The Roubaud Connection (Genevieve Lenard, #12)

He straightened. “One of the easiest locks to pick and only this one on the door. Jace clearly wasn’t concerned about security.”

“For the average citizen, the building security would seem more than enough.” Vinnie searched the hallway. “If only they had security cameras here as well. It’s not going to help if the killer came in through the back door or the basement.”

Colin opened the door and turned on the light.

Manny blinked a few times, looked at me, then back into the apartment. “Doc? What are we looking at?”

I was trying to control my breathing and push the panic away from my mind. I looked into the flat and shuddered. A small entrance led to a large open space that appeared to be the living room. Little of the floor space or furniture was visible. The entrance area had piles of magazines, shoes and delivery boxes. At first glance, it appeared chaotic, but I soon saw how neatly each pile was organised. The coat tree was overloaded with coats, jackets and sweaters—all on hangers, arranged by colour. In some places, boxed items reached the ceiling.

“Hoarder.” The word came out hoarse and I cleared my throat. “Jace was a hoarder.”

Daniel stepped into the flat, his hand resting on his holstered gun. “Let us clear the flat before you guys come in.”

Manny unbuttoned his coat, took his handgun from its hip holster and followed Daniel and Pink into the flat.

“I don’t want to go in there.” I really didn’t. My mind functioned better in a much less cluttered environment. It didn’t matter that there appeared to be obsessive order to the clutter. I found it most unsettling.

“I hear ya, Jen-girl.” Vinnie faked a shudder. “Who lives with all this stuff around?”

“Compulsive hoarders experience great anxiety at the thought of discarding anything, whether it is a useful object, a used object or rubbish. It’s clinically recognised as both a mental disability as well as a possible symptom for obsessive compulsive behaviour. People who hoard don’t have control over the compulsion.” I understood compulsions. “The force of it can rule a person’s life.”

“Clear!” Daniel’s voice interrupted my explanation.

“Jenny?” Colin squeezed my hand. “Want to try?”

“It’s not that bad, Doc.” Manny stood in the living room and waved his hand towards his right. “This side of the flat is the complete opposite to this crowded bloody mess.”

I took three deep breaths and nodded. I walked past the overloaded coat tree, into the living area and frowned. Here, Jace had piled books on top of each other until it looked like it was about to topple over.

“It doesn’t smell bad.” Usually hoarders found it difficult to throw out food containers and any other garbage. That resulted in a smell similar to a rubbish dump. There wasn’t even dust visible here.

There were three piles of books. One was academic textbooks, one books on history and one cookbooks. I thought of my alphabetised bookshelves and wondered what it was in Jace’s brain that made these piles more appealing.

I pointed at the rug on the floor, then at the piles of books. “Nothing is unsettled.”

“Hmph.” Manny glared at the neatly organised piles of bills and notepapers covering the oiled wooden floor. “You’re right, Doc. With this little space, a scuffle of any sort would’ve moved this thin rug and toppled the books.”

“In here!” Pink’s voice came from the hallway to the right. “Watch your step for the blood on the floor.”

My eyes immediately went to the wooden floor, looking for rust-coloured stains. There was nothing in the living area. This flat was spacious for a young man living on his own. The hallway led to three doors, one of which was to the bathroom. It was in front of the bathroom that I saw the first blood drop.

Vinnie pointed at it. “The killer must’ve carried Jace out to his car to dump him in the forest.”

I walked to the bedroom, inspecting the floor before I put my feet anywhere. Pink walked out of the room and headed to the living area. “You guys have a look in there. I’m going to go get my 3D scanner.”

The bedroom was large. It looked like it could’ve been two rooms in the original plans that had been combined to form a space that swallowed up the three-quarter bed pushed in the corner. There were blinds in front of the windows and no décor to give this space any warmth or ambience.

“Looks like this was set up for gaming.” Vinnie was standing in front of a corner desk with three large monitors and a game controller next to the keyboard.

“How can this be so neat and the living room such a mess?” Manny scowled at the empty walls. “This is minimalistic.”

“It used to be neat.” I pointed at the rug. “There was a struggle here.”

The rug was bunched up in places and had been pushed out of place. A chair which I assumed was Jace’s desk chair was on its side on the rug, one of the legs broken. There was blood spatter everywhere. On the rug, on the bed covers, even on the empty walls. The dark leather of the desk chair had shiny spots that I was sure were also blood. I shuddered.

“I reckon this is our primary crime scene.” Daniel looked at the chair. “This is where Jace was tortured.”

The familiar tightness settled around my chest and I turned away from the bed and the chair. I took note of the curled corner of the rug where Jace must’ve frequently walked to the built-in cupboards.

The minimalism and tidiness of this room was the main reason I didn’t feel claustrophobic with the men in the room with me. Manny opened the cupboard doors and grunted. Jace’s clothes were neatly folded and all the hangers were white. Manny pushed the clothes aside and started searching through each one individually.

For some reason, Jace had needed this space to have less clutter. I looked at Daniel. “Are the kitchen and bathroom neat like this?”

“Very neat.” Pink walked in, a large backpack over his one shoulder and holding out a plastic evidence bag for us to see. “The bathroom is extremely clean. Like white tile advertising clean.” He lifted the evidence bag. “I found this phone in the toilet bowl. The water smells like extremely strong disinfectant.”

Colin stepped closer to look at the phone and frowned. “It looks like a train went over this thing.”

“Yeah.” Pink put the plastic bag in one of the many pockets of his uniform. “I doubt we’ll get anything from this. Crushed as it is and lying in the chemical water for who knows how long? Well, whoever destroyed the phone knew what they were doing.”

“At least Jace had the chance to send Caelan that one photo.” Vinnie shook his head. “Poor kid.”

Colin walked to the bed. “This is like the photo.” Careful to avoid the blood, he got down on his hands and knees and looked under the bed. “The glasses. Oh, my God. And the Roubaud.”

Daniel took a step towards the bed, both hands raised. “Don’t touch anything yet. Let Pink record the scene first, else it will cause all kinds of problems with the crime scene guys and prosecution.”

Colin nodded and looked at Vinnie. “Still have that flashlight on you?”

“Sure do.” Vinnie took the small light from his trouser pocket and handed it to Colin.

Colin glanced once more at the blood before leaning forward and pointing the beam of light under the bed. We all watched him. For almost a minute he didn’t move, except to slightly change the direction of the light.

“What the bleeding hell are you doing down there, Frey?”

Colin didn’t answer. After another thirty seconds, he turned off the light and leaned back on his heels. “This Roubaud is not authentic.”

“Are you sure?” Manny looked at the bed. “It’s dark down there.”

“I’m sure.” Colin stood up. “My eyes are not as old as yours.”

“Bugger off, Frey.” Manny glared at Colin. “Well? Speak.”

“Such a charmer.” Colin ignored Manny’s deepening scowl and looked at the bed. “I’ll need to see the painting in proper lighting, but I’m pretty sure I know whose work it is.”

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