“But do you think he might be involved in the killings?” Winter asked.
“All I know is that Bennett accused Amber of embezzlement and swore out a warrant after she'd been his special friend for years.”
“But why would Kimberly Porter handle a case of embezzlement?” Nicky asked.
Winter said, “I thought her practice these days was strictly appeals for death penalty cases. That was her area of expertise.”
“As far as I could tell from her papers, Porter was focusing strictly on capital cases. Her assistant told me that there was a woman who'd called the office and claimed to have proof that one of the men on death row was innocent. If Kimberly knew which inmate, she didn't tell her assistant. It is possible that Amber Lee had that information and that might be why they were both killed. Amber might have had information on any of the eleven guys on death row Porter represented.”
“What did Suggs say when you told him that Kimberly was Millie Trammel's sister?”
Manseur exhaled loudly. “I didn't tell him. I couldn't risk him handing the case to the detectives he already gave the Porter one to. I'm pretty sure he wants to control the Porter case, and if he believes they're connected he sure as hell won't want me running this one into that one.”
“You think whoever killed Kimberly ran the Trammels over?”
“Don't you?” Manseur asked bluntly.
“Of course I do. But what I think isn't proof. Faith Ann telephoned my son the afternoon Kimberly was shot. She was trying to find Hank and Millie. Sean told her that they were staying at a guesthouse near Audubon Park, but not which one.”
“She found it,” Manseur said grimly. “And the clerk there told her where they went to eat. I believe she saw the hit-and-run, because people saw her there. A doctor on the scene said she had on a yellow poncho and she seemed upset.” He looked at Nicky. “Did you see Faith Ann there?”
“I saw a kid in a yellow slicker,” Nicky admitted. “It could have been her. Might be I just think it is, now that I've seen a picture of her.”
“I am sure it was her,” Manseur said. “I put in my notes only that there was a child in a slicker who went to both the guesthouse and the scene of the hit-and-run, and perhaps she might be related to the Trammels. The doctor on the scene thought the child was male. The clerk swore it was a girl, but he didn't get her name.”
“Where's your investigation now?” Winter asked.
“A fisherman found the Rover, which was stolen from a long-term lot at the airport. There was a body in it that someone tried their best to burn. Fortunately they pushed it into a shallow bayou. I'm hoping they miscalculated how long or how hot the fire needed to be to completely destroy identifiable features. I'm betting it's either a hired killer, who was killed to make sure his employer never got identified, or the killer did in his accomplice for the same reason, or maybe so he wouldn't have to split the fee. I'm hoping the medical examiner can help me figure out whose body it is.”
“You thinking Bennett might have hired it done?” Winter asked quietly.
Manseur shrugged. “I have no reason to talk to Jerry Bennett on the Trammel case. But there's no reason you can't ask questions about either case. Bennett's office is at the River Club, and he's there most of the time. Lives in an apartment on the second floor, and also out on the lakefront in a luxury boathouse.”
Winter said, “If I talked to this Bennett, he might tell someone on the force about it, and Suggs could have the connection between the two cases. Of course, if Suggs did make the connection through Bennett
…”
“Which I think is about the only way he could at this point,” Manseur said, smiling. “I can tell Captain Suggs it's all news to me,” he said. “And he can't prove any differently unless you tell him. If he takes me off the Trammel case, I'll know for sure he's dirty and that Bennett is calling the shots.”
“In which case?” Winter said.
“You could interest the media in both cases. Hand them the right questions to ask. I seriously doubt Bennett owns the media.”
“They sure love to get into the mud,” Nicky said.
Winter smiled. “I like the way you think, Detective. Nicky and I will try to find Faith Ann first. You know why she might be hiding from you?”
Manseur shrugged. “If she has a reason, it might be due to something she saw or heard in the office. She was definitely there around the time her mother was killed. I think she saw it. Suggs thinks she did it. The murder weapon was found in a hamper with her clothes along with the four spent cases. I don't know how the weapon got there, but I'm willing to entertain the idea that it was planted there by the real killer. I had a patrol unit at the Porter house as soon as I could get one there. Faith Ann was already gone. As far as I know the patrolmen were there until the detectives took over the scene. The detectives found the weapon.”
“You think the detectives could have planted the gun?” Winter asked.
“I suppose it's possible the killer beat us there and did it. Or maybe he dropped it at the crime scene, and the girl picked it up. It doesn't mean she used it. Who knows what a twelve-year-old thinks.”
Manseur reached into his pocket and removed a clear plastic evidence bag. “One more thing that might be significant,” he said. “I found this in Hank Trammel's hatband. The hat was under a truck.”
“What is it?” Winter said as he reached for the bag.
“It's some sort of a spy bug,” Nicky said.
“Looks like it.” Winter nodded. “Why would this be in Hank's hatband?”
“I've seen some small ones,” Nicky said, “but that critter there sets a new record for compactness. I doubt it has much range.”
“I'm going to have it looked at by a friend who's in the electronics business and see what it's capable of doing. Sometimes he lets me borrow sophisticated devices that the NOPD can't afford.”
Manseur pocketed the plastic bag, stood abruptly, and started for the door.
“I appreciate the information,” Winter said. “More than I can tell you.”
“Based on your reputation as a man who isn't afraid of facing Goliaths, I believe that confiding in you is the right choice-perhaps Faith Ann Porter's only chance of getting cleared. Be careful, Massey. Whoever we're dealing with here won't hesitate to give me more work.”
39
When Captain Harvey Suggs's private line rang, he was clipping his fingernails. He let it ring three times because that was how long it took him to complete the work on his right hand. He lifted the receiver and grunted into it. “Uh-huh.”
“It's J.B.,” the familiar voice said.
Suggs straightened and swept the nail crescents from his lap. He checked the space outside his office door to make sure nobody was within hearing range. “What can I do for you?”
“You can do what you are supposed to do, Harvey.”
“I'm handling that,” Suggs said, trying not to sound irritated, which he was.
“My employees asked me about a cell phone.”
“A cell phone?”
“One registered to the Porter woman. You see, if the phone wasn't at the office, it might still be in family hands.”
Suggs furrowed his brow, thinking. “We're already running all the phone records. I'll get on the cell trace.”
“Would you?” Jerry Bennett's voice had taken on a decidedly hard edge. “She had one. Everybody has one. For Christ's sake, Suggs, what are you doing on this, twiddling your fat thumbs?”
“Just a minute,” Suggs said. He picked up another phone and dialed Tinnerino's cell phone.
“Yeah,” Tinnerino answered.
“Porter's cell phone. You find one?”