“Yeah, that looked promising at first,” he said. “An old lady runs it and tries to keep it clean. She recognized Lois’s name for sure. She showed us where she stayed a few nights, all within two weeks or so of that Thursday night. But no ID, no personal effects left behind. We can’t even find a photo of her from when she was alive.”
“And the planner you found on her?” Mimi asked, still scanning the reports.
“Some receipts,” Zochi said. “Too faded or water damaged to read. There were a few handwritten notes, like we talked about. That got us to Joe DeSantos, but I don’t see anything that helps otherwise.”
“Cameras?” Mimi asked. That was often the last question. When all else failed, she turned to video. It was everywhere.
“Shit, yeah,” Len said. “We sat through hours of stuff. There are cameras from the projects on Twenty-Seventh that cover the boardwalk, and one street camera that looks out on the steps near where they found her. We saw footage of Wilomena going down there, but nothing much before that other than a couple walking along the boardwalk and different groups of kids from time to time. Almost no one went on, or came off, the beach after dark from that area, though. It’s weird, because it’s summer, but it was just dead out there.”
“She must have walked onto the beach somewhere else,” Zochi said. “But there’s no telling which way she came from. I looked for prints in the sand, even, but the water was coming up. Didn’t see anything.”
“Okay,” Mimi said. “You’re right; it looks bleak so far. Hopefully there’s foreign DNA on the body, or the bra.”
“OCME’s got both, along with the rest of her clothing,” Zochi said. “We’ll see.”
“Anything else on the brothers?” Mimi asked. “The one you found, Joe DeSantos, is at the attorney general’s office, down by Wall Street.”
“We should find out how long he’s been there,” Zochi said. “He plays it off well, but the guy has a drinking problem.”
“How bad was he when you found him?”
“Functional,” she said. “But that’s kinda the point. Guys like him have a lot of practice playing it sober. You can almost see the effort.”
“She’s right,” Len said. “He put on a decent show, but that probably means he’s a professional at it.”
“Well, he’s been at the AG’s office for about two years,” Mimi said, narrowing her eyes on a page from her own notes. “He was part of a law firm for a little while, but the partners split up three or four years ago. I don’t know much about the other brother, Robert. He lives in Staten Island. You all should probably follow up. I’ll reach out to Joe and see if I can get him in today. Can one of you come back for that?”
“Overtime,” Len said, smiling. “I’m all yours.”
CHAPTER 16
Office of the Attorney General, Sex Offender Management Bureau Lower Manhattan
11:15 a.m.
“You heard, right?” Craig asked when Joe picked up the phone. Joe had been sitting at his desk, twirling the detective’s business card in his hand and vaguely fretting. For a horrified moment, he wasn’t sure if Craig was talking about the discovery of Lois’s body on the beach.
“Heard what?”
“You did it!” Craig exclaimed.
Joe jumped in his skin. God, stop! “Oh, you mean Aaron Hathorne?” Relief flooded him like a drug.
“Of course I mean Aaron Hathorne! The son of a bitch stays confined for another year. I figured the judge’s chambers had called you by now. The decision came down this morning. Nice work, Joe.”
“Thanks,” Joe said. He smiled, grateful for the diversion. In any event, a compliment from Craig always got to him. “He refused to do his treatment homework all year, so really he did it to himself.”
“Whatever. You kept him in there. That’s big. If he’d been released after just twelve months, he would have declared victory, and the program would look shaky. This shows that the judges are still taking it seriously. Guys like him can’t just dick around in sex offender treatment and walk away.”
“Treatment isn’t doing a thing for him. You know that. They mean well up there, but they’re not getting to him.”
“Of course I know,” Craig said, as if this was not only obvious but also a little funny. “Whatever. They’re trying to treat him. He needs to try to be treated. Otherwise, fuck him. He can spend the rest of his life in a hospital. It’s a resort compared to what he deserves.”