The Hangman (Forgotten Files Book 3) by Mary Burton

Author:Mary Burton [Burton, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503943698
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2017-04-24T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Thursday, November 2, 11:30 a.m.

Novak and Julia arrived at the small office building on Grove Avenue. Julia was silent, tense. Few cases carried more emotional weight for her than the Hangman. She was glad Novak was helping her with the burden.

The office was nestled in a tree-lined section where older brick homes had been converted to offices. There was no sign out front indicating it housed an engineering firm.

“Stuart Lambert Whitcomb is supposed to be a genius,” Julia said. “He went to Harvard on full scholarship at the age of sixteen and was top of his class until he had a nervous breakdown at nineteen. His parents brought him home, and after a hospital stay and a few prescriptions, they thought it would be good for him to work in a low-level job until he was a little older and could return to school. Got a job working the counter in a porn shop in the Bottom near where the bodies were found.”

“Porn’s not exactly a stable occupation,” he said.

“No argument here. Andrews sent me a more detailed brief on the guy. Honestly, a little troubling how much Andrews can find out about a person online.” She checked her file and pulled out a picture taken of Whitcomb in 1992. His hair was dark and thick and his face lean. What made anyone look twice were the eyes. Gray and penetrating, they had a haunting, unsettling quality. “He was twenty-one when this picture was taken.”

Novak studied the image. “What kind of profile did the detectives get on Whitcomb?”

“Quiet. Withdrawn. Didn’t speak much. His parents hired an attorney immediately and shut down the questioning. According to Andrews, he changed his last name to Whitcomb in 1992. Guess he needed a new beginning.”

“What happened at Harvard? A breakdown can be defined many ways.”

“There was an incident with a female student. She said he yelled at her in a chemistry class. The teacher called campus security, and by the time they arrived, Stuart had broken a beaker and had the woman cornered.”

“Did they have a prior relationship?”

“Not according to Jim’s notes.”

In front of the building a huge oak was quickly shedding its brightly colored orange and yellow leaves. Below it was a wrought-iron bench and an urn full of bright-yellow mums.

“Nice view,” she said. “Just like the view out my office window. Oh wait, I have no window.”

“If you wanted a corner office and a view, you’re in the wrong line of work.”

“True.” Her shoulders back, she climbed out, and together they walked toward the front entrance.

Inside, a young woman with blond hair and a pleasant round face smiled up at them as they approached. The decor was conservative with Oriental rugs, oil-painting landscapes on the wall, and mahogany furniture. It was a far cry from Stuart Lambert and the days of running a porn video shop.

“Welcome to SLW Engineering,” the blonde said. “How may I help you?”

Both pulled out their badges.

Novak spoke first. “We’d like to speak to Stuart Whitcomb.”

She studied their badges.

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