"You just found him like that?"
I lifted my eyebrows at Jord, resisting the urge to check the nearest mirror to see if I raised them in a sufficiently scathing manner. "I sure as hell didn't put the bullet in him," I said.
We stood on the sidewalk, a short distance from the house, while two uniformed officers unrolled a reel of yellow crime tape and cordoned off the house and yard. Since they arrived, sirens blaring, the neighborhood seemed to stir, the quiet houses now full of sticky beaks, peeking out from behind half-closed drapes. A few people even strolled into their yards, crossing their arms as they looked on with unabashed interest.
"How long has he been dead?" asked Solomon. He stood by my side, his arm close enough that his body heat radiated into mine. It crossed my mind to hold his hand but I was too aware of how many people would think I was a “weak, little woman” struggling to cope with the sight of a dead body. If only they knew! Screw them! What did I care? It was cold and I just found a corpse. I slipped my hand into Solomon's, twining my fingers with his. His fingers closed around mine, his thumb brushing over mine reassuringly.
"He's stiff as a board. The ME can give a more accurate hour but my guess? Some time last night," said Jord.
"What makes you think that?" asked Solomon.
"Apart from the rigor mortis, there are remains of takeout in the kitchen. No breakfast items."
"Was his bed slept in?" I asked, since the dead man's food choices weren't a definitive timeline. Neither was bed but it would support Jord's theory.
"Hard to say. He wasn't much of a housekeeper."
"How many plates for the takeout?" asked Solomon.
"He ate from the container. One fork. Before you ask, yes, I recognized where it came from and I'll be confirming the time of delivery shortly. That'll narrow the window of death while we wait. Excuse me." Jord stepped away as one of the uniformed officers called his name, beckoning him over.
"Why did you want to know how many plates there were?" I asked.
"If he had company for dinner, the same person might have shot him. If they were sloppy, they could have left DNA evidence behind on a fork or a drinking glass. If he were dining alone, maybe he wasn't close to any of the bank crew. Regardless, someone shot him and he wasn't expecting it," said Solomon.
"I would have definitely ordered more egg rolls if it were my last supper," I said, nodding in agreement.
Solomon regarded me. "That's all?"
I shrugged. "Potstickers too," I decided. "If I hafta go out like a light, I'm grabbing all the good stuff first. Chicken fried rice. That crispy beef thing we both like. Maybe throw in a banana fritter."
"And to wash it down?"
"Cocktails. Something fruity. Maybe a flashing ice cube."
Solomon narrowed his eyes. "Have you been thinking about this for a long time?"
"No thought required." Movement caught my attention and I leaned in to get a better view, then sighed. Exactly whom I thought it was: Garrett. I wasn't surprised to see him. Murder was his business, far more than Jord's, even though my youngest brother was the first detective to arrive on scene.
"This is a surprise," said Garrett, strolling towards us like we arranged to meet at the park for a picnic. "Just like a family reunion. Again."
"Daniel isn't here," I pointed out.
"He's busy on another case," said Garrett. "But three out of five siblings, a couple of in-laws, and an FBI agent slash ex-detective are pretty good going."
My phone began to buzz and I checked the screen. I sighed. I held it up so Garrett could see. "How does she know?" I asked. "There is no way Mom or Dad know anyone on this street!"
"You'd be surprised. Mom's network is far-reaching."
I ignored the buzzing and stuck the phone back into my pocket. If Mom's network were so extensive, she could find out from someone else what we were doing. She probably already had the crucial information: none of her children were injured. Before I could say anything else, Garrett's phone trilled. He reached for it, sighed, and put it in his pocket.
"Who's the stiff?" he asked, glancing towards the house.
"That's an excellent question," said Solomon.
"And the answer is?" Garrett waited.
"We don't know yet," I told him. "Solomon and Delgado tracked the getaway van from the bank to this location and the dead guy was inside the house."
"The bank? As in the heist? Jord's case?" Garrett scratched his chin.
"The very same," said Solomon.
"That's why we called Jord. Investigating a bank heist is one thing. A murder quite another," I pointed out. "It's too much of a coincidence for the cases not to be related. Are you going to work together on this?"
Garrett shrugged. "Most likely. The DA already started making noises about sticking an attempted murder charge on the robbers when they're caught. He's up for re-election next year and prosecuting an attempted murder on a cop is good publicity," he explained, raising a hand to wave to Jord as he walked towards us. "Plus, going hard on a bank hold-up makes terrific headlines."
