Nicoletti spent Thursday morning making calls from Anne Bertone’s kitchen table. By ten o’clock, he had set things in motion.
His first call was to the senior partner of the law firm in Washington. After he explained why he had to delay his return to work, the partner had insisted on putting him in touch with a defense attorney in Helena, who had then referred Nicoletti to Robert Marx, a local attorney in Missoula.
Marx was familiar with the case and wanted to meet right away before Nicoletti “answered any more questions from the police.” Nicoletti put off the meeting until Friday. He did not want to waste several hours listening to a lawyer articulate the obvious.
The Missoula attorney was pacified when Nicoletti agreed Marx could immediately notify Chief Garland that Nicoletti was now represented by counsel and the police should refrain from contacting his client directly.
After being safely nestled into the cocoon of that part of the justice system reserved for the accused, Nicoletti went about his work as the investigator, a role with which he was, thankfully, more familiar. In between calls, he paced from room to room, waiting for the results to trickle in.
Thomas Marley was the first to call back. The DEA computer operators in Denver had found the Montana license plate on the 1999 Chevrolet Suburban registered to Charles Durbin. The address on the registration was the same as the one Reichert had supplied last night, and it was the same address the local phone book listed for the Montana Salon for Pets.
Anne came through the front door with Lenny Pandori. In the kitchen, Nicoletti was pouring his fifth cup of coffee and finishing his third cell phone call with Marley. To Nicoletti, Pandori looked younger and more energized than he had the day before at the police station.
“Nico, pour me a cup.” Pandori sat at the table and handed Nicoletti several pieces of paper.
The first sheet confirmed, through the Montana Department of Motor Vehicles, the information Marley had provided. The second was a faxed copy of Durbin’s driver’s license photo, which Anne identified as the dog groomer. The third sheet was an addendum to the license and registration information, indicating that Durbin had been previously licensed in the state of Colorado.
Nicoletti’s cell phone rang. It was Marley again.
“Hey, Nico, I did some more checking. There was a Charles Durbin in the system who has a prior arrest in Colorado Springs, September third of last year. He was charged with criminal trespassing. The printout doesn’t show the final disposition of the case, but the date of birth and the description match your Durbin.”
“Get a hold of Ken Palmer in the Springs,” Nicoletti said.
“Ken retired last year. There’s a new guy running the DEA office now, a guy out of headquarters.”
“No. I don’t want any new guys. Call Palmer. I need an old-timer I can trust. Brief him on the situation. Give him the information you found and ask him to run it all down. When he has something solid, tell him to call me on my cell.”
“Yes, sir. Once a general, always a general. I’ll call you later.”
Nicoletti turned his attention to Pandori. “How far along is Reichert?”
“Not very—he’s buried in paper and leads. They’ve added two investigators from the sheriff’s department to help on the case, but Garland has them following up on the out of town truckers they’ve identified by gasoline receipts.”
“Did he pick up Marie-Justine’s answering machine?”
“Yesterday afternoon. I went with him right after I got the call from you. He kept asking why I thought it was so important. All I told him was that we had to be thorough in case it became important later.”
“And that was good enough?”
“No, but he’s so overwhelmed that any questions he has in his mind only stay there for a few seconds, then he forgets about them.”
“That’s not good,” Nicoletti said. “If he’s going to find the killer, he’s got to keep thinking clearly. Nothing should be forgotten and fall through the cracks. I’m going to talk to Chief Garland. He’s got to get the sheriff’s office fully involved. Reichert needs all the help he can get.”
“I don’t think you talking to Chief Garland about anything right now is a good idea.” Pandori got up and poured another cup of coffee. “Garland still sees you as the most likely perpetrator. He’s not going to take any chance that could lead the press to believe he’s taking investigative advice from his prime suspect.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Think so? They had a press conference this morning. Deputy Chief McKay told them the police had several suspects, some of whom had already been interviewed.”
“Who else has been interviewed?” Anne asked.
“Only our boy Nico, no one else,” Pandori said. “So you can see that Garland is already setting the stage for a quick arrest.”
