They watched the light rail car approach and the darkness of what Raveneau had described sank in more. She watched the rail car and a tourist taking photos with his phone. The car was light and clattered as it passed by. How do you protect a President from a determined group with weapons like these bombs? You couldn’t do it. It was nearly impossible.
FORTY-FOUR
That afternoon Coe showed Raveneau four computer-generated simulations of blast scenarios an Army bomb unit created for the FBI using the dimensions of the missing casings, the probable explosives type, and with close time-proximity detonation sequence. Four San Francisco street scenarios showed, ranging from a near open street configuration along the wider waterfront to a narrow street in Chinatown with buildings on either side capable of partial reflection of the blast waves. The merging waves would generate compression forces the Army calculated would kill in the hundreds and possibly thousands if detonated on crowded streets.
But that was actually good news because the bomb casings were shaped to direct the force of the blast and propel a slug of metal forward. Could they penetrate a Presidential limousine? They weren’t sure or if they knew they weren’t answering.
When Raveneau returned to the Cold Case office Ortega walked over from the main Homicide office to talk to him. He sat in la Rosa’s chair and summarized where the investigation stood with the cabinet shop shootings. Raveneau had heard the rumor and now he got it straight from Ortega.
‘The cab driver who killed Khan and his wife was located last night but no arrest is being made yet. He got ID’ed off prints and photo enhancement from video at the airport. His name is Cleg Mathis.’
‘Spell that.’
‘C–L-E-G, it’s as stupid as it sounds. He’s six foot four and two hundred thirty pounds according to his driver’s license, but he’s actually bigger. Black hair, black eyes, a black heart — he’s one of those weird ones. He moved here from New Jersey where his business was doing fine but he was getting too much attention. Here, take a look.’
Ortega showed him two photos.
‘He was suspected of doing work for the Russian mob and had to leave Jersey. The FBI already has a file on him. He’s known as a freak who likes to kill. He gets off on it. The garrote he used on Khan dug several inches into his throat.’
Ortega paused.
‘If this is a sophisticated group cleaning up behind itself and severing ties, how does a Mathis fit in? Here, take a look at these.’
The first shot was a photo of a finger lying on a tile floor.
‘Khan’s finger?’
‘You guessed correctly. You win the finger. Do you want to gamble the finger and try for something larger?’
‘Khan’s head was still attached, wasn’t it?’
‘Barely, that’s how strong Mathis is. The Feds say he lifted Khan right off his feet and on two previous hits he’s a suspect in the same thing happened. After a murder in New Jersey he walked into a restaurant with a bloody shirt on and ordered lunch. No shit, that’s in the Fed file. They think he likes the squirming, the struggle, the control, before he starts really sucking that wire in. Now would the bombers you picture have access to someone like Mathis? If they did, would they use him or would they hire someone a little more conventional? The roll-up the carpet behind them theory isn’t working for me. I can’t see them hiring a guy they must know is going to get arrested.’
‘When is he getting picked up?’
‘I don’t mean they know where he is now. He didn’t return to his apartment. But the Feds are looking for him much harder than they look for some people. I think they’ll catch up to him. They’ve got more and more agents involved, but your friend Coe isn’t saying much at the task force meetings any more. At yesterday’s meeting he didn’t say a word.’
Ortega was probably good in the meetings. He was focused. Raveneau asked now about DNA results that as far as he knew they were still waiting for.
‘Did you get anything back on the water cooler cups?’
‘Just got it yesterday and that’s part of why I’m here. One paper cup discarded near the water cooler had DNA that didn’t match Khan, Drury, or any of the victims.’
‘Did we test the paramedics?’
‘You know, we got swabs but good point, I didn’t see their names on the excluded. I’ll check that.’
A thirsty paramedic may have gotten a drink of water before leaving with the fourth victim. Raveneau doubted that, but it needed to be checked. A cardboard box for empties sat alongside the water cooler. It was full and three or four of the empties had fallen out and were on the floor. Having nothing they had to check everything and the white paper cups, particularly those on top were gathered up. Khan told them there were no visitors the morning of the shooting so Raveneau figured the cups on top were most likely the victims’, Khan’s, or Drury’s.
‘In the hits Mathis is suspected of was a gun ever used?’ Raveneau asked.
‘The Feds say yes, so it could be he came through the cabinet shop and they hired him to take out Khan and his wife as well. You’re the one who guessed the shooter took some pleasure in the killing. That fits with Mathis. What do you think?’
‘He’s big. How did he get in the building?’
Ortega had an answer for that. He’d been thinking about it.
‘Whoever the shooter was, Khan let them in early in the morning before the employees arrived. The shooter hid where no one would look and that’s how the tight window worked. He knew when Khan was leaving to measure the kitchen job and about the delivery and to listen for the forklift.’
‘Where do you hide a six foot four man in the shop?’
‘In that locked closet near Khan’s office. Khan locked him in there and then unlocked the door before he left. The employees knew they weren’t supposed to ever get in that cabinet. Khan told us that on the first interview. I think Mathis sat on the floor of the closet for five or six hours. But think about it, Ben. I want your opinion. I’ll check with you later.’
FORTY-FIVE
Raveneau rode with Goya in Goya’s old gray Toyota. They drove past Marlin Thames’s blue-painted Victorian on Twenty-Second Street, and then to a cafe in the Noe Valley where they took the lone outdoor table. Inside it was steamy and warm. Outside, the sun was out though probably just for a short while. The street was still wet from the last shower. A strong gust shook droplets from the awning, but it was going to be a lot easier to talk out here than in the crowded steamy interior. Raveneau went back in to get the sandwiches and coffee.
When he returned Goya was sitting at the table looking like a bespectacled Don Quixote and if Goya was having second thoughts about what he was accomplishing, so was Raveneau. But he still felt Goya’s presence mattered and Becker figured out a way to pay him something. He had to sign about a dozen waivers first.
‘I met Thames,’ Raveneau said. ‘Anyone would like him. The real estate deal was thirty some years ago and he settled with the IRS during one of their amnesty deals. He made a mistake and paid for it. He’s got his vintage furniture business and a life he likes and I’m sure it’s all legit, but in Hawaii Thomas Casey told me that Thames was there with Krueger in 1989. Thames told me they broke up in 1986 and saw little of each other after that. That’s too big a gap to be accidental. If Casey is telling the truth then there’s a good chance Thames is lying to us.’
‘Or maybe he’s just mixing up the years.’
‘He sounded confident about his dates.’
