Jayne and Steelie - 01 - Freezing (20 page)

The pathologist chuckled and her assistant passed her an implement.

‘Look at your screen again.'

They watched as a dental pick came into view and traced an oval on the outside surface of the canine.

‘See how it's slightly whiter there on the labial surface?'

They could barely discern it and said as much. Dr Bodell seemed to be enjoying herself.

‘A very expensive dentist somewhere would love the answers you two are giving.' Her assistant laughed and the pathologist continued.

‘This is a high quality synthetic filling. Plus, there's some bonding between the canine and the lateral incisor.' She looked up at the two visitors. ‘That kind of work isn't the norm for most of the Jane and John Does we get through here, so if she is in the system, the haystack just got smaller, gentlemen.'

She looked back down at the body. ‘I can see why such good work was done on a mouth like this. Look at the teeth, the smile.'

She was now running the camera slowly across the front teeth. Scott mentally agreed that the teeth seemed unusually uniform in size and color.

Dr Bodell said, ‘If you've got the money to preserve a smile like that, you spend it.'

Scott looked from the screen to the pathologist. At that moment, the autopsy assistant stepped to the side, affording him a view of the body again. Scott's eyes automatically went to its mouth where metal clips now held back the corners of the upper lips. The dead woman appeared to be smiling.

Jayne came down the stairs and followed the voices to her mother's kitchen. Marie was wrapping sandwiches in wax paper while Steelie sat on the counter.

Steelie looked up at her and said, ‘Your mom wants to help “cleanse” your apartment.'

‘Thank you.' Jayne gave a slight shudder. ‘I'd love to paint it, actually. Just totally lose all trace that a prowler was there.'

‘Understood,' Marie said as she put the wax parcels into a paper bag. She handed this to Jayne. ‘For the Agency lunch today. The vegetarian's for Steelie of course and I want you to ask Carol how she likes my wasabi mayonnaise.'

Jayne gave her a hug that lasted so long, Marie looked over her shoulder at Steelie and raised her eyebrows. Then she kissed her daughter. ‘Does this mean you'll stay here a few more days?'

Jayne smiled but only said, ‘Come on, Steelie. Carol's going to beat us to the office at this rate.'

As they walked to Jayne's truck, Steelie asked, ‘Did you try to call Scott again?'

‘Yes, and it went to voicemail again but this time I left a detailed message.' She gave a shrug as she rolled down her window and started down Marie's winding driveway. ‘Who knows what's going on out there? For all we know, the stakeout turned into a shootout.'

Steelie glanced at her. ‘It may be Arizona but it's not the Wild West.' But she gauged Jayne's mood and added: ‘Look, bad news travels fast, so if you haven't heard anything, he's fine.'

Eric and Scott had been questioning Wayne Spicer for two hours in an interview room at the Phoenix police station. Wayne had waived his right to a lawyer, so Scott had started by asking about the body in the freezer, her rigid smile coming into his mind as he looked at Wayne across the table. The suspect hadn't spoken except to ask for a soda, which he was still nursing, wiping spills from his chin with the inside edge of the shirt he'd been given to wear when the police took his clothes as evidence.

‘She was a nice looking woman, Spicer.' Scott leaned on his elbows and tilted his head at the man, whose eyes closed against his voice. ‘Where'd you meet her?' He leaned back in his chair. ‘Were you watching her for a long time?'

Wayne's eyelids flew open but he didn't speak.

‘What'd you do with the rest of her clothes? You keep those? Hmm, Spicer? You wear 'em?'

Wayne cupped his large hand around the soda can, swigged quickly, and wiped his chin.

‘Not really your size, her clothes. She was just a tiny thing.' Scott leaned back across the table. ‘What'd you do? Trick her to come with you?'

There was a flicker of a response in Wayne's face but he still did not speak.

When Eric took over questioning ten minutes later, he began by repeating questions he'd asked earlier in a different form. ‘That really is a nice van you got, Wayne, with the cot in the back. Like going on road trips?'

No response.

‘You like going north? Need to get a taste of rain every now and then, eh?' Eric chuckled and put his hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

‘You like Portland? You've been up there, right, Wayne? How about Georgia? Savannah's the real thing, isn't it?'

