Justification for Murder (12 page)

S
affron felt cold even though it was hot at the station. She felt as if she were an observer of her new life, as if everything that was going on happened to somebody else and she got to see it from the outside. She clicked the mouse and saw a new image appear on the screen. This knife was larger, looked meaner than the previous one, but she couldn’t tell whether it was the same one the man had used to cut her seat belt.

“I’m sorry, but I think this is pointless,” she said to Detective Lynch.

He was sitting on the chair normally used by visitors.

“I know it seems that way, but it would really help if we could narrow it down somewhat. Please, just a few more.”

She nodded and clicked the mouse again. Nothing. She did this for another ten minutes without getting any closer than she had been an hour earlier. Finally, she leaned against the chair’s back and sighed. “I need a break.”

“Okay. I understand.”

“Is it okay if I go to the gym? I think I need to clear my head.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“I can’t go home. I’m getting cabin fever,” she explained. She looked away. She tied her hair into a knot that came loose as soon as she had made it. “Detective, there’s no reason why somebody would want to kill me. I really think it’s not me who you should be worrying about.”

“Saffron, he was at your house.”

A shiver ran through her back. “It may have been unrelated. We’ve had some break-ins in my building before.”

“It may have been.” His face showed he didn’t believe it.

“Yeah, okay, I don’t believe it either, but it just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Okay, I tell you what, go to the gym and I’ll call you later to see how you’re doing.”

“Sounds good.” She grabbed her purse and walked toward the door before she remembered something. “Oh, my friend has my car…Do I still get to enjoy my police detail?”

“You know that neither San Jose, nor the county of Santa Clara, has a town car service, right?”

“No? Ah, that explains why there was no booze at the back of the patrol car, and why the seat was made of plastic.” She stayed there for a second, but when Lynch didn’t go on, she said, “Okay, no worries. I’ll take a cab.”

“I’ll drive you. But only this one time. I have some leads to follow up on anyway.”

He grabbed his jacket, and they both headed out back to the red candy-apple Cobra. After a small detour for Saffron to grab her gym bag, they finally got to 24 Hour Fitness. It was a large building with an even bigger parking lot, which was fairly full, more than she would have expected for the middle of a workday.

“You okay getting back on your own?” Lynch asked before she got out of the car.

“Oh yeah. I’ll call my friend and see what’s up with my car. If not, I’ll catch a cab back home.”

“I think you should go somewhere else. Maybe stay with somebody until this is over.”

“I know. I’ll think about it.”

She closed the car’s door but before leaving she said, “Detective, thank you for all you’re doing. I know it seems that I’m very flippant about this whole thing, but I’m not. I’m really freaking out.” She looked down and then looked up, locking eyes with Darcy.

“I know. I’m going to do all I can to find this creep. I promise.”

Saffron nodded and went into the gym. The music was loud and welcome. She headed for the locker room to change. When she got out, she scanned the cardio machines and chose a treadmill in the middle of the room with nobody around it. She picked the Pandora dance station saved in her phone and started running. As the machine kept increasing the pace, she pounded on it with each stride, and sweat began to mist her body.

After a few minutes, Saffron took a sip of water from her bottle. Her eyes rose and rested on the mirror in front of her. She almost tripped when she saw a man staring at her reflection. He diverted his gaze as soon as he saw her looking at him. She put her water in the cup-holder, grabbed the handles and turned around, looking for the man.

She spotted him pretending to read a magazine or a book propped on a StairMaster. He was very tall, probably six foot four, and trim. His muscles were well defined. He looked like one of those middle-age men who spent a lot of time at the gym in hopes of attracting twenty-year-old chicks.

“I must be getting paranoid,” she said to herself and sped up the run.

Saffron looked up into the mirror a few more times, checking the man, who was only a few machines away from her. She caught him looking back at her on several occasions, each increased her uneasiness. Before her twenty minutes were up, she moved to the machine area, taking the longer route just to avoid him.

S
orensen was back at his desk, updating the whiteboard. He had to rearrange the information he had on the three suicide victims to make space for the Hughes case.

“At this rate I’m going to need a second board,” he mumbled to himself. He was writing about the evidence they found between her teeth when Jon startled him.

“I got it!” he said, raising both fists as if he had just scored a goal.

“If you do that again, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.” Sorensen took the eraser and wiped off the scribble he’d just made.

“Sorensen, I found a stolen car.”

“Good for you.”

“By the victim’s house last night.”

“What?” Sorensen put his black marker down on the whiteboard’s base. He walked to Jon’s desk and stood behind him, staring at the information on the screen.

