Within Plain Sight

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Within Plain Sight Page 31

by Bruce Robert Coffin


  “Or that you used any on Sunday morning, July 9th,” Stevens said. “We checked the wastepaper basket in the bedroom where you claimed to have disposed of the used prophylactic.”

  “And? You found them, right? You guys can test them and see that they were mine, right?”

  “The bedroom wastebasket was empty, Alex,” Byron said.

  Hope drained from Alex’s face. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince you. I didn’t kill Dani, okay? I swear. Someone is framing me.”

  “You keep saying that, Alex,” Byron said. “But who would benefit from you being charged with Dani’s murder?”

  “I already told you, I don’t know.”

  “What would you say if I told you that we lifted your uncle’s fingerprints from the bag used to dispose of Dani’s head?”

  “Dennis? No friggin’ way, Uncle Dennis would never—”

  “Alex, I’m advising you not to say anything more about your family,” Forsyth said.

  “Dennis wouldn’t have anything to do with this, Stu. He’s been like a father to me. Even more so since Dad died.”

  Stevens jumped in. “Really, Alex? Because Saint Dennis admitted to us that he cut Danica’s head off then dumped her body.”

  Stavros turned up his face in disgust. “Jesus Christ. That’s sick. Why would he do that?”

  “Told us he thought he was protecting your mother.”

  “Lina? Why would she need protecting?”

  “Dennis thought maybe she killed Dani.”

  “Why would he think that?” Alex said. “What’s wrong with you guys? What reason would my mother have for killing a woman who worked for us?”

  Byron took lead again. “Perhaps because you were sleeping with that woman. Putting your marriage to Deborah at risk. Increasing the likelihood that Deborah would leave you and file for custody of the children. Lina’s grandbabies.”

  “Bullshit. Lina would never do something like this. Not to me.”

  But the dazed look on Alex’s face confirmed that he hadn’t given any of this much thought, until now. It was obvious to Byron that the only thing Alex had been concerned with was getting out of jail. The possibility that a family member could be behind his arrest hadn’t occurred to him.

  “Tell me about your relationship with your brother,” Byron said.

  “Petri? What about him?”

  “How do the two of you get along?” Byron said.

  “Okay, I guess. We’ve had our issues. No different than any other siblings. Brothers fight sometimes, right?”

  “What did you and Petri fight about, Alex?” Stevens asked.

  Alex looked back and forth between the detectives. “You’re not seriously suggesting that it’s Petri who’s setting me up?”

  “Would he have reason to?” Byron asked.

  Byron and Stevens walked across the lot of the county jail toward their cars.

  “What do you think?” Stevens asked.

  “I think he’s holding something back.”

  “Me, too. But what?”

  Byron had no idea. Despite all outward appearances to the contrary, the Stavros family had its share of dysfunction. Lina’s gifting of a house to Alex while Petri had to fend for himself was evidence of favoritism. Dennis seemed convinced that Lina had sent him to Bowdoin Street to dispose of a body. Byron wondered what other secrets they might be hiding.

  “Now what?” Stevens asked.

  Byron opened the door to the Taurus and paused. “If this is some feud among family, let’s see if we can turn up the heat.”

  Byron sat impatiently in the unmarked car outside of the gate at the end of the Stavros driveway. It had been close to a minute since he pressed the call button. There was no response. Byron reached through the window and pressed the button again, this time holding it.

  “What do you want, Sergeant Byron?” Angelina Stavros’s voice barked from the speaker just below the security keypad.

  “I need to talk with you, Lina.”

  Several moments passed and Byron began to wonder if she’d left him hanging.

  “Haven’t you done enough damage to my family already? How many times must I be subjected to your harassment?”

  “That isn’t why I’m here.”

  “Why are you here then?”

  “I’m trying to help Alex.”

  There was another long pause, then Byron heard the electronic click and the iron gate began to slide open.

  Byron drove the length of the driveway and parked in front of the house. Angelina was standing in the open doorway to the home.

  “Thank you for seeing me.”

  “Did I have a choice?”

  Stavros turned and headed inside. Byron followed. She led him to a luxuriously decorated library. Walls lined with built-in cherry bookcases and a French door that opened onto a balcony overlooking the ocean.

  “Sit,” she said, gesturing to one of two leather wingback chairs facing a large leather-topped desk. Stavros lighted in the chair behind the desk.

  Byron glimpsed what appeared to be a movie script sitting atop the desk. He sat in the wingback to the left, affording him an angle on the door through which they had entered the room. He wondered what it would be like to have your own library.

