Chapter Twenty-Four
TWENTY-FOUR
Tim
Around the table, the team listened and nodded and scratched at their notebooks.
As much as the previous night’s get-together had felt like a debriefing, they were all experienced enough to know that was a different conversation, a different state of mind.
The meeting room smelled of floor cleaner and coffee.
Mid-morning sunlight, warm and clear, sliced through the window.
Looking over the rim of her mug, Shana asked Tim to recount his conversation with Terry Martino.
He focused on the timeline and the fact that Terry and his crew hadn’t set foot in the house all fall and winter.
“He’s a busy guy, apparently. Terry Martino corroborated Mikko’s claim that he was booked with other projects until March.
One thing to note is that he seemed concerned he’d be publicly associated with the house once the homicide makes the news.
Thinks that would be bad for his brand. Otherwise,” Tim said, “no red flags.”
The other investigators had updates, too.
Sol had called the hotel and confirmed that Mikko had only stayed there three times: the previous year when he was house-hunting, in April with Eva, and then again during his current visit.
For good measure, he’d called the hotels in Cape Vincent and Alexandria Bay, too.
None had serviced guests named Mikko Helle or Eva Ki.
Meanwhile, Valerie had circled back with the forensic unit.
“No initial evidence of blood spatter in the basement,” she said, “but the extensive renovation work is an issue. We need to eliminate the possibility that the house is the kill site, but the place is huge, and paint could have been used to cover up attempts to scrub away the blood. They’re going to try a forensic light source and infrared photography to see if they can detect blood through the fresh paint and plaster.
With the house sitting empty for so long, the basement could have simply been a disposal site.
There’s a good chance they’ll find DNA if it’s present, but that could take a while. ”
“Great work,” said Shana. “For my part, there’s nothing new on Jenny Smith, which is a problem.”
“But not surprising, right?” Valerie asked. “It’s like playing hide and seek with an illusionist. If she can get in and out of houses without breaking windows and locks, what chance do we stand of catching her?”
“We caught her once,” Shana said evenly. “We’ll catch her again.”
“Her behavior’s been bugging me,” Tim told the team.
In listening to his colleagues talk, his mind had snagged on something.
“I think it’s fair to say that Jenny Smith knew the victim.
She referred to the remains as female during her interview, and was extremely distressed by what she’d seen.
When we first found her, she claimed she’d tried to leave the house after discovering the secret room, but went back to the attic for her stuff and was caught by Nicole before she could slip out.
Honestly,” he went on, “I can see why she’d run.
She was caught trespassing, wearing clothes belonging to the owner of another home she targeted.
I think she saw her chance and took advantage in an effort to save herself. ”
“I’d agree with that,” said Sol. “The girl was off like a shot.”
“Right. At the same time, she kept pressing for us to talk to Helle—which we did, and as you know, he claims ignorance about the bones. So my question,” Tim said, “is this: if Jenny Smith knew the victim, and she thinks Helle has information about how she died, why not cooperate with us?”
“Maybe she’s involved,” Valerie offered, “and didn’t want to implicate herself.”
“Then why revisit the house months after the fact and risk getting caught at the crime scene? Jenny cleared out of those other homes long before the owners came back. This time, she picked one that was about to be occupied, and didn’t leave even after Helle moved in.”
“You’re saying she was there because of the body,” said Shana.
Tim nodded. “I think it’s possible, yeah. What if Jenny Smith was looking for those remains?”
“Why wait until Helle moved in?” Valerie said. “The house was sitting empty for months.”
“Maybe she planned to confront him?” Tim suggested. “Find out what he knows? If this theory holds water, it could be that Helle’s the only lead she has.”
“Never in a million years would I have come to that conclusion, but you know what?” said Solomon. “It fits.”
“I agree,” Shana added, and Tim thought he saw a flicker of pride in her smile. “I’d like to see some evidence, but you could be onto something.”
Tim felt it, the brisk uptick in his pulse.
The more he evaluated the scenario, the more convinced he became.
Jenny Smith had been in that house for a reason, and the reason was Mikko Helle.
“It all hinges on getting that ID on the body,” he said.
“If Jenny Smith really did know the victim, I can work backwards from there.”
Shana agreed, and thanked the group. Before they could gather their things and leave, Solomon cleared his throat.
“I know we’re overextended as it is,” he said, “but I thought you guys should know that someone called this morning to report retail theft.”
“Retail theft?” Tim repeated. “That sounds like a job for the village police.” He often wondered why the New York State Police got so many calls about issues outside of their purview—noise complaints, nosy neighbors, the works—but Tim supposed it had something to do with resources.
The local police departments were understaffed, the stations often empty.
Most citizens had learned to call county dispatch for an on-duty officer if they needed help.
“Normally, I’d have transferred it,” said Sol. “But the complaint was about Woody Durham.”
“Woody?” The name tumbled from Shana’s mouth, accompanied by a deep frown. “What exactly did they say?”
Sol explained that an anonymous caller had seen the interior of the Durhams’ garage and noticed a large number of unopened boxes.
“All brand-name consumer merchandise. He had some wild theories about it, my favorite being that Woody held up a Walmart driver and stole his whole load. Seems like we would have heard about a cargo heist.”
“Follow up on that please, would you Sol?” Shana said, looking a little distressed. “You’re right, we don’t have ample time on our hands, but I’d like to know how this pans out.”
Tim felt the same way. Neither he nor Shana knew Woody Durham well—Tim wasn’t sure he’d ever formally met the guy—but Woody was Mac’s brother-in-law, and Mac was practically family.
In a small community like theirs, it wasn’t uncommon to cross paths with people they knew while on the job.
Tim had once responded to a nasty watercraft collision that took the life of his longtime dentist. In his days as a trooper, he’d arrived at a drug raid to find a kid from his high school class grown up, tatted up, and brooding on fifteen pounds of meth.
He hoped whoever reported Woody Durham had it wrong. Given Tim’s recent interaction with Nicole, and the party that Mac had invited them to, things could get awkward—and fast.