The tabloid hit the captain’s trash can with a shunk that was audible in the bull pen as Heat left the briefing.
Rook stopped by her desk. “Congratulations,” he said. “You broke it. You ID’d Rainbow.”
“Congratulations? Rook, I only ID’d him because he wanted me to. And let’s not forget he’s still out there somewhere and he still wants to kill me. Personally? I’d hold off on the champagne until we catch him.”
Rook said, “On the plus side, you just saved me three hundred bucks on a bottle of Cristal.”
“Maybe to bathe in. I was thinking more along the lines of a magnum of the 2005. That’s going to set you back fifteen hundred.”
“Where does a cop learn about luxuries like that?”
“Hey, I’ve been doing a ride-along, too, you know.”
“Do I ever.” He grinned his dopey grin then noticed on her desk the hard copy of Glen Windsor’s picture from the iPad. “I’ve been thinking about this guy. Perfect job for access, huh? A locksmith-I’ll bet that’s how he really got into your place. That jimmied window was just to throw you off. Plus he installs security systems. Which is probably why none of the surveillance cams were operating anywhere he struck.”
“Yeah, trust me, I’ve been thinking about that, too.”
“It makes perfect sense, in hindsight.”
“Hindsight.” Nikki dropped her head and moaned. “The shoe every detective kicks herself with.”
“Hey, I didn’t see it, either. But then, I’m just a writer boy, not a trained homicide investigator.”
“Ass.” She poked the Coach bag hanging from his shoulder and made it swivel. “Where you headed?”
“Magazine stuff. OK, a lunch about another option offer. I’m trying not to put it in your face.” He reacted to her sniffing the air. “What.”
“Is that pineapple I smell? And chocolate-dipped strawberries? Tell me, Rook, does George Clooney’s fruit basket taste more vibrant than the ones I get from Whole Foods?”
“In fact,” he said, “it not only tastes more vibrant, there’s something about a Clooney kiwi. One bite, and I feel like I can make a difference in this world. And look damn fine doing it.” He flicked his eyebrows at her and left.
Detective Feller swiveled his chair toward her and said, “Glen Windsor update. Traffic Department just located his locksmith truck parked a block from his shop. Forensics is going to scrub it.”
“Good, thanks.” Then, remembering Rainbow’s history, she said, “Randall, run a check for other vehicles registered to him, out of state. Check Connecticut and Rhode Island first.”
“This is your King of All Surveillance Media calling,” said Detective Raley.
Heat smiled into her phone at the sound of his voice. “Is that why I don’t see you at your desk? Are you in your realm?”
“Come hither,” he said and hung up.
Detective Feller snagged her on her way to Raley’s makeshift studio. “You were right. Got a DMV hit from Connecticut on a vehicle still registered there to Glen Windsor.” He handed her the DMV fax. She read it and frowned. “What?” he asked.
“Not sure.” Something about it nagged at her, but with so much on her mind, she couldn’t bring it home. Heat handed the registration back to Feller and told him to get it out with Windsor’s APB.
Nikki entered Raley’s video screening booth, pointed to the cardboard hat propped on his monitor, and said, “If you want to hold on to that Burger King crown I got especially for you, this better be good.”
“It’ll be worth it. I finally got a chance to scan through the surveillance video from the Coney Crest. Man, you see a lot of freaks go through there.” He shivered theatrically, and she laughed. “A couple of things of note. No hits on any of our usual suspects going in, other than Salena Kaye at check-in, and then up and down the stairs a number of times. It’s basically, a lot of this.” He clicked the mouse, and grainy video rolled-a split-screen: overhead of the manager’s office on the right side; on the left, the exterior view of a metal staircase with pebbled steps that led from the second floor to ground level behind the lobby. Soon a pair of legs descended the stairs. When Kaye’s face came into frame at the landing beside the ice machine, Raley paused the video on her. “Got about a bazillion of those shots, including the reverse trips. She comes, she goes-it’s not award material.”
“This the only cam, other than the manager’s office?”
“Yes. And, as you see, the framing isn’t wide enough to show the second floor or the door to two-ten. It’s really set up so the manager can clock comings and goings between hits off his bong.”
“Got it. Thanks, Sean.”
“One more thing. You asked me to surf for Detective Hinesburg to verify that she actually showed up to interview the manager. She did.” He clicked his mouse, and a second monitor awoke, loaded with a new split-screen video file ready to play. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “it’s been a long session, and a gallon of coffee.”
“Roll it, King, I’m good.” Detective Raley double-clicked the icon to start the fresh video, and he hurried out. His task chair wasn’t the most comfortable, but after the morning and night she’d experienced, Nikki melted back into it and lounged as Detective Hinesburg entered the motel lobby and spoke to the manager. The cam position was behind the registration counter with no audio, of course, so Heat had to satisfy herself watching across the back of the manager’s head listening to Hinesburg’s silent talking. What Heat really wanted to see was his face, for any tells when he lied about Salena Kaye’s presence there.
Nikki wondered how Raley endured the tedium. Satisfied her defective detective had actually done as she had been told, Nikki let that video roll, in case the manager ever turned to the camera, and clicked the video on the other monitor to see more of Salena Kaye’s comings and goings throughout her week there. She found the icon that increased the scan rate to maximum, and soon people were zapping up and down those stairs as if they were in a Charlie Chaplin movie. She decided goofiness like this was how Raley dealt with the monotony.
Then something caught Heat’s eye that made her bolt upright in her seat. She scrambled for the mouse to stop the video and watched it again, riveted to every frame.
When Raley came back from the restroom a minute later, she had clicked all the video files closed. All the screens sat dark. “Find what you needed?” he asked.
“And then some.” She stopped at the door and said, “Rales, save all that video, understand? No deleting, it goes nowhere else.”
“Uh… sure. Everything OK?”
“And remember. This was just between us. We never screened this, clear?”
“Sure thing, but-” He never finished his question. She had already moved on.
Heat’s brain raced. She bolted outside just to move her body. She didn’t go anywhere, just paced a manic rectangle on 82nd Street outside the precinct, dodging the sidewalk smokers while she sought fresh air and clear thoughts. What she had just seen on that security video might have only been circumstantial, but for the jury in Nikki’s head, it was enough. But she would need more.
Now Heat had another deadly secret to keep. And, with time running out, she needed to come up with a plan.
Sharon Hinesburg broke her concentration. “Nikki?” She sounded tense. Heat made a slow blink to clear her mind and turned to her in the open lobby doorway. “Phone call. Woman says she’s Salena Kaye.”