"So, the ME is taking a look now but I'm certain this is murder and not self-inflicted. Garrett, do you want to confirm?" asked Jord. Garrett nodded. "I ran the plates on the van in the garage and it was stolen a week ago from a car lot. I noticed a key tossed on the driver seat. Nothing in the back but I'm going to have the techs go over it for any trace evidence."
"I'm surprised they didn't dump and burn it," said Maddox. "Seems careless."
"You're still here," said Solomon.
Maddox half-smiled. "Burgers," he replied.
"There are burgers?" asked Garrett. He sniffed the air. "Where?"
Solomon sighed. "What is it with you all and your empty stomachs?"
"You've seen how we were raised," I told him as I checked my watch. It had been a long time since lunch and although seeing the corpse briefly put me off, the hunger pangs started up again. "Maddox has a point. Why didn't the thieves burn the van? They had to know MPD would be on high alert looking for it and the moment it was identified, it would be too hot to move."
"There's not a lot of security around here," said Delgado. "I figured they drove the van into the garage and everyone took off. Or maybe the crew were dropped off on the way so they could disperse. It's not like they were carrying large bags filled with cash. Could be that the driver was supposed to dump it right away, or hide the vehicle and dispose of it when everything quieted down. The alley is overgrown enough that no one would go searching there."
"You said the key was in the van? Maybe they hoped someone would steal it? The next thief gets caught and ends up an accidental patsy," I suggested. "No one would believe they just 'happened' to steal the van and didn't have anything to do with the prior crime."
"The only hole in that theory is a thief would give up where they found it to save their own ass from a hefty indictment. That would lead directly to here and the occupant," said Jord.
"Yeah, I guess," I conceded. "So, we're back to the idea that it's a high probability the guy inside that house is our driver."
"Or, at the very least, he was on the crew or closely associated with them," said Solomon. He fixed Jord with an assessing look. "Where does that leave MPD?" he asked.
"I can't disagree with anything you've said," replied Jord. "The theory fits. I have an ID on the guy. Thomas Mackleton. Montgomery native. Arrest record for stolen vehicles since he was a teenager. He is... he was twenty-six, and he's been clean for two years. Didn't have a steady job."
"How'd he afford the house?" I asked. "I know this part of Harbridge isn't a great neighborhood so that pulls the rent down, but it looks like there’re three bedrooms and a sizeable yard plus, the detached garage."
"It's a squat. When I went inside, I found notices on the floor about foreclosure. I figured Mackleton found it empty and homesteaded. He jerry-rigged the electric power and I'm pretty sure he's leeching internet services from the neighbor."
"Mind if I poke around?" asked Maddox.
"Knock yourself out," replied Jord, stepping aside to let Maddox pass.
"Can we?" I asked.
Jord tilted his head. "No!"
"You let Maddox!"
"He's an FBI agent! He asked as a courtesy. Saying no wouldn't mean a thing."
I turned to my oldest brother, and the most senior officer on scene. "Garrett?"
"No. Poke around later behind my back like you usually do," said Garrett.
"I have never!" I protested.
"Did you find a weapon?" Solomon interrupted before anyone could call me a liar.
"We did not," said Jord. "But my best guess is it came from a nine millimeter at close range. No defensive wounds."
"So Mackleton knew his killer and possibly let them in," said Solomon, nodding. "This is looking like a clean-up op. What are your thoughts, Delgado?"
"Eradicate the weak link," said Delgado. "Sensible. He didn't get rid of the van. We found him. The police found him. Someone made sure he couldn't talk."
"What kind of psycho is running this crew?" I asked.
"A pretty efficient one," said Solomon. "That's also worrying."
Maddox walked back to us. "I couldn't see anything that stood out as Mackleton being a part of the robbery other than the van," he said. "No signs of anyone else living there so I won't be surprised to hear his fingerprints were found on the van."
"What about the stolen property from the bank?" I asked.
"The place is a dump. I wouldn't exclude Mackleton from having a hiding place but I doubt very much that any valuables, whatever they might be, would be left with him," said Jord. "I'm not even convinced they stole anything at present. The bank manager couldn't confirm it either."
Solomon and I exchanged a look. I wondered if he also thought Charlie Sampson wasn't telling the police the truth. "What happens now?" I asked.
"Jord and I will team up," said Garrett. "Jord will keep investigating the heist and find out what they stole, if anything. I can't see a crew that organized leaving empty-handed. I'm going to personally take on Mackleton's murder and we'll share our findings. Sound good to you, Detective?"
"Yes, Lieutenant," said Jord. "I appreciate the assistance."
"The FBI has no current interest in this," said Maddox, "But I'd be grateful if you kept me in the loop out of curiosity's sake. I had an idea this might be linked to something bigger but now I'm not so sure. Mackleton has never been on my radar and I'd like to know whom he associates with."