Anne opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of iced tea. “That’s the dumbest thing he could do. If the press is expecting an immediate arrest, every day that goes by will make them more aggressive. In a week, they’ll be demanding Garland’s head on a plate.”
“Garland’s got other pressures to worry about,” Pandori said. “I was in his office this morning when the DA stopped in. Garland told him that the fingerprints were a match to Nico’s. They agreed that if the blood type on the down vest found near Marie-Justine’s body is also a match, and they can get a positive identification from a lineup, they won’t wait for DNA results before arresting Nico.”
“And what was supposed to be my motive?” Nicoletti said.
“They’ll invent one if they have to just to get the thing resolved,” Pandori said. “I told you, Nico, they don’t care if they drop the charges later. The effort is not to have this hanging over any of their heads during the campaign.”
“Well, they’re not going to get the lineup ID any time soon. My lawyer, Robert Marx, will see to that.”
“Marx?” Pandori said. “You gotta be kiddin’. That poor bastard couldn’t shake a turd off a stick, let alone get anyone off a murder charge.”
Nicoletti swallowed hard. He sat at the table and rubbed his right shoulder. “What else?” he asked Pandori.
“The only other avenue that Garland is allowing Reichert to pursue is the possibility that Dr. David Cantrell might have hired someone to kill Marie-Justine.” Pandori took a sip of coffee. “The problem is that Reichert doesn’t have time to piss, let alone follow up on leads in California.”
“Neither do we,” Nicoletti said. “You know, Lenny, you can get jammed up by working with me behind Garland’s back.”
“The way I figure it, it’s not behind his back; it’s out in front of him. Besides, if the Bureau tries to transfer me for pissing off the local big wigs, I’m sure you can get that big law firm of yours to battle it as punitive in the DC, courts. By the time they finish filing the paperwork, I’ll be ready to retire anyway.”
“Maybe I could get Robert Marx to take your case.”
“Yeah, with him representing me, I’ll beat the transfer and end up on the guillotine.” Pandori turned to Anne. “What was the color and type of clothing Marie-Justine wore most often?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe gray and black. Or blue jeans and white shirts. I don’t know. Why?”
“It’s part of the ViCAP form I’m filling out and I want to get it done today,” Pandori said.
“ViCAP—what’s that?” Anne asked.
“It’s a crime analysis report for the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program,” Nicoletti said. “Detectives who have homicides, solved or unsolved, that involve abductions or appear to be random or sexually oriented, submit the information to the program for analysis and comparison to other similar crimes in the system. If they find any significant matches, they notify the detectives so they can begin to share their information and evidence.”
“Most serial killers develop patterns,” Pandori said. “The sooner the facts of one homicide in a series can be linked to other crimes by the same killer, the sooner information can be developed to catch him before he claims more victims.”
“You think M-J was murdered by a serial killer?” Anne looked at both men.
Pandori looked at Nicoletti, who was nodding his head affirmatively to Anne’s question.
“Lenny, before you go back to the office, I need you to set up on Durbin’s house. If he goes anywhere, give him a loose tail and keep me advised. I’ll relieve you in about an hour.”
Anne closed the front door behind Pandori and looked at Nicoletti. “What do we do now?” she asked.
“Let’s go over to Marie-Justine’s. You can check her closet for an accurate answer to the ViCAP question. Since we don’t have any good information on the killer, the better we detail Marie-Justine, the better the analyst’s response will be. Then you can come back here. I’ll go back to the hotel to check messages, shower, change clothes, and then hook up with Lenny,” he said.
She stood facing him with her hands on her hips. “What am I supposed to do while you two are out watching Durbin?”
“You stay here. Keep the doors locked and I’ll call you later.” He walked past her.
At the front door, he stopped and turned around. She had a look on her face that made Nicoletti glad she didn’t have anything to throw at him.
“Okay, lock up the house. Grab some of that bottled water you’ve got stacked in your fridge and let’s go. And you’d better take a coat. It’s going to be a long night.”
Anne hurried out the door and caught up with Nicoletti on the front walk.
“You’re not quite the tough old bastard you think you are,” she said.