A few years earlier, the Arcane Crimes Database added DNA sampling to the fingerprint and criminal histories they kept on file. Problem was, it took time to collect and process DNA samples from all the Arcane criminals in the country. Mostly it had samples from crooks who were already in jail, which wasn’t so helpful because if they were behind bars, chances were good they weren’t guilty of current crimes.
“Shit,” Morales said.
Mez held up a hand. “Not so fast. As it happens, Prospero’s friend in CSI at BPD is a real peach. This morning, she faxed over her preliminary report from the crime scene.”
My eyebrows popped up. “Does Eldritch know about that?” I asked Gardner.
She shrugged. “Not our business.” Which meant, no.
“Anyway,” Mez continued, “according to her, there wasn’t enough physical evidence to support the theory that Marvin Brown was killed at Volos Towers.”
“His body was moved?” Morales asked, glancing at me.
“Wait,” I said, recalling the gruesome scene, “no way his head was bashed in elsewhere and moved.”
“According to Val, it happened postmortem.”
“Someone didn’t want the cops to have an easy time of identifying Mr. Brown,” Gardner concluded.
Mez nodded. “Unfortunately, the surveillance cameras weren’t much help. They show a black van arriving at 2:08 in front of the building. But soon after there’s a blackout in the footage.”
I sighed. “So whoever did this is organized and resourceful.”
“Not so fast,” Mez said with a smile. “Val sent over a few stills taken from the footage just before the cameras went dark.” He pulled them out of the file to pass around.
I looked at the first one he handed me. The van he mentioned was maybe twenty feet from the camera. There were no identifying marks on the vehicle and no license plate was visible. Likewise, the windows were too tinted to see inside. Next couple of images were the same. By the fourth, I was getting antsy that Mez was just fucking with us. But this one showed a person dressed in black from head to toe exit the driver’s side, which was closest to the camera. The suspect was slim in build, but tall—lanky. The only part of his skin that showed was the mouth and chin as he finished a cigarette. The next still showed him pulling down the mask and tossing the cigarette on the ground. Another figure was coming around the van, but he was wearing a mask, too.
I passed the last image to Morales, wondering what I was missing. Then it hit me. I snatched the picture back from Morales and spun around to Mez. “Tell me you got it.”
“What?” Morales asked, frowning.
Mez smiled at me. “Val had her team get it. She sent it to me because she knew I could rush the DNA.”
“Hello?” Shadi snapped. “Anyone want to fill the rest of us in?”
I turned and held up the picture. “This asshole was smoking a cigarette when he got out of the car.”
Morales’s eyebrows snapped up. “Guess they were right—smoking is bad for your health.”
I rolled my eyes. “Tell me you got a hit,” I said to Mez.
His face fell. “Not exactly. The DNA isn’t in the ACD.”
The mood in the room plummeted. “Oh ye of little faith,” Mez said. “I may not have the asshole’s DNA, but I have his number.” He held up an evidence bag containing the cigarette butt. The filter was gold and the body of the cigarette appeared to be covered in purple paper.
My stomach started doing jumping jacks. “Fuck. Me.”
“This, my friends,” Mez said, “is a Vice Royal cigarette.”
“Never heard of them,” Shadi said.
“They’re a specialty brand. Costly,” Gardner said. “Rare.”
“So we just need to track down people who smoke that brand,” Shadi said.
I knew only two people who smoked Vice Royals. One was locked away in Crowley Penitentiary. The other was—
“Don’t bother,” I said. “I already know who it is.”
“Well?” Gardner said. The other three turned to me with expectant expressions.
“Looks like Volos wasn’t lying.” For some reason that realization made me feel more relieved than it should have. “The only asshole on the streets I know who smokes that brand is Hieronymus Bane.”
Morales frowned at me. “The son of Ramses Bane?” At my nod, he whistled low. “Fuck me.”
“You’re sure?” Gardner asked.
“Sure enough to investigate, anyway.”
“There’s no way State Attorney Stone will give us a warrant based on a cigarette butt,” she said.
“We don’t need one for a routine traffic stop,” Morales said. “Maybe if we put a little pressure on the prick he’ll spill something his daddy doesn’t want us to know.”
“Guy like that has to have something in his car that would allow us to detain him long enough.” I nodded. “It could work. Thing is, Harry’s loyal to Bane, but there’s also bitterness there. He’s been angling to start his own crew for years, but Bane won’t allow it. We could maybe play on that.”
“Right,” Gardner said. “Play that up with him. Tell him we’ve got enough evidence to put him away unless he gives us something solid on Daddy Dearest.”
“We’ll have to be careful, though. If he asks to lawyer up, we’re toast.”
“Do it,” Gardner said. “Shadi, I want you to pull everything you can find on Hieronymus and Ramses Bane. Maybe once word gets to Bane that we’re targeting his kid, it’ll rattle his cage enough to make a mistake.”
“What about me?” Mez asked.
“You call the CSI lady and tell her you couldn’t find DNA on the cigarette. Don’t tell her we’re targeting Bane’s kid. We don’t need Eldritch interfering until we have what we need.”
“Sir,” I said, “are you sure? If we’re right here, this information could make their murder investigation.”
“Fuck ’em,” Morales said. “If the tables were turned Eldritch wouldn’t give us the lead. In fact, he’s probably off giving the mayor a hummer as we speak.”
Gardner sighed but nodded. “He’s right. Keep it tight until we have what we need.”
I clenched my jaw. Part of me wanted to call them out for perpetuating the bullshit politics. On the other hand, the prospect of blowing this case wide open without Eldritch’s interference appealed to my competitive nature. So I kept my mouth shut. I just hoped that when the dust of this case cleared and Eldritch found out what we’d done, I’d have already secured my spot on the task force for good.