Identity (9 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Tom and Steve pulled up in front of Carole's bungalow. It was almost noon; several hours past the time Tom had expected to be there.  As they rang the buzzer, Steve stood to the right behind Tom.

"It's about time." Carole backed up and opened the door wider.  The cold wind rushed in.

"Been busy.  Carole, this is Steve Harrington, my partner.  Steve, Carole Underwood.”

"Quickly, come in...it's cold out there."

Both men entered the alcove behind Carole stomping their feet on the floor mat to shake off the sidewalk slush. 

"Just hang your coats on the rack.  Tom, you'll find Sam in the living room.  She's very fragile.

"Steve how about helping me in the kitchen so Tom can have some private time with Sam. Let's get some lunch together.  My stomach is already growling."

"Woman after my heart.  Donuts go only so far."

Tom stopped at the living room entryway. He saw Sam curled up in the oversized lounge chair, looking like a little-lost child. The scene tugged at his heart.  He felt an overwhelming need to comfort her in his arms.

"Sam." Tom softly whispered.

Sam looked up and tried to give a haft-hearted smile.  "Hi." Sam replied softly.

Tom pulled up a side chair next to Sam.

"Sam, Carole said you had a rough night."

"I SKYPED with Dr. Kalish this morning."

"That's good.  Did he help you?"

"He always does.  I'm afraid to tell you.  I feel so dirty."

"Sam, you didn't do anything wrong."

***

In the kitchen, Carole and Steve worked in an unforeseen unison.  At first, the conversation between the two ranged from getting to know each other to the preparations of lunch.  It wasn't long before it changed.

"So, how do you think things are going in there?"

"Well, Tom was on line with Morris Hospital this morning.  It took some time to get to the right person, but he ascertained that Sam had long red hair before they shaved her head.  The victimology is the same for all three women...age between 30-40, red-hair, and no known relatives to report them missing.  What is Sam going to tell Tom?"

"Let's say it isn't pleasant."

Steve knitted his brow as a looked at Carole.

"It seems she remembers that the abuse happened over several days. The culmination was the rape."

"There was no sign of rape according to the medical reports."

"It wasn't a standard rape if you can call rape standard."

Again, Steve had a questioning look at Carole.

"He used the back door."

"Oh God, what a sicko!" Steve's eyes turned to the living room.

"I think they had enough time.  Let's take this spread in."

Carole set the sandwich tray down on the dining room table while Steve carried in the coffee pot.

"Hey, you two come in and get the feed bag on." Carole called.

Tom had his arm around Sam's waist as he supported her walk to the table.

The lunchtime conversation stared out discussing the recent snowfall and the clearing of the Chicago streets; a time honored tradition among Chicago residents.  As the meal progressed, Carole felt that sufficient conversation had taken place to address the elephant in the room.

"So Tom, what do you think about the connection between Sam's name and the book's heroine?"

Carole wondered if it was too soon to bring up the topic, but it was too late. Carole looked at Sam who kept staring down at her plate.

"It tells a lot really.  It narrows our scope of investigation to Robinson—Williams Publishing."

"How's that?"

"Well, I can't say exactly right now.  From what Sam says, the book was just released in January.  That means for Sam to have been familiar of the heroine she probably had seen the book before it was released."

"Does that mean Sam is in danger working there?"

"Let's say that it not a healthy environment for her."

Carole turned to Sam who was now pushing her plate to the side, indicating that she was through with eating. 

"Sam, you're not going back!"

Sam looked up from the table and turned to Carole.   "I'm not a hero, but wouldn't it be easier if I were there? Maybe I can find something out.  What about that Rizzo guy?"

Tom gave a little snicker.  "I don't think he's the problem."

Sam gave him a questioning look. "Why?"

"It seems Mr. Rizzo is still in the closet."

"Really?"  Sam face showed a stunned look.

"I guess some would prefer to keep their private life private."

"But, he had all the women falling all over him."

"An act.  And, I might add a very good one."

As they finished up, Steve looked at his watch, signaling to Tom that they better be on their way.  They scheduled a meeting with the medical examiner at 2:30.

Inside the car, Steve asked, "So Tom, what's up between you and Sam?"

"Nothing at present. You know I don't get personal with victims.  With Sam it’s just different."

"What do you know about Carole?"

"Interested?"

Steve decided not to answer the question and switched to the police band to listen to the various incoming calls for their remaining ride to the Corner's Office.

Although they had an appointment with the corner, the medical examiner they needed to talk to was in the middle of an autopsy.  An assistant greeted them and handed Tom the report on the lakefront victim.  Tom scanned through the report and handed it to Steve.

