Chapter 18
They pulled into the parking lot of the detention centre just as Wallace's phone rang, the thumping beat of 'Super Freak' echoing throughout the car.
"Rick James? Are you kidding me?" Pepper said as Wallace dug his phone out of his pocket.
"It's a classic, buddy," Wallace said as he looked down at the number displayed on his phone. "It's the Flamingo Kid." He hit the button to put it on speaker phone. "Hello."
Garbled mumbling came through the phone. "Jesus, I've got to turn the Kid up to eleven," Wallace said, repeatedly pressing on the volume button. "Kyle, we missed that. Can you say again, please?"
Singleton's voice came through, still barely above a whisper. "I was just saying the only prints we got on that book were from Bartolucci, as you expected. No other prints whatsoever. I think that book was sitting there for a very long time untouched. Now, you said you just touched it with the tips of your fingers at the top and bottom of the spine, right?"
"Yes, those are the only places we touched it before putting it in the bag. Why?"
"There were a few smudges on the surfaces, and minute traces of talc, which means the killer likely wore latex gloves, similar to ours."
"Right," Wallace said, exchanging a glance with Pepper. "So no prints other than Bartolucci's?"
"No, none."
"Okay, thanks Kyle." Wallace ended the call and looked over at Pepper. "So, latex gloves. Do you think our guy might be in the medical field?"
Pepper shook his head from side to side. "The gloves don't mean anything anymore. People use them everywhere. He could be a butcher for all we know. My barber even put one on the last time I went for a haircut."
"Yeah. All right. Let's go see what Rico has to say today."
The clouds that had been dotting the sky earlier had dispersed, but even with the sun shining, Pepper thought the detention centre looked as depressing as ever.
The guard gave them that same cold stare as they made their way through the series of locked doors to the same interrogation room they'd been in the day before. The hard-backed wooden chair still sat in the same place behind the table, the plastic chair with the wonky leg stuck in the corner. Two different guards ushered Bartolucci into the room, his hands cuffed together. The big guy ducked at the door once more and shuffled across the room, his broad shoulders slumped.
"Jesus Christ," Pepper muttered under his breath, looking at the young man's face, one eye swollen almost shut.
"Undo the cuffs," Pepper said to the guards. "And can we get him something to drink?" He purposely left off the 'please'. "Rico, what would you like, a pop, a coffee?"
"A pop would be great," Bartolucci said, his voice just above a whisper as he slid into the wooden chair.
"Okay. Guys, can we get him a Coke?"
"Yes sir," the guard replied as he unlocked the cuffs and left them on top of the table, making it clear that they were going right back on once this interview was over.
Once the guards left the room, Wallace took his spot across the table from Bartolucci while Pepper leaned against the side wall. "Rico, what happened to your eye?"
"I slipped in the shower."
Wallace flicked his gaze over to Pepper for a second. "You slipped in the shower, and ended up doing that to your eye?"
"That's all I'm gonna-" The conversation stopped as one of the guards came back in and set a can of Coke on the table. They waited until he closed the door behind him on his way out.
"Rico, you have to tell us what happened."
Bartolucci shook his head adamantly. "No. What do you guys want? Have you been able to track that guy through my computer or phone?"
"No, we haven't had any luck there. That's one of the reasons we're here. We'd like to try using your account on that Reaper website and contact The Sandman that way-see if he responds to us. We'd appreciate it if you could give us the password to your Hulkster account."
"Sure, it's 'madsacker'-all one word, but I'm not sure if that will help."
"Why's that?" Wallace said, making a note.
"Like I said, after I picked up that pill he left for me the second time, he never answered any of my messages. I think he may have written me off once I got that girl for him. Besides, near the end, we were just e-mailing or texting each other with our phones."
"That may be the case, but we'll give it a shot. Did you say or do anything special in the messages you sent him?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like did you always start them the same way, or sign your name at the end a certain way-something like that."
"Oh, okay. I'd always start with Sandman followed by a comma, and then my message. I'd just sign it Hulkster right after the last period, not on a separate line or anything like that. I never used any of that stuff in the text messages-just whatever I wanted to say."
"Did he ever put anything in the messages that you'd think was some kind of code, or something different than normal?"
"Different? What do you mean?"
"I don't know, like some kind of riddle, or poem, something like that."
"He'd sometimes throw in a line from an old song, that's about it. I recognized some of the songs, but not all of them. It seemed like he was really into it, though."
"Okay, that helps a lot," Wallace said as he nodded towards Pepper. "The other reason we're here is that we'd like you to take a look at some pictures of some cars, see if you recognize the one that you put the Redmond girl into."
"Okay. I'll take a look, but I'm not promising anything-it was pretty dark."
Pepper stepped over to the table and opened the folder he'd carried in, laying out pictures of four different cars they'd printed off the internet. Since Bartolucci had said he was sure the car was very light in colour, they'd downloaded pictures of two white cars, and two silver cars, all different models, but included ones was that were the same model as Drummond's two-year old Honda.
"Take your time," Wallace said as Bartolucci looked them over.
Bartolucci's eyes scanned from one picture to the next. His brows furrowed, and his swollen lips turned down at the corners. "I don't know, it could be any of them."
"Just take your time, Rico," Wallace said, his voice calm. "There's no hurry. Just think about what you saw that night."
Bartolucci shook his head slowly as he resumed looking at the pictures. "Like I said, I was pretty drunk, and it was dark-I just don't know."
"Is there one that you can eliminate? Try looking at it that way."
With one good eye and one swollen one, the young man looked again. He reached forward, pushing the picture of the white Ford towards Wallace. "That's good," Wallace said. "Try that way again." Bartolucci looked from one picture to the next once more, and then pushed away the picture of the other white car.
"So, you're pretty sure the car was likely silver?"
"I guess. The more I looked, the more those other ones just didn't feel right."
"Okay, good." Wallace paused as he nodded slowly. "What about those last two? Does one feel better than the other?"
They were down to the last two, a silver Lexus, and the silver Honda. Bartolucci picked up the pictures and looked closely at both, and then looked again. He started to shake his head once more. "I?I really can't say-it might have been either one-it might have been another one entirely. I was really kind of wasted that night."
"That's all right, Rico," Wallace said. "Just try to remember what you saw as you took that girl to the car. Maybe something about the way the back bumper looked, or the type of wheels. Just take another look."
Bartolucci looked one more time, but he shook his head harder this time, his lips set in a straight line as he pushed the remaining two pictures back towards Wallace. "I'm sorry, man, but I just don't know. I can't remember anything other than that it was a light colour, and had four doors."
Wallace and Pepper nodded. Another dead end. "Okay, Rico, that's been a great help," Wallace said as Pepper stepped forward and gathered up the pict
ures.
Bartolucci took a big gulp of his Coke, a little of the syrupy liquid trickling down from the corner of his split lip. Wallace stood up and knocked on the door, letting the guards know they were ready for them. Bartolucci wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at the door, his eyes panicky. "Guys, you've gotta get me out of here. Please."
"Rico, you're in deep shit with what you did to that Swindon girl," Pepper said. "If you want to survive in here, you'd better learn to stick up for yourself. We'll let the Crown Attorney know you've been helpful, but that's all we can do."
The two guards came in as Bartolucci stood up, his massive six-eight body looming over them. He held his hands forward as they slipped on the cuffs, one guard standing back watching, his hand on the heel of his baton. Pepper and Wallace turned, making their way out through the series of doors, feeling Bartolucci's future was shrinking more and more with each door that closed behind them.
PART FOUR
LISTEN LIKE THIEVES
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