Noah’s brows lifted. “We thought Albert and Eric were a couple.”
“They were. But Albert has a key and when Eric was away… Albert was a man who saw opportunity knocking. Maybe Eric found out Al was cheating on him.”
“Did he ever cheat with Mary?” Olivia asked and the super frowned.
“Don’t know that name. But if she was pretty and had money, I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“What does Albert look like?” Noah asked.
“Big guy. Hockey player at the university. Helluva checker, but no finesse with the stick.” He pointed to a photo in which Eric stood arm in arm with a tall, dark, good-looking guy with very broad shoulders. “He looks exactly like that. That’s him.”
Perfect, she thought with satisfaction. “Sir, we’re going to need to get the ME and crime lab up here. Can you wait for us outside? And please, don’t talk to the press.”
“Nah. I got no patience for those people.” He backed away with a sigh. “At least the rent was paid for next month. It’ll take that long to get rid of the smell.”
Noah walked him out while Olivia called for the ME and CSU. Then she crouched next to the bed and, on a hunch, shone her flashlight on Eric’s pelvic region.
“Everything still there?” Noah asked dryly when he came back in.
She looked up. “Little knot of dried blood, right where Joel was injected.”
Noah’s brows went up in surprise. “Sonofabitch. Looking at the photo, Albert’s big enough to haul Joel around and put him in the front seat of a car.”
“Ian said whoever hit Weems would have had to be at least six feet, based on the placement of the crack in Weems’s skull. Albert is easily six feet.” Olivia looked around the room. “No sign of struggle.”
“You seem okay now,” Noah noted.
“Once I get past the body, I’m usually all right. Thanks for the nudge before.”
“Anytime. Abbott called when I was walking the super out. He talked to Kenny in the safe house. Said the boy remembers seeing a police scanner in the shooter’s van.”
“He’s listening to us,” Olivia said.
“Yeah. Abbott wants to keep him in the dark on Austin’s whereabouts, so we have a special frequency for any mention of the search. Also, somebody’s been burning paper in the fireplace. Looked like blueprints.”
“Getting rid of evidence. Even if we find Albert’s fingerprints in here, he can just say he lived here, so that’s no good. We need a way to tie him to this.”
“Maybe he kept his kit. No sign of syringes or spoons anywhere.”
“And you have to heat the oxy to get it to dissolve in water so you can inject it,” Olivia said. “Whoever hit these guys with a needle did it right.” She opened drawers, frowning. “No cell, no laptop.”
“None in the other room either. Next stop, the university’s registrar’s office. They’ll have Albert’s address. Can’t be too many Alberts on the hockey team.”
“We still need to find Mary, though. Grumpy Early next door said she and Joel came here together to study, with rolled-up paper-the blueprints. She’s in on this.”
“And,” Noah said, “if Albert’s killing off his cohorts, she could be next.”
“I’m thinking she can give us the connection to Tomlinson and Dorian Blunt. Those fires still make no sense unless the first one was just a cover and they were planning something bigger all along.”
“Or like you and Dr. Donahue said yesterday-different agendas. Somebody left glass balls at the first two fires, but not the third. An environmentalist agenda links fires one and two. But Tomlinson links fires two and three.”
Olivia bit at her lip. “Joel was dead before fire two. Micki said there were three people. Albert was there, because he’s the only one tall enough to whack Weems in the head. Joel was there because we’ve got smoke in his lungs and glue in his shoes.”
Noah opened Eric’s closet. “Whoa, this kid spent some serious money on clothes.” He crouched down and a moment later stood, a running shoe in his hand. “Glue. They must not have known they tracked through it, or they’d have gotten rid of the shoes, too.”
“So Eric was also there. That’s three. Kenny said Austin saw a guy getting into a boat off the dock. That’s four. Was Albert the guy at the dock? He shot Weems?”
And Kane. A spurt of fury shot up inside her, but then Olivia frowned. Something wasn’t right, didn’t fit. “One set of glue tracks at the fence where they got away, no glue on the dock side of the condo, so neither Eric nor Joel walked over there. Let’s assume Joel wanted to change his mind and Albert whacked him, too. Could Eric have carried Joel away on his own, leaving none of Joel’s tracks behind while Albert ran around the building to escape off the dock, shooting Weems on the way?”
Noah studied Eric’s body. “He’s pretty skinny. He might have been able to haul Joel, especially if he was scared. But it makes more sense that Albert carried him out, especially since he whacked him.”
“Mary wasn’t on the dock, because Austin saw a man. Maybe it was Albert on the dock and Mary helped Eric carry Joel away.”
“Maybe, maybe. Let’s find Albert and Mary and get something solid.”
Wednesday, September 22, 12:30 p.m.
Austin hung back in the shadows in the alley beside the library. From here he could see any car coming in from the street and at his back was a chain-link fence, eight feet tall, so no one would sneak up from behind.
It was as safe as he was going to get under the circum-stances.
He held his breath, although his gut told him what was about to happen. The library was almost a mile from the school. For Kenny to make it here by 12:30, he’d have to cut the last ten minutes of his third-period English class. And old lady McMann did not give bathroom passes. Ever. Chances that Kenny was coming? Close to nil.
A white van pulled into the parking lot and a man got out and walked by Austin’s mom’s car. Frozen where he stood, Austin’s eyes fixed on the face of the man who’d shot that guard, who’d set the fire that killed Tracey. When he moved, his jacket shifted and Austin could see the glint of metal. He had a gun. The gun he’d used on the guard.
The man looked around again, his face red and furious, then started walking again.
This way. He’s coming this way. Oh God. What do I do?
Run. But there was nowhere to go and he had only a dull souvenir knife in his pocket. Don’t move. Do not move.
The man stopped abruptly, got back in his van and drove away.
Austin slumped against the brick wall, trembling. What made the man leave? He needed to find the cops. But he was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Afraid the man was waiting on the street for him to emerge from his hiding place.
Hands shaking, Austin opened his phone, found the text from Captain Bruce Abbott. It’s Austin, he typed. I need help. He hit SEND.
In seconds he got a reply. Where are you?
He hesitated, then figured at least the cops wouldn’t shoot him. Library near school.
I’ll have an officer there in two minutes. Do not leave. Please.
Two minutes was too long. The man would be back, Austin knew. He’d park his van and come back on foot. He opened the text from the fake Kenny and typed a fake reply. Cops came. Had to run. Hiding behind Swindoll’s. Swindoll’s was an Italian ice shop, six blocks away in the other direction. Please come fast. Scared.
In a moment the man with the gun replied. Okay. Stay there.
Two men in dark suits ran by, one with a radio in his hand. Cops. They’d scared the man away. Legs like rubber, Austin walked into the sunlight.
“Help,” he cried, hoping they’d understand. The two suits wheeled around and ran back toward him. Austin fell to his knees behind a stranger’s car, huddled over so that he was hidden from the road. “He’s coming,” he signed, trying to say the words clearly, but his heart was beating so hard and his tongue wouldn’t work. “He’ll see me. He has a white van.”