When Raveneau sat down in the kitchen with Marion Coryell and her friend, sunlight was bright on both of their faces. It also revealed age, weathered lines at the mouth and the eyes, a slight yellowing of her friend’s eyes, and all the worry and sadness Marion had carried and now wore. But her voice was firm. What she had to say was not what Raveneau anticipated.
‘Alan, I mean Brandon, brought me flowers and a copy of the book. That’s when I first met him. He said he had a number of copies and was going to give it away so she wasn’t forgotten. He wanted a photo of Ann and I gave him one. I could have told you this last time we talked, but I didn’t know you had questions about the book.’
‘Did he say anything about who published it?’
‘Not that I remember, but I think it says so on the book. I had the impression it was a friend of his.’
‘That friend might have been Professor Lash.’
‘Please don’t say something like that.’
‘They were good friends, Marion.’
‘No, they weren’t. They couldn’t have been.’
‘Why not? He lied about his name and about his relationship with Lash. Do you think that’s where the lies stopped?’
‘I may be wrong again but you have to understand how often we talked about Professor Lash. Brandon and I agreed about Professor Lash. We both hate him. Excuse me a minute, I’m going to get something to show you.’
She got up and left and Raveneau looked to her friend but got nothing there. Then Marion was back and carrying a photo album that in her arms looked heavy, though she had no difficulty setting it on to the table. She turned to her friend. ‘You’ll remember this.’
She showed Raveneau a photo of Ann as a graduate student standing on upper Bancroft with the campus behind her.
‘I had two of the same and I gave him one.’
‘Gave Brandon Lindsley one?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did he say why he wanted it?’
‘He admired Ann.’
Raveneau studied the photo and asked, ‘Can I take this and get a copy made?’
‘I don’t want to lose it.’
‘I’ll get it back to you.’ Raveneau turned to the friend. ‘Are you married?’
She smiled at that and said, ‘George and I have been married forty-six years.’
‘Do you and George keep secrets from each other?’
‘Never.’
‘Then you need to walk outside while Marion and I talk.’
She walked out and Raveneau told Marion that they had recovered a partially burned photo from the bomb shelter and that the photo used in the book might also be the same as the burned one. He tapped the photo in her album. ‘I want to compare it with the burned fragment we have.’
She nodded then said, ‘If you’re going to tell me he doesn’t believe in the things Ann wrote, then I don’t know anything at all about anything.’
‘He may well believe in the things she wrote. I’m talking about something different. I’m talking about a fragment of a burned photo we found in the bomb shelter. I want to compare it to the photo in this book.’
‘Why was it burned?’
‘There were candles in the shelter and it may have been accidental that it was burned. Why it was there I don’t know yet, though we are getting closer.’ He saw her reaction and added, ‘Marion, I’m not saying Brandon Lindsley was her killer and her killer befriended you. I’m not saying that at all and I may be completely wrong about this photo.’
‘You must have one of the books. I can’t lose this picture of Ann.’
‘We do have a book but the photo there is cropped. It doesn’t show as much as this one. I’ll make sure it stays with me.’
She gave him the photo after finding an envelope to put it in. Now she sat straight-backed in her chair, her face ashen as if the conversation had exhausted her. Raveneau left soon after.
When he walked out the sky was bluer and yet the smell of burn was still very strong. He called la Rosa, left a message on her cell, and then crossed back to San Francisco to a copy shop where he knew he could get a jpeg emailed to him before he left the store. Upstairs at his desk in the homicide office he opened the image and then sized it to match the photo found in the bomb shelter. When he did that he saw a match, but it would take someone better than him looking at it. He left another message for la Rosa. This time she called back and said, ‘I’m on my way back to the office. I’ll see you in a few minutes.’
When she walked in he held the photo from the bomb shelter up against the image on his monitor.
‘Mom’s photo?’
‘Yes. An old friend of hers got her to open up a little more. The publisher of the orange book of her writings was given a copy of this photo and most likely they got it from Brandon when he was impersonating Alan Siles. Marion loaned him the photo to make copies about six months after Ann’s remains were identified. He made one or more copies.’
Raveneau read her quizzical look and answered it as best he could.
‘I don’t know if it matters at all, but I think Lindsley gave a copy of the photo to whoever published the orange book. This is the photo that’s at the back of that book, and the charred photo that came out of the bomb shelter may be the same.’
‘OK, but why are we chasing it?’
‘I don’t think Lash was the publisher, and if it was Alan Siles then that deepens the connection with him and Lindsley. Why was it left in the bomb shelter? Was it discarded because it was burned or was that intentional? If it connects Lindsley to Siles at a point when Lindsley swears he only knew Siles in passing, that’s information that might help us later. I just don’t know how yet.’ He paused. ‘But there’s something there and we need to know it. I’m sure of that.’