Chapter 27
The perp walked with a slight limp.
He climbed over the fence, using one of the pilasters so as not to skewer himself on the spires of the wrought iron.
That was the end of the clip.
Jeff showed us another clip of the perp leaving through the front gate. He had a backpack stuffed with stolen items. He was inside the house less than ten minutes and headed south, toward Vivian’s, when he left.
"How did he get into the house?” I asked.
"Through a window. We leave them open most of the time. I guess my wife forgot to lock it before we left. We usually don't worry about it. This neighborhood is pretty safe. But things have been going downhill lately.”
"Where were you during the break-in?”
"Out to dinner. Then we stopped at a bar for a drink. My wife and I like to have date night on Fridays. Keeps it fresh.”
Jeff texted me the clips.
"And you gave copies of this footage to the PD?”
He nodded.
I thanked him for the information and gave him a card. I told him we’d be in touch if we found anything.
I texted the video clips to Seth. [Do you think this could be Lucas? Did he have a limp?]
Seth didn’t respond right away.
We canvased the area, asking neighbors for doorbell footage.
Nobody remembered hearing gunshots around the time of Vivian’s murder. Nobody had seen the burglar or the shooter. A few people were willing to share footage from their doorbell cameras, but none captured any footage of the perp.
JD and I walked back down the street to Vivian’s house.
I stood on the driveway by the gate, trying to recreate the scene in my mind.
When Vivian pulled into her driveway, she had to wait a few seconds for the gate to fully open before she could drive in.
Plenty of time for a perpetrator to approach the vehicle and put a few rounds into her.
Surely the West Beverly forensic team had collected any shell casings on site by now, but Jack and I gave a look around just in case.
We didn’t find any.
“What’s the first thing you would do after you took out a target?” I asked JD rhetorically.
“I’d break down the gun and get rid of it as fast as possible.”
There were plenty of shrubs and flower beds in which to dispose of a weapon. A trained professional would never hide a weapon in such an obvious location. JD took one side of the street, and I took the other, searching towards Sunset. That was the direction the perp had gone after the burglary.
At the corner, an inlet to a storm drain caught my attention. It would be a quick way to dispose of a weapon, though not the best option.
I dropped to the ground and shone a small tactical flashlight into the sewer. The dank musty smell hit my face like a wet sock.
I called JD over. "Give me a hand with this."
He hustled across the street and joined me at the manhole cover. With a sour face, he said, "You want to go down into the sewer?”
"I don’t particularly want to, but...”
Holes in the cover were just big enough to slip a finger through.
I tugged on the cast-iron, but the damn thing had to be 200 pounds and rusted shut with dirt and grime.
We both yanked on it for a minute, then JD hustled back to the Ferrari and found a small prybar in the toolkit.
He hurried back, and we used it to wedge the sewer cover up.
Then we slid it to the side, the cast-iron grinding against the concrete, making the most unpleasant sound.
I shone my flashlight into the dank abyss, then climbed down the ladder. The walls were covered with dried slime and grunge. At this point, the catch basin was bone dry. There hadn’t been any rain in the area recently.