Terminal 9 (33 page)

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Authors: Patricia H. Rushford

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BOOK: Terminal 9
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“Unless he made a deal with someone. Maybe Jacob. Like, ‘Keep the new will under wraps and I'll cut you in on the profits.' But then why kill the guy?”

“We'll know soon enough,” Mac said. “Kevin is working on subpoenas for Jacob's financial records. I wouldn't be surprised if he was in on his father's death. Someone had to plant the ricin in the insulin, and only a few people had access to Clay's home and medical supplies.”

“Right. What about Kelly? Think she might have been in on it? I'm thinking if Shaw told Jacob, he may have told Kelly too.”

“The thought has crossed my mind. She's almost too clean in this whole mess. We'll have to take another run at her tomorrow. We need to expand our window of opportunity to a week prior to Clay's eventual death in the rail yard. I want the results from our warrant first, then we can see what the lab found out on the ricin supplies in the Northwest. My money's on Shaw or Jacob for Clay's death, but we better not rule out the daughter.”

“Hard to believe a woman would be capable of such acts, don't you think?” Dana said.

“Please,” Mac replied in a sarcastic tone. “Let's not forget the case of the woman who hired a hit on her husband a few months back.”

“Maybe if he'd treated her better, he wouldn't have had anything to worry about.” Dana gave Mac a crooked smile.

“You scare me sometimes.”

She chuckled. “You know I'm kidding.”

“Do I?”

“ MOR N ING, MAC.” Kevin grinned and lifted his coffee cup in salute. His forehead wrinkled as he sipped at the hot drink.

“Morning, partner, how you doing?”

“I'm doing great, although it looks like you could use some more shuteye. What time did you and Dana get in?”

He yawned. It was barely after seven, and Mac definitely could have used a couple more hours of sleep. “A little after two this morning. Ever have those nights where you're so tired you can't sleep?”

“Oh yeah, more than my share. I hate those nights,mulling over leads and the next day's work instead of catching Z's.” Kevin paused. “Is Dana doing okay?”

“Oh yeah, great. If there's ever any shortfall in her training, it will be the trainer. I just hope I'm setting a good example for her. She's a quick learner. I'm really impressed.”

“She'll do great. Dana reminds me of you. Except that she's much smarter and better looking.” The grin came back. “Seriously, Mac, you're a quick learner yourself. You have that natural instinct. Just don't forget to keep yourself grounded and don't lose sight of what's important.”

“You mean, like God?”

Kevin studied Mac's face, probably looking for any hints of sarcasm. He didn't find any. “God is important to me. But only you can make that call. My faith in God is the reason I'm so at peace with this illness. Don't get me wrong; I'm working like heck to get a handle on the cancer. But ultimately it's out of my hands, and I'll accept the outcome—whatever that is. In the meantime, there's prayer.”

Mac nodded. A lump in his throat prevented a response. Even though he wanted more than anything for his partner to get well and get back to work, he hadn't spent much time praying about it. Maybe he should. “Seen anyone else yet this morning?”

Kevin gave him a knowing smile. “Philly was in early. He's helping out a patrol troop with a sex abuse case down in the rest area on I-5. Haven't seen Dana yet, Russ has the day off, and Frank's down at the Public Employee Retirement Systems office on a retirement meeting.”

“So Sergeant Evans is serious about retirement?”

“I think his hand may be forced, Mac. The changes in the PERS actuary tables this summer may have a big impact on his retirement if he doesn't go before June 30. He's getting his monthly estimate this morning, should have a pretty good feel for his decision this afternoon. Frank has nearly thirty years in and could have retired two years ago. I know his wife wants him to. You know how this job can wear on a relationship.”

“Tell me about it. Still, I can't imagine the back room without Frank Evans.”

“Me either. Frank's a legend. Been a supervisor here since I transferred to the back room.”

“Who do you think will put in for the job?” Mac asked.

“We'll have to wait and see. Let's not put the cart in front of the horse.” Kevin looked past Mac. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Good morning yourself,” Dana greeted. “You too, Mac.”

He turned around to face her. “You're far too chipper in the morning.”

“Had a good run this morning, wakes you right up.”

