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Chapter 29
I spent twominutes on my phone verifying the information Ellen Minshew had given me about the homicide in Baltimore. News articles from twenty-one months ago corroborated her recollection that Michelle Luna was a fitness trainer. Luna’s photo looked like a professional model’s. Brown hair in a ponytail, dark eyes, and an engaging smile. She radiated health. As I did when I read about any victim of a homicide, I said a little prayer for her and her parents. The families of homicide victims are quickly forgotten, but their pain lasts a lifetime.
I wasted no time in getting on an interstate headed northeast to Baltimore. I called the Baltimore Police Department’s homicide unit and spoke to a Detective Stephanie Holly, who met me in the lobby of the department’s headquarters. I was surprised at her wholesome, midwestern appearance. I tried to hide it with a cordial greeting.
The detective saw right through it. She smiled. It was an amazing smile. “I know, you never would’ve guessed I was a homicide detective.”
“I’m sorry. You’re not my typical image of a tough Baltimore cop.”
“I’m older than I look.”
A passing uniform sergeant chuckled and said, “She’s taller than she looks too.”
I tried not to laugh, but I could tell this was a common line of jokes. Detective Holly was probably five foot one and couldn’t have weighed more than 110 pounds. Though she wore her hair short in a practical style favored by cops and nurses everywhere, she could almost pass for a University of Maryland student. I noticed scars on the knuckles of her right hand. She had punched a few people over the years. I bet she was tough.
I followed her one flight up a rear, wooden staircase, our footsteps sending echoes up the stairwell. Detective Holly looked over her shoulder and said, “I checked you out through the blue hotline. You’ve had some pretty decent cases with the NYPD. My friend Chuck, who works at One Police Plaza, says you’re a legend in the department.”
The blue hotline is a back-channel way for cops to check one another out. Everyone knows someone at a major department. From there it’s just a game of six degrees of separation. New York and Baltimore are both on the East Coast. Both right along I-95. And both cities have active underworlds that no one wants to talk about. At least no one other than the cops.
I caught some interaction between Detective Holly and the other detectives on her squad. I was impressed.
A tall, younger black detective, trying to pull off a porkpie hat, stepped right in front of her desk and looked me up and down. He said to Detective Holly, “Why’d you bring your pops into the office today?”
“Because your dad was still getting his toenails done.”
When another detective tried to grab a file off her desk, Detective Holly cut her eyes to him and simply said, “If that file is not back on my desk by the time I sign out this afternoon, you’re going to have to pee sitting down for the next six months.”
I didn’t know what that meant and it scared me. I’m sure if I understood the inside joke, I’d be even more terrified.
Then, without missing a beat, the detective unleashed that perfect smile and said, “C’mon, I’ll give you a tour and brief you on the entire case.” She handed me a copy of her case file on the Michelle Luna homicide.
A few minutes later, we were in her city-issued Crown Victoria. A real police car. I was relieved she hadn’t asked me to drive my rental. That would’ve been humiliating.
My impression of Baltimore was that it was like most cities on the East Coast. To a New Yorker it seemed smaller but rougher. There was little new construction, residential or commercial, in this part of town. Young men lingered on the corners, their eyes following our car.
Detective Holly said, “We don’t concede Baltimore to New York as being the toughest police job.”
“We have about forty thousand cops.”
“I don’t think that would be enough to get Baltimore under control. And we only have about twenty-five hundred cops. Between gangs and a DA who’s not much interested in prosecuting, crime has spiraled out of control. We’ve had mayors go to jail, and no one trusts a single council member. We were hoping some of the national attention we’ve been getting lately might lead to some relief. But the city administrators don’t seem to care.”
I said, “I think most cops feel that way. Although, I agree: Baltimore does get its share of time in the spotlight on the national news.”
We pulled down a street with two abandoned cars on one side and no vehicles at all on the other. It reminded me of a postapocalyptic movie. Or of Newark. Only a few people were on the sidewalk, and more than half the businesses appeared to be closed. A cat sprinted across the street.
Detective Holly said, “I’m a little short on time, so I’m showing you one of our rougher neighborhoods closer to the PD. The Fairfield area, where Michelle Luna was murdered, is closer to the water.
“The body was found in the front seat of a newer Audi the victim had leased in DC.”
I tried to visualize exactly how crowded the streets might be on a Saturday night. I had read in the report that the medical examiner put her time of death sometime between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m. Her body wasn’t discovered until nine o’clock the next morning.
Detective Holly said, “It’s one of the few WWHs in that part of the city.”
“WWH?”
“White woman homicide.” She did a tactical 360 sweep with her eyes all around the car. “At the time the body was found, the news was calling her a victim of street gang violence. I don’t buy that for a minute. Street gangs commit violence to protect their territory or their drug routes. They don’t give a shit about a woman from Washington coming up to get her kicks.”
“Do you have any suspects?”
“Nothing decent. The killer seemed to know what he was doing. He sprayed the entire interior of her Audi with WD-40 to screw up any forensics. But an industrious forensic scientist checked everything and came up with some DNA on the back of the victim’s earring. We believe it’s from the killer. He choked Michelle Luna from behind.
I thought about this for a moment. They had DNA evidence. This could get interesting.
