White Hot Read online

  “Just one glass?”

  “The other’s smashed on the floor,” Mack said, wiping her mouth as she walked back in.

  I peered more closely. The bottle was still three-quarters full, and the glass left intact had lipstick marks on the rim.

  “Doesn’t look like she drank much. Although the cab driver said she was tipsy before she went to Ethan’s place.”

  “Blood alcohol was point zero five percent,” Bay said. “She’d have been slightly intoxicated but nowhere near drunk.”

  “And Ethan’s?”

  “Zero, but it was twenty-four hours at least before they drew a sample. If he’d only had a glass or two, it would have been metabolised by then.”

  “So we don’t know whether he was driving drunk?”

  “Nope, but something impaired his ability to handle a vehicle, seeing as he wrapped it around a tree,” Emmy pointed out.

  I imagined driving in a blind rage could have contributed. “They found the knife in the car, didn’t they?”

  Bay nodded. “In the footwell on the passenger side. Not until they’d dragged the car back up the slope, though.”

  Why did he take it with him? Why not just leave it with the body?

  “Blood spatter’s interesting,” one of the lab techs piped up.

  “In what way?” I asked.

  “None of it’s clean. The blood all over the body’s been smeared, like someone pulled something over the top of her.”

  “The blood wasn’t just on the bed either,” Bay said, tapping key areas with his finger. “There are a couple of pools here, but they’ve been smudged as well.”

  “Any footprints?”

  “Yes, but apparently there were some issues with preserving the integrity of the crime scene. The first officers to respond walked through most of it before they realised Christina was beyond saving.”

  “Anything that matched Ethan’s shoes?”

  Bay called up more photos. “It’s hard to tell. The whole scene is in chaos. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “What do you think these marks are?” an assistant asked, pointing at some dark but faint smudges leading towards the bedroom doorway.

  “I don’t know.” Bay scanned the report again. “And there’s nothing in here about them.”

  “It almost looks as if someone dragged something,” I said. “Did the police note anything missing from the room?”

  “No, but how would they know? The only person who could have told them is the Ghost, and by all accounts, he’s not talking.”

  I put that on my list to ask him tomorrow if I was allowed to take a copy of the photo in with me. Not that I honestly expected to get an answer.

  Tomorrow… I wasn’t looking forward to the visit. When I first started working on the case, I’d been apathetic. Could you blame me after the way it landed in my lap? Then, as things progressed, I’d viewed White through the eyes of the witnesses I’d spoken to, and the apathy turned to curiosity, even a little sympathy.

  But now, having seen the crime scene in graphic detail, I only felt disgust. White might be benign most of the time, but he had evil hidden inside. I looked back up at Christina’s broken frame. Satan himself would have been impressed with that job.

  Bay scrolled to the next photo, this one of Ethan after he was extracted from the car. I’d already seen it, when Mack pulled it from the police system, but that didn’t make it any less shocking. Blood covered him from head to toe. It couldn’t have been much worse if he’d rolled in it.

  While I thought about what I was going to say to the Ghost the next day, the geeks read over the rest of the lab reports. I’d looked at a few of them, but to me, they were written in code. Interpretation was best left to the experts—that was why Blackwood paid them the big bucks.

  I was staring into space when Emmy sat down next to me.

  “Dollar for them?”

  “My thoughts are barely worth a cent.”

  “Try me.”

  “I just don’t get it. Everyone says White was a kind, gentle guy. Then this.” I swept my hand over towards the pictures.

  “Insanity defence?”

  “At the moment, there isn’t any kind of defence. The Ghost won’t speak up, and Lyle’s incapable of making him. I’m at a loss.”

  “What outcome do you want?”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Sure. You pick one then you make it happen. We already spoke about this, remember?”

  “Well, either he gets life at Redding’s Gap, death, or if he’s found insane, locked up in a secure hospital. It’s like choosing between Coke, Pepsi, or RC Cola.”

  “Just playing devil’s advocate, what about the fourth option?”

  “What fourth option? Red Bull?”

  “He walks free.”

  “You can’t be serious? Even you couldn’t contemplate putting someone who stabbed a woman in a frenzy like that back onto the street. The guy’s so unstable he could explode at any moment.”

  “You’re sure he did it?”

  “You’re not?”

  She shrugged, and then her phone rang. I recognised the opening bars of Pearl Jam’s “Black.” Her husband was calling. She stood and headed for the door, already reaching into her pocket.

  “Think about it,” she said over her shoulder before she disappeared.

  I did. I didn’t want to, because that would mean opening up a whole new can of worms, but I did think about it.

  When Bay and his team finished talking among themselves, I broached the subject.

  “Did you find anything new in the report? Anything strange?”

  “They’d had sex before she died. There was a used condom in the bathroom bin.”

  “He definitely used it with Christina?”

  “DNA traces on the outside matched her and the semen matched him.”

  “Any sign it was non-consensual?” Because that was what Skinner was angling for.

  “Some bruising around the vagina and slight tearing inside. But if he wanted to hide the evidence, why didn’t he just flush it?”

  “Maybe he wanted to be environmentally friendly?” an assistant suggested.

