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“Murder and identity theft, with the local police and two federal agencies tripping over each other? Yeah, it’s a real delight.”
I managed a genuine smile this time. “Maybe you can enlighten me on something.”
>
“I’ll try.”
“Two things, actually. What’s the connection between the Mob guy from New York and the case? I take it the murder wasn’t a Mafia hit. Is the Mob involved in the identity thefts?”
Ray looked bemused. “Not as far as I know. The Mob guy is Jergins’ obsession, but no one else seems to care.”
“Yet that guy he’s looking for—Knudsen—he has some connection to this, right?”
“I guess so. Again, Jergins is the one you’d have to ask.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he’d tell me,” I said. “The other thing is Bruce Schaeffer. He was out of town the weekend Garvey was killed, right?”
“Right. His family says he was visiting.”
“So they might lie for him.”
“Other people corroborate his story, not just his family.”
“And Melanie was the only one who saw Garvey that weekend?”
“Well—” He looked at me.
“Well, what?”
“This is something I’ll have to give you anyway, so I’ll tell you. Hers were not the only fingerprints at the scene.”
“Really?” Nice of the cops to leave that bit of information out. Cops have that nasty habit sometimes.
“There was another set of prints, unidentified.”
Fascinating. A mysterious visitor meeting the mysterious Mr. Garvey. Who could that be?
Chapter TWENTY-ONE
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After Ray left, I washed the dishes and looked up Ryan Bledsoe online. When I called, a woman I figured was his wife answered, sounding breathy and distracted. I explained who I was and what I wanted, and she told me Ryan wasn’t there.
“Could I leave a message?” I asked. On the other end, I could hear a child babbling in the background and a baby squeal. I couldn’t tell if it was in joy or pain.
“Well, sure, but you might want to call him at the dealership. See, we were supposed to go to the ocean today,” she said, giving the o in ocean the typical, Baltimorean emphasis, “’cept the dealership called him in unexpected. I’m trying to pack and all, so we can hit the road when he gets home. Kirsten? Kirsten, put that down.”
“How late will he be there?”
“They close at six, but you should call him right now, I think.”
“I’m heading up there anyway,” I said. “Maybe I could swing by the place and talk to him.”
“If you think that’s best,” she said, sounding a little uncertain. “Will this take long?”
“No, I just prefer to talk to people in person.”
“It’s that we’re supposed to be in Ocean City right now. If it weren’t for work, we would be. I know he’s trying to leave as soon as possible.”
