It actually made sense. Protecting the family was important to the three grandfathers, as the incident with Gideon Gartner proved. George could see how they wouldn’t want their grandsons dropping out of university without a degree. He glanced at Andi, who shrugged. It fit what they had found out about the three families until now. Sometimes it still surprised him how dysfunctional some marriages and entire families were, even though he saw proof of humanity’s imperfections on a daily basis.
“Let me sum this up. After you raped Tabitha Clemént and Josephine Garr, your fathers saw to it that the two women retracted their statements with the police. They cut you three off, froze your trusts, and dissolved them in the end. Even though your fathers bailed you out, your relationship to them died completely after that because you felt they were treating you unfairly while they thought you had to pay in some way for your stupidity, and your mothers didn’t know what had been going on. Some mysterious benefactor, probably in the shape of your grandfathers, paid for the rest of your time at Harvard, but you don’t really know who it was, though you’re sure it wasn’t your mothers. Am I correct?”
“In everything but the rape,” Portius confirmed. George was a little disappointed. He had hoped to get them with this. It seemed Portius was perhaps a better lawyer than he had originally thought—or more likely, he simply was hypersensitive when it came to this special topic. Andi was leaning back in his seat, sharing George’s opinion that they probably wouldn’t be getting anything else from the three men. Dominic McHill seemed to have lost his speech completely, and Lester Miller was again making a visible effort to keep his mouth shut.
“Well, thank you for your time, gentlemen. We’re asking you to stay in Charleston for the time being in case we have more questions. Let me show you outside.”
He got up, waited for the three men to follow his example before he led them out of the precinct. George stayed just inside the main door to see if they were talking to each other. McHill just left as quickly as he could while Miller and Portius did talk for a while. Judging from the wild gesturing and agitated body language, it wasn’t something positive. After ten minutes, the two men parted. George went back to their desks, where Andi was already waiting. A quick glance around showed they were almost alone in the bullpen, and the few other detectives present were at the other end of the room, focused on their computers. George sat down on his chair, grabbing one of his trusted markers.
“What do you think?”
Andi pinched the bridge of his nose. “That we didn’t get as much as we hoped.”
“You don’t like it.” It wasn’t a question. George didn’t like it either. He had really hoped for some solid lead. Something. Anything.
“No, I don’t.” Andi closed his eyes. “I mean, these men are assholes. They have roofied and raped two women, and their biggest concern about the whole thing was that they lost their trust funds. And Tabitha Clemént and Josephine Garr, they had something terrible done to them, and then they were forced to give up justice. I don’t know about you, but a part of me thinks the way these three men died was too nice.”
“Which brings us right to the questions.” George got up to stand in front of his whiteboard, glad he could steer the topic away from justice and fairness. As he had seen before, he and Andi had differing opinions on the matter. He didn’t want a repeat of this discussion now, not only because it wouldn’t help their case but also because he could understand Andi’s point of view a bit too well for comfort, especially after talking to both Tabitha and Josephine and the three men who raped them. George found it hard to defend his own views when he could comprehend those of his partner so easily. Needless to say, he’d always been last to be chosen for the groups in debating society.
“In light of what we found out, I get why Tabitha and Josephine would go after the fathers, not the sons.” He looked at the names of the two women on the whiteboard, that was already a chaos of lines and colors. He had hoped he would be able to erase their names or at least get some other names to replace them or a semblance of order into the chaos. No such luck. “They clearly had plans when they went to the cabin. What I don’t get is why they waited so long.”
Andi was rummaging through his drawer, reminding George of the pens he needed to buy. Apparently there were none left because Andi came up with a paper clip. He started bending it even before he had settled back in his chair. “Perhaps the same reason we suspected with Gartner. They didn’t think we would make the connection. Which if it had worked, would have been beautiful. The victims’ own maliciousness would have protected them. We know they didn’t kill them. What I’d love to know is what they had planned. And we have already established that it could still be they were involved somehow.”
George wrote “time” on the whiteboard, underlining it. He had to admit Andi was right. It would have been a warped kind of justice if the cruelty the victims had shown the women would have made it impossible to find their killers.
Andi was forming a spiral out of the paper clip.
George tapped his pen against the whiteboard. “What about the three sons?”
“Dominic McHill has added heroin to his alcohol abuse since we’ve last met him. His days are definitely numbered. Lester Miller and David Hector Portius III were both highly agitated. Their pheromones and blood pressure were all over the place. They did rape these women, and they know it.”
“Then why didn’t Tabitha and Josephine go after the sons? Or just the sons? No, it’s like Tabitha said, the sons are not in a good place. It would make sense to kill the fathers because they screwed them over.” George was staring at the whiteboard, still fixated on the extensive timeline. “Now who beat them to it?”
“That’s the bonus question. We know it was two females, most probably professionals unless we find another pair of women gravely wronged by Portius, McHill, and Miller, and they must have had eyes on the victims as well. No hitman worth their money would forgo watching the mark.” Andi threw the spiral, formerly known as a paper clip, into the trash and got up. “How about we get lunch, and then we can pay Shireen a visit, see if she’s found something new.”
George was very much on board with this idea. Anything to get away from the depressing whiteboards with their abundance of leads and suspects. “I could eat. Let’s walk over to that little bistro with the delicious pizza. We can take some panna cotta for Shireen when we return.”
“Smart man, bribing her with sweets.”
“I’ve learned from the best.” George patted Andi’s shoulder when he passed him.
17. Finding Suspects
AS ITturned out, bribing Shireen wasn’t necessary. The hacker was practically vibrating out of her skin when they found her in her usual place in the middle of the IT department. “There you are! I was thinking about texting you. Oh, is that for me?”
She tucked her tablet under her left arm to grab the box with the panna cotta George was holding out like a sacrifice for an angry god.
“It’s all yours.”
“Thank you.” Shireen managed to open the lid without losing her tablet. “Oooh, panna cotta. And you brought a spoon!” She almost squealed when George handed her the wooden spoon.
“You said you wanted to see us?” Andi reminded her gently. Shireen could get a bit sidetracked when offered sweets.
“Oh yes, I did. Hold that for me, would you? But don’t touch it!” She gave George a warning glance. He took the box and the spoon back, keeping them at a respectable distance from his body to show he didn’t even think of touching the sugar. Seemingly satisfied, Shireen grabbed her tablet from under her arm and started the familiar swiping and typing. The flat-screen came to life, showing a website Andi easily recognized as one from the darknet.
“I’m pretty sure I found your killer.”
“You did what?” George put the panna cotta down on a nearby table. Andi couldn’t have said it better.