“Right, like I'm falling for that again.”

“No, really.” Her dimples deepened. “I did run this morning.”

Her cheeks did look rosier than usual. Mac thought about his three or four taps on the snooze button this morning, and considering coming in late if not for the important tasks that the day held.

“Where do you get your energy?” Mac asked.

She chuckled. “From the triple-shot latte I drank on my way in.”

“So you really didn't run?”

“No.” She sighed. “Wishful thinking. But I'm getting there. I jogged in place for about five minutes trying to decide what to wear.”

She'd made a good choice. It looked like a new outfit—a burgundy and gray pantsuit with a classic pink shirt. Mac thought about complimenting her but thought it better to keep his mouth shut around others in the department.

“Great job yesterday, you two.” Kevin moved into his office and gestured to Mac and Dana to sit down. “The lieutenant was bragging about both of you last night before I went home.”

“Really?” Dana beamed. “What did he say?”

Kevin chuckled. “Well, not too much actually. You know the lieutenant. He's not much of a conversationalist, but he was definitely impressed. I understand you two are pecking out a warrant and hitting the car on a search?”

“Yeah,” Mac answered. “We should be searching the car by noon. Hopefully we'll get some prints from Jacob Mullins to corroborate the story Tyler Cohen gave us. I'd really like to find some hard evidence. Shaw is already spouting off about Tyler lying. A kid strung out on dope isn't going to stand much chance against a seasoned lawyer. Still, he'll have a hard time worming his way out of last night's scam.”

“We'll get him,” Kevin said. “I'll get to work on those financial records for Jacob Mullins today, see if we can dig up a paper trail on him. I told you about Carl finding that deleted will for Clay Mullins, didn't I?”

“You sure did. I bet it will match the hard copy we got out of the safe-deposit box.”

“Strange, though,” Kevin mused. “The only reason I can see Shaw deleting that file is if he'd make more money by reverting back to the will that left everything to Clay's kids.”

“We were talking about that last night.” Dana folded her arms and leaned back. “There had to be something in it for Shaw. We're talking big bucks. A guy like that wouldn't commit murder and arson for peanuts.”

“Which means Jacob and/or Kelly were probably in on it,” Mac commented.

“Well,” Kevin said, “there's your motive for the murder of Clay Mullins. Now all you need to prove is opportunity and intent.”

“That's the real challenge.” Dana sighed. “Shaw's not talking, and we have to somehow find out how he or his accomplice accessed refined ricin and had the opportunity to get the poison into Clay's insulin.”

“And figure out why they'd use ricin,” Mac added. “It's not exactly a household item.”

“Looks like you two have your work cut out for you.” Kevin took another sip of his coffee. “It's almost fun watching this one from the sidelines. Do I look as bad as you two when I've been up all night?”

“Worse,” Mac said as he stood up slowly and rubbed his lower back. “And you never complain, which is even more unattractive.” He glanced at Dana. “You feel like doing some typing, partner?”

“You buying my coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I'm typing.” Dana pulled on Mac's shoulder-holster strap as he walked past her. “Wake up, you old grump—no sleeping on the job.”

“Right. Like this job allows sleep.”

“Better get me another triple. And a scone to go with it,” Dana called after him.

“You got it.” Mac chuckled as he headed out the door. Working with Dana was getting easier by the minute.

TWENTY-
NINE

D
ANA TYPED AN ADDENDLM to the original search warrant affidavit in less than an hour, adding the information Tyler had provided and the observations they had made the previous night with Addison Shaw. A Columbia County judge signed the second warrant, authorizing the search and forensic analysis of Shaw's Lexus.

Dana phoned Allison at the Portland crime lab, requesting a scientist assist with the search of the car. Allison agreed to render the forensics aid personally, meeting the detectives at the Portland office around 12:30 p.m.

The Lexus was secured within an indoor garage with yellow crime-scene tape wrapped around the vehicle to keep out the curious types who might wander inside the bay. This included the uniformed patrol troopers who would naturally want to take a look inside a homicide suspect's car. Mac didn't want any extra fingerprints or nose smudges on the windows for elimination.

