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“It is true!” Tull said. “Just give the process a little time.”
“I don’t need to give the process a little time, and I don’t think I’d trust the word of a Russian mobster anyway,” Ned said, and he put the documents with the results of the mitochondrial analysis and match on the table. “We found hairs at the Kane family crime scene.”
“Slam-dunk match,” I said, watching as Tull and York scanned the document. “Retired U.S. Marine MP and NCIS investigator Thomas Adrian Tull.”
He jerked his head up. “No! This is BS! I have never—”
York put an arm across his chest. “Not another word, Thomas. Or you’re wasting the thousand dollars an hour you’re paying me.”
Tull glared at each of us in turn. “Utter BS,” he said. “Do your job, because I will remember this when it comes time to tell the truth about this story.”
Then he shut up and looked off into the distance.
CHAPTER 79
BREE RETURNED FROM HERrun and showered, and she was getting dressed when Alex phoned her.
“It’s him,” he said. “Tull’s the Family Man. We have DNA evidence that puts him at the Kane crime scene.”
“No kidding,” she said. “Wow, that’s … that’s great, Alex. Well, we all knew you’d figure it out sooner or later. You always do!”
To Bree’s surprise, she’d said this all with increasing irritation.
Alex was quiet and then said, “What’s going on there?”
Bree took a deep breath, examined her emotions. “I think it’s my feelings of inferiority at my inability to make the connections that I know are there,” she said. “If that makes any sense.”
“It does. But I’ve learned not to beat my head against the wall about these things. If there are connections, you’ll find them. Quite honestly, it’s not like we dug up the Tull connectionsourselves. He made two mistakes, with the camera and with the hair.”
“Big mistakes.”
“He’s claiming an alibi, by the way.”
“Against DNA evidence and a photograph of him at the Allisons’?”
“Exactly, but I am under orders from Tull himself to do my job and check it out before rushing to judgment.”
“DNA evidence and a photograph, Alex.”
“Just the same, I think you might be able to help me.”
“Any way I can.”
“Could you get in touch with that pregnant NYPD detective for me?”
“Salazar?” she said.
“If I remember, you said she’d investigated Russian organized crime before looking at Frances Duchaine.”
“The Russian mob in Queens,” Bree said. “One of the leaders was killed in Paula Watkins’s house. She knew all about him.”
“I was hoping so,” Alex said and he explained what he wanted.
“I can do that. I actually spoke with her a little while ago and I have to go up to New York tomorrow morning to talk to the district attorney assigned to the Watkins/Duchaine case. When are you coming home to sleep?”
“I was going to wait for Tull’s arraignment so I could see his face when he pleaded. But the assistant U.S. attorney wants him stone-cold sober, so he won’t face a judge until the morning. I’m going to take another nap, then help search his house. The warrants finally came through.”
“Good,” Bree said. “I’ll let you know what Salazar says.”
