The Tipsy Gull, page 28
part #1 of Danny Barbosa Series
Danny opened his mouth to answer when the lieutenant broke out laughing. “You did it, Barbosa. You lucked into solving another case.”
Danny grimaced. “I don’t about luck, Sir. Scott and I worked hard on that.”
Ben slapped him on the back. “Uh huh, and the girl you saved from Schilling fifteen years ago, just happens to be the serial killer you’re investigating.”
Danny smiled. “Okay, maybe a little luck involved.”
The Judge signed the court order to open the sealed records of the juvenile, Camille Leon. She had been placed in Foster Care after her mother had been killed. Five years later, she had been adopted by a dentist, Edward Tomaz and his wife, Louis. They had re-named the twelve-year old girl, Claire Tomaz. Her DOB was 5-17-95.
Danny called dispatch and requested a Driver’s license check for Claire. The CDL showed an address in Fresno, CA. and the dispatcher stated she would email him a copy of her license.
Five minutes later, Danny and Ben stared at the photo. The brown-haired, brown-eyed girl was unspectacular. She was listed at five-four and weighed one-hundred and eighteen pounds.
The University was contacted, and they obtained Claire’s address. Ben briefed Danny on their interview of her, including the cat food Sharon had found. He added that their search of the apartment came up with nothing.
“Maybe she has another location, like a storage shed?” Danny sighed. “Let’s do a drive-by.”
Ben nodded and the two of them headed toward Claire’s apartment complex. They parked a block away and Ben used field glasses. “I see the Subaru.” He handed Danny the binoculars.
“Yep, D.R.M.A.Q.N.5,” Danny said.
“That wasn’t there before. There was a white truck parked there, she said she let her neighbors use her stall because she didn’t drive.” Ben scratched his head.
“Maybe she got wind of you interviewing students from DeVries’ class and used the truck to get rid of any evidence.”
“That’s possible.” Ben nodded. “Is so, she might have brought stuff back. If not, CSI could match any cat hair in the apartment to the ones at the crime scene.”
“Let’s get a search warrant.” Danny raised his brow.
“I think so, but we’ll let the brass in on it first.” Ben suggested.
Danny, Ben, and Scott, at Danny’s insistence, sat around the conference room table. Chief Carver, Hawthorne, and Captain’s Sassano, and Williams were present, as were the other two Homicide detectives, Tiny and Davis.
Danny sipped his coffee and set the mug down. “The last couple of weeks, I’ve been assigned to Special Investigations with Detective Shelton. While conducting a follow-up on a theft at UC–”
“Cut the crap and get to the point,” Sassano said.
Danny gave a nod. “The San Diego Slayer, as the media refers to her is a young woman named Claire Tomaz. Scott, do you mind?”
“Yep, I’m on it.” Scott slid thick packets along the table.
Danny continued. “You all have a packet with photo copies of excerpts from Fresno PD’s reports on an Officer Involved Shooting I was involved in back in 2001...”
Danny spent the next hour explaining everything starting with the campus police citing a vehicle with the personalized plate of DRMAQN5, which was consistent with what Weddle had reported and Peterson’s last words, ‘The killer is a Doctor’. That vehicle was registered to Edward Tomaz, Claire’s adoptive father. He informed them about the theft report of the University props, which had allowed her to change her looks.
“What’s her tie in with the Batrachotoxin found in the last two victim’s blood.” Hawthorne asked.
Danny went over Claire’s education, namely the Bachelor of Science in Molecular Biology and the fact she was one of DeVries’ students. He added her current curriculum of obtaining Master of Fine Arts in Theatre and Dance with the costume design option.
Scott mentioned Schilling, the man who Camille had shot, had been listening to classical music; the same genre a couple of witnesses had reported hearing on the night of the murders.
Ben provided the edited photos of the Slayer’s victims where their similar facial features were more easily distinguished and the photo of George Schilling who had the same features. He also added that Claire was on his list of potential suspects in the theft of DeVries’ research and one of four persons that they’d planned a second interview with. He made a point to mention McKenzie’s findings about the cat food.
