Delusion in Death (In Death #35)(77)

“With all the angles, all the data to sort through, I never thought we’d zero in this fast.” As Eve had, Peabody turned to the victim board. “I went to bed last night thinking we’d have to go into another scene like the bar and the café. I didn’t get a lot of sleep thinking it.”

“We won’t give him a chance to add to this board.”

“I’ll sleep a hell of a lot better tonight then. Are we picking Callaway up this morning?”

“I want to see what he does this morning, where he goes. But yeah, we’ll be talking to him. I want to interview the Hubbards, and I’m damned if I’m going to Arkansas. I figure Teasdale has the pull to bring them here. Maybe enough pull to get a warrant to search their place while they’re out of it.”

“Do you think there’s something there, something with his parents? Jesus, Dallas, do you think they know?”

“I think there’s something there.” Eve stepped back from the board, drinking coffee as she scanned. “I can’t say what they know, but there’s a direct link from Red Horse, Menzini to Lewis Callaway. It’s biological, and there’s nothing here that comes close to proving he knew his own biology, or cared, or has any information on the substance used.”

“Maybe not, but we’ve got a lot of key pieces.”

“Now we need the whole picture. We need that to show means. There’s no clear motive. Was there a specific target—Cattery, Fisher—or were the attacks broad based? If target specific, why Cattery and Fisher? We’ve got opportunity. He was in the bar, and he lives and works within spitting distance of the café, and has admitted to frequenting same.”

She sat on the edge of the conference table, scanning, scanning. “We need more. We need to prove he had knowledge, had access to the formula. We need motive, specific or broad based. To sew him up tight, we need it all.”

“You’ve got enough to sweat him,” Peabody pointed out.

“Yeah, I can sweat him, and I will. I’d like more in my pocket before I do.”

She went back to her notes as cops trickled into the room. Then her head came up. She scented baked goods seconds before the wolf pack circled Feeney.

“Listen, the wife made this coffee cake thing from her cooking class deal. It’s probably not half bad.”

As if it mattered, Eve thought. She let them have the next couple minutes to tear in, devour while she finished off her coffee.

“Fall in,” she ordered. “And wipe the crumbs off your faces, for Christ’s sake. In case any of you have maintained some minor interest in the current investigation, we’ve connected Callaway to Red Horse.”

That shut them up. Attention zeroed in on the boards as cops grabbed chairs.

She waited one more beat, nodded to Peabody. “Gina MacMillon,” she began as the image came on screen. “This is Lewis Callaway’s biological grandmother. She is twenty-three in this ID, issued before, according to statements and documents, she abandoned her husband and joined an unnamed cult. During her association with the cult, she gave birth to a female. The certificate of birth lists her husband as father, and was issued when the infant was six months old. The infant was named Karleen MacMillon, listed as an abductee at the age of eighteen months, and never recovered. However—”

The next image slid on.

“This is Karleen MacMillon’s computer-aged image at the age of twenty-one. And this is Audrey Hubbard Callaway’s ID photo at the same age. Audrey Hubbard’s certificate of birth is fake, and issued to Gina MacMillon’s half-sister Tessa and her husband, Edward, who left England when the child was approximately four years of age, and settled in Johnstown, Ohio. Audrey Hubbard married Russell Callaway, and subsequently gave birth to a son, Lewis.”

“The dots connect,” Baxter commented.

“Yeah, they do. William MacMillon’s petition for divorce, and his deposition, cite abandonment, a cult, and specifically names Menzini. Unless MacMillon was lying, the date of the deposition and the date listed as the kid’s birth make it impossible for him to be the biological father.”

“He took her back,” Baxter said, “and took the kid as his? What is he, an apostle or something?”

“Find out. You and Trueheart find out everything you can, find me somebody who knew him, knew them. He’s listed as killed, along with Gina, in the raid that took the kid. I want the dirt on the marriage—people always know the dirt, and they remember it.”

“Reineke, Jenkinson, I want the same on the Hubbards. Why did they change the kid’s name, fake a birth certificate, move to another country?”

“Could be the sperm donor was trouble,” Reineke speculated. “They wanted to keep the kid from him. Or hell, they just wanted a fresh start.”

“I like the first, that’s my push on it. They could’ve legally adopted the kid, or applied for guardianship. I can’t find anything that says they went that route. Why not? Hubbard was military, retired a captain. She was the kid’s closest blood relation, except for the grandparents. Her father, Gina’s mother. The grandmother’s still alive, in England. Get me the story.”

“I think Detective Callendar and I might have something.” Teasdale glanced toward Callendar, got the nod. “We have considerable data on Red Horse, though much of it is anecdotal, speculative or unsubstantiated. We focused most directly, for obvious reasons, on Menzini once you passed his name to us, and were able to find a few reports, and images—all dating prior to his apprehension.”