“All of the cars on the street are accounted for except this Acura.” He pointed at the entry on his list describing a black Acura with California plates, 6NJH183.

“Is it confirmed stolen? Maybe somebody was visiting,” Sorensen said, wanting to confirm that Jon had thought of all the possible angles.

“I checked all of the stolen car reports and, wait for it, wait for it—”

“Oh, Jon, cut the crap. I’m this close to punching you.” He put his thumb and index fingers together, right in front of Jon’s face.

“You really spoil everybody’s fun, you know?” Jon’s voice lost its excitement. “The report just came in.”

Sorensen focused on the computer, double-checking the list of cars, and when all the information matched, he said, “Jon, this is really great work. You definitely deserve every penny you get at this job.”

Jon’s face lit up. “Can I follow up with the owner?” After Sorensen’s crack sank in, he protested, “Hey, you know I don’t get paid, right?”

The detective patted him on the shoulder and said, “Let me know everything you find out.”

Then he went back to his desk and saw Jon pick up the phone. He reached out for his own and called Lou.

“Have you calmed down yet?”

“Some. What do you want?”

“Jon, the super intern, found a stolen car by Emma Hughes’ house. I need somebody to go there immediately and check it out before somebody screws up the evidence.”

“Do you want that more than the results on the fibers you gave me earlier?”

“Can’t I have both?”

“No. I’m sending Mauricio. If there’s anything, he’ll find it.”

“Keep me posted.”

After hanging up, he went back to Jon’s desk to listen in on the conversation, but Jon was also wrapping up.

“Okay, Mrs. Chopra, thank you for your help and we’ll call you as soon as you can come to pick up your car.”

“So?” Sorensen asked.

“Yes, the car’s registered to Ketki Chopra. She reported the car stolen an hour or so ago when she was going to use it to go to the store.”

“Where does she live?”

“Campbell. She doesn’t know the victim, and doesn’t have any friends or family who live in that neighborhood.”

“Great work. Let’s see if they find anything.”

“D
arcy, it’s Mary at the lab. I have a package for you. Should I send it over or do you want to come and say hallo?”

“Why did it go there?”

“It looks like a bunch of DVDs. Want me to send them over?”

“No need. I’ll be right there.”

Detective Lynch left the office without grabbing his jacket. It was hot and the lab was only a few blocks away. When he got outside he realized his gun was in plain view. He walked faster and started to sweat. At the lab’s reception area, Mary was on the phone. She lifted her index finger, asking for a second, but Darcy didn’t have the time to spare.

“This?” he mouthed without making a sound, pointing at a bag with five DVDs.

She nodded. Darcy took the bag and waved goodbye.

A few minutes later he was back in the office.

“Where can I watch these?” he said to the open room. In the four months he’d been in the department, he hadn’t had to watch any DVDs.

“What are they?” asked Detective Ramirez, a short Hispanic man with a Fu Manchu mustache everybody made fun of.

“DVDs from ATMs.”

“You can watch them in the small conference room at the end of the hall. The one that looks like a closet with no windows,” Ramirez said, pointing toward the other side of the building.

Darcy grabbed the bag, went to the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee and headed in the direction he was given. Ramirez was not kidding. The room barely fit two people. There was quite a lot of equipment, though some of it was already obsolete. Darcy looked through the DVDs. He picked the one from the bank located closest to Saffron’s place. The screen came to life with twitchy images of an empty street. The time was 2:04 a.m. That was too early.

He fast-forwarded until a couple filled the screen when they came up to the ATM. They were talking and laughing, and Darcy wished he could listen to what made them so carefree. They took some money out, kissed and walked away, leaving Darcy alone again. The time was 2:27.

He fast-forwarded the DVD again. The minutes passed with empty streets. He reached out for the coffee mug. Without looking he put it to his lips, but the cup was already empty. He returned it to the table. At 4:39 a.m., the image changed again. He was staring at the grainy footage of a man dressed in dark colors running toward First Street on Santa Clara. He was only on the screen for a little more than a second. Darcy rewound the video and watched it again. And again.

He walked into the main office area and from the entrance said, “Jon, I need you to do something for me.”

The intern jumped off his desk, frazzled, more than in a rush. “Sure. What?”

Darcy took him to the video room and showed him the still image of the man.

“Can you get me footage from all the cameras in a two-mile radius of this location?”

Darcy pushed the print button on the screen.

“Is this your guy?”

