Scent of Murder (29 page)

The sergeant shook her head and said, “The real reason I'm out here is that I'm writing a letter of commendation for the two probation officers who helped us. I need their names and their supervisor, if you have it.”

Fusco looked up the younger probation officer's name and gave it to the sergeant. Then he said, “The older, tubby one is Bill Slaton. I want to see his reaction to a letter from us. He's not a particular fan of the agency.”

Claire laughed at the depiction of the surly probation officer.

The sergeant said, “He's the one that got hurt, right?”

Fusco nodded his head.

“How's he doing?”

“He said his back and side were sore. He's going to be out at least a more few days. Maybe after he reads the letter of commendation and sees what we had to do to make the arrest, he'll appreciate the police a little more.”

*   *   *

Hallett walked into the detective bureau with Rocky close at his side. He saw Claire and Sergeant Greene at John Fusco's desk. He had subtly taught Rocky to give a brief snarl at the sight of John Fusco every time he walked up. He never failed to enjoy the look of fear on the detective's face when the dog walked past, turned his head, showed a few of his teeth, and growled. To Fusco's credit, he had never said a word about it.

Hallett said, “I just had an interesting encounter with Arnold Ludner's sons.”

The sergeant said, “Where?”

“At the sub shop a few blocks away. They surprised me and wanted to tell me their father was innocent.”

Fusco blurted out, “Oh, please.”

The sergeant got more to the point. “Did they threaten you in any way? Is there enough to charge them with a crime?”

Hallett waved off the inquiry and said, “They were very respectful and made no threatening actions or comments. They just wanted to tell me that someone had questioned them about the earlier kidnappings and they could account for their father's whereabouts each time. I guess homicide didn't believe convicted drug dealers.”

Fusco said, “That's about the only thing we agree on.”

“The sons said their father was on a drug called Androcur that acts as a chemical castration. They said it was part of their father's program to stay out of trouble.”

Fusco said, “I guess that explains why there was no semen at any of the scenes and he only performed oral sex on the girls. If you can't get a stiffy, you've got to find other ways to have fun.” Fusco looked at Hallett and said, “You're not getting sucked in by this bullshit, are you?”

Hallett held up his hands and said, “I'm not arguing, just informing.”

Fusco said, “What if you go back to dog walking and I'll handle the investigation? All we really needed was the cadaver dog anyway. I'm tired of babysitting you guys.”

Hallett touched Rocky's rear leg with his knee so the dog would snarl at Fusco again. It made him feel a tiny bit better.

*   *   *

Claire jumped at the chance to be involved in another interview of a young girl. This was just the way to start off Tuesday morning.

Remembering how Smarty had served as a focus for Katie Ziegler after she was rescued in the cane field, Claire brought the dog into the detective bureau with her. She didn't want to rush things along but really wanted to meet the gang out at the training facility as soon as possible. She also was responding to the tone of John Fusco's voice. He had never before used the phrase “I need your help.”

Fusco met her as soon as she entered the detective bureau and said, “This girl wants to talk, but I thought you might connect with her better than me. Young girls confuse me.”

Claire said, “You sure you're not just confused about young girls? It would explain a lot about your extravagant fashion sense.”

Fusco rubbed the sleeve of his expensive suit coat and took it as a compliment, saying, “This
is
extravagant, isn't it.”

Claire sighed and said, “Where's the girl now?”

Fusco led her through the squad bay to the rear interview room. As he was about to open the door he said, “She claims she was attacked Thursday night but was afraid to come forward. She and her mother are waiting inside.”

Claire said, “What's her name?”

“Michelle Swirsky.”

*   *   *

Darren Mori sat at the end of the long conference table between Tim Hallett and Claire Perkins. They all appreciated Sergeant Greene including them in a meeting specifically about an investigation. The meeting really had nothing to do with their dogs' special abilities. He would've chuckled at John Fusco's hysterics if it hadn't been such a serious subject.

