Hunter nodded. ‘We’d appreciate it if you did.’
Mr. J didn’t say anything because he didn’t want the detectives in his office to become suspicious of how much he knew about police interrogations and interviews, but the line of questioning they were pursuing could mean only one thing — no signs of forced entry had been found all throughout the house. They had no idea of how his wife’s killer had got in.
‘You said that a hammer and chisel were used,’ Hunter asked, finally moving the subject along. ‘Are you sure it was a chisel, not a nail?’
‘It was a masonry chisel with a pointy end,’ Mr. J replied confidently. ‘Not a nail. I’m sure of that. But the hammer was a regular claw hammer.’
‘Did it belong to this house?’ Hunter asked. ‘Is that something he would’ve found inside a drawer, maybe?’
Once again, Mr. J shook his head. ‘No, neither the hammer nor the chisel belong to this house. He must’ve brought them with him.’ He regarded both detectives intensively. ‘From your line of questioning, I take it that none have been found.’
‘No,’ Hunter admitted. ‘The house and its grounds have been searched, but we’ve found nothing. In the morning we’re widening the search to include neighboring streets.’
The look Mr. J gave Hunter and Garcia was totally lacking in confidence.
‘How about Cassandra’s phone?’ he asked. ‘This psycho used her phone to call me. Have you found it?’
‘Yes,’ Garcia this time. ‘We found it inside the microwave in the kitchen.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s worthless. Even Forensics won’t be able to get anything out of it.’
Mr. J played dumb for a moment. ‘Can’t you contact her cellphone company? Ask them for a digital copy of the call?’
‘They won’t have any,’ Hunter replied.
‘How come?’
Hunter gave Mr. J the explanation he already knew.
‘We did find a black Asus laptop on the kitchen counter,’ Garcia said. ‘Did that belonged to your wife?’
Mr. J nodded. ‘It was Cassandra’s, yes.’
‘You said that the perpetrator was wearing a mask?’ Garcia asked, taking the subject back to the killer’s video call.
Mr. J nodded. ‘The fucking coward. Man enough to break into my house and murder a defenseless woman. Man enough to place a goddamn video-call to me just so he could play God. But not man enough to show his face.’
A vein on Mr. J’s forehead threatened to explode.
‘Could you describe this mask for us?’
Mr. J’s description of the killer’s mask was identical to the one Tanya Kaitlin had given them two days ago.
Garcia looked at his partner but said nothing. ‘And you also mentioned that the caller told you that calling the police would be a waste of time, is that right?’
‘Yes. He said that the police would never make it in time.’
Another quick look exchange. They would have to check the nine-one-one records for bogus calls once again, but Hunter and Garcia were both sure that the killer had used the same tactics as before.
Hunter decided to bring the questioning a little closer to their first victim.
‘Do you know if your wife knew someone by the name of Karen Ward?’ he asked.
Mr. J’s eyes narrowed for a beat, while he repeated the name to himself a couple of times.
Hunter observed him attentively.
‘The name doesn’t really ring any bells,’ he replied. ‘But Cassandra knew a lot of people who I never met. People from her gym. People from the charity shops she volunteered at. People from the support groups she attended. Her circle of friends was much bigger than mine.’ He fixed Hunter down with a new serious stare. ‘Why? Who is she?’
‘We don’t know yet,’ Hunter lied. ‘Her name was on a card we found outside on the street.’
‘Outside on the street like what?’ Mr. J asked, buying it. ‘On my front yard? On the street in front of the house? Where?’
Hunter had to think fast. ‘That’s the reason I asked. It was found on the street a little further up the road. It’s probably nothing, but we’ll check with every house on the street anyway.’
Mr. J wasn’t able to tell if that was a lie or not, but he immediately committed the name to memory. He would have to ask Brian Caldron to check on who she was.
Hunter quickly moved the subject away from Karen Ward. ‘You mentioned your wife and support groups?’
‘Cassandra lost her mother to an undiagnosed heart condition several years ago,’ Mr. J explained. ‘Support groups helped her a lot during that time, but she’s the kind of person who likes helping others too.’ He paused, realizing his mistake. His pain was almost palpable. ‘Was the kind of person who liked helping others,’ he corrected himself. ‘So every now and again she would attend support-group sessions for people who had lost loved ones to illnesses. Try to help them in some way. That’s the kind of person she was.’
‘Do you have any other details on these support groups?’ Hunter asked. ‘Names? Locations where they met? Anything?’
‘No. Not really. But I can call a few of her friends and try to find out.’
‘That would be very much appreciated,’ Hunter said, though he would get a team on to it straight away as well.
‘Did your wife used any type of social media network sites?’ Garcia asked.
‘Doesn’t everyone nowadays?’
‘Yes, that’s very true,’ Garcia accepted it. ‘Did she ever mention anything to you about anyone trolling her, or sending her inappropriate messages, or anything?’
Mr. J brought a hand to his face and used his thumb and index finger to rub his exhausted eyes.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Never. But she mainly used it just to keep in touch with some old friends from Santa Ana. Nothing like what most kids do nowadays, like my son, spending most of his time online.’
‘How about you, Mr. Jenkinson,’ Garcia asked. ‘Do you have a social media page?’
‘I do, yes. My company also has a business page.’
Hunter knew that his next question would sound a little strange. ‘The question about your wedding date, Mr. Jenkinson...’
Mr. J locked eyes with Hunter and in them Hunter saw devastating pain.
‘Can you remember if you’ve been asked that same question recently, maybe in the past year? Maybe while out with friends, at a dinner party, by anyone you have worked with, while having a few drinks at a bar... anywhere?’
Mr. J did find the detective’s question somewhat strange.
‘No, I don’t recall ever being asked anything about my wedding date in...’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t even know how long.’
‘Do you remember who it was? The person who asked you about it?’
Mr. J’s look became distant for a moment, before switching to sadness. ‘Cassandra. That’s how she used to remind me of it because I used to forget it every year. She’d wait until late at night, just before we went to bed, and then she’d say something subtle like, “What’s the date today, do you know?” And that was when I knew that I had screwed up big time and it was way too late to dig up an excuse. It didn’t use to be like that, you know?’ he said, as if he saw the need to defend himself before both detectives. The look in his eyes became even sadder, yearning for a time long gone. ‘I used to remember it every year, buy her gifts, flowers, take her to dinner... I don’t really know what happened. I don’t really know how or why I let all that go, but even she gave up on reminding me a few years back. I guess she thought that there was no point in doing it anymore.’
Hunter remained silent, waiting for Mr. J to push the memory all the way to the back of his mind.