132 Playing With High-Profile Criminals (2/2)
I elbowed him. ”Don't tell me, the mighty Detective Nash that everyone looks up to is averse to love.” I raised a brow in question. Nash turned to glare at me. ”What does behavioral science say about that?” I inquired teasingly.
”It says that I was busy studying in college and then busy working day and night and never really got a taste of love.” He batted my hand away.
We had already made our way back to the office and were looking at the piles of paperwork on our desks. ”Let's get to it,” I groaned.
I pulled out the voice recording from emergency services.
”Hi, I came out for a walk and heard some screaming from a neighborhood house. There seems to be a fight going on,” a male voice came on. It was a bit jumbled and the microphone had morphed the voice a little, but the lack of concern in his voice and confident lilt in his voice made him distinguishable. ”I think there is a break in… Can you come quickly?”
There was information exchanged and nothing more. He didn't give any name or particulars about what he heard, just the sounds of a violent argument.
I tapped on the desk to get Nash's attention. He looked up curiously.
”Collins made the emergency call.” His eyes widened. ”I am sure. I analyzed his speaking style and voice modulation. It's definitely him,” I told him before he could ask me.
”But he wouldn't be at the scene when it was happening, right?” Nash asked. ”We saw McCain stop near Collins' residence-cum-office, so…”
”He made it from his residence, of course,” I ended the thought. I pulled out the video footage of McCain driving around the city and went to the part where he was in the residential area. I noted the time and matched it with the call.
”He stopped in the residential area for about ten minutes and then he drove off. Shortly after, Collins made the call.”
Nash scrubbed his face. ”Watch the footage again. Do you see anything of note?” he asked. He stood up and came to my side. We watched slowly as the whole thing transpired. Despite how grainy the video was, when I looked closely, I could see McCain drop something on the pavement from his window.
We were silent. ”Do you think that is the weapon?” Nash asked me softly.
”I think so…”
But it didn't add up. ”Why did he go near the river, then?” I asked, perplexed.
”To throw us off,” Nash declared. ”Collins isn't stupid. He was a public defender and he knows the technology we have on our hands. He played it well to safeguard himself.”
”Even if McCain gets caught, Collins won't be pulled up for fabricating evidence and tampering with the crime scene?” I asked.
Nash looked at me with keen eyes. ”What I would give to get that weapon back. I wonder what Collins did with it,” Nash wondered.
”Got rid of it,” I said without emotion. ”We should lose hope. Even if they bring him in for questioning, we will get nothing. He can deny everything. It doesn't stand in the trial.”
I lowered my head to the desk.
”This man is thorough, isn't he?” Nash was just as frustrated, I could tell.
”Of course, he plays with high-profile criminals. He can't let their names be tainted or his for that matter. He takes all the precautions necessary.”
”Then our only hope is getting answers and evidence from the boyfriend and turning the manager over to our side,” Nash prompted.
”That means… we need to figure out what the manager wants.” I looked at him, a bubble of deviousness flashing in my eyes.
”What are you planning?” he asked with a hint of hesitation.
”I might have to play some tricks to get a word out of the Manager. But don't worry, I won't do anything illegal or grey.” I smiled wide.
”So manipulative,” Nash clucked his tongue.
”You're one to talk!” I countered. We laughed, letting our burdens go for a minute. Soon, we would have to return to work and make sure that Maya got justice.