Scott watched from the wall. There wasn't even a flicker in Wayne's eyes as he looked directly at Eric.

Scott spoke without lifting his head from the wall. ‘When were you going to cut her up?'

Wayne jumped up, sending his chair backwards to the floor. Eric got to his feet, preparing to fend off the big man but Wayne was stumbling backwards, toward the wall behind him and pointing his finger at Scott, who was standing at the ready across the room.

‘I would
never
do that to her!' Wayne's voice cracked. ‘She . . . I . . .' He faltered, his face suffusing with blood. ‘I would never do that.' After a moment, he righted the metal chair and sat back down, wrapping his hands around the soda can.

Eric glanced back at Scott, who nodded. Eric asked, ‘Want another soda?'

Wayne contemplated this for a moment and then nodded mutely.

‘OK, we'll get you a soda.'

The agents left the room together and asked the police officer standing outside to wait with the suspect. Once Scott closed the door, he stopped in the hallway, ran his hands through his hair, and then smoothed it all down again. Eric crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Phoenix police officers and administrative staff passed but took no notice of them.

‘Well, at least you got a reaction,' Eric began.

Scott puffed out his cheeks. ‘He doesn't like talking about the dismemberment.'

‘Let's push him on it, then.'

Scott nodded. ‘This guy has been under the radar according to NCIC. No criminal record, no voting record, no parking tickets. Where's he been putting the bodies? And why go back and forth between Georgia and Arizona?'

‘I'll get the soda.' Eric went down the hallway and returned a few minutes later with a can. They re-entered the interview room and the police officer left.

This time, Scott sat at the table. He waited for Wayne to start the next soda before speaking.

‘Let's talk about the cutting.'

Wayne's eyes flashed but he didn't speak.

Scott continued. ‘We know you like to cut them up.'

Wayne frowned but remained silent.

‘After all, that's what you did with Eleanor Patterson. And the others.'

Wayne gripped the edge of the table.

‘Yep, we found your stuff on the side of the freeway. Thought you could hide Mrs Patterson by cutting her into pieces, didn't ya?'

Wayne started breathing heavily and looked first at Scott, then at Eric, who was standing by the door, and then back at Scott.

‘Well, she's getting her own back. Her finger's pointing at you, Spicer. The others will too.'

Wayne wiped sweat from his upper lip.

‘Where's the rest of Mrs Patterson, huh, Spicer? I'm sure her family would like to know. Where'd you put the rest of them, the other girls?'

Wayne looked panicked for a moment, then used the hem of his shirt to wipe his face all over. ‘Uh . . . I need a break.'

Scott rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

‘I need a break,' repeated Wayne. ‘I need to go to the bathroom.' He tried to smile. ‘Can I get something to eat, too?'

‘OK,' replied Eric.

Wayne looked up at him gratefully.

‘Someone will bring you lunch and take you to use the head.'

The agents left the room and ushered in the police officer through the doorway.

‘You rattled him,' said Eric.

‘Let's get on to the ME; see if she's got a hit off of those teeth yet. If the woman in his freezer is from Georgia, this case will have a bow on it.'

But Scott's call to Dr Bodell was re-routed as soon as he identified himself. She had directed the receptionist to put the agent through to Cliff Lockwood, one of three medical investigators in the Medical Examiner's Office. Scott already knew that two of them were former detectives and one was a forensic anthropologist turned investigator. They went to scenes of all unattended deaths, tracked down identifying material on every Jane and John Doe in Maricopa County, and notified next-of-kin for any body processed where the family was not already aware of death.

Cliff Lockwood was one of the former detectives and had been at the ME's Office since – according to Dr Bodell – the year dot. When he came on the line, his voice was as gravelly as that of a life-long smoker.

‘Yeah, we got an ID on your girl already.' Lockwood broke off to cough and brought up a loogie that Scott could hear being spat out somewhere.

‘I'm ready,' he replied impatiently, raising his voice over Lockwood's hacking.

