Detective (13 page)

But most essential at this moment
was intensive focus on this latest
case, coupled with reexamination of
the other two. There was no question
that Homicide was combating a bona
fide serial killer.

"Were you able to get Ainslie and
Quinn?" Greene asked.

Newbold nodded. ''They're on their
way. And I told Quinn to call his
contact in Lauderdale."

A few minutes later an ID crew of
four technicians arrived, followed
almost at once by the ME, Sandra
Sanchez. Whatever phoning Newbold
had done after Greene's urgent call
from the crime scene, he'd evidently
pulled out all stops, probably by
going much higher in the department.

Through the next five hours work
progressed swiftly. Near the end of
that time the remains of Lazaro and
Luisa Urbina were placed in body
bags and conveyed to the county
morgue, where, later that night,
they would be autopsied. Sergeant
Greene would attend the autopsy,
again putting off the paperwork on
his desk for at least one more day,
by which time still more would have
been added.

While detailed study and analysis
needed to be done on much of the
evidence collected by the ID crew,
one disappointment emerged early.

"Pretty certain the perp wore
gloves," the fingerprint technician,
Sylvia Walden, told Sergeant Greene.
"There are quite a few smudges, the
kind made by latex surgical

DETECTIVE 105

gloves same as we had at the Royal
Colonial. Also, I think whoever did
this knows enough to wear two pairs
of latex gloves, because with one
pair a print will come through after
a while. There are some prints
around, of course, and we'll check
those out, but they're probably not
the perp's.''

Greene shook his head and mumbled,
"Thanks."

"For nothing," Walden added.

Several hours earlier, Ainslie and
Bernard Quinn had arrived at Pine
Terrace and agreed with Newbold and
Greene that a single serial killer
was now their quarry.

On his way out, Ainslie walked
around the scene a second time
before the victims' bodies were
removed, lingering over the bronze
bowl still close to the dead woman's
hand. There was something about that
container and its contents that
stirred an idea, a vague memory, an
incomplete image he could not
define. Ainslie returned to the
object twice, hoping the elusive
notion in his mind would clarify.

Maybe there was nothing at all, he
decided, nothing except his own
weariness with scenes of tragic
death, and perchance some wishful
searching for new leads. Perhaps
what he needed now was to go home
and spend an evening with his family
. . . laugh around the dinner table
. . . help Jason with his homework .
. . make love to his wife . . . and
possibly, by morning, some answers
would have sprung to mind.

As it turned out, the next morning
produced no new thoughts. It took
four more days, when he least
expected it, for Ainslie's memory to
awaken with dramatic, shocking
clarity.

4

Four days after the Pine Terrace
murders, Lieutenant Leo Newbold held
a formal Homicide Department
conference. It included supervisors
and detectives involved with the
serial killings, ID technicians, a
medical examiner, and a state
attorney. Senior police officers
were informed of the conference; two
attended. It was at that conference,
as Ainslie thought about it later,
that the drama broadened and, like
a Shakespearean plot mutation, a new
cast of characters entered the
scene.

Among the new characters though
not new to Homicide was Detective
Ruby Bowe, a member of Sergeant
Ainslie's investigative team. Ruby,
a petite, twenty-eightyear-old black
woman with a penchant for glittering
earrings and stylish clothes, was
liked and respected, worked as hard
as anyone in Homicide, sometimes
harder, and expected no concessions
because of her sex. She could be
tough and tenacious, even ruthless.
But at lighter times she displayed
a sense of fun and mischief
appreciated by her colleagues.

Ruby was the youngest of nine
children born to Erskine and Allyssa
Bowe, all of whom were raised in the
crimeridden ghetto of Miami's
Overtown area. Erskine Bowe

DETECTIVE 107

was a police officer who had been
shot and killed by a fifteen-year-old
neighborhood boy on drugs and in the
process of robbing a local 7-Eleven
store. Ruby was twelve at the time,
devastatingly young to lose her
father, but old enough to remember
their special closeness.

Erskine Bowe had always believed
there was something extraordinary
about Ruby, and had said to his
friends, "She's going to do something
important. You just wait."

