“So you talked your brother into taking out a life insurance policy to help your parents. But you and only you are the beneficiary. That’s still terrific motivation to kill him,” McKenna said. He turned to Chandler. “You want to ask him or do you want me to?”
Chandler looked at Fiske. “Your brother was killed by a nine-millimeter slug.”
“Really?”
“You own a nine-millimeter pistol, don’t you?”
Fiske looked at both men. “Been talking to the Virginia State Police?”
“Just answer the question,” McKenna said.
“Why answer it, if you already know the answer?”
“John — ” Chandler began.
“All right, yes. I own a nine-millimeter. SIG-Sauer P226, to be specific, with a fifteen-round mag.”
“Where is it?”
“In my office, back in Richmond.”
“We’d like to have it.”
“For ballistics?”
“Among other things.”
“Buford, this is a waste of time — ”
“Do we have your permission to go to your office and get the gun?”
“No.”
McKenna said, “Well, we’ll have a search warrant issued in about one hour.”
“You don’t need a warrant. I’ll give you the gun.”
McKenna looked stunned. “But I thought you just said — ”
“I don’t want them breaking into my office to get it. I know how cops can be sometimes. They’re not the most gentle souls, and it’d take me forever to get reimbursed on the cost of fixing my door.” Fiske looked at Chandler. “I assume I’m not part of the unofficial team anymore, but a couple of things: Did you talk to the guards on duty the night Wright was murdered, and have the video cameras been checked?”
“I would advise you to say nothing to him, Chandler,” McKenna said.
“Advice duly noted.” Chandler looked at Fiske. “For old times’ sake. We talked to the guards. Unless one of them’s lying, none of them gave Wright a lift home. One of them offered, but Wright declined.”
“What time was that?”
“About one-thirty A.M. or so. The film from the video cameras was checked and showed nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Did Wright give a reason for not wanting a ride home?”
“The guard said he just walked out the door and he didn’t see him after that.”
“Okay, let’s get back to the gun,” McKenna said. “I’m going with you to your office.”
“I’m not driving anywhere with you.”
“I meant I’ll follow you down.”
“Do whatever you want, but I want a uniformed Richmond police officer there, and I want him to take the gun into custody and then have it transferred to D.C. Homicide. I will not let you be anywhere near the chain of custody.”
“I really don’t like what you’re implying.”
“Fine, but that’s the way it’s going to be, or you can go get your warrant. It’s up to you.”
Chandler spoke up, “Okay, anybody in particular?”
“Officer William Hawkins. I trust him and so can you.”
“Done. I want you to leave right now, John. I’ll arrange things with Richmond.”
Fiske looked down the hallway. “Give me a half hour. I need to talk to somebody.”
Chandler put a hand on Fiske’s shoulder. “Okay, John, but if the Richmond police don’t have your gun in about three hours or so, then you got a big problem with yours truly, understood?”
Fiske hustled off to the garage in search of Sara.
A couple minutes later, Dellasandro joined Chandler and McKenna.
“I’d like to know what the hell is going on around here,” Dellasandro said angrily. “Two clerks murdered and now another fired over some missing appeal.”
McKenna shrugged. “Pretty complicated.”
“That’s real encouraging,” Dellasandro said.
“I’m not paid to be encouraging,” McKenna shot back.
“No, you’re paid to find out who’s doing this. And you too, Detective Chandler,” Dellasandro replied.
“And that’s what we’re doing,” Chandler snapped.
“Okay, okay,” Dellasandro said wearily. “Perkins filled me in earlier. You really think John Fiske killed his brother? I mean, okay, he had the motive, but, damn. Five hundred thousand sounds like a lot, but it’s really not these days.”
McKenna answered. “When you’ve got zip in your bank account, anything seems like a lot. He’s got the motive, he’s got no alibi, and in a few hours we’ll see if he has the murder weapon.”