  A killer who cared about pollution. Yeah, right. “Could somebody else have had sex with her after White and also used a condom?”

  “I guess that’s possible, but there aren’t any defensive wounds. If an intruder suddenly appeared, wouldn’t she have fought back?”

  “What if the rape happened post-mortem?”

  “No, it wouldn’t have bruised like that. This looks more like rough sex.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “The blood evidence is useless to either side. It’s been contaminated, both at the house and in the car. Too many people were there, and procedures weren’t followed as they should have been.”

  “And what’s your opinion of it?”

  “What I’ve seen is conclusive with Mr. White having killed the girl, but I can’t say with certainty that he did.”

  Interesting. “What makes you doubt it was him?”

  “Not doubt, per se, but there are a few unexplained anomalies. Those marks on the floor, for instance. There was also a smudge of Miss Walker’s blood in the trunk of the car, and nobody has been able to work out how it got there.”

  “What else?”

  “A stray hair on the carpet beside the bed. Light grey, just over an inch long. It clearly didn’t belong to the victim or the suspect.”

  “Could they get DNA from it?”

  “There was no follicle attached.” Bay sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Apart from all the mess, it’s not a particularly exciting murder. The weapon came from the suspect’s kitchen. Eight-inch paring knife. Effective but unoriginal.”

  “That’s it?”

  He paused for a second. “I’m not sure whether it’s important, but nobody’s found Mr. White’s house keys. He could have dropped them somewhere, but it’s a loose end.”

  I felt weary as
I left the lab. Sometimes my job made me want to go home and drink a bottle of whisky, but today that wasn’t an option. Not when I needed a clear head. No, I needed a different distraction.

  A warm body.

  Tonight, I promised myself, I’d find one.

  CHAPTER 15

  MY NEXT STOP was the coffee place next to the police station in Richmond. Blackwood employees tended to have a love-hate relationship with the local cops. If we believed we were on the same side, we’d go all out to support them, but there were also occasions when our interests didn’t align, and our tendency to ride rough-shod over their procedures had ruffled more than a few feathers.

  I checked my watch. Officer Tenlow was running late. I ordered his usual—a cappuccino and a granola square, his pretence at being healthy—then snagged a table in the back corner, out of sight of curious eyes.

  Tenlow, who his buddies at training college had immediately nicknamed Highfive, was one of the few members of local law enforcement I hadn’t managed to piss off at some point or another. I’d also helped him out a couple of months back on a burglary case, so he owed me a favour.

  It wasn’t long before he walked in, his slumped shoulders speaking of the stress he encountered daily. He slid into the seat opposite me and took a sip of his drink before he’d even said hello.

  “Sorry.” He paused to wipe the foam from his lip. “I got caught up in an interview. I thought we were getting somewhere, but then the kid’s lawyer shut it down.”

  If there was one thing the cops liked less than a Blackwood employee, it was a lawyer. Good thing I didn’t have Lyle in tow. Or worse, Oliver. They detested Oliver.

  “Lawyers do have a habit of doing that.”

  Tenlow took a bite of his granola square and sat back, stretching out his legs. “Why did you want to see me?”

  “I’m working on this Ghost thing.”

  He groaned. Good to see I wasn’t the only person this case was getting to. “I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

  “You’re not supposed to talk about any of the things we discuss, but you still do.”

  “This is different. Everyone’s watching.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. I feel like I’m in a goldfish bowl at work. Everyone keeps asking ‘How’s it going, Dan? Have you cracked the case yet, Dan?’ It’s driving me nuts.”

  We’re in the same boat here, buddy.

  “Our switchboard operator’s gone off sick with stress. Fans keep phoning in death threats. What case have you got to crack, anyway? Everybody knows he did it. He still had the girl’s blood on his hands when we caught him.”

  Well, I guess that answered my question about how much time they were spending looking at alternative theories.

  “Skinner’s trying for the death penalty, and I’m not convinced that’s appropriate. Everything I’ve seen suggests White was a straight-up guy who suddenly snapped, not a cold-blooded killer. I think he needs help, not a lethal injection.”

  “He also has the option of electrocution.”

  I stared sharp, pointy implements at Tenlow. “How did last month’s sensitivity training go?”

  “Shit, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just saying…never mind. Look, I guess I can understand where you’re coming from. I saw White at the station when we had him in for questioning, right before he got transferred. The guy was zoned out.”

  “You were at the scene, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah. Crazy, just crazy. What kind of guy fucks a woman then goes to the kitchen, gets a knife, and kills her? It must have been one hell of an argument.”

  And the crime scene report said there were no signs of a struggle away from the bed itself.

  “How far was the kitchen from the bedroom? That was where the knife came from, right?”

  Tenlow paused, tracing his finger along the table. “Along the landing, down the stairs, along another corridor, and the knife block was on the far side. It was a big house.”

  “How long do you think it would have taken him to walk there and back?”

  “A minute? Maybe a minute and a half?”

  “So White and Christina had some sort of argument, and then she lay back on the bed and waited calmly for a couple of minutes while he stormed off?”

