LeSabre," Mark said. "But when Stryker was killed, his lawyers automatically sent the photos to Monette."
"The blackmail of Lowell Hobbes is probably just one example of the 'domestic crap' Stryker was talking about in his letter."
"There are a lot of people who got a very unpleasant surprise in their mailboxes today," Mark said.
Steve gestured to the files on the table. "So what makes this stuff so special?"
Mark picked up a yellow legal pad covered with his notes. "I've only skimmed a few files, but the people he was black mailing with all these documents, photos, and videos aren't just guilty of infidelities. They committed felonies."
"What kind of crimes are we talking about?" Steve pulled out a chair and sat down next to his father, looking over his shoulder at the indecipherable scrawl on the legal pad.
"Extortion, grand theft, bribery, and manslaughter," Mark said. "The perpetrators run the gamut from CEOs to politicians, from rock stars to police officers. Stryker compiled all the evidence necessary to put them in prison."
"And put himself in the ground," Steve said.
Mark and Steve had pizza delivered and spent the night going through Stryker's blackmail files, audiocassettes, and videotapes, creating a master list of the information, photos, and tapes and what they contained.
Although Mark found Stryker ethically challenged and morally bankrupt, he had to admire the man's skills as a detective. The files showed that Stryker was a meticulous, tenacious, and inspired investigator with a keen understanding of the dark side of human nature. His natural talent at investigation should have propelled him to the upper echelons of the field. Instead, he let greed undermine his potential.
The irony, as Mark saw it, was that Stryker could have made so much more money as an ethical professional than he did as a blackmailer.
He also might have lived longer.
Mark, fascinated by the information in the files, would have liked to work through the night, but his body betrayed him. Around three a.m., he started to nod off at the table and finally dragged himself to bed. But he forgot to close the shades and was awakened only four hours later by the morning sun streaming through the window.
He trudged into the kitchen to find Steve where he left him at the kitchen table, a laptop computer open in front of him and the files rearranged into piles on the floor around his feet.
"Make any headway?" Mark asked.
Steve yawned and leaned back in his chair. "I've separated the files into categories." He motioned to each pile as he spoke. "Cases where I can go out and make immediate arrests. Cases where I've got to get a search warrant. Cases I need to refer to other law enforcement agencies. And cases requiring further investigation or surveillance. There's enough here to keep me busy for months. I hate to say it, but I'm almost grateful to Stryker. All these arrests could knock me up a pay grade and make me Cop of the Year."
"You can pay him back by catching his killer," Mark said. "Anybody jump out at you as more likely than the others to want him dead?"
"I'm sure they all want him dead, but not all of them have the resources or the stomach for it or have enough to lose to make murder seem like a reasonable option," Steve said, turning the screen of his laptop to face Mark. "Anybody he was blackmailing could have done it, but these are the people my gut tells are the likely suspects."
Mark looked at Steve's notes on the screen. The details of three cases were listed, as well as Steve's rationale for picking them as suspects.
In one case, a woman hired Stryker to follow her ex-husband, a Los Angeles city housing official named Delmar Campos, who she was convinced was cheating her out of her fair share of his income.
"Delmar left her for a stripper and moved into an opulent new home, so naturally his ex wanted blood," Steve said. "Stryker discovered that the new home was built by Douglas Lorusso, a contractor who'd won
"The blackmail of Lowell Hobbes is probably just one example of the 'domestic crap' Stryker was talking about in his letter."
"There are a lot of people who got a very unpleasant surprise in their mailboxes today," Mark said.
Steve gestured to the files on the table. "So what makes this stuff so special?"
Mark picked up a yellow legal pad covered with his notes. "I've only skimmed a few files, but the people he was black mailing with all these documents, photos, and videos aren't just guilty of infidelities. They committed felonies."
"What kind of crimes are we talking about?" Steve pulled out a chair and sat down next to his father, looking over his shoulder at the indecipherable scrawl on the legal pad.
"Extortion, grand theft, bribery, and manslaughter," Mark said. "The perpetrators run the gamut from CEOs to politicians, from rock stars to police officers. Stryker compiled all the evidence necessary to put them in prison."
"And put himself in the ground," Steve said.
Mark and Steve had pizza delivered and spent the night going through Stryker's blackmail files, audiocassettes, and videotapes, creating a master list of the information, photos, and tapes and what they contained.
Although Mark found Stryker ethically challenged and morally bankrupt, he had to admire the man's skills as a detective. The files showed that Stryker was a meticulous, tenacious, and inspired investigator with a keen understanding of the dark side of human nature. His natural talent at investigation should have propelled him to the upper echelons of the field. Instead, he let greed undermine his potential.
The irony, as Mark saw it, was that Stryker could have made so much more money as an ethical professional than he did as a blackmailer.
He also might have lived longer.
Mark, fascinated by the information in the files, would have liked to work through the night, but his body betrayed him. Around three a.m., he started to nod off at the table and finally dragged himself to bed. But he forgot to close the shades and was awakened only four hours later by the morning sun streaming through the window.
He trudged into the kitchen to find Steve where he left him at the kitchen table, a laptop computer open in front of him and the files rearranged into piles on the floor around his feet.
"Make any headway?" Mark asked.
Steve yawned and leaned back in his chair. "I've separated the files into categories." He motioned to each pile as he spoke. "Cases where I can go out and make immediate arrests. Cases where I've got to get a search warrant. Cases I need to refer to other law enforcement agencies. And cases requiring further investigation or surveillance. There's enough here to keep me busy for months. I hate to say it, but I'm almost grateful to Stryker. All these arrests could knock me up a pay grade and make me Cop of the Year."
"You can pay him back by catching his killer," Mark said. "Anybody jump out at you as more likely than the others to want him dead?"
"I'm sure they all want him dead, but not all of them have the resources or the stomach for it or have enough to lose to make murder seem like a reasonable option," Steve said, turning the screen of his laptop to face Mark. "Anybody he was blackmailing could have done it, but these are the people my gut tells are the likely suspects."
Mark looked at Steve's notes on the screen. The details of three cases were listed, as well as Steve's rationale for picking them as suspects.
In one case, a woman hired Stryker to follow her ex-husband, a Los Angeles city housing official named Delmar Campos, who she was convinced was cheating her out of her fair share of his income.
"Delmar left her for a stripper and moved into an opulent new home, so naturally his ex wanted blood," Steve said. "Stryker discovered that the new home was built by Douglas Lorusso, a contractor who'd won
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