Killing Fear (38 page)

Stu shook his head. “I don’t know, it was on my mind. After Glenn told that reporter he didn’t kill the Clark woman, and then the press conference and the Feds getting involved—yeah, it was on my mind.” His eyes widened as he made a connection. “You don’t think Jim’s murder had anything to do with that case?”

“We simply want to know what work he took home with him,” Will said.

“It was Glenn. It had to be. No one else had a reason to kill him.”

Will switched gears. “Do you own a personal firearm?”

“No,” Stu replied, eyeing Will suspiciously. “Why?”

“I’m just asking.”

“No, you’re fishing. I’ve worked in the lab for a dozen years and I know how interviews are done. Do you think one of
us
killed him?” Stu looked disgusted. “What’s with you? I think it was Glenn, we all do, and you’re not even considering that possibility?”

“We have strong evidence that suggests Glenn did not—could not—have killed Jim.”

“What?”

“I can’t discuss that with you.”

“Am I a suspect?”

“Should you be?”

“Do I need a lawyer?”

“Do you?”

Stu stood up. “I don’t have to be here.”

“No, you don’t. But you’re an employee of the San Diego Police Department and Chief Causey has given me the authority to interview anyone under his command who may have information about the Jim Gage murder. If you refuse, you will be put on administrative leave pending an investigation. You may have your union representative in here with you, if you do not want to answer our questions without him present.”

“I—” Stu looked flustered.

Will asked, before Stu requested anyone, “What did Jim say when you and Diana spoke to him for two-and-a-half minutes when he left work yesterday?”

“I really don’t remember.” He closed his eyes. “I told him I was worried someone would be fired. He said he was out of the loop, that the Feds looked at the case and didn’t think it should be reopened.”

“Anything else?”

“He wasn’t feeling well and was going to do paperwork at home.”

“Did Diana say anything?”

“She asked about Glenn, if there was any news on him. Jim said there wasn’t. That’s it. That’s all I remember.”

“Thanks, Stu.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, just be available.”

Will looked at Carina. “You ready?”

She nodded.

Will escorted Stu out. Diana was still sitting on a bench in the hall, a file folder open, working on something. She looked up and gave them a half smile. “Everything okay?” She glanced at Stu—who looked flustered and upset—her brows furrowed.

Will nodded. “No problem. You can go in, second door.” He sounded casual. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Diana gathered her material and started down the hall.

Will escorted Stu to the door, ignoring his questions, which were variations on the same theme: Were they firing anyone? Why wasn’t Glenn a suspect?

His cell phone rang as he made it back to the interview room. He walked past, to the adjoining room, where Hans was listening to Carina’s interview with Diana.

“Everything okay?” Will asked quietly.

“Exactly how Dillon predicted it would go.”

Will answered his phone.

“Dominguez here. I just spoke with Roy and Edna Stein. Nice couple. Too nice. Glenn was standing at a closed gas station early Friday morning next to a silver Honda Acura near the on-ramp to I-5 three miles from the border. He waved them over and asked if they had a cell phone because the gas station was closed and his battery died. They offered to give him a ride because they don’t carry cell phones, and he told them he was a journalist writing an article about illegal border crossings and he needed to meet a contact in Tijuana. They happily drove him down there.”

“Why?”

“To quote Mrs. Stein, ‘He was a polite young man and had credentials.’”

“Did you tell her who he was?”

“Yes, and she didn’t believe me. She thinks we’re mistaken.”

“Where did they drop him off?”

“The HSBC Bank on Avenida Revolucion.”

“And he didn’t ask for a ride back?”

“They offered, but he said he’d be down there for a few days and would have a friend pick him up when he was done. He gave them twenty dollars for gas—offered more, but they declined.”

“Do they still have the twenty dollars?”

“No, they bought gas with it.”

“Get over to that gas station where they picked Glenn up and check out the story. If the car is there, have it impounded.” He hung up, told Hans what he learned.

“I’ll text message my buddy. He’s already down there.”

