DWELLING IN THE PAST

Chapter 10

While Frank took Bates into holding, Horatio and Eric searched his property. It was moderately tidy, no evidence of bachelor parties, drugs or excess alcohol. Horatio surmised that the man was, as he had first thought, a loner. His first target was the top-of-the-range laptop, which he would take back to Dave Benton. He had no doubt that anything incriminating had been erased, but suspected his own expert might have ways and means to uncover it. It rather depended whose computer skills were greatest – Ed Bates or Dave Benton.

The next point of interest was the gun cabinet, hidden in a closet in the bedroom. It contained two Remington rifles, two scopes, and a box of ammunition. No Kimber – he didn't expect there to be.

"Bag it all," Horatio instructed Eric. "See if Calleigh can make anything of it. Now… where would you hide your expensive rifle?"

They searched the house from top to bottom. It wasn't large, so hiding places were limited. Eric even emptied a large chest freezer, but uncovered only jumbo packs of burgers, sausages and fries, and frosted-up, rock-hard packages of god-knew-what. Nothing remotely like a rifle. He tipped everything back in and warmed his frozen hands under his armpits.

Horatio chuckled. "Nothing?"

"No. Damn – I was sure it would be in there. Perhaps he's given it to a friend for safe-keeping."

"Maybe. I don't think it's here. Right, I want any paperwork – bank statements, bills, everything. Don't bother looking at it individually – we'll take it all back and study it at the lab."

As they drove back, Eric seemed disheartened. "I wish we'd found that rifle."

Horatio sounded more buoyant. "We've got plenty to work on."

"You still sure he's the shooter?"

"I am. He's guilty as hell. Trouble is, we can't hold him that long without arresting him. I suspect everything's on that computer… or was…"

"Dave'll find it."

"You know Ed Bates is in computers too…"

"Dave's the best," Eric said confidently.

"You know what really worries me?" Horatio said. "I'm sure we can nail Bates as the shooter, but I'm equally sure he was hired, and I haven't got a clue who by or why."

"Perhaps the Tampa team will bring you something."

"Let's hope so."

As they walked into the lab, Frank met them. "Your boy's lawyered up," he said. "And he really wants to be let out."

"I'll bet he does. I need as much time as possible, Frank."

"Oh, I'm not concerned yet. Judge Farina's being very accommodating. Did you get anything?"

"Not the weapon. But loads to go through… I'll go and see who wants overtime…"

While Dave Benton worked on the computer, and Calleigh on the weapons, Horatio and Eric took the bag of papers into the layout room and tipped them out on the table.

"He didn't believe in filing," Eric muttered, pulling a bundle towards him. "There's years of stuff here."

"Bank statements and credit card bills, you can stay with recent – we're only looking for unusually large deposits. General stuff – into date order, I suppose."

They had been working for over an hour when Calleigh came to find them. "Neither of the Remingtons has been fired recently. In fact, the older one doesn't fire at all. The ammo's interesting. It matches the type used on the Matthews family. And I don't think we've got the gun that fired it."

Horatio nodded. "Thanks, Cal." He glanced at his watch. "You go home – fresh start tomorrow." He looked at Eric. "More circumstantial evidence… Go and see how Dave's getting on. See if he's willing to stay on a bit."

When he came back, Eric reported that Dave Benton was 'throwing every piece of software he had' at the target computer, so far without success. "He says the guy's good, but he hasn't given up and, yes, he's happy to stay on." He sat down again.

He had barely started again before he said softly, "Bingo!"

Horatio looked up. "What?"

Eric pushed a piece of paper across to him. It was a receipt, some two years old, for a Kimber Longmaster Classic Rifle.

Horatio grinned. "Got him!"

"Still circumstantial, without the gun itself."

"But enough for an arrest, I reckon. And another interview."

Dave Benton looked up as his boss came in. "Boss…"

"Anything?"

"Sort of. I've found an email account that's been deleted – it's not the one he uses regularly. It was created about two months ago, and deleted a few days ago. I've even found the contents, but it's encrypted somehow. He was ultra-cautious… All I've decoded from it is a name, 'Miami Fixer'."

"What is that? A company?"

"Not that Google knows. I'll keep on at it. I feel I'm getting really close."

"I think maybe we should leave it till tomorrow… We've got enough to hold our guy for now, so the immediate urgency is off."

"Okay, boss, whatever you say. I don't mind going on…"

"I know, and I appreciate it."

"Oh, H, I almost forgot. I found a pic for you." He handed him a printout of a fairly mediocre photograph. Of Ed Bates, his foot on a presumably dead wild boar, and a rifle on his shoulder. The caption read 'Awesome!'

Horatio drove into work that Wednesday feeling, or maybe just hoping, that the day would be a case-breaker. His first port of call was to PD, and Frank.

"Arrest him, Frank. Suspicion of first degree murder, et cetera."

"You've got enough?"

Horatio shrugged. "Still only circumstantial, although masses of it. I'm relying on him giving me something… Can we interview this afternoon?"

"Look forward to it."

He called Ryan and Natalia into his office. "How was Tampa?"

"Raining," Ryan replied. "Not that we've been outside…"

"So – tell me what you looked at and anything you found."

Natalia began. "We looked at the wife's accident. It was just that, I think. A fifteen-year old youth was charged with negligent homicide. We looked at police records for the husband. He was less squeaky-clean back then…"

Horatio raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing very major," Ryan put in. "A couple of assaults – he obviously had a temper. We found much more at the local newspaper."

Natalia continued. "There was a bit of a scandal about him building houses on an old landfill – this is about two years before he left Tampa. There was nothing hinky about the building as such, but the new residents started complaining that there was still methane leaking from the ground."

"That could be checked by building regulators, couldn't it?" Horatio said.

"It was given a clean bill of health, but all sorts of rumors went round – that the regulators were paid off by Matthews, that he knew the site was unsafe, and so on. No charges were ever brought… But a couple of the residents wouldn't let it go."

Horatio listened intently as Ryan took up the story. "They tried to get lawyers involved, but failed. As far as we could see, there was no proof about the methane anyway. One house had a serious fire – but it wasn't proved that methane was involved. The story just about fizzled out."

"What about the two residents who were unhappy?"

"We didn't have time to find them. One seems to have moved. The other – a Mr Arthur Feldman - is more interesting. He writes letters – to the paper, to the city, to anyone he can think of… He was writing weekly…"

"Obsessed," Horatio murmured.

"It gets worse," Natalia added. "His wife and son died… asphyxia."

"We went back to the police to look at this. They were getting a bit fed up with us by then." Ryan chuckled. "They did investigate, but it was ruled an accident – a faulty boiler – carbon monoxide, not methane."

"But he still blamed the old landfill site?" Horatio said.

"Hard to say, but presumably - the newspaper had stopped printing his letters, because they were getting more and more manic. And libellous. But either Troy Matthews was fed up with it, or it affected his business… We didn't have time to investigate. But then his wife was killed, he wound up his business, and moved to Miami."

"And that's it?"

"Almost," Natalia said. "About six weeks ago, the same newspaper ran a small piece on Matthews – a sort of 'Blast from the Past'. They reported him happy and successful and with a new wife and daughter, living in Miami."

"And you really think this pushed Mr Feldman over the edge?" Horatio's scepticism showed.

"We don't know. It was all we found."

"I'm not criticising – you've done well in the time I gave you. It just sounds unlikely."

"That's what I thought, until the newspaper dug out his last letter – from five weeks ago." Ryan handed a photocopied sheet to his boss.

Horatio read it. "Oh… I see what you mean…"

TBC