The Strategist (11 page)

“I’m not a private investigator, Nicole. I’d need a license for that.”

“Screw a license. This is Julia we’re talking about!”

The raw anger in Nicole’s voice shocked Camille and rendered her speechless.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said with immediate contrition. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

Under normal circumstances, Camille’s temper would have gotten the better of her and Nicole would have found herself cowering on the asphalt. But these were not normal circumst
ances. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just that I know you of all people understand my level of frustration.”

“I do.”

“Then you know why I’m asking for your help.”

Camille’s head was starting to feel light. “As difficult as it is, we have to let the police do their job. I wish I could do more, Nicole, but I can’t.” She braced herself for another desperate plea, but was instead met with a look of solemn resignation.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nicole said as she gently put her hand on Camille’s shoulder. “I really am.”

Camille opened her mouth to speak, but Nicole’s embrace stopped her. As they stood in close silence, she wanted nothing more than to tell Nicole that she was right in her doubts about the police and their investigation. She wanted to tell her that she could do a better job than any of them, and that she owed it to Julia to take up the cause – badge or no badge. She wanted to tell Nicole that her sister’s death would not be added to the long list of cold-case crimes that people would still be speculating about in ten years. She wanted to tell Nicole that she could be the courageous crusader who was willing to give up her own life if it meant finding out who took Julia’s.

But she knew that none of it was true.

“I’ll see you at the cemetery,” Nicole finally said. Then she turned and walked away.

Camille’s eyes followed her until she met her husband and sons at the family car and they all piled inside. 

“I’ll see you there,” she said to no one at all.

CHAPTER 18

S
ullivan was sitting at her desk looking over an evidence summary that continued to baffle her, when an irate Graham walked into the office.

“I understand what you’re saying, okay? And for the fifth time, I’m telling you I’ll take care of it,” he barked into his cell phone. He rolled his eyes as he listened to a lengthy response. “Yes I know how to get in touch with him. I’ll call you back when I do.” With that, Graham hung up the phone and stuffed it inside his jacket pocket.

Sullivan couldn’t help but stare at his display. Graham made an entrance better than anyone else she had ever known, though there was nothing admirable about the way he did it.

“What was that all about?” she inquired.

Graham sat at his desk without looking at her. “Just keeping my ears to the ground. I have a couple of CI’s who live in Clemmons’ neighborhood and I’ve been trying to get them on the horn for hours. I swear, the homies are never around when you need them.”

It was the third time this week that he had made Sullivan visibly cringe. So
far that was a record. “Any developments on Clemmons?” 

Graham looked up from his computer with an irritated glare. “Not yet. You didn’t think we were going to arrest him this afternoon, did you?”

Sullivan shrugged her shoulders. “We basically told the lieutenant that he was the guy, so yeah, I’m expecting something to come down the pike real soon.”

Graham hissed in between his teeth and turned back to his computer. “I do forget sometimes that you’re a rookie.”

Sullivan immediately thought
what the hell does that mean
? She opened her mouth to give voice to the thought, then changed her mind. Instead she picked up the revised evidence summary that had just been put on her desk.

“You were out, so I’m assuming you haven’t read this,” she said as she held up the report.

Graham looked up from his computer. He could hardly hide his disinterest. “You’re right, I haven’t.”

“Forensics did a second sweep of the crime scene this afternoon. It came up as clean as the first round. No prints aside from Julia’s. They also confirmed that each dog was shot twice at relatively close range, and definitely with the same gun.”

“We already knew that,” Graham sighed.

Sullivan continued like she didn’t hear him. “They also checked the dog’s teeth, on the chance that one of them may have gotten close enough to the perp to take a bite. There was no evidence to indicate that they had.”

“Fantastic. Anything else?”

“The house was equipped with a security system, but it had apparently malfunctioned.”

Graham looked up from his computer. “Why do you say that?”

“When the guys from the lab initially looked at it, they assumed that Julia hadn’t set it that evening. But when they called the security company to confirm, their log showed that she had actually armed the system at 10:56 p.m., and that it went offline at approximately 1:17 a.m. The company reported no technical issues on their end. From what they saw they could only conclude that she disarmed it herself.”

Graham said nothing as he continued to stare straight ahead.

“That would totally line up with the theory that Julia knew her assailant and disarmed it to let him in,” Sullivan continued. “The only problem with that theory is the forced entry.”

“No one ever said she let him in, Chloe,” Graham sniffed.

“Still, isn’t it strange that the security system magically goes offline what was probably moments before the break-in? I sure hope our perp went out and bought a lotto ticket after he was finished, because he was quite possibly the luckiest bastard in the world that night.”

“Or maybe Leeds disarmed the system herself,” Graham countered like he actually believed it.

