Garrison and Kier walked into the one-bedroom apartment. The room was furnished with a beat-up green couch, a couple of salvage yard end tables and a coffee table constructed of boards and cinder blocks. Scattered pizza boxes on the furniture and floor and several full ashtrays left a lingering stale odor in the room. Down a short hallway, the bedroom had only a mattress and box spring on the floor and a single beat-up nightstand. Discarded clothes covered the floor. The closet had clothes for a man and a woman.
“Any of his clothes missing?”
“Not that I can tell. And that’s his duffle on the closet floor. I’ve been here all day, so if he came by to grab stuff, I’d have seen him.”
“Does he have another place where he crashes?” Criminals were creatures of habit and had favorite hiding spots.
“Like I said, I’m not his mother.” She reached to the nightstand by the mattress and picked up a cigarette and lighter. She lit the tip. “Seems he’s crawled under a rock, but he’ll turn up. People like him always do.” She puffed the cigarette. “What’s he done this time? More breaking and entering?”
“He’s connected to a murder case we’re investigating.”
That had her lowering her cigarette. “Lenny is a lot of things but he isn’t a killer.”
“He may have witnessed something while he visited a home.”
She shook her head. “Just like that dumb-ass to stumble into trouble. He’s got the crappiest luck in the world.”
“Are you sure you don’t know where we can find him?” Malcolm’s annoyance punched through the words. “We have reason to believe he could be in trouble.”
This time she considered the question. “Sometimes he goes out to Leesburg.”
The picturesque small town was located about forty miles west of Alexandria. “Where?”
“A house that belongs to a friend of a friend who travels a lot.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think he could be in trouble?”
“Maybe.”
She shoved out a breath. “He’s not supposed to be in this house, if that’s where he is.”
“I don’t care about that. I just want to talk to him.”
“It’s on the Fifteen Bypass.”
“You have an address?”
“I’ve only been there once. I don’t have the address but I do know it’s on the left side of Fifteen Bypass as you’re heading north and there are huge white boulders marking the driveway. ”
“Thanks.”
“If you find him, is he gonna be in trouble?”
Garrison and Malcolm moved toward the front door. “He’ll be in bigger trouble if we don’t find him.”
Chapter 9
Tuesday, April 4, 8:00 P.M.
Garrison and Malcolm rolled into the station just after eight. Garrison had called Leesburg police and given them a description of the house on Route Fifteen. They asked them to check it out and Leesburg PD had agreed.
But Garrison had a growing sense of urgency that Lenny was in trouble. Too much rode on this deal and Danvers knew Garrison would hunt him down if he ran. Perhaps the thief’s dropped wallet had led the killer to him.
The detectives grabbed sodas and crackers from a vending machine, knowing there’d be no time for a real meal. When they pushed through the doors of the conference room they were met by a tall, willowy brunette, Detective Jennifer Sinclair who stood next to a white presentation board. She’d pinned pictures of the victim on the board as well as Danvers’s DMV photo.
Beside Sinclair stood Detective Douglas Rokov. His height, broad shoulders, bulky frame and dark hair testified to his Russian heritage. His folks had moved to the States from St. Petersburg weeks before his birth. Douglas could speak both Russian and English like a native.
Garrison set his soda on the table and shrugged off his jacket. “What do we have so far?”
“An ID of your victim,” Jennifer said. “Turns out she did have prints in the AFIS system.” The computer system stored hundreds of thousands of prints of those who’d been arrested.
“Her name was Lisa Black and she was arrested for prostitution in a swanky hotel in D.C. three years ago,” Rokov said. “Remember that scandal with Congressman Webber? ”
Garrison rested his hands on his hips, nodding. “He sat on the Defense committee and he was caught using tax dollar money to pay for hookers.”
“The one and only. Well, our victim, Lisa Black, was the prostitute that he was with when he got busted. That’s how she earned her one and only arrest.”
“Only one arrest?” Malcolm said. “Don’t tell me her arrest set her on the straight and narrow?”
Rokov grinned. “Doubtful. She’s from a well-to-do family. Private high school and college. Lots of attorneys.”
Malcolm shook his head, grumbling, “I hate attorneys.”
“But what’s her story? Why was she hooking?” In Garrison’s seven years on the force, he’d seen all kinds of crazy motivations.
“We asked around. Until four years ago, she worked as a marketing director at a very successful engineering firm in Fairfax. Office rumor had it she had a sex addiction. When her stepfather died three years ago, she inherited millions. She quit her job and booked an eight-week vacation to Argentina. When she came back, no one recognized her. She’d had surgery done on her nose, eyes, lips and boobs.”
“After the surgery the few friends she had said her obsessions got worse,” Sinclair interjected.
Rokov checked his notes. “She has an apartment in a high-rise in Crystal City, but we’ve not had a chance to visit it. ”
Garrison checked his watch. “Any word from the medical examiner?”
“The medical examiner had to push back Black’s autopsy. Said if you came by about nine tonight, she’d have a report.”
“Okay.” He took a long gulp of his soda, amazed at how thirsty he’d become. He filled them in about Danvers and the Leesburg police. “Call me if you get word from Leesburg police.”
“Consider it done.”
Garrison glanced at Black’s DMV photo. “Rokov, go over to Eliza Martinez’s house and have another walk around. Forensics still has the house sealed. I’ve been over the house dozens of times but maybe your fresh eyes, plus the details on Lisa Black, will spark something. ”
“What connects the rich-girl nymph to the fifty-something Catholic domestic?”
“Right now, just a gut feeling. ”
Garrison quickly obtained a search warrant for Lisa Black’s apartment; by eight-thirty, Garrison and Kier stood in front of Lisa Black’s door waiting as the building manager unlocked it.
The manager, Ralph Pemberton, a short man, with thinning red hair and thick glasses, reminded Garrison of the goofy troll dolls his sister had as a kid. “I haven’t seen Ms. Black in a few days. Is she all right?”
Garrison smiled. “We just need to have a look at the apartment.”
“She is always so nice to me,” Mr. Pemberton said. “I mean she’s such a lovely woman. She didn’t have to be nice to me. Not everyone is nice.”
Garrison nodded. “I’ve heard good things about Ms. Black.”
“That stuff that happened a few years ago in the city wasn’t her fault.”
“What stuff?” Garrison wanted the manager’s perspective.
“That mess with the senator and his buddies.” “Ah.”
“The lawyers got her off. ”
“Then she must have been innocent,” Malcolm said.
The manager nodded, missing the sarcasm. “That’s what I said.”
“Did she have a lot of visitors in the building? “ Garrison said.
“No. No. She never had any visitors. But she went out almost every evening. She liked people. A pretty girl should be around people.”
“You keep tabs on her?” Malcolm said.
Mr. Pemberton shrugged. “She always looked so pretty. Seeing her always brightened my day. So yeah, I looked from time to time. No crime.”
“No crime at all,” Garrison said light
ly as he stared down at the little man. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”
“You want me to come into the unit? I know every nook and cranny of all the units.”
“No. That won’t be necessary.”
A frown advertised his disappointment. “Right. Sure.”
“When did you see Ms. Black last?”
“Four or five days ago.”
“Which was it? ”