"Looks like our perp followed the same pattern as the Kane County victim."   

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Against Carole's wishes Sam reported to work Wednesday morning.  As she entered the elevator the wisp of men’s cologne again assaulted her nostrils.  Her eyes searched her fellow passengers for the man wearing the scent.  Unfortunately, the car contained only women.  The scent lingered from a previous rider.

Once she arrived at her workstation Alice greeted her.

"So?"

"What?"

"Did you get a chance to read the book I gave you?"

"I started, but I had some personal things I had to get done.  I'll try to get back to it later this week."

"Yea, but did you see your name in the book?"

"Yes, but if you look on the Internet, it isn't an uncommon.  Evidently, the author must have thought it was a good name."

"Whatever." 

Feeling let down by Sam's response, Alice turned to her computer and started entering data.

By noon, Alice seemed to put her disappointment aside and reminded Sam that it was time for a lunch break.  In the lunchroom, Sam and Alice took a table where they could see who came in out of the lunchroom.  Mike Rizzo entered the room and headed straight for a table with a group of junior editors.

"I see he's at it again," Alice remarked.

"Oh, I don't know; he seems harmless."

"Sam, I don't believe you.  He's such a leech."

One of Alice's friends stopped by and interrupted them.

"The police are here again."

***

In his tenth floor office, Rodney sat in his chair looking at the lakefront.  As he peered down, he smiled as he thought of the naked victim who was, he was sure, baffling the detectives.

Mrs. Green knocked and waited outside for Rodney to acknowledge her presence.  Once inside Mrs. Green announced that Paul Hendrix was waiting to see him.

"Thank you Mrs. Green, show him in."

"Rodney glad you back. Did you enjoy your trip?"

"It was a short getaway, but I was really lucky. I got out before the storm."

"The city never sleeps even in snow storm. Did you hear about the naked dead woman found on the lakefront?"

"No.  And that concerns us because?"

"I'm not sure how it 's connected to our missing employee.  But, the police are here again.  I think it's best that we just cooperate and get them out of the building as quickly as possible.  We don't want any bad publicity before the spring releases."

"I agree.  By the way, how is Sarah's estate coming along?"

"We still have several tax implications to resolve."

"Well, I hope you get them resolved soon.  I have to know exactly what funds I have to work with."

"I understand.  I'll get back to you when I have a more definitive answer." 

Paul left the office, and Rodney turned his back and gazed out his window towards Lincoln Park.

An hour had passed when Mrs. Green repeated the ritual of knocking before entering Rodney's sanctum.

"Yes, Mrs. Green," practically shouting in response to the knock.  Mrs. Green peeked her head in and in a low voice addressed her boss.

"There's a Tom Cassel, a detective from CPD, who would like to talk to you."

"Give me five and then let him in."  Rodney opened his laptop, signed on.  To look busy, he spread some papers around his desk.

After five minutes Mrs. Green opened the door letting Tom enter the office.

"Mr. Williams, Tom Cassel from the Chicago Police Department."

"Come in Detective Cassel. Have a seat.  Is there something I can help you with?"

"I just wanted to thank you for letting us interview some of your employees."

"That's quite all right."

"You really have a big operation here."

"I do.  I can't take credit for it all.  My father and my wife's father built the business."

"Does your wife work here?"

"She did.  She was the CEO until she died last year in a car accident."

"Oh, I'm sorry to here that."

"Yes, it was tragic.  Fortunately, we are a privately owned company so we didn't suffer from any financial losses."

Tom's detective sensed that this man wasn't entirely remorseful about the loss of his wife.

"Again, thank you Mr. Williams for the cooperation your company extended the CPD." 

“Any time.”

Both men stood up and extended their hands to signal the end of the meeting.    Rodney walked Tom to the door.   At the doorway, Rodney directed Mrs. Green that he didn't wish to be interrupted. 

Rodney closed the door and returned to his desk.  He returned to the opened computer and went immediately to a locked folder.  Once he entered his password, a list of JPEG's came up. He smiled as he viewed his recent additions.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tom and Steve had developed a white board on the wall of the precinct.  There were three victims listed; each had their own column. Other detectives looked as Tom entered the stats.  When the facts were written on the board, obviously two victims crossed the path of the Robinson—Williams company.  The two victims were red heads, age approximately 30-40, no known relatives.  Raped was a question mark. Tom had the morgues provide pictures of each of the victims. Each photo was placed under the correct column.  He wanted to make it personal. 

"What did you think of the Williams?"

"Strange dude.  He was definitely disconnected from the death of his wife."

