Or he’d been smart enough to stake out the places well ahead of time. “Where were the victims found the day after?”
“All in City of Atlanta parks located inside DeKalb County.”
He should’ve led with that, which was what was called a modus operandi by people who knew how to do their jobs. “Were all of the parks within walking distance of Andrew’s house?”
“All but one,” Reggie hedged. “But there’s tons of people who live within walking distance of those places. Atlanta’s full of parks. Three hundred thirty-eight, to be exact. City parks and rec maintains two hundred forty-eight. The rest are taken care of by volunteer organizations.”
She didn’t need his Wikipedia recitation. “What about cell phone records?”
“Nothing.” Reggie looked circumspect. “But I told you, Andrew never has his phone on him.”
Leigh felt her eyes narrow. “Does he have a separate work phone and personal phone?”
“Just the one. Dude’s that guy who says he doesn’t want to be connected all the time, but then he’s always borrowing my phone when we’re out.”
“Andrew was driving a Mercedes that he took from the lot on the night he met Karlsen,” Leigh said. “I remember reading about a Big Brother lawsuit in the UK over tracking devices?”
“They have it here, too. It’s called Mercedes me, but you’ve got to set up an account and agree to the terms before it’s activated. At least that’s what the Germans will tell you.”
Leigh was seven days from trial. She didn’t have time to knock on that door. She could only hope that the prosecutor felt the same. One positive for Andrew was that December’s astronomical Covid deaths and January’s attempted political coup had put trans-Atlantic goodwill on hold.
She asked, “What else do you have?”
Reggie closed the traffic cam video and started typing and clicking. Leigh saw six folders: LNC_MAP, CRIME SCENE PHOTOS, VICTIM PHOTOS, CHARGING SHEET, SUPPORTING DOCS.
He opened VICTIM PHOTOS.
“Here’s Karlsen. She woke up under a picnic table. Like I said, no memory of what happened but she knew shit got real the night before.”
Leigh flinched when the photo loaded. The woman’s face was barely recognizable. She had been beaten to a pulp. Her left cheekbone was out of place. Her nose was broken. Bruises ringed her neck. Red and black splotches peppered her chest and arms.
Aggravated assault.
Reggie clicked open the folder labeled LNC_MAP. “Here’s a sketch of Little Nancy Creek Park. Closed eleven p.m. to six a.m. No lights. No cameras. You can see the pavilion here. That’s where Karlsen was found by a dog walker the next morning.”
Leigh concentrated on the map. A one-and-a-half-mile jogging trail. Wood and steel bridge. Community garden. Playground. Open-air pavilion.
Reggie opened CRIME SCENE PHOTOS and clicked on a series of JPEGs. Numbered yellow markers indicated evidence. Blood splotches trailing down the stairs. Shoe print in the mud. A Coke bottle resting in a patch of grass.
Leigh moved to the edge of her seat. “That’s a glass Coke bottle.”
Reggie said, “They still make them here, but this one comes from Mexico. They use real cane sugar down there, not high-fructose corn syrup. You can really taste the difference. First time I ever had one was when I was getting my Merc serviced at Tenant. They stock it behind the bar in the service center. Apparently, Andrew insists on it.”
Leigh looked him in the eye for the first time since she’d entered the office. “How far does Andrew live from the park?”
“One-point-nine miles by car, less if you cut through the country club.”
Leigh directed her attention back to the map. She would need to walk the terrain herself. “Has Andrew been to the park before?”
“Guy’s a nature lover, apparently. Likes to look at butterflies.” Reggie smiled, but she could tell he knew this was bad. “Fingerprints are like urine, right? There’s no time or date stamp. You can’t prove when the Coke bottle was left in the park, or when Andrew touched it. The real perp could’ve been wearing gloves.”
Leigh ignored the tip. “What about the shoe print in the mud?”
“What about it?” he asked. “They say there’s a possible match to a pair of Nikes they found in Andrew’s closet, but possible ain’t enough to pull them over the finish line.”
Leigh was tired of Reggie controlling the pace of the story. She reached for the laptop and clicked through the photos herself. The prosecutor’s case came into sharp relief. She gave Reggie a lesson on getting to the point.