Will listened to Carina in the room. She was just chatting now, talking about Jim as if commiserating with a girlfriend, casually sitting across from Diana. “You know, I’m really going to miss him,” Carina was saying. “We broke up years ago, but we were always friends.”

“He was a terrific lab director,” Diana said. “Very smart, serious, a complete professional. Did you need anything else? It’s late and I still have paperwork to finish up.”

“I don’t know what’s keeping Will. He’ll only be a second, I’m sure.”

Diana glanced at her watch, tapped her fingers on the table. She didn’t look Carina in the eye, seemed on the verge of saying something, then closed her mouth.

“I think she’s primed,” Hans said.

The door opened and Chief Causey walked in along with District Attorney Andrew Stanton. The chief looked tired. “Are you one hundred percent certain she killed Dr. Gage?”

“I know she killed Jim. I can’t prove it yet,” Will admitted. “I have Hazelwood in the evidence room—the lab techs and criminalists routinely check in and out evidence. Nothing may come of it, but she doesn’t have a CCP or a registered gun.”

Hans said, “I don’t think she expects to be under scrutiny. You may very well find evidence at her home.”

“I have a judge waiting to sign a warrant,” Stanton said. “I need something more than Dillon Kincaid’s profile—and frankly, it needs to be tangible. Hard evidence.”

“The sheriff’s crime lab is working double-time on this,” Chief Causey said. “They are combing through fibers and trace evidence. I’ve talked to the sheriff personally and he understands the sensitivity of the situation.”

“If they find something from Diana, she could claim that she’d been in Gage’s house before.”

“But it would be enough for a warrant,” Stanton said. “I’m going to listen in with the chief.”

Will nodded. “Hans, let’s nail her to the wall.”

THIRTY-FIVE

Will walked into the interview room and Diana began to stand. He smiled and motioned her to remain sitting. “Have you met Special Agent Hans Vigo?” Will asked her.

“I heard someone from the FBI was around,” she said.

Hans extended his hand, shook Diana’s, and Will said to Carina, “Can you please follow up with Border Patrol?”

He handed her a note. The note told her to watch with the chief and when he gave her a signal—running his left hand over his head—to come in with a note and hand it to him. Will knew he had to play Diana very carefully because she knew all the tricks.

When Carina left, he took Diana’s hands and squeezed, as if he were supporting her through a difficult time. “We’re all going to miss Jim. How are you holding up?”

She shrugged. “I’m shocked.”

Will dropped her hands and flipped open his notepad. “We’ve asked everyone about conversations with Jim the day he was killed. I know you already spoke to Carina, but we’re trying to figure out what he was working on. He took a box with him from the office—” Will slid the security photo in front of her. “We can’t find it. It’s not in his office, his house, or his car. We’ve retraced his steps and know he went directly home from the office. Do you know what he was working on?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t say. I didn’t ask. Jim always brought work home. I think we all did.”

“They sure don’t pay us enough to work from home,” Will commiserated.

Diana’s words were careful, measured. “I’m curious why you don’t think Theodore Glenn killed Jim. It’s the most logical conclusion. He threatened him in court, just like the others.”

“Of course we looked at Glenn first. But Jim let his killer in. There was no sign of forced entry. No sign of a struggle. Jim opened the door and his killer immediately shot him. No hesitation, just
bang-bang-bang,
three bullets to the chest.”

Diana looked down at her hands and let out a long, shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” Will said. “I should be more sensitive. You and Jim were friends.”

“We were colleagues,” Diana said. “He was my boss. I had a lot of respect for him.”

“We all did.” Will paused. “Carina is not taking his murder well.”

“They lived together, didn’t they?” Diana asked.

“Yeah, for three years. So you don’t know what was in the box?”

She shook her head.

“Was there any writing on it?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Diana?”

“There was a case number.”

“Did you recognize it?”

“No. It was recent, it started with an ‘08’ which meant it came from this year.”

“What was he working on in the office?”

“Primarily the Frank Sturgeon homicide this week, and of course he supervises dozens of cases. I had a gang shooting I processed two days ago, and it has been keeping me busy.”

