That he believed.
Racine had mentioned the program. He had checked and found that the last bus dropped off passengers at about six thirty. Even if Sam and Jeffery had hung around to do more filming, the time stamp on her footage displayed 11:10. That was a pretty late dinner for a thirty-two-year-old woman who had a six-year-old son at home.
He’d checked out Samantha Ramirez last night, too. As remorseful as she seemed about switching cartridges on him, there was something this woman wasn’t telling him. Something she didn’t want him to know.
Nadira had started playing the film and Tully sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, since they were up to his chest anyway. He pushed his glasses up and settled his chin on his fists. The position pulled at his shoulder, reminding him that it was still tender from his fall in the alley.
There were very few people in Sam’s initial sweep with the camera. She caught them wide-eyed, crawling up off the sidewalk or wandering into the street from the alleys and door wells. The first flames were encased behind the windows, which were still intact. It was almost as if the fire had just started. Was it possible that they had been there that soon?
“Do you know who called in the fire?”
“No idea.”
“How did Jeffery find out?”
“He has a police scanner. He always knows stuff before anyone else. Sometimes I think he must be psychic.”
“Jeffery psychic. That’s a scary thought,” Nadira said, and he and Sam laughed.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Sam asked Tully. “Some guy jerking off? Isn’t that what Berkowitz did?” But she didn’t wait for Tully to answer and continued, “Or that arson investigator in California during the 1980s where the fires were always close to conventions he just happened to be attending.”
“Seriously?” Nadira asked. “Criminals can be such stupid bastards.”
“Who was the guy in Seattle that started like seventy-some fires before his father turned him in?”
“Paul Keller,” Tully said, and turned to look at her. “How do you know so much about all these cases?”
“Are you kidding? Haven’t you watched any of Jeffery’s investigative pieces on these fires? He has more background trivia than Nadira will ever be able to squeeze in.”
Tully saw Nadira smile, if you could call it that. The corner of his mouth lifted a notch.
“He’ll be able to use some of it in his behind-bars documentary,” Nadira said. “Because he’s already pushed Big Mac to the limit on these arsons.”
“Big Mac?” Tully asked.
“Donald Malcolm. Our bureau chief,” Sam explained. “He’s lost interest in the fires. They’re not a big enough story.”
“Really? How can this not be a big story?”
“No body count.”
Tully checked his watch. They would already be started on the autopsy. He didn’t agree with holding back the information that they had found a body in the alley and a skull inside one of the buildings. It wasn’t his call. Instead, he watched the chaos unfold on the monitor in front of him.
He wondered who called in the fire. Then he realized Racine had never really told him how the body in the alley had been found. Did the firefighters find it? Or did the person who called in the fire know about the dead body? He made a mental note and pushed up his glasses again. That’s when he saw a block of red in the middle of the bystanders.
“Stop the film.”
Nadira hit a button. The screen froze.
Tully pointed. “Is there any way to zoom in on this?”
Without a word, Nadira tapped several keys.
“What is it?” Sam leaned in over their shoulders.
Tully watched the red block grow larger. It took several seconds for the blurred image to come into focus.
It was difficult to make out the item, seeing only a slit of it between the bodies, but Tully thought it might be a red backpack.
“Can you pull back on the zoom but keep this red block in the center and start the film again?”
More taps and movement began, though subtle. The cluster of people stood still, watching. Soon the red started to move, snaking slowly through the group and inching away from the action. Before the man carrying it reached the corner of Sam’s viewfinder he disappeared.
“Stop it,” Tully said. “Can you rewind and zoom in on this guy before he moves away from the crowd?”
Nadira obeyed.
“Who is he?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know, but I have his backpack.”
CHAPTER 38
Maggie drove to Quantico to meet with Keith Ganza while Racine worked on identifying the victim. Tully didn’t answer his phone and Maggie suspected he might still be at the television station.