Page 83 of Den of Iniquity

“Years before Constance’s father met and married her mother, he lived in Cincinnati, Ohio, under his birth name of William Landon. While there, he was involved as the inside man in a Brinks armored car robbery. That happened in 1956. He left his coconspirators to take the heat, while he grabbed the money and ran. He settled in Butte, Montana, where, using the identity of his deceased older brother, Frank, he went to work in the copper mines. That’s where he met and married Constance’s mother. It’s also where he was killed—in Butte. After his death, Constance and her mother moved to Seattle where they bought a house in the Northgate area without needing a mortgage.”

“Purchased with money from the armored car robbery maybe?” Sandy asked.

“That’s my guess, but not all of it by any means. Supposedly Landon got away with a cool four hundred thousand dollars.”

“Unbelievable,” Sandy muttered. “And all this background information came from where?”

“From a woman named Harriet Bonham who lives in Lexington, Kentucky. She had entered her DNA into GEDmatch in hopes of tracking down her mother’s favorite cousin, someone she called the ‘black sheep of her family.’ I work with a volunteer cold case squad called The Last Chance. Our DNA expert ran the profile obtained from the Liberty Lake homicide through GEDmatch and got a hit.”

“Do you happen to have Constance’s address?” Sandy asked.

“I certainly do.”

As I read off the address of the derelict house on Evanston, Sandy ditched her pen and notebook in favor of her computer keyboard.

“No known police activity reported at that address,” she said a moment later.

“No surprises there,” I said. “She lives alone in an accessory dwelling unit out back. The ADU doubles as her quilting studio. If someone wanted to rob the place, they’d have to use a machete to cut through the jungle of blackberry bushes. But a red Prius was parked out front. Here’s the plate number.”

More typing followed. “Okay,” she said a moment later. “That vehicle is registered to Constance Marie Herzog. Is she married?”

“Used to be. Divorced.”

“Let’s hope,” Sandy muttered. “With her for an ex, the poor guy could be dead, too.”

That made me laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Sandy asked.

“That was my first thought, too, but he’s still alive and well and living somewhere near Phoenix.”

“Okay,” she said, “here’s another vehicle registration. This one is for a 2007 Dodge Caravan.”

“That makes sense. Witnesses reported that Darius Jackson was helping an old lady back to her van when he disappeared, so presumably she had one, but I didn’t see a van parked anywhere near the residence when I was there earlier this afternoon.”

“And when you bought that quilt from her, she had no idea you were actually investigating her?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“And there’s no chance that she’ll run for the hills?”

“I doubt it. She set our meeting for twop.m.so she could make it to work this evening. She said she was working the night shift this week.”

Sandy took a breath. “Okay,” she said, “let’s hope she didn’t tumble to the idea that we’re onto her. Buying that quilt was a brilliant way of getting a sample of her DNA, but it won’t stand up in court. We’ll need a search warrant for that.”

“Obviously,” I agreed.

Sandy stood up then. Thinking our visit was over, I started to get to my feet, too.

“No,” she told me, “you sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To have a chat with my captain,” Sandy said. “I’m going to lay out everything you’ve just told me. If Gretchen gets a profile that matches up with that Liberty Lake case, we sure as hell had better reopen ours!”

While she was gone, I took the opportunity to call Mel and let her know what was up and that I had no idea what time I’d be getting home.

“Fair enough,” she said. “Sarah’s with me at work, and Kyle and I will be fine without you.”

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