Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(14)

“I’d like to have copies.”

“I’ll see that you do. Anything you need.”

“A list of staff, handymen, repair and maintenance. All of them. And a list of residents. You have records?”

“Of staff, yes. Most of the repairmen, yes. Our brother, Monty, did some of the minor repairs. And I tried, Nash is hopeless with tools. Monty was killed in Africa several years ago. We’d have a list of the children, though our rules were less structured there. We were licensed, so we were given the responsibility of housing some children through court order. But we also took in what you could call strays. I’m afraid any number of them might have given fake names, and a great many were only there a night or two, or sporadically. But I’ll see you have copies of everything we have.”

“Twelve girls,” Nash said under his breath. “How can this be?”

“And they may have been ours.” Philadelphia’s knuckles went white as she gripped her brother’s hand. “They may have been girls who came to us, Nash, then came back looking for us. We weren’t there, and someone . . . someone preyed on them.”

“Are we responsible?” He shielded his face with his free hand. “Is this terrible thing on our souls?”

“I don’t believe that.” Philadelphia shifted closer, wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “I don’t. Do you?” She lifted pleading eyes to Eve. “Do you?”

“The person responsible is the person who killed them.”

“Are you sure they—of course you’re sure.” Nash dropped his hand, straightened his shoulders. “Wrapped in plastic, you said, hidden behind a wall. Of course this was murder. But how were they killed?”

“I can’t give you that information at this time.” Eve pushed to her feet. “I appreciate your cooperation in this matter. If I could have those copies, and speak to anyone on staff now who worked or lived in that building, it would be very helpful.”

“I’ll get Ollie started on that—Oliver Hill,” Philadelphia explained. “Our office manager. He wasn’t part of The Sanctuary. We could barely afford an office much less someone to manage it. Our matron—Brenda Shivitz—she worked part-time there, for the last year we were in that location, then came with us here, on a full-time basis. Seraphim, as I said. Oh, and Brodie Fine. He’d just started his business, and often did work for us. He’s still our handyman. He’s got his own company, a small service company. We call on Brodie for any number of things.”

“I’d like his contact information.”

“You’ll have it. If you’ll excuse me.” Philadelphia pushed off the couch. “I’ll take care of this right away.”

“Anything you can add?” Eve asked Nash as his sister left the room.

He stared down at his hands. “There’s nothing more I can tell you. I’m so very sorry. Will you tell us their names? I might remember them. I feel I should remember them.”

“I will when it’s cleared. If we could speak with the matron now, get that out of the way.”

“Yes, I’ll get her. Please use this office, for privacy.” He started out, turned. “I hope their souls are long at peace. I’ll pray they are.”

“Quick take,” Eve asked Peabody the minute they were alone.

“They come off dedicated, maybe a little pious, but not extreme, and really close-knit. On the other hand, either or both of them had the best access to the building, and likely to the victims, of anyone we currently know.”

“Agreed, on both counts. They also don’t seem stupid, and it would be stone stupid to hide bodies in a building you’re giving up. They’d have been the first ones looked at if the bank had done any demo fifteen years ago. They’re the first we’re looking at now.”

“Sometimes desperate equals stupid.”

Eve nodded in approval. “Damn right it does. Let’s find out more about the dead brother, and the sister. And we’ll give a hard look to anybody who worked at The Sanctuary, even the occasional repair people.”

“Her reaction especially came off as genuine. Real shock and horror.”

“Yeah, but if I worked with teenagers every single day for years, I’d have developed exceptional acting skills just so nobody knew I often wanted to nail them to a wall and light fire to them.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m just saying.” Eve turned as Shivitz stepped into the doorway.

“Mr. Jones said . . . He said you wanted to talk to me. He said—” She stopped there, her already streaming eyes flooding more tears.

Knowing her job meant taking point with emotional witnesses, Peabody walked over, put an arm around the woman’s shoulder, led her to a chair.

“I know this is a terrible shock.”

“It’s—it’s unspeakable! Someone killed twelve girls? And they might have been our girls? And then just left them alone in that terrible place? Who could do that?” Shivitz pounded her fist on her thigh. “What kind of godless monster did that? You find him. You must. God will punish him, I believe that. But the law of man must punish him first. You’re the law.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Since fiery anger burned off the tears, Eve moved closer. “Think back. Is there anyone you remember who concerned you, who maybe paid the wrong type of attention to the girls at The Sanctuary—or even here, especially in the early days?”