  I didn’t buy it. If I’d been in that situation, I’d have been half-dressed and preparing to run by the time he came back.

  Tenlow shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

  Not many, I was willing to bet. The more I delved into it, the more this whole case felt off.

  “What did he say when he was at the station? Did he admit to the killing?”

  “Nope. Just said he didn’t remember anything then refused to speak again. He was kinda…compliant. No trouble. We still took him everywhere in leg irons, though. Like you said, there’s no knowing what set him off.”

  “What about the girl?” I asked.

  “What about the girl?”

  “Did you look into her? Her background? Why she was there that night?”

  “She was just some college girl. White picked her up in a nightclub from what I’ve heard. Could have happened to anyone.”

  Including me. If I’d met White in a bar, I’d have gone home with him. After all, how many times had I headed back to a man’s apartment without knowing more than his name? It was a sobering thought. Suddenly, my planned excursion for that evening didn’t seem quite so appealing.

  I blew on my chai latte, took a sip, and asked a few more questions, but I’d exhausted Tenlow’s usefulness. Talk turned to baseball—his son played Little League and Tenlow coached in his spare time. He left smiling, while I left more confused than ever.

  Tenlow’s words hadn’t shed much light, other than to tell me that the cops had taken the simple option—no other suspects, an easy arrest, an open and shut case. Or so they thought.

  If there was any way of helping White, it was Lyle and me against the world.

  CHAPTER 16

  NOW MY THOUGHTS had been sent off down a different path, I wanted to find out more about Christina. The cops hadn’t looked into her at all, Blackwood hadn’t done much more, and yet the feeling she was a bigger part of this puzzle than anybody realised grew stronger and stronger.

  In my head, I kept seeing her broken body lying on the bed. I’d also seen the “before” pictures. Twenty-one-year-old Christina had been pretty and popular, on the cheerleading squad in high school and the dance team in college. Her roommate had told the police she couldn’t imagine why anybody would want to kill her, but didn’t everyone say that?

  I wanted to do a bit more digging.

  Once I’d picked up extra muffins for Mack and Emmy, I headed back to the office. Emmy was nowhere to be seen, so I ate hers, but Mack was stationed in front of her computer.

  “You’re not thinking of cooking again, are you?” I asked, looking at the quiche recipe on her screen.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Honey, some people were born to cook, but you weren’t one of them.”

  “I just want to make one meal without it being a complete disaster. Is that too much to ask?”

  In her case, it probably was. “Here, have a muffin instead. Can you give me a hand with something?”

  “How did I guess?” she asked, brushing crumbs off her top as she took a bite.

  “I want to know more about Christina Walker.”

  “You think there’s something more to be found there?”

  “I’m not sure, but I want to check just in case.”

  “Leave it to me.”

  With Mack taking care of the initial searches on Christina, I could spend an hour or two catching up on my other cases. Or so I thought. I’d barely set foot inside my office when my phone rang.

  “Dan?”

  “Yes, Lyle?”

  “I’m stuck in my apartment,” he hissed.

  “What do you mean, stuck? Did the door jam or something?”

  “No, it’s not th
e door. The press is camped in the lobby. I tried to leave, and it was like being attacked by the zombies in Dawn of the Dead, except with flashbulbs going off. I managed to run back inside, but now I can’t get out.”

  “Have you tried the fire escape?”

  “They’re down there as well.” His voice held a hint of panic. “I’m supposed to be meeting Oliver at Riverley in an hour. What should I do?”

  If it had been anyone else, I’d have told them to grow a pair and elbow the reporters out of the way, but I couldn’t imagine Lyle forcing his way through the mob. A sigh escaped before I could stop it.

  “Give me a minute.”

  Nick Goldman’s office was next to mine, and we shared an assistant. He ran the protection division of Blackwood and had a whole array of bodyguards at his disposal.

  “Knock knock.”

  He glanced up from his desk. “What do you want? You want something, right?”

  I smiled sweetly. “Could I borrow a couple of your people? Not for long.”

  “What for?”

  “I’ve got an attorney and a pack of paparazzi, and the two aren’t mixing well.”

  “Is this the guy Oliver was grumbling about yesterday?”

  “Very likely, yes.”

  “Oliver would rather you sacrificed him to the baying hordes, I’m sure.”

  “And that would mean the Ghost got appointed another equally incompetent public defender in his place.”

  “Sounds like you’re having fun with the case. It’s a good thing you didn’t borrow my car—I’m not sure I could have come up with a punishment to rival this one.”

  “I hate all of you. Just go get Lyle, would you?”

  I heard him chuckling as I walked back to my office. After this was over, I was strongly considering buying another vehicle of my own. Borrowing was so last year. I could get a Hummer. Or maybe a tank. Even I couldn’t break a tank. How much did one cost, anyway? I opened up Google to consult, dialling Lyle’s number at the same time.

  “Someone’s coming to rescue you. And pack a bag, yeah? You’ll have to stay at Riverley until this is over.”

  “Is there a swimming pool nearby? I have to swim every morning or I get really stressed.”

  “It’s got a pool and a gym. And a tennis court. And a movie theatre.”