A Killing in China Basin

THIRTY-ONE


When Raveneau met up with the China Basin realtor the braggadocio was gone, and listening to him, he got the feeling the owners of the building had come down hard on him. The Great Recession was yet to let up on real estate and Raveneau doubted the owners thought a homicide in their building was a selling point.

‘We’ve cleaned it up,’ the realtor said as if talking to a potential client. ‘Let me show you.’ Once inside, he toured Raveneau. ‘Look at this now. Imagine working here with that view of the bay. We’ve lowered the price, you know. Or maybe you don’t know that.’

Raveneau didn’t know. He looked across the water at Yerba Buena/Treasure Island. Plans had floated to build a new community, put up skyscrapers, casinos, build a mini-Hong Kong, or alternately a green community. But you heard little of that any more. The architects he knew were all looking for work or getting by on a lot less, and that’s what it looked like ahead, and what he figured we’d all do. Do more with less.

They had painted, re-carpeted, cleaned the windows, put in a new gate and exterior doors, added a video surveillance system, and gotten the power turned back on. The new video camera caught something last night the realtor thought they would want to see, so la Rosa was also on her way here.

Raveneau looked through a window at the video camera sitting up on the edge of the roof parapet like a sea gull. He guessed that somehow it was cheaper to put it up there. It was and the realtor explained how.

‘There’s an unused vent pipe on the roof that they ran the wire down. When the building sells we’ll take the equipment with us. The monitor is in a broom closet down the hall here.’ As they reached the room where Jurika was killed, Raveneau stopped and looked in at the newly painted walls, beige carpet, and a ceiling light fixture with a price tag dangling off it.

‘We got it all,’ the realtor said. ‘You can’t tell anything happened here, can you?’

He couldn’t. Raveneau followed him to the broom closet and watched the video. The system was a cheap one and the camera angle on the roof wasn’t good, but the van was Heilbron’s. He watched Heilbron walk up and try several keys in the gate lock.

‘Recognize him?’ the realtor asked.

‘Yeah, he’s someone we’ve questioned.’

‘What’s he want to get in here for?’

‘We’ll ask him.’

‘Who is he?’

‘I’d like to get a copy of that tape if I can.’

They watched as Heilbron walked back to his van and opened the rear doors. Getting to his toolboxes, Raveneau thought. Heilbron returned to the gate a few minutes later and the realtor exhaled loudly and said, ‘This city is nuts. I’ve got to get out of here.’

Raveneau watched Heilbron open the gate. A few minutes later he was through the main door. A small side camera caught that.

‘Was your lock damaged?’

‘No. Can’t you arrest him anyway?’

‘We’d need better footage to prove it’s who I’m sure it is. Did he take anything?’

‘Not as far as I know. At least tell me why he wants to get in here. You must at least have an idea?’

Raveneau turned to him. He saw the disbelief on the man’s face.

‘I don’t know why. I’m wondering the same thing myself.’