The Chill of Night (10 page)

‘Is Kotterman still at the office?’

‘She said she was going home, but we should feel free to call her if there was anything else we needed.’

‘You still have her number?’ asked McCabe.

Cleary wrote it down on a piece of paper. McCabe glanced at it and then crumpled it up. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘The timing’s a gift. It gives us back our chance to check alibis. Whoever killed her had to have grabbed her between the time she left her office on the twenty-third and before she was supposed to get on her flight to Aruba. Did you find out anything about her travel plans?’

Cleary shook his head no.

McCabe turned to Sturgis. ‘Carl, I want you to find out what airport she was leaving from, what flight she was supposed to be on, and if she ever checked in.’

‘Think he might have grabbed her at the airport?’ asked Tasco.

McCabe shrugged. ‘Let’s find out.’

Sturgis didn’t move. McCabe figured it was because, as a senior detective, he resented being asked to do what he considered routine clerical work. Tough shit. A lot of being a detective, senior or not, consisted of nothing more than routine clerical work.

‘Like now, Carl,’ said McCabe.

Sturgis finally nodded, got up, and left. He passed Maggie on his way out the door without saying a word.

‘What got into him?’ she asked.

‘Don’t ask.’

‘Okay.’ Maggie rejoined the others at the table and sat down. ‘Hester doesn’t know anything.’

‘You’re sure.’

‘I’m sure. I poked, I prodded, I pleaded. All he knows is what he told Vodnick down at the pier.’

McCabe filled Maggie in on what she’d missed. After that he sat for a long minute piecing the investigation together in his mind.

Tasco broke the silence. ‘Okay. Where do we go from here?’

‘You’re going to Brackett Street,’ said McCabe. ‘I want you and Brian to round up as many warm bodies as you can. That includes Fraser when he gets here and Bill ’n’ Will when they finish checking out the assault. Split into teams. Make sure everyone has a copy of her Palmer Milliken bio picture and start banging on doors. You know the drill. Start with the other tenants in Goff’s building, then fan out to include surrounding buildings on Brackett and then the neighborhood. Wake people up if you have to. Include any small businesses she may have patronized. Dry cleaners. Convenience stores. Whatever. It’s not that late. Some may still be open.’

Maggie looked at the pictures again. ‘Let’s not ignore the obvious. Goff would’ve attracted men like flies,’ she said. ‘If she had a regular boyfriend, we need to bring him in and grill him. Maybe this whole thing was nothing more than a lovers’ spat that got out of hand.’

‘Doesn’t fit the MO,’ said McCabe. ‘Abusive boyfriends are usually a little more direct in their approach than neat little holes in the back of the neck, and they don’t leave quotations from the Bible. Still, you’re right, we ought to check it out. Tom, see if any of the neighbors can give you names or descriptions of current or former sexual partners.’

‘Could be somebody she dumped recently,’ said Cleary. ‘Somebody who maybe wasn’t too happy about it and decided to take it out on her. We’ll also check to see if anyone other than Goff was seen driving the Beemer. That’s a car people would notice. And remember.’

Tasco’s droopy bloodhound face was looking even more worried than usual. ‘Y’know, we’re not going to be able to cover all this stuff tonight.’

Maybe I should start calling him Deputy Dawg, thought McCabe. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘Just get started and keep at it until something turns up. Also send some of the uniforms to start knocking on doors down at the Fish Pier.’

‘Okay, I’ll have a team take a whack at it,’ said Tasco, ‘but you gotta remember we’re talking about a commercial area here. Empty at this hour. Probably empty when the guy drove in with the body. Could be empty all weekend.’

‘We’re not waiting till Monday,’ said McCabe. ‘This happened in the middle of the city. Someone might’ve been around. Might’ve been watching. Maybe someone with a security camera. Maybe someone who works nights. Aren’t there people working at the Fish Exchange at all hours?’

‘Once upon a time,’ said Cleary. ‘Fishing ain’t what it used to be.’

‘Well, unless and until you have a better idea, let’s see what we can find. I’ll ask Fortier to get you enough people to help knock on doors.’

‘You want me to work the canvass?’ asked Maggie.

‘No. I’d like you to go downstairs and see how Jacobi’s doing cutting Goff out of the Beemer. After she’s on her way to Augusta, I want you to go with the techs to check out her apartment.’