"Anyway, when I talked to one of the lawyers, he said that all employees who have access to an unreleased book have to sign a confidentiality statement.  If they are found releasing any information, they are subject to heavy fines and dismissal."

"Anything else?"

"Yea, but you are not going to like it."

"It seems that, J.J. Brown, was a first time author.  The accounting department has been holding all royalty checks since December.  Ms. Brown told them she would give them an address where to forward them. No forwarding address yet."

"So, she's missing?"

"Appears to be."

The Captain came by and shook his head as he looked at the white board. "You don't have much on our Victim 3.  You have 72 hours.  If there is no new evidence on Victim 3, this case goes cold.  We always have a new murder to investigate." He walked away.

"Shit! Tom said under his breath.

"Okay, can you find out more about J.J. Brown?"

"I'm on it.  What about Sam?"

"Going to take her shopping tomorrow."

"What?"

"That men's cologne she keeps relating to may be a clue.  When I interviewed Rizzo he was flattered that a cop was complimenting him on his choice of cologne.  He was nearly shitting in his pants when he said it's an exclusive at Frankie’s Emporium down on Wells."

"I hope that pans out.  We certainly don't have much. I'll let you know what I find out about Brown."

Tom shuffled through his paperwork.  He called Kane County Sheriff's Department to see whether they had any leads on their victim. They reported that they had contacted authorities in Iowa and were awaiting the dental records for Nancy Hughes.  His call to Grundy County Sheriff's department yielded no new information about Samantha.

***

Early the next morning Tom pulled up in front of Carole's bungalow. After ringing the doorbell, Carole greeted him.

"Tom, we weren't expecting you."

"I'm sorry.  I don't want Sam to go into work today."

"Is there something new?"

"Well, I'm taking Sam shopping."

"I don't understand?"

"Just following a lead."

Carole turned and saw that Sam was coming to the door ready to head off to work.

"No work today.  Give 'em call and let them know you won't be in."

"Tom, what's up?" Sam asked.

"Going shopping."

"What?"

"You'll see."

Ten minutes later, Tom and Sam headed for the Red Line leaving Tom’s car parked in front of Carole’s bungalow.

As the walked, Sam asked, "Do you want to tell me about what were shopping for?"

"I need a new dress shirt."

Sam looked him strangely. She wondered why he needed her for such a task. It was a short ride to the Wells Street Station.  When they disembarked the train, Tom held Sam's hand as they maneuvered down the slippery metal staircase.  As they walked down the sidewalk, Tom didn't release his grip.  After a few minutes, they arrived at Frankie’s Emporium.  They both looked in the window. The labels under each of the mannequins indicated that this store carried exclusive men's clothing.  When they entered the store, they were immediately accosted by a slick sales clerk attired in a tailored suit and white shirt and tie.  

The clerk eyed the suspiciously, "How can I help you today?”

Tom dropped Sam's hand to talk to the sales clerk. Sam walked over to the sweater table and fingered the softness of the cashmere sweaters.  Although not watching, she could hear Tom as he discussed what he was looking for.  The sales clerk brought Tom to a counter were stacks of dress shirts were displayed.  The clerk sorted through the shirts and handed Tom a shirt in the size Tom requested.  Tom didn't hesitate as he took it from the clerk's hand.

"I'll take it."

The clerk took a step back, and he realized he had made a really quick sale.  He snatched the shirt back and went to the cashier station.  Sam turned to join Tom at the counter.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Tom paused a moment and replied, "Yes, a friend of mine said you have a cologne exclusive to your store and I might be interested in."

"Yes, yes, we have
Hominis Hominis
. We import exclusively from Italy. It is very expensive.  Here is a sniff card to see if you would like it." 

The clerk presented Tom with an advertisement card with the men's scent on it. When the edge was peeled back, the scent was ready for sampling. Tom peeled back the edge. The smell was very strong.  Tom turned to Sam so she could have a sniff.  He watched Sam eyes widened as the fragrance assaulted her senses.  She made no comment.  She quickly walked away to distance herself from the two men and stood by the entrance. 

"Do you sell a lot of this?"

"It is exclusive to your store. We have about 100 clients we cater that use this fragrance.”

"That many?"

"As I said, not everyone can afford it. Would you like a bottle?"

"How much?"

"$235.00 for 1.7 oz. Eau De Parfum Spray”

“I think I'll pass.  Thank you anyway."

Tom could see the clerk was disappointed as he turned to write up the sale slip.  When he finished, he handed it to Tom.  Tom reviewed the bill...$129.60.  Tom handed the clerk his credit card.  When the transaction was complete, Sam and Tom left the store.

One hundred clients were too big of a net to cast. Tom had hoped that the net would have been much smaller.