Before I could respond, Vislosky said, “You’re gonna like this.”
“What?”
“You ready?”
“Just say it.” After Claudel, I wasn’t in the mood for suspense.
“I found the hostel where Lena Chalamet and Harmony Boatwright crashed.”
“During their visit to Charleston?”
“No. I discovered they’d also done a Grand Canyon tour.”
Why was everyone around me turning into a comedian? “When did they stay in Charleston?”
“February of 2018.”
“That plays with the date in Harmony’s diary.”
“It surely does.”
“You plan to question the—”
“I surely do.”
I briefed Vislosky on Ryan’s background info on Melanie Chalmers and on the videotapes given to Lena by her great aunt, Florence Sorg. “The recordings were probably made by Lena’s mother.”
“Mélanie Chalamet, aka Melanie Chalmers.”
I nodded. Realized how pointless that was.
“Claudel just phoned me.”
“The Montreal detective who’s such a dick.”
I told Vislosky about Murray’s car and yacht club membership.
“But did this creep have access to boats when your vics vanished back in 2002?”
“I’m sure Claudel will query that.”
“If Murray is dirty, why would he wait so long, then kill again in Charleston?”
I had no answer to that.
“We’ve ID’d our vics, Tonia. Murray might be their killer, or he might not. Either way, we’re still clueless about motive. And about the link between Montreal and Charleston.”
“Gotta be the Chalamets.” Not remarking on my use of her first name.
“Lena was living on the streets when she got the videotapes from Sorg. I’m thinking she might have taken them with her when she went south.”
“And that they might still be stashed at that hostel.”
“They could nail our perp.”
“Or they could be videos of baby’s first steps.”
There was a very long stretch of very dead air.