Counter attack, p.21
Counter Attack, page 21
Brooke pointed toward the people gathered. “Someone said the bomb dog alerted to explosives in Denton’s condo.”
The media would take that and run with it. What they wouldn’t tell is that C-4 by itself was harmless—it took extreme heat and a shock wave, like the detonators they’d found, but they had to be activated.
“Say, you ought to talk to Ms. Mattie,” Brooke said. “She used to talk about him being alone, and sometimes she took him food.”
“Ms. Mattie?” Alex said, opening the notebook again. “Do you know her last name?”
“No. I’ve just always called her Ms. Mattie.” Brooke shrugged apologetically. “We’re not much on last names around here—I only knew Phillip Denton’s last name because . . . well, someone getting killed in your building—you’ll remember their last name.”
“Can you describe Ms. Mattie?”
“About my height, blue hair . . . old. She lives across from Denton’s condo, been here forever, but she does go to visit her sister sometimes and may have been there when he died.”
Alex could get her last name from the company that managed the building. “How long have you lived here?”
Brooke tilted her head. “I think I’ve been here maybe five years. No, my husband and I moved in right after we got married, and that’s been six years.” She shook her head, bouncing her blond curls. “I can’t believe it’s been that long.”
Fearing Brooke would rattle on, Alex thanked her and scanned the crowd still gathered a safe distance from the building, but didn’t see anyone who might fit that description. She turned back to the young mother. “Ms. Mattie—do you see her anywhere?”
“She isn’t here. I saw someone pick her up earlier, probably for a doctor’s appointment. She has a lot of those.” The young mother chuckled. “She’ll be so mad to miss all the excitement.”
Alex thanked her again. If the older woman lived across from Denton, it wouldn’t be any problem to come back and interview her tomorrow.
She caught up with Nathan near the command center talking to the bomb squad commander. “Looks like there was no booby trap in the floor where Mal alerted,” he said. “The robot removed the carpeted square and found enough C-4 to take the building down if it had been detonated.”
Even knowing it would have been all but impossible for the plastic explosive to go off on its own, Alex still wouldn’t want to live in a building with a bunch of it lying around. She turned to Carl. “What do you suppose he was planning to do with all that explosive?”
He shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Was there anything in the space that might give us a lead on Denton’s family members?” she asked.
“No. But I found a sheet of notepaper that matched the one on yesterday’s fake bomb. It was on the kitchen floor, like someone dropped it, and if they did, it had to have been no more than two weeks ago. That’s when an agent last showed the condo, and the company assured me no one left paper lying about.”
That meant someone had been in the condo recently. Phame?
Carl rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m mostly worried that the box of detonators has some missing. What if this Phame person had access to the condo and took some of the C-4 and the detonators?”
The thought made Alex’s head hurt. The fake bomb yesterday let them know this Phame knew how to make a bomb. “But whoever made the fake bomb used dynamite, not C-4.”
“Not hard to substitute the two. Maybe we’ll get lucky and our killer left fingerprints when he got the supplies to make that one.”
“I wish.” Alex turned as a car pulled to the curb. A silver-haired woman sat in the back. Maybe it was Ms. Mattie.
47
There was something off about this whole bomb deal. A piece of stationery left on the kitchen floor . . .
Nathan looked up. Madden walked toward him. It might be a good time for Nathan to question the detective about the Queen’s Gambit victims in Chattanooga. It might help with the investigation in Pearl Springs. So far neither the Russell County deputies nor his detectives had found a connection between Gina Norman and the other victims other than she’d moved from Chattanooga to Pearl Springs and her resemblance to Alexis.
“Learn anything?” Nathan asked when the detective reached him.
“No one I’ve talked to knew Phillip Denton personally.”
“That’s been my experience too. What’s your take on the explosives?”
Madden shook his head. “I didn’t understand the bombing when it happened, and I certainly don’t understand what we found today. Never have been able to discover Denton’s motive for the bombings, and until we know that, there are no answers.”
“Not likely to happen with him dead and no one to ask.”
“You got that right. Denton was the reason the city came up with the funding for another explosive detection dog after they retired Belle. Sure would’ve been nice if we’d had Mal then. I understand there may be missing C-4 and detonators.”
“Afraid so.” Just what they needed. A serial killer on the loose with bomb material. Nathan scanned the crowd. He imagined Carl would release the building soon and the people could return to their homes.
“Do you think Denton and the Queen’s Gambit murders are connected?” Madden asked.
“Alexis said the newspaper clippings found at the crime scenes were about Denton, so that makes me think this Phame we’re getting notes from is related to him in some way.”
Madden rested his hand on his service gun. “Phame. What kind of name is that?”
“Alexis’s CSI thinks it might be a gamer name. Or a hacker,” Nathan said. “Have you ever played one of those computer games?”
“Don’t have the skills for them, but my kids play all the time,” Madden said. “I have to keep after them or they’ll spend all their free time on them.”
“I don’t doubt that. What can you tell me about the Chattanooga victims of the Queen’s Gambit Killer?”