“Walt, who disarms their alarm system at 1:17 in the
morning, then goes back to bed?”

Graham let out a hard sigh and pushed his chair away from his desk. “How the hell would I know? We can sit and speculate about it all day, but we’re not home security technicians, we’re homicide detectives. Now, do you want to inspect faulty burglar alarms or do you want to solve a murder?”

Sullivan was silent for a long moment. Then she put the evidence summary down on her desk. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Graham stood up from his desk and walked over to hers. “Then maybe you’d like to join me in the conference room. Dale Rooney will be here any moment.”

This would be their first opportunity to speak at length with the lone witness who reported seeing the car that matched Clemmons’ on the night of Julia’s murder. He was the only glue that held the Clemmons theory in place, and Sullivan was curious to see how well his recollection would hold up under her questioning. She only hoped she would get the chance to probe as deeply as she wanted to. Graham had a way of taking control of situations, and Sullivan had neither the clout nor the will to wrestle that control away from him.

She walked some distance behind him as they made their way to the conference room. “By the way, Julia Leeds’ funeral was today.”

“I know,” Graham answered without looking back. “I’m actually surprised you didn’t go.”

Sullivan was perplexed by the comment. “Why would you say that?”

“I figured the lieutenant would want you there as representative of the department that the family would be comfortable with.”

Suddenly she wasn’t so perplexed. “You mean because I’m a woman.”

“I mean because of your empathetic nature.” Graham stopped mid-stride and turned to her. “You know, if you have any designs on making it beyond the rookie stage in this unit, you’d better get over this ‘I’m a woman’ trip ASAP. Nobody’s looking to hold you back around here, but you damn well better believe that nobody’s gonna hold your hand either. If you want to keep making distinctions between yourself and everybody else because of some hang up you have then that’s your prerogative. Just don’t be surprised when we finally start agreeing with you.”

The speech sounded canned, and Sullivan couldn’t help but wonder if he had kept it on reserve until the right opportunity presented itself. She couldn’t get beyond the word we, and knew his saying it was no accident. But it ultimately didn’t matter if the speech was rehearsed or spontaneous. It was obvious that Graham was the one with the hang up.

“Walter, do us both a favor and keep the focus on Rooney.”

Graham smirked as he continued his walk to the conference room. “You got it boss.” 

When they arrived, a young officer was standing outside the door with a middle-aged couple. After mouthing something to the pair, the officer walked over to Sullivan and Graham.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rooney just arrived,” he said to Graham.

“Perfect timing,” Graham answered, looking back at Sullivan. “Shall we get this proverbial show on the road?”

Sullivan nodded. “Thank you, Officer Davies.”

“You’re welcome detective. Just come grab me when you’re done. I’ll be happy to escort them out.”

Sullivan patted the officer on the back as he walked away.

“Is it me or does he look scared shitless?” Graham whispered as they approached Dale Rooney.

“That man has got the fate of an entire murder investigation resting in his hands. Wouldn’t you be scared shitless?”

Sullivan suddenly felt a knot in her stomach and had only one thought to explain it: Graham may have been on to something with that whole empathetic nature thing.

CHAPTER 19

D
ale Rooney sat with his wife Maggie at one end of the conference table while Detectives Graham and Sullivan sat at the other. Sullivan had offered coffee to the group, but only Dale accepted. His hands shook as he took the Styrofoam cup.

“Thank you again for coming in, Mr. and Mrs. Rooney,” Graham began. “We shouldn’t take up a whole lot of your time here. We just want to ask a few questions and show you a couple of photographs.”

What photographs
? Sullivan thought. They hadn’t discussed showing any prior to the meeting.

“Okay,” Dale replied as he took a gulp from his cup. “Just so you know, it was pretty dark out that night.”

Dale’s wife put her hand on his knee. “They know. Just tell them what you can.”

“That’s right, Mr. Rooney. Even the smallest details help,” Sullivan added.

Dale stiffened in his chair. He was a short, round man with hooded brown eyes and a thick, well-kept beard. His horn-rimmed glasses and tweed jacket looked like something an Oxford economics professor would wear. But the prestigious air created by his attire was completely betrayed by his nervous demeanor.

“Where should I begin?” Dale asked.

“At the beginning,” Sullivan answered.

D
ale downed his remaining coffee like it was a shot of whiskey. He cast a glance at his wife, a slender redhead who, like Dale, seemed overdressed for the occasion. Then he turned to Graham.

“Well, I’d fallen asleep on the couch that night. I’m not sure what time it was when I drifted off, but when I woke up it was around 12:30. At first I thought the music was coming from the television. But when I hit the mute button and the music was still there, I had a pretty good idea of what I was dealing with.”

“Which was?” Sullivan asked.

