concluded that the Modex used in Riggio’s bomb wasn’t part of a government production. It was homemade, and therefore untraceable.
Starkey considered that, then searched through her books for information on the primary components.
TNT and ammonium picrate were available to the civilian population. You could get it damned near anywhere. RDX was different. Like the Modex, it was manufactured for the military only under government contract, but, unlike the Modex, it was too complicated to produce without industrial refining equipment. You couldn’t cook up a batch in your microwave. This was the kind of break Starkey was hoping to find in her manuals. Someone could make Modex if they had the components, but they couldn’t make the components. They would have to acquire the RDX, which meant that the RDX could be traced back to its source.
Starkey decided that this was a good angle to work.
She brought her notes to the NLETS computer, poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, then punched up a request form asking for matches with RDX. By the time she finished typing the form and entering the request, a few of the other detectives had begun to drift in for the start of the shift. The silence was gone. The spell was broken.
Starkey gathered her things and left.
Marzik was loading Amway products into her trunk when Starkey parked behind her outside the flower shop. Marzik carried the damned stuff everywhere and would make herpitch at the most inappropriate times, even when interviewing witnesses and, twice, when questioning potential suspects.
Starkey felt her stomach tighten. She had decided not to call Marzik on ratting her out to Kelso, but she now felt a wave of irritation.
They met on the sidewalk, Marzik saying, “Is the ATF going to take over the case?”
“He says no, but we’ll see. Beth, tell me you weren’t in there with the Amway.”
Marzik slammed the trunk and looked annoyed.
“Why shouldn’t I? They didn’t mind. I made a good sale.”
“Do me a favor and leave it in the trunk. I don’t want to see that again on this case.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I got two children to feed.”
Starkey was going to say more when a short, thin Latino teenager stepped out of the flower shop and looked at Marzik. “Detective? My dad says I got to get going soon. We got morning deliveries.”
Marzik introduced her to Lester Ybarra as the lead investigator on the case.
Starkey offered her hand. Lester’s felt clammy from being inside the flower shop. He smelled of chemicals and baby’s breath.
“Hi, Lester. I really appreciate your helping us out like this.”
Lester glanced at Marzik, flashing a shy smile.
“’s no pro’lem.”
Marzik said, “Lester saw someone using the phone across the street between one and one-fifteen the day the bomb went off, right, Lester?”
Lester nodded, and Marzik nodded with him.
“Can you describe that person to Detective Starkey?”
Lester glanced at Starkey, then snuck a quick peek back at Marzik. His eyes went to Marzik so much that Starkey figured he had probably developed a crush on her, which madeStarkey wonder if he had fabricated parts of his story to impress her.
Starkey said, “Before we get to that, Lester, how about helping me set the scene, okay? So I can picture it?”
“’s no pro’lem.”
“Your van was where? About here where my car is?”
“Yeah.”
Starkey was parked directly outside the florist’s front door in a red No Parking zone about fifteen feet from the corner.
“You always load the van out here in the street, bringing the flowers through the front door?”
“We got three vans. The other two was using the alley, so I had to be out here. I was supposed to leave by twelve-thirty, but we got this big order right when I was set to go. A funeral set, you know? Twelve sprays. We make a lotta money from funerals. My dad said I hadda wait, so I brought the van around front here.”
“You were sitting in the van, waiting, or
Starkey considered that, then searched through her books for information on the primary components.
TNT and ammonium picrate were available to the civilian population. You could get it damned near anywhere. RDX was different. Like the Modex, it was manufactured for the military only under government contract, but, unlike the Modex, it was too complicated to produce without industrial refining equipment. You couldn’t cook up a batch in your microwave. This was the kind of break Starkey was hoping to find in her manuals. Someone could make Modex if they had the components, but they couldn’t make the components. They would have to acquire the RDX, which meant that the RDX could be traced back to its source.
Starkey decided that this was a good angle to work.
She brought her notes to the NLETS computer, poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, then punched up a request form asking for matches with RDX. By the time she finished typing the form and entering the request, a few of the other detectives had begun to drift in for the start of the shift. The silence was gone. The spell was broken.
Starkey gathered her things and left.
Marzik was loading Amway products into her trunk when Starkey parked behind her outside the flower shop. Marzik carried the damned stuff everywhere and would make herpitch at the most inappropriate times, even when interviewing witnesses and, twice, when questioning potential suspects.
Starkey felt her stomach tighten. She had decided not to call Marzik on ratting her out to Kelso, but she now felt a wave of irritation.
They met on the sidewalk, Marzik saying, “Is the ATF going to take over the case?”
“He says no, but we’ll see. Beth, tell me you weren’t in there with the Amway.”
Marzik slammed the trunk and looked annoyed.
“Why shouldn’t I? They didn’t mind. I made a good sale.”
“Do me a favor and leave it in the trunk. I don’t want to see that again on this case.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I got two children to feed.”
Starkey was going to say more when a short, thin Latino teenager stepped out of the flower shop and looked at Marzik. “Detective? My dad says I got to get going soon. We got morning deliveries.”
Marzik introduced her to Lester Ybarra as the lead investigator on the case.
Starkey offered her hand. Lester’s felt clammy from being inside the flower shop. He smelled of chemicals and baby’s breath.
“Hi, Lester. I really appreciate your helping us out like this.”
Lester glanced at Marzik, flashing a shy smile.
“’s no pro’lem.”
Marzik said, “Lester saw someone using the phone across the street between one and one-fifteen the day the bomb went off, right, Lester?”
Lester nodded, and Marzik nodded with him.
“Can you describe that person to Detective Starkey?”
Lester glanced at Starkey, then snuck a quick peek back at Marzik. His eyes went to Marzik so much that Starkey figured he had probably developed a crush on her, which madeStarkey wonder if he had fabricated parts of his story to impress her.
Starkey said, “Before we get to that, Lester, how about helping me set the scene, okay? So I can picture it?”
“’s no pro’lem.”
“Your van was where? About here where my car is?”
“Yeah.”
Starkey was parked directly outside the florist’s front door in a red No Parking zone about fifteen feet from the corner.
“You always load the van out here in the street, bringing the flowers through the front door?”
“We got three vans. The other two was using the alley, so I had to be out here. I was supposed to leave by twelve-thirty, but we got this big order right when I was set to go. A funeral set, you know? Twelve sprays. We make a lotta money from funerals. My dad said I hadda wait, so I brought the van around front here.”
“You were sitting in the van, waiting, or
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