‘I understand.’
‘Those codes you found stamped on the bullet, could you please give them to me again?’
She did.
‘Okay,’ James said. ‘That bottom row of numbers, B4M6?? Those codes correspond to a batch of test ammo we ran on… Here it is, January 16th of last year. According to my notes, the ammo was used for an in-house demonstration.’
‘Do you mean a demonstration for company executives?’
‘It’s possible. The bigwigs like to check in once in a while to see how their money’s being spent. The demo could have been given to a law enforcement agency. We’re trying to get everyone on board with the new technology, to show them how it will change ballistics identification. Of course, the gun lobbyists are fighting it tooth and nail.’
‘I need to know the names of the people who were at this demonstration.’
‘I don’t have that information here. It’s on the other side of the building, under lock and key.’
‘You can’t access it?’
‘Not right now – the vault, as we call it, is about to close for the day. I have to fill out a form to access the records, and I need to get it signed by several people, including the president. I know it sounds like a bureaucracy – and you would be right – but the main reason is we have to be wary of corporate spying. There are four competing companies who are developing some sort of microstamping technology. Only one company will be chosen. We’re talking, potentially, hundreds of millions of dollars, so you can see why we need the extra security.’
‘The first row, GLK18. Is that the code for a Glock eighteen?’
‘That’s what I have here in my notes.’
‘What do you know about handguns, Miss James?’
‘Not much, I’m afraid. I’m just involved in the technology part.’
‘The Glock eighteen isn’t available here in the States.’
‘I see where you’re heading. We routinely test different types of ammunition on various weapons – handguns, shotguns, sniper rifles, you name it. Some are illegal, such as semi-automatic weapons, and because we can’t purchase them, they’re donated to us through various law enforcement personnel. It’s all legal.’
‘What about the FBI? Have they donated weapons?’
‘They have. They’re staunch supporters of microstamping. They want to make sure the stamping works on ammo used in various weapons. I seem to recall their bringing a handgun called… a Bar…’
‘Barak,’ Darby said. The double-action pistol, she knew, had been originally developed to be used by the Israeli Defence Force and was now used by Israeli police. ‘When can you get me that list of names?’
‘I’ll fill out the paperwork tonight and get to work on it first thing tomorrow morning. I can give you copies of the sign-in sheets, if you want. What’s the best way to reach you?’
Darby gave the woman her phone numbers and email address. She thanked her and hung up, about to head to ballistics to see if a Glock eighteen had been used in any local or national homicides, when her phone rang.
‘Darby McCormick.’
‘Miss McCormick, my name is Charlie Skinner.’ The man’s voice sounded as if his throat were wrapped in barbed wire. ‘I’m the superintendent for MCI-Cedar Junction. I need to talk to you about the man who murdered your father.’
27
Darby remained standing, her heart thudding inside her chest as she watched the raindrops running down her office window.
Her beeper vibrated against her hip.
‘Miss McCormick? Are you there?’
‘I’m here.’ She checked her beeper. Operations had paged her.
‘Is this a good time, or should I call back tomorrow?’
‘No, Mr Skinner, I’d like to talk now.’ She had a strange cramping sensation in her throat. ‘Can I put you on hold for a moment?’
‘Of course. Take your time.’
She put Skinner on hold and dialled Coop’s office.
‘Do me a favour,’ she said after he picked up. ‘Ops just paged me and I’m on the phone. Call ops, get the details and talk to the detective. I’ll meet you in your office when I’m finished.’
She picked up Skinner’s line.
‘Thanks for holding, Mr Skinner.’
‘Please call me Charlie. I’m probably old enough to be your grandfather. Miss McCormick, the reason for my call is that John Ezekiel has requested to speak to you.’
‘About what?’
‘He said he has some information regarding a woman named Amy Hallcox.’
Darby sat on the edge of her desk. ‘What sort of information?’
‘He wouldn’t tell me. He’s under no obligation to do so. Isn’t Amy Hallcox the woman who was murdered in Belham?’
‘Yes. How does he know her? Did he say?’
‘No, he didn’t. But I can tell you she went to visit him yesterday afternoon.’
The day she was murdered.
‘She came in at three thirty and spoke to him for an hour,’ Skinner said. ‘That’s the maximum time we allow. Ezekiel is in Ten Block – that’s our maximum-security wing – and since he’s been on good behaviour, we allowed the visit.’
‘When was he moved from general pop?’
‘Let’s see…’ She heard the tap-tap-tap of keys on the other end of the line. ‘After Ezekiel was arrested, he got into a lot of fights with inmates. Nothing serious but he spent a lot of time in solitary. That changed five years ago when he murdered another inmate in the shower – he broke the man’s neck. We had to move him to Ten Block. Ezekiel’s been quite a problem, especially with the psychiatric nurses. He’s schizophrenic and they have to inject him with medication. Right after we moved him, he glassed one of the male nurses.’
‘Glassed?’
‘Sorry, that’s one of our local prison terms. A male nurse coined the phrase. Ezekiel unscrewed one of the light bulbs in his cell, crushed the glass and mixed it with his faeces. When the nurses came to give him his daily injection, he threw the mixture at them. They wiped their faces and ended up getting cut pretty badly from the glass. One of them had to have surgery on his eyes and has been partially blinded. Thanks to Mr Ezekiel, we had to install grates around all the lights in Ten Block Have you spoken to him before?’
‘No. Did he specifically ask for me?’ Her name hadn’t been mentioned in the papers or the news regarding the Belham murder.
‘He asked to speak to you – and only you,’ Skinner said. ‘He also told me that if you refused to come, he won’t speak to another detective. Have you ever interviewed a prisoner before?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Then let me explain how this works. I can arrange a room where you can speak to Mr Ezekiel in privacy. Don’t be surprised if he suddenly decides not to speak to you. He’s under no legal obligation to share the knowledge of his meeting with Miss Hallcox, if that’s what this is all about. He may, in fact, request a lawyer.’
‘Has he asked for one?’
‘Not yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t – or won’t – change his mind. Murderers are, at their core, nothing but cowards. It’s been my experience that when they’re in the presence of the victim’s family, they simply shut down. I’m not saying he will, but I am saying you should be prepared for the possibility. And you have the added burden of his schizophrenia. He’s medicated, but I’m told that disease is tricky to treat. From what I’ve read here, he still suffers from delusions – thinks people are watching and listening.’
‘Has anyone else visited him?’
‘Not according to what I’ve got up on my computer screen, but these records only go back fifteen years. That’s about the time we switched over to using computers. Now we use them for everything. I’m an old-fashioned man, and I must admit I miss paper.’