Bones Never Lie (Temperance Brennan, #17)(70)

“He’s a pedo. And his vehicle and tag square with a witness account from the spot Leal was grabbed.”

“Full match?”

“Two digits.”

“That’s it?”

“Four girls are dead. Maybe six. This creep likes girls.”

“It’s weak.”

“Two of our vics walked through his ER.”

“Did he treat them?”

“We’re getting the records.”

“Anything else?”

“Tell her about the pay phone,” Slidell ordered me.

I did.

“Outside Mercy.”

“Yes.”

Salter nodded, turned back to Slidell. “Any shot at DNA?”

“He’s not falling for it.”

“How do you want to proceed?”

“Let me go back at him.”

“Has he requested a lawyer?”

“Not yet.”

“He’s supposed to register as a sex offender,” Tinker said. “Hasn’t in years, never did in North Carolina.”

“That buys us some leeway.” A few beats, then, “You seriously think Ajax could be our guy?”

“He’s our only real suspect.”

“You getting his history?”

“Every dump he ever took.”

“Okay. Let him cook awhile, then go back in.” Looking from Slidell to Tinker. “If nothing breaks by six, we cut him loose.” Slidell started to protest. “And this goes by the book. I want to see fast footwork, I’ll watch Chinatown.” Pointedly to Slidell. “Ajax asks to lawyer up, we shut it down. Are we straight?”

Slidell inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose.

“Are we straight, Detective?”

“We gotta kick him, we stay up his ass?”

“Right between the cheeks.”





CHAPTER 30


AT FIVE, AJAX requested counsel.

Thirty minutes later, a cruiser dropped him at his home. An unmarked car was already parked up the block.

At six, Slidell got a call from an attorney named Jonathan Rao. Henceforth, Rao’s client would answer questions only through him or in his presence.

At seven, Slidell, Barrow, and I were in the conference room eating King’s Kitchen takeout. Between mouthfuls of fried flounder, Slidell was sharing what he’d learned about Ajax’s past.

“Back in Oklahoma, he was Hamir Ajey. His story squares with what I dug out of court records. Ajey, aka Ajax, began nailing a babysitter when she was fourteen and he was thirty-three. The abuse stopped two years later, when the kid confided in a teacher. He was charged with rape and lewd acts on a minor, copped a plea.”

“To spare the child having to endure a trial,” Barrow said. “That’s often how it goes.”

“The sick f*ck did forty-six months and walked.”

“Wasn’t he required to register as a sex offender?” I asked.

“He did.” Bite of flounder. “When he got out of the box in 2004. In Oklahoma.”

“Didn’t the state yank his medical license?”

“That state.” Slidell licked his fingers. “So Ajey/Ajax goes underground a couple years, surfaces in New Hampshire at an urgent care clinic ain’t so picky about background checks.”

“You’re kidding.”

“A couple pen strokes on the ole license, his name changes from Hamir Ajey to Hamet Ajax. He figures no one will bother phoning Mumbai.”

“And no one did. Jesus.”

“A few more years, he uses the New Hampshire job to springboard to an ER in West Virginia.”

“From there to Charlotte,” Barrow said.

“Along the way, he stops mentioning he’s a perv.”

“And no one asks.” I was disgusted.

“Why Charlotte?” Barrow asked. “Who knows?”

“How long was Ajax required to register?” I asked.

“I’m getting to that,” Slidell said. “He claims ten years.”

“Is he married?”

“Back in Oklahoma. The wife left him.”

“How many kids?”

“Two girls.”

I felt clashing emotions. Revulsion for Ajax. Sympathy for his daughters. Fear for future victims. I wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something at a wall.

“Any other incidents? Patient complaints, that sort of thing?” Barrow asked.

“Nothing popped in the four states I ran the two names. Apparently, Ajax kept his nose clean.”

“Or improved his technique.” Barrow.

“Where’s he living now?” I asked.

“One of those cuter-than-shit neighborhoods off Sharon View Road.”

“Does Oklahoma have his DNA?”

Slidell shook his head.

“Was Ajax working on the dates Donovan and Leal presented at Mercy?”

“I got a warrant in the works. Should know in an hour or two.”

“What’s your thinking?” Barrow asked.

“I want inside Ajax’s house.”

“Without cause that’s a nonstarter.”

“Yeah. Yeah. So we keep a team up his butt twenty-four/seven. The * so much as glances at a playground, we yank him back in.”