Ruby, even so long after her
father's death, still missed him
terribly.

Ruby had attended Booker T.
Washington elementary school and
Edison High, where she was a diligent
student and volunteered for
extracurricular activities, most
aimed at social justice and change.
She had fought especially hard
against drug abuse, knowing it had
been the real killer of her father.

Armed with an academic scholarship,
Ruby attended Florida A&M University,
majoring in psychology and sociology.
She graduated with honors and,
fulfilling a lifelong dream,
immediately joined the Miami Police
Department. Her father had been on
the force for seventeen years; maybe
in some positive way she could
redress his death while "changing the
world." And if not the world, perhaps
in some significant way her own
neighborhood.

No one was unduly surprised when
Ruby graduated from the police
academy at the top of her class. What
did raise eyebrows was a decision by
Lieutenant Newbold to accept Ruby
immediately as a Homicide detective.
The move was unprecedented.

Homicide, in any police force, was
an apex. Homicide detectives were
considered to have the best brains
and the greatest resourcefulness, and
their prestige made them the envy of
most colleagues. Because of this,
Ruby's appointment left a few older
of ricers, who had hoped to join
Hom

108 Arthur Halley

icicle themselves, disappointed and
resentful. But Newbold had a gut
feeling about Ruby. "There are
times," he confided to Malcolm
Ainslie, "when you can just smell a
good cop."

Ruby had now been a Homicide
detective for four years, with an
official rating of "outstanding."

As a member of Sergeant Ainslie's
team, Ruby would automatically
attend today's 8:00 A.M. conference,
but while others were filing in, she
was on the telephone, surrounded by
a file of of ficial papers. Newbold,
walking past, called, "Wind it up,
Ruby. We'll need you in there."

"Yes, sir," she acknowledged, and
moments later she followed him,
adjusting the large gold ear clip
she had removed for the phone call.

Adjoining the general Homicide
office were interview rooms for
witnesses and suspects, a room with
more comfortable couches and chairs
where families of victims were
sometimes received, a large file
room with crime records going back
ten years, and, beyond all of these,
the conference room.

Malcolm Ainslie sat at the
conference room's large, rectangular
table along with two other sergeant
supervisors, Pablo Greene and Hank
Brewmaster, as well as Detectives
Bernard Quinn, Esteban Kralik, Jose
Garcia, and Ruby Bowel

Garcia, born in Cuba, had been a
Miami police officer for twelve
years, including eight as a Homicide
detective. Stocky and balding,
Garcia looked ten years older then
his actual thirty-three, prompting
colleagues to refer to him as Pop.

The Homicide regulars were joined
by the youthful Sheriff-Detective
Benito Montes, who had driven to
Miami from Fort Lauderdale in
response to a phoned invitation from
Bernard Quinn. In the matter of the
Hennenfeld mur

DETECTIVE 109

ders, Montes reported, there had
been no progress since his previous
visit to Miami Homicide.

The others included Dr. Sanchez,
the medical examiner, ID technicians
Julio Verona and Sylvia Walden, and
an assistant state attorney, Curzon
Knowles.

Knowles, who headed the state
attorney's homicide division, had a
formidable reputation as a criminal
trial prosecutor. A soft-spoken,
mild-mannered man who dressed
modestly in off-the-rack suits and
knitted ties, he had once been
compared to an unassuming shoe
clerk. During court trials, while
cross-examining uncooperative
witnesses, he was sometimes
hesitant, conveying an impression of
uncertainty when in fact nothing was
further from the truth. Many such
witnesses, believing they could lie
with impunity while answering this
unimpressive lawyer's questions,
suddenly found they had been coaxed
into a spider's web and had
incriminated themselves before
realizing it.

His disarming manner and
razor-sharp mind were reasons why
Knowles, during fifteen years with
the state attorney's of lice, had
achieved a remarkable eighty-two
percent conviction rate at murder
trials. Homicide detectives were
always grateful to have Curzon
Knowles handling their cases, just
as Newbold and the others were
pleased to see him now.

