The North Face of the Heart - Dolores Redondo Page 0,39
bullet through his brain. But look at how these bodies are arranged; I know there are only four, and I don’t see any ligature marks, but that could be due to the quality of the print. The file says he fired four bullets from the pistol found beside him. It was registered to him.”
Johnson picked up one of the photos and took it to the window, where the light was better. “Does the reporting officer say there were family members who weren’t home that day?”
“Yes. An older son, which would fit the family profile we’re looking for. The police gave him extra attention because he inherited two houses and a ton of money, but they never seriously considered him a suspect. He was living in Sacramento, and they confirmed he was there on the day of the murders. Looks as if he’s been stirring up the press, telling anyone who’ll listen that his family was murdered by an intruder, even though the police are convinced his father did it. He claims the investigation was mishandled.”
Johnson took the report and turned to the back page to check the name of the investigating officer. He called the Galveston number and learned that Detective Nelson had resigned and moved away. Smiling, he pressed the speakerphone button for his next call. Agent Tucker’s slightly nasal voice came through loud and clear.
“Tucker, I have Salazar with me on speakerphone. Are you still at Miami police headquarters?”
“Yes, we’re waiting for transport to the disaster zone, but it’s still cut off. Meanwhile, we’re monitoring reports for any mention of homicides or accidental deaths during the storm. Not expecting too much for a while; most of the phone lines are down and even the working phones are unreliable. They’ve gotten several reports of shots fired, but those we were able to verify didn’t match what we’re looking for. We do have a couple of missing families that fit the profile. Problem is, even if the Composer has struck, we might not hear about it for hours.”
“We’ve been reviewing the case files sent this morning, and Salazar found a murder-suicide eight months ago in Galveston. A husband who killed his wife and two children, then used his own pistol to kill himself. Nothing that really catches the eye there, but there’s more: an older son wasn’t home, so that’s one step closer to the profile we’re looking for. In the crime scene photos we have here, the bodies are close together and side by side. There’s no way to tell if they’re oriented toward the north. Can’t see any marks around the wrists. Ballistics report is sketchy; just says there’s gunpowder residue on the father’s hands and the bullets extracted postmortem match his pistol, a twenty-two. The gun was found on the floor beside him.”
“You think our man might be behind it?”
“That’s what we’re trying to establish. But we urgently need to talk to the investigating officer. Report’s signed by a Brad Nelson, homicide detective in Galveston.”
“And?”
“Turns out Detective Nelson moved to Tampa. Seems his wife is there, and Nelson now works for the Tampa police.”
“We’re on it. You can imagine the chaos here at headquarters, but we’ll track him down. Let’s have a conference call in fifteen minutes. I’ll give you the number.”
In the interval, Amaia went to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and put her wrists under the gush of cold water. She sensed the intense heat was bringing on a headache. She wet a towel and wiped her neck.
“Salazar!” Johnson poked his head through the doorway, startling her. “It’s time.”
Tucker took over. “Agent Johnson, Assistant Inspector Salazar—Agent Emerson is here with me. We’ve learned that Detective Brad Nelson went out with the first batch of volunteers dispatched to the disaster zone, and he’s not likely to be back any time soon. I spoke to him by radio. Here’s what I have so far: the gun was a Smith & Wesson twenty-two-caliber revolver, and bullets of the same caliber were taken from the bodies. The detective thinks the son’s refusal to accept the police’s conclusion is simply the boy’s inability to accept what his father did and the consequences for his family. The young man’s a student at Tulane in New Orleans. The case is closed. The boy still telephones Nelson practically every week, insisting it has to be reopened. Most recent call was yesterday, from New Orleans. He hasn’t evacuated, so maybe you can find him and talk to him. Name is Joseph Andrews, same