Web of Justice (5 page)

Hank leaned in for a closer look. There was no photo attached to the report, but the given information stated Mrs. Bragg had black hair and dark brown eyes—just like the victim. She’d been dressed in a short red skirt and white blouse—just like the victim. And she lived on the east side of Richmond Hill—just like the victim.

Hank was convinced he had a match.

A quick search of the driver’s license database brought up a familiar headshot; it was the face of the woman found in the park.

There was no doubt. The victim’s name was Olivia Bragg.

Hank sat back. Putting a name to the face suddenly made it all more real, more personal. He gave a long sigh. The death of one supposed innocent victim would now affect the lives of so many, and the pain of those closest to her would never go away.

He glanced up as Rod Jameson approached his desk and dropped into the chair opposite him. In his usual deep voice, the investigator announced, “The hair from the package matches the victim, Hank. There’s no doubt.”

Hank shook his head slowly, his eyes on Rod. He had expected a positive ID, and he was determined to find out why this woman was murdered and who’d done the killing.

“I found the victim’s name,” Hank said. “It’s Olivia Bragg.”

“I don’t envy you your next task, Hank,” Rod said. “Any family?”

“A husband.”

Rod stood. “I’ll get the forensic report from the scene to you as soon as I can. There’s nothing right now that sticks out as being of earth-shaking importance, but I’ll let you know if we find anything.”

“Thanks, Rod,” Hank said as the investigator left.

Hank jotted down the address and phone number of Edgar Bragg in his notepad. He picked up the phone, hesitated a moment, then dialed the number.

“Mr. Bragg,” Hank began when a man answered the phone. “This is Detective Corning. I’d like to drop by to see you, if that’s possible.”

The man’s voice showed a hint of excitement. “Is this about my wife? About Olivia?”

Hank paused before answering. “Yes, it is.”

“Did you find her?”

Hank took a long breath. “May I drop by now? Are you at home?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m home.” The voice had changed to one of apprehension.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Hank said. He confirmed the address and hung up. He wasn’t about to give Mr. Bragg the news over the phone. Besides, no matter how innocent Bragg seemed, he’d naturally be a chief suspect in his wife’s murder. Hank needed to talk to the man face to face, eye to eye.

He glanced at the address again. From what he knew of the area, the park where Mrs. Bragg’s body had been found was at least a couple of miles north of the Bragg residence. Had Mrs. Bragg been in that area and then been killed and left in the park? Or had she been abducted closer to home, then killed and transported to the park later? These were questions he was eager to find answers for.

He grabbed his briefcase, left the precinct, and a few minutes later, pulled his car into the driveway of 155 Walker Lane. Once inside the building, Mr. Bragg buzzed him in and Hank took the stairs up. A man stood in the doorway of 202, anxiously watching Hank walk down the hallway toward him.

“Mr. Bragg?” Hank asked.

“Yes.”

Hank introduced himself and was invited into the apartment. He sat on the edge of the couch, set his briefcase on the floor, and watched as Bragg sat opposite him.

“Did you find my wife?” the man asked, a deep frown on his worried face. “What’s going on? Why won’t you tell me?”

“Mr. Bragg,” Hank began and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. There wasn’t any easy way to say this. “Mr. Bragg, I’m afraid your wife has been killed.”

Bragg’s eyes narrowed and he stared at Hank, confusion and unbelief on his face. Then he leaned forward and his eyes widened, his mouth gaping open. “Are … are you sure?” was all he could manage.

Hank leaned back. “I’m sure, Mr. Bragg.”

Bragg jumped to his feet and paced the floor furiously. Then he stopped suddenly and spun to face Hank. “What … what happened? How did it happen? Where is she?”

Now for the hardest part. Hank took another breath. “I’m afraid it was homicide, Mr. Bragg.”

The distraught man glared. “Homicide? Are you telling me someone … killed her?”

Hank shook his head and answered in a low voice. “Yes.”

Bragg dropped into the chair, threw his head back, and closed his eyes. He breathed rapidly awhile, then opened his eyes and looked back at Hank, his face twisted in anger. “Who did it? Who killed my … my wife?”