Major Yanes was also present, as
was a high-ranking assistant chief,
Otero Serrano, emphasizing the
public importance of the new
developments.

Lieutenant Newbold, at the head of
the conference room table, opened
the meeting crisply. "We are all
aware that two of our pending cases
and a third in Fort Lauderdale are
now recognizable as serial double
killings. It's possible we should
have reached this conclusion before
the third one, and we may take some
heat for that as time goes on.

110 Arthur Bailey

But we'll deal with that later.
Right now we have urgent business.

"What I want, here and now, is a
complete review of all three double
murders, leaving absolutely nothing
out. We must find some connection that can
lead us to "

Ruby Bowe raised a hand. Newbold
stopped abruptly, frowning.
"Whatever it is, won't it keep until
I've finished, Ruby?"

Detective Bowe answered, "No, sir.
I don't think so." Her voice was
nervous but controlled. She held a
paper in her hand.

"This had better be good."
Newbold's annoyance was clear.

"You said three double murders,
sir."

"So? You questioning my arithmetic?"

"Not exactly, sir." Ruby raised
the paper in her hand; she glanced
toward the others. "No one is going
to like this, but you'd better make
it four."

"Four! What do you mean?"

It was Ainslie, seated opposite,
who asked quietly, "What have you
found, Ruby?"

She shot him a grateful glance,
then returned to Newbold. "Couple of
days ago, sir, you were worried
about the size of the Tomorrow Pile.
You asked me to work on it."

There were smiles at the reference
to the Tomorrow Pile, Quinn's droll
name for the perpetual inflow and
accumulation of official paper.

Newbold acknowledged, "Yes, I did
ask that. Obviously you've
discovered something."

"I read it just this morning, sir.
A BOLO from Clearwater."

"Let's hear."

DETECTIVE 111

Ruby Bowe's voice cut clearly
through the silence in the room.

"BOLO to all police departments
statewide. Double homicide of
elderly man and woman occurred this
city March twelfth. Exceptional
brutality. Victims tied and gagged.
Stabbed repeatedly and beaten
savagely head and torso areas.
Mutilation involved. Cash believed
stolen amount unknown. Fingerprints
other evidence nonexistent. Unusual
items left at scene by offender or
offenders. If any similar crime or
crimes on record request contact De-
tective N. Abreu, Clearwater Police
Department Homicide with all
possible information."

Across the ensuing quiet, Major
Yanes asked, "That date again,
Detective?"

Bowe consulted her paper. "The
murders were March twelfth, sir. The
BOLO is stamped 'Received March fif-
teenth.' "

There was a collective moan. "Jesus
Christ!" Hank Brewmaster said. "Five
months ago!"

They all knew it could
happen shouldn't happen, but did.
Some things slipped lower in the
Tomorrow Pile and continued to
escape attention. But this was an
all-time disastrous example.

Besides official police
communication, the Florida media
often observed similarities in
serious crimes separated by
distance, and would note a
resemblance and report it; such
connections had proven helpful to
police investigators in the past.
But with so much crime happening
everywhere, some similarities
escaped attention all around.

Newbold covered his face with his
hands, his anguish plain. Everyone
knew the lieutenant would be held
responsible for the communications
breakdown that had resulted in
Homicide's failure to deal promptly
with the Clearwater BOLO.

1 12 Arthur Halley

Yanes said tersely, "For the time
being, I suggest we move on,
Lieutenant." It was obvious there
would be more discussion, probably
in private, later.

"There's a little more, sir," Bowe
offered.

Newbold nodded. "Go on."

"Just before we came in, I phoned
Detective Abreu in Clearwater. I
mentioned that we have similar
cases. He told me he and his
sergeant would like to fly here
tomorrow and bring everything they
have.''

"All right." Newbold had recovered
his composure "Check their arrival
time and send a car to meet them."

"Lieutenant," Ainslie injected.
"I'd like to ask Ruby a question."

"Go ahead."

Ainslie faced Ruby across the
conference table. "Did Abreu mention
anything about the items left at the
Clearwater scene?''