“So, there was more to her than just sleeping her way up it appears,” Sassano said.
“She had her moments, but with only three years of patrol experience.” Ben spread his hands out. “Well, let’s just say we all know it takes more seasoning at this level.”
Heads nodded.
“Okay, enough of that,” Carver barked. “Let’s move on.”
“Barbosa, most of this is circumstantial. How’d you linked Camille to our killer? Is there something more concrete that I’m not seeing?” Williams asked.
“Lieutenant, is it okay to reveal the note?”
Hawthorne nodded and Danny presented them with a copy of the Slayer’s note.
“How come I didn’t know about this?” Sassano asked.
“The public reports had redacted information that I authorized,” Chief Carver said.
Hawthorne added. “In the attempt to minimize any leaks to the media and to differentiate between any copy cats, just a handful of us knew about it.”
Sassano nodded.
Danny pointed out the similarities between the last two lines, and it became clearer the abuse victim, Camille Leon, had become The Chameleon.
Davis cracked her neck. “Most of this evidence is circumstantial. I don’t think there’s enough here for an arrest warrant.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Sassano looked around the room. “What do you guys suggest?”
“It’s enough for a search warrant.” Ben said. “Then hopefully CSI can find physical evidence tying Claire to the crime scenes.”
“I don’t care what you guys come up with, just nail this bitch. She’s caused this city enough grief.” Carver brought his fist down on his desk. “Davis, you and Hakai start the paperwork for a search warrant. Ben, contact SWAT. I want them to clear her apartment before we search it. We don’t need anyone else getting hurt.”
Hawthorne stood. “You heard the boss, let’s get on it guys.”
CHAPTER 35
The full-length mirror hung on the wall next to a coat closet. Claire stood in front of it, turning side to side. The turquoise, loose-fitting dress was the third outfit she’d tried on. “I know it’s just a dinner date, baby. But it’s my first since high school.”
Sassy meowed.
“No, it’s not like that. I’ll never replace you. Rudy likes animals, too.” She took a deep breath and looked down at her feline. “Look, you know I’ll screw this up anyway. It’s not like I’ll get a second date.”
You’re right, don’t even bother, Claire, said the voice in her head.
She bit her tongue to keep from answering out loud. Go away!
Claire slipped on a low cut, red, summer dress. Satisfied with the way it looked, she curled her hair. Then she plucked her eyebrows and applied red lipstick.
She set about to prepare Sassy’s dinner. “I’ll still have to kill him whenever I see him. I don’t know who he was, but it’s how I’m wired.” Claire put the food down and scratched Sassy behind the ears while the cat lapped at the food. “I can make Rudy fall in love with me and when I marry him, he’ll become my alibi. I know he’ll lie for me. I can kill forever, and they’ll never catch me.”
Sassy looked up and twitched her nose, then continued to eat.
Claire glanced at her watch. “You be good for Mommy. I won’t be home late.”
The day she had crossed paths with Detective Barbosa at Los Gatos, she’d made the decision to keep Monique close by. A bag packed with the darker skin make-up, black wig, and credentials—identifying her as a thirty-year-old from the south end of the city—were locked in her trunk. If ever forced to make a run, she’d be ready.
She paused one last time in the mirror. Maybe she didn’t have to be plain Jane all the time. She sprayed on the perfume that she had bought Naomi. I hope Rudy likes it!
Are you going to fuck him, Claire?
“That’s none of your business,” she said out loud and rubbed her temple. “Leave me alone.”
I’m just saying guys don’t care about perfume. They want to fuck. You should know that.
Claire’s eyes narrowed. “You better not interfere with my date.” She checked her watch, 5:50. Rudy would be by in ten minutes.
She headed out the door, stopped to grab the large purse out of her trunk, then continued toward the visitor parking lot where he would pick her up.
