One Through the Heart (10 page)

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Authors: Kirk Russell

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: One Through the Heart
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‘What if we got rid of all government agencies with policies? I had to leave my driver’s license with your guard when I got here. He said it was policy. That’s all the explanation he gave me. It’s policy. What good do these policies that the rest of us are paying for achieve?’

‘Lisa, will you allow that it’s a complicated world and we’re fighting a war on terror and need to protect our offices.’

‘If you ask me, what you’re trying to protect are your jobs and the right to retire when you’re in your fifties. Then you have pensions at eighty or ninety percent and you go find some sweet new job to sugar coat it. The rest of us don’t get that.’

‘We make some sacrifices along the way and we put our lives at risk.’

‘Then why aren’t more of you killed?’ Berge stared across the table then said, ‘I didn’t lie to Inspector Raveneau, but I didn’t tell him the truth. I listened to the recording on the answering machine and took out the tape and flushed it down a toilet.’

‘What was the message?’

‘I couldn’t make any sense of it. It was about something happening in San Francisco due to an expansion. It didn’t make any sense.’

‘Did you write anything down before you destroyed the tape?’

‘No, the inspector already knew what was on it.’

‘How many times did you listen to it?’

‘Once.’

‘Just once.’

‘Yes.’

‘And yet you’re saying you didn’t understand what was being said in the message?’

‘Yes.’

‘When you didn’t understand what was said, did you consider replaying it?’

‘No. I had heard enough.’

‘What was the voice like?’

‘It was a man with a deep voice.’

‘How old would you say he was? Give me a range.’

Berge thought it over and then said, ‘Thirty to forty.’

Raveneau, who was sitting next to Mark Coe, said, ‘That’s what I heard too, but it wasn’t Brandon Lindsley. It might have been this Attis Martin. The quality wasn’t good and some effort went into disguising the voice. Sounds to me like she’s been coached to say she didn’t understand what she heard.’

Raveneau abruptly stopped talking as Fry asked the next question.

‘And you only listened to it once?’

Berge nodded.

Fry said, ‘I need you to answer.’

‘I was the only one.’

‘You were in a hurry. The homicide inspectors were on their way and you needed to deal with it.’

‘People make threats all the time. It doesn’t mean anything is going to happen.’

‘And it’s not good for a property to get known as a place where someone the police arrested was living.’

‘He wasn’t living there. No one was living there. I don’t think anyone ever used that apartment in the year they had it leased. We have inspections every six months and required cleaning. As far as we know, no one has ever stayed there.’

‘Did you tell the homicide inspectors that?’

‘I told them everything, but they’re not very bright. Especially him.’

Coe chuckled.

‘Did the client always pay on time?’ Fry asked.

‘Yes, and you have the records.’

‘I have to say, Lisa, you have a lot to manage. My husband and I bought a duplex and we live in one of the units. The other is rented and just that one is a job. I can understand how you have to make some quick decisions. Is that what happened? You made a management decision?’

‘I would call it that, but I can’t tell if you’re being sincere or patronizing me.’

‘Tell us again what you remember about the recording, and this is important because you and Inspector Raveneau are the only people who have heard it.’

‘I think I’ve already told you.’

‘Would it make a difference if I said the FBI believes this threat is real?’

‘What happens if I remember more?’

Coe chuckled again. He punched Raveneau on the shoulder.

‘That would only help, Lisa,’ Fry said, ‘and there’s no risk to you here. We appreciate you coming forward and coming in on a Sunday. The truth is we depend on people like you and always have.’

‘He said if you borrow money you owe it and that if you kill people it’s the same thing, you owe for it. And the last part, which I didn’t really understand, the western expansion you were talking about. I didn’t understand what he meant. My family has been here forever. We were pioneers and there are others like us, so I have no idea what he was talking about.’

‘After Inspector Raveneau called you, what did you do?’

‘I drove straight over there.’

Raveneau nodded. He believed that.

‘Was that because you were worried?’

