of the key?”
“It’s for a safe deposit box at Sun West Bank.”
“Tina’s bank? Do you think your wife can get us in?”
Jimmy shrugged. “What about the safe?”
He followed Jimmy’s finger. He had missed the false wall behind the desk chair where a safe had been hidden. “We’ll have to come back for that with Mark and have him open it.”
He was quiet and still for a long while.
“What are you thinking, partner?”
“We know a person was in the office and tried to find something. But we’re not sure if they found it. We just need to find out how many visitors there were and if one of them was looking for something besides the meeting with Grant, which may or may not have been real, depending on whether there is a Winston Coburn III.”
Jimmy replied, “That’s a bit complex.”
“Well, you better hold on to something, because it’s just beginning.”
Dale sat at his desk reviewing Grant’s bio while the database searched for a match to any of the fingerprints lifted from Grant’s private office.
Grant owned and operated the second largest and most profitable casino in Las Vegas, was sixty-three years old and married to his second wife. He had no criminal record and a clean bill of health. The man was a millionaire many times over and his wallet had been full of hundred-dollar bills, which means this wasn’t a petty theft gone bad. Grant didn’t owe anyone money and had no real rival except for Ace Sanders. Sanders and Linda were currently the only suspects. Other than Dale’s suspicions and the tread marks, they had no leads.
He could see a clear motive for Linda, but none for Sanders. Sure, the rumored affair with Grant’s wife, but Sanders didn’t seem to gain anything by killing Grant. Shawn Grant was ready to step up and run the Greek. And the word was that he was as tough and uncompromising as his father.
He rubbed his eyes and shut the file.
Jimmy waved a piece of paper in the air. “We’ve got him!” he said with a grin.
Dale pursed his lips. “What do we have?”
“We found three definite sets of prints. Of course Grant’s, but the system also identified Calvin Watters. Watters’ prints were on the doorknobs, the telephone in Grant’s office and the emergency exit alarm. We were able to match them because Watters was arrested a couple of times, more than three years ago, before he became Donald Pitt’s number one collector. That seems to confirm what the caller said about Watters using an alias to get into the building. Also, I called the ACPD.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“They have no record of any Winston Coburn III, II, or I and certainly not as the owner of any casinos there.” Jimmy tossed two papers on Dale’s desk.
“What about the other set?” Dale asked.
“The fingerprint we pulled off the poker chip belongs to Ace Sanders. His fingerprints were also in the office on the table next to the guest chair and the doorknob.”
“Sanders’ fingerprints are on file?” He was surprised.
“His fingerprints were required for municipal records when he bought his first casino, a small one called the Midas, years ago.” Jimmy said
At last there was a direct link between Sanders and Grant. If his fingerprints were fresh enough to be lifted, then he’d visited Grant not too long ago.
This opened the case up. In Dale’s mind, Sanders was now on the radar screen as an official suspect for Grant’s murder. That made three. Watters and Sanders now joined Linda Grant.
Jimmy’s voice rose in an excited pitch. “Who cares about Sanders? We have Watters. We have his fingerprints at Grant’s office and let’s face it, Calvin Watters is as lethal as they come.”
“Think about it, Jimmy. Watters’ fingerprints in Grant’s office are just too easy. If he’s committed what’s currently the perfect murder, why would he be so sloppy about leaving his fingerprints in Grant’s office? The real killer would have worn gloves.”
“Sanders didn’t.”
“No. But he had the justification of meeting with Grant as a rival casino owner.” He was about to continue when an officer called from across the room.
“Detectives, Grant’s car was just found parked at the deserted strip mall off the 592. We searched and dusted the front, back and trunk. The only prints pulled belonged to Grant and there wasn’t a trace of evidence inside or out.” The cop emphasized his last sentence as if he couldn’t believe it.
Dale could believe it though. With each passing second, this murderer seemed more efficient.
“The 592?” He turned to Jimmy. “That’s pretty far from where his body was found.” He faced the officer again. “What about the tread marks at the murder site? Do they match the tires on Grant’s car?”
“Forensics thinks they’ll match.”
“Let me know as soon as you get a final report.”
The officer nodded and left.
“What do you wanna do?” Jimmy asked.
“Run Watters’ social to get an address. How does he look in the arrest files?”
“About the same as when he was a football star, but that was almost four years ago. Not at all like the man that the security guards described to us or what we saw on the video.”
“He’s the only suspect we can move on now. So let’s act on the basis that the man who was arrested after he destroyed his football career is the same man who came to see Grant this morning. Get an address. I need to make a call.”
When Jimmy left, Dale checked the team list and dialed an outside line.
“Elliot,” the voice answered.
“It’s Dale. What have you and Harper found out?”
“Not much, sir.” His voice sounded frustrated. “Grant had a number of acquaintances but no one very close. The few good friends he did have don’t know of any enemies, except for Sanders. His name keeps coming up. Grant was well liked and respected. The friends that we talked to all have solid alibis.”
“What happened when you called his attorney?”
“We had a brief discussion with him. Grant had made an appointment to see him this morning, but the attorney wouldn’t say what the purpose of the meeting was.”
“Stop what you’re doing. I need you to stake out a possible suspect.”
As if on cue, Jimmy came into the office and dropped a paper on Dale’s desk.
He read the address over the phone. He told the officers to proceed as if Watters was armed and to check in on a regular basis.
Dale hung up. “Let’s go.” He jumped up and grabbed the coat from the back of his chair. “We’re going back to the office complex to check that safe. Call Mark and tell him we’ll pick him up on the way. And let’s keep Watters’ name out of the papers. We don’t want to scare him off. He’s our only fresh lead.”
“Lead? Dale, he’s our killer.”
Dale smiled at Jimmy. “Now who’s jumping to conclusions?”
Chapter 14
Late in the evening, Calvin took his car downtown for a bite to eat. He hadn’t felt this good, this free, in a long time. The prospect of starting a new life had put a jump in his stride. He parked at the curb, dropped coins in the meter and crossed the street to where a blind African American street vendor sat on a stool.
“Hey, Jarvis!”
The man smiled around his toothpick. “Hey, Calvin, how’s my football star?”
“Not shining,” he replied with a grin.
“Calvin, you been sayin’ that same thing for the past two years. Somethin’ good must be gonna happen to you soon.”
