Halabi looked like he wasn’t going to let Drayco join in the fun. But then he relented, confirming what Sarg had found out three days ago. “Might as well let you go in with Sargosian, Drayco. The forensic guys say blood they found on the brick outside the back entrance to Jerold’s condo was relatively fresh. And definitely his.”
He didn’t have to say it aloud. If Maura was caught standing over the body with the knife, then someone else—likely the real killer—transferred the blood to the brick as they left. Halabi motioned for Drayco and Sarg to enter the storage unit. It was barely large enough for the three of them and a table and chair, but at least, it was climate controlled with electricity.
Halabi glared at the laptop computer on top of the table, ignoring two of his men who were carting off boxes. “Took longer to trace Jerold’s key than I’d hoped because he used an assumed name when he rented this place.”
Sarg peeked over the open lid of the computer. “Powered it up yet?”
“We’ve taken photos, prints, searched the desk—hell, the whole unit, from the corner spider webs down to the snickerdoodle crumbs on the floor. We’ll take the laptop back to the office and check it there.”
Drayco filled him in on what Vito Armas had told them as well as the info he and Sarg had tracked down. Halabi put his hands on his hips. “Intriguing, I’ll grant you. At least as far as Ophelia’s murder is concerned. Still doesn’t prove Rena was involved with Jerold or that she killed him.”
“Prosecutors have built successful cases on far less.” Drayco reached into his pocket where he’d stashed a pair of gloves he’d swiped from a box on one of the police cars. He slipped them on and headed to an open box where something had caught his eye.
“Will this help?” He pulled out a voice changer device, the type that plugs into cellphones. He tossed it at Halabi, then maneuvered around the detective and powered up the laptop.
Halabi reached out to stop him, but Drayco batted his hand away. The detective’s face flushed a deep red, but he nonetheless moved behind Drayco to watch what he was doing. A password dialog box appeared on the screen, and Drayco typed in LOTTERY. That didn’t work, so next he tried CARAMEL. Just as Halabi opened his mouth to protest, Drayco typed CLIBO, and the desktop popped into view.
Aside from the password, Jerold hadn’t been particularly careful. It took all of thirty seconds for Drayco to find a spreadsheet with details of Jerold’s lottery fraud takings, as well as the address of the D.C. mail drop. It took another thirty seconds for him to find a letter Jerold had typed mentioning Rena’s involvement in the scheme, and in case of his death, the police should talk to her first.
Halabi finished reading that bit and scratched his cheek. “He didn’t trust her. Or had an inkling of her anger toward him. At any rate, this is enough to haul her in for questioning.”
Drayco turned off the laptop and folded down the lid. Halabi promptly gestured to one of his men, who strode in and spirited the computer away. The detective barked at another of his men to button down the place and ushered Drayco and Sarg outside.
Halabi focused on Drayco. “Doesn’t mean your mother isn’t guilty of something. But, if you add it to the report about the shallow wound on Jerold’s body the M.E. now says came after he was dead, well. Gives more of a ring to your mother’s crazy story.”
Sarg added, “And Zamorra didn’t mention Drayco’s mother in that letter of his.”
“Yeah, there is that.” Halabi walked to his car, which turned out to be the one with the box of gloves.
Sarg waited until Halabi was out of earshot. “I take it neither you nor Benny Baskin told him what your mother told you. That she was Jerold’s partner?”
“Technically, it’s hearsay. If there’s no proof of her involvement, they won’t be able to convict her. She can admit to it all she wants, but saying you did something isn’t the same as proving it. Besides, I have a feeling a certain uncle of mine has already taken care of it.”
Sarg looked up at the sky and squinted. “Judging by the angle of the moon, I’d say it’s about seven o’clock.”
Drayco grinned. “Nice try, but I saw you glance at your watch when I was talking to Halabi.”
“Spoilsport.”
Drayco watched as Halabi’s car sped away. “When this is all over, why don’t we drive up to Annapolis for some blue crab.”
“If that’s your way of saying you owe me, you don’t. But Crab Caprese sounds good. Lots of vitamin C. Don’t want you getting scurvy.”
Realizing he still had the plastic gloves on, Drayco pulled them off and stuffed them into his pockets. He turned back to the storage unit and gave it a hard stare as the last two police officers yanked the door shut.
Sarg said, “Uh oh. You’ve got that one-plus-two-equals-Q look. You don’t think Rena’s guilty?”
“Oh, she’s guilty all right. There’s just something ... I don’t know. Put it down to lack of sleep. My brain’s turning to mush.”
“Let’s hope Halabi can charge Rena soon. Then you can sleep for a week.” Sarg put a hand on Drayco’s shoulder. “What about your mother?”
“Benny’s working on it. We should know something tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if I can get away or not.”
“You don’t have to.”
Sarg gave Drayco a little shove in the direction of the car. “I’d kinda like to meet Maura McCune. Don’t have too many friends with mothers who are con artists.”