The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [66]
Kerney read the investigative narrative provided by the Denver PD. The murder had occurred in the victim’s car outside a trendy city nightspot. She’d been shot once in the chest by a small-caliber handgun. Analysis of the powder burns and flash points on the woman’s clothing disclosed that the barrel of the weapon had been placed in direct contact with the victim’s body.
Witnesses at the nightclub reported that the victim had been in the company of a well-dressed, Hispanic male, approximately thirty years old, of average to slightly above average height. None of the patrons or employees at the club recalled previously seeing the couple, who had arrived at the club separately. The detective noted that most witnesses interviewed at the scene appeared to be high on cocaine “or under the influence of other illegal substances.”
Faced with an unknown suspect, the detective assigned to the case had naturally concentrated on the victim. Crystal Fox turned out to be a “personal escort who specialized in entertaining well-heeled out-of-town male visitors to the city.”
An address book at the victim’s apartment yielded the names of men who’d been entertained by Ms. Fox, many on a regular basis, according to a meticulously up-to-date social calendar discovered among her possessions. The night of the murder she’d had nothing scheduled.
Departments as far away as Los Angeles and New York City had cooperated in the investigation, interviewing every one of Crystal Fox’s customers who could be located. None, based on verified alibis, had been in Denver at the time of the murder.
A knock at the open door made Kerney look up. Helen Muiz came in and presented Kerney with the agenda of the appointments he’d asked her to make. Kerney knew each person on the list. All were politically well connected, reasonably trustworthy, and could possibly provide valuable information about Senator Tyler Norvell.
“You’d better get cracking,” Helen said. “Your first meeting is downtown in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks.”
“Whatever happened to your promise to make your own phone calls?” Helen asked.
“Because of your charm and persuasiveness, I knew you’d have better luck getting through to these guys,” Kerney said, waving the slip of paper at her.
“Baloney,” Helen said.
Kerney laughed. “Don’t you mean to say that you respectfully disagree with my statement?”
“No, just baloney will do,” Helen replied with a twinkle in her eye.
Kerney knew that look well, so he took the bait. “What is it?”
“Your doctor’s office called. The results of your MRI came in. He wants you to call him back so he can schedule surgery. Does this mean no more limp?”
“I hope so.”
“Wonderful,” Helen said.
Clayton questioned the propane delivery driver carefully and learned it was company policy for the driver to announce his arrival at a customer’s home.
The man had honked the horn and waited for several minutes before proceeding to fill the tank. No one had appeared during the time he was at the cabin. Since the stop was on his regular route, he’d been furnished a key to the locked gate to gain entry. He delivered every two months. When asked, the driver noted that the tank was over three-quarters full, which probably meant the cabin hadn’t been used much during the cold weather.
At the airport Clayton reviewed a list of airplane owners who kept personal vehicles at the parking lot. The list showed make, model, year, and license plate information for each. Rojas hadn’t lied about owning an SUV. After cruising the lot without finding the vehicle, Clayton decided that maybe the girlfriend, Deborah, also hadn’t lied about driving the SUV to El Paso as a favor to Rojas. But that was about the only truth the woman had told. It got Clayton to start questioning the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing, again.
He headed toward Carrizozo and the office, using the road that would take him off the mesa and past Fort Stanton. He reached for the radio to call in his destination and ETA just as dispatch advised him that Hewitt, Quinones, and