Because You Loved Me by M. William Phelps

for about the next twenty-four hours). What people said and the differences in their stories were vital parts of the investigation. Good investigators knew the slightest discrepancy in statements, although not pointing specifically to guilt, could ultimately solve a case.
    Linehan got into the backseat of the cruiser with Billy. Another officer drove. It was about 10:30 P.M .
    “We’re heading out,” Linehan told Sprankle.
    As they drove, Linehan asked Billy, “So how long have you and Nicole been together?”
    Billy seemed uncomfortable, antsy. “Fifteen months.”
    “How’d you guys meet?”
    Casual conversation. Linehan wasn’t fishing; he just wanted basic facts. Billy was under no obligation to answer.
    “A mutual friend,” said Billy. It was a lie; they had met in a chat room on the Internet.
    For the next few minutes, they discussed where Billy was from and the town of Willimantic itself. Billy seemed quite captivated by the town’s recent popularity.
    “The town was featured on a TV program; you know that?” asked Billy.
    “Actually,” Linehan said, “I saw it.”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “Bad publicity for the town, though, huh?”
    The program had depicted the town of Willimantic as a haven for drug use, especially heroin.
    Billy said, “Me and some of my classmates have tried to boost the town’s reputation.”
    “Well, you do what you can, you know.”
    “Yeah,” Billy said.

C HAPTER 20
     
    At 10:34 P.M ., Detective Sergeant Richard Sprankle walked into the kitchen of Jeanne’s house with Assistant Deputy ME Wayne DiGeronimo. A veteran detective who had worked all aspects of homicide throughout his career with the NPD, Sprankle was unnerved by the scene. Nashua was a community under his watch. This wasn’t the sort of crime the town saw all that much of. More recently, Sprankle was involved on an investigation level into the explosion of gang violence on the streets of downtown Nashua, a part of the job he took a particular interest in because so many children’s lives were at stake. Lately, the NPD was documenting an increase in the number of gang markings from the Latin Kings and Folk Nation, two of America’s more well-known street gangs—that just happened to be “bitter enemies.” Throughout downtown, in certain locations, “walls and other structures” were covered with both gangs’ indelible graffiti-laden scribes, which told investigators trouble was undoubtedly on the horizon.
    Could Jeanne’s death be gang-related? It was possible.
    Like Sprankle, Dr. DiGeronimo’s integrity for serving the needs of the community drove him. In the coming months, DiGeronimo would be one of several insiders to instigate a major investigation into corruption within his own office as two of his distinguished colleagues became the target of a major state police inquiry. A former chief forensic investigator with the ME’s office and an assistant deputy medical examiner were going to be the focus of what was reportedly widespread “forgery, fraudulent handling of recordable writings and tampering with public records.” In short, the pair allegedly conspired to “falsify cremation documents” and control the “certification of New Hampshire cremations” for a profit in the neighborhood of, some reports had it, twenty thousand dollars.
    Sprankle’s wide base of gang violence knowledge must have implored him to consider a gang-style robbery gone bad as he and DiGeronimo moved about the scene at Jeanne’s, studying her body, blood spatter evidence all about the kitchen and the immediate area around the house. Most of the gangs in Nashua used baseball bats to strike their victims motionless before robbing them. For a seasoned detective and experienced medical examiner, it was easy to tell by just a quick glance at Jeanne’s body that she had been beaten brutally with an object similar to a bat.
    As they entered the kitchen where Jeanne’s body lay, both Sprankle and DiGeronimo noticed the way