desire that had almost driven him to the brink of madness but unlike Garcia, he’d learned to control it.

‘Go home, rookie, it’s not worth it, we’ll carry on tomorrow.’

‘Ten minutes, that’s all.’ Garcia gave Hunter a friendly wink before turning his attention back to the computer.