The sergeant had already given an overview of the interview of a young woman named Michelle Swirsky who had been attacked Thursday night. Darren had never been involved in investigations, but even he could tell that every detail matched the previous attacks. The subject was a chubby, middle-aged man. The location was not far from where Tina Tictin had been snatched. His approach had been a surprise, and the victim fit precisely into the age range the kidnapper had been targeting.

The twist on this encounter was that Michelle was a brown belt in tae kwon do and immediately fought back with everything she'd been taught. Her sensei's name was Rick Morris and he was a retired Coral Springs cop who now worked for the School Board Police. The advantage of having a police officer teach self-defense was that he taught her to fight dirty. She used her elbows and knees the way he had shown her, and when her assailant fell backward into his car, she slammed the door on his legs. This was some special kind of girl.

The sergeant said, “Michelle was with a boy the night it happened and was too afraid to tell her mother anything. It was the news stories about recovering Tina Tictin's body that made her think she might be able to help the investigation.” She looked at John Fusco and said, “What's your take on the girl?”

Fusco said, “She's straight up. I know we sometimes take teenagers' accounts of events with a grain of salt, but this girl didn't seem like she was making anything up at all. Her mother sat in on the investigation with us, and I could tell they were both very serious about what happened.”

No one stated the obvious. Finally, Hallett said, “So you think this is the same guy as the other attacks?”

Fusco hesitated, and the sergeant didn't answer at all.

Hallett was more forceful this time. “Come on. Even a copycat wouldn't get things this close.”

It took a moment for Darren to catch on to the hesitation. Then Hallett spoke his thoughts aloud. “If she was attacked Thursday night, the attacker couldn't have been Arnold Ludner. We had him covered on surveillance. He has the greatest alibi of all time.
The police were watching me every minute of the evening.
”

Now Fusco mumbled, “Bullshit. You been listening to his kids too much.”

Darren heard the anger and frustration in Fusco's voice and thought back to what Ruben had been telling them. He was trying to read the other subtle clues from the detective, and they told him Fusco wasn't convinced completely either.

Hallett gripped the end of the table and said, “What good does it do us to arrest the wrong man? That means there's still a killer out there even if this one gets convicted. Does Ludner have any of the injuries this girl inflicted on her attacker?”

Sergeant Greene stood and did the equivalent of stepping between two brawlers. She said, “Hang on, now. Let's see what homicide comes up with. There's a lot of evidence to go through.”

That set Fusco off. “Who cares what they find? Homicide is trying to trash
my
case. This doesn't change shit. Either the girl has her times confused or you guys screwed up the surveillance and let him slip past you.”

Darren saw Hallett was angry, but instead of saying something insulting he just said, “Could be.”

That brought Fusco to his feet screaming, “Could be? It
has
to be.” He looked over to Sergeant Greene and said, “Why don't we send this guy back to the dog patrol?”

Darren had learned a whole lot about the politics of investigation in just this one meeting.

*   *   *

Junior had seen the news and understood that now was the time to lie low. He could just creep back into the woodwork where no one would notice him. Not that anyone did anyway. If he could control himself and keep from acting, he'd never have to worry about jail time. After all that he had seen, jail was not an option.

The only problem with his plan to lie low and sit quietly at home was Michelle Swirsky. The very thought of her made him ache. The idea that she thought she was better than him kept him awake at night. The idea that she had taught him something was insulting and absurd.

He didn't know if he could ever rest again until he set things straight.

 

34

Tension bothered Claire. It had since she was a little girl. It reminded her of the arguments her mother and father would have about everything from money to her father's reliance on all types of drugs. Back then, her bunny, Beulah, calmed her down. She'd stroke the white bunny's fur as if it had a sedative in its pelt.

Now she found herself doing the same thing with Smarty in the detective bureau. It might have looked like she was trying to calm down the German Shepherd as they sat in the corner together, but they both knew the truth. Not that Smarty minded. At home he acted more like a puppy, following her from room to room and lying across her lap, craving any attention he could get. But he seemed to understand the rules at work and wasn't used to affection like this in the middle of the day.

