Peter felt the white static flare. “Come on, Durant. A social worker wasn’t going to do her any good. I’m on your side.”
“Felony child endangerment, kidnapping of a minor, and otherwise generally being an asshole,” the captain said. “State guidelines say eight to ten years. Although being an asshole is obviously a life sentence.”
“Somebody’s had their coffee this morning,” Peter said. “I have a question for you. When your tech guys went through KT’s phone and laptop, did they find anything about something called Gun Club?”
“Why on earth should I talk to you?” Durant asked. “In about five minutes there will be a felony warrant with your name on it.”
“Because I’m one of the good guys.”
“So you say,” Durant grumbled. “Anyway, the electronics are toast. The shooter put most of a magazine into them. And that’s not your concern, anyway. You need to bring young Ms. Thorsen to CPS right now. If you do, and if she is unharmed and not further traumatized by whatever rathole you slept in last night, I can talk to the prosecutor and possibly knock the charges down to a misdemeanor. Otherwise I will make it my personal mission to send you away for a very long time.”
“Durant. This thing is not over. A friend looked up the killer’s Toyota. I have some new information.”
“I don’t give a damn about your new information. We found the connection between Enderby and Reed. Enderby’s recycling had two magazines that were all cut up. We’re pretty sure he made the threat letter.”
Peter remembered the ransom-note quality of the thing. “You think Enderby was behind the whole thing?”
“It fits our theory,” Durant said. “Enderby wanted Katelyn Thorsen dead. He hired Reed to pull the trigger. When Reed screwed up, Enderby did it himself.”
“You got all that from some cut-up magazines? How would these guys even know each other?”
“Reed was a contract employee at Enderby’s startup for a year and a half. There’s your connection.”
“Still, Reed didn’t seem like a pro to me. Did he have any unexpected cash?”
“We haven’t found direct evidence of payment,” Durant admitted. “But Enderby’s bank records show high four-figure cash withdrawals every month going back three years. The nerd squad is still working on the communications angle. They’ll find something on the dark sites. Enderby worked in tech, so he presumably knew how to cover his tracks.”
“Sounds pretty thin,” Peter said.
“We’ll get there, trust me. We also have a motive. Enderby was a major investor in a couple of failed startups. Katelyn Thorsen’s reporting hit both companies hard. One went into bankruptcy and the other is on life support.”
“You think she was killed over a couple of feature articles?”
“According to Enderby’s ex-wife, he lost twelve million dollars. People have been killed for less. He had a basement full of guns. His ex said he was angry about a lot of things. Maybe he just decided that it was KT’s fault. We know he was a subscriber to her column.”
“Durant, everybody in the industry subscribed to her column. She’d been writing scoops about tech companies since before Facebook, before Google. She had bigger enemies than Scott Enderby. There has to be more to this. What about the part of the letter that told her to stop her investigation? That means a story she was still working on, not something from the past. So what’s that investigation, and what was Enderby’s connection to it?”
“We don’t know yet, but we’ll find something. Or else that was just to get us looking in the wrong direction. Enderby was a smart guy. If he wanted to pin the killing on a former mental patient, what better way to do it?”
“Okay, but when Reed failed and killed himself, why did Enderby feel like he had to step in? Nobody knew he was involved. Why put himself at risk? Why not just find another mental patient to do his dirty work? And hell, if his beef was with KT, why did he keep coming after Ellie and me?”
“Kitzinger is still looking into that,” Durant said. “There’s more to do, but we’re wrapping it up. The word’s come down from the top. There is no further threat to Eleanor Thorsen. You need to bring her in.”
Peter thought about the phone he’d taken from the Toyota’s glove box. “This is total bullshit,” he said. “You still don’t have anything that really links Enderby to Reed. No communications, no financials. Enderby had a silencer. Where did he get it? Was that gun registered to him? I know that Toyota wasn’t. Don’t you think that’s strange? And how in hell did Enderby find us at the motel?”
“Don’t rain on my parade, Mr. Ash. The killer is dead, you took care of that. Call it a win. Bring me Eleanor Thorsen and you can go back to your life.”
Peter’s jaw was tight. “How can you quit like this? A journalist was murdered. Over a story she was chasing. That’s a big deal.”
“The chief of police thinks so, too. And the mayor. That’s why they held a press conference this morning to announce that we’ve concluded our investigation into these unfortunate murders.”
“Durant, you’re hanging Ellie out to dry. She’s thirteen. Her life is in danger. This isn’t over and you know it.”
“It’s over because the mayor says it’s over. The killer is dead, and we have a large tech forum, the so-called Conference for the Future, that starts on Monday. Executives, entrepreneurs, and thought leaders are coming to Seattle from all over the world, and they’ll spend millions in the city’s hotels, restaurants, and bars. We don’t need to make our visitors nervous with a few unanswered questions.”
“So you’re just going to ignore them?”
“Of course not, Mr. Ash. I’ve been a cop for thirty-eight years. Kitzinger and O’Donnell will keep digging until they have as much of the story as they can find.”