‘Where are you off to?’

‘I’m going to talk to Beth Kotterman. See if I can find out who Goff’s next of kin is. Maybe find out who she palled around with at the office.’ McCabe stood and collected the small pile of printouts. ‘Anybody have anything else?’ He looked at each of his detectives. Nobody responded. ‘Okay. That’s it, then. Call my cell if you find anything meaningful. Otherwise, let’s meet back here tomorrow morning, ten o’clock. And don’t forget what the note said.
All the sinners of my people shall die by the sword.
“All the sinners” sounds like more than one to me. If that’s the case, he could already be looking for a new playmate. Let’s find him before he finds her.’

Seven

McCabe’s footsteps echoed off the marble walls and floor of Ten Monument Square as he walked across the semidarkened lobby toward a circular security desk. A young black man wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a blue blazer watched him approach. The words METCO Security were stitched in gold letters above the blazer’s breast pocket. A gray-haired woman stood at the side of the desk, hands thrust into the pockets of her open wool coat. Under the coat she wore faded blue jeans and a blue U. Maine sweatshirt, clothes thrown on for an unexpected trip to the office. McCabe placed her in her early fifties. She looked anxious.

‘Ms. Kotterman?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I’m Beth Kotterman. You must be Sergeant McCabe?’

‘That’s right. I’m sorry to keep interrupting your Friday night.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Not in a situation like this. Do you know anything more about’ – she paused, searching for the right word – ‘about what happened?’

‘I’d rather talk in your office, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course. Come with me.’

‘Uh, excuse me, sir,’ said the guard, ‘would you mind signing in first?’

‘He’s with me, Randall. He’s a police officer.’

‘Sorry, Ms Kotterman. Police or no police,’ said the guard, ‘he’s still gotta sign in. Rules say everybody signs in. Don’t say “except police.” ’ The guard smiled. He probably didn’t have a lot of opportunities to hassle cops, and he was enjoying the moment.

‘Not a problem,’ said McCabe, returning the smile. ‘Wanna see my ID?’

The guard shrugged. ‘Sure.’

McCabe flipped open his badge wallet, laid it on the desk, picked up the pen and clipboard, and scrawled his name in the first open space, adding the time 10:32
P.M
. in the second. There was a long list of names above his own. He didn’t recognize any except Beth Kotterman’s.

The guard glanced at McCabe’s ID and handed it back. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure. Does everyone who comes into the building also have to sign out?’

‘If they don’t work here, yeah. If they sign in, they sign out.’

‘What about people who do work here?’

‘They only have to sign in or out after 6:00
P.M.’

‘Does everyone show you ID?’

‘Nope. Rules don’t require identification.’

Stupid rules, thought McCabe. Anybody could sign in using any name they wanted. ‘Ms. Kotterman, could you give me a minute just to ask Randall here a couple more questions?’

Kotterman nodded. She obviously wanted to be finished with this, but she said, ‘That’s fine. I’ll be in my office. When you’re ready, ask him to call my extension. I’ll come down and get you.’

The guard eyed McCabe. ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’

‘Just want to ask you a few questions.’

‘I don’t have to answer any questions.’

‘No, I guess you don’t, but I’m pretty sure my friends over at METCO Security would be a whole lot happier with you if you did. Now, what’d you say your last name was?’

‘Jackson. Randall Jackson.’

‘Okay, Randall,’ said McCabe, ‘let me make sure I understand the rules. You said all visitors to the building have to sign in and sign out, but anyone who works here only has to sign in or out after 6:00
P.M
. Is that right?’

‘Yeah. That’s right.’

‘So how do you know who’s who?’

‘Whaddaya mean?’

‘You know everybody who works in the building?’

‘Most of ’em. By face anyway. The ones I don’t know either sign in or show me ID.’

‘Nobody ever slips through without signing?’

The guard studied McCabe for a minute. ‘Not on my watch.’

‘How about anybody else’s watch?’

‘Can’t speak to that.’

‘Is there someone on this desk around the clock?’

‘Yep. Twenty-four seven.’

‘You work alone, or do you have a partner?’

‘During the day there are two of us. At night I’m alone.’

‘Where do you go to take a leak?’

‘There’s a break room in the basement. With a toilet.’

