It was pushing two o’clock by the time I went out to the garage to check on Mike and Danny’s progress. “Tell me there’s navigation in that vehicle,” I said when I approached them.
Mike shook his head. “Sorry, but this Edge is ten years old, so it doesn’t have a navigation system.”
“Damn it.” I stood at the vehicle and popped my head in through the open doors. “Find anything of interest?”
“The usual items in the glove box and console, but they belonged to the homeowner. I’m sure the killer didn’t want to raise suspicion by leaving anything of his own inside.”
“How about fingerprints?”
Danny huffed before answering. “Would you believe we haven’t found one fingerprint?”
“What do you mean? Not even from the homeowner?”
“Nope. This vehicle has been wiped clean inside and out and thoroughly vacuumed. It’s almost sterile.”
I kicked the nearest tire. “That figures. We’ve aired his face and a video of him on the news, yet nobody in the entire city knows him? How is that even possible?”
Mike shrugged. “I don’t know. All he left behind at Tom’s house was blood, which is still being tested, but honestly, I don’t know how that’ll help us. Other than that, we haven’t lifted a print of his anywhere, and since he doesn’t show up in the facial recognition program, it’s likely that he’s never been arrested, meaning he wouldn’t have prints on file, anyway.”
“Then why be so careful?”
“Sorry, but I don’t have those answers.”
I buried my hands in my pockets and jangled my change. The case was exhausting all of us, and days after the murders first began, we still hadn’t found out the killer’s name. I walked inside the house and rejoined Lutz at the end of the hallway. As I passed the table, I noticed an evidence bag containing the cell phone, wallet, and a set of house keys belonging to our vic. I tipped my head at the commander. “Anybody call the next of kin yet?”
He sighed. “That can wait until morning. There’s no sense in waking up people who can’t do anything until places open for business at eight o’clock.”
I had to agree, and we were busy enough trying to figure out how the hell to catch the killer. We didn’t need the added pressure of dealing with extended family. I looked around. “Where’s Gaines?”
“Still working on the local rideshare companies, and Phelps is going through every drawer and closet since the knock and talks proved useless.”
“So nobody saw or heard anything out of the ordinary?”
“Nope, and even if they had seen the Edge pulling into the garage, they’d have no reason to think it was anybody other than Mr. Jeffries. How’s it going with Mike and Danny?”
“About the same as the knock and talk went. Danny said the vehicle had been wiped down. No prints at all—not even from the homeowner.”
Lutz groaned just as the front door opened. Seconds later, Don wheeled the gurney to the edge of the hallway. Mark carried in the body bag and excused himself so they would have more room.
Don spoke as they lifted the body and placed it in the bag. “If you don’t have anything else, Bob, we’re going to head to my office with the vic.”
Lutz tipped his chin toward the door. “Yeah, go ahead. We have everything we need.”
Gaines walked out of the small bedroom that had been converted into an office space. “I have a few possibilities.”
I perked up. “Yeah? That’s something. What have you got?”
“Six men since ten thirty who’ve been picked up within a mile of here. That was from three different rideshare companies located within a five-mile radius of this house.”
“Okay, and you documented all of the drop-off locations?”
“Sure did, Boss.”
“Then let’s head back to the precinct and try to make some sense of everything we have.” Lutz called out to Phelps. “Mark, keep searching the house for names and clues. I’ll have a couple of officers stay behind and lend a hand.”
“Got it.”
Lutz, Gaines, and I left the house on North Richmond Street, and by taking I-90 south, we were back at the station fifteen minutes later. With much-needed cups of coffee in our hands, we gathered in the conference room with the other night shift detectives for a brainstorming session.
Lutz fisted his mouth and cleared his throat before beginning. He gave a go-ahead nod to Dan King, who was looking through the paperwork that we had taken from Tom’s safe. “What did the will and life insurance papers show you, Dan?”
He shook his head. “Nothing that will help. The beneficiary was his wife, but she’s dead. Naturally, everything would have been passed down to the son, Morgan, but he was the first to die. Neither the will nor the life insurance policy shows anyone else beyond that.”
Lutz sighed. “Okay, let’s make copies of those documents and then give the originals to the lawyer who drew up the will. He can take over that task.”
Dan wrote that down.
“Chuck, go ahead and explain to us what you’ve found out about where the killer went after leaving Mr. Jeffries’s house.”
“Sure thing.” Chuck stood and walked to the roller map at the head of the room. He pulled it down, picked up the container of pushpins, and pressed one at the location of the Jeffries home. “The killer drove Mr. Jeffries’s car—the Ford Edge that the garbageman reported seeing Tom Wallace’s killer climb into—back to Mr. Jeffries’s house. With that said, it’s logical that he’d have to get a ride back to his own residence after killing Mr. Jeffries. I contacted the local rideshare companies and got the information for rides called in during the time frame of our vic’s death. I came up with six calls for rides during that time and within a mile of the Jeffries home. It would be easy enough for the killer to hoof it a mile within ten minutes and get picked up by a rideshare driver. The problem is three fares were dropped off at actual residences, and three were dropped off at street corners. Interviewing those three homeowners will be easy enough, but the other three are unknowns.”
I added my two cents. “Six people out of the entire Chicagoland area sounds like good odds to me. We can definitely work with that.”
“But what about the unknown riders?” Dan asked.
Chuck turned his attention to him. “We’ll have to see if there are any cameras in those drop-off locations. We can also interview the rideshare drivers and get the names of the fares.”
I huffed. “Would the killer be stupid enough to use his own name?”
Lutz assured me that many did, especially if they thought they were smarter than law enforcement. “Killers are narcissists for the most part. They believe—given the power to choose who lives or dies—that they’re infallible and untouchable. We’ll get him, Jesse, and it’ll be when he least expects it.” Lutz stood and slapped his hands together. “Let’s get organized. We’ll map out those locations, talk to the drivers, and start banging on doors.”
“But it’s three a.m. How many people are going to answer their door at that time of morning?” Chuck asked.
“Not my concern. We have a killer on the loose. He may have murdered three members of the Ramsey family or maybe not. He may be the same person who killed Tom Wallace. He could have been the man who caused Rose Shapiro’s death. We aren’t sure, but one thing I do know is that he killed Martin Jeffries, and that makes him a dangerous murderer. We need to get him off the streets as soon as humanly possible. If we have to inconvenience people and wake them up, then so be it. Now let’s get busy.” When I started to dig in, Lutz held up his hand. “That doesn’t mean you, McCord.”
“What?”
“I need you alert and ready to go in five hours.”
“But you’re here.”
“And I’m going to sneak off and get some shut-eye, too, as soon as we have a plan of action. The couch in my office will do just fine.”
I left, although reluctantly, and began thinking of places in the precinct to squeeze in another couch.