A dark blue Chevy Nova passed by with two white guys in it. Claire smiled and winked at the passenger as he checked her out. He had tats up his arm, long greasy hair and a scraggly beard, same as the driver. Looks like a drug addict, but he has pretty eyes. Claire put a little more sway in her walk and muttered to herself, “I think I’ll ditch plain Jane for good.”
Buy us some dope.
Claire resisted to urge to laugh and puckered her lips. She muttered. “I said to go away already.”
**
The driver of the Nova pulled into a vacant stall. The undercover cop in the passenger seat spoke into his mic. “Union-3. We’re in position. No sign of the suspect at this time, but the vehicle’s still in the stall.”
Through his attached ear piece, the dispatcher answered. “10-4, Union-3. SWAT’s ETA is twenty minutes. Remember you’re just there to observe. Don’t interact if you see the suspect.”
“10-4” The narc rolled his eyes. “She thinks we’re idiots, I guess. Anyway, SWAT will be here in 20.”
“Let me see her ID again,” the undercover driver said to his partner. He looked at the plain face on the enlarged driver’s license. “Man, she sure don’t look like a serial killer.”
The passenger looked in his side mirror.
“You still checking out the hottie in the red dress?” his partner asked.
“You know it bro,” the passenger said. “Now she has looks to kill.”
They exchanged a knuckle bump and refocused on Claire’s Subaru and apartment door.
**
Danny sat in the backseat with Scott. Ben drove. Hawthorne turned around from the front passenger seat. “We’ll let SWAT make entry and detain her. Then we’ll search the apartment. You got the warrant, Danny?”
“Got it.” He patted his shirt pocket.
Danny watched through binoculars. The SWAT van pulled into the lot and the Chevy Nova drove off. Six guys, dressed in camouflage, poured out of the van. Staying low, they ran toward the target apartment, three on each side of the entry point. The sergeant dropped his hand and one of the team members rushed the door with a battering ram. It smashed the door, and the team rushed in.
A couple minutes passed before the sergeant radioed in. “Lincoln-1. Negative on the suspect.”
“Damn it,” Danny muttered.
“10-4, we’re headed in,” Hawthorne radioed back, then turned to his detectives. “Shit. Let’s get this search under way before she comes back.”
Scott and Hawthorne stood outside with the SWAT team. Danny slipped on a pair of gloves and shoe covers, then followed Ben into the apartment. His stomach fluttered. What would they find? Ben went into the kitchen, and Danny slowly entered the living room. A Siamese cat cowered in a cat tree and hissed.
“I’ve got the cat here, a Siamese,” Danny’s voice trembled.
Ben joined him in the living room. “Yeah, it wasn’t here before, so hopefully, we’ll find more.”
Danny nodded and entered one of the bedrooms. A terrarium sat on an end table. He walked closer and glanced inside. A dart frog hid beneath one of the branches. Danny smiled. They had her. Two bins sat on the floor with screen lids clamped on. He peered down and saw bugs crawling in one. He recognized the Choresine beetles from his internet search.
“Partner, I got the shoe lifts and wigs in this bedroom,” Ben called out from the other room.”
“I’ve got a dart frog in here,” Danny answered. “Let’s get out of here.”
They joined Hawthorne outside and briefed him. He used his cell to update the chief before calling CSI to process the scene. Then he called Davis, who was waiting downtown, to get an arrest warrant signed by Judge Evans.
A web of undercover cars were dispatched to the area to stakeout the surrounding streets, should Claire arrive while CSI was inside. The detectives patted each other on the backs, their smile wide as can be. Danny squeezed his eyes close for a moment. The madness was over. Maybe he’d ask for some time off and take Tala on a little vacation.
***
In his office at home, Brian Ayala hung up the phone and crossed his arms. One of his buddies on the force had called him to tell him what was going on. He threw his hands in the air. That damn Barbosa had solved it. Carver had threatened to demote him for having an affair with McKenzie and pushing for her promotion. Ayala denied it and the two got into a shouting match, resulting in him getting a couple of days off. He had lied to his wife on why he got the days off.