“We don’t know yet, Mr. Bragg. Her body was discovered not long ago, and the investigation has just begun.”

“How did it happen?”

“She was strangled.”

Bragg closed his eyes and whispered, “Strangled.” He took another deep breath and opened his eyes, now alive with fury. He jumped to his feet, gritted his teeth, and peered at Hank. “She never hurt anyone. Never. She was a good person. Who would do this to her?”

“We’re going to do everything in our power to find out, Mr. Bragg.” Hank cleared his throat. “The park where your wife was found is two miles north of here. Would she have been in that area last night?”

Bragg shook his head adamantly. “No. She works two blocks away, and she always comes straight home after work at nine o’clock.”

“Where does she work?”

“At a dump called Phil’s Burgers & Booze.” He pointed. “Two blocks from here. She always walks to work and back.”

Hank had his notepad out, and he jotted the name of the restaurant down, then took a deep breath. Now for the uncomfortable question. “Where were you last night, Mr. Bragg?”

“I was here. I got home at six. I had a little snack and waited for my wife.”

Hank made another notation, then asked, “Did you see anyone during that time?”

Bragg frowned. “Are you suggesting I had something to do with this?”

Hank shook his head. “I have to fill in the pieces. It helps me get a complete picture.”

Bragg seemed satisfied and sat back, fidgeting with his hands. He took a deep breath and let out a lot of long sighs. Suddenly, he asked, “Where is she? Where’s my wife?”

“The medical examiner’s taking care of her,” Hank said. “We’ll need you to identify her for the record.”

Bragg nodded. “I guess I should let you know,” he said. “When the police wouldn’t do anything this morning to find my wife, I hired some private investigators to see if they could find her.”

Hank’s eyes widened. “If you want to give me their names, I’ll contact them to see if they came up with anything.”

“Lincoln Investigations,” Bragg said. “I’ll call them now. I’d better let them know about my wife, and that you’re here.”

A faint smile touched Hank’s lips. That was good news. There were a few so-called private investigators in the area, and Hank was pleased Bragg had chosen the best. And of course, the fact he and the Lincolns were good friends was a bonus.

Chapter 8

Tuesday, 1:11 p.m.

JAKE SAT IN the office, leaning forward in the guest chair, his eyes glued to the monitor as Annie fast-forwarded through the video they’d gotten from Phil’s. She paused it each time a face appeared on the screen, took a screenshot, and continued on.

A couple of dozen people had visited the restaurant during the time period they were interested in. Some of them came alone, or in pairs, and though Jake suspected they were looking for a single man, Annie painstakingly captured a close-up of them all. She would print them out later, and he suspected, as she did, that one of them could be the person they were looking for.

Jake turned his eyes away from the monitor, sat back in his chair, and answered his ringing cell phone. It was Edgar Bragg, and his voice sounded breathless.

“It’s Bragg,” Jake whispered to Annie, covering the phone.

Annie paused the video and turned in her chair to face Jake as he put the phone on speaker. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open, as the distraught man explained about the murder of his wife and how the body had been found.

Jake was at a loss for words, taken aback by the unexpected news. He expressed his sympathy to the grieving man, adding, “Annie and I will be right over. Ask Detective Corning to wait. We have something that might be of interest to him.”

After hanging up, he slouched back in his chair, let out a long breath, and looked at Annie. They stared speechless at one another for a moment, until finally, Annie sighed and spoke in a soft voice. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nor I,” Jake said. “And now we’re looking for a murderer, not just a kidnapper.” He pointed to the computer. “Maybe you should make a copy of the video for Hank. He’ll wanna take a look.”

Annie nodded and turned back to the computer. She duplicated the video onto a second flash drive and handed it to Jake. He dropped it into his shirt pocket and stood.

Annie grabbed her handbag from the kitchen and met Jake outside, and a few minutes later, Jake wheeled the Firebird into the parking lot of Edgar Bragg’s apartment building. He pulled in beside Hank’s Chevy and they stepped out.

Bragg buzzed them in, and when they reached the second floor, Hank met them in the hallway outside the stairwell. He greeted them with a grim nod and filled them in on the details of the horrific murder, outlining what he knew so far. Annie was visibly shaken, and Jake knew she’d be determined to find the person responsible.

