Miles nodded, noting the contrast between Holloway's neighborhood and the wealthy enclaves where their victims had lived. "If he's our killer, he's certainly not motivated by personal financial gain.”
They sat in the car for a moment, both of them taking in the details of the house and surrounding area. Miles found himself studying Vic's profile as she observed the scene, noting the way her eyes moved systematically across the property, cataloging details that might prove relevant later. There was something almost predatory about her focus, but in a way that suggested competence rather than aggression. She was like a craftsman examining materials before beginning an important project.
They exited the car and walked up the short pathway to the front door, their shoes clicking against concrete that was cracked but clean. The porch held a single wooden chair and a small table with a coffee mug sitting on it, as if someone had been reading there recently. Vic knocked on the front door with the authoritative rhythm that Miles assumed all law enforcement officers learned during training.
The door opened after a moment, revealing a man in his early fifties. He was dressed in a blue polo shirt and khaki shorts. He was tall and lean, with graying brown hair that looked like he cut it himself and wire-rimmed glasses that had seen better days. His face had the weathered look of someone who spent time outdoors, but his practiced smile spoke of someone who had spent time in office and board rooms.
"Mr. Holloway?" Vic said, producing her badge and ID in a smooth motion that Miles found impressive in its efficiency. "I'm Special Agent Victoria Stone with the FBI, and this is Dr. Miles Sterling. We'd like to ask you a few questions about a case we're working on."
Holloway's eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn't seem particularly alarmed. "FBI?” He seemed to consider the threeletters for a moment before shrugging and opening the door a bit wider. “Well, that's certainly not something I expected to hear today." His voice carried a slight accent that Miles couldn't quite place, maybe somewhere from the Midwest originally. "Please, come in.”
They followed him into a living room that reflected the same modest sensibilities as the exterior of the house. The furniture was comfortable but clearly purchased for durability rather than style. A worn leather couch faced a small television, and bookshelves lined two walls, packed with legal texts, social justice literature, and what appeared to be an extensive collection of mystery novels. The coffee table held several newspapers folded open to different sections, and legal documents were stacked neatly on a small desk in the corner.
“Can I offer you something to drink?" Holloway asked.
"Coffee would be great, if it's not too much trouble," Vic said, settling onto the couch in a way that managed to seem both relaxed and alert.
"Not at all. Dr. Sterling?"
"Coffee sounds good, thank you," Miles replied, taking a seat beside Vic and trying to emulate her balance of casual professionalism.
Holloway disappeared into what Miles assumed was the kitchen, and they could hear the sounds of coffee preparation. Miles took the opportunity to study the living room more carefully, noting the framed photographs on the mantelpiece that showed Holloway at various rallies and community events. One photo showed him speaking to a crowd gathered outside what looked like a government building, his face animated with the passion of someone making an argument he believed in deeply. He looked over to Vic, who was studying a bookshelf that included titles on housing law and tenant rights—not standard bookshelf fare.
Holloway returned with three mugs of coffee on a small tray, along with cream and sugar. He settled into an armchair across from them, wrapping his hands around his mug as if seeking warmth from it.
"So what can I help the FBI with?" he asked, his tone curious rather than defensive.
Vic took a sip of her coffee before responding. Miles found himself admiring the way she seemed to consider her words carefully without appearing hesitant. "We're investigating a series of murders here in San Francisco, and we've recently discovered that all the victims were involved in a real estate development deal that you filed a lawsuit against."
A look of disdain came across his face for a moment and realization settled in. He nodded and let out a sigh. "Patricia Vance's luxury condo project, right?”
“Yes, that would be the one.”
"I assume you're talking about the Morrison Building development?"
"That's right," Vic confirmed. "Along with other investors in the project."
Holloway set down his coffee mug and leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped together. "I have to say, I'm not entirely surprised to hear that people involved in that deal might have made enemies. What they were doing to those families was unconscionable."
Miles watched Vic's face as she processed this response, noting the way she seemed to file away Holloway's immediate emotional reaction while maintaining her professional demeanor. Her ability to remain neutral while gathering information was something he was beginning to appreciate more with each exchange. He wondered if she might have made an exceptional counselor in another life.
"Can you tell us about the nature of your lawsuit?" Vic asked.
"Well…Patricia’s company was systematically deceiving low-income families about the timeline for their displacement," Holloway explained, his voice carrying the controlled anger of someone who had rehearsed these details many times. "They told people they had eighteen months to find new housing, then started eviction proceedings after six months. They falsified environmental impact assessments to expedite the permitting process, and they failed to provide proper notification to tenants about their rights during the displacement process."
"That must have been frustrating," Miles said, trying to contribute to the interview without overstepping his role.
"Frustrating doesn't begin to cover it," Holloway replied, his eyes flashing with genuine anger. "These were families who had lived in that building for decades. Elderly people, single mothers with children, disabled residents who couldn't easily relocate. Vance's company treated them like obstacles to be removed rather than human beings with rights."
Vic leaned forward slightly, and Miles could see her shifting into a more direct questioning mode. "Mr. Holloway, we need to ask you about some specific statements you made to the media regarding this case."
"Such as?"
"You were quoted as saying that the development deal represented 'greed that suffocates the innocent.' Do you remember making that statement?"
Holloway's expression grew more serious, as if he was beginning to understand the direction of their questioning. "I did say that, yes. I believed it then and I believe it now. Granted, I wish I’d thought it out a bit more before I actuallysaidit in the media."
"The reason we're asking," Vic continued, her tone remaining neutral, "is that all three victims in our case were killed bysuffocation. Specifically, they were coated in gold leaf that prevented them from breathing."
