lawyer drove two levels down to the general parking area. Charlie was wearing jeans, a baseball cap, dark glasses, a bland, tan jacket, and latex gloves. When he got out of his car he was carrying several items, including a copy of the key from Carrie Blair’s key ring that opened the trunk of the Bentley, a ziplock bag with the balled-up towel that was soaked with Carrie’s blood, and another ziplock bag with hairs he’d pulled from Carrie’s head before he’d buried her.
Benedict stuffed the bag with the hairs in his jacket pocket and concealed the other bag under his jacket. He waited until no one was around the Bentley to open the trunk. First, he scattered the hairs. Next, he pulled out the bag with the towel. The blood had frozen in the freezer and he’d stashed it in a cooler during the drive, but the heat from his body had defrosted it and it was wet when he smeared it across a section of the trunk near the edge. Benedict put the towel back in the bag when he finished with it. They would be incinerated before the day was out.
Several years ago, Benedict had been consulted by a potential client who was charged with stabbing his wife to death. The killer had wrapped the body in a tarp so it wouldn’t leave any trace evidence in his trunk. When he pulled the body out of the trunk to bury it, a smear of blood had been left. It was a dark night and he hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t a large smear but it was enough to send him to prison for life. The man had gone elsewhere because he couldn’t come up with Benedict’s retainer, but Benedict remembered the damage a tiny smear of blood could do.
Before he closed the Bentley’s trunk, Benedict took one last goodie out of his pocket. There was a golf bag and a pair of golf shoes lying in the back. Benedict moved the shoes and placed the .38 that had ended Carrie’s life behind them, where it would be easy to find. The gun’s serial numbers had been filed off, and there were no prints on the gun that could lead the police to Benedict. The gun would raise suspicions when it was found, and it would be powerful evidence of guilt when they dug up Carrie’s body and a ballistics test matched the bullet that had killed her to the weapon.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Stephanie Robb came in late because Lily had been acting out in class and she had to meet with her teacher. Robb had read a few books about the effects of divorce on children. She had even spoken to a counselor her attorney had recommended. But she was still upset because her bastard husband had not read these books or talked to a counselor and was using their daughter as a football in the divorce proceedings.
Robb was still steamed when she walked into the detective division in time to see Frank Santoro hang up the phone.
“We have an ID on the John Doe who was found in that field by the river,” Santoro said.
“Who is he?”
“Ernest Brodsky. He has a shop in the River View Mall, and a daughter, Sarah Gelfand. That was Kline. He broke the news to her. She’s coming to the morgue in an hour to make a formal identification. We’ll meet her there and see if we can learn anything.”
Bob Gelfand put his arm around his wife and tried to comfort her. The couple was sitting on a bench outside the room in the morgue where Sarah had just identified her father’s body. Her shoulders convulsed with each sob, and Frank Santoro and Stephanie Robb waited patiently until Sarah was calm enough to answer their questions.
“I’ll try to make this fast, Mrs. Gelfand,” Santoro said. “I know you want to get out of here and back to your children. But I want to catch the person who did this, and right now we don’t have any leads. Any help you can give us will be greatly appreciated.”
Sarah raised her tearstained face toward the detective. “I don’t know how I can help. Dad didn’t have an enemy in the world.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful but I have to ask. Did your father have any vices? A gambling problem? Drugs? Was he a drinker? Any problems with women?”
Bob Gelfand laughed. “No one who knew Ernie would ask a question like that. He was a sweet