Upside Down (17 page)

37

Faith Ann had felt secure in her hidden concrete annex. While she was in there she could almost convince herself that she was still in touch with her old life. She decided to remain there until the visitors upstairs left, and she would have done just that had an inner voice not ordered her to flee. Her mother had always told her to listen to her feelings.

So she grabbed her backpack and climbed out of the bunker. She crawled to the rear of the house and pushed out the panel. She remained crouched as she scurried to the back fence. She had to take off her backpack to get under, pulling it after her.

Four neighborhood boys were playing basketball on the city-owned courts. Two of them glanced at her—but a skinny kid squirming under a hurricane fence was a whole lot less interesting than a Saturday-morning game. She put on her Audubon Zoo cap and lingered there near a group of loitering teenagers so she could watch her house.

She saw the killer and the shorter woman from the day before as they came out of her back door. Both glanced at the basketball players; Faith Ann dropped her head hastily so the bill of the cap hid her eyes. Seconds later, she looked up and watched the pair turn the corner of her house. She watched in horror as the woman slipped under and the killer began to walk slowly up the side of her house. She knew the woman would find her hideout, and she knew that she was alive only because she had fled when hiding had seemed safer.

She turned on her heel and strode off down the street toward the tennis club. When she got to the thick privets where she'd hidden her bicycle and helmet, all she found of them was the combination lock, its hasp cut cleanly in half.

Now she was on foot.

38

Winter never judged people by their appearance, and Nicky Green had told him that Detective Manseur, despite his appearance, knew his business.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Winter said, shaking the policeman's clammy hand when he arrived at the hotel.

“I'm sorry about your friends,” Manseur said sympathetically.

“Come and let's us have a sit-down,” Nicky said. “Coffee? Water?”

“No thank you,” Manseur said as he sat on the front edge of the chair across from Winter like he thought he might have to spring up and run. “I'm a little pressed for time. First off, let me say that I hope whatever I tell you remains between us. I'm sticking my neck way out already, and I like my occupation, which supports my family.”

Winter nodded, accepting the detective's terms. “Nicky mentioned that you were taken off the Kimberly Porter case.”

“Yes. In fact I caught the Trammel case later from the man who relieved me of the Porter/Lee homicides. Captain Harvey Suggs.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because I didn't interpret the evidence so that it pointed to the captain's conclusion.”

“Which was?”

“That Faith Ann Porter murdered her mother and Amber Lee. Believe me, it didn't seem to point that way at the time, but it seems to be fitting nicely now. A bit
too
nicely.”

Winter listened as Manseur went over the evidence that pointed toward Faith Ann's guilt. Manseur told the two men what he knew about Amber's connection to Jerry Bennett and what Bennett's value to the city administration and the police department was.

“This Bennett a crook?” Nicky asked.

“He is a slippery but tough businessman for sure, and a little eccentric—a virtue in New Orleans. I understand that he worked hard for everything he has. He built the Buddy's Fried Chicken franchise from scratch, sold it for a bundle, and he still gets a million dollars a year as a consultant for like twenty years, and he furnishes them the special sauces through another company.”

“But do you think he might be involved in the killings?” Winter asked.

“All I know is that Bennett accused Amber of embezzlement and swore out a warrant after she'd been his
special
friend for years.”

“But why would Kimberly Porter handle a case of embezzlement?” Nicky asked.

Winter said, “I thought her practice these days was strictly appeals for death penalty cases. That was her area of expertise.”

“As far as I could tell from her papers, Porter was focusing strictly on capital cases. Her assistant told me that there was a woman who'd called the office and claimed to have proof that one of the men on death row was innocent. If Kimberly knew which inmate, she didn't tell her assistant. It is possible that Amber Lee had that information and that might be why they were both killed. Amber might have had information on any of the eleven guys on death row Porter represented.”

“What did Suggs say when you told him that Kimberly was Millie Trammel's sister?”

Manseur exhaled loudly. “I didn't tell him. I couldn't risk him handing the case to the detectives he already gave the Porter one to. I'm pretty sure he wants to control the Porter case, and if he believes they're connected he sure as hell won't want me running this one into that one.”

“You think whoever killed Kimberly ran the Trammels over?”

“Don't you?” Manseur asked bluntly.

“Of course I do. But what I think isn't proof. Faith Ann telephoned my son the afternoon Kimberly was shot. She was trying to find Hank and Millie. Sean told her that they were staying at a guesthouse near Audubon Park, but not which one.”

“She found it,” Manseur said grimly. “And the clerk there told her where they went to eat. I believe she saw the hit-and-run, because people saw her there. A doctor on the scene said she had on a yellow poncho and she seemed upset.” He looked at Nicky. “Did you see Faith Ann there?”

“I saw a kid in a yellow slicker,” Nicky admitted. “It could have been her. Might be I just think it is, now that I've seen a picture of her.”

“I am sure it was her,” Manseur said. “I put in my notes only that there was a child in a slicker who went to both the guesthouse and the scene of the hit-and-run, and perhaps she might be related to the Trammels. The doctor on the scene thought the child was male. The clerk swore it was a girl, but he didn't get her name.”

“Where's your investigation now?” Winter asked.

