CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"That was a nice takedown," Alison said.
They were back in the CBI offices, and Raymond Nichols was brooding in the interview room, where they’d left him to stew.
"Thanks," Derek said. "I saw the move once in a football game where one of the defenders chased down a running back and knew he couldn’t make the tackle before the end zone, so he swiped one foot so it hit against the other foot and tripped him up. I wasn’t thinking about it as I ran after the suspect, but something overcame me, and I found myself leaning at him. "
"Well, you looked good doing it," Alison said.
Derek smiled and held her gaze, and Alison found that her face became a little warmer.
"Okay, so," she started, "we know Nichols has a direct link to Sarah Livingstone, and we have the photographic evidence to prove it. Mary Candlemaker is what started this whole thing when she testified against his brother. Do we know if he has links to other women who’ve testified?"
"We haven’t found anything yet," Derek admitted. "That was the most damning photo from the website."
"All right," Alison said, taking stock. "So, we have agents calling women who have testified in the past five years, focusing on those who have links to me. How’s that going?"
"It's going," Derek admitted. He smiled. "You've helped a lot of women over the years, and I keep getting feedback from the other agents about how many criminals you've helped to put behind bars. You put our records to shame."
"I don't have to catch them first," Alison admitted. "And Mary Candlemaker is still safe?"
"The last I heard, she was, and we have officers watching James Weber and Franklin Howard.
Nothing out of the ordinary from them so far.
We still don't have solid alibis from both of them, but what we do have is enough.
We can't formally arrest either of them, and a case against them would be thrown out before it got to trial. They’re still being investigated. "
"So, we now have three suspects, and so far, we can't prove or disprove that any of them are behind the double homicide," Alison said.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Derek replied. "Still, it’s better than having no suspects; I just wish we could rule some of them out."
"Maybe a chat with our friend in there will help with that," Alison said. "Shall we?"
"I’m ready when you are," Derek said.
Derek had a folder with him to take into the room, and he entered first with Alison following after.
Raymond Nichols looked worried, nervous, and agitated. He glanced their way briefly before looking down at the table. He picked at one of his thumbnails as he waited for them to sit opposite.
Raymond was balding slightly and had grown long what hair he had left, hanging down toward his shoulders while sparse on top.
He wore round glasses, had a thin mouth, and his chin was pointed.
Sitting at the table, he looked nothing like the man who was caught getting up in Sarah Livingstone’s face.
Derek and Alison sat down opposite, and left a few seconds of silence before they began.
Derek slowly and deliberately opened the folder and pulled out the photograph of Raymond and Sarah. He looked at it for a second before sliding it across the table and laying it before Raymond.
"We took this from your website," Derek informed him.
Raymond kept his thin mouth closed.
"I’m guessing the two of you weren’t friends," Derek said.
"Is that a question?" Raymond asked.
"I can rephrase it as a question if you like, but how about you just tell us about what’s going on in that picture. You look a little agitated, Raymond. What got you so upset?"
Raymond twisted his lips as he looked at the photograph, and when he glanced up at Alison, his features were colored with disdain.
"She’s a part of the problem," Raymond said.
Alison studied him. He might have been talking about Sarah or her.
"And what problem is that?" Derek asked.
"You know what problem that is," Raymond said. "If you’ve been on my website, then you know about my brother, and if she’s here, then you definitely know about my brother. He’s dead because of her"—a nod toward Alison—"and her"—he tapped the photograph—"and all of the rest of them.
You know how it all works, you just don't want to admit that it sucks. "
"Okay," Derek said congenially. "I’ve read your brother’s file, Raymond. There’s no doubt he deserved to be in prison, and I know you can't disagree with me on that. I don't know if he was a changed man by the time his parole came around, but he didn’t serve a long enough sentence, and it’s horrible that he took the way out that he did, but that’s not the fault of the system.
So, what did Sarah Livingstone do to you? "
Raymond fought to remain composed and sniffed noisily. "There’s no explaining it to you."
"You look furious at her, and the fact that you chose to display that on your website tells me you’re proud of that," Derek said.
"I don't regret it," Raymond replied.
"You don't regret it," Derek repeated. "At your rallies, you advocate for doing whatever is needed to change the system. Those are very dangerous words, Raymond. If I didn't know any better, I’d say you’re advocating for violence."
"I don't ever mention violence," Raymond claimed. "I’m advocating for legal reform."
"Come on, Raymond," Alison said. "You want us to look deeper into the system and see what you see, but you claim not to know that you're inviting violence. You’re a smart man, don't play dumb. You know you’re calling for violence, and you know that you have enough plausible deniability that you won’t ever be charged with anything should one of your few followers do anything. "
"I’ll accept that sometimes you have to attack the system, but I can't control what people do," Raymond claimed.
"And how about you?" Alison asked. "Can you control what you do?"