‘Yes, I was worried, of course I was worried. I didn’t really know what to expect. We had another situation once where the police didn’t tell the truth about why they wanted to get in.’

‘So you were thinking about that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you remove the tape as soon as you heard the recording?’

‘Yes.’

‘You said you flushed it down a toilet. Was it in that unit?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you touch the iPhone holder?’

‘No, I didn’t. I took a book but the inspector didn’t ask about a book so I haven’t said anything about it. I asked my lawyer and he said I was within my rights as long as the tenant was notified of eviction and the book was returned later.’

‘Where is the book now?’

‘It’s in a bag in my car.’ She added, ‘In the trunk.’

‘How much have you handled it?’

‘Not very much. I opened it up and looked at it.’

‘Why don’t we go get the book together and then come back up?’

‘Will I get my driver’s license back when I go out?’

‘I’ll make sure you do.’

She was parked in a garage and it took twenty minutes before they were back. The book was in a plastic department store shopping bag and was moved into a clear plastic evidence bag and brought back up to the interview room. Raveneau and Coe read the title through the plastic: ‘
Retribution and Redemption: The Probable Use of Nuclear Weapons In the 21st Century
.’

‘Has anyone other than you touched it?’ Fry asked, and her voice was much quieter, almost soft as she studied the title and held it so the video feed would capture the cover.

‘No.’

‘Has it been in your trunk in this shopping bag the whole time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you talked to anyone else about it?’

‘No one.’

‘Did you remove anything else from the apartment?’

‘You already asked that.’

‘I’m asking again.’

‘I didn’t take anything else.’

‘Have you had any more contact from the renter?’

‘No.’

Raveneau saw that Lisa Berge was completely unfazed by the book’s title. All that mattered to her was her world. He turned to Coe. ‘No one saw her coming. That book was meant to be found and that’s the one pattern we’re seeing. They want to engage. They must think we have it and it explains something about the meeting I had with Brandon Lindsley and the threesome at Grate’s Place.’

‘You’re locked in on these guys without much to go on.’

‘That’s true, but they’re the ones engaging us. It’s too much to ignore.’

Neither said anything for a moment, and then Coe said, ‘Ben, you know we’re going to have to get involved now in a bigger way.’

‘Well, let’s talk it through after you’ve met with your ASAC. Call me and I won’t be at Homicide. I’ve got to go see someone in Marin.’

EIGHTEEN

M
arion reached for her cane and rose slowly as the doorbell rang. Though she knew the homicide inspector meant well, she was burdened by this visit and it was difficult to smile as she opened the door.

‘Come on into the kitchen, Inspector. I’ve made tea. I can make you coffee.’

‘Marion, thank you, tea is fine but I don’t need anything other than to talk with you. I need your help.’ Raveneau brought out the photos before sitting. He asked, ‘Have you ever heard the name Brandon Lindsley?’

‘No.’

‘He was a grad student at the same time as Ann, though he was younger. She may have mentioned his name at some point.’

‘I don’t recognize it.’

She watched her hand tremble as she lifted the saucer and teacup and brought it to him. What were these photos about? What mattered was confronting Albert Lash, and though she was angry that that wasn’t what he was here about, she was also fearful. Some part of her inside felt as if it was dissolving.

‘I’m going to show you six photos because he may have used a different name with you.’

He spread them out on her kitchen table, all of the faces younger men, and one she knew well. She touched it. ‘He’s a friend.’

‘How long have you known him?’

‘For years.’

‘That’s Brandon Lindsley, that’s who I was asking about.’

‘That’s not the name I know him by. He’s writing a book and he knew Ann and I’ve known him so long I didn’t mention him when you asked last time about people who admired her.’

‘What name does he use?’

‘His name is Alan Siles. He lives in Mill Valley. Once a month we meet at a restaurant there or I cook here.’

