“He’s shaken up, but he seems okay to me. Less spaced out than most people who went through what he just went through.”
“So you think that Bolds—the dead guy in the elevator—killed the homeless guy, then attacked Porter, right?” Zochi was trying to keep it all straight. “That’s what I’m going on, so far.”
“Pretty much.” Letty glanced at her notes. “It looks like the homeless guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of the landlord’s thugs let him in. We’ve seen it before at that building. Homicide guys are looking at video from the street and talking to the landlord’s man about that. It depends on where the street cameras were placed, but we might be able to see when the homeless guy and Bolds entered. No cameras in the lobby, though, so we can’t see what happened inside.”
“One of the sergeants mentioned the ‘placement’ of the homeless guy,” Zochi said, putting air quotes around “placement.” “My understanding is that Porter found him first, on the way into the building. Tried to get him to leave, got some noise. Went up to get something to wave at the guy.”
“Exactly,” Letty said, nodding. “But when Porter got back downstairs, if what he says is true, the homeless guy was already dead. Head wrenched back. A second or so later he encountered the attacker—Evan Bolds.”
“Right,” Zochi said, picturing it. “Brief struggle, then down goes Bolds.”
“You should have seen him,” Letty said. The original grimace was back. “Bolds, I mean.”
“Yeah, I heard that too.” Zochi made a corkscrew-turning motion with her right hand. “And the head-wrenching thing with the homeless guy—is that really what it looked like? That’s important for my case.”
“That’s what it looked like, yeah. Back to Bolds for a second. He was what—a probationer for your suspect, DeSantos?”
“No, DeSantos is a lawyer. He was at the AG’s office. Bolds was his case, one of those sex offender civil commitment things. DeSantos’s mother turned up dead, then his ex-girlfriend a few days after. The DA authorized an arrest after DNA came back a match.”
“That’s why I called you,” Letty said. “Those two women out in Brooklyn. I heard about those cases. You’ve got a DNA match for both bodies, though, right?”
“I do, but I haven’t put it all together yet. If nothing else, this feels like a box I should check off. Maybe this guy Porter can shed some light.”
“And this homeless guy,” Letty said. “Just a troublemaker? Any idea what he has to do with all this?”
Zochi sighed. “No idea, but the head-wrenching MO in that death matches the ones in my cases, so . . .”
“Overtime,” Letty said with a shrug. “He’s in an interview room. Get a refill, and I’ll take you to him.”
“Thanks,” Zochi said. “So Evan Bolds—you know why he went to prison in the first place, right?”
“I don’t.”
“He nearly beat a woman to death in an elevator. He raped her first, then chased her into the elevator and—bam! Just went crazy on her. Did, like, twenty-five years for it. My suspect, DeSantos, brought a civil commitment case a few months ago because his probation was almost up.”
Letty stopped and looked at her. “No way. The guy I just found at the bottom of an elevator shaft?”
“Screwed to the bottom,” Zochi said, and winked. Letty grinned.
“Classic.”
CHAPTER 63
3:39 a.m.
“Hi, Mr. Porter,” Zochi said, “I talked to Detective Clark, and I understand you’ve been up most of the night already. I appreciate you waiting around for me.” Nate looked at her and smiled, his long, slender fingers wrapped around a coffee mug. His eyes looked raw and red rimmed but alert.
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t be sleeping anyway. I don’t think I’ll sleep well for a while.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can be,” she said, sitting down and taking out a notepad. “This could be relevant, though, so again, I’m thankful for you waiting up. The reason I’m here is because I’m investigating another case, out in Brooklyn. I have a few questions, probably not more.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Does the name Evan Bolds mean anything to you?” She stated the name slowly and clearly. No one had told Porter that Bolds was the guy corkscrewed down there.
“Evan Bolds?” He seemed to ponder it. “No.”