The Chill of Night (26 page)

‘What are we talking about here?’ asked Maggie. ‘An expensive divorce? Big alimony payments?’

‘Alimony’s not an issue. Henry makes a good living, huge compared to the likes of us, but the really serious money in the family is all Barbara’s. Some comes from the Milliken side, but a lot more comes from her mother’s family. Ever hear of the Dexters?’

‘As in Dexter Oil?’ asked McCabe. Dexter’s red diamond-shaped logo stared McCabe in the face practically every morning, painted, as it was, on the sides of all those big storage tanks on the South Portland side of the harbor.

‘Yeah, as in. We’re talking big bucks here. Probably hundreds of millions. If Babs ever kicks Henry out of the honeymoon cottage, he won’t see another dime of it. Ever. He might even lose his job. Dexter Oil was Palmer Milliken’s first big corporate client. Established the firm as a major player back in the fifties. And it’s still number one by a wide margin.’

‘You think Barbara could get him dumped?’ asked McCabe.

‘I know she could. Dexter’s still privately held, and Barbara’s the majority shareholder. If she told Henry’s partners they’d lose Dexter as a client if they didn’t make Henry walk the plank, he’s done. Finished. Toast. He’d be lucky to get a job as dog catcher in this town, let alone as an attorney.’

‘Pretty dumb to put all that at risk just to get into Lainie’s pants,’ said Maggie.

‘Also pretty common. If you recall, we had a president not so long ago who couldn’t keep his fly zipped either. Not to mention a gaggle of governors and senators. I’m just wondering what’s in Lainie’s office that’s making Henry so determined to keep you out.’

‘Who knows?’ said Maggie. ‘Phone records. Pictures. E-mails. If proof of the affair exists, Ogden’ll want to find it before we do.’

‘That would suggest Henry’s not the killer,’ said McCabe. ‘If he was, he would have started looking two weeks ago. Right after he nabbed her.’

‘On the other hand, if he only heard about the murder last night,’ said Maggie, ‘he’d want to keep us out until he had a chance to look.’

Maggie was right. Which meant it was probably Ogden who tossed Goff’s apartment last night. Right after he found out she was dead. Maybe he checked out the office, too. Or maybe he didn’t have a master key and couldn’t get in until Monday morning.
There are ways Palmer Milliken could segregate sensitive client material.
All kinds of sensitive material, McCabe decided.

‘Okay,’ Lund said, ‘let’s see if we can discover what it is Henry might be looking for. Write up the affidavit, and we’ll find a judge to issue the order. Of course, if Ogden tries to quash, we could be wrangling about it for a few days anyway.’

They hung up.

‘Get your coat and let’s get some lunch,’ McCabe said to Maggie. ‘We’ll talk while we eat.’

Tallulah’s, halfway up Munjoy Hill, was jammed with the late weekend brunch crowd. As usual Tallulah was guarding the door. She greeted McCabe with her customary hug, squeezing her ample bosom into his chest. ‘How you doing, Mike? Heard there was a murder in town last night. Some lawyer lady.’

‘I’m good, Lou – and yeah, you heard right. In fact, we need a quiet table in the corner where we can talk business.’ He looked around the crowded room. ‘That is, if you can find one.’

She scanned her clipboard and made a few notations. ‘No problem, Sergeant. I’ve got your reservation right here.’ She looked up with a smile. ‘You’re right on time.’

Tallulah led them past a noisy gaggle of thirty-somethings, hanging at the bar, drinking beer and Bloody Marys and waiting for tables. Like they say in the American Express ads, membership has its privileges. She seated them in back, about as far from the action as possible. ‘Can I start you two off with a couple of Bloodys?’

McCabe pondered the question and was about to nod yes, but Maggie beat him to the punch. ‘Not today, Lou. We’re working.’

‘Yeah.’ McCabe sighed. ‘Mag’s right. Just make it a Virgin. And a burger and a chopped salad for me.’

Maggie handed back her menu. ‘Make it two. Medium rare. And an order of onion rings.’

‘I’ll go tell Mandy.’ Tallulah passed on their order to the pretty blonde who was serving drinks two tables away. Mandy was a part-time waitress and a full-time artist and friend of Kyra’s. Like most artists, she couldn’t make a living selling her work, so she waited tables.

‘How come you never get fat?’ asked McCabe. ‘You eat like a twelve-year-old. You don’t exercise. And you still look great.’

Maggie smiled brightly. ‘Just a metabolic powerhouse, I guess.’ She waited till Tallulah was out of earshot before continuing. ‘You know, I didn’t say anything to Burt, but I have some other problems with Ogden as the freak.’

