CHAPTER
57
ROBIE DROVE NORTH into Prince George’s County, Maryland. Prince George’s was largely working- and middle-class, with cops, firefighters, and midlevel government types making their homes there. Its more affluent neighbor, Montgomery County, had more than its share of lawyers, bankers, and CEOs who lived in massive houses on relatively small plots of land.
Rick Wind had lived on a narrow street in a neighborhood where people parked their cars and trucks at the curb and filled their garages with things their small homes couldn’t contain.
There was a police presence here, though no crime scene tape was strung, for the simple fact that no crime had been committed here. Blue Man had had his people call ahead, and the officer on duty let Robie pass by after he showed his cred pack.
Since there might technically be usable evidence here, Robie put on latex gloves and shoe covers before entering the house. He passed through the front door and shut it behind him. He turned on the lights and gazed around. Wind’s pawnshop business had obviously not been doing that well. The furniture was old and shabby, the rugs stained and worn. The walls needed painting. The smells that hit Robie were all deep-fried foods. Wind hadn’t been here in a while to cook anything, so Robie assumed these aromas were buried deeply in the bones of the place, never to be eliminated until the house was knocked down.
There was a shelf against one wall. On it were a few books, mostly military thrillers, and a number of framed photographs. Robie picked them up one by one and saw Rick and Jane Wind and the couple’s two sons, only one of whom was still alive.
The family looked happy in the pictures and Robie let his thoughts wander for a moment and wondered what had caused the marriage to break down. He put down the last photo and kept moving. Affairs of the heart were beyond his expertise.
He worked his way from the main floor to the top floor. And found nothing.
He searched the basement and again struck out. All he found was damp and mold and boxes filled with junk.
He stepped outside and entered the single-car garage through the side door. He assumed the police had thoroughly searched inside here, as well as the house, but they might not have been looking for the right things.
As I if I know what I’m looking for either.
A half hour later he sat down in a lawn chair in the middle of the garage and gazed around. Staring back at him was a push mower, cardboard boxes, power tools, a workbench, a weed whacker, lawn and plant food, some sports equipment, and a combat helmet that Wind had obviously kept from his time in the Army.
Hanging from the helmet were Wind’s dog tags. Robie rose and picked them up, read off the information. It was not very useful to him. He set the helmet back down.
This had been a wasted trip. But at least he could check it off his list.
He looked at his watch. It was after eight now. He called Vance.
“Got time for some coffee?” asked Robie. “I’ll buy.”
“And what exactly do you want for that?”
“How do you know I want anything?”
“I’ve finally figured you out. Nothing comes before the mission for you.”
Maybe she does have me figured out.
He said, “Okay, how about the medical examiner’s report on Rick Wind?”
“Why do you want that?”
“It’s a piece of the investigation.”
He heard her sigh. “Where and when?”
He told her, making the location close by for her and not too distant for him.
Robie drove back south, crossing over the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, where he ran into rush-hour traffic, but did a decent job threading his way through it. Vance was already there when he arrived at the café on King Street in Old Town Alexandria.
He sat down and noted that she had ordered a coffee for him.
“I know how you like it,” she said, spooning some sugar into her cup. “From when you were at my place,” she added unnecessarily.
“Thanks. Do you have the report?”
She slid a file out of her bag and passed it to him. It was filled both with photos of Wind’s body from every angle and a detailed analysis of his physical condition and cause of death. Robie studied the pages while he drank his coffee.
Vance said, “You look like you’ve been up all night.”
“Not all night. Just most of it.”
“Don’t you need to sleep?”
“I get three solid hours a night just like everybody else.”
She snorted and sipped her coffee. “Find anything interesting?”
“Wind wasn’t in the greatest shape. Heart disease and a bad kidney, and report said his liver and lungs were suspect too.”
“He fought in the Middle East. You know all the crap they used over there? It can do stuff to you.”
“Can it?” asked Robie.
“My older brother fought in the First Gulf War. He died at forty-six. His brain looked like Swiss cheese.”
58
“YOU WANT TO follow me over?” Vance asked, rising from the table in the café.
Robie looked up at her. “I’ve got a meeting at DCIS I have to get to. Where are you going to be questioning the woman? WFO?”
“Yes.”
“I can hook up with you there later. What’s her name? What was she doing there? And why is she only coming forward now?”