Page 29 of The Perfect Deception
According to the background info provided by the research team, the Winstons ran an identity theft consulting firm, which helped clients—almost always wealthy—if their personal data was compromised.Once Vanessa died, Walter re-named the company and moved the business from their downtown skyscraper office to the one Jessie was currently looking at.It was on the second floor of a shabby two-story strip mall on the edge of downtown.
Jessie could guess why he would have moved out of both his old home and office.It was likely just too painful to be reminded on a daily basis of the person who used to share those spaces with him.What she found more surprising was that his new home and office were both far less impressive-looking than the old ones, even though he still had the money to maintain appearances.She wondered if that money was going to something else expensive—maybe drugs or women.Or was he somehow punishing himself by living a grimier existence?
As Jessie got out of the car and she and Ryan headed for the strip mall, one thing seemed clear to her.Whatever his motives for the moves, it seemed obvious that the loss of Vanessa had changed him in a deep way.The question was whether those changes had turned him into a murderer.
They headed up the steps next to the pawn shop on the first floor, and moved along the exterior hall, past the bail bondsman’s office to the door that read:IPS: Identity Protection Services.Jessie could hear someone talking in an animated voice on the other side of it.
She couldn’t catch everything but distinctly heard a male voice saying the words “credit report,” “Experian, “Equifax,” and “police report” She glanced at the time.It was 5:48 in the evening and the man still seemed to be grinding.
She looked over at Ryan.“Should we knock politely or kick in the door?It sounds like he’s on a business call.”
“We’re dealing with a potential murder suspect here so let’s split the difference.Knock, announce ourselves, then immediately try to open the door.If it’s locked and he’s not cooperative right away, my foot gets involved.”
Jessie didn’t have any problem with the plan.She stepped to the right of the door while Ryan took up a position to the left.Both of them had their hands on their still-holstered guns.They shared a knowing glance, then followed the routine they’d used so many times before.
Jessie rapped on the door loudly.The voice inside stopped talking.Ryan barked "LAPD."Jessie waited two seconds for a response.When none was forthcoming, she turned the door handle.It didn't move.Ryan stepped backward, unholstered his weapon, and silently counted down from three using his fingers.Jessie unholstered her gun too.
Ryan was just starting to move forward while lifting his right leg, when they heard the distinct sound of the door being unlocked.He put his foot down, re-holstered his gun, and stepped back to the left just as the door opened.Jessie managed to put her weapon back right before a man’s head popped out.
It was Walter Winston.He looked older and more weathered than the man in the pictures that research had sent them, but he still had the same light brown hair and hazel eyes.The hair was longer than in the photos and the eyes were bloodshot.He had a couple of days' worth of stubble.Jessie knew the man was only 31, younger than her, but he seemed have aged half a decade from the time of Vanessa's death, just 18 months ago.
“What the hell is this about?”he demanded.Jessie could smell the alcohol on his breath.“Why are the police slamming on the door at my place of business?”
“Hello, Mr.Winston,” Ryan said, holding out his badge.His tone was as calm now as it had been forceful moments ago.“I’m Detective Hernandez and this is Ms.Hunt.We’re investigating a recent crime and we believe you may have valuable information that could assist us.”
Winston looked back and forth between them.After a couple of seconds he opened the door a little wider so they could see more than just his head.The man was slight, about five foot six and at most, 150 pounds.He was wearing black sneakers, slacks, and a dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top.He had on a tie, which he’d loosened at some point during the day.He was presentable, if not a wholly professional-looking.More importantly, they could see that both his hands were empty.At the sight of that, Jessie removed her hand from her gun.Ryan kept his in place but his grip relaxed.
“Assist you how?”Winston demanded.
“May we come in?”Jessie tried to sound conversational.“We don’t want to impact your business by having folks see law enforcement asking you questions in your doorway.”
He laughed bitterly at that.“Ms.Hunt is it?Does this really look like the kind of neighborhood where my professional reputation will be squandered by having cops here?”
Despite the question, he opened the door all the way and waved them in.Jessie stepped inside.The office was comprised of just two rooms: a tiny office in front with a paper-strewn desk, and a slightly larger room behind it, with multiple filing cabinets against the walls.There was only one chair for clients.Ryan motioned that Jessie should take it.She did and he stood beside her.Winston walked around behind his desk and plopped down.
“So what’s this investigation?”
“Have you heard anything about the recent incidents in your old neighborhood, Lafayette Square?”Ryan asked carefully.
“Incidents?”
“A couple of people died there in the last day.”Ryan didn’t expound beyond that.
Winston’s red eyes opened wider.Jessie couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or a prepared reaction.She felt out of practice at this profiler thing.
“Wow,” he said.“No.I haven’t really kept in touch with anyone from there since I moved and I don’t watch the news a lot.Who died?”
“We’ll get to that,” Ryan assured him.“But first, we’re trying to establish some context.We understand that your own wife passed away not too long ago.”
Winston’s eyes narrowed.“That’s right.”He didn’t add to it.
Jessie decided to try a more direct tack.
“Mr.Winston, I’m going to be honest with you.This may be a painful conversation for you.Our questions are related to the life swaps that you and your wife engaged in with other couples, and the aftermath of those activities.”
Winston’s expression hardened.“I don’t have anything to say about that.”
“You may not have much choice,” Ryan warned.
