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“One of the callers said they saw Nina in California in the company of a ‘creepy cult dude.’ That one sounded flaky. But the other two were both from Boston. One caller said they saw Nina in a bar on Boylston Street on Saturday night. That person gave their name and sounded credible. Another caller—this one was anonymous—said they saw a girl who looked just like Nina buying drugs on a street corner one block over from Boylston Street. Also on Saturday night.” Sarah Jane sounded excited.
“Can you call the bar and ask if they have security footage? Also, call Boston PD and see what they’ve got for the street corner and any of the surrounding blocks.”
“I already called the bar. They’ve got the whole night on tape. They’ve got three cameras that capture the whole bar, and everything gets backed up to the cloud. I asked them to send it over, and they’ll do it without a warrant, but we won’t get it until the morning. They’ve got a private security company that manages the backup, and they’re not available until nine A.M. tomorrow.”
“Good work. That’s very good work.”
“I’ll call Boston PD now and get back to you.” She sounded pleased.
“Let me know if you run into any resistance.”
“I’ll do that.” There was a pause. “Do you think it could be her? That we might find her?”
It sounded positive, two sightings in the same location at around the same time, but Matthew did not feel hopeful. He’d received too many calls in the past that had led to nothing, calls from members of the public with poor eyesight or overactive imaginations. And despite what he’d said to Leanne Fraser, everything was pointing him right at Simon Jordan. Boston just felt like a distraction.
“There’s one more thing,” Sarah Jane said. “While you were at the search, we got two calls from a guy complaining about the Fraser family. Well, about Andrew Fraser mostly. The caller gave his name as Dick Cheney, and he said he lived at the White House, so... you know. He said that Andrew was a convicted pedophile and that he murdered Nina to stop her coming forward. I mean, obviously the guy is, you know, delusional, but then we got a call from another lady asking if we knew that Andrew had abused girls in the past and wanting to confirm that we’re looking into him.”
“Shit.”
“I checked to see if Andrew Fraser has a record, and he doesn’t.”
“No, I know that. And all high-profile cases attract this kind of thing. Conspiracy theories and fixated individuals. It’s tough on the family, but it happens. I just... I’m surprised it’s happening this fast.”
“Maybe that’s the nature of the internet these days. Everything happens bigger and faster.”
“I guess that’s it,” Matthew said. They walked back to the squad room together. “I want to look into this theory about the floor cleaner. Can you follow up with forensics? Ask them for a list of all the cleaning products available locally that would produce this active oxygen effect. And let’s ask the Jordans who their cleaners are. Let’s talk to them.”
Sarah Jane took a note. “I did some research. Active oxygen cleaners are pretty new, but the information about how they interfere with luminol is online. Still, I can’t imagine most people would know that information unless they deliberately went looking for it.”
“If Simon killed her, he could have just looked up how to clean a crime scene and then found the right detergent in the house somewhere. In their laundry room.”
“Yes. In which case that search would show up on his phone data, right?”
They exchanged glances.
“Anything yet from the warrants?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve called and emailed, but you know, it could be months before they get back to us.”
“Sometimes they’re slow, sometimes they’re fast. Let’s hope we fall into the latter category. Try calling them again. If you speak to a human and not a messaging service, remind them that the case is getting a lot of airtime.” Maybe it would help that the case was getting so much publicity. Maybe some data wonk over in Mountain View or Cupertino would read about Nina Fraser and get curious.
“Okay. Of course. I’ll get right on it. Also, I still haven’t heard from Rory Jordan about the security cameras.”
“He came to me at the search and told me that the cameras hadn’t been commissioned yet. They were installed two weeks ago, but the security company was waiting on a router.”
“Damn. That’s bad luck.” She paused. “Do we believe him?”
“He gave me the number of his security firm. I’ll call them, see what they have to say.”
Matthew let her go. What he really wanted now was a warrant to search the Jordans’ house in Waitsfield, for cleaning products and anything else they might find. Unfortunately, he didn’t think a warrant would be granted. Rory Jordan was a powerful man, and generous with his political donations. Judges would be slow to sign off on a warrant without something solid. Matthew needed more evidence. The alert from the cadaver dog was interesting. Matthew had gone out himself to inspect the disturbed ground where she had alerted. He’d had men dig, but they’d found nothing. It was highly suspicious. Unfortunately, the dog alert could not be used as evidence. She was an older dog, retired, and she hadn’t been with a professional handler when she’d alerted. But there was nothing to stop them from sending out another dog, this time following all the required procedures. Matthew picked up the phone, called a friend at the K-9 unit, and called in a favor.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Leanne
Matthew Wright offered to arrange for me to be driven home, after our little interview and his warning to me in that shitty room in the police station. Andy looked grim. Matthew Wright didn’t wait around to explain anything. He just disappeared back into the police station. Maybe he thought he was being discreet, or sensitive, giving us time to talk as a family.
Andy hugged me briefly, and we left. I tried to take Grace’s hand as we walked to the car, but she put her hand in her pocket and kept walking. Andy started the engine, reversed, and drove out of the parking lot without saying a word.
