Erica Spindler - Copy Cat

Peanut’s knowledge of that incident had been the cornerstone of her belief in his being the SAK.

Brian had called Joe, just hours before he died. Joe had hired Buddy Brown.

But the clown had given her the balloon. He’d called and-

M.C. had pointed out the faulty thinking in that already. Joe had seen the clown hand her the balloon and used it as a way of proving himself innocent.

She struggled to think clearly, to separate fact from fear. What she was considering was insane. Impossible. She had known this man most of his life. Even with a voice-altering device, she would recognize his voice patterns and-

That was bullshit. A sophisticated voice-changer could make an old voice young, a male voice female-or vice versa-and all manner of adjustments in between.

But if her caller was the original SAK…

Maybe the original SAK had never been involved. They wouldn’t even have needed him. It could be wholly their plot.

The three old ladies, she realized. If the SAK hadn’t been the one calling her, how had he known about them?

He couldn’t have.

What if that were a lie, too?

Kitt’s head whirled with questions and answers to them-ones she both feared were true and prayed weren’t.

She was aware of Joe looking at her. The hair at the back of her neck prickled. She hadn’t cuffed him. Hadn’t searched him for a weapon.

Of course she hadn’t.

This was Joe.

She glanced at him, forcing a smile. As long as he believed nothing had changed, he would go along with her. “Almost there.”

“Are you thinking Valerie’s in some sort of trouble?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Ever since I mentioned that Tami was deaf, you’ve been acting a little strange.”

She couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. So she told him the truth. Her by-the-book truth. “I can’t discuss what I’m thinking with you. I’m going to need to talk to Sal and he’ll want to talk to you.”

Kitt reached the PSB and pulled into the underground parking area. She parked and turned to him. “Ready?”

He grabbed her arm as she reached for the door handle. “What’s going on here, Kitt?”

“A murder investigation. I thought you knew that.”

He tightened his grip on her arm. “Do you love me?”

She held his gaze. A lump formed in her throat. Would she, if it was proved he was a child killer? Or an accomplice to one? How could she? But for now, this moment, even with her suspicions, she did.

“Yes,” she answered softly. “I do.”

He released her and they climbed out of the car. On their way in, they were joined by Sorenstein and Snowe, obviously just returning from lunch. The smell of fried chicken still hung on them, and she realized it’d been hours since she’d eaten.

“Yo, Lundgren,” Snowe greeted her, then looked at Joe. “Scott Snowe. I think we met before.”

“We probably did. I’m Joe Lundgren, Kitt’s ex-husband.”

They shook hands. Sorenstein introduced himself as well. If the detectives thought it was strange she was with her ex, they didn’t mention it.

“By the way, nothing yet,” Sorenstein said, anticipating her asking how the ballistics search was going. “I’m taking another crack at it this afternoon.”

“Let me know if-”

“You’ll be the first, I swear.”

The elevator arrived and she and Joe stepped on. “What now?” he asked.

“I’ll put you in one of the interrogation rooms, then go talk to Sal.”

“When he questions me, will you be with him?”

She shook her head. “I’ve already been too involved.”

“I’m on my own?”

“Afraid so.” They reached the second floor and exited the elevator. She led Joe to the hall where the six interrogation rooms were located. Number One was empty, she opened it and flipped on the light. “I’ll be as fast as I can be.”

He nodded; she crossed to the door, stopped and looked back at him. “By the way, Joe, did Brian call you last night?”

“Brian Spillare?”

She nodded.

“No. Why?”

For the space of a heartbeat, she wanted to scream “Liar!” Instead, she forced a reassuring smile. “He was looking for me, that’s all. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

3:00 p.m.

Kitt shut the interrogation room door, heart in her throat. Joe had lied. Brian had called him, it was in the log. What could Brian have found that implicated Joe?

Kitt went in search of Sal. She learned from Nan that he and Sergeant Haas were in his office. Taking a deep breath, she tapped on Sal’s partially closed door.

He called out for her to come in. “Kitt,” he said, sounding annoyed, “what can I do for you?”

“I need to bounce something off you. It’s important.”

He waved her in. “Bounce away.”

She crossed to the chair in front of his desk and stood behind it, gripping the back for support. “I may have had a breakthrough in the Copycat case.” His expression altered subtly, and she went on. “I’m still wrestling with this, but it’s a scenario. I have to lay it out for you.”

Both men’s gazes were riveted on her. “Valerie Martin was in this morning. She claimed she lied about being with Joe the night of Julie Entzel’s murder. She was his only alibi.”

Sal frowned. “M.C. was with you?”

“No. She was tracking down possible links between the three grandmother murders and the SAK.”

An angry flush climbed his cheeks, but he held his tongue. She knew what would come when she’d finished and he’d assessed what he considered “the damage.”

“I videotaped her statement.”

“Glad to hear you used some sense.”

No doubt he would retract that comment with her next. “From there, I called on Joe.”

He looked alarmingly like he might pop. “Alone?”

“Yes.”

Sergeant Haas stepped in. “You want to explain how you went from tracking Lieutenant Spillare’s movements yesterday to-”

“Brian called Joe last night. Shortly before he called me. Joe’s number was on the call log.”

That brought silence. Kitt went on. “I questioned him, brought him in, though he came of his own volition. He’s in Interrogation One. Here’s where it gets weird.”

She began by explaining about the Society for the Deaf calendars M.C. had found, then learning from Joe that Valerie’s daughter was deaf.

“A lightbulb went off. Valerie works in the hospital pediatric ward Julie Entzel visited. She would have known of Buddy Brown, through Joe. Had access to personal information about me, including my cell phone number. And I had strongly considered during the course of the investigation that the Copycat was a woman.”

She paused. “The Copycat killings were nothing but a smoke screen to cover up the murder of her own daughter.”

“Why?”

“Freedom. She was tired of being tied down to a handicapped child.”

“The child’s father?”

“He left her when they learned Tami was deaf.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Valerie Martin’s the Copycat. How did she and the SAK meet?”

“Exactly what I asked myself. Where did they meet and what was the nature of their relationship? Were they adversaries, as Peanut claimed? Or were they partners? Or even lovers? And I took the logical next step.”

Sal nodded. “Which led you to-”

“Joe.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Joe knows everything about me. He knew about that night I let the SAK slip away. Which was the basis of my belief that Peanut was the SAK.”

Sal and Sergeant Haas exchanged glances. “So you’re saying the original SAK was never involved in this? That the plot was hatched wholly by the two of them?”