Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gary knocked on Travers’s door, opening it when Travers barked out, “Come in.” Travers was sitting at his desk, staring at a computer screen and chewing on the end of a pen.
“How was the training day?” Gary asked.
Travers rolled his eyes. “A waste of time.” He flung his pen down with a scowl.
“Still no luck trying to find out who leaked Porter’s involvement to the press.
That photo…. They didn’t even bother to blur the background.
” He leaned back in his chair. “I got your email yesterday. I have to say, I’m impressed Porter still wants to work with us on this.
That man has balls.” He frowned. “Unlike the spineless little shit who took that photo of him.” Travers steepled his fingers.
“Okay, bring me up to speed with your progress.”
Gary wasn’t ready to abandon the topic. “Look, about Dan… I’ll be honest. I’m not happy about it. I’ve promised we’ll keep him safe. I know he’s not in any danger, but—”
“But we have no way of knowing what will happen. I agree. We don’t want a repeat of Chicago. Little wonder there was no mention of this in the records. Chicago PD dropped the ball on that one.” He gave Gary an inquiring glance. “What do you have in mind?”
“From now on I’ll pick him up from his hotel and take him back there when he’s done. I’ve also told him I’ll be with him this weekend. I’m not happy about him being on his own.”
Travers picked up his pen. “I’ll make sure you aren’t called in, then.”
“Thank you. He’s going stir-crazy. I told him to stay put until I’d sorted things out, but I wanted to talk to you first.” His throat tightened. “This is a reminder that I won’t be here next Tuesday. It’s… Cory’s funeral.”
Travers’s expression grew thoughtful. “Of course.”
Gary forced his mind into practical mode. He pulled his notepad from his pocket. “We’ve been doing a lot of digging into Robin Fields’s death.”
“Tell me it’s yielding results. I need some good news right now.”
“Well, it’s not looking good for his boyfriend, Quinn Dalmont, that’s for sure.”
Travers’s eyes gleamed. “You think he did it?”
“That’s the line we’re pursuing. This guy set off some major vibes when we interviewed him. We’re certain Robin Fields is not victim number seven. Too many anomalies at the crime scene, not to mention Del Maddox reports there’s no evidence of penetration. At least not like in the other cases.”
“What have you got on Dalmont so far?”
“The only prints in the apartment belong to Fields, Dalmont, and the cleaner. Which means nothing because we have no prints from the other crime scenes. But Lewis found Dalmont on Grindr, using another name. No doubt it’s him.
A little suspicious for a man who claims he and his fiancé were monogamous, don’t you think?
Our guess is Fields didn’t know about that.
We got a warrant to check Dalmont’s phone records.
Plus we’re following a few other leads. When we see what they bring, we’ll invite him in for an interview.
” Gary didn’t want to say too much about those leads. Travers liked facts, not hunches.
“Excellent. Then I’ll let you get back to work.” Travers stilled. “No movement on our serial killer? What about Silver?”
“Still waiting on the DNA results, but Riley’s checking up on him too. I’ll let you know what he discovers.”
Travers nodded. “The social media furor appears to have died down since Tuesday. Thank God. At least there are no more posts on Twitter about Boston PD’s discriminatory attitude toward BDSM.
And Monroe’s lawyer says he won’t be making a formal complaint.
Yet another thing to be thankful for.” His phone rang, and he sighed.
Gary took that as a sign. He left the office and headed for his desk. His phone buzzed, and he smiled when he read the text from Riley.
Office, now. We hit pay dirt.
It was about time they hit something.
He hurried to the case room, to find Riley and Lewis talking animatedly. “I was beginning to think you two had transferred to another precinct,” Gary said. “Where have you been all morning?”
“Working,” Lewis retorted. “And you’re gonna like what we found.”
“Where’s Dan?” Riley asked.
“At the hotel. And if we need him, I’ll go pick him up.”
“I don’t know him all that well, but I’m betting he hates being in the spotlight.”
“You’d be right.” Gary couldn’t think about Dan right then. He needed to keep a clear head. “Okay, bring me up to speed.”
“I just finished checking the street cameras around Liberty Drive.” Riley thrust a folder into his hand. “We have to question Dalmont about his weekend with his family. I have no idea where they’re located, but I’d be interested to hear how he explains this.”
Gary opened the folder and smiled. “Yes, so would I.” He placed it on the table. “Have you contacted Uber? They keep records for ninety days.”
“Yup. I got them to preserve the account.”