“Not a lot on the first three, except the one Alex knew, and not all that much on her. They would’ve been easy prey for the killer, on the streets like they were. I’m not sure the killer stalked them—could’ve just happened upon them.” He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “But the other two . . . all their friends indicated they weren’t the type to take up with just anyone. Career women with good jobs. There were witnesses who saw the women leave the Lemon Tree and they were alone. I think the killer followed them home and either forced his way in or the victims recognized the killer and thought he was harmless.”
“How about George Smith?” Nathan asked about the man Alexis had shot and killed, the one they’d originally thought was the Queen’s Gambit Killer.
“I’ve written that one off as a copycat. Some of the people he hung around with said he talked about the Queen’s Gambit murders all the time.”
“Okay, thanks for filling me in.”
“Most of it was in the report,” he replied.
“But not all of it. I think I’ll try and find Alexis.”
His phone rang as he walked toward the building and he checked the call. His sergeant. Nathan pressed the answer button. “What do you have, Jared?”
“We got a hit on Gina Norman’s prints.”
“And?”
“She was arrested for prostitution in Chattanooga.”
“You’re kidding. Let me call you back.” Nathan turned and jogged back to where he’d left Madden standing. When he reached the detective, he said, “Gina Norman is from Chattanooga, and you guys arrested her in the past for prostitution.”
Madden frowned. “What are you talking about? Who is Gina Norman?”
“Our victim in Pearl Springs. Didn’t you get the case notification? I emailed it to you Monday night.”
“Haven’t seen it, but I’m juggling five homicides right now, and I could have missed it. Send it again, and I’ll check it out.” He handed Nathan a card. “Email address is under my phone number.”
“Thanks. I’ll get my sergeant to send it right away.” Nathan started to dial Jared.
Madden cleared his throat. “This Gina Norman. Did she look like Alex?”
Nathan stopped with his finger on the send button. For a second he was in Tom Weaver’s rental house staring down at Alexis. No. Not Alexis—Gina. “They looked a lot alike, same build, same color hair, same shape face.”
“Bingo. There was a strong resemblance to Alex with the other victims. Maybe not the total package, but in some way each victim reminded me of Alex. I’ve always believed she’s at the core of this crime, and it’s connected in some way to Phillip Denton.”
“But the killer could’ve gotten to Alexis early on. Why drag it out?”
Madden scratched his jaw. “I’m not a psychologist, but even I can see the killer wants her to feel pain . . . and guilt. Maybe because he does?”
“What if Denton had a sibling or a child . . . and that relative wanted to get revenge for his death?”
“It’s one theory.”
“Did you request a DNA workup on Denton for familial matches?”
“I don’t know—two and a half years ago it wasn’t standard practice to conduct DNA searches like it is now, so it’s possible we didn’t. I’ll have to check.”
“Do that and give me a call.”
Madden started to walk away and stopped. “You know, I’m certain we would have gotten Denton’s DNA, but an analysis probably wasn’t performed, budgets being stretched and all. After all, he was dead, and we didn’t have enough detectives to cover our caseloads as it was. Still don’t.” He shrugged. “You know how it is—I had at least five new murder cases before he was even buried.”
Nathan nodded sympathetically. He knew exactly what Madden meant even though Pearl Springs didn’t have Chattanooga’s crime rate. It was all about the lack of manpower.
“Tell you what. I’ll submit a request to have that done . . .” Madden tapped his jaw. “Or better still, I have a friend who owns a lab here in Chattanooga. He’s been fooling around with finding relatives through DNA, and he’s got a massive database. I could send him Denton’s DNA and see if he has any hits for family members.”
“That would be great. Any idea how much it would cost?”
“He’s trying to build his business, so his prices are good. He might even do it pro bono.”
“That’d be great.”
There had to be a connection between Alexis, the murders, and Denton. Possibly a brother who wanted revenge? Or maybe there was a child who believed Alexis could have avoided killing Denton. But there was no way she could have known the gun he’d pointed at her wasn’t loaded.
48
Alex unhooked her badge as she approached the petite woman who stared at the packages the driver had placed on her Rollator. “Ms. Mattie?” she asked as the car pulled away from the curb.
The silver-haired woman turned to her. “Yes?”
Alex identified herself. “I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”
The older woman stared gravely at her. “You’re a police officer?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, good. You’ll help me take my package in, won’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am—when they let us in.” She took the bags from the Rollator.
Ms. Mattie plopped in the seat. “I’ve never had a driver that didn’t take my bags to the condo. And I didn’t tip him, either.” Ms. Mattie fanned herself and glanced around. “What did you mean about when they let us in? What’s going on? Why is everyone outside the building?”
Alex explained, and the older woman’s gray eyes widened again. “Oh my. Poor Phillip.”
“So you knew him pretty well?”
“Such a sweet boy. And so misunderstood.” Ms. Mattie shook her head. “But that’s not what you were asking about. I’m sure I knew him better than anyone around here—no one knows anything about anyone nowadays, which I’m sure you’ve discovered if you’ve talked to anyone in the building.”
