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“Thanks for that,” Durey said. “Let me write that down in my notebook.”
—
The BCA crimescene crew arrived, and Lucas and Virgil backed away, leaving Durey to run things. “I want your statement, quick as you can,” Durey said. “Everything you’ve done since you started working it.”
“We’ll coordinate and give you one statement from both of us,” Lucas said.
“That’ll work.”
Virgil took a last look at Pollard’s body, shook his head, and followed Lucas down the hall.
—
They almost madeit to BCA headquarters.
A half mile out, they took a call—from BCA headquarters. The duty officer said, “You guys put in a request that we track a van owned by a Bob Dahl? It’s at the airport. The airport cops are trying to find it, but they picked it up on the automatic plate reader coming in, and it hasn’t gone out.”
Virgil: “We’re on the way.”
The duty officer called back as they took I-35 south: “Gold Ramp, level 2. They got it.”
—
When they gotto Gold Ramp, level 2, they found an airport cop named Rex Drummin waiting for them. There were no empty spots, so they pulled to the side, parked, and got out.
Drummin walked over and said, “Haven’t touched it. The BOLO said the guy might be a runner.”
“What are the chances that you might have video of him?”
“About a hundred percent,” Drummin said. “We got cameras everywhere, and we’ve got the exact time of entry from the plate reader. You want to look at the car first?”
“Yeah.”
Virgil went back to Lucas’s Porsche and got a pair of gloves from the equipment bag, walked back to the van and tried the passenger side door, which popped open.
“That’s not something you see every day,” Drummin said. “They’re usually locked up tight as a...”
Lucas and Virgil looked at each other and Virgil said, “A drummin?”
“I didn’t want to say that,” Drummin said.
Virgil opened the door, and Drummin shined a flashlight over his shoulder. The van’s keys were sitting on the passenger seat, which explained the unlocked door. The van was empty, except for the usual paper litter.
“Not much,” Virgil said. “Let’s look in the back.”
They popped the cargo doors. The back of the van was empty, except for what looked exactly like a hand-sized blood stain on the carpeted floor.
“Oh, boy,” Virgil said.
“We need to get the BCA crime scene crew here,” Lucas told Drummin. “We need the car locked up tight, and we need somebody to sit on this area to make sure nobody messes with it. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely. Let me get on my radio.”
Drummin made the call, and they all waited until an airport cop car arrived with two cops inside. They explained the situation, and when they were sure it was understood, followed Drummin to police parking, and then to the on-site operations headquarters on the baggage level.
Since the van’s arrival was recent, and the time precise, it didn’t take long to find the relevant video.
Lucas looked and muttered, “Sonofabitch.”
