Page 8 of Dominion's Guard

Page List

Font Size:

The file loads on my screen. Lawrence Blanchard, retired, with a Garden District address. His wife filed the report when he didn't return from what she described as "his evening out." She gave no further details about where "out" meant. She either doesn't know about Dominion or she's protecting his privacy.

I pull up the 911 log from last night. Renata's call was timestamped at 3:07 AM. Patrol was dispatched at 3:09, with officers on scene by 3:18. The report filed reads: no evidence found, complainant potentially intoxicated, case recommended for closure.

Potentially intoxicated. Renata, who spent hours serving drinks without consuming any, who gave a statement detailed enough to pass as court testimony, was written off because a patrol officer decided a bartender reporting a murder at three in the morning was probably drunk.

Lawrence Blanchard is missing. His family confirms he didn't come home. And the patrol unit that responded to Renata's call recommended closure because they didn't find a body.

I reach for my phone and call the parking garage management company. It takes three transfers before I get someone who can access the security system.

"I need footage from last night," I tell the building manager. "All cameras, all levels, midnight to six AM."

"Which garage?"

I give him the address.

Silence on the other end. Then: "Detective, I'm looking at the system now. We had a technical issue overnight. The recording server reset in the early morning hours. Everything before that is intact. Everything after is blank."

"All cameras?"

"All cameras. Full system reset. Our tech support says it looks like a remote access wipe, but they're still diagnosing."

"Don't let anyone touch that system. I'm sending a forensic tech."

I end the call and sit with what I now have. A man is missing. A witness saw him die. And the surveillance system that should have recorded what happened was remotely wiped in the hours around the murder.

This is a professional operation. Whoever did this has the resources to wipe a commercial security system remotely and clean a crime scene to forensic standards in the time it took Renata to drive away and call 911.

I stand, grab my file, and head for the captain's office.

Captain Hebert's door is open, which means he's available but not happy about it. He's been running homicide for over a decade, a thick-shouldered man with reading glasses perpetually pushed up on his forehead and a disposition that runs from impatient to deeply impatient depending on the day.

"Broussard." He doesn't look up from his screen. "What."

"The 911 call from last night. Parking garage in the Irish Channel. Patrol found nothing and recommended closure."

"I saw the report. No evidence, no body, no case." He finally looks up. "Why are you in my office?"

"Because my witness identified the victim by name. Lawrence Blanchard, Garden District family. His wife filed a missing persons report this morning. He didn't come homelast night, missed a morning appointment, phone's off. And the security cameras at that garage were remotely wiped in the hours around the killing. Professional-grade hack."

Hebert takes off his reading glasses and sets them on the desk. "How did your witness identify the victim?"

"She knew him. She described an execution-style killing. Suppressed weapon, single shot. When she returned with patrol, the body and all physical evidence had been removed and the floor had been cleaned with chemical agents."

"How much time between her 911 call and patrol arrival at her car?"

"Minutes. Not long. Then the time to get to the scene."

He considers that. I can see him weighing it: the resources it would take to clean a scene that fast, the sophistication of a remote camera wipe, the coincidence of a missing person matching the witness's account.

"You have a body?"

"No, sir."

"Forensic evidence?"

"The garage floor was chemically cleaned. I've requested a forensic sweep but I'm not optimistic."

"So you have a bartender's statement, a missing person, and wiped cameras. No physical evidence of any crime."