‘You've got a Katherine Ruth Alston. That's Alpha, Lima, Sierra, Tango, Oscar, November.' He cleared his throat. ‘Date of birth: one niner of 'seventy-nine. Caucasian. Five-six, one-twenty-five. Brown and brown. Missing from Los Angeles, California on five-twelve of 'ninety-nine.'

Scott immediately started calculating. Her disappearance pre-dated the cases of the missing prostitutes in Atlanta. Had she been Spicer's first kill and he had kept her body as a prize? ‘NCIC number?'

‘Mike-one-niner-seven-seven-three-one-niner-five-three.'

‘What were her circs?'

‘Suspicious missing – abduction. She was an adult, car found on a freeway, no sign of a struggle. A student reported missing by her parents. I'll be making contact today.'

‘Which freeway?'

‘Says the One-oh-one. One more thing, Houston. We ID'd her through dental records on NCIC and there's a note on the file that they didn't come direct from a doc. Some shop out your way was involved. An Agency Thirty-two One. You know it?'

‘You could say that.'

‘What the hell do they do?'

‘Forensic profiles of mispers.'

Lockwood let out a low whistle and said, ‘Leave it to you Californians to find a niche market. They been around long?'

‘No, but you'll see their stuff on NCIC, usually related to cold cases. I'll bet your ME's have heard of them.'

As soon as Scott was off the call, he picked up another voicemail message from Jayne. He first relayed the Alston identification details to Eric and then Jayne's description of the results of Jeppsen's search of the Agency 32/1 offices.

‘Do they have any idea what the bug's about?' Eric asked.

‘I don't know. But it's gotta be one of their own cases.'

‘Didn't you give Jayne the Patterson ID on the Agency's landline?'

‘Yeah but I'm not concerned about someone overhearing that. It wouldn't mean anything to an outsider.'

‘We can take a minute for you to call her now.'

‘No.' Scott looked at his partner. ‘What I want is to get in there with our new ammunition against Spicer.'

‘Fine. Let's wrap him up.'

EIGHTEEN

E
ric had resumed his position near the door inside the interrogation room. Scott sat across the table from Wayne, who appeared to have perked up after eating. His hands were clasped loosely on the table as though he was about to close a business deal and he was smiling childishly, like he had a secret.

Scott opened the thin manila folder he had brought into the room. It held a single typed sheet of paper, the font small and all in capitals, difficult to read upside down. From Wayne's position, it could look like a printout of a police document. From Scott's side of the table, it looked like a printout of turn-by-turn driving directions from the Mission Hotel to the Maricopa County Medical Examiner's Office. Scott looked down at the sheet of paper and spoke.

‘We know where you picked her up, Spicer. The girl in your freezer.'

Wayne's smile faltered.

Scott looked at him. ‘The One-oh-one a favorite of yours?'

Wayne jerked his arms off the table, putting his hands out of sight.

Scott looked at the sheet of directions again, then stared at Wayne. ‘She must have been different from the other ones.' He watched a bead of sweat develop on Wayne's upper lip. ‘We figured she was different because you didn't cut her up.'

Wayne suddenly bared clenched teeth and pounded his fist on the table. ‘Stop saying that word!'

‘But once you had her in the van—'

‘It wasn't a van!' Wayne almost yelled. Then he spoke more softly. ‘It was a car.'

Scott remained silent.

Eric spoke quietly from his position by the door. ‘Your car, Wayne? You have a car as well as a van?'

Wayne smiled at Eric's gentle tone, and directed his reply to him, ignoring Scott who was now leaning back in his chair. ‘No, I
had
a car. The van's mine but it wasn't always mine.'

‘When did you get the van?'

‘A little while ago.' Wayne's eyes looked beyond Eric, towards the door. A smile played on his lips. ‘I was going to go away in it. With Katie.'

‘Who sold you the van?'

‘I don't know his name.'

‘What'd you pay for it?'

‘It was a trade. I traded him my car for his van.'

‘That's pretty unusual, Wayne. Most people like cash. Sounds like you're making this up. It's always been your van.'

‘No, I told you, it was a trade. That nosy hag across the street will tell you. She saw the whole thing.'

Scott tensed. If Wayne had a witness, then this was a different ballgame. He waited impatiently for Eric's next question.