Before Raymond could answer, Derek tapped the photo before him and said, "Sarah Livingstone was found dead in her home three days ago. Someone killed her."
Raymond swallowed hard and continued to look at the photo before him, the one where he’s pointing at her and looks enraged.
"That, that, that’s not what—I would never…My brother is dead, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone else. I let her have it that day, but that was the last I saw of her. I’ve had run-ins with dozens of people over the years. That doesn’t mean anything."
"How about Margaret Donovan?" Derek asked if he had taken a photograph for her from his bag. He laid that before Raymond, side by side with the first photo. "Did you ever have a run-in with her?"
"Yeah, I did," Raymond said authoritatively. "It was a long time ago now, but I did, and that’s all it was."
"She was found dead in her home," Derek said. "Murdered. Two women who testified against violent criminals are dead. Who’s next, Raymond? Mary Candlemaker?"
The mention of the name sent Raymond’s lip curling up into a sneer.
"I don't ever go near her," he claimed. "I don't trust myself to be in the same room as her after what she did to me. I’m not afraid to admit that."
"What would you do to her?" Derek asked.
"That’s not a question I’m going to answer," he replied. "You don't deal in hypotheticals, right?"
"No, but we do deal in threats," Derek said.
"I don't make threats," Raymond said. "I’m not threatening her. I’ve never threatened anyone. All I do is point out the obvious truths and tell people when they’re wrong."
"And that’s what you were doing in the photo?" Derek asked, pointing again to the photo of him and Sarah.
"Yeah, pretty much," he replied.
"And what happens if they don't listen to you?" Alison asked.
"I’ve got a thick skin," Raymond said. "People don't like to hear the truth or that they’re wrong, so they don't listen to me most of the time, but it only takes one or two cracks to get through."
"Or you take out the ones who are most vocal against you?" Derek suggested.
"I didn't kill anyone," Raymond replied. "I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re barking up the wrong tree."
"Is that why you ran from us?" Derek asked. "That doesn’t seem like something someone does when they've done nothing wrong."
"Why didn't you identify yourself when you approached me?" Raymond asked. "That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? But you wanted me to be scared, didn't you? You wanted to sneak up on me, have the upper hand."
"We wanted to talk to you," Derek said.
"Then you could have just said that," Raymond replied. "Do you really think that if I killed two women, I’d be at a rally outside the courthouse, instead of hiding out somewhere. And if I were going to kill someone, it wouldn't be the woman I’m seen confronting in a picture on my website. I’m not an idiot.
I want these women to suffer for what they did, but not like this.
That goes for you, too." He pointed at Alison.
"All right, that’s enough of that," Derek said. "I will arrest you for threatening behavior if I have to."
"How do you want me to suffer, Raymond?" Alison challenged.
"Don't play all innocent," Raymond said. "It would be fine if these women stuck to the facts, but I watched Mary Candlemaker in that courtroom, and it wasn’t about the facts; it was about tugging at the judge's heartstrings. When she broke down in tears halfway through, it was obviously rehearsed."
"You’re on this crusade with shaky foundations," Alison said. "You see what you want to see, but the truth is, I don’t ever coach a woman to cry in court. Have you ever thought about what it's like for them? How do they have to face their worst abusers with the possibility of that abuser going free? Do you think that’s easy? Do you think all of them are lying or manipulating, and all the violent criminals on trial should go free? Prove to me that even one of these violent criminals is reformed and won't pose a risk to society, and they are wrongly imprisoned, and that’s a conversation we can have. I know you hate me, but I’m willing to work with you for the good of everyone, Raymond. I only need you to work with me."
Raymond was silenced monetarily, but he wasn’t ready to go down without a fight.
"What about Josie Backlund? She embellished her statement, even if the underlying facts were true. What about Patricia Montgomery? She’s a social worker who counsels people, but she couldn’t get through her own statement without breaking down for five minutes.
Five minutes! Who cries for that long? And Andrea Merrit. She—"
Derek held up his hand. "We get the point, but that point is without any credible evidence. You can't present that as facts when it’s emotion you don't like. We can—"
Derek stopped when a knock came at the door.
"Give us a minute," he said to Raymond. Someone wouldn’t have knocked at the door if it weren’t important.
He and Alison exited the room to find Special Agent Loxley waiting for them.
"I wouldn’t have called you out unless it was important," Loxley said.
"There’s been another, hasn’t there?" Alison asked.
"Yeah," Loxley admitted. "It’s different this time. There was a message, and well, you need to get down there. Boss’s orders."
"Yeah, we’ll head down there right away. Let me just finish up with Nichols, and then can you keep an eye on him? He can't go anywhere."
"Do you have a name?" Alison asked.
"Patricia Montgomery," Loxley said.
"Wait, Patricia Montgomery?" Alison asked. She looked at Derek.
It was one of the women Raymond had mentioned before they left the room, and it felt like too much of a coincidence to be pure chance