“Some obnoxious jerk outside playing his car stereo too loud.”

“And is that a common occurrence in the neighborhood?” Graham asked.

“Too common for my taste,” Dale sniffed.

“What happened next?” Sullivan asked.

“Given the kind of music it was – rap, h
ip-hop, whatever you call it – my senses were on high alert, so I initially thought about calling the police.”

“Completely understandable,” Graham offered with an affected nod.

Sullivan rolled her eyes, hoping that no one noticed. “Please continue.”

“I knew I at least needed to have some idea of what was out there before I called, so I went to the window. That was when I got my first look at the car.”

“The gray Impala,” Graham said.

“Correct.”

“But Mr. Rooney, according to your statement, you couldn’t be positive what color the Impala was,” Sullivan countered, reading from Dale’s written statement. “The only thing you knew for sure was that it was, quote, light.”

Dale shifted in his chair. “As I recall it now, the car was definitely gray.”

“And you’re one hundred percent certain of that?”

“Yes,” Dale answered without hesitation.

Sullivan tapped her pen against the table. “And according to your statement, you didn’t get a good look at the license plate.”

“Unfortunately not. The car was some distance away, and as I said, it was pretty dark. I went to retrieve a pair of binoculars in hopes that I could see it better. But before I could get to them the car was gone.”

“How dark was it outside?” Sullivan asked.

“The street light was out in front of the house where the car was parked.”

“That would be Julia Leeds’ house,” Graham said

Dale cast his eyes downward. “I believe so.”

Sullivan wanted to continue her line of questioning regarding the color of the car and Dale’s insistence that it was gray, despite his limited visibility and conflicting witness statement. But Graham’s next move took the wind completely out of her sails.

“Mr. Rooney, I’m going to show you a few photographs. Just tell me if anything here looks familiar.”

Dale shifted in his chair again, this time with visible nervousness. “Okay.”

Graham opened up a manila folder and spread the contents out in front of him. There were four eight-by-ten photographs, all of them turned down. He flipped the first photo and slid it across the table.

Dale took the photo and held it up to his face as if he were analyzing an x-ray slide. “It looks a lot like the car I saw that night.”

Graham flipped over the next two photos. They too were of a Chevy Impala. The first photo was taken from the left front at a ninety-degree angle and the second was taken from the rear. From the time stamp on the bottom of the photos, Sullivan knew they had come from the evidence lab, and were most likely shot by a CSI tech in front of Clemmons’ house. She felt uneasy.

“This definitely looks like the car,” Dale asserted as he looked at the other two photos. “As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember the red section on the right rear where it looked like part of the bumper was replaced. Absolutely sure of it.”

Graham looked at Sullivan with a look of satisfaction that felt completely inapprop
riate.

“Okay Mr. Rooney. I have one more photograph to show you. This one I want you to take your time with.” Graham paused before turning the photo, building the suspense in the room to exaggerated heights. “Have you ever seen this person?”

Sullivan audibly gasped when she saw the photo. By the time Graham slid it across the table she was already out of her chair. “Detective, may I have a moment with you?”

Graham’s eyes were wide with confusion as he looked up at her. “Excuse me?”

“I need to talk to you outside,” Sullivan replied firmly.

Dale Rooney and his wife sat in nervous silence as Graham stood up. “We’ll just be a moment folks,” he said with a nonchalant smile. “As I said Mr. Rooney, take your time with that photo.”

Dale held it close to his face as the detectives walked into the hallway.

“What the hell is that?” Sullivan said before the conference room door closed behind them.  

If Graham was surprised by Sullivan’s outburst, he didn’t show it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The photograph of Stephen Clemmons.”

“Listen–”

“Don’t you think that was something we should have discussed beforehand? The pictures of the car are one thing. But a blow up of Clemmons’ driver’s license photo? That’s so far over the top I don’t even know where to begin.”

“The only thing that’s over the top is you pulling me out here in the middle of a goddamn witness interview,” Graham snapped.

Sullivan shook
her head. “If we tried to present any aspect of this exchange as evidence, Clemmons would have every constitutional lawyer in the country wanting to take up his cause. How could you not think about that?”

“Just calm down, Chloe.”

“How am I supposed to calm down when you’re compromising the entire investigation?”

“Because I’m not compromising the investigation.”

“How do you figure that?”

“It’s really simple. The car that Dale Rooney identified as being in front of Julia’s house belongs to Stephen Clemmons. Is it at least plausible to assume that?”

“It’s plausible, yes.”

“And if we’re operating on the theory that Leeds and Clemmons knew each other, perhaps even had something of a relationship – and right now that’s the prevailing theory – then it stands to reason that he could have visited her house prior to the murder.”