‘So somebody might be able to slip through while you’re taking a leak?’

‘No. That door you used to come into the building? I lock it if I have to go downstairs.’

‘And there are no other ways in?’

‘Not at night. Back door only opens from the inside, and the garage is gated. You need a card key to raise the gate. Only the lawyers have card keys.’

Fairly typical building security. Not bad, but not good enough to keep a determined or clever bad guy from sneaking in. ‘Do you always work this building, or does METCO shift you around?’

‘Usually here. Occasionally I work other buildings. METCO’s got contracts with most of the big buildings in town.’

‘Were you here the night of December twenty-third?’

‘What do you want to know that for?’

‘A minute ago I asked you if anybody ever slips by you without signing in, and you said, “Not on my watch.” I wondered if your watch happened to include the night of the twenty-third.’

‘The twenty-third?’

‘Yes. The twenty-third.’

The guard stared at McCabe. After a long minute he said, ‘That would’ve been the Friday before Christmas?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Yeah, I was here. I worked a double that day. Traded with another guard so I could take Christmas off. Started at 4:00 p.m. Stayed on till eight the next morning.’

‘Long hours.’

‘Yeah, I wanted to be home with my kids on Christmas.’

Okay, he was a dad. Did that make him any more trustworthy? Maybe not. ‘Did you notice anything unusual that day, anything that sticks out in your mind? Think about it.’

Randall thought about it. He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he nodded as if reconstructing the day in his mind. ‘The only thing unusual was all the people who left early ’cause of the holiday. A lot of ’em didn’t come back from lunch. Place was pretty much empty by five o’clock except for the big bosses, who all left together around six, six thirty. Most of ’em seemed pretty happy, gave me something for the holiday. Best as I can remember there were only a couple of late sign-outs. Usually a lot of folks work late.’

‘Who were the late ones that night?’

‘First one was one of the younger lawyers, Miss Goff. Real pretty woman. Fact is, I saw her a couple of times.’

‘When?’

‘First time was around eight o’clock or so. I remember ’cause she wasn’t wearing a coat and it was colder’n –’ Jackson stopped himself.

‘Colder’n shit?’ asked McCabe.

‘Yeah. Colder’n shit. Anyway, she didn’t sign out. She had a Federal Express envelope in her hand and said she’d be right back.’

‘Was she?’

‘Yeah. Two minutes later. Carrying a hot dog from the cart in the square. Must’ve been hungry.’

‘And the second time?’

‘She left for the night about an hour later. Around nine. Stormed out of here like hell wouldn’t have it. Must have been real pissed off about something. Didn’t sign out that time either. I called after her to come back. She just flipped me a bird.’ Randall smiled at the memory. ‘That was one angry lady.’

‘What’d you do?’

‘Nothing. I knew her. It was no big deal. She went out through the door that goes down to the lawyers’ private garage.’

‘That door there?’ He pointed to an unmarked gray steel door next to the main entrance.

‘Yeah. That one.’

‘Have you seen her since?’

Randall shook his head. ‘No. I don’t think so.’

‘You said there was another late sign-out?’

‘Yeah. Ten minutes or so after she left, Mr Ogden came down. Henry Ogden. He’s one of the senior partners at Palmer Milliken.’

‘Was he angry, too?’

Randall shook his head and shrugged. ‘No. He seemed okay. He looked like he always looks. Like a rich white guy. Handed me an envelope. Christmas card with a hundred bucks inside. Last year it was just fifty. Told me to get something nice for my kids.’

‘Anybody else leave the building after Henry Ogden?’

‘No.’

‘Working a double like that, Randall, any chance you might have dozed off and missed somebody else coming in and out?’

Jackson stiffened. ‘No. No chance at all.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. Only people to leave after Ogden were the regular cleaning crew. They get here around six and are usually outta here about one in the morning.’

‘How many people?’

‘Half a dozen, give or take.’

‘They have to sign in or out?’

Randall shook his head. No.

‘Same folks all the time?’

‘Not really. Company mixes ’em up. Specially around the holidays.’

‘They work for METCO?’

‘No, METCO just handles security. Some other company does the cleaning. You wanna know who, you’ll have to ask building management.’

‘You still have the sign-in sheets from that day?’

‘Not here. METCO might. I don’t know how long they hold on to them.’