By disaster standards, the quake was nothing much — unless you had spent the past five weeks tracking down the country’s most notorious killer. Most of the damage ended up confined to shattered storefronts and traffic accidents north of the city, but as we pushed our way through the clamoring throng of press in the Hall’s lobby, the quake’s biggest news crackled with the fierceness of a live wire:
The bride and groom killer was free.
Nicholas Jenks had managed to flee after the police van taking him back to jail had flipped over outside Novato, the result of a chain of automobile accidents caused by the tremor. The policeman guarding him had been fatally injured. Two more, in the front seat of the overturned van, were hospitalized.
A huge command center was set up down the hall from Homicide. Roth himself took charge. The place was crawling with brass from downtown and, of course, the press.
An APB was released, Jenks’s description and photo distributed to cops on both sides of the bridge. All city exits and highway tolls were being monitored; traffic slowed to a crawl. Airports, hotels, and car-rental ports were put on alert.
Since we had tracked Nicholas Jenks down originally, Raleigh and I found ourselves at the center of the search.
We placed an immediate surveillance on his residence. Cops spread out all over the Sea Cliff area, from the Presidio to Lands End.
In searches like this, the first six hours were critical. The key was to contain Jenks in the grid where he had bolted, not let him contact anyone who could help him. He had no resources, no funds, no one to take him in. Jenks couldn’t stay on the loose — unless he was a lot craftier than I thought he was.
The escape left me stunned. The man I had hunted down was free, but I was also left conflicted. Were we hunting the right man?
Everyone had a theory about where he might head: the wine country, east into Nevada. I had my own theory. I didn’t think he’d head back to the house. He was too smart, and there was nothing to be gained there. I asked Roth if I could borrow Jacobi and Paul Chin, to play out a hunch.
I took Jacobi aside. “I need you to do me a big favor, Warren.” I asked him to do surveillance outside Joanna Wade’s apartment on Russian Hill. I asked Chin to do the same outside the house of Jenks’s former agent, Greg Marks.
If Jenks really believed he was being set up, those were two places he might go.
Jacobi gave me a look as if I were sending him out on another champagne lead. The entire corps of inspectors was following up leads. “What the hell, Lindsay… why?”
I needed him to trust me. “Because it struck me as funny, too,” I said, begging his support, “why Jenks would leave that damn tuxedo jacket behind. I think he might go after Joanna. Trust me on it.”
With Warren and Paul Chin in place, there was nothing I could do except monitor the wires. Six hours into the search, there was still no sign of Nicholas Jenks.
Chapter 113
A ROUND FOUR, I saw Jill pushing her way through the crowd buzzing outside my office. She looked ready to kill somebody, probably me. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said grabbing her. “Trust me, please, Jill.”
“Cindy’s downstairs,” she said. “Let’s go talk.”
We sneaked out and were able to find Cindy amid a throng of reporters clawing at anyone who came down from the third floor. We called Claire, and in five minutes we were sitting around a table at a coffee shop just down the block. Jenks’s escape had thrown all of my speculations into disarray.
“You still believe he’s innocent?” Jill pressed the issue immediately.
“That depends on where he turns up next.” I informed them that I had stationed a couple of men around the homes of Greg Marks and Joanna Wade.
“Even now?” Jill shook her head and looked close to blowing. “Innocent men don’t run from police custody, Lindsay.”
“Innocent people might,” I said. “If they don’t believe the justice system is being just!”
Claire looked around with a nervous swallow. “Ladies, it strikes me we’re entering into very sensitive territory here, all right? We’ve got a manhunt trying to locate Jenks — he could be shot on sight — and at the same time, we’re talking about trying to firm up a case against someone else. If this comes out, heads will roll. I’m looking at some of those pretty heads right now.”
“If you really believe this, Lindsay, you need to take it to someone,” Jill lectured me. “Roth. Mercer.”
“Mercer’s away. And right now, everybody’s focused on locating Jenks. Anyway, who the hell would believe this? As you say, all I have is a bunch of hypotheticals.”
“Have you told Raleigh?” asked Claire.
I nodded.
“What does he think?”
“Right now, he can’t get past the hair. Jenks’s escape didn’t help my case.”