“Did Christian know it?”
“I mentioned it to him in passing that afternoon.”
“Lauren, did he ask you about it, or did you bring it up?”
“Let me think a second…he mentioned it, why?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Sean! Please, for Christ-sakes, come on! Drop it, okay? I trust Christian with my life! You’re way off base.”
“You’re right! I was way off base because Christian helped point me there. He pointed me in the direction of Russo, and he did it very well. Maybe because of the deadline in the race to save Charlie Williams, I didn’t see it. Maybe, like you, I had no reason not to trust an FBI agent.”
“No!”
“I’ll call you back.” O’Brien hung up and began looking through Alexandria‘s file. He started to glance at his watch to see the number of hours left for Charlie Williams, instead he poured through the files in front of him. Where did he see or hear something that was incongruous with the timelines of Alexandria Cole’s murder and Charlie William’s sentencing? He closed his eyes and let the slate go black in his mind.
Think.
Max sat at his feet and looked up at him.
When O’Brien had originally questioned Russo and Sergio Conti, it was a time when Russo had already been arraigned on a drug charge. And his trial was not even on the radar.
“As we were about to drop the hammer on a big bust, it looks in retrospect, that he may have killed the girl the same night.”
The words played back in O’Brien’s mind. He could see Christian Manerou standing in Lauren Miles cubicle, quoting Russo’s alibi: “ Ate them from his penthouse balcony and tossed the shells down to the beach below them. Called it ‘raining crabs.’”
O’Brien leafed through the case files, found the spot and read:
Subject, Jonathan Russo stated he had dinner on the terrace of subject Sergio Conti’s condo and said they picked up a jug of chardonnay, a few pounds of stone crabs from the marina, ate them from his penthouse balcony, and tossed the shells down to the beach below them. Called it ‘raining crabs.
O’Brien looked at the dates. Alexandria Cole’s murder was Friday, June 17th, 1999. He went online, typing fast. In a few seconds the arrest records of Jonathan Russo were on the screen. O’Brien scanned the information and stopped at the dates of Russo’s arrest for possession of contraband-cocaine-more than two kilos with the intent to distribute in the United States of America. The date of the arrest: May 3, 1999.
Why was the FBI doing a wiretap after Russo was arrested and booked?
“As we were about to drop the hammer on a big bust, it looks in retrospect, that he may have killed the girl the same night.”
O’Brien leaned back and his chair and whispered, “You didn’t tie the wiretap alibi to Alexandria Cole’s murder because you never heard it…you read it. You weren’t about to drop the hammer. You didn’t hear Russo’s statement in a wiretap. You read it my report. You bastard!”
EIGHTY-EIGHT
O’Brien called Lauren Miles. He said, “Lauren-”
“Sean,” she was almost breathless. “I hope this isn’t about Christian. He’s gone out of his way to help me on things time and time again. I trust that man. You will, too. I called you because I just heard from Simon Thomas. He had some luck with Spelling’s letter. He managed to make out another line before it faded into oblivion. Spelling wrote: ‘ Later I hid the knife in St. Augustine on Tranquility Trail…at my mother’s…’ At that point, Sean, the print was no longer detectible. When Simon called, I conferenced Christian in on the call.”
“What! Why?”
“Because he’d offered to help you! I’ll prove to you how far off base you are. Also, in view of your short time window, it was generous of him to offer and for Mike Chambers to authorize. As a matter of fact, Christian’s in Lakeland doing a deposition, and said he’d head over to St. Augustine for you.”
“He’s here because he just killed a woman! If Sam Spelling’s mother is there, he’ll kill her to get the knife.”
“Sean! Have you been drinking?”
“Christian didn’t hear Russo’s alibi with Sergio Conti in a wiretap. He read it in my case report.”
“What?”
“Listen to me! Since the cases, the murder of Alexandria and the drug bust of Russo overlapped, Christian, or the DEA, pulled information from my files, probably to add to whatever they had on Russo. But the bust and arrest of Russo happened more than a month before Alexandria’s murder. Christian was investigating Russo close enough to know of Russo’s associates and employees…and Alexandria. She was one of the most beautiful women in the world. He knew she was heavy into coke, threatened to arrest her and ruin her career unless she had sex with him.”
“Sean, you’re accusing a respected FBI special agent of having an affair with a subject he was investigating. That’s a very serious.”
“So is murder. Two kilos of heroin, drugs found in the coke bust, were stolen.”
“What’s that have to do with Christian?”
“He took it, or he took some of it. Alexandria was addicted to heroin and I think it was because Christian forced the poison into her. Did it enough and she was addicted.”
“I can’t believe you seriously think Christian hooked a supermodel on heroin.”
“Hooked her, sexually took advantage of her, and killed her.”
“Sean! Enough! I can’t allow you to ruin this man’s career on speculation.”
“Manerou was near Ocala silencing the last living witness that could tie him to Alexandria’s murder, the wife of the D.O.C. guard. The same guard that Manerou killed the day he murdered Spelling and Father Callahan.”
“No! I can’t believe this.”
“It’s true. If he hasn’t tossed it, look for a ski mask in his car. Go to his house. See if he owns an all black suit, something like a priest might wear. If it hasn’t been cleaned, see if there’s any blood, hair, or fibers that will tie him to the three vics he killed in one night last week. Also, pull some hair out of a brush, get his damn toothbrush. I don’t care what you use just get-”
“Sean-”
“Was Manerou in the service? The military?”
“Army, I believe. Why?”
“Check his records. See if he went to sniper school.”
“Why?”
“Only somebody with an expert rating could have shot Spelling like he did.”
“Sean, you need to-”
“The name-Manerou-what’s that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nationally!”
“Probably French or Greek. Why?”
“Where was Manerou born?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you at a computer?”
“Yes, why?”
“Go in the FBI’s bio on its agents. Wherever it is you people keep that and see where he was born.” O’Brien paced inside his boat. Max watched him.
There was an audible exhalation and she said, “Give me a minute.”
O’Brien could hear her fingernails hitting the keys, then a long moment of silence. Lauren’s voice dropped to above a whisper. “He was born in Greece. On the island of Patmos…that’s the same place you mentioned, Sean…oh my God…”
EIGHTY-NINE
O’Brien called Detective Dan Grant. “Dan, FBI got a better read on part of the letter that Sam Spelling left behind. Spelling may have left the knife that killed Alexandria Cole at his mother’s house. Tranquility Trail, St. Augustine.”
“I’ll see if I can get a search warrant.”
“You don’t have time!”
“Judge Franklin will sign it. His house isn’t far from-”
“Dan, you don’t have time. An FBI agent, Christian Manerou, killed Alexandria. And he killed Sam Spelling, Johnson, Johnson’s wife, and Father Callahan. He knows Spelling’s mother’s address. You’re closer to St. Augustine than I am. Take back-up with you. Go!”
O’Brien called Tucker Houston. “Tucker, FBI managed to pull an address from the sheet of paper under the letter Sam Spelling wrote. It’s his mother’s address in St. Augustine. The knife is probably there.”