She heard herself and it sounded as if she was defending Alan yet she also saw the truth the inspector was showing her. She saw in the inspector’s face that Alan had deceived her, yet she’d had more fun with Alan than with any other person in the past few years. He seemed to care so genuinely about Ann and was so interested in her memories of Pine Ridge and relatives who were on the reservation. She had helped him with his book and she looked forward to their meetings and to their dinners at the restaurant. Alan was her friend, maybe her best friend. They emailed each other regularly. These truths flitted through her head in rapid succession and they fell away and she felt short of breath.

She stared at his photo. It was almost inconceivable that Alan wasn’t who he said he was and she hadn’t really even considered him when the inspector asked her before. She had so little respect for the police. This one who felt guilty was sincere but what chance was he going to have after all this time? They failed with Lash when they had their chance and she had dismissed the idea that Inspector Raveneau could ever be right and now she had to accept that she was wrong. I’ve failed Ann in every way, she thought.

‘I’m coming home, Mom,’ Ann had said.

‘No, you’re not; you’re staying where you are. You have a sickness and cowardice about beating it. You need to find strength.’

‘I’m coming home.’

‘This is not your home anymore.’

She felt Raveneau’s hand on her shoulder.

‘Marion?’

She nodded. She looked out at him as though through a tunnel.

‘I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with him, but we’re looking at him. Has he ever brought anyone with him?’

‘He did once but only once and I don’t know the name of that man.’

‘I have another photo to show you, but it’s on my phone.’

She watched him fumble with his phone. The police were stupid. They were stupid everywhere. It was Albert Lash who killed Ann and what they found in this bomb shelter was going to prove that. She had to remember that but felt so shocked right now.

‘This is a friend of Brandon Lindsley. Do you recognize him?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then tell me what you can about Brandon. I’d like to know what he has said to you about Ann’s murder. What does he think about all the mistakes the police made?’

She wasn’t going to answer that. Did she need to? They had talked about everything and often about Professor Lash and she wasn’t going to tell the inspector what they said about the San Francisco Police.

‘We’ve talked about what you would expect.’

‘Does he agree that Lash killed her?’

‘It was always obvious he killed her.’

‘Does he agree?’

‘Yes.’

‘Marion, stay with me. I’m not saying he doesn’t or that he’s wrong. But I know his name isn’t Alan Siles and that he lied to you about that.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘He pays his taxes as Brandon Lindsley. He has a driver’s license in that name and this afternoon we found where he moved here from. He grew up in a suburb outside of Chicago. We have other reasons for wanting to learn more about him and I’m asking for your help. Have you talked with him about the night Ann disappeared? Has he questioned you at all about that night?’

She nodded.

‘Have you talked with him about it?’

‘I have.’

‘I have some ideas about that night I want to run by you and this won’t be easy to hear, but maybe these are some of the things you’ve talked about. Ann left the cottage and may have been walking to her car when she was abducted, or she may have been in the back garden still.’

‘She went to Professor Lash’s house and knocked on the door and he let her in.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I told her she couldn’t come home.’

‘Did she say she would knock on his door?’

‘No.’

‘How do you know she did?’

‘I know because I told her she couldn’t come home.’

With that something broke loose inside her. She looked at him and then stared again at the photo of Alan. Was that really not his name? She told everything to Alan and now he wasn’t who he said he was? She couldn’t understand anyone doing that and it devastated her. She tried to answer now and couldn’t and the inspector sat in silence and waited. When she spoke her voice broke and the words did not sound as if they came from her.

‘Yes, she was coming home. I told her no but she said she was coming anyway. My sweet beautiful daughter was scared and wanted to come home and I said no. I thought it was all in her head, same as I told you last time. I wouldn’t let her come home. I told her she had to stay to get stronger, to solve her problems not run from them and not let her imagination affect her so much. If she had come home in the earlier part of the night, she might never have gone back. She would be alive right now.’

Her body was wracked with sobs as she bowed her head. It took her several minutes to stop, and she wiped her eyes and her face and it was the inspector who spoke.

‘She must have loved you just as much to want to come home.’

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