“Oh.”
“And especially since the doctors here say that you were treated more than an hour before you were found, we’ll have to establish exactly where the attack on you took place. You see what I mean? Without physical evidence of your presence, it could be claimed you weren’t there at all. And let me tell you,” Harriman said, watching him steadily, “that would be awkward.”
Deflect. “Will the crime lab need to take a DNA sample from me?”
“It’s a painless process, but come to think of it-I can’t speak for the investigators on your case, but I imagine we’ll just get DNA off your bloody clothing. That was all taken to the lab while you were in the ER.”
“Oh,” Quinn said again, then forced himself to sound nonchalant as he added, “that makes it easy, then.”
“Yes, it does,” Harriman agreed. “Anyway, all that washing things down outside your buildings makes me wonder about the shooter and his plans.”
“Of course. By the way, is this your case? I thought…”
Harriman didn’t smile, yet again Quinn sensed he was amused. Amused? How could that be?
“No,” the detective said. “I’m pursuing something else. We’re just trying to figure out if a couple of our cases may be related. Speaking of relatives, strange thing…”
Quinn waited.
“You remember Cade Morrissey?”
“Of course. His body was found in one of my buildings. As was his mother’s. That horrified me. That’s exactly why I wanted to ensure there was better security. That’s also why I wanted to check on the place. Security can grow lax over time. I’ll admit I was just protecting my property when I stopped by last night. I really didn’t think the killer was likely to come back to use the buildings after you discovered the bodies there. Do you think I was wrong?”
Harriman studied him for a moment, then said, “I doubt very much that the killer or killers of Marilyn Foster and Cade Morrissey attacked you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“How can you be so sure?” Quinn asked, hoping he had infused the right amount of panic into his voice. It helped to know that Harriman was at least half wrong.
“You’re alive.”
Quinn knew he was on dangerous ground. Better take another tack. “You asked me about Cade Morrissey.”
“Yes. Had you ever met him when he was alive?”
“The detectives asked me that when his body was found. No, I didn’t know him. At least, not that I recall.”
“He was Nicholas Parrish’s son.”
“Nicholas Parrish? The serial killer? You’re not serious!”
“I am as serious as can be. Lab was backed up, so it took a while to get the DNA results or we would have known sooner.”
“That’s-that’s so strange. That the son of a serial killer would end up being murdered, I mean.”
“It is. But it gets stranger yet. Got some other results just this morning. This time, given that it was so high-profile, the lab put a rush on it for us. Turns out Kai Loudon is Parrish’s son, too.”
Quinn did his best to look blank, then said, “The one with the backyard burials. Right?”
“Yes. Former burial sites-no question about that. We haven’t found entire bodies yet, but we don’t have a lot of doubt about what went on there. My wife was one of the reporters who broke that case, by the way. But you probably knew that.”
Careful, Quinn thought. “Irene Kelly. Who doesn’t know about her?”
Harriman said nothing for a moment, letting the silence stretch, then said, “Irene connected the dots early on. Some people dismissed her ideas, thought she might be a little rattled about Parrish’s escape. But she was absolutely right. There is a connection between Nick Parrish’s escape and the victim left in the trunk of a car parked near our home. Because of the artwork on the bodies and other factors, we didn’t need anyone to point out connections between that victim and the murders of Marilyn Foster and Cade Morrissey. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
“No, I have to admit I don’t.”
“Well, here’s the thing. No one was expecting to find out Loudon had buried people in his backyard, or that he was Parrish’s son.”
“You’re sure that he is related to Parrish?”
“Yes. We have Parrish’s DNA on file, of course, and you really can’t live in a place as long as Loudon did and not leave your DNA behind. So even though Loudon had no criminal record as an adult, we got a familial match.”
“Wow. Imagine that.”
“Imagine. Of the two children we know about, one helped him escape, and the other ended up dead in one of your buildings.”
Harriman paced a few steps, then turned back to Quinn and said, “Cade Morrissey had drawings of moths on him, and similar drawings were found not only on Cade’s mother’s body but also on Lisa King, the third victim-she was probably the first of the three to be killed, actually. And it seems likely that one of the last people to see Lisa King alive was Kai Loudon.”
“So you’ve solved three murders and identified one of the people who helped Parrish escape,” Quinn said.
“No, I’m not so sure we have.”
“Why not?”
“The artwork on three of those victims? It’s just not likely that it could have survived if those victims had been buried. We think the person who used your property was someone who was careful and very clean and neat. He went to a lot of trouble to preserve his artwork, yet there aren’t bloodstains on the walls inside the building or any other sign that those three victims were killed there.
“So even though there’s a genetic connection between Loudon and one of those victims, it seems strange to us that Loudon would have this one M.O. of butchering people in his basement and burying them without so much as a plastic sheet wrapped around them, and then a separate operation going on in one of your buildings, with an entirely different M.O. You see what I mean?”
“I suppose so…”
“Plus, we’re doing a lot of research into Loudon, and so far we haven’t come up with anything like art training in his background. His former teachers say he was terrible at it. More of a computer and electronics guy. And our experts agree that the work done on the bodies in your buildings was not amateurish. Someone who really knew what he was doing drew those moths.”
“Is all of this questioning going on because I once considered pursuing an art degree?” Quinn asked. “Perhaps I should contact my attorney.”
“You can always do that, of course. But what makes you think you’re about to be placed under arrest?”
“Victims in my buildings? Artwork?”
“No, I’d never proceed on anything as flimsy as a coincidence like that. As you’ve pointed out, you’re a victim. In fact, you were nearly killed on the same night my wife disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“She was kidnapped.”
Quinn frowned and summoned all of his ability to put sincerity into his voice. “Detective Harriman, I’m so sorry to hear that. Sorry and shocked. How did it happen?”
“I can’t really discuss it. Some details will be on the news today.” He glanced at the television behind him, mounted high on the wall. “Want me to see if I can find something about it now?”
“No, no thank you-if you don’t mind. This is all very upsetting. As I’m sure it is for you.”
“Absolutely. Anyway, it just makes us wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“How many sons Parrish has. And if there might be connections.” Harriman smiled, but there was no amusement in it. “I’ll let you get your rest. Thanks for talking to me.”
“I don’t know that I did you much good. But please let me know if I can be of help.”
“Oh, I will,” Harriman said.