this.
In case it is, yeah. I doubt it, but you can’t unring a bel .”
“I don’t mean to be al doom and gloom,” Mann said. “But could these be Robby’s? Did he bring a set with him?”
“On vacation?” Vail asked. She shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t see any. But I just don’t know.”
“Before we go down that path,” Brix said, “let’s first see if the serial number matches any used by LEOs in the area. If you real y think it’s possible, cal Robby’s PD and see if they keep records on which detectives get which cuffs. Or, we can check with Peerless and see if they know which organization or retailer they shipped that set to.”
“Good luck with that,” Mann said under his breath.
“Let’s also get an ID on the vic. Find out the usual stuff. Who she is, who’d want her dead. Who had access to this quad.” Brix swiveled his body and looked around. “Which is pretty much anybody. Security cameras?”
“I’l look into it,” Gordon said. “I doubt they’re aimed at the street. That fountain is damn close to the sidewalk. The cameras, if there are any, would be turned in toward the building. I think this guy knew what he was doing.”
“But,” Dixon said, “how do you kil a woman out in the open, during the day, in a public area, and have no one see it?”
Vail shook her head. “You kil her offsite. Crush her trachea, if that’s what he did, then bring her here. Get her out of your van in such a way that it looks like you’re walking arm in arm. If it is Cannon, he’s easily strong enough to support her weight and carry her alongside him for fifty to a hundred feet. He sets her down beside him at the fountain, makes two quick slits to her wrists, and then he walks away and melts into the street and cars. The blood drains slowly due to gravity. Some washes away in the fountain.” She examined everyone’s face. “It can be done.”
Dixon rubbed both hands across her eyes. “Al right. So where are we?”
“We ran Mayfield’s home phone LUDs,” Brix said, referring to the local usage detail printout of cal s made and received. “And we got a log of his mobile cal s. His cel was one provided by his employer and only had work-related cal s to and from the county mosquito and pest control abatement division. And a few to wineries and public buildings. We cross-checked, and they al corresponded to jobs he had—
places where he sprayed and whatever the hel else he did with his time when he wasn’t kil ing people.”
Vail’s attention was split between Brix and what Matt Aaron was doing with the victim’s body. “And his home phone?”
“Nothing popped out at us. We were stil sifting through it when this cal came in.
We’re going further and further back in case he wasn’t as careful early on.”
“Any cal s to James Cannon?”
Brix pul ed his phone and began pressing buttons. “We’ve stil got some unidentified numbers to track down, a few unlisteds. We should have an answer soon on that. And we should’ve also heard back from NSIB on whether they got a home address from the wireless carrier. I’m gonna see if I can scare them up right now.”
“We spoke with Ian Wirth,” Dixon said. “He gave us a rundown on the application process for starting a winery.”
“My brother texted me on the way over here minutes ago. He’s done with his meeting and should be cal ing me soon. Get anything from Wirth?”
Dixon fil ed them in on what she and Vail had learned.
“After I fol ow up with NSIB,” Brix said, “I’l get someone started on cal ing the TTB and ABC ASAP, just in case the vintners organization is a dead end. If my brother gets us anything we don’t already know, I’l give you a shout.” He pressed SEND on his phone.
Vail’s BlackBerry vibrated: a Virginia number, one she recognized as Detective Paul Bledsoe’s. “I’ve gotta take this,” she said, then moved off toward the Hal of Justice entrance, beneath the address sign that read “1125”
In case it is, yeah. I doubt it, but you can’t unring a bel .”
“I don’t mean to be al doom and gloom,” Mann said. “But could these be Robby’s? Did he bring a set with him?”
“On vacation?” Vail asked. She shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t see any. But I just don’t know.”
“Before we go down that path,” Brix said, “let’s first see if the serial number matches any used by LEOs in the area. If you real y think it’s possible, cal Robby’s PD and see if they keep records on which detectives get which cuffs. Or, we can check with Peerless and see if they know which organization or retailer they shipped that set to.”
“Good luck with that,” Mann said under his breath.
“Let’s also get an ID on the vic. Find out the usual stuff. Who she is, who’d want her dead. Who had access to this quad.” Brix swiveled his body and looked around. “Which is pretty much anybody. Security cameras?”
“I’l look into it,” Gordon said. “I doubt they’re aimed at the street. That fountain is damn close to the sidewalk. The cameras, if there are any, would be turned in toward the building. I think this guy knew what he was doing.”
“But,” Dixon said, “how do you kil a woman out in the open, during the day, in a public area, and have no one see it?”
Vail shook her head. “You kil her offsite. Crush her trachea, if that’s what he did, then bring her here. Get her out of your van in such a way that it looks like you’re walking arm in arm. If it is Cannon, he’s easily strong enough to support her weight and carry her alongside him for fifty to a hundred feet. He sets her down beside him at the fountain, makes two quick slits to her wrists, and then he walks away and melts into the street and cars. The blood drains slowly due to gravity. Some washes away in the fountain.” She examined everyone’s face. “It can be done.”
Dixon rubbed both hands across her eyes. “Al right. So where are we?”
“We ran Mayfield’s home phone LUDs,” Brix said, referring to the local usage detail printout of cal s made and received. “And we got a log of his mobile cal s. His cel was one provided by his employer and only had work-related cal s to and from the county mosquito and pest control abatement division. And a few to wineries and public buildings. We cross-checked, and they al corresponded to jobs he had—
places where he sprayed and whatever the hel else he did with his time when he wasn’t kil ing people.”
Vail’s attention was split between Brix and what Matt Aaron was doing with the victim’s body. “And his home phone?”
“Nothing popped out at us. We were stil sifting through it when this cal came in.
We’re going further and further back in case he wasn’t as careful early on.”
“Any cal s to James Cannon?”
Brix pul ed his phone and began pressing buttons. “We’ve stil got some unidentified numbers to track down, a few unlisteds. We should have an answer soon on that. And we should’ve also heard back from NSIB on whether they got a home address from the wireless carrier. I’m gonna see if I can scare them up right now.”
“We spoke with Ian Wirth,” Dixon said. “He gave us a rundown on the application process for starting a winery.”
“My brother texted me on the way over here minutes ago. He’s done with his meeting and should be cal ing me soon. Get anything from Wirth?”
Dixon fil ed them in on what she and Vail had learned.
“After I fol ow up with NSIB,” Brix said, “I’l get someone started on cal ing the TTB and ABC ASAP, just in case the vintners organization is a dead end. If my brother gets us anything we don’t already know, I’l give you a shout.” He pressed SEND on his phone.
Vail’s BlackBerry vibrated: a Virginia number, one she recognized as Detective Paul Bledsoe’s. “I’ve gotta take this,” she said, then moved off toward the Hal of Justice entrance, beneath the address sign that read “1125”
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