Needle Work: Battery Acid, Heroin, and Double Murder(9)

That would be Tuesday, November 11. Shanlian remembered that Nancy Billiter had been driven back to Giles’s home at 11:00 P.M. on November 11. On a hunch, he decided to try something.

“We have witnesses that saw Nancy Billiter here on Wednesday, November twelfth.”

It was a white lie, because Billiter could have left immediately on November 11 and gone someplace else. But Shanlian was betting that after a night on her feet, she had crashed without going anywhere. The idea was to narrow the time frame down, closer and closer to the time of the murder.

Do that and you move closer and closer to the murderer.

Carol Giles said she had seen Nancy Billiter on Wednesday, but that she left about 1:30 in the morning on Thursday and hadn’t seen her since. Shanlian was following his feelings and his gut told him that something about the woman just didn’t sit right.

If Billiter was a heavy drug user, as witnesses had said, wouldn’t this woman Giles know about it? What kind of person lets a heavy drug user into her home?

“Are you carrying any drugs or weapons?” Shanlian asked suddenly.

Carol Giles could have easily answered no and walked away. If she did, there was nothing Shanlian could do. She wasn’t under arrest. And if she wasn’t under arrest, they had no constitutional right to search her. But cops know how to use intimidation to get what they want, and Shanlian had made his question sound very menacing, like “If you lie to me, I’m gonna search you.”

“I have some drugs,” Giles confessed.

Carol Giles pulled a small plastic Baggie with white powder in it from her overcoat pocket. Handing it over, she explained that it was crack.

“Would you empty your pockets for me?” Shanlian requested.

By voluntarily turning over the drugs, Giles had made herself a suspected felon. That made it constitutionally acceptable for Giles to be searched, by force if necessary. On the other hand, she hadn’t yet been advised of her rights, so anything she said could not be used in court against her.

Carol Giles went over to her car. She emptied her right coat pocket. Out came a small electronic scale, the kind that could be used by a dealer to weigh dope. When she reached in her left, out came two syringes still in their protective plastic wrapping. Shanlian had to wonder if she was mainlining.

“I’ve also got a gun in the car,” she added.

“Handgun?” Shanlian asked.

Giles nodded.

Shanlian didn’t search the car. He wasn’t sure of his constitutional grounds on that one. Instead, he asked if they could go in the house and Giles said sure.

Inside, they put the cocaine, the scale and the syringes on a coffee table next to a bong that was already there. Shanlian thought for a minute. If he arrested her on a drug beef, she might clam up. She had been cooperative for some unknown reason. Better to keep her cool.

“Mrs. Giles, you’re not under arrest. Our department has no interest in the cocaine or handgun in your possession at this point. Do you own this house?”

“No, I’m a renter,” she replied. “But my name is on the lease.”

Shanlian looked around. It was plainly furnished with sofa, chairs, dining room set, a little bit in disarray with children’s toys scattered about.

“Is anyone at home besides you?”

“No.”

“And is the car outside yours?”

“Yes.”

“Are you currently under the influence of any drugs or alcohol?” Shanlian asked.

If she was, that stopped his next request. A person under the influence does not have the ability to agree to a search that would be constitutionally acceptable.

“No,” she replied.

Good, he thought.

“We’d like to search your residence and your vehicle,” Shanlian asked. “For evidence of the homicide of Nancy Billiter,” he added.

“Okay,” she said.

She sounded like she had nothing to hide.

Edwards went out and came back with a form he kept in the police car. It was attached to a clipboard. On the top was CONSENT TO SEARCH. Giles signed her name on the bottom line and then Shanlian escorted her to his car while Melki and Edwards searched the premises.

After she stepped in, Shanlian got behind the wheel, started it up, and threw the heater on.

“I’d just like to ask you some questions about Nancy Billiter.”

“Sure. Mind if I smoke?”

“No.”

Giles took out a pack of cigarettes, shook one out and put it to her lips. Shanlian struck a match and lit it for her.

“Thanks,” she said, exhaling smoke with a sigh.

“You’re welcome. What I was wondering about was how long Nancy had been living with you.”

“Oh, for several weeks,” said Carol.

Shanlian looked up.

“Looks like a small house.”

“She slept on a bed in the basement,” Carol explained.

“Where’d you get the coke?” Shanlian asked.

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in it?”

“I’m not. I was just wondering.”

“I bought it from a guy name of Hoffis Thurman in Rochester for one hundred dollars. I was taking it to my boyfriend, Tim Collier, in Flint.”

Flint, thought Shanlian. Where Billiter was dumped. So there is a connection.