'Were you in town that week?'
Hornstrom thought for a moment. 'Yes.'
Jessica slid a large manila envelope onto the table. For the moment she left it closed. 'Are you familiar with the Pustelnik Restaurant Supply Company?'
'Sure,' Hornstrom said. The color was starting to rise in his face. He leaned back slightly, putting a few extra inches between himself and Jessica. The first sign of defense.
'Well, it turns out they've had a theft problem there for quite some time,' Jessica said. She undid the clasp on the envelope. Hornstrom didn't seem able to take his eyes off it. 'A few months ago the owners installed surveillance cameras on all four sides of the building. Were you aware of that?'
Hornstrom shook his head. Jessica reached into the nine-by-twelve envelope, extracted a photograph, placed it on the scarred metal table.
'This is a still photograph taken from the surveillance tape,' she said. 'The camera was the one on the side facing the warehouse where Kristina Jakos was found. Your warehouse. It was taken the morning Kristina's body was discovered.'
Hornstrom glanced casually at the photograph. 'Okay.'
'Would you take a closer look at it, please?'
Hornstrom picked up the photograph, scrutinized it. He swallowed hard. 'I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to be looking for.' He put the photograph back down.
'Can you read the time stamp in the lower right-hand corner?' Jessica asked.
'Yes,' Hornstrom said. 'I see it. But I don't-'
'Can you see the automobile in the upper right-hand corner?'
Hornstrom squinted. 'Not really,' he said. Jessica could see the man's body language shift to an even more defensive posture. Arms crossed. Jaw muscles tightened. He began to tap his right foot. 'I mean I can see something. I guess it could be a car.'
'Maybe this will help,' Jessica said. She took out another photograph, this one an enlargement of the automobile. It showed the left side of the trunk and a partial license plate. The BMW logo was somewhat clear. David Hornstrom paled immediately.
'That's not my car.'
'That's the model you drive,' Jessica said. 'A black 525i.'
'You can't be sure of that.'
'Mr. Hornstrom, I spent three years in the Auto Unit. I can tell the difference between a 525i and a 530i in the dark.'
'Yeah, but there are lots of these on the road.'
'That's true,' Jessica said. 'But how many have that license plate?'
'To me it looks like HG. That's not necessarily HO.'
'Don't you think we ran every black BMW 525i in Pennsylvania looking for registered plates that might be similar?' The truth was, they hadn't. But David Hornstrom didn't have to know that.
'This… this doesn't mean anything,' Hornstrom said. 'Anyone with Photoshop could have done this.'
It was true. It would never stand up in court. The reason Jessica put it on the table was to rattle David Hornstrom. It was starting to work. On the other hand, he looked like a man about to ask for a lawyer. They needed to back off a little.
Byrne pulled out a chair, sat down. 'How about astronomy?' he asked. 'Are you into astronomy?'
The shift was abrupt. Hornstrom took a moment. 'I'm sorry?'
'Astronomy,' Byrne said. 'I noticed you had a telescope in your office.'
Hornstrom looked even more confused. Now what? 'My telescope? What about it?'
'I've always wanted to get one. What kind is yours?'
It was the type of question David Hornstrom could probably have answered while in a coma. But here, in the homicide unit interrogation room, it didn't seem to come to him. Finally: 'It's a Zhumell.'
'A good one?'
'Pretty good. Far from top-of-the-line, though.'
'What do you watch with it? The stars?'
'Sometimes.'
'Ever gaze at the moon, David?'
The first thin beads of sweat opened on Hornstrom's forehead. He was either just about to admit something or shut down completely. Byrne downshifted. He reached into his briefcase, pulled out an audiocassette.
'We have the 911 call, Mr. Hornstrom,' Byrne said. 'And by that I mean, specifically, the 911 call that alerted the authorities to the fact that there was a dead body behind the warehouse on Flat Rock Road.'
'Okay. But what does-'
'If we run some voice recognition tests on it, I have a distinct feeling it's going to match your voice.' This was also unlikely, but it always sounded good.
'That's crazy,' Hornstrom said.
'So, you're saying you did not place that call to 911 emergency?'
'No. I did not go back to the property, and I did not call 911.'
Byrne held the younger man's gaze for an uncomfortable amount of time. Eventually Hornstrom looked away. Byrne set the tape on the table. 'There's also some music on the 911 tape. Whoever placed that call forgot to turn off the music before they dialed. The music is faint, but it's there.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
Byrne reached over to the small boom box on the table, selected CD, hit PLAY. In a second, a song began to play. It was 'I Want You' by Savage Garden. Hornstrom looked up in immediate recognition. He jumped to his feet.
'You had no right to go into my car! That is a clear violation of my civil rights!'
'What do you mean?' Byrne asked.
'You had no search warrant! That is my property!'
Byrne stared at Hornstrom until the man saw the wisdom of sitting down. Byrne then reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a CD crystal case, and a small plastic bag from Coconuts Music. He also pulled out a receipt time-coded from one hour earlier. A receipt for Savage Garden's self-titled 1997 album.
'No one went into your car, Mr. Hornstrom,' Jessica said.
Hornstrom looked at the bag, the CD case, the receipt. And knew. He had been played.
'Now, here's a suggestion,' Jessica began. 'Take it or leave it. At this moment, you are an important witness in a homicide investigation. The dividing line between witness and suspect-even at the best of times-is a thin one. Once you cross that line your life changes forever. Even if you turn out not to be the guy we're looking for, your name, in certain circles, is forever connected to words like 'murder investigation,' 'suspect,' 'person of interest.' Do you hear what I'm saying?'
A deep breath. On the exhale: 'Yes.'
'Good,' Jessica said. 'So, here you are, in a police station, with a critical choice to make. You can answer our questions honestly and we will get to the bottom of things. Or you can choose to play a dangerous game. Once you get a lawyer, we're done, the DA's office takes over and, let's face it, they're not the most flexible people in town. They make us look downright friendly.'
The cards were dealt. Hornstrom appeared to weigh his options. 'I'll tell you whatever you want to know.'
Jessica held up the photograph of the car leaving the Manayunk parking lot. 'This is you, isn't it?'
'Yes.'
'You pulled into the parking lot that morning at approximately 7:07?'
'Yes.'
'You saw Kristina Jakos's body, and you left?'
'Yes.'
'Why didn't you call the police?'
'I… couldn't take the chance.'
'What chance? What are you talking about?'
