Chapter 44
I HAD BEEN in court, sitting behind Del Rio, when my cell phone buzzed. I went out to the hallway to talk to Detective Tandy, who gave me the breaking news on the crispy Aston Martin in Point Dume.
He asked, “You happen to have a sleepover guest who can verify you were in bed this morning at six?”
“No. Are you actually looking at me for this, Tandy? Or do you just have a crush on me?”
“It’s called thorough police work, Jack. And I’m keeping track of you to make sure you’re not a target. Believe it or not, that’s the truth. Do me a favor. Let me know if you plan to leave town. If I can’t find you, I might worry.”
“Thanks, Mitch. I’m touched.”
I called Justine, and then I called Dr. Sci.
I told my chief scientist that there was a new entry in the car-explosions series and that I wanted him to go to the crime scene on Grayfox Street, check out what was left of the hundred-thousand-dollar sports car, see if he could gain some insight into the who and why.
I returned to the courtroom, stared at the back of Del Rio’s head as medical professionals testified about the surgical procedures Vicky Carmody had endured after her admission to the hospital.
I was listening to the testimony, but I was thinking about this recent car destruction too. I knew where Tommy’s car was this morning. I had checked my phone and read the GPS data telling me that his Ferrari had remained at the Socket until 8:45 a.m.
Since Tommy’s murderous machinations last year, I’ve had cameras on his house, a call tracker on his phone. I could check on his whereabouts for the previous eighteen hours once I got back to the office.
Sci called and I left the courtroom again, sat on a bench in the hallway, and watched the live footage Sci streamed to my phone.
First up, a Realtor’s-eye view of the fantastic homes on Grayfox Street, then the exterior of the six-million-dollar gated house in question. The gates were wide open. And inside the courtyard, lying like a small asteroid in front of the Mediterranean-style villa, were the burned remains of a once-beautiful car.
Sci’s face came on my screen.
“The car is totally incinerated, Jack. Looks just like your Lambo. The fire started under the car, probably detonated by a cell phone. The gas tank is BLEVE’d, so it exploded from the inside. Safe to assume the lab will find remains of latex in the tank.” Sci paused, then said, “And here they come.”
As I watched, a flatbed truck from the city’s forensic lab passed Sci and drove into the courtyard. The ME’s van was right behind the truck. Both city vehicles came to a stop, and personnel got out, CSU techs and assistants to the ME, respectively.
I was puzzling over the presence of people from the coroner’s office when the ME, Dr. Andrews himself, got out of the van and began directing his techs, who were carrying a stretcher.
“Sci, what’s this mean?”
“This—this isn’t good,” he said.
There was a huddle outside the burned car as the two forensic divisions discussed, I assumed, procedure. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when the ME’s people backed off, CSU prepared to load the carcass of the car onto the flatbed.
I heard Sci say, “That’s right. I’m talking to Jack.”
Mitch Tandy’s face loomed, close up in my hand.
“I’m shutting down your live feed, Jack. But I don’t want to leave you hanging. There was a girl in the backseat of that Aston, sleeping off a party. That’s right. This time the firebug killed a human being. That changes things, doesn’t it, Jack.”