That theory depended on one important element, though.
“Who called it in?”
“Zacharias,” Dillion said. “We don’t have a recording of it because he called the station here rather than 911, but the dispatcher identified his voice. His statement should be in there somewhere if you want to read it for yourself.”
Strange that he wouldn’t have called 911, knowing that he was likely bleeding out, but instinct must have kicked in. Or he could have thought his people would send help for him faster.
“The dispatcher was sure it was Zacharias?” Mark asked. “Not someone impersonating his voice?”
The tightness in Mark’s tone made me look up from flipping through the pages in search of the dispatcher’s statement.
The muscles around Dillion’s lips tightened. “Like I said, you can read it for yourself if you don’t trust me. He said the person who called in was definitely Zacharius. He recognized the voices of the officers he worked with even when they tried to trick him, so he was confident someone couldn’t have deceived him.”
A cold band tightened around my throat. I’d heard almost that exact explanation before from Henry when I asked him if someone could have been impersonating Troy.
“I need to see the file again,” Mark said.
I handed it over to him. He turned immediately back to the autopsy report.
The tightness in my throat made it hard to swallow. I’d assumed that the person behind the corruption cover up in Fair Haven had to be a police officer, but police officers weren’t the only ones with access to everything they would have needed to bribe, bully, and benefit from hiding criminal activity.
A dispatcher was the first one to learn about anything that was reported directly to the police. They could delay sending officers in order to give someone they were working with time to get away. They could approach people with an offer of protection in exchange for a cut. They’d know repeat offenders and who the police suspected, giving them an open pool of people to approach.
And anyone who did stumble upon the cover up would be less likely to suspect them. I hadn’t. I’d assumed that only the Fair Haven police officers could be involved. I’d overlooked entirely that Henry had also been here before Carl Wilson became chief.
Henry had seen Grady bringing us the file as well as Rigman. Grady might have even told him what he was doing, thinking Henry was safe.
Queasiness washed over me, and I rested my head on my arms on the edge of the desk. Bernice, the woman who cleaned Mark’s house, was Henry’s wife. She cleaned the police station, too. Because as a dispatcher’s wife, she was automatically trusted. Henry wouldn’t have needed to break in and risk leaving signs of forced entry at Mark’s house. He could have used Bernice’s key.
“Zacharius didn’t make that call,” Mark said. “He couldn’t have.”
I brought my head up. Mark had released some of the pictures and paperwork from the case file and had turned them around toward Dillion.
Mark pointed to the diagram that noted the deceased’s injuries, to a spot on the written report, and to one of the pictures. “The medical examiner’s report shows exactly what the bullet damaged as it passed through. Assuming the injuries were recorded correctly, Zacharius couldn’t have called in his own accident because he wouldn’t have been able to speak.”
24
Detective Dillion placed a call to the medical examiner who’d been brought in to temporarily replace Mark.
“We need confirmation,” he said.
While we waited for the medical examiner to arrive, I walked Dillion through the connections I’d made about Henry. Dillion brought the file across the table to himself and turned to the statement given by the dispatcher who took the call.
“Henry McCloud.” He kept staring at the paper like he couldn’t believe it. “It’s a good thing I’m not a gambling man. When you first started on about this file, I would have bet my house that you were blowing smoke up my a—”
A knock rattled the door.
Dillion rose to his feet. “That’ll be my second opinion. You two might as well head home and rest. If he confirms that Zacharius couldn’t have made that call, I’ll bring McCloud in for a little chat.”
Mark and I rose to our feet as well. If we’d been dealing with Chief McTavish, I would have angled to stay, and maybe even listen in, as they questioned Henry. But I got the impression that I shouldn’t push my luck with Dillion. “Will you give me a call as a courtesy? It’d be nice to know if you make an arrest so I can stop jumping every time a shadow moves.”
Dillion inclined his head just enough that I took it as agreement.
Given recent events, Isabel and I decided we’d both feel better if we camped out in my living room overnight with the dogs loose. I gave her the couch since she rarely had the luxury, and I took a sleeping bag on the floor.
I woke up the next morning to my cell phone ringing and Toby breathing his doggie breath in my face. At least he wasn’t snoring.
The caller ID on my phone listed the Fair Haven police department. I grabbed it up.
“We’ve arrested McCloud for the murder of Chief Zacharius,” Detective Dillion said. “Unfortunately, he’s not confessing to anything, and we don’t have enough evidence to charge him with the other crimes.”
I shifted position so Toby wasn’t breathing on me anymore and stroked his ear. He let out a happy groan.
I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask Dillion directly what this meant for Mark. Hopefully he’d understand what I meant. “So what happens next?”
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’ve won me over. I’ll call the district attorney and see what I can do about getting the charges against Cavanaugh dropped. I can’t make any promises. I made a convincing case the first time around, and the DA might still want to take it to trial.”
That’s exactly what I’d been afraid of. I thanked Detective Dillion, and he told me that he’d lift the suspension of the regular Fair Haven officers. He promised to call if anything else changed.
Once Elise was back on duty, I was sure I’d be receiving regular updates anyway.
Isabel stretched on the couch behind me. “Good news or bad?”
“A little of both.”
I caught her up on what Dillion had said. Last night, I’d told her what we’d figured out about the old case and who we suspected was behind it all. Normally I wouldn’t have shared so much with someone outside the police force or my law firm, but her choice to stay or go before my wedding depended on who’d run Mark and me off the road. We could safely say now that it hadn’t been Isabel’s husband.
