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“Tell us what happened. Start at the beginning,” Dan said to Camila. “Give us everything you know about this Nick Mansfield.”
“He worked in my office briefly. He was an accountant and a former banker. Handled financial matters, mostly.”
“Like campaign contributions?”
“Of course.”
“But you let him go?”
“Yes. He had been brought on as a temp to handle a specific job. When it was finished, I terminated his employment.”
“Couldn’t you find something else for him to do?”
“He had a drug problem. Heroin. He showed up at the office completely strung out. Benji reported it to me.”
“I get the impression she runs a tight ship.”
“She is invaluable. She makes it possible for me to do my job while she manages the minutia.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a Benji myself.” He looked up abruptly. “Was that inappropriate?”
Maria scowled. “Ish.”
“You know what I mean.”
“True.”
He cleared his throat and pressed ahead. “You fired Mansfield. Did he take it well?”
“No. He argued and asked for another chance. Said he recognized that he made a mistake and he would do better in the future. I told him he needed help and found him a rehab. He was there three weeks.”
“I sense...there’s more to this....”
She sighed heavily. “We...dated. Briefly. Sort of.”
“You dated an employee?”
“No. After he was terminated. After the rehab. And we only went out once. Dinner.”
“And after that?”
“He became...obsessive. Wanted to see me again. I declined.”
“Good.”
“But he wouldn’t let it go. Started sending me...photos by text. Photos of his...endowments.”
He blinked. “This clown sent the city mayor...”
Maria cut in. “Nick-pics?”
Camila smiled. “Exactly.”
“We could pull those off your phone,” he said, thinking aloud. “Although in some people’s minds, that might give you a motive for murder.”
“It certainly gave me a motive to never see him again. Didn’t even respond to his texts. Totally ghosted him.”
“Did he know anything that could be used against you?”
“No such thing exists.”
“He must have thought there was something serious brewing between the two of you.”
“I gave him no reason to believe that.”
He and Maria exchanged glances. “We need a better story.”
“I am not telling stories!”
Maria took the receiver. “Camila, let me explain what Dan means. He’s not talking about lying. But presenting a case at trial is all about storytelling. Some people have gone so far as to say the jury votes for the side that tells the best story. Jurors have a hard time following all the testimony and evidence, and they typically aren’t that great at determining which witnesses are lying and which aren’t. They end up believing the story that makes the most sense to them. Likeable protagonists, convincing motivations, plausible actions.”
“You make it sound as if I should hire a novelist instead of an attorney.”
“We do have one advantage—we get to hear the prosecution’s story first. Then we present ours. They have to give us all their evidence up front, whether it helps them or us. We don’t have to give them anything.”
“You can plan a story that explains away their story.”
“Exactly. Trust me, Dan is already searching for a story he can sell.”
“And so far,” he added, “I haven’t heard one. Why would you go out with this loser? Given what you knew about him?”
Her face reddened. “He was a handsome man. Single. I stay very busy but...I have perhaps not paid sufficient attention to my personal life.” Her eyes turned downward. “Sometimes even a mayor gets lonely.”
“But you didn’t want a second date. Even before he started sending porn. Why?”
“Many reasons. I thought he needed more time clean and sober. Plus he was on the rebound from a previous relationship, and I think he was not yet over it. Talked about his ex all through dinner.”
“Who was the ex?”
“He never said. I did not ask.”
“Did you have drinks before dinner?”
“I do not drink.”
“And it was just dinner?”
“Just dinner. Chez Guitano.”
“Best place in town. Expensive. Exclusive.”
“I could get us in.”
“No doubt. Who paid for dinner?”
“I did. He was having financial problems. Kept talking about needing to ‘scrape together some Georgies.’ Was that a mistake? Should I have made him pay?”
He drew in his breath. “I’m not even sure. It would’ve been better if you’d gone Dutch. Did you pay by credit card?”
“Of course.”
“Then the prosecution likely already has a copy of the receipt.”
“I cannot believe this. A man has been murdered and we’re talking about a dinner date.”
