“I don’t want details myself,” she replied, “but details are my job.”
“Details were always what made my work fun,” Teddy said, then he realized he was talking about his career at the CIA and stopped talking.
“Go on.”
“I was just going to say that when you’re inventing gadgets, everything is in the details.” He held up a plastic frame with a blade in it. “Like this potato slicer,” he said. “It would have cost too much to make the blade adjustable, so I had to cook a lot of potatoes to get the slicing thickness just right.”
“A crime scene is nothing but details,” Lauren said. “I just can’t imagine how murders got solved fifty years ago before gunshot residue and knife blade matching and DNA came along.”
“Isn’t that when the cops just beat confessions out of the suspect?”
“Wash your mouth out with soap,” she said. “Well, maybe, but we don’t do that.”
“But the Supreme Court says you can lie about evidence to the suspect, in order to get a confession.”
“That’s not twisting science,” she said, “it’s using human nature against him. If the guy is already feeling guilty and he thinks you’ve got him, likely as not he’ll spill the beans with a video camera running.”
“I heartily approve of that technique,” Teddy said. “I don’t know how any murderer can think he’ll get away with it these days, what with all the science involved, all the ways he can get caught.”
“Somebody like Bruno,” Lauren said, “who has police training, has an advantage. He knows what we’ll look for, and he works at not leaving any evidence. He uses condoms, so that he won’t leave his DNA; he wears latex gloves…”
“I get the picture,” Teddy said. “But I’ll bet that if he has a cut tire, he doesn’t know it.”
“We didn’t get tire tracks at any of the other scenes,” Lauren said, “just this one.”
“Maybe he cut his tire since the last murder, ran over something sharp.”
“Maybe.” She took out the phone. “Excuse me a minute. I just thought of something.” She selected a number from her phone’s address book.
“Hello?”
“Jimmy, it’s Lauren Cade.”
“Hey, Lauren.”
“There’s something you could do that would be a big help,” she said.
“Sure, anything I can do.”
“Can you check the right tires on Bruno’s cruiser for cuts?”
“What are you looking for?”
“A cut across the tread. I checked his car at his house today but couldn’t see anything; it might have been parked with the cut on the ground.”
“I get you,” he said. “Sure, I’ll check the car every chance I get. You’re sure it’s on the right side?”
“I think so. You can check all four.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Jimmy.” She hung up.
“That was Detective Weathers?” Teddy asked.
“Yes. He’s going to check Bruno’s tires for me.”
“And if you find a cut, you can get a warrant?”
“Maybe. Then, if we can match the cut in the tread to the cast we took, we’ll have some material evidence.”
“I’ll be the first to congratulate you,” Teddy said, slicing and serving the meat loaf before adding mashed potatoes and beans to the plates. Then he put them on the table, and they sat down to eat.
“I fantasize about searching Bruno’s house and finding the panties,” she said.
“What panties?”
“Oh, I guess I didn’t tell you,” Lauren said. “He keeps his victim’s panties-at least, we’ve never found any at the crime scenes.”
34
Lauren Cade was at her desk the following morning when her phone rang. “Detective Cade,” she said.
“Lauren, it’s Jimmy Weathers.”
“Hey, Jimmy.”
“I checked Bruno’s tires this morning, and there’s a cut on the right front one. It’s deep, wedge-shaped and crosses about three-quarters of the tread.”
“Jimmy, I love you,” Lauren nearly shouted. “Tell me you didn’t manipulate the car in any way.”
“I didn’t touch it. The wheels were sharply turned to the left, and the cut was visible to any passerby. You shouldn’t have any trouble with the warrant.”
“Thank you, Jimmy! I’ve got to go see Hurd now.” She hung up and hurried down the hall to Hurd Wallace’s office, smiling.
“What?” Hurd said when he saw her face.
“Jimmy Weathers found a cut on the right front tire of Bruno’s car. He described it, and it sounds identical to the one we’ve got the cast of.”
“That’s great news,” Hurd said, picking up the phone and buzzing his secretary, Shirley Medved. “Shirley, call Judge Landry and get me an immediate appointment. Tell him it’s for a search warrant in an important case.” He hung up. “Here’s how we handle this,” he said to Lauren. “We tow the car to a garage of our choice, and we go over the whole thing with a fine-toothed comb. The DA is going to want more than the tire cut to ask for an indictment.”
“Maybe we’ll find the panties in the car,” Lauren said.
“DNA from the panties would guarantee a conviction,” Hurd said, “though I’m not going to get my hopes up about that. Bruno is too smart to keep something like that in his car; if he has them, he’ll have thought of a better hiding place.”
The phone rang, and Hurd picked it up. “Yes? Thank you, Shirley.” He hung up. “We can’t see the judge until four o’clock this afternoon. He’s in court nonstop until then.”
“Oh, God,” Lauren said. “I’ll be on pins and needles until then.”
Lauren sat in her car outside the courthouse and waited impatiently for Hurd’s return. She felt an excitement she had never felt before; her stomach churned, and her knees were weak. She looked up to see Hurd coming down the courthouse steps.
Hurd got into the car and held up a warrant. “Got it,” he said and gave her a rare smile. He got out his cell phone and punched in a number. “Fred? It’s Hurd Wallace; I need an immediate tow, a flatbedder. Right, meet me at the Orchid Beach police station parking lot as soon as you can get there. We’ll be going back to your garage.” He hung up. “Let’s go.”
Lauren drove quickly to the police station, resisting the temptation to use her lights and siren. She pulled into the parking lot. Bruno’s cruiser was in his labeled parking space. “There it is,” she said. “And here comes the tow truck.”
“You want to serve the warrant?” Hurd asked.
“No, I’m too nervous; you do it, please.”
Hurd got out of the car and walked into the police station through the back door. He was gone for no more than a minute, then he returned. Jim Bruno came out the back door and stood at the top of the steps, watching.
“Fred, there’s the car,” Hurd said. “The keys are in it.”
“You want to drive it, then?” Fred asked.
“No, I don’t want to take any chances.”
Hurd and Lauren watched Fred go through the motions with practiced ease. In five minutes, he had the car on his flatbed.
Lauren and Hurd got back into the car and followed the tow truck. Hurd got on the phone and reached the unit criminalist and gave him directions to the garage.
“How did Bruno react?” Lauren asked.
“With astonishment,” Hurd replied. “I mean, he really looked amazed. He demanded to know the reason for the warrant, and I refused to tell him. I told him the car was material to an investigation that’s under way.”
“Now I wish I had served it,” Lauren said.
“It’s better that I did it,” Hurd replied. “We don’t want him to try and make a case for harassment because of your past dealings with him.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Lauren said.
The tow truck pulled into the garage. Fred unloaded it and drove it into an empty bay, then raised the hoist.
“Lift it so that the tires are at eye level,” Hurd said to him.