Gang shooting. Will remembered hearing about it, though he’d been focused on Glenn’s escape. Four dead gang members in an alley. He wondered if they’d recovered any firearms.

He gave Carina the signal and asked, “Have you ever been to Jim’s house?”

Diana froze at the question. “I—why?”

“You were friends.”

“Colleagues.”

Will smiled. “I go to a lot of colleagues’ houses.”

“I’ve been there a few times.”

“When was the last time?”

“Why does this sound like an interrogation?”

Carina walked in, handed Will a note. He ‘read’ it—it was blank—then scribbled
check status of guns in gang shooting
and handed it back.

“When was the last time you were at Jim’s house?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Diana said, her face tight as she watched Carina leave.

“Diana, why won’t you answer the question?”

“It sounds like you’re accusing me of something. I thought we were friends, Will. I thought you respected me.”

Hans spoke for the first time. “Diana, I’ve reviewed your personnel files and you have an exemplary record.”

“Why were you looking at my personnel files?”

“We looked at everyone in Jim’s department,” Hans said.

Diana stared at Will. “You said the Feds weren’t involved.”

“I never said that.”

“On the news. You said the Feds reviewed the evidence and that we processed that stripper’s crime scene properly.”

“It was processed properly,” Will said, staring Diana in the eye. “But Theodore Glenn didn’t kill Anna Clark.”

Diana’s face paled. “We found evidence at the scene.”

Will continued as if Diana hadn’t spoken. “Jim knew Glenn didn’t kill Anna. He also knew someone in his crime lab did. I think he had a hard time facing people he trusted knowing that one of them was a killer. So he took the case file home. We know he had the files at his house because he spoke with Dr. Kincaid in Washington about the case only twenty minutes before he was killed in cold blood by someone he trusted.”

During Will’s speech, Diana’s lip began to tremble. She whispered, “I—I can’t believe it.”

“Right now, the Sheriff’s Department is processing trace evidence found at the scene. They have hair and fiber samples that do not belong to Jim. Right now, my partner is sending the guns in your gang shooting to the Sheriff’s Department to compare with the bullets removed from Jim’s dead body. Right now, my only question for you is, why the hell did you kill Jim?”

Diana wasn’t expecting the accusation. Her hands were shaking as she pushed her hair behind her ears. “I—I didn’t!” Her denial rang hollow.

Will leaned forward. “Do you realize that your actions are going to set killers free? Do you realize that you’ve contaminated not only Anna Clark’s crime scene but every case you’ve processed? Every killer, every child molester, is going to file suit and our entire department is going to be under scrutiny. We will be blowing our budget defending cases that should never come up for appeal. You did this, Diana. And why?”

“I—I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do
anything
!”

“Stanton is in the process of getting a warrant to search your house. We don’t need a warrant to search your desk or the lab.” On the fly, Will made up a story. “Right now, while my partner is pulling the guns from the gang shooting, Detective Hazelwood is going through your desk.”

“You can’t do that!”

Will raised his eyebrow. “You work for the government. Everything in your office is government property.”

“I want an attorney.”

That surprised Will. He thought for sure she would continue to deny her guilt until she broke down.

“You’re not under arrest,” Will said carefully.

“But I’m a suspect, aren’t I? I can’t believe you think I could do something like this, Will. After everything between us, you just threw it away. For what?”

The non sequitur didn’t make sense. “I threw what away?” he asked.

“Us!”

“Is that why you planned to kill Robin? Because I had a relationship with her?”

Diana glanced at Hans. She realized she’d said something wrong.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Will. Who’s Robin?” Her face went blank.

Will played along. “Robin McKenna was Anna Clark’s roommate.”

Diana leaned back in her chair, waved her hand in the air. “Another stripper.”

“She found the body. She testified at Glenn’s trial.”

“I don’t remember. But I trust your word.”

She seemed too calm, too composed. Had Dillon been wrong in his analysis? Will didn’t think so: Diana had killed Jim and Anna. But maybe he needed to work her over more subtly. Play along with her biases. Make her think that she had a compatriot.

He sighed dramatically. “That entire case was a low point in my life.”