It was noon by the time we’d returned to our office. Renz had updated Taft every half hour, Brandon’s body was taken to the medical examiner’s office, and the car was in the county crime lab’s garage and being processed from top to bottom.
We gathered again in the conference room, where everyone had a few minutes to report on the jobs they were assigned that morning. The mayor’s office didn’t know of any dignitaries coming to town for personal, political, or educational reasons. The art museum had nothing extraordinary on loan coming in or going out, and the jewelry stores didn’t have unusual amounts of diamonds being shipped in from Antwerp. Neither the casino nor any city banks were moving large sums of money, but worst of all, we didn’t know who killed Brandon.
I tapped my pen as I thought and then presented my idea. “What if we go back to where we caught sight of Brandon yesterday, check every store that has a camera, and see if we catch him or ourselves on the footage. If someone was following him before we were, we’d notice them following us, too, once he was in our custody.”
“Not a bad idea,” Renz said.
Maureen closed the folder in front of her. “As long as nobody has any leads to follow through on, I want half of you to contact the police departments in the jurisdictions where the crimes took place, find out if they’ve heard any local chatter from their confidential informants, and see if they’ve followed up on the restaurants where there’s homeless camps on the sidewalks and if they’ve spoken with the sanitation departments. Before I completely rule out the targeted killing of homeless people, I want to make sure the police followed through with talking to those sources. Renz, Jade, Kyle, and Charlotte, I want you four to hit every store on that street that has cameras to see if you can spot someone following Brandon and then yourselves.” Taft stood. “Let’s get busy. I’ll check with the sheriff’s office to see if they’ve made any progress, and then I want everyone back here at five o’clock for a wrap-up meeting.”
We headed out knowing full well that at least half the stores would be closed because it was Sunday, but we would do our best with the ones that were open and hope they had cameras facing the street. Unfortunately, we didn’t know where Brandon had spent that hour and a half between the time he left the underpass tent city and when I spotted him on the sidewalk. The only way to tell if he was being followed was if the same person was spotted behind him and then again behind us. If we did see someone, our tech department could use the facial-recognition software to see if there was a match in the criminal database.
“Too bad it’s Sunday,” I said and then waited for someone to ask why. Finally, Charlotte did.
“Okay, why is it too bad it’s Sunday other than the obvious reason we’d said earlier about stores being closed?”
“Because the bank is closed, too, and they would definitely have cameras outside, especially in front of the building where the armored trucks park.”
“Hmm… that’s a fact all right,” Kyle said. “They’d also have the best equipment, meaning we’d see the clearest images.”
I added my two cents. “Which would work the best with the facial rec software.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “What was the name of the bank, Renz?”
“Milwaukee First Bank.”
“Oh yeah.” I tapped the name into the search bar and waited. That name was obviously a branch of banks since five of them popped up in Milwaukee County. I located the one on Hemmer Street and tapped on the website. It showed the days and hours of operation, and as expected, they were closed on Sundays.
Renz called back to me. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find a number for somebody who will come down here, open the bank, and let us view their footage.”
Charlotte sighed. “Good luck with that.”
“Well, if you don’t try, you’ll never succeed.”
Renz chuckled from the driver’s seat. “I like that about her. She’s like a trained sniffing dog, but instead of sniffing for drugs, she sniffs for the bad guy.”
“Gotta sniff them out, partner.”
“Damn straight. Have you found a number yet?”
“Give me a minute, and I’ll let you know. I had success once with finding out who owned a hotel. I called him at home in the middle of the night because his night manager was rude and abrasive to me. He was shocked that I was able to track down his name and home number. Maybe I can do that with the bank president or somebody in an upper tier of management.” I continued searching my phone while Renz drove. After exhausting the bank’s website for a personal number, I moved on to the “who is” database and entered the name of the bank manager, assuming I would catch her at home easier than I would the bank president. I tapped the name Elizabeth Morrison and Milwaukee into our prepaid account and waited for the results that would give me her age, relatives, phone number, and address. The easy accessibility of that information was scary, yet it was all public record that anyone could access at the courthouse if they had the time and tenacity. This way was faster and easier. “Got it. Now let’s see if anyone answers the phone. I don’t know if the number they show is her cell or a landline.”
“Who are you trying to call?” Kyle asked.
“The bank manager. I figured she might be easier to reach than the bank president.” I waited. “Okay, it’s ringing.”
“Put it on Speakerphone,” Renz said.
I did that before someone picked up, then we waited as the phone rang on Elizabeth Morrison’s side.
“Hello.”
I wasn’t actually expecting anyone to answer and was taken aback but collected myself quickly. “Hello, is this Elizabeth Morrison?”
“Yes it is. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Yes, ma’am. This is SSA Jade Monroe from the FBI.”
“Is this some kind of a joke?”
“I assure you, ma’am, it isn’t. I have you on the line with three other agents, and we need your help.”
“You need my help? With what?”
I continued. “Ma’am, we need to access the footage from yesterday on your bank’s camera that faces Hemmer Street.”
“I’m sorry, but this sounds like a prank. I’m going to hang up.”
I held my phone against Renz’s right shoulder so he could add his two cents. “Mrs. Morrison, this is Senior Special Agent Lorenzo DeLeon, and I assure you this isn’t a prank. If you feel more comfortable about it, we can have a patrol unit pick you up. It’s imperative that we see yesterday’s footage.”
“I’d have to clear it with the bank president first. I can’t just waltz in there after hours and do whatever I like. I’d be fired immediately.”
“Ma’am, our supervisory agent can take care of all those details. We really don’t have time to wait. All she’d need is the president’s name and police units can track him down and explain to him as well what’s going on.”
“What actually is going on?”
“It’s a life-or-death matter, but because it is an active investigation, we can’t tell you anything more than that. Would you like a police escort? I can arrange for a unit to pick you up in five minutes.”
“Yes, I suppose, but somebody absolutely needs to contact the bank president, and I’ll try to reach him, too, during the drive.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll have a patrol unit at your door in five minutes.” Renz rattled off her address that I’d just written down and read it to her, and she acknowledged that it was correct. “Thank you, ma’am, and we’ll meet you in front of the bank in fifteen minutes.”
I clicked off the call, contacted Taft, and told her we would be viewing the bank’s footage within the hour but said she needed to explain our situation to the bank president. I gave her his name and number, and she said she’d take care of it immediately.