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“Backer and Doreen were paid by Helga to blow up Teddy’s palace, scoped the scene and found the turret a fun place. Ned Holman saw them use it two months before the murders, they could very well have turned it into their private party spot, could’ve even taken Rieffen and Monte up there. Either way they’d be easy to track. The scene’s always pointed to two killers. Now we’ve got a new pair.”
“Rieffen’s involved in the murder, makes sure she’s assigned to the scene. Cute. The obvious reason is monkeying with evidence, as in concealing any record of her presence and Scoppio’s. She was up there before I arrived, Lord knows what she did during that time.”
I said, “One thing she didn’t conceal was the semen stain on Doreen’s leg. On the contrary, she called it to your attention and that makes me wonder if she was playing head games. Backer always used condoms, we’ve assumed he made an exception for Doreen. What if he didn’t and the semen came from someone else?”
“Monte chokes out Doreen then abuses her corpse? Why would Rieffen point out the stain? And why not wipe it off right at the murder?”
“Maybe Monte didn’t want her to. Proud of himself, playing his own head game. On her own, Rieffen might’ve been more cautious. Or she thought it was fun, too. In either case, she knew the stain would be gone by the time the body got to Jernigan. That’s exactly the kind of high-risk adrenaline rush psychopaths crave. Rieffen takes control of the evidence, making herself look sharp-eyed in the process. Then she finds a quiet moment at the crypt and destroys the evidence, making the rest of the coroner’s staff look incompetent.”
“It’s not enough that I succeed,” he said. “You have to fail.”
“Antisocial, self-aggrandizing puffery at its finest, Big Guy.”
“One speck of DNA could’ve screwed the deal-if anyone would bother to analyze the stain. But she’s a goddamn C.I., would know how to do it right.”
“No reason to analyze DNA,” I said. “The way the bodies were posed, the obvious donor was Backer.”
“Speaking of Backer, maybe we’re talking foursome down to twosome. They all knew each other. One shot to the head, Desi’s out of the picture, they get the storage key. Leaving Doreen to deal with two armed baddies, piece of cake subduing her. Rieffen trains the little gun on her while Monte jams the big one. Then he strangles her, delivering an incredibly demeaning coup de grâce. Then they reposition the bodies.”
“They left Backer’s I.D. in place, but took Doreen’s because she’d lived with them, could be traced to them.”
“Rieffen and Monte living with a pyro, and Monte’s copping the fifty G’s says they knew about the plot. What if the foursome was a business arrangement, Alex?”
“They were all involved in the fire,” I said.
“Eliminate Backer and Doreen and the share doubles.”
“Foursome,” I said. “Two other kids were suspects in the Bellevue fire. Kathy Something, I forget the boy’s name.”
He snatched up his pad. “Kathy Vanderveldt, Dwayne Parris. Lindstrom said they turned out fine, she went to med school, he went to law school.”
“Lindstrom never actually met them, she’s relying on the previous agent’s notes. What if Kathy and Dwayne pla
“Wa
He called up a series of high school reunion sites, found one that offered yearbook photos for a fee, zeroed in on Seattle. Plugging in kathy vanderveldt struck gold at Center High. After confirming that Dwayne Parris had been a member of the same class, he used his own credit card to pay for the shots and printed.
Black-and-white shots, but clear enough.
Younger versions of the two faces we’d just seen carrying groceries.
Kathy Lara Vanderveldt had smiled warmly for the camera. Member of the science club, the nature club, Future Physicians of America.
Dwayne Charles Parris had maintained a narrow-mouthed stoicism. An average-looking kid, in every way, with bushy dark hair worn low over his forehead. Varsity hockey, Model U.N., accounting club.
I said, “She’s using her middle name as her first, he’s Carlo as in Italian for Charles. Wonder where he got Scoppio.”
“Maybe it means something in Italian.”
It did.
Explosion.
Milo said, “Monte go boom.”
He kept searching, starting with kathy vanderveldt. No criminal record on file, same for Dwayne Parris, but a five-year-old account of the Vanderveldt-Rieffen family reunion was featured in The Seattle Times. Serious human interest, because a hundred fifty-three people had participated. Page-wide group photo, Kathy nowhere to be seen but a small child with the same name sat in the front row, beaming.
Milo said, “Little cousin makes it to the party but Big Kathy doesn’t, because she’s using an aka. She’s ru
I said, “It’s possible that whatever she’s ru
“Another teen eco-terrorist who kept it going?”
“And whose career somehow got derailed. Doreen co
“ Reunion of the nature-hiking eco-pyros,” he said. “Okay, it’s time to have a go at Gayle’s ego.”
CHAPTER 39
Special Agent Gayle Lindstrom met us at a pizza joint in Westwood Village, not far from the Federal Building. College student clientele meant oceans of cheap beer on tap, not much in the way of décor.
Milo talked, Lindstrom listened, growing steadily more tense with each revelation. When he finished, she said, “Those two. Oh, crap.”
“Kathy and Carlo are your buddies.”
“They’re names in a file.”
“You made it like they turned out sterling. She’s a doctor, he’s a lawyer, all that’s missing is an Indian chief.”
“I said that because that’s what’s in the file. There’s absolutely nothing pointing to them being criminal, let alone homicidal.”
“All you know is what you read.”
“Cut it out,” she snapped. “You don’t have to make me feel stupider than I already do.”
“If you had nothing to do with working Vanderveldt and Parris, there’s no reason for you to feel stupid-”
“You just don’t get it, do you? The first time we met, you figured out I’ve got my issues. As in having trouble ignoring obviously brain-dead decisions being made with more concern for butt-covering than the public’s welfare. I like to tell myself if I’d been in charge, 9/11 never would’ve happened. Maybe that’s self-delusional crap, maybe I need to stroke myself because the job’s turned out to be not what I had in mind. However you want to see it, I’m an outlier and what I need-what I needed-was a reprieve. When I learned you nailed the Swiss witch, I was ready to buy you di