Chapter 14

DNA analysis on TV takes less than five minutes and a computer dings and shows you a picture of the perpetrator. Then some handsome actor says "Go get him, boys." Action ensues and within half an hour, usually, the bad guy is caught or gunned down in a fair fight and the commercials roll.

In real life, DNA testing, which is a chemical process, done by a lab technician, takes weeks. So I waited weeks for Leon to call me and tell me what the result of the test was. It was the third week in June when he did.

"You know your missing girl homicide case?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Epithelial tissue collected from under her fingernails contained DNA that belongs to one Wallace Gardner, arrested by you last December. I'm assuming this makes you happy, because now you get to arrest him again."

"That will be the easiest bust I've ever had, since he is currently incarcerated at the Spring Hill State Penitentiary, doing a hard thiry-five," I said.

"I'll fax you the report," said Leon.

"Thanks. I owe you."

"You could never live long enough to pay back everything you owe me," he said.

"I'll have it put on my gravestone that I died owing Leon Mussleman more than I could repay him."

"You keep my name off of any gravestones," he said. "My wife is looking for a reason to toss all my stuff out on the lawn already."

"See you, Leon."

"See you, Bob."

With the case file in hand I went to see Denny. He wasn't all that happy to see me. The Ghost's appeal was working its way through the system. He was trying to say that the prosecution had withheld evidence during the trial, and that looked bad for Denny, even though it was bullshit. The judge had withheld evidence from both the prosecution and the defense, if you wanted to look at it that way.

"My day is already fucked up. You can't make it any worse," he said.

"What if I could make it better?"

"Not likely."

"How would you like another bite at the apple that is Wallace Gardner?" I asked.

"His appeal can't be finished already," he said.

"What I have here may make the appeal go away," I said.

I could tell he was interested.

It was simple. I had twenty years experience dealing with people who were suffering the effects of using illicit drugs. My testimony was circumstantial, as was the fact that Karla had gone to see Wally in prison. It didn't really matter whether Wally had encouraged an online relationship because Karla was a woman, or because he found out she worked in a vet clinic and had access to the kind of drugs he thought would be fun to take. A very strong circumstantial argument could be made that, once out of prison, he had gone to meet her, and then gotten or forced her to get him something to get high on, since he had no money. Then, for whatever reason, he had killed her and buried her in her own back yard.

After that he had gone on the rampage, trying to get money through muggings, and revenge at Eva's house.

It was all circumstantial ... except his skin cells under the dead woman's fingernails. That was the wooden stake that could be driven through his heart.

Denny said he'd take care of the arrest warrant, and let me know when Wally could be interrogated. He asked if it could be expedited. This case had no bearing on the trial in question, and could be pursued independently from the appeals process. If the prosecution could be put together quickly, it might be finished before the appeal was. If he was found guilty of Karla's murder, it wouldn't really matter if his previous convictions were overturned, or a new trial was ordered.

I felt like this was important enough news that Eva would appreciate knowing about it. It was possible she'd be called to testify about his demeanor while he was in her house, since it was immediately after the alleged murder. She couldn't say he was on drugs, but she could describe the symptoms of drug usage.

By the time I got to the restaurant it was almost two. I knew she went to work at six in the morning, and got off at two most days. I hoped she hadn't left already, because while I was willing to see her at work, I wasn't going to her house. She had made it clear I wasn't welcome there any more.

I walked in and looked around. She was sitting at a table, sorting coins and bills - going through her tips. I walked over.

"Hey," I said.

She looked up and her eyes went as round as her surprised mouth.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm not stalking you. I just have news that's really kind of important and that I thought you deserved to know about."

She blinked, and then said "Oh."

I didn't invite myself to sit down. "It's about Wally," I said. "It's a little bizarre, but basically I got a case on a missing girl who turned up dead, and we have reason to believe Wally was involved."

"Shit!" she blurted. "Get out!"

Another waitress came over, looking very alert. There was quite a pile of cash on the table in front of Eva, so I wasn't surprised.

"Is this guy hassling you, Eva?" she asked.

Eva darted a look at her co-worker. "No. This is Bob. I told you about him. Everything is fine."

The woman looked at me. "You mean he's the guy?"

Eva got a wild look on her face suddenly.

"No!" she gasped. "Wait, Flo!"

But Flo had already turned on me. Her face was getting redder by the second. It was obvious she was pissed as hell.

"You bastard!" she rasped.

"Flo! No. Shut up, Flo!" yelped Eva.

But Flo, who was enraged at me for completely unknown reasons - I had never laid eyes on her before - did not shut up.

"You have some nerve, mister, after what you did, coming around here and smiling all pretty. You're a cop, for pity's sake!" She abandoned me and looked at Eva, who was beet red and obviously in anguish, saying "No, Flo!" over and over again. "Didn't you tell me he was a cop, honey?" Then without waiting for confirmation Flo returned to dumping her wrath on me. "You're a cop! And cops are supposed to help people, not act like alley cats, leaving a hard working nice girl like Eva in the lurch and abandoning your responsibilities!"

"Pleeease shut up, Flo!" cried Eva, tears spilling over her cheeks.

All that did was fire Flo up even more.

"Just look at her, mister high and mighty cop! She's dying inside, and it's all your fault you bastard son of a bitch!"

Eva shot to her feet and screamed "SHUT UP, FLO!"

That's when I saw her rounded belly. She looked entirely wrong with that bulging abdomen. It wasn't a huge bulge, but it just looked all wrong on a girl I knew to be slim, almost concave in that portion of her anatomy.

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