‘Did you get anything back on the water cooler cups?’
‘Just got it yesterday and that’s part of why I’m here. One paper cup discarded near the water cooler had DNA that didn’t match Khan, Drury, or any of the victims.’
‘Did we test the paramedics?’
‘You know, we got swabs but good point, I didn’t see their names on the excluded. I’ll check that.’
A thirsty paramedic may have gotten a drink of water before leaving with the fourth victim. Raveneau doubted that, but it needed to be checked. A cardboard box for empties sat alongside the water cooler. It was full and three or four of the empties had fallen out and were on the floor. Having nothing they had to check everything and the white paper cups, particularly those on top were gathered up. Khan told them there were no visitors the morning of the shooting so Raveneau figured the cups on top were most likely the victims’, Khan’s, or Drury’s.
‘In the hits Mathis is suspected of was a gun ever used?’ Raveneau asked.
‘The Feds say yes, so it could be he came through the cabinet shop and they hired him to take out Khan and his wife as well. You’re the one who guessed the shooter took some pleasure in the killing. That fits with Mathis. What do you think?’
‘He’s big. How did he get in the building?’
Ortega had an answer for that. He’d been thinking about it.
‘Whoever the shooter was, Khan let them in early in the morning before the employees arrived. The shooter hid where no one would look and that’s how the tight window worked. He knew when Khan was leaving to measure the kitchen job and about the delivery and to listen for the forklift.’
‘Where do you hide a six foot four man in the shop?’
‘In that locked closet near Khan’s office. Khan locked him in there and then unlocked the door before he left. The employees knew they weren’t supposed to ever get in that cabinet. Khan told us that on the first interview. I think Mathis sat on the floor of the closet for five or six hours. But think about it, Ben. I want your opinion. I’ll check with you later.’
FORTY-FIVE
Raveneau rode with Goya in Goya’s old gray Toyota. They drove past Marlin Thames’s blue-painted Victorian on Twenty-Second Street, and then to a cafe in the Noe Valley where they took the lone outdoor table. Inside it was steamy and warm. Outside, the sun was out though probably just for a short while. The street was still wet from the last shower. A strong gust shook droplets from the awning, but it was going to be a lot easier to talk out here than in the crowded steamy interior. Raveneau went back in to get the sandwiches and coffee.
When he returned Goya was sitting at the table looking like a bespectacled Don Quixote and if Goya was having second thoughts about what he was accomplishing, so was Raveneau. But he still felt Goya’s presence mattered and Becker figured out a way to pay him something. He had to sign about a dozen waivers first.
‘I met Thames,’ Raveneau said. ‘Anyone would like him. The real estate deal was thirty some years ago and he settled with the IRS during one of their amnesty deals. He made a mistake and paid for it. He’s got his vintage furniture business and a life he likes and I’m sure it’s all legit, but in Hawaii Thomas Casey told me that Thames was there with Krueger in 1989. Thames told me they broke up in 1986 and saw little of each other after that. That’s too big a gap to be accidental. If Casey is telling the truth then there’s a good chance Thames is lying to us.’
‘Or maybe he’s just mixing up the years.’
‘He sounded confident about his dates.’
Goya shrugged. He was still spooked about his old partner’s memory loss and underlying that was some worry about his own. Raveneau recounted Casey’s story of the visit by Krueger and Thames.
‘He told me that was the last time he saw Krueger alive. According to him that was in October 1988 and he sure sounded like he had his dates right.’
‘Well, I don’t like this Thames. I think he lied to you. When he was Howard Wright he cheated elderly people out of their last years.’
Raveneau nodded. He and Goya had already been over the real estate fraud several times and there wasn’t anywhere new to go with it today. He wanted to nudge Goya off it.
‘I know, the old people are your people, and he sold them land with alligators on it so you’re out for vengeance, but focus on where he lived with Alan Krueger. We want to know where Krueger stayed when he traveled through San Francisco in ’89. See if you can figure that out.’
‘I’m trying.’
Raveneau took a bite of the sandwich. It was on a baguette and not loaded up with fifty different things. He liked that. Celeste was toying with the idea of small sandwiches at night and discounting them after nine o’clock to draw people in. He ate and as Goya talked about losing his edge Raveneau began to understand that Henry didn’t want to go forward. He didn’t see himself as being of any value as an investigator, but neither did he want this to end in failure so they left it that he would try to locate the Secret Service agent who ruined Krueger’s career. Then they would meet and work out the next step.
When Raveneau got back to the Hall of Justice the Homicide office was emptying out and in the Cold Case Unit he’d missed a redtail hawk that landed on the window sill and stayed for several hours. Ryan Candel was waiting for him.
‘Have you been waiting long?’
‘Not that long.’
They moved into the kitchen. He got Candel a soda and they sat at the table.
‘I connected with Matt on Facebook. We’re going to meet up. He’s over here with his coffee business pretty regular.’
‘How regular?’
‘Every month or so. He posted some photos for me. I thought you might want to see them. That’s why I came by.’
‘OK, let’s go back to my computer.’
There were more beach shots. There were shots of his brother as a teenager swimming with turtles and then many the younger Frank took of his dad and his dad’s friends. This is where it got interesting.
‘One of his interests is photography,’ Candel said. ‘See, he lists it.’
Another one is guns, Raveneau thought, but that wasn’t listed. Candel turned to him.
‘You’re not on Facebook, right?’
‘Me, no.’
‘Your partner is. I saw her name.’
‘Why don’t you friend her?’
‘Wouldn’t matter, she still wouldn’t be able to view these photos. They’re limited to me. I asked for any with our dad and everything about Hawaii. There are a couple hundred photos and I’m cool if you just want to take your time. I’ve got to make some calls on a music gig.’
Raveneau heard him talking but focused on the photos and didn’t register any words. The photos were old enough for Matt Frank to have been under ten years old taking these. They probably thought he was cute with his camera. He took a lot of facial shots which was lucky. There must have been more than fifty of Jim Frank in various moods. Most of those were solo shots, but others had people in them. When he saw Shay and Shay looked like he was young and in his twenties, Raveneau leaned back in his chair thinking about it.
He heard Candel on the phone talking in a cool affected voice, a young man still finding himself. He looked back at the computer monitor. Did Matt Frank feed them to Candel knowing that Candel was going to bring them here? Of course, he did.
A half dozen of the photos were of Captain Jim Frank with an arm around Matt Frank. Raveneau saw in the boy’s face how much it meant to him to have his dad drape an arm around him. He wondered if he felt that way any more. Several photos were of the memorial with the stacked lava stone and one there with a young woman. It struck him from the way she touched the lava memorial that she had arranged the lava in its sculpture. He realized she must be the half Japanese, half Hawaiian artist Casey talked about. He clicked to the next and she was looking out toward the ocean with tears reflecting in sunlight on her cheeks.