“A fisherman found the Rover, which was stolen from a long-term lot at the airport. There was a body in it that someone tried their best to burn. Fortunately they pushed it into a shallow bayou. I'm hoping they miscalculated how long or how hot the fire needed to be to completely destroy identifiable features. I'm betting it's either a hired killer, who was killed to make sure his employer never got identified, or the killer did in his accomplice for the same reason, or maybe so he wouldn't have to split the fee. I'm hoping the medical examiner can help me figure out whose body it is.”

“You thinking Bennett might have hired it done?” Winter asked quietly.

Manseur shrugged. “I have no reason to talk to Jerry Bennett on the Trammel case. But there's no reason you can't ask questions about either case. Bennett's office is at the River Club, and he's there most of the time. Lives in an apartment on the second floor, and also out on the lakefront in a luxury boathouse.”

Winter said, “If I talked to this Bennett, he might tell someone on the force about it, and Suggs could have the connection between the two cases. Of course, if Suggs did make the connection through Bennett . . .”

“Which I think is about the only way he could at this point,” Manseur said, smiling. “I can tell Captain Suggs it's all news to me,” he said. “And he can't prove any differently unless you tell him. If he takes me off the Trammel case, I'll know for sure he's dirty and that Bennett is calling the shots.”

“In which case?” Winter said.

“You could interest the media in both cases. Hand them the right questions to ask. I seriously doubt Bennett owns the media.”

“They sure love to get into the mud,” Nicky said.

Winter smiled. “I like the way you think, Detective. Nicky and I will try to find Faith Ann first. You know why she might be hiding from you?”

Manseur shrugged. “If she has a reason, it might be due to something she saw or heard in the office. She was definitely there around the time her mother was killed. I think she saw it. Suggs thinks she did it. The murder weapon was found in a hamper with her clothes along with the four spent cases. I don't know how the weapon got there, but I'm willing to entertain the idea that it was planted there by the real killer. I had a patrol unit at the Porter house as soon as I could get one there. Faith Ann was already gone. As far as I know the patrolmen were there until the detectives took over the scene. The detectives found the weapon.”

“You think the detectives could have planted the gun?” Winter asked.

“I suppose it's possible the killer beat us there and did it. Or maybe he dropped it at the crime scene, and the girl picked it up. It doesn't mean she used it. Who knows what a twelve-year-old thinks.”

Manseur reached into his pocket and removed a clear plastic evidence bag. “One more thing that might be significant,” he said. “I found this in Hank Trammel's hatband. The hat was under a truck.”

“What is it?” Winter said as he reached for the bag.

“It's some sort of a spy bug,” Nicky said.

“Looks like it.” Winter nodded. “Why would this be in Hank's hatband?”

“I've seen some small ones,” Nicky said, “but that critter there sets a new record for compactness. I doubt it has much range.”

“I'm going to have it looked at by a friend who's in the electronics business and see what it's capable of doing. Sometimes he lets me borrow sophisticated devices that the NOPD can't afford.”

Manseur pocketed the plastic bag, stood abruptly, and started for the door.

“I appreciate the information,” Winter said. “More than I can tell you.”

“Based on your reputation as a man who isn't afraid of facing Goliaths, I believe that confiding in you is the right choice—perhaps Faith Ann Porter's only chance of getting cleared. Be careful, Massey. Whoever we're dealing with here won't hesitate to give me more work.”

39

When Captain Harvey Suggs's private line rang, he was clipping his fingernails. He let it ring three times because that was how long it took him to complete the work on his right hand. He lifted the receiver and grunted into it. “Uh-huh.”

“It's J.B.,” the familiar voice said.

Suggs straightened and swept the nail crescents from his lap. He checked the space outside his office door to make sure nobody was within hearing range. “What can I do for you?”

“You can do what you are supposed to do, Harvey.”

“I'm handling that,” Suggs said, trying not to sound irritated, which he was.

“My employees asked me about a cell phone.”

“A cell phone?”

“One registered to the Porter woman. You see, if the phone wasn't at the office, it might still be in
family
hands.”

Suggs furrowed his brow, thinking. “We're already running all the phone records. I'll get on the cell trace.”

“Would you?” Jerry Bennett's voice had taken on a decidedly hard edge. “She had one. Everybody has one. For Christ's sake, Suggs, what are you doing on this, twiddling your fat thumbs?”

“Just a minute,” Suggs said. He picked up another phone and dialed Tinnerino's cell phone.

“Yeah,” Tinnerino answered.

“Porter's cell phone. You find one?”

“No,” the detective said.

“Did she have one?”

“Matter of fact . . . I don't know.” There was a short pause while he asked. “Chief, Doyle says there were bills for one.”

“Have you gotten a list of the calls to and from all of her phones?”

“We're on that now,” Tinnerino said, obviously lying.

“You'd better be. I want that cell phone number ASAP.”

Suggs disconnected the line and picked up the one where Jerry Bennett was waiting. “Porter has a cell phone, and it isn't accounted for.”

“Well,” Bennett said, “if I were you, I'd put a trace on that phone and I'd figure out how to pinpoint its location. You can do that, can't you?”

“Track it? Yes, of course we can do that.”

“
She
might be using it. Harvey, don't expect me to do your job for you. Let me know as soon as you get a fix on that phone. And my people will handle the pickup.”

“Of course I'll do what I can—”

“You understand how important it is for your people to keep my people in the loop?”

“She'll use the thing and we'll get a fix on her location.”

“I know that, Harvey!” Bennett snapped. “I watch television. If I were you, I absolutely would not disappoint me.”