The Maid's Diary(94)
“Christ, Otto. And?”
“The blood on Rittenberg’s shoes belongs to Kit Darling. It’s also her blood in the back of his Audi. It’s her hair, too.”
“You could’ve told me this the second I walked in here.”
He laughs a great big belly laugh and says, “And what fun would that be?”
Mal rolls her eyes, but her pulse is racing. “What else are you holding back?”
“The partial shoe prints in the blood at the crime scene show patterning consistent with the soles from the shoes from Jon Rittenberg’s closet. His blood is at the scene, too. And latents and patents from items in the living room match both Daisy and Jon Rittenberg’s fingerprints.”
Otto pulls up images of the broken glasses that were found near the upturned coffee table. “Daisy Rittenberg’s DNA is on the rim of this piece of wineglass. Jon Rittenberg’s DNA is on this whisky glass piece. Kit Darling’s DNA is on the broken martini glass, here.” He brings up another photo. “This is the carving knife retrieved from the pool.” He points. “A small amount of Darling’s blood was detected deep in the grooves of the hilt here. And Daisy Rittenberg’s prints are on the knife hilt.”
Mal stares at the images. Emilio Rossi’s words float into her consciousness.
If you do find her DNA inside, it’s because she went to lunch at Northview last Friday. She drank from glasses and handled a carving knife to cut sausage.
She thinks of Rossi’s earlier comment.
Her husband was very angry when she departed her home. He threatened her physically. He’d already had a fair bit to drink, and she suspects he began drinking again heavily after she left. She cannot vouch for his whereabouts or say whether he returned later to the Northview residence.
Mal purses her lips. This evidence puts the Rittenbergs inside the house despite their assertions they left after they dropped the flowers and pie. Plus they have motive. There are witnesses, a timeline. CCTV footage that tracks the Audi to the ADMAC site. More witnesses who saw the Subaru and rug being dumped. But it’s not quite adding up in her mind. She’s missing something.
Mal thanks Otto and returns to her vehicle. She calls Benoit as she drives back to the station.
“Still nothing on this end,” he says. “The front plus a king tide has brought in silt and a big current. The team has paused the search again. They hope a safer window will present within a few hours when the tide turns. I’ll keep you posted.”
Mal kills the call and drives the rest of the way to the station, feeling edgy and impatient for more results from the lab. She also called in a blood-spatter expert to assess the crime scene and is keen for his report, too. It all feels so close yet so far.
As Mal enters her unit’s bullpen, Jack Duff comes up to her.
“Guess who just walked in of his own accord?”
Mal shakes out her coat and hangs it up. “Suspense is killing me, Jack. Who?”
“Boon-mee Saelim.”
She flicks her gaze to Jack. “Last I heard he was nowhere to be found.”
“He looks pretty messed up,” Jack says. “Like he hasn’t slept in days. He insists on talking only to you or Benoit.”
MAL
November 4, 2019. Monday.
Mal finds Boon sitting on a dark-blue sofa in one of their more comfortable interview rooms. He looks like hell. His leg jiggles and his fingers fidget.
Mal takes a seat on the chair opposite Boon. She places her notebook and pen on the low table between them.
“Do you know that we’ve been looking for you, Boon?”
“Do I need a lawyer?”
“You’re free to obtain counsel. I can also provide you with a number if you’d like to access legal aid. Let me know. Meanwhile, let’s start with where you’ve been. And just so you know, you are on camera, and this is being recorded.”
Boon’s gaze darts up to the camera mounted near the ceiling. He then glances at the closed door as though he’s having second thoughts.
Mal waits.
“I was at a cabin near Hope,” he finally says as he rubs his thigh with his hand.
“Why did you run?”
“I didn’t run. I needed to grieve. I lost a friend. My best friend.”
Tension quickens in Mal. “So you knew Kit was dead?”
“No. I was grieving because I lost her as a friend through something I did a long time ago, and she found out.”
“So why’ve you come in now, Boon? What brings you back from the cabin?”
“I was at a gas station and saw on the news that divers had found her body. I—” His voice cracks and his eyes pool with tears. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. She wasn’t supposed to die.” He sniffs and swipes tears away.
“Tell me what you mean. Take your time. Start at the beginning.”
He wipes his nose, and Mal pushes a box of tissues toward him. He takes one, blows his nose.
“Kit and I—our whole group—we would often dress up for role-play on the fly, you know? Like pop-up improv. We’d go into a Walmart, or to a supermarket, or an outdoor park, and interact with people, messing with them. It was our private game. A joke.”
“Like Kit’s Instagram was also a joke? We did check her @foxandcrow profile that you told us about. A good percentage of those Instagram photos are posed with you, Boon.”