She glanced down the street. When she turned her attention back to Alex, her eyes glistened. “It’s not like it was when I was the age of most of these young people around here. Those days everyone helped each other out. Now they call it meddling or being nosy.”
“Tell me about Phillip,” Alex said, directing the conversation back to her subject.
“He’d had a hard life and had just moved to Chattanooga when I met him almost five years ago.”
“Do you know where he came from?”
“He never would discuss that.”
“Did he ever talk about his life before he moved here? Did he have family in the area?”
“He wouldn’t discuss that either.”
“Then how do you know he had a hard life?” Alex forced herself not to sound irritated.
“You could see it in his eyes.” Ms. Mattie rubbed her arthritic fingers over the rubber handle grips, lost in thought. Then she took a quick breath. “You asked about family. I think he had a sister. I never saw her, but I know she came sometimes because he would tell me.”
If he wasn’t fabricating a sibling. “Have you seen or heard anyone at his condo recently?”
“The real estate company sends someone over every couple of weeks to check on the condo.”
“Was anyone there this week?”
“Oh yes, and I thought it was odd that someone would come on Sunday,” Ms. Mattie said. “I’d never seen this agent before, and when I asked if that’s what she was doing in Phillip’s condo, she said yes.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Could you describe her?”
The older woman’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know . . . it was dark in the hallway, and I don’t see as good as I used to.”
“Was she tall? Skinny? Blond?” Alex tried not to sound impatient.
“Not tall. And not blond—I know that. It’d been raining, and I think she had on one of those . . . you know, a thing that covers you all over . . .”
“A poncho?”
“Yes.” She smiled big like Alex had answered the $64,000 question. Then she palmed her hands. “So I couldn’t tell if she was skinny or fat.”
“Have you seen anyone else over there? Like maybe a man?” Alex thought they were most likely looking at a man being the serial killer or bomb maker.
Ms. Mattie scratched the back of her neck. “I think the last time the real estate company showed it was to a man.” She wiggled her brows. “Good lookin’ man too.”
“Oh? How long ago was this?”
“Not last week, maybe the week before? The agent knocked on my door to ask what my utility bill usually runs. He and the prospective buyer came in while I looked for some of my old bills, and he was so nice. I hope whatever is going on doesn’t stop him from buying it.”
“Do you know what his name is? Or the real estate agent’s?”
“Oh, honey, I don’t remember my name half the time, much less someone’s name from a week ago.”
The real estate company should be able to give her the name. They both turned as Carl approached. “We’re about to let everyone back in, if you’d like to get this young lady to her condo first.”
“Thanks, I will.” She turned to the older woman. “Ms. Mattie . . . what’s your last name, anyway?”
“Proctor. Mattie Proctor, but most people call me by my first name.”
“It’s a pretty name. Let’s get you upstairs before it gets crowded.”
Alex had to almost jog to keep up with the older woman as she rolled her walker to the elevator. Once inside her condo, she took the packages from Alex and carefully placed them on a mahogany dining room table. The condo was a mirror to Denton’s, except Ms. Mattie’s was furnished with well-polished antique furniture. “Your place is lovely,” Alex said.
“Thank you, dear. The furniture is old, like me, but you can’t get pieces like this any longer.”
Alex ran her hand over a dark green rocking chair. “This is a Windsor, isn’t it?”
“You have a good eye.”
“I should. My grandmother dragged me in and out of antique stores when I first went to live with them and would now if I had time.” Her phone dinged a text. Nathan. She quickly messaged him where she was and told him to come up.
“Then you probably have an appreciation for old things.”
She’d never thought about it, but Alex supposed she did. “I’ve asked a friend to meet me here. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. I’ll put on a kettle and we’ll have tea.” She pulled out an electric kettle before Alex could tell her they didn’t have time for tea.
Ms. Mattie smiled at her. “Phillip was an old soul like you. I guess that’s why we clicked.” She stared at the kettle, lost in thought. “I was so surprised to learn he was a magician.”
“A magician?” The revelation made her forget that she was about to protest that Ms. Mattie wasn’t old.
The doorbell rang, and they both turned toward the door. “That must be my friend. I’ll get it.”
After she let Nathan in, she made the introductions and said, “Ms. Mattie was friends with Phillip Denton. In fact, I think she was his only friend in Chattanooga.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the older woman said from the doorway. “He met someone for lunch almost every week. Never did say who it was, but they must’ve been friends. Have you talked to that person?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Getting information from Ms. Mattie about Denton was like getting water from a rusty pump. It came in drips. “Anything else you can think of?”
Ms. Mattie shifted her eyes to the right. “Have you talked to the friend who dropped by late at night?”
“No. Did you ever see this person?”
“Just from the back.” She shrugged. “I suppose it could’ve been one of his magician buddies.”
“Magician?” Nathan looked from Ms. Mattie to Alex.
“Yes.” She beamed at him. “My, you are one fine specimen of the male species.”
Nathan turned three shades of red, and Alex ducked her head to keep from laughing. “I’m confused,” he said. “What about magicians?”