He pulled a few documents out of his backpack. “At this time, we know next-to-nothing about the murder itself. Jimmy got the filings, but they don’t reveal much. Except that someone apparently went to a hell of a lot of trouble to make death painful. Not only for Nick but for three other men.”
“Who were they?”
“No one knows. There have been no matching missing-persons reports. And they are all seriously burned. The coroner’s office is running tests, prints, DNA, dental records, to identify the bodies, but so far they have nothing. They’ve warned us that a positive ID may take a while. That’s why you’ve only been charged with one murder. So far.”
“You believe there will be more charges?”
He spread wide his hands. “Whoever killed Nick also killed the other three. Someone dragged all the corpses to the oven. And someone turned the heat up, gradually. So they would suffer.”
Camila winced. “That is...unbelievable.”
“It indicates more than a mere desire to kill.”
“Revenge?”
“Retribution. Punishment. Serious hate-on. Or maybe just a cruel streak. Sadism.”
“Such people do exist,” Camila said, her eyes distant.
“It’s possible this is the work of a twisted serial killer. But the cops don’t think so. They think it was you.”
“Because I fired Nick?”
“And because you own the bakery. Through a shell corporation.”
“I bought it to set an example. I have encouraged the business people in this town to acquire old storefronts. To invest in the city. Create attractions for residents and tourists.”
“The police think the killer had a key.”
“Many people know how to pick a lock.”
He shuffled through the rest of his notes. So far, he had not heard a single fact he considered encouraging. This was the most hideous murder he’d ever heard about. And all the evidence seemed stacked against their client. “The police also believe he was trying to identify you by writing your name in blood. I haven’t seen it, though I will. And they admit that the job was never finished. They say he scratched out the letter ‘C.’”
“That could mean a thousand different things.”
“They also say there are eyewitnesses who can put you in the general area at the time the oven was turned on.”
“I was downtown that day. I frequently am. That means nothing.”
“Your prints are on the premises. In the kitchen.”
“I own the building!”
He closed his backpack and folded his hands. “I admire your fighting spirit, Camila, but the prosecution has a serious case. Believe me, they wouldn’t have arrested a public official if they didn’t think they could make it stick. I want you to give me a list of everyone who might have any relevant information.”
She spent the next ten minutes thinking hard, compiling a list of names. Maria took them down on her phone and forwarded the list to Garrett and Jimmy.
“As we speak, I’ll bet the police are getting warrants to search your home and office. What will they find?”
“Nothing incriminating.”
“You’re certain?”
“There is nothing to find.”
“Think harder.”
Her jaw tightened. “There is nothing to find.”
“They’ll mirror the hard drives on your computers. Laptops, tablets, phones. Is that a problem?”
“What do you think they will find? Child pornography?”
“I don’t know what they will find. And I don’t want to learn for the first time from the prosecuting attorney. I will do everything in my power to fight these charges. But they are not going away. Unless you cop a plea—”
“I would never.”
Exactly as he thought. “Then this is going to trial. And this will likely be the hardest, meanest, ugliest fight any of us has ever seen. And by the way—no press conferences.”
“The prosecution will speak to the press.”
“But we will not.”
“That will make some people assume I am guilty.”
“Some people already assume you’re guilty and they probably always will. Sorry, I can’t help that. But a press release won’t change anything. The less said, the better. And don’t talk in jail. Don’t talk at all. Here’s the truth—you don’t know who your friends are. Anyone can be subpoenaed or bribed, and any testimony can be twisted around by a skilled questioner. Do your friends a favor. Don’t turn them into potential witnesses.”
“Anything else?”
He allowed a small smile. “You’ve been fighting like a tiger for years. Now it’s time to let us be the tigers. And we will be. We will leave no stone unturned, take every risk. We care about you. I can’t guarantee a good result. But I can guarantee I will never stop trying.”
Maybe he imagined it, but he thought her mood improved slightly. “I thank you for that.”
He shook his head. “Thank me when you address the Democratic Convention.”