Things were tense in the detective bureau since Hallett had brought up the idea that they had arrested the wrong man. She knew it had to be hard for Tim to express his theory when all he wanted in the world was to keep that creep off the streets. She couldn't have admired him more for his position. So far it seemed like she was the only one who felt that way.

Claire Perkins noticed John Fusco sulking at his desk. She had to ask, “What's wrong?” She could tell he didn't want to admit that Arnold Ludner wasn't good for the kidnappings and homicide. He already had the asshole in custody. But none of the girls, including Michelle Swirsky, could pick him out of a photo lineup. He was already in the CODIS DNA database from his previous arrest and didn't match anything found in this case, not from Tina Tictin's body or the rag found near Katie Ziegler.

The only tangible evidence anyone had from the Michelle Swirsky case was a still photo taken from a video surveillance camera on the edge of the building where she was attacked. It showed the partial hood of a sedan. She identified it as the car her attacker was driving. Only a few feet of the hood were visible, and you couldn't see the emblem or manufacturer. Fusco had taken the photo down to the auto theft task force, and they said it looked like an American sedan but couldn't be any more specific.

Claire sat down next to him, not sure what she could say or do to make him feel better. She knew he was simmering about losing all the work he'd put into the case. Just then one of the homicide detectives strolled into the crimes/persons unit and gave Fusco a friendly smile.

The younger detective said, “We got a problem, hombre.”

“What's that?”

“Your man Tim Hallett is running his mouth about how we got the wrong guy in jail.”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

“We need to find a way to shut the guy up. I don't know about you, but there's no way I want to try to make a case on someone else when we got the killer in jail already.”

Claire said, “What if you have the wrong man?”

The detective looked at her as if she were an annoying child. Finally, he said, “That's a question the jury will have to answer. We don't make cases twice.”

Claire could see why Hallett preferred K-9 over the detective bureau.

*   *   *

It was still early, and Tim Hallett lay in his bed, hoping to fall asleep. He knew this feeling too well. This anxiety that things weren't going right. Now he found himself in the odd position of having Arnold Ludner as a bookend to his anxiety. First because Hallett wanted to put him in jail so badly, and now because he was convinced Ludner had nothing to do with the attacks on the girls.

He had gone over the situation and his feelings about it with Rocky. It helped to talk to someone and express his innermost thoughts out loud. Rocky never told anyone secrets, never interrupted, and never judged him. That's why he was currently breaking one of his rules and allowing the dog to sprawl on his bed as he played with the thick hair around Rocky's neck.

Hallett felt like a jerk. He had allowed his personal feelings to push the investigation, and now he was convinced he had pushed it in the wrong direction. He had the air conditioner on high, mainly to give him some white noise and drown the rest of the world out. He had turned off his phone not long after chatting with Josh and catching up on his son's day.

But now, lying with Rocky in bed and staring at the water stains on the ceiling, all Hallett could do was consider the Ludner case from every possible angle. His time in the detective bureau had not gone to waste, and he had always possessed good common sense. One of the first things he learned as a new deputy out of the academy was that you can't teach common sense. No matter how big and strong recruits might be, if they had no common sense, they would fail. It frustrated Hallett when he heard his older friends say their kids were adrift and maybe should become cops. Police work was not for everyone, and sometimes people didn't learn until after they had invested a lot of sweat and tears.

Hallett's common sense told him the variables in the case just didn't line up. It was like matching the right username and password on a computer. Almost like a logic puzzle. Ludner could still be the right suspect
if
the guy who attacked Michelle Swirsky was someone else. Michelle's attacker
had
to be someone else
if
Ludner was still at the compound. If all the facts Michelle had told Claire were true and Ludner was at home at the time, he couldn't be a suspect and there was still a killer running loose.