“Right,” Jamil agreed. “But more interestingly, he had connections to both female victims. Detective Hernandez showed photos of both female victims to Brandee. She didn’t know Priscilla Barton. But she did recognize Kelly Martindale. She said that she and Hemsley would sometimes see Kelly out at clubs in the area with ‘an old dude’ that Barney knows.
“Barney and Carl are friends?”
“No,” Jamil corrected, “at least not according to Brandee. In fact, she said that Hemsley considers Carl an arrogant jerk. But they definitely know each other from when Hemsley lived on the Strand.”
“Okay, that’s something we can work with,” Jessie said.
“There’s more,” Jamil said. “Guess who owns the house Barnard Hemsley used to live in, before he sold it at a loss?”
“I couldn’t possibly.”
“Garth and Priscilla Barton! He sold them the place about a year ago.”
Jessie looked over at Ryan, who was smiling.
“What are the chances that these are all coincidences?” he mused.
“It’s a small community,” Jessie countered. “And knowing these people doesn’t mean he had a motive for killing them.”
“No,” Ryan conceded. “But it’s more than we had before. And if this is some kind of obsessive stalker fetish thing, we now have proof that he was at least aware of both these women. Plus, according to what Brandee told us, he has easy access to that brand of stockings. Tell her the other thing, Jamil.”
“Oh, right,” Jamil said excitedly. “Based on court records, at least three of Hemsley’s recent clients have homes within a block of either the Bloom or Landingham residences.”
Ryan picked up from there.
“So it stands to reason that he might have met with those clients at home, within peeping distance of the houses where these attacks took place.”
Jessie considered the information.
“All of that is supposition,” she pointed out unconvincingly. “None of it is definitive.”
“No,” Ryan conceded. “But nothing we’re finding makes him seem less guilty.”
Jessie nodded. She couldn’t argue with anything he’d said, though something still made her reluctant to jump on the Barney train.
“Let’s go talk to him and his lawyer,” she offered. “Maybe he’ll be chattier if confronted with all this. Thanks, Jamil.”
The young researcher smiled enthusiastically. Jessie suspected this was the biggest case he’d ever dealt with and he was riding the adrenaline high.
When they stepped into the interrogation room, Barney was seated, while his lawyer remained standing. The man was the same height as his client but perhaps a hundred pounds lighter and ten years older. He was bald, save for a narrow strip of gray along the back of his head. He had a mild manner which was reinforced by the sweater vest and Dockers he wore.
“Giles Orlean,” he said, extending his hand to both of them. “I represent Mr. Hemsley. It’s an honor to have such celebrated law enforcement personnel in our sleepy little town.”
“Not so sleepy of late, Counselor,” Ryan pointed out.
“And not so celebrated either,” Barney piped up. “Giles here told me about your reputation, Jessie. I didn’t realize you were the chick who was under fire for going on racist Facebook rants. Maybe that explains my unprovoked, violent arrest. Trying to overcompensate by bringing down a rich white guy, huh?”
Jessie held her tongue, fully aware that Barney was trying to bait her in front of his lawyer.
“Barnard,” Orlean said soothingly, “we might all be better served by lowering the temperature a bit. I’m quite confident that we can clear up this misunderstanding with a little open communication.”
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Ryan said, dropping photos of Priscilla Barton and Kelly Martindale on the table in front of them. “You’re currently under arrest for assaulting a law enforcement officer. Depending on the information we get from you now, those charges could change to include multiple counts of murder. So maybe you’d like to help yourself.”
“Who are these women?” Orlean asked, unfazed by the sight of two dead bodies.
“I was hoping Mr. Hemsley could help us out with that,” Ryan said, pointedly not calling him Barney this time.
“I don’t recommend that Mr. Hemsley respond until you give us a little more to go on, Detective,” Orlean replied.
Before Ryan could counter, Barney started talking.
“Hey, I recognize that one,” he said, pointing at Kelly Martindale. “She’s the hottie that asshole Carl Landingham was nailing when his wife was out of town. I remember she and Brandee grinding on each other at a dance club a few months ago. It was pretty awesome, though Carl didn’t seem to love it. She’s dead now? What a waste.”