Lewis tapped another folder with his index finger. “And I got his phone records. Makes for compelling reading.” He opened it, removed two sheets, and handed them to Gary.
Gary scanned the sheet, frowning. “Nothing compelling about this. I can’t see how this helps—” He froze as he glanced at the second sheet.
“Oh, I stand corrected.” He grinned. “Nice work.” He handed the sheets back to Lewis.
“I have news too. Fields’s lawyer sent over a copy of the will.
Apparently, Fields made a new one in anticipation of the wedding.
” His phone rang, and Gary answered it immediately. “Del. What have you got for me?”
“The results of the prelim toxicology tests. Now, you know this is merely an indication―”
“Yes, I know it’s not accurate proof. So what have you got?”
“I had them test for the substances found in the previous cases. I’m fairly certain the victim’s cardiac arrest was brought about by a lethal dose of ketamine.”
“Thank you, Del.” He disconnected, then looked at his team. “Anything else?”
Lewis nodded. “I spent the morning contacting guys who’ve hooked up with Dalmont. I managed to interview three of them, and I took statements.”
Gary smiled. “Judging by that grin, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you found something.”
“Oh yeah. A couple of them told me something very illuminating.”
The door opened, and an officer entered. “There’s a visitor for you. Says he’s Robin Fields’s ex. He also says it’s important. I put him in Interview Room One.”
“I’ll be right there.” When the officer withdrew, Gary grabbed a notepad from the table.
“Two things. Log everything you’ve got so far.
And can one of you call Dalmont and invite him to come talk to us?
Make sure he knows he’s free to leave when we’re done.
We don’t want to rattle him. Just tell him we want him to make a statement for our records. ”
“I’m on it.” Riley’s eyes sparkled. “It’ll be a pleasure.”
Gary left them and headed for the interview room. It was the most casual of the rooms, usually used with witnesses and relatives. He opened the door, and a tall good-looking man lifted himself out of his chair.
Gary held out his hand. “Detective Mitchell. You wanted to see me?”
The man nodded. “My name is Simon Westfall. Robin Fields and I were in a relationship for ten years. I’m here to ask how your investigations are progressing. Are you any closer to catching his killer?”
Gary gestured to the chairs. “Please, sit.” He waited until Mr. Westfall had done so before taking a seat. “You must understand, I can’t divulge information about an ongoing case.”
“Then is there any help I can give you that would bring you closer to catching him?”
Gary studied him. Simon Westfall was maybe in his late forties, early fifties. He wore his almost-white hair cropped close to his head, and there was a distinguished air about him. “Can I ask a personal question? Why did your relationship with Mr. Fields end?”
Mr. Westfall sighed. “Three years ago, he had a late midlife crisis. In other words, his head was turned by a newer model.”
“Quinn Dalmont?”
He nodded. “He was twenty-nine to Robin’s forty-six years. He was pretty, lithe, and he swept Robin off his feet. Robin said Quinn made him feel young again.” He swallowed. “Why do some men want to live forever?”
“Was it an amicable parting?”
“Yes. We stayed friends, for which I’m grateful.
” A faint smile creased his features. “Ten years is a long time in gay years. Too long to simply break completely with each other. We’d meet for dinner occasionally, and we’d go to the theater and to concerts, something that wasn’t to Quinn’s taste.
” He straightened. “But enough about my successor. I’m here because of something I read in the newspapers.
” He paused. “Robin’s death has been linked—in the media, at any rate—to the spate of murders of gay men. ”
Gary didn’t comment.
“Some mention was made of… drugs found at the scene. Now I have no idea how accurate this information is, but I had to see you.” He set his jaw. “Robin would never, never take drugs.”
“Forgive me for another personal question, but I have to ask it. What about during sex?”
Mr. Westfall shook his head. “Never. He abhorred the use of drugs of any description. It was all I could do to get him to take Tylenol for pain relief.”
“Maybe he changed during the last three years,” Gary suggested.
Another vehement shake of his head. “No. His horror of drugs was rooted deep in his past. I’m not going to divulge his family history, but I can assure you, there is no way on this earth he’d participate in drug use.
If you did find such substances in the apartment, the killer brought them with him.
” His voice was firm, but the pain in Mr. Westfall’s eyes was all too apparent.
“Thank you for coming in to clarify that. Was there anything else?”
“No, that was all.” Mr. Westfall rose with grace. “And now I’ll let you get back to finding Robin’s murderer.”