Holway nodded, his expression that of a professional considering the methods of a colleague. “Not like I would have done it, but certainly effective. Getting the first dosage right is a bitch, though.”
“You don’t think just anybody could have pulled it off?” Finally they were getting something, and George felt a certain relief. It would have stung if they had given Holway a lesser sentence—always provided the DA went with their suggestion—for basically nothing worthy. Not to mention the tirade they would have gotten from Chief Norris—or would get anyway. George wasn’t foolish enough to believe otherwise. “Our coroner thought it’s just a matter of math and that there’s spreadsheets on the web.”
“There are. Your coroner is right about that.” Holway wiggled on his bed until he was a little more upright. “But in theory everything is easy. In real life, ketamine can be a fickle bitch, especially in combination with alcohol. When it’s used as a drug for rape, people tend to not care about how much the victim is aware of. Usually it’s the farther gone the better. The three men were drowned, and the report my hacker got me said their feet weren’t bound. Which means they must have walked into that lake, and that means a very careful dosage of the ketamine.”
George made a mental note to tell Shireen about a leak in their security system. “You think we’re looking at pros?”
“Not necessarily contract killers. Could be a doctor or chemist as well. Somebody who’s used to juggling that kind of thing.”
“Anything else you can tell us?” George didn’t think so but was willing to let himself be surprised, since Holway’s mood had obviously improved during their chat.
“Not at the moment. I’ll call if I remember anything else.”
Strangely enough, George believed the assassin. He did sound sincere. Again he got the nagging feeling that they were being played. “Thank you very much. We would appreciate it.”
Holway gave a lazy salute with his nonbound hand before leaning back in his pillow and closing his eyes. They left the room, and Andi turned to the officer guarding Holway. “Be careful. I’m not sure when, but your charge has already made a plan for his escape.”
The young officer’s eyes widened. “You think so?”
“I’m sure.”
George managed to keep his mouth shut until they were back in the Escalade. “Do you really think Holway is going to attempt to flee? He seemed pretty banged up.”
“He was way too relaxed and forthcoming for somebody facing trial and prison. There’s no way he’s going to take that lying down.”
“I was under the impression that something was going on. Him already planning his escape would explain a lot. And if he does flee, at least Norris can’t blame us. You even warned them.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’s going to find a way.” Andi got into the car. “Let’s get back to the precinct. We can go over our list of suspects once more. Perhaps we can find somebody else who stands out.” It didn’t sound as if Andi was holding out much hope.
“Fun times.” George started the car.
19. Prime Suspects
BACK ATtheir desks, George uncapped a black marker while Andi opened his drawer. Last time there had been no more pens, but he hoped to find another paper clip. Distracting his hands always helped him to concentrate. To his utter delight, there was an entire box of differently shaped pens waiting for him. He carefully selected one before closing his treasure chest again. “Thank you,” he simply said. George didn’t even look up from where he was studying the whiteboard with all their suspects on it.
“You’re welcome.” He lifted the eraser pad and started cleaning off some of the lines without an apparent system, which was symptomatic for this case. When he reached the names of the wives, he looked at Andi. “Are we positive they didn’t have anything to do with it?”
Andi unscrewed the pen to get to the innards. “We’re positive none of them was at the crime scene. Though I think it’s entirely possible they were part of the planning. Probably not together, we have no evidence pointing at that, but one of them? As unlikely as it is, I’d leave them in.”
George nodded. Then he took his pink marker to draw squares around the women’s names, marking them as possible—yet unlikely—masterminds behind the scenes. “What about the sons? They are involved, though definitely indirectly. Probably more like catalysts than anything else. I’d like to leave them on, though.”
“Good idea. Who else do we have?” The spring turned into a straight line in his hands.
“Technically the mistresses of Harry Alexander McHill, though their alibis are ironclad. Shireen sent a final report on them yesterday. I don’t know if you’ve seen it.”
“Not yet. What about the sex workers David Hector frequented?”
“Too many. The few he visited twice appear to be clean.”
Andi sighed, while the plastic thingy with which the pen could be attached to a piece of paper came apart in his hands. “Which leaves Tabitha Clemént and Josephine Garr.”
“Indeed.” George framed their names in pink as well. “They fit the bill as perfectly or imperfectly as the wives. And we definitely have to factor in the possibility of another hit contract. Holway seemed to be convinced it had to be one of his fellow assassins. Not every broker is inexperienced or careless, and Shireen is good, but not a goddess.”
“Which means all the other suspects with enough money remain on the board. Theoretically it could have been each and every one of them.” Andi enjoyed the little grinding sound the plastic casing of the pen made when he started splintering it.
“Yes.” George looked resigned. “We need to ask Shireen to go through the finances of each of them, see if there are any suspicious movements, like in LaFarge’s case. That way we can hopefully narrow it down. You said it yourself—the kills must have at least cost a hundred and fifty thousand. LaFarge paid two million. I’d say we tell Shireen to look at any transfers between those hundred and fifty thousand up to three million, to be on the safe side. Not everybody has that kind of money lying around, which means we can hopefully cross a few names off the list.”
“I feel you.” The plastic casing was now a little pile of debris, which left the cartridge. Andi hesitated. Cartridges were messy.
