The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [88]
‘Yes, of course I remember. What’s this about, gentlemen? I’ve told you everything I know.’
‘It’s just a follow-up call, sir,’ Hunter this time. ‘We just wanna tie up some loose ends.’
‘And you wanna do this in my home?’ Peterson asked in an irritated tone.
‘If we could have only ten minutes of your time . . .’
‘It’s Sunday, gentlemen,’ he cut in. ‘I like to spend Sundays with my family . . . uninterrupted. If you wanna tie anything up, my secretary would gladly arrange an appointment. Now if you’d excuse me.’ He started to close the door but Hunter pushed his foot forward stopping it.
‘Mr Peterson,’ Hunter said before Peterson had a chance to voice his discontentment. ‘Your colleague, your friend, was murdered by a total maniac who respects nothing. That wasn’t a vengeance killing, and it sure as hell wasn’t a chance one either. We’re not sure who will be next, but what we do know is if we don’t stop him, there will be another victim.’ Hunter paused, staring Peterson straight in the eye. ‘I’d love to have Sunday off, to spend it with my family and I’m sure so would Detective Garcia.’
Garcia raised an eyebrow at Hunter.
‘But we’re trying to save lives. Ten minutes, that’s all we ask.’
Peterson compressed his lips still looking annoyed. ‘OK, let’s talk out there, not in here.’ He made a head movement towards the road where Garcia’s car was parked. ‘Honey, I’ll be back in ten minutes,’ he called to the inside of the house before closing the door behind him.
As they reached Garcia’s car Hunter stole a peek back at the house. The little girl was looking down at them from a window on the second floor with sad eyes.
‘Great kid you’ve got there,’ Hunter commented.
‘Yes, she’s adorable,’ Peterson replied uninterested.
‘It’s a beautiful day. Doesn’t she like playing by the pool?’
‘She has schoolwork to do,’ he said firmly.
Hunter moved on. ‘Is that a new Chevy van?’ He pointed to the car.
‘I’ve had it for a couple of months.’
‘What kind of mileage do you get per gallon?’
‘Detective, you’re not here to talk about my daughter or my new van, so how about you cut to the chase.’
Hunter nodded. ‘We need to find out a little more about George’s Tuesday nights. We know he wasn’t playing poker. If you have any information, we need to know.’
Peterson retrieved a cigarette from a pack in his pocket and placed it on his lips letting it hang loosely. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked, lighting it up.
Hunter and Garcia both shrugged at the same time.
‘George was a quiet person, kept himself to himself,’ he said, taking a long drag.
‘Anything out of the ordinary?’
‘Well . . .’ Peterson paused.
‘Yes?’ Hunter pressed.
‘He might’ve been having an affair.’
Hunter studied Peterson for a few silent seconds. ‘With someone in the office?’
‘No, no. Definitely not.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘We have no women lawyers in the firm. All the secretaries and assistants are senior women.’
‘So? A lot of men like older women,’ Garcia offered.
‘Still too risky, it could’ve cost him his job. George wasn’t stupid,’ Peterson replied, shaking his head.
‘So why do you say you think he was having an affair?’ Hunter asked.
‘By chance I’ve overheard him on the phone a few times.’ Peterson made sure he emphasized the words ‘by chance.’
‘And what did you hear?’
‘Lover’s talk – “I miss you and I’ll see you tonight.” That kinda thing.’
‘He could’ve been speaking to his wife,’ Garcia suggested.
‘I doubt it,’ Peterson shot back, twisting his mouth to the left and blowing a thin cloud of smoke.
‘Why do you doubt it?’ Hunter asked.
‘I’ve heard him speaking to his wife before. He didn’t talk to her like that, you know, all sweet and all, like newlyweds do. It was somebody else, I’m sure of it.’ He paused for another drag. ‘Most of the secret calls came on Tuesdays.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes I am. So when you guys came around the firm asking about George’s Tuesday-night poker game, I figured it must’ve been some sort of lie he’d told his wife. I didn’t wanna be the one to rat him out, so I kept