Chapter 8
Green led
the way to the lab entrance, then held the door back with one hand. “The tapes
from the A.T.M. are date and time-stamped. It made it fairly easy to find the
time frame we were looking for. We want you to tell us if you recognize any of
the men going into the shop during that time period, Isabel.”
As she
walked in she said, “I’ll do my best. The idea of some murderer hanging around
where I work is creepy.”
Briscoe
and Green settled her in front of the screen.
“We
started it at about
The
detectives hovered near her while she watched, waiting for some sign of
recognition. It had played for only a few minutes when she pointed. “I’ve seen
him before. His name is Garrett. He’s a mocha latte with a shot of almond.”
Minutes later, she noted, “There’s Brent, the guy who was in the shop when you
were there on Monday.”
“We ruled
him out yesterday. He was working the night the murder took place,” Green
explained.
“That’s
Mario Perez,” she indicated. “But I don’t think he’s the one you’re looking
for, either. He usually comes in early, before he goes in to work at Perez and
Hoffman Accounting around the corner. I know his last name because he came in
wearing a name badge one day. He said his father started the business.” She
nodded. “And there he is coming out. He must have just grabbed a coffee that
day.”
The tape
played for several long minutes before she said, “There’s a guy named Allen
Jarvis. He comes in with his girlfriend sometimes on the weekends. He always
orders a cappuccino and she has a soy chai. The guy who went in behind him
could’ve been Reuben, but I didn’t see his face very well.”
Briscoe
motioned to the technician who then reversed the tape and slowed it down so she
could get a closer view. After watching carefully, she concluded, “Yeah, that’s
Rueben. I don’t know his last name. He usually comes in on Wednesdays and
Fridays. I work this afternoon, so I can probably get his last name for you
then. If he doesn’t show up today, I’ll try on Friday.”
After
watching for a while longer, she said, “That’s Garrett leaving, so I guess he’s
not the one. The guy in the black pants is Eric Fisher. He looks like he’s
about seventeen, so I asked him one day why he wasn’t in school. He said he was
twenty-six. I didn’t believe him so I made him show me his driver’s license.
That’s how I know his last name. And the one in the blue shirt is Russell.”
A short
time later, Green stopped the tape. “Okay. We’re up to the time that the e-mail
was sent, so at this point the killer is inside.” Indicating his list, he
noted, “We have four names here: Allen Jarvis, Reuben, Eric Fisher, and
Russell. The guy we’re looking for has to be one of these unless it was someone
you didn’t recognize.”
“Remembering people gets me bigger tips, so I’m pretty good with names
and faces. If he’s been in several times like you said, I’m sure I recognized
him.”
“We’ll
check out the two that we can,” Briscoe informed her. “We’ll also get a still
shot of the two you only knew first names for so you can show them to your
coworkers. Maybe one of them will know their last names.”
“Some of
those guys are pretty good tippers, so try not to scare away any but the one
you’re looking for when you check them out, okay?” she suggested pointedly.
Green
smiled as they escorted her to the door. “Thanks for coming by, Isabel, we
appreciate it. You’ve been a big help. We’ll be in touch in the next day or
so.”
***“What did you find out?” Van Buren asked as
she slid into a booth.
“Neither
has a sheet in this state,” Green answered, laying down a lunch menu. “While
we’re waiting for the out of state report, we thought we’d check with the
D.M.V. and see if they have an address for either one.”
As Green
sipped his water, Briscoe added, “We’ve got still shots of all four regulars
who were in the shop that day. We’ll use the ones of Fisher and Jarvis to make
sure we have the right guy with the D.M.V. and we’re going to take copies of
the other two over to Isabel. We’re hoping that she’ll have a last name for at
least one of the others by this afternoon.”
Van Buren
nodded. “Sounds like you’re making progress. The chief sure will be glad to
hear that. He’s been getting flak from above. With only four men to check out,
hopefully you’ll have someone who looks good for the murder in the next couple
of days. And since you seem to be making some headway, I’ll buy a little more
time for you to continue working this case exclusively for the rest of the
week.”
“As soon
as we get a current address on any one of them, we’re going to start digging,”
Green promised. “If we can’t find them that way, we’ll try staking out the
coffee shop to see if they show up.”
“Well be
discreet when you start nosing around their personal lives,” she cautioned. “We
don’t want the killer to get wind of the investigation until we’ve narrowed
things down a little. Otherwise, he’s liable to be long gone before we even
know which of the four is our man. If you talk to any one of them, make sure
you’ve completely eliminated him before moving on to the next so you don’t have
too many irons in the fire at once.”
“‘Discreet’ is our middle name,” Briscoe assured her. “By the time our
killer even realizes we’re looking at him, he’ll be staring at the world from a
jail cell.”
She shook
her head in amusement at his exaggerated confidence and picked up the menu.
“What’s good here?”
Briscoe
handed her a card with the day’s specials. “The fish and chips are always
great.”
“I think
I’m going to have the oysters,” Green decided.
“Oysters?
Have you got a date with Ann tonight?” Briscoe asked.
Van Buren
chuckled as Green gave him a threatening look. “One of these days, Lennie…”
***“Ann, would you run a local and out of state
check on Rueben Steiner when you get a minute?” Green asked as he came to a
stop beside her desk.
“Sure.
But the power has been blinking on and off all day,” Cordova complained. “The
back-up system has been kicking in, but it’s wreaked havoc on the computers.
