Under and Over Chapter 93
As Kate studies Susan Cheeseborough from Observation, the young woman looks nervous but not necessarily guilty. Still, looks can be deceiving. Kate's been fooled before, and in the absence of an update from CSU, everything points to Susan. Hugging her leather folder to her chest, Kate joins her potential suspect in the box.
"Before we start, do you need anything?" Kate asks. "Water or believe it or not, we have great coffee."
Susan fingers the edge of her Hudson U sweatshirt. "I'm fine."
"And I'm curious. Most of the time when I bring someone in for questioning, they demand to know why. They can get obnoxious or even violent. But you didn't even ask. You just came with me. Why?"
"Detective Beckett, my father's a cop. I grew up being taught that if a cop asks you to do something, you do it. And I was pretty much expecting someone to question me further. I'm guessing that Dad twisted a few arms to keep it from happening this long."
"I can't comment on that," Kate replies. "But if you were expecting to be questioned again, do you have information pertinent to the murder of Blueson Checker?"
"I can tell you that I didn't kill him and I don't know who did, but I have an idea why. That's why I was driving around up there. I was trying to figure out what I could do without making a bigger mess than there was already. But everything's gone to hell now."
Kate unzips her folder and pulls out a legal pad and a pen. "Susan, I need you to start at the beginning."
A hint of a smile touches Susan's lips. "That could take a while. The beginning was about 250 AD."
"Then try to keep your story to events leading directly to Checker's murder," Kate suggests.
"I'm an archaeology major, and I have an on-campus job cataloging and inventorying artifacts and making sure no one tampered with them."
"Why would anyone tamper with them?" Kate asks.
"To make them look older, younger, as if they came from a different tribe. Faking a discovery like that could lead to a prestigious paper and grant money," Susan explains. "Artifacts have a long history of misclassification. Very few people would assume fraud at a correction."
"But you would?" Kate questions.
"Again, cop's daughter. Still, I didn't discover anything until the last few months. We received a few things that supposedly came from a minor site of a major tribe. The government of Peru agreed to let them go because they were assumed to be of little archaeological significance. But when I examined them, I realized they were Zycot, a tribe that's my special interest. They came into this country with the wrong provenance. So I started wondering if any other Zycot artifacts were coming in and I did some research. I contacted a student I've been corresponding with in Peru. He told me he'd heard that someone in the government was pushing to allow certain artifacts to go to private collectors and private museums. A 20-year blockade hadn't officially fallen, but the artifacts were being shipped to the US, specifically to NY. So I started looking into where they were supposed to be going, and I came up with an address in Washington Heights."
"Blueson Checker's address?" Kate queries.
"That's right. But Detective, the reason I could get my hands on the information was that I wasn't the only one looking. Someone had dug it up and accessed it before me. The security was already broken."
"Do you know by whom?"
"I'm not that big of a computer genius. But I could guess. Artifacts have been used by smugglers for centuries. It could have been the modern-day version. Or it could have been one of the activist groups fighting to keep the artifact blockade in place."
"Do you know who those groups are?" Kate asks.
"It's no secret, Detective, at least not in the archaeology world. They have boards and chatrooms. I can give you the URLs. But I'm sorry, that's all I can do."
"There may be one more thing. If you know about Zycot artifacts, can you tell me if a shard of a ceramic could be strong enough to stab someone?" Kate asks.
"Detective Beckett, from what archaeologists have been able to figure out so far, the Zycots used ceramic blades to butcher their meat. And they used the same ceramics to make their pottery and idols," Susan explains. "So I'd suspect the answer would be yes."
Rick is checking out the qualifications of an online speed-reading instructor when Kate's caller ID flashes on his phone. "Hey! How was your interview with Susan Cheeseborough?"
"Her answers just left me with more questions."
"The history of human enlightenment in a nutshell. Can I help?"
"How are you at archaeology?"
"Not my biggest interest unless you're talking about the Indiana Jones kind. But I had to research it for some of Storm's adventures. I have a pretty good handle on the lingo."
"Great. If I send you the URL for a forum can you check it out and see if you pick up on anyone who might be fanatical enough to go after Checker for using Zycot artifacts to smuggle drugs?"
"Is that what Susan told you the killer did?" Rick questions.
"She aimed my suspicions in that direction, but it was the CSU report that clinched it. They found cocaine residue and traces of silica similar to what was in Checker's wound, in his hidey hole. A trail leads from Peru to Washington Heights and our killer's somewhere on it."
"Then I shall be immediately upon the hunt. And I've been looking into another aspect of your needs, but we can discuss that later. Are you going to make it for dinner?"
"I don't know. I'll see. I'm going to be keeping the boys busy too. We have a lot to look into."
"Well, don't strain your eyes too much. Whenever you make it, I have things to show you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Rick studies the entries in the Preservation of Peruvian Heritage Forum. Most of them are in Spanish. With the help of a translation algorithm, he can deal with that, more or less. He suspects he may miss some of the finer points and have to look up slang or idioms. But he'll manage. Still, he can start with the postings in English. Some of them appear to be from Peruvian immigrants to the US or their children or grandchildren. But others are from archaeologists furious that the stories told by the artifacts could be disturbed or obliterated. The trick will be in figuring out who, if anyone, is furious enough to shove a shard into Blueson Checker's body. That's not going to be easy.
"Esposito, how are you doing with the chat room?" Kate inquires.
"Some of the Spanish is weird, but there are some pissed-off people."
"Any of them pissed off enough to kill Checker?"
"More like kill someone in the Peruvian government. A lot of them think the artifacts wouldn't get out at all if some official wasn't getting rich off bribes."
"Cocaine smugglers could afford to pay bribes," Kate considers.
From the next desk, Ryan joins the conversation. "They could. I ran some figures on what some of those shipments could be worth. But they couldn't just stuff the powder inside a pot or a figurine. They'd need crates guaranteed against searches. That would mean more than one official in Peru and the US."
"But whoever killed Checker might just have known about the final stop," Kate proposes. "Let's concentrate on that."
In silent agreement, the men hunch back over their computers.