Marcia Clark - Killer Ambition

“George, can you give me an estimate for time of death?” I asked.

“Just a very rough one. I’d say he’s been dead for about three days now.”

Three days. That would put his death very close in time to Hayley’s. We’d get a tighter frame when the autopsy was done for both of them-though, contrary to popular belief, it wouldn’t be down to the minute, or even the hour. Usually, the best a coroner can do is narrow the time of death down to a window of a few hours. Even then, an estimate as narrow as a couple of hours requires more information than a pathologist can gather on his own. For example, stomach contents can be helpful, but without certain information like a witness who can say when the victim last ate, or how fast that victim digests, or how much physical activity the victim engaged in after the meal, and so on-the coroner can’t give a precise time of death. Since no one we’d spoken to so far had seen Brian after Iris Stavros had a glimpse of him on Monday, we weren’t likely to find anyone who could say when he last ate. We’d need other information to prove conclusively that he’d died shortly before or after Hayley. I motioned for Bailey to join me and we moved outside the crime scene tape to a spot where we could talk.

“You could’ve told me who the victim was,” I said, more than a little irritated at the way I’d been blindsided.

“Sorry. It’s just that the cop wasn’t sure.” Bailey glanced at me. “It’s just…I didn’t want to jump the gun…”

…given the way I’d reacted to Hayley’s death. “I get it.” I gave her a grim nod. “I’m going to step out on a limb here and say Brian didn’t buy that ticket to Paris.”

Bailey nodded. “And it seems a lot less likely that he killed Hayley. But he was definitely in on the kidnapping-”

“And we know he sent the ransom note, so there’s a good chance Hayley was in on the kidnap-ransom scheme.”

“Agreed. But now we know someone else has to be involved-”

“Someone who was trying to make it look as though Brian was still alive and planning to leave the country-”

“So they could frame Brian for Hayley’s murder,” Bailey said. “Now we know why that ticket to Paris was purchased under Brian’s alias.”

While Bailey and I were talking, I saw Dorian arrive. This time she started by taking soil samples from the area and collecting leaves from the shrubs. That reminded me of Fryman Canyon. I went over and greeted her.

“Hey, Dorian. Glad it’s you out here.”

“Makes one of us. What do you want?”

Dorian’s gushing could be so embarrassing. “I was just thinking that we also had a scene at Fryman Canyon. I don’t know if you remember, that’s where the-”

“-ransom was dropped. Of course I remember. I already took samples from there. Any other brilliant thoughts you’d like to share?”

“Nope, all good.”

Since Dorian didn’t seem in need of any further assistance, I looked around and noticed that George and his burly assistant had already loaded the body into the wagon and George was about to get into the driver’s seat. I walked over to him.

“Can you give me some idea as to cause of death?”

“There was an obvious puncture wound in the left side of the neck, and a deep slice across the carotid. Probably drew the knife from behind from left to right.”

So cause of death for both Hayley and Brian was knife wounds. “Can we ask Steve to compare the wound tracks to another victim’s?”

“Hayley Antonovich?”

I nodded.

“Good idea. I’ll put in the request. Steven testified in a case I had up in Seattle. Great witness.”

Steven Diamond is the coroner’s criminalist who knows and does just about everything you can think of. One of those things is to determine what kind of blade created a wound. That’s a pretty unique skill that, as far as I know, no one can do as well as Steven, because he compiled a database of wounds that were known to have been made by specific knives. As a result, he might be able to get fairly precise about what kind of knife was used to inflict our fatal wounds. In this case, with two victims killed close in time, I was hoping Steven could tell us whether the same, or at least a very similar, weapon was used on both of them. And that would help to prove both kids-I couldn’t help but think of them that way-were murdered by the same person. It would never be as precise a match as bullets or casings would’ve given us, but it was a heck of a lot better than most criminalists could do with knife wounds.

George got in, started the van, and slowly pulled out. I didn’t envy him having to maneuver that bulky vehicle on these wet, winding roads. Come to think of it, I wasn’t all that wild about doing it in a car. My thoughts wound back around to Fryman Canyon and the ransom money. I found Bailey talking to one of the unis and motioned her over.

“Did anyone check Brian’s bank accounts? Or find out if he had a safe-deposit box?” I asked.

“No safe-deposit box, and his bank account had twenty-seven bucks and some change. No ransom money anywhere. Until now, I just figured he had the money on him.”

“So maybe our third party was in on the kidnapping plan and killed them both so he could grab the money-”

Bailey nodded. “And get rid of the witnesses.” She gestured to the rest of the team, who were packing up to leave. “Let me wrap up here and we can take off.”

It was nearly ten o’clock now, and the darkness that had settled over the mountain was pierced only by the sliver of light from a crescent moon. The air temperature had dropped at least thirty degrees, and the hulking black hostility of the terrain was starting to get to me. I thought about Brian drawing his last breath in this harsh, lonely wilderness. Had he still been alive when the killer shoveled the dirt over him? The thought left me short of breath and achingly sad. My cell phone rang, breaking into my morbid reverie. Startled by the sound, I reflexively took the call.

A voice cried out, “I j-just heard about Hayley!” Choking sobs intervened before the caller could continue. “It’s all my fault! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

It took me a moment to identify the voice through the tears. “Mackenzie?”

“She told me she’d be okay! And I believed her!”

“Take a deep breath, Mackenzie.”

A sharp, ragged intake of air, then, “Sh-she told me…she said everything would be okay-”

“You mean Hayley?”

“Y-yes.” Sniffling and a few hiccups. “She said she’d be gone for a while and I wouldn’t be able to reach her. I might hear something that sounded bad, but I shouldn’t worry, and I couldn’t tell anyone. She said don’t tell, just don’t tell. She said she and Brian had a plan and everything was going to be great. But she didn’t tell me-” The rest of the sentence was cut off by more racking sobs.

“-what the plan was?”

“No. She just said not to tell anyone. So I didn’t. She said not to…” Mackenzie trailed off.

“Mackenzie, you are not to blame. Do you hear me? You didn’t know what she was planning.” But Mackenzie was now crying and hiccupping uncontrollably. “Mackenzie? Is your dad there?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know about all this?”

“Yes.”

“Will you please put him on the phone? And stay right there, okay?”

“Okay.” Then, I heard her call out, “Dad!”

Seconds later, a male voice said, “Yes?” We exchanged names and then I asked Mackenzie’s father to watch her closely and not to leave her alone. I’d talk to Mackenzie myself, in person, and try to get her to understand she shouldn’t blame herself for any of this. He promised to stay at her side day and night and said he’d get her to her therapist tomorrow.