Chapter 40

All the wheels were turning. Cynthia kept thinking of the British tabloid stories that had made their way to Philadelphia - stories about the murder of the actress Alina Harrison. Far-fetched, she realized, but maybe she had the final piece of the puzzle that would make it all fall neatly into place? It wouldn’t be hard to determine if Jeff was in England at the time of Alina Harrison’s murder, assuming he used his own passport and did not try to hide his identity. Her husband had now been in prison for nearly six years, continuing to swear his innocence. What if he really is innocent? Cynthia wondered.

Jeff’s whereabouts would be easy enough to check. A simple phone call could place his dates. The idea of Cynthia’s theory was so compelling that she was tingling.

Gingerly, she dialed the number of the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement, identifying herself to a woman with whom she had spoken in the past on previous cases. She explained what was needed, gave the date of Alina’s murder, and asked the voice on the other end to check travel dates for Jefferson Sadlers around that time. Cynthia held her breath as she listened to the click of the computer keyboard on the other end of the phone line.

“Yes, S-A-D-L-E-R-S,” she spelled. “Date of birth May 21, 1975. Resident of Philadelphia, PA.”

“Thank you,” Cynthia said. “Let me write that down. The dates again? July 25 through July 30, 2005.”

Cynthia finally took a deep breath. “Thank you for your help,” she said calmly, although she could barely contain her excitement. Jeff had been in England for five days. Three days before Alina’s murder and one full day after. Probably just long enough to observe the reaction of the media and public, and return home satisfied, living his life as usual for a few years until Gregory Langhorne was appointed to lead the Philadelphia Symphony, triggering Jeff’s still unresolved anger toward his biological father once again.

Had it not been for that one long conversation with Alice, this series of crimes might never have been solved. Cynthia had come to like Alice very much, and to both admire and feel sorry for her simultaneously. She was actually quite surprised that Alice, who was such a private person, had come forward with the story of her love affair and illegitimate child - it had not taken many questions before she was willing to blurt it all out to Cynthia. She guessed that Alice had probably wanted to tell someone for a long time, and felt she could trust Cynthia with the story. But this would not have a happy ending for Alice. Cynthia could not imagine how Alice would react when she would ultimately learn that her only child, the baby son who had been in her heart and mind for all these years, was a murderer - and one whom she knew quite well - and that she and Gregory had directly and indirectly been the cause of this entire nightmare. Cynthia realized this meant that Jeff must have known about his biological parents for a number of years.

Cynthia knew it would be some time, perhaps a few days, before the whole story would be known, and before she could be sure this was an ironclad case. What a storm it would create when all the facts came out. She could already envision the writers rushing to complete the book, with a screenplay to follow. ‘Who will play the role of me?’ she wondered, the thought lingering a bit longer than she would have liked.

The one thing still nagging at Cynthia was what had really happened to Jeff’s adoptive mother. It seemed unlikely that Jeff would have killed the one woman who had devoted her life to him, even considering the inheritance he had received. Yet, despite the coroner’s report and the appearance of the scene, Cynthia had never been fully convinced that her death was an accident. How did this tie in with the other murders? It seemed peripherally connected, but annoying that she could not place it better in the context of the whole picture.

Once Cynthia had confirmed Jeff’s travel dates in 2005, she went directly to McDermott’s office. “I’ve figured out this case,” she said unceremoniously. She sat down with two cups of coffee, handed him one, and gave him the story in a nutshell. He took one sip and winced. She had forgotten the sugar. He opened a packet that had been sitting on his desk for a while and poured it in, stirring it with a letter opener.

“Good,” McDermott said with his usual understatement. “What do you need to pull it all together? I don’t want you trying any heroics. We need you! The task force will do whatever is necessary.”

“I need a couple of days, and some evidence. As soon as we have proof, Sutherland should be released,” she added.

McDermott nodded. “Right, but let’s be certain this is as it seems, and that Sutherland didn’t see it as his one big chance to kill Elaine Barry in the midst of all this insanity.”

“Unlikely, but I do see your point,” Cynthia said.

“We should have somebody tail Sadlers until he attempts his next murder,” Cynthia said. I think Johnson and I can handle the rest of it.”

“As I said, I don’t want you in over your head. We can have another car following at all times.”

“Not necessary. I think the simpler we keep this, the better. I don’t think he’ll wait long before his next attempt.”

“OK. Anything to wrap up this case,” he said. “Be careful!” he cautioned. He had a fatherly affection for Cynthia, coupled with great respect.

She found Johnson, and they drove directly to Jeff’s building, circling it to look for the rear entrance. Finding one that fed into an alley and back to the main street, they knew it would be easy to keep track of him. It could be more difficult if Jeff Sadlers decided to use any sort of disguise. But Cynthia was sure that Jeff could not disguise his distinctively awkward walk, even if he changed clothes into something other than his conservative style.

Cynthia was still disturbed that Jeff could have physically committed all the murders. How would he have had the access backstage without being noticed? How could he have been so invisible? How did he get into Alan Darby’s home? How did he have complete access to Elaine Barry’s home and studio? Jeff did not impress her as physically strong or agile enough to have pulled it off. Smart enough, maybe, but what about all the rest?

She half considered getting a search warrant for Jeff’s apartment, but after discussing it with Ruth, both felt they should wait. He would have left all the spare pliers in the hall, not in his home. Peanut butter in his fridge would hardly be incriminating evidence. Cynthia and Ruth had looked up an Internet article showing how rosin is made. Jeff could have made the peanut butter rosin in his kitchen a year earlier. Once set, rosin keeps a very long time. From what she knew of the procedure, he would have disposed of the sticky pan and utensils rather than waste time and energy attempting to clean off the cooked pine sap from which rosin is made.

They could not risk blowing the game by showing their hand too early. There would be plenty of time later for searching his home. Now he needed to be trapped in the act before another murder could take place.

There was one piece of research that should have been done at the beginning, although Jeff was not a suspect until now. Of course. His articles may provide some clues, Cynthia thought. She made a quick phone call to a research assistant at the station, asking her to pull up everything Jefferson Sadlers had ever written. Feature stories first; reviews next. She would be in later in the day to sit at the computer and pour over them.