Mac and Dana were photographing the car when Allison arrived at the bay, backing her blue Ford F-250 up to the suspect's car. “Hey gang, how goes it?”

“Good. We're making a little headway. Thanks for coming out.” Mac shook the criminalist's hand.

“Glad you could make it.” Dana waved from the front of the car, snapping a few more photos.

“This guy in custody for our ricin victim?”

“Not yet.” Mac answered. “We think he's the one who whacked Clay's son and set the house on fire. Our bad guy is Clay Mullins's attorney, by the way. We set up a meet last night after an eyewitness to the arson made a pretext phone call. Our guy shows up with a gun in his waistband instead of the hush money. The SWAT team nails the bad guy's car as he's making a run for it.”

“Ah, that would explain the flat tires and the gunshot holes in the hood. SWAT must have livened things up a bit.”

Mac whistled. “You aren't kidding.”

“You should have seen the look on Shaw's face,” Dana added.

“He was freaked out.”

Allison walked around the car, taking a look at her project before selecting a starting point. “You have the signed warrant?”

“Right here.” Mac reached into his inner jacket pocket and held it up for her to see.

“Good. I think we'll do some vacuuming first. I assume you want prints?”

“You bet. We're hoping to place Jacob Mullins in the passenger area of the car to corroborate our informant's story.”

“After I vacuum I'll see if I can lift some latents with powder, then we'll fume the car if that doesn't work. Hope this guy doesn't mind having his car super-glued for prints.”

“If our case works out,” Mac told her, “he'll never be behind the wheel of this car again.” He took off his sports coat and laid it on the backseat.

After applying latex gloves, Mac retrieved Shaw's briefcase from the passenger seat of the car. The case was empty, indicating that Shaw had planned to kill Tyler, not pay him off. No surprise there.

While Mac bagged and tagged Shaw's briefcase for later examination, Allison pulled the large rolling tray from the back of her truck bed, grabbing a bin with the words FABRIC VAC stenciled on the side in black paint. She lifted out a small vacuum that looked like the type used to clean stairs or other small spaces. This particular vacuum was specialized for forensic examination, equipped with a plastic cartridge to catch any hairs or fibers removed by the vacuum. Allison placed a new cartridge on the vacuum and went to work on the car's fabric seats and floorboards.

Fifteen minutes later,Allison removed the cartridge and secured it in an evidence bag. “You guys have hair samples from the victim, or was it consumed in the fire?”

“We have them at the medical examiner's office,” Dana answered. “Jacob was partially protected by a piece of the ceiling that fell on him; some old asbestos insulation served as a fire barrier.”

“Good. I'll send for the sample so we can compare the head hairs to my sweepings. Without follicle samples I won't be able to trace DNA, but I can match hairs with a reasonable certainty. I just won't be able to match the conclusive one in five billion number we like.”

“Hair fibers would be great, but a latent would make my day.” Mac looked at the evidence cartridge through the clear plastic bag.

“I'll do my best, guys. We're thinking right front passenger seat, correct?”

“That's right, at least that's where our witnesses put him the night of the fire.”

Allison produced some print powder and went to work on the car's outer door assembly, then worked her way around the car from one quarter panel to the next. Printing the outside of the car yielded fourteen clean latents, each collected on plastic fingerprint tape before securing the evidence on a white print card.

“I want to remove the door handles on the passenger side, both inside and out so I can dust the inner handle.”

This was no easy task. Removing a door handle from a modern car was next to impossible without touching the handle itself. It took several calls to the local Lexus dealership to complete the task without damaging possible evidence.

“Did you get my voicemail on the ricin, Mac?” Allison asked as he was removing one of the final components in the door assembly.

“No, no I didn't. I checked my messages around 7:30 this morning but haven't since. What did you learn?”

“With the help of a tech at the Center for Disease Control I was able to say beyond a doubt those skin samples you provided had concentrated amounts of ricin near the injection point. The ricin was examined by the CDC tech, and we have an expert opinion that the poison in Clay's system was of an extremely high quality. The tech was of the opinion the ricin in the insulin vile, although cloudy and dull in appearance, was of medical or military grade.”

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