Sullivan was quiet as she let Graham’s line of reasoning sink in.

“Therefore there is at least a possibility that Rooney has seen him before, particularly if he is as in tuned to the neighborhood as we think he is.”

Sullivan wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t. “I suppose so.”

“Fantastic. Now
can we stop dicking around out here? I really don’t want to keep those people waiting all day.” Graham didn’t wait for a response before opening the conference room door and walking inside. 

Sullivan took her seat without saying anything. Her head was swirling with a mix of thoughts that she couldn’t wrangle in. Despite Graham’s logical explanation for showing Clemmons’ photo, something about the tactic felt wrong.

“Sorry about that,” Graham sighed to the couple as he sat down. “Just some procedural mumbo-jumbo. No big deal.”

Dale’s wife looked at
Sullivan as if she wanted confirmation. Sullivan could only force a smile.

“Have you had a chance to look at the photo?” Graham asked.

“Yes,” Dale replied without taking his eyes off of it. Then he looked at Sullivan. “Is this the man you think murdered Julia Leeds?”

Sullivan crossed her arms and looked at Graham to answer.

He didn’t hesitate. “We can’t say that as of yet, but he’s someone we’re interested in. I wanted to show you the photo in the event you may have seen him around your neighborhood at any point prior to Julia’s murder.”

Dale held up the picture in front of his wife. “Maggie?”

She gave the photo a quick glance. “He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

Dale placed the photo on the table and slid it back to Graham. “I mean, he could have been the person in the Impala, but I couldn’t swear to that. And I would certainly remember if I’d seen him in the neighborhood.”

Of course you would
, Sullivan thought. “Did you get a good look inside the car, Mr. Rooney?” she then asked.

“Not a good o
ne. Again–”

“It was dark.”

Dale appeared put off by Sullivan’s interruption. “Correct.”

“So in fairness, how could you even speculate as to who was in the car, or how many of them there were for that matter?”

Dale pulled at his shirt collar. “I’m not trying to speculate. I just figured that by you showing me the photo,” he paused to clear his throat. “I just figured he was someone important in all of this. Look, I didn’t know Julia Leeds all that well, but there isn’t anyone alive who wants to catch this maniac more than I do. I can’t even begin to tell you how it felt to walk up to her house and see…”

Maggie
grabbed his arm and squeezed. “It’s okay.”

“We understand you’ve been through an awful lot, Mr. Rooney. You and your wife,” Graham said. “You’ve been nothing but helpful.”

Dale took off his glasses and wiped both eyes. “We’ll continue to do whatever we can to help, Detective Graham.” The emotion of his eyes was offset by the sudden conviction in his voice. “If I have to keep looking at that photo I will. If I need to look at more photos, I’ll do that too.”

Graham opened his mouth to reply, bu
t was interrupted by Maggie.

“Should we be worried about him? The man in the photo?” she asked. “If he’s capable of doing something like this, who’s to say we’re not in danger because we’re talking to you?”

“You’re not in danger.” Sullivan’s answer was almost dismissive, even though she knew the question was perfectly legitimate.

“I agree,
” Graham interjected. “You shouldn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable. We have multiple detectives involved in the investigation, and we’re monitoring every aspect of it as closely as possible.”

“Including him?” Maggie
asked.

“We’re monitoring every aspect of the investigation,” Graham reiterated.

“So what should my wife and I do in the meantime?” Dale asked.

“Just hang tight for now,” Graham advised. “I may be calling on you again depending on where the process takes us.”

Dale blew out a loud breath. “Understood. For now, is it okay if I look at that photo again? I just need to be sure there isn’t something about him that I missed.”

Sullivan looked at Graham as he took the photo out of the folder and slid it back across the ta
ble. Graham did not look back.

*****

After more time with the photo and an extensive question and answer session regarding the early morning walk that led Dale to Julia Leeds’ front door, the interview was finally over. As the Rooneys left, Graham went to great lengths to reassure them that Julia’s killer would be caught, in large part because of Dale’s invaluable testimony. Sullivan knew that his reassurance was hollow at best, and she added it to the growing list of thoughtless tactical errors he had made.

After Graham finished shaking hands with them he sat back down and watched from his chair as they walked out of the room. Surprised that he had not led the couple out, Sullivan took it upon herself to do so. But before she could leave the room, Graham stopped her.

“Detective Sullivan, can you stay for a moment? Officer Davies can escort Mr. and Mrs. Rooney out.”

“Of course,” Sullivan replied as the couple continued on without her.

“Could you close the door please?”

Sullivan did so and took a seat in the nearest chair.

“I’ve been meaning to have this conversation with you since our briefing in the lieutenant’s office,” Graham said. “But I thought it was something that could wait. Now I know it can’t.”