‘Other than his not checking out her office in the two weeks since she was nabbed?’

She nodded. ‘Yeah, other than that. Ogden just doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d leave obscure quotes from the Bible in his victim’s mouth. The Book of Amos? I mean, they don’t teach that kind of stuff at Harvard Law, do they? Plus hauling her body back and forth to Harts Island? Why would he do that? If Ogden was going to kill someone, he’d keep it simple. You know the headline by heart. “Woman assaulted and slain in deserted garage. Assailant flees.” Or maybe assailant doesn’t flee. Maybe he dumps her body in Casco Bay or maybe in the middle of nowhere. Maine’s a big state. Over thirty-five thousand square miles, most of it wilderness. Could’ve been months, years, maybe never before anyone found her.’

McCabe nodded. ‘I agree. I don’t think Ogden’s our guy either. I didn’t tell you, but I paid a visit to Goff’s apartment after we got back from Harts last night.’

Maggie looked at him quizzically. ‘Really? Why? I appreciate your devotion to duty, but couldn’t your visit have waited till morning?’

‘I wanted to see how Goff lived. Anyway, somebody tossed the place between the time you and Jacobi left, which was what?’

‘A little before eleven.’

‘Okay. I got there at roughly 3:30
A.M
. In other words, after Goff’s murder was announced. I’m willing to bet the searcher was Ogden.’

Mandy brought their drinks. ‘Burgers’ll be here in a sec,’ she said. When she was gone, McCabe asked Maggie for a rundown of what transpired at the 10:00
A.M
. detectives’ meeting. ‘Anybody make any progress?’

‘Not much. The canvass went oh-for-four. Nobody saw anything. Nobody heard anything. Nobody knew anything. The only person who showed any interest was Goff’s landlord.’

‘Andrew Barker?’

‘Yeah, and he showed too much. Kept asking questions about the murder like he was getting off on it. Creepy little guy. Wondered if he might not be our pither.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘He snuck into the apartment while I was there, and we had a little chat. Why don’t you tell me the rest of what you have first.’

‘Just a bunch of odds and ends. First thing this morning I ran a ViCAP check to see if I could find any other cases where a female victim had been raped and pithed. Found a couple.’

‘Possible connection?’

‘Only as a copycat. One of the bad guys is dead. The other, who killed at least six women that way, is currently doing life without parole at a supermax in Youngstown, Ohio. I also e-mailed other departments in Maine and New Hampshire plus the RCMP. So far nobody’s reporting anything similar.’

‘Cleary hear back from Verizon?’

‘Yeah. They sent him a rundown on calls to and from Goff’s mobile for the past three months. He’s going over the list now, culling out people we might want to talk to.’

‘Any calls on the twenty-third?’

‘Nothing. If she called anybody that day, she must have used her office phone. Last outgoing was to the Chinese restaurant Brian mentioned on St John Street. That was at 8:37
P.M
., Thursday the twenty-second.’

‘Let me guess. She ordered chicken with pea pods.’

Maggie nodded. ‘Three incoming messages after that. Two from the Bacuba Resort wanting to know what the story was on her not showing up. And one from a friend named Janie in New York, who said, quote, “What we talked about is cool. If you get this message on Aruba, give me a call. If not, no big deal. I’ll see you when you get home.” That was it.’

‘What we talked about is cool?’

‘Yes.’

McCabe tried Archer’s cell. There was no answer. Just her voice asking him to leave a message. ‘Ms. Archer. This is Detective McCabe again. Would you please give me a call as soon as possible? Thank you.’ He clicked his phone off. ‘Goff have a landline?’

‘Didn’t see one in her apartment.’

He hadn’t either. ‘E-mails?’

Maggie shrugged. ‘There was no computer in the apartment, but someone like Lainie must have had a laptop. Could have been with her when she got nabbed. Or it could be sitting in her office downtown.’

‘Or Ogden could have found it and tossed it into Casco Bay. Anything else?’

‘Yeah. I checked with my pal at Vessel Services.’ Maggie opened her notebook and leafed through the pages till she found the right one. ‘Only one boat came in for service Wednesday night. The
Good and Plenty
. It stayed overnight and pulled out at four on Thursday morning. I was able to chat with the captain by satphone. He said he noticed the car sitting there but didn’t see it come in or who was driving it. Nobody on the crew saw anything either.’

McCabe put the celery stick he’d been gnawing on back in his drink. ‘Cleary still working on the ferry crew rosters?’