Every time I request a search we get cut off about half-way through. Con Ed
says they’re working down the street and are having problems with one of the
main lines. I sent the request several times, but there’s still no answer on
the out of state arrest records for Jarvis or Fisher.”
“All
right. Keep checking and let us know when you get something back.”
At her
nod, he turned to Briscoe. “Since we have an address for Allen Jarvis, you want
to start checking him out right away or do you want to wait and see what the
search brings up first?”
“Are you
kidding me? We’ve been looking for this guy for over a week. I say we go with
what we’ve got. By the end of the day, I’d like to either eliminate Jarvis or
have him in for a sit-down.”
***The maintenance man shook his head. “I’m not
supposed to let anyone in the building unless the manager says okay and he’s
not here right now.”
“We’re
His eyes
widened. “Me? I don’t know nothing about any murder. I only work here.”
“We want
to believe you,” Green assured him, “but you have to admit it looks kind of
suspicious when you won’t let us in so we can investigate.”
He pulled
a key ring from his pocket and selected a single key. “I don’t want trouble.
You go in. But if my boss asks, you tell him you made me, okay?”
Green
smiled as he and Briscoe entered the apartment building. “We’ll tell him, Mr.
Pedrone. Thanks.”
As they
headed to the elevator, Briscoe said, “Don’t you just love foreigners? They’re
so cooperative.”
“Having
to worry about the I.N.S. showing up on your doorstep will do that to you,”
Green noted dryly.
Exiting
on the sixth floor, they made their way to a door at the end of the hallway.
Green
checked his notebook. “Number 602. This is it.” He knocked and took a step back
to wait.
Moments
later the door opened a few inches and an attractive young woman peered out
under the safety chain. “Yes?”
Holding
his badge up to the door, Green said, “We’re police detectives. We’re looking
for Allen Jarvis.”
“He isn’t
here right now. Is something wrong?”
“We’re
investigating a homicide,” Green informed her. “Are you his girlfriend?”
“Yes. I’m
Carrie Stockwood.”
“May we
come in and ask you a few questions?”
After
contemplating for a few seconds, she unlatched the chain and opened the door
wider. “I suppose so.”
Once
inside, Green asked, “Do you live here?”
She
looked from one to the other. “Yes, but why do you want to know? And what does
Allen have to do with a homicide?”
“We don’t
know that he had anything to do with it,” Briscoe conceded. “If you’ll answer
some questions for us, maybe you can convince us that he didn’t.”
“We’re
looking into the death of a young girl,” Green explained. “Whoever killed her
sent her an e-mail from a coffee shop Allen frequents. We’re talking to
everyone who was in the shop at the time the e-mail was sent.”
She
crossed her arms and stated confidently, “Well, I know Allen didn’t do it. What
do you want to know?”
“We need
to know where he was between
“He went
on a business trip somewhere around the first week of the month, but I don’t
remember exactly what days. If he wasn’t out of town, then he was here with me,
like always,” she answered. “He gets up around
“Where
does he work?” Green asked.
“He’s a system’s
analyst for Unitech on Forty-third and
“What
kind of hours does he work?”
“He gets
to work between
“We’re
just exploring every lead in order to find a young girl’s killer,” Briscoe
assured her.
“We
appreciate your help, Ms. Stockwood,” Green said as he and Briscoe walked to
the door. “Thanks for your time.”
On their
way to the elevator, Briscoe asked, “So, do you think she’s capable of keeping
him that busy?”
Green
nodded and grinned. “A pretty young college girl with a body like that? There’s
not a doubt in my mind! But we should probably check out her story anyway.”
***When the detectives returned to the precinct,
they were met at their desks by both Van Buren and Cordova.
“We can
cross Allen Jarvis off of the list,” Green reported. “It was his good fortune
that he attended a staff meeting in
“And
Rueben Steiner was in early traffic court contesting a ticket he got in New
Jersey, so he’s not your man, either,” Van Buren informed them.
Cordova
handed Green a computer print-out. “There were no arrests for Rueben Steiner or
Allen Jarvis, but nationwide there were five Eric Fishers with records from
other states. I compared their mug shots with the picture we have.” Pointing to
an item on the print-out, she added, “This is the sheet for your Eric Fisher.”
Green scanned it and gave her an encouraging
smile. “Thanks for sticking with it,” he said, passing the paper to Briscoe.
After
reading the indicated item, Briscoe noted, “Not only does he have a record, but
the offense involved a little girl. Looks like Josh Lewis is otherwise known as
Eric Fisher.”
“That
would seem to narrow down your list,” Van Buren agreed. Addressing Cordova, she
added, “Check Fisher’s name against the sex offender registry and see what you
come up with.”
As
Cordova nodded and left to comply, Briscoe gave Green a thoughtful look.
“Didn’t Isabel say she knew Fisher’s last name because she had seen his
driver’s license?”
Green
nodded. “Yeah, I think she did.”
“Then why
didn’t either of the Eric Fishers we found drivers’ licenses for at the D.M.V.
this afternoon match this guy’s photo?”
With a
shrug, Green answered, “I don’t know. It does seem like one of them should
have.” His puzzled look suddenly gave way to one of realization. “Maybe we
didn’t find one with the New York D.M.V. because the license he showed Isabel
was from another state.” He moved to look over Briscoe’s shoulder at the
print-out, then pointed. “Another state, like
“Let’s
call Isabel,” Briscoe suggested.