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Jo forced her hands not to curl into fists. “Do we have an approximate time of death?”
“My best estimate, based on core temperature and blood coagulation as best I can estimate, is somewhere between four and seven thirty this morning. But since the park opened at six thirty and the body was found at seven forty-five, that may be a more accurate window,” Marzillo said.
“We’ll see if we can narrow it down more based on when she entered,” Jo said. “Anything else you can tell us?”
“Not yet. Until we undress her completely it’s hard to tell if she has other injuries we can’t see, and we have a large area to search. But if there’s even an errant gum wrapper here, my team will find it.”
* * *
Once Hayes left the site, Jo and Arnett interviewed the man who’d found Sakurai. He’d stopped on the way into the gardens to get a map from the visitor center, and chit-chatted with the attendant and bought a birdwatching guide before going directly into the Zen garden. He produced the receipt, the time on which verified it would have been nearly impossible logistically for him to kill Sakurai. They took his identifying information regardless, and verified he had an alibi for the time of Ashville’s murder.
Next, they located the one-way exit closest to the topiary garden, a metal contraption akin to a revolving door, but with a set of bars on one side that prevented entrance back into the park. Jo examined the clearance of the doors and bars. “Should we have the team fingerprint this? God only knows how many people push out of here in a day. They’ll be fighting through hundreds of prints even if our killer was stupid enough to forget his gloves at home.”
“Yeah, it’s a long shot, but I think we gotta take it,” Arnett said. “Who knows, might be the final piece of the puzzle that gets us a conviction.”
“One hundred percent of shots not taken don’t go in,” Jo said, face grim. She made a phone call to Officer Rivera, who promised to send someone to cordon off the exit ASAP.
“So, next steps,” Jo said as they waited. “We’ll need to make an appeal to the public for anybody who was in the park this morning. We already have a hotline set up for Sandra’s death, right? We can put this on the same one.”
“And we’ll need to review that security footage,” Arnett said. “Good news is, this narrows down our suspect list. We’re looking for someone with a connection to both Sandra Ashville and Winnie Sakurai.”
Jo tapped on her phone. “And since Sakurai retired just under a year ago, she hasn’t had anyone on her docket in at least that long.”
“We can also cross off Sandra’s husband.” Arnett flashed his badge at an approaching jogger. “Exit’s closed.”
The man’s eyes widened, and he made an abrupt U-turn.
Jo watched him check back over his shoulder. “I’m not a hundred percent sure about that. If there was a domestic violence issue in the marriage, Sakurai may have known about it. And something weird is going on there, with an alleged boyfriend we can’t find any trace of.”
Arnett grimaced skeptically. “Feels like a stretch.”
“I agree it’s more likely someone Sandra prosecuted and Sakurai sentenced, but we should at least follow through. And it should be easy enough to check if Sakurai ever came into contact with Mitch Hauptmann,” Jo said.
“As far as Flynn,” Arnett said, “her mystery mentor could’ve been Sakurai. Judges don’t necessarily stop giving career advice once they’ve retired.”
“And if she’s angry enough about the death of her career, she might spread that blame to the person who gave her the career-ending advice.”
“Easy enough to check. If they were in contact, there’ll be some record. Email, phone calls, texts.”
“I keep going back to the blindfold and the posing. Like Marzillo said, if you’re just looking to tie the cases together, why pick a way that risks getting blood all over yourself? And why blindfold someone after you kill them? That and the posed arms—it’s too strangenotto be significant. But what does it mean?”
Arnett shook his head, frustrated. “Beats me. Hopefully something will pop out when we go over the case files.”
A late twenty-something white male officer approached at a rapid pace. “You here to secure this?” Jo asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.
They left him to it, striding quickly back across the park toward the front entrance.
“I’ve walked enough today to count for a week,” Arnett deadpanned as they reached the parking lot. “Laura will be ecstatic.”
Jo half-smiled. Arnett’s wife had been on a mission to improve his health for a decade, with varying levels of success. She’d managed to get him to quit smoking, and he rarely drank alcohol anymore. But he was still far too fond of junk food and far too averse to exercise. “I’m surprised she hasn’t bought you one of those Fitbit things to track your daily steps.”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“She did buy you one?” She glanced to his wrist. “Where is it?”
“After Ilostthe third one, she gave up.” He put finger quotes around the word ‘lost.’
