“This is our staff, and this is Marshall.” She pointed at a photo on the second row.
Greening didn’t have to compare the photo with the one on his phone. He’d burnt the image of the Tally Man into his head, and Marshall Beck was the guy.
“What does he do here?” Greening asked.
“He’s our financial officer. He takes care of our accounts and writes grants. I don’t understand this. Marshall is a nice guy, a bit stiff and awkward, but a good guy. Has he really abducted this woman?”
“Do you have Marshall Beck’s contact information, address, phone numbers, things like that?” Ogawa asked.
“Yes, of course. In my office.”
“Which office is Beck’s?” Ogawa asked.
“His is across from mine.”
“Do I have your permission to search it and check out his computer?”
“Yes. I give you permission.”
“Thank you,” Ogawa said. “I’m calling this in. Greening, you go with Kristi.”
Kristi took him into her office. She went to her computer and pulled up Beck’s details. Greening scribbled down the San Francisco address.
“Edward, I’ve got his address.”
Ogawa came rushing in with his phone to his ear. He snatched the paper with Beck’s info on it and left the office, requesting a SWAT team.
Shock spread across Kristi’s face. She turned to Greening. “Is SWAT really necessary?”
“You think you know Mr. Beck, but you only know a version of him. We know another. Have you called him? If you’ve warned him, I need to know.”
Kristi frowned. “I have called him, but not about this. Something happened here yesterday.”
“What?”
“A few weeks ago, Fremont Police busted a professional dog-fighting ring. We took in those dogs for assessment. Marshall took a liking to one of them. He wanted to adopt it, but it failed the assessment, so we were ordered to destroy it, by the court. Marshall didn’t take the news well, and I think he stole the dog. I called him and even went to his place, but he wasn’t there. I don’t know where he is.”
Loves dogs, hates people, Greening thought. There was no figuring some people.
He looked at the address on Kristi’s screen. It was a residential address in Noe Valley, not the kind of place for torturing people without being heard.
“Besides this address, is there anywhere else he would hang out or go? We’re looking for somewhere quiet or private.”
“I believe he owns some other property—a farm or something. He’s mentioned it before. Up past Redding, I think. I don’t know where, though.”
Public records would, he thought. He really needed to work the databases on this guy. Beck wouldn’t be at his home, and he’d know the SFPD and just about every other law enforcement agency would be on to him by now. He’d go farther afield if he was looking to disappear.
“Thank you for your help. I’d like to talk to your staff about Mr. Beck. When do they come in?”
“Some in the next half hour.”
“I appreciate your cooperation. Again, please have no more contact with Mr. Beck.”
Kristi was eerily quiet.
“Is there something else?”
“Laurie Hernandez. The news mentioned a connection.”
“Yes. Did you know her?”
“She came here. We had to throw her out a couple of times for being cruel to the animals. She was here the day before she died. Marshall escorted her from the building. He couldn’t have killed her, could he?”
“Edward,” Greening called out. “We have possible motive on Laurie Hernandez.”
Within an hour, the SFPD had taken over the animal rescue center. Greening and a handful of officers interviewed staff. Ogawa supervised crime techs, who were crawling through Marshall’s office and computer. Now that they had a name, social security number, and a bank account his salary was deposited into, the Investigations Unit had a paper trail to follow. Who Marshall Beck was and had ever been was a database away. Thanks to the DMV, a BOLO was out on his Honda Pilot. Beck would be caught. It was just a matter of time. And that was the problem for Greening. The investigation was moving fast, but not fast enough for Zo?.
Greening checked his notes and thanked one of the animal techs for her time. He was conducting his interviews in the adoption office. He’d gotten from her what he’d gotten from all of Beck’s coworkers—he was quiet, socially awkward, and kept to himself.
As the animal tech saw herself out, Ogawa walked in. “SWAT just went in. No one there.”
Greening had guessed as much.
“They’re combing the place now. It sounds clean. Nothing connecting him to Zo? or Laurie Hernandez.”
Greening hated Marshall Beck. The son of a bitch was reckless, but he was careful too. He hid himself so well. “What now?”
“The battleship approach. We comb every square inch of this city until we find him. That’s how it’s done.”
The problem was it was slow.