“Best lead I’ve got so far.” Darcy grabbed the picture of the man and looked at it closely. It was grainy, and it would be nearly impossible to make an ID. “I already have some of the DVDs, so make sure you don’t ask for the same ones.”

“Are they all here?” Jon asked, digging into the bag on the table.

“Yes. Can you start watching through them while we wait for the other ones? I want you to check between 3:00 a.m. and 6:30 a.m. for anybody who looks like this, and anybody else who looks suspicious at all.”

“You mean if they’re running or something?”

“Yes, that, and you’ll know it when you see it. Most people are pretty generic. Log the time of every single thing you find that seems out of the ordinary. I’ll check them when I’m back.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Jon.”

Darcy folded the photo and went back to his desk to grab his jacket. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Where are you now?”

“Just got home,” Saffron responded.

“I’ll be there in twenty. There’s something I want to show you.”

I
t took Detective Lynch half that time to make it to Saffron’s condo.

“How was the workout?” he asked when Saffron opened the door.

“I attacked a guy who I thought was the killer,” she said, now dressed in jeans and a bright red peasant blouse.

“You did what?” Darcy almost choked on his own saliva. “Why did you think that?”

“He kept staring at me, kept going everywhere I was going, but staying just far enough away, you know?”

Darcy just looked at her, the initial worry fading and the beginning of a grin forming on his tanned face.

“Don’t look at me that way. It was a very legitimate thought, given what I’ve been through the last few days.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, when I got fed up, I took a barbell—it was only two and a half pounds, because I didn’t want him to know I took it—and I lured the creep into the hallway that leads to the pool. It zigzags a few times, so I thought I could surprise him. I hid there, the barbell raised, and when he turned the corner to kill me, I screamed and hit him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Darcy hoped.

“Actually, I missed. The weight of the barbell propelled me forward, and I ended up on the floor. I turned around and he faced me. I got up really fast and was going to charge at him again, but without the element of surprise, he grabbed my arm.”

“I’d have paid anything to see this.”

“Oh, shut up. Where were you when I needed you, huh?” She turned around and grabbed a Vitamin Water from the fridge. “Want one?” she offered.

Darcy nodded, and she gave him a pink one.

“Anyway, so I kicked him. He yelled at me.”

“What did he say?”

“He said something like, ‘What the hell are you doing, crazy bitch?’ To which I responded, ‘You’re not going to kill me, you creep!’”

Darcy started laughing.

“By that time some people started coming up to check out what was happening. He told them that I tried to attack him, and they kicked me out of the gym.”

“This is priceless,” Darcy said, still laughing.

“No, it isn’t. I almost got the guy for you, and here you are, laughing. We need to go back to the gym and find out who he is.”

“The most I could charge him with is having a horrible pickup style.”

“What do you mean?”

“Saffron, the guy was trying to pick you up.”

“Oh no he wasn’t. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Darcy stared at her, the smirk still filling his face.

“Whatever. Why are you here anyway?” she said and sat on the sofa, crossing both legs under her.

Detective Lynch sat across from her and pulled the printout from his pocket. “Does this guy look familiar?”

“No. Hard to tell, but no, I don’t think so.”

“You sure it’s not the guy from the gym?” he joked.

She smiled, and gave him the finger.

“Seriously, doesn’t ring any bells?”

She stared at the photo for a few seconds. “Oh my God, the boots.” She tapped the picture. They were lighter than the rest of his outfit. “They look like Timberlands. The guy who tried to kill me wore Timberlands. I never saw his face when he pulled me out of the car. Do you think this is the guy?”

“This picture was taken from an ATM machine around the time he ran from your place.” He saw a shadow pass her face. “I’m having somebody at the station check other cameras and see if we can get a better shot.”

Saffron hugged herself, then rubbed her arms as if trying to warm them.

“Did you get your car yet?” he said, changing the subject.

“No. I can’t get a hold of my friend, which isn’t normal. Maybe you can take me to her place?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“No way.”

“Please.” She pouted her lips.

“That’s not a good look for you,” he lied.

“Seriously? Surprising. It’s worked every time in the past.”

“Okay, I’ll take you, but only because you made me laugh. Not because you look cute when you pout.”

“You just said it wasn’t a good look for me.”

“Don’t push it,” he said and stood. “No time for you to change. I actually have a job catching bad guys.”

He headed for the door.

“You should consider a career change. You’re a much better driver,” she said.

He closed the door behind him, leaving her inside.

“Hey, I was joking.”

“The bus stop is a few streets over. Good luck to you.” He said and squinted his blue eye in the bright sunlight.