"We'll keep you informed." Garrett looked from Solomon to me, then Delgado. "I'm not going to tell you to keep out of it since I know you'll ignore me anyway, but I will ask you to keep us in the loop too. Let's set up a meeting in a day or two and see where we are. Sound good, everyone?"
We all nodded with murmurs of cooperation, then Delgado said, "So, about those burgers?"
"Let's go," said Solomon.
~
Solomon, Maddox, Delgado and I stopped at the drive-through and placed an order for enough food to feed a small army while we mused the merits of the case. After eating, we returned to Mackleton's neighborhood and dropped Maddox off at his car. Solomon handed me a sack of food to take to my brothers who were still working the crime scene before we returned Delgado to his vehicle. He was eager to head home and hose off the scent of alley garbage before Serena had a conniption fit.
We ate our food in the car while watching the officers move from house to house, interviewing people on their stoops. Solomon kissed my salty fingers and insisted it was late and time to go home. Since I'd eaten, and my mind was buzzing with possibilities, I was happy to acquiesce. I fell asleep not long after we climbed into bed.
When I awoke the next morning, Solomon was lying on his stomach, his head turned towards me, his face soft with sleep. I snuggled close to him and allowed myself some extra snooze time. The sound of my phone trilling barely roused me. When it rang a second time, I picked it up.
"This is so exciting," cooed Lily. "Jord told me all about it!"
"Huh?"
"The big case and the murder of the getaway driver and I think I can help."
"Huh?"
"Are you awake?"
"Not really."
"Call me back when you're fully awake."
"Okay."
"Don’t forget!" said Lily before she hung up.
I sighed and got out of bed. By the time I brushed my teeth and showered, Solomon was moving around, his clothes laid out on the bed. I kissed him, offered him coffee, and got dressed in black pants and a plain blue blouse with pearl buttons. It was a little more formal than my usual attire but I planned to visit the bank. Sure, it wasn't my case but Maddox was right. I needed to look at the scene again with fresh eyes. There had to be a clue we missed, and perhaps something would trigger a memory of the heist. Then I could concentrate on the Takahashi case without interruption.
I explained my idea over breakfast to Solomon and he nodded.
"I'm not sure what you'll find or even if they cleaned up the bank vault yet but it's a good idea to take another look," he said. "I'm working with the team to track down Thomas Mackleton's movements. He has priors so that might give us some insight into his associates."
"Are Garrett and Jord happy to work together with you on that?"
Solomon tipped his head in contemplation. "So they said. We all know it makes more sense to cooperate in terms of both time and knowledge. We can discuss our findings as Garrett requested."
I left the house first, driving over to the bank in Solomon's car when he assured me Delgado would collect him and someone else would retrieve the pool car from Lily's bar. I contemplated arriving at First Eastern Bank unannounced but Solomon had suggested it was best to inform Charlie Sampson to ensure no cleanup operation had been initiated, rendering it a pointless journey. Plus, he reminded me, the bank case wasn't my responsibility.
"I was going to get started on the cleanup with a couple of employees today," Charlie said when he met me at the front door of the bank. He allowed me in a full hour before the bank officially opened. "Since the police and your team left, I simply closed the vault door and left it while I thought about what to do."
"So nothing was moved?" I asked.
He shook his head. "It's the same mess as the day of the robbery. Truthfully, I'm not entirely sure how I'll even organize the items they left behind. We informed the owners of the boxes that were untouched and undamaged that their property is safe. The owners of the damaged boxes are a trickier matter."
"Oh?"
"Because we don't know the exact contents of every box, it looks like they'll each have to identify their property. I may well have to ask them to provide proof of ownership in case of any false claims. For some items, that will be simple. Others, less so. Some won't want to admit what is inside their boxes at all."
"What happens to those items?"
"I'm not sure yet. I'll talk to the higher-ups and hear what they have to say." Charlie scratched his head. "It's unprecedented for the bank as I'm sure you'll understand."
"A robbery?"
"No, that happens occasionally although not for the past few years because security is so tight these days. We've never had a successful vault raid before, although there was an attempt, oh, twenty years ago. I only hope the publicity doesn't ruin our reputation."
"What makes this time different?"
"I hope you can tell me. Maybe they were simply more experienced."
As we talked, we traveled through the small rear lobby and down the stairs into the basement. The vault door was closed and I waited while Charlie entered a code in a digital keypad, then input his palm print. The door unclicked and Charlie pulled the thick door open, standing back to let me inside the windowless room. I stared at his hand for a moment and he looked at me. "I wondered if they might cut it off," he said with a sigh.
