CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
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Fiske was standing outside his brother’s office while Chandler was overseeing the progress of his evidence-collection team under close supervision of the Court’s staff counsel. However, with now two dead clerks, concerns over confidentiality had taken a back seat to finding the killer or killers. When they finished with Michael Fiske’s office, they would go down the hallway and start on Steven Wright’s.
Fiske looked over at his brother’s office door and then back at Wright’s. He did so a couple more times as an idea began to percolate through his head. He went over to Chandler.
“Exactly where was Wright’s body found?”
Chandler flipped open his notebook and started looking through his notes. “By the way, I got your car out of impound. It’s at my office in a nice, legal parking space.”
“Thanks for doing that for me.”
“Don’t thank me. With the tow and fine and all, it’s gonna cost you about two hundred bucks.”
“Two hundred bucks? I don’t have that kind of money for a lousy parking ticket.”
“Is that right? Well, maybe I can pull a few strings, you know, do you a favor. But you’ll have to work it off. I got some painting that needs to be done at my house.” Chandler cracked a smile and then stopped leafing through his notes. “Okay, here we are. Wright lived about a block from the Eastern Market metro station. His body was found in Garfield Park. That’s at F and Second Streets. It’s about a half dozen blocks from the Court.”
“How did Wright usually get to and from work?”
“According to several people here, he either walked, took a cab or occasionally the metro.”
“Was this Garfield Park on his way home?”
Chandler tilted his head as he studied his notes. “Not really. Normally he would’ve hung a left from Second onto E to go home. He wouldn’t have continued on down to the park.”
“Did he have a dog or anything? Maybe he went home and then took it for a walk in the park.”
“He did have a dog, but he hadn’t been home. At least we don’t think he had. And if he was going to walk his dog, Marion Park is a lot closer to his home.”
“That is strange.”
Chandler’s eyes narrowed as he thought of something.
“But Marion Park has something that Garfield doesn’t.”
“What’s that?”
“A police substation right across the street.”
“Whoever killed him might have known that.”
“The substation’s not exactly a big secret. We want our presence known there as a deterrent to crime.”
“Does it look like he was killed at the park, or maybe somewhere else and dumped there?”
“The grass had blood on it. No shell casings — that we found yet, anyway. Shooter probably would’ve used a silencer, unless it was some random robbery. A silencer on a revolver is too tricky. If he used a semiautomatic, then we should find a shell casing unless it was picked up.”
“Bullet still in the body?”
Chandler nodded. “Hope we lay our hands on a gun to match it against.”
“Considering what happened at Mike’s apartment, you should probably have someone posted at Wright’s.”
“Gee, now, why didn’t I think of that.”
“Sorry. Any idea when Wright left the Court last night?”
“We’re still checking on that. After regular hours there’s only one door open for entering and exiting. That door is constantly guarded and it closes up at 2 A.M. After that you need a guard to let you out. You can leave via the garage too, but it’s also secured. However, Wright didn’t drive, so the garage is irrelevant.”
“Then someone must have seen him leave.”
“My people are checking with the guards on duty last night.”
“Doesn’t this place have surveillance cameras?”
“You mean in the courtroom?” Chandler asked with a smile. “The answer is yes, but not everywhere and unfortunately not along this part of the hallway. But we’re checking the tapes right now to see if there’s anything relevant on them.” Chandler scanned his notes once more. “At that time of night, really the only activity on this floor would have been a clerk working late.”