“I haven’t given Mr. Bragg all the details yet,” Hank said, heading down the hallway toward the apartment. “He appears on the edge of a breakdown now, and I’m afraid the gruesome details might be too much for him.”

When they stepped inside the apartment, Bragg was waiting for them, a somber look on his face. His eyes drooped more than before, and his shoulders hunched forward, his whole body showing the heartbreak he felt. He motioned them into the living room.

Jake leaned against the door frame while Hank and Annie sat on the couch. Bragg dropped wearily into a chair and leaned forward, his hands working nervously.

Hank cleared his throat and broke the mournful silence, turning to Jake. “You said you have something for me?”

Jake dug out the drive and tossed it to Hank. “I’m not sure how helpful it might be, but it’s a video of everyone who visited Phil’s around the time period in question.”

“You think he might’ve been stalking her?” Bragg asked, his brow taking on a deep frown.

“It’s possible,” Jake said. “Right now we have to look at all possibilities.”

“Without a motive, it’s hard to tell,” Hank added. “She might’ve been picked at random, or she might’ve been targeted. That’s what I intend to find out.”

Annie turned to Bragg. “We’ll need to print out a close-up shot of everyone on the video, then you can take a look and see if you recognize anyone.”

Hank spoke. “Until then, do you have any idea who might’ve wanted to harm your wife?”

Bragg shook his head slowly, back and forth, his eyes showing his mind at work. Finally, he answered, “I can’t think of anyone at all.”

“Anyone suspicious you might’ve seen hanging around recently?” Hank asked.

Bragg shook his head again. “No. No one I can think of.”

Hank turned to Annie. “Have you gone over this video?”

“Yes, but they’re all random faces to me. And nothing appears out of the ordinary.”

Hank nodded, snapped open his briefcase, and put the drive inside. “I’ll have to visit Phil’s. Circumstances have … changed drastically since you were there.”

“There’s one thing we know for sure,” Jake said. “The killer would’ve had a vehicle. Mrs. Bragg was abducted near Phil’s and taken to the park.”

“Yes, but not until the next morning,” Hank said. “So the question is, where was she in the meantime?”

Jake glanced over at Bragg. The man had a renewed look of anguish on his face, probably due to the realization of what his wife might’ve endured before her death. The thought filled Jake with dread as well, and he vowed to himself to do whatever it took to find out who was responsible for such a heinous murder.

“I talked to Olivia’s friend, Jasmine Hyde,” Annie said to Bragg. “She hasn’t seen your wife for some time.”

“We’ve been keeping rather busy,” Bragg said. “We haven’t had much time for a social life. We’re saving to buy a house.” He dropped his head and remained silent awhile. When he raised his head, his eyes were moist, and he glanced around the apartment. Jake knew the man was envisioning a life without his wife.

Hank picked up his briefcase and stood. “I want you to know, Mr. Bragg, finding out who’s responsible is my priority.”

As Jake and Annie turned to leave, Bragg shook Jake’s hand and asked, “I hope you two will continue helping out?”

“We will,” Jake said.

“If you need more money—”

“We have enough for now.”

Bragg nodded and followed them to the door, turning to Hank as they stepped into the hallway. “Please let me know what you find, Detective Corning.”

“I will,” Hank said and the door closed behind them.

They made their way in silence out to the parking lot, where Jake leaned against Hank’s car and turned to the cop. “Do you have any leads to follow?”

“Just the video,” Hank said. “With Phil’s help, I intend to identify whoever I can from the recording, then between King and me, we’ll make some visits and see what turns up.”

“We’ll take another look at the video as well,” Annie said. “Things have changed, and it’s about all we have right now.”

Hank nodded, got into his car, and started the engine. He rolled down the window. “I’ll let you guys know if I find out anything useful.” He waved a hand and pulled from the lot.

Chapter 9

Tuesday, 2:28 p.m.

WHEN HANK ARRIVED back at the precinct, he set his briefcase beside his chair and went directly to Callaway’s desk. The young cop was the go-to guy for any computer-related issues, the absolute whiz everyone turned to when they needed something technical done, and done fast.