"Don't dwell on it," I said, turning to assess the mess. Debris was scattered across the floor. Bits of twisted metal, a lock without its casing, a single diamond earring, sheafs of paper... everywhere I looked something was out of place. "How did you plan to organize all this?" I asked.
"I thought we would bring in a long, folding, table and assemble everything on it," said Charlie. "It's old school but it should work. The paperwork should be easily identifiable. Everything else—" He threw his hands up in defeat.
"I like that idea. I can help do that as I take a look," I said. "Can you get a table?"
"I can't leave you in here alone," he said, opening a small box on the wall. He pulled out a corded telephone and asked for the table to be brought down. "The bank insists on having phones in the vaults in case anyone ever gets stuck."
"Does that happen often?"
"It's happened a couple times."
"I'm going to start looking through the debris."
Charlie glanced around, appearing uncomfortable. "I have to ask that you don't photograph anything, but you can take notes. We have to respect our clients’ privacy."
"Understood," I said. I would have preferred photos to sift through later but I came prepared with a notepad and pen. There was no point in sketching the scene since I wasn't an artist and it could only result in an ill-informed squiggle. I preferred to take notes since the list might become useful later. Although, I decided as I sank to my knees, it might also be an absolute waste of time. What if the stolen box contained one single item, and that item was long gone? "How about if I notate the items and then pass them to you to display on the table?" I suggested. "We can document and display them at the same time."
"That would speed things up considerably, sure. I have the time. Ahh. Here's the table."
Two employees arrived with a long, folding painter's table. They set it up against the far end of the room, then stepped out, giving me curious glances. I could understand their interest; they probably wanted to know what was going on too.
I started with the smallest item nearest me, the diamond earring, and recorded it in my notepad before passing it to Charlie. Surprisingly, the task wasn't boring, just slightly laborious as the list grew. I sifted the remains of box debris from the obvious contents. Birth records, property records and old letters comprised the bulk of ephemera, along with a crumpled coin magazine, a bundle of cash in euros, and a startling array of naked photos. Several passports had the same photograph with different names. I pondered that before handing them to Charlie as I found them. That was not the mystery I was here to solve, although I did jot down the names, just in case.
There was a lot of jewelry made from all kinds of different stones and styles which, to my untrained eye, looked very valuable. I found several flash drives which I handed to Charlie although I wished I could’ve seen what was on them. There was a small handgun wedged under a metal sheet. "I think you should speak to the police about this," I said as I covered my hand with a tissue before picking it up. I lay the gun on the table rather than handing it to Charlie.
"I'm not sure about that. Clients pay for the privilege of privacy."
"It could have been used in a crime," I said.
"What if the robbers left it behind?"
We both looked at the small handgun. It was nothing like the weapons the robbers toted. However, being a weapon found in the aftermath of a robbery would give Charlie some plausible deniability if the gun were connected to a patron of the bank. "Then you should definitely call Detective Graves down here," I said as I moved away, checking to see if anything else were gun-related. I didn't find any bullets or a gun case so I moved onto the last remaining items, adding a thick folder containing a stamp collection, some very old books, and a few more fragments of jewelry to the table. A pile of mangled metal lay on the floor beneath, the material twisted and warped beyond repair, which gave me an idea.
"When did you last have the boxes maintained?" I asked.
Charlie shrugged. "Some thirty years ago I’m told, and they've never needed any maintenance. The only upgrade is the palm scanner outside the door and that was upgraded at least a decade ago. The boxes with the fingerprint scanners were renovated at the same time."
"Any other workers down here in the last few months? Electricians? Plumbers? Pest control?"
"No, no one."
So much for the idea that someone lied their way inside, although it did increase the possibility of an inside job. I didn't tell Charlie that, although I wondered if the idea occurred to him. Instead, I gazed at the array of items unduly liberated from their boxes and wondered what could possibly be more valuable than these? For the price the client's paid for privacy, their stored items were hardly exciting.
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in Solomon's car, reviewing my notes when my phone rang. Instead of Lily calling me back to remind me to call her, it was Austen.
"Can you come to the house?" he asked, a trace of urgency in his voice that had me sitting up straighter.
"Yes, of course. Is everything okay? Is your wife okay?"
"Stable and no change. The nurse told me if I didn't go home, shower and change, she would forcibly evict me and not let me return until I did. I got home at midnight and started looking for a bag to take back to the hospital with some of Sophie's things for when she wakes up and I found something."
"Oh?"
"It's... Lexi, I don't know what to make of it. Could you come by and take a look?"