“I hear Barbosa’s back on Homicide,” his wife said.
He hadn’t heard her come in to his study. He looked up. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”
“He disrespected me on live TV.” She put her hand on the doorway.
“What do you want me to do?” Ayala shot back. “I’m not the Chief. I don’t get the final say.”
“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” She came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders. “Give me something juicy to use.”
The words no sooner left her mouth, when Ayala smiled. Of course, why hadn’t he thought of that?
***
Stephanie Chang parked her personal vehicle down the street from Claire’s apartment. From her vantage point, she noticed detectives milling around one of the apartments. A few people gathered around watching the detectives before patrol officers pushed them further back from the area. She called her police liaison contact for CBS and he informed her that they’d been advised SWAT was serving an arrest warrant for a suspect from another city. She smiled. That would minimize the other network’s interest. Stephanie scanned the streets and recognized a couple of undercover cars. A few moments later, the CSI van pulled into the complex. Technicians unloaded equipment. If her husband, Brian, was right, this would be huge for her career. If he was wrong, she’d be fired. It was worth the risk. She phoned her cameraman who was standing by around the corner. “Let’s do it.”
With the camera rolling, she flashed a beautiful smile. “I’m Stephanie Chang with CBS news coming to you live. A reliable source has confirmed the police have identified the San Diego Slayer. Authorities have obtained an arrest warrant for Claire Tomaz. As you can see behind me, crime scene technicians are searching her apartment…”
The news spread faster than a record-breaking forty-yard dash.
***
Claire hopped into Rudy’s truck when he had pulled into the lot. He looked nice dressed in khakis and a buttoned-down shirt. She shad stifled a laugh—the price tag was sticking out the back of the collar.
The truck sped along the Interstate. Rudy glanced over. “You look beautiful.”
Her heart did summersaults. “You look nice too, Rudy.”
He smiled and she followed his gaze to her legs. “Is TGI Friday’s okay?”
“That sounds great.” She crossed her legs, hiking the dress up further, then reached over and put her hand on top of his, which rested on the gear shift.
When they arrived at the restaurant, the hostess seated them at a booth and advised them their server would be by soon. Claire glanced up at the TV in the corner where a college football game was being televised. The server approached and Rudy ordered Calamari for an appetizer along with two Coronas. They made small talk while waiting for their order to arrive.
When the server returned with their beer, Claire thanked him with a nod and looked at the TV. Scrolled across the bottom were the words: Special Report. San Diego Slayer identified as Claire Tomaz, a UCSD student. The split screen showed a photo of her school ID opposite a view of her apartment, where technicians were coming in and out.
Claire spewed out her beer in a cough.
“You okay,” Rudy asked.
She grabbed his hand. “Let’s get out of here. I just saw a giant cockroach crawl by, and I think I’m going to be sick.” Her heart pounded in her chest.
Another patron asked the waitress to turn the volume up. Rudy started to turn in that direction, and she tugged his arm. “Please, Rudy. Get me out of here.”
He nodded and let her pull him along. Claire wasn’t worried about anyone else recognizing her, since she was all made up, but it was game over if Rudy saw the screen.
It’s game over anyway, Claire. We had a nice run.
“Shut up, it’s not over!” she said as they exited the restaurant.
“What’s not over?” Rudy frowned. “I should go back in and report it to the manager.”
“No, it’s not their fault. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Do you want to eat somewhere else?”
“Not after that, I lost my appetite.” Claire climbed into the truck. How in the hell did they find me? It had to be Barbosa!
Rudy turned the ignition on. The radio started. “…police have released–”.
She whipped her hand out and hit the CD button. After some shuffling, the car was filled with a ballad by Julio Iglesias. That’s when it dawned on her and her lip quivered. Oh, Sassy, I’m so sorry.
Stay focused, Claire. I’ll take care of you.