‘He’s down at the terminal talking to deckhands now. Said he’d have everyone covered by –’ She looked at her watch. ‘Pretty soon now. Also I stopped by at Winter Haven Hospital this morning, and, after forty-five minutes of bullshit over privacy issues, I finally got them to give me the name and contact number for Abby Quinn’s shrink.’

‘Dr Richard Wolfe?’

‘Yeah, how’d you know?’

‘Kelly told me.’

In spite of his deadpan, McCabe’s expression must have given something away. ‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Do you know him or something?’

‘Yes. I know him,’ said McCabe. ‘Wolfe’s a good guy.’

Maggie eyed him suspiciously. Her radar was just too good. ‘Okay, he’s a good guy. Is there something else you’re not telling me?’

‘Like what?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know. Maybe like are you seeing a shrink or something? Maybe like Dr Richard Wolfe, for example?’

Mandy arrived with their burgers. McCabe handed her his empty Virgin Mary glass. Asked for a cold Shipyard Export.

‘No. I’m not seeing a shrink,’ he said after the waitress was gone. He picked up his burger and took a bite.

‘
Were
you seeing a psychiatrist?’

He didn’t respond.

‘Please don’t give me that Clint Eastwood squint, McCabe. I’m your friend. Remember?’

He still didn’t answer.

‘Oh, never mind.’ She sighed. ‘The only other thing going on is Scott Ginsberg at METCO sent over the surveillance videos from Ten Monument Square for both the twenty-second and twenty-third. Also sent his regards. Eddie spent a chunk of this morning going over the videos with Starbucks.

‘They’re still looking, but so far they haven’t seen anything suspicious,’ she said. ‘Videos are from two cameras. One covers the security desk and elevators. The other’s focused on the main entrance. Nobody came into the building after 6:00
P.M
. either day except for the cleaning crew, who arrived all together in a crowd at 6:05 on Thursday and again at 6:08 on Friday. On Friday, Goff left, wearing no coat, at 8:04 and comes back five minutes later holding something in her right hand. Goff leaves again at 9:03, again doesn’t sign out, walks right past the security guard – and he’s right, she did look pissed. She gives him the finger and exits frame. A gray-haired male leaves at 9:12 –’

‘Henry Ogden.’

‘He doesn’t look so happy either, but he shakes the security guard’s hand and hands him a white envelope.’

‘A hundred bucks. It was his Christmas present.’

‘He also doesn’t bother signing out. That’s it for both nights except for the cleaning crew, which left, again together’ – Maggie looked down at her notes – ‘Thursday, or more accurately Friday morning, at exactly 1:00
A.M
. and Saturday morning at 1:04.’ She looked up. ‘They’re going over the videos one more time.’

McCabe had finished what he wanted of both his burger and salad, which was about half of each. He sipped at his Shipyard. ‘How about the GO?’ The GO was the unit’s nickname for Chief Shockley, a.k.a. the Great One.

‘Quiet as a mouse. I haven’t heard boo from him.’

McCabe looked doubtful. ‘That’s out of character.’

‘Yeah. It won’t last. Aside from anything else, his bimbo will need something new for her viewers. That pretty much covers it except for our eight-hundred-pound schizophrenic.’

‘What did you tell the boys about her?’

‘Pretty much everything.’

‘You gave them Quinn’s name?’

‘Yeah. I told them not to give it out unless they had to, and not to tell anyone why we’re looking for her.’

‘Okay,’ said McCabe. ‘My turn, I guess.’ He signaled Mandy and ordered coffee for both of them. He spent the next twenty minutes filling Maggie in on his conversations with Janie Archer last night and Henry Ogden and John Kelly this morning.

‘You think Kelly’s the guy?’

‘I don’t know. Possibly. There are a lot of reasons to think so. His familiarity with Old Testament prophets. His house on Harts. A volatile personality. Plus, he’s got weak alibis for both key nights. One from a pair of unreliable and possibly unfindable street punks. The other from a committed longtime partner. Motive is what bothers me. Tough to see why Kelly would want to kill her.’

‘Sex?’

‘Kelly told me he was gay. In a committed relationship.’

‘He could swing both ways,’ said Maggie.

‘Maybe, but I don’t think so.’

‘There’s money. A hundred and eighty K isn’t exactly chicken feed.’

‘I’m not sure he knew about that. Plus, I think he really cared for Lainie, and he couldn’t have cared less about us searching his house on Harts.’

‘Sure. Because he killed her at Markham’s house. Which means we won’t find a thing at his. Anyway, I’ll call Jacobi and get it organized.’