  Stavros closed the notebook containing the manuscript and set it aside.

  “You said you wanted to help Alex. I’m listening.”

  “What can you tell me about Petri?”

  Angelina’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is this your idea of helping? Dragging my other son into this?”

  “Petri mentioned a falling-out years ago between the two of you,” Byron lied. “Can you tell me what that was about?”

  She turned the chair so she was facing the Atlantic. “Petri was upset with me. He blamed me for breaking up his engagement to Deborah.”

  “Petri and Deborah were engaged?” Byron said, unable to contain his surprise.

  “For about five months. It happened during their senior year of college. Alex, Petri, and Deborah were inseparable.”

  Byron recalled seeing a picture of the three of them on the wall in Petri’s office. “What happened?”

  Lina turned back to face him. “Just after graduation Alex split up with the girl he’d been seeing, Suzanne Hayman. A short time later, Deborah broke off her engagement to Petri.”

  “Why?”

  “I never knew. All I can tell you is when Alex moved to New York to learn the restaurant business from his father, Deborah followed.”

  “Why did that cause you and Petri to have a falling-out?”

  “He blamed me. He got it into his head that I had convinced Deborah that Alex was the better catch. Petri accused me of always playing favorite to Alex.”

  Byron had wondered why Alex and his family were staying with Lina while waiting for the old house to be renovated. Petri always seemed to be on the outside looking in.

  “Do you have children?” Stavros asked.

  Byron shook his head. “No.”

  “Every parent says that they don’t have favorites, but that’s a lie we tell ourselves. The truth is, Alex has always been my favorite son.”

  “Why?”

  “Alex and Petri aren’t really brothers, Sergeant Byron.”

  “But I thought—”

  “No. I had both of them while I was married to Dimitri, but Petri wasn’t his.” Angelina stood up and started to pace the room. “Dimitri and I had hit a bad patch, and I strayed. I’m not proud of it, but it happened. I had an affair with Gene Wagner. It only lasted a few months, but as you can see it cost me dearly.”

  “Petri is Gene’s son?” Byron asked. “And that’s why Gene is always around?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Defeated, Lina walked back to the desk and slumped into her chair. “Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always loved Alex more than Petri. Petri is a constant reminder of my failings as a mother, and a wife.”

  “Does Petri know?” Byron asked.

  “I don’
t know. He may have figured it out, I suppose, but he’s never said anything if he has. Petri and I agreed to put the past behind us a couple of years ago, but there is still an awkwardness between us. I’ve thought about telling him the truth, but I’m not sure our shaky détente could survive that.” She looked directly at Byron. “And he may end up being the only son I have, now that you’ve locked Alex away.”

  “Did Petri ever marry?” Byron asked.

  “Once. Esme Panagakos.”

  “Esme?”

  “Short for Esmeralda. A beautiful young woman. Wealthy family friends of Dimitri’s. The marriage only lasted a couple of years, though.”

  “What happened?”

  “I only know that Esme left him, citing irreconcilable differences.”

  “Lina, did Petri ever get over losing Deborah?”

  There was a long pause before she answered. “I don’t know.”

  Byron was on the phone to Stevens even before reaching the security gate at the end of Angelina’s driveway.

  “Hey, Sarge,” Stevens answered. “What’s up?”

  “Two things. I need you to locate a woman by the name of Esmeralda Panagakos. She was briefly married to Petri.”

  “There can’t be too many people with that name. And the second?”

  “Did we ever obtain location history for Petri for Sunday morning July 9th?”

  “From his cell provider?” Stevens asked.

  “Yes.”

  “No. We had Tran check Alex, Dennis, and Lina, but that’s it. You want me to subpoena Petri’s?”

  “Yes. Like yesterday. Get Dustin to work his magic.”

  “I’ll make the call.”

  Byron returned to 109. Esmeralda Panagakos’s contact information was waiting on his desk in the form of a handwritten note from Melissa Stevens. Byron made the call.

  “And what did you say your name was?” Panagakos asked.

  “John Byron. I’m a detective sergeant with the police department in Portland, Maine.”

  “What is this about?”

  “I’m calling to ask you about your marriage to Petri Stavros.”

  There was a long pause in the conversation. Byron was beginning to wonder if Panagakos was still on the line when she finally answered.

  “I haven’t heard that name in a while. Why are you asking about Petri?”

  Byron explained that he was investigating the homicide of a young woman who’d been seeing Petri’s brother Alex.

  “And you’ve charged Alex?” Panagakos asked.

  “Yes. He is currently in custody, charged with murder.”

  “That’s hard to imagine. The last I knