Robert Crais - Suspect

Scott found Shin’s store on the diagram, then pointed out Elton Marley’s location.

“Marley was burglarized two weeks ago. He’s been hit four or five times in the past year, and he told me a lot of other businesses in the area have been hit, too. Your diagram here doesn’t show a delivery area behind the building that opens off this alley—”

Scott drew an invisible box with his finger to illustrate the area behind the buildings where Marley had been loading his van. Orso and Cowly were watching him.

“A fire escape goes to the roof. There’s no security except for window bars on the lowest windows, and the area back here is totally hidden from view. I’m thinking the bad guys use the fire escape to reach the higher windows. They dinged Marley for a computer and a scanner this time. Last time, they grabbed a boom box, another computer, and a few bottles of rum.”

Orso glanced at Cowly.

“Small-time breaking and entering, easy-to-carry goods.”

Cowly nodded.

“Neighborhood locals.”

Scott pushed on with his theory.

“Whoever it is, if the same perp is behind all these jobs, he might be the person who broke into Shin’s the night I was shot. Also, I went up to the roof. It’s a total party hangout—”

Scott took out his cell phone, found a good picture of the beer cans and debris, and passed the phone to Orso.

“Maybe the guy who hit Shin’s store was long gone, but if someone else was up here when the Kenworth hit the Bentley, they could have seen everything.”

Cowly leaned toward him.

“Did Marley file a report?”

“Two weeks ago. Someone went out, but Marley hasn’t heard back. I told him I’d check the status and get back to him.”

Orso glanced at Cowly.

“That’s Central Robbery. Ask them for the robbery reports and arrests in this area for the past two years. And whatever they have on Mr. Marley. I’ll want to speak with the DIC.”

DIC was Detective-in-Charge.

Cowly asked Scott to repeat Marley’s full name and the address of his store, and wrote the information on her pad. As she wrote, Orso turned back to Scott.

“This is a good find. Good thinking. I like this.”

Scott felt elated, and that something trapped in his heart for nine months was beginning to ease.

Orso said, “Okay, now Joyce has something. Come sit. Joyce—”

Scott took a seat as Cowly picked up a large manila envelope and took out the contents. She dealt out four sheets of heavy gloss paper in front of Scott like playing cards. Each sheet was printed with six sets of color booking photos. The pictures were in pairs, showing each man’s full face and profile. The men were of all ages and races, and all had white or gray sideburns of varying shapes and lengths. Cowly explained as she laid out the pictures.

“Identifiers like hair color, hairstyle, length, et cetera, are part of the database. Anyone look familiar?”

Scott went from elated to nauseous in a heartbeat, and in that moment was once more lying in the street, hearing the gunfire. He closed his eyes, drew a slow breath, and imagined himself on a white sandy beach. He was alone, and naked, and his skin was warm from the sun. He pictured himself on a red beach towel. He imagined the sound of the surf. This was a technique Goodman taught him to deal with the flashbacks. Put himself elsewhere, and create the details. Imagining details took concentration, and helped him relax.

Orso said, “Scott?”

Scott felt a flush of embarrassment, and opened his eyes. He studied the pictures, but none of the men were familiar.

“I didn’t see enough. I’m sorry.”

Cowly pulled the cap off a black Sharpie and handed it to him, still smiling the relaxed, easy smile. She wore no nail polish.

“Don’t sweat it. I didn’t expect you to recognize a face. I got three thousand, two hundred, and sixty-one hits for gray or white hair. I pulled these because they have different hair types and sideburn styles. That’s the purpose of this exercise. As best you can— if you can, and no sweat if you can’t—circle the style closest to what you saw, or cross out the styles you can definitely rule out.”

One of the men had long thin sideburns as sharp as a stiletto. Another had huge muttonchops that covered most of his cheeks. Scott crossed them out along with the other styles he knew were wrong, and circled five men with thick, rectangular sideburns. The shortest stopped mid-ear, and the longest extended about an inch below the man’s lobe. Scott pushed the sheets back to Cowly, wondering again if he had seen the sideburns or only imagined them.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure I saw them.”

Cowly and Orso shared a glance as she slipped the sheets back into their envelope, and Orso plucked a thin file from the spread on the table.

“This is the criminalist’s report on the Gran Torino. After we spoke, I reread it. Five white hairs from the same individual were found on the driver’s side.”

Scott stared at Orso, then Cowly. Orso smiled. Cowly didn’t. She looked like a woman on the hunt, and picked up where Orso left off.

“We can’t affirm they’re from the man you saw, but a man with white hair was in that vehicle at some point in time. The DNA from the follicles didn’t match anything in the CODIS or DOJ data banks, so we don’t know his name, but we know he’s a Caucasian male. There’s an eighty percent chance his hair was brown before it turned white, and we are one hundred percent positive he has blue eyes.”

Orso arched his eyebrows, smiled even wider, and looked like a happy scoutmaster.

“Starts adding up, doesn’t it? Thought you’d like to know you aren’t crazy.”

Then the happy scoutmaster face dropped away, and Orso rested his hand on the file box.

“Okay. The case file here is arranged by subject. The murder book contains the case evidence Melon and Stengler thought was the most important, but isn’t as complete as the file. You’re the man with the questions. What do you want to know?”

Scott wanted something to trigger more memories, but he didn’t know what that thing was or what it might be.

Scott looked at Orso.

“Why don’t we have a suspect?”

“A suspect was never identified.”

“I knew that much from Melon and Stengler.”

Orso patted the file box.

“The long version is in here, which you’re free to read, but I’ll give you the CliffsNotes version.”

Orso sketched out the investigation quickly and professionally. Scott knew most of it from Melon and Stengler, but did not interrupt.

The first person suspected when a homicide occurs is the spouse. Always. This is Rule Number One in the Homicide Handbook. Rule Number Two is “follow the money.” Melon and Stengler approached their investigation in this way. Did Pahlasian or Beloit owe money? Did either man cheat a business partner? Was either having an affair with another man’s wife? Did Pahlasian’s wife jilt a lover, who murdered her husband as retaliation, or did his wife have Eric murdered to be with another man?

Melon and Stengler identified only two persons of interest during their investigation. The first was a Russian pornographer in the Valley who had invested in several projects with Pahlasian. His porno enterprise was financed by a Russian Organized Crime element, which put him on their radar, but the man made better than a twenty percent profit with Pahlasian, so Melon and Stengler eventually cleared him. The second person of interest was tied to Beloit. The Robbery-Homicide Division’s Robbery Special group informed Melon that Interpol had named Beloit as a known associate of a French diamond fence. This led to a theory Beloit was smuggling diamonds, but the Robbery Special team eventually cleared him of criminal involvement.