“Yes, it would.”
“If it’s not the original, we should get the serial number off it and find out where it came from. Might be hot. Now, how about Cody North’s death? What are your thoughts on it? Forensics says there were no fragments of skin or clothing under the fingernails. Jason’s lawyers will use that.”
“If Cody North was close enough to the edge of the trail to go down without a fight, or to not see it coming, then if there was someone else there, it had to be someone he trusted, someone he’d let get close to him. Someone like Jason.”
“But Jason was in Port Angeles. He’s got the proof. Unless he hired someone to kill Cody for him.”
“Not necessarily,” said Verraday. “I was thinking about that. Port Angeles is only two and a half hours away by car. He would have had just enough time to call Cody, arrange to meet him, drive down, kill him, and drive back in time to fly that plane into Seattle at eight AM.”
“But he had the car rental contract that showed only twenty miles on the odometer.”
“You know, if I was looking for an alibi for where I was when someone was killed, and the place was driving distance from where that killing took place, I would order a bottle of wine from room service. Then I would take a glass down to the beach in front of the hotel where everybody would see me. Then just to be really certain I’d been noticed, I’d leave my rental car parked as close to the office as possible, so everybody could see it too, see that it was parked there all night.”
“And then?”
“Do they have more than one car rental agency in Port Angeles? There’s no law against anybody renting more than one car, is there?”
“You’re saying he rented a second car in Port Angeles, then drove it down to Issaquah and back?”
“It’s possible.”
“You have a devious mind, James.”
“I try.”
“Okay. I think it’s time for me to head downtown, access the DMV registration system, and make a few calls to Port Angeles.”
CHAPTER 31
Jason Griffin sat on the other side of the desk in interrogation room number six. He had an earnest, serious expression on his face, like this was all just some terrible misunderstanding that could be quickly cleared up so he could be on his way. If Griffinair was in financial difficulty, it wasn’t evident from Jason’s choice of attorney. Rod Tarleton was an eight-hundred-dollar-an-hour defense lawyer who had expensive tastes and a reputation for pulling rabbits out of hats. Griffin had called him so quickly that Maclean had barely had time to read him his Miranda rights.
Maclean had a small Bluetooth earpiece that allowed her to hear Verraday, who was watching via a Skype link from behind the two-way mirror. Maclean would have liked to have him in the room. But if anybody had noticed his presence—and chances were good that in the interrogation rooms, either the chief, the homicide captain, Fowler, or one of his cronies would see him—the effect would have been explosive. This case was volatile enough as it was.
“Mr. Griffin,” said Maclean. “I’ve done a lot of research on you during the past day, and there are some things I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me before that you your father committed suicide?”
Jason looked at her gravely. “Because it’s still a very painful memory for me. It’s not exactly something that’s easy to talk about. Besides, it didn’t seem relevant.”
“Didn’t seem relevant? Doesn’t it seem odd that people who are close to you have a habit of committing suicide?”
“Detective, there’s no call to speak to my client that way,” said Tarleton. “He has suffered a great deal in the past year.”
“That’s okay,” said Jason. “She’s just trying to do her job.”
Then he turned to Maclean.
“Yes, it’s true that I’ve had more than my fair share of tragedy. First my father, then Cody. But my mother always taught me to believe in myself and in the value of hard work. So I’ll get through this, just like I got through the trouble with the family business.”
“Well, here’s another detail for you to consider. We’ve examined the coroner’s report regarding your father’s death. And I’ve gotten a second opinion. My ballistics expert thinks the coroner missed some important details. The powder burns and the angle of the bullet are right on the edge of what would have been impossible for anyone to do themselves without having had help. Bottom line is that it was sloppy work by the coroner. And by the killer, whoever that was. So we’ve reopened the case.”
“Are you suggesting that I killed my own father?” asked Jason.
Tarleton touched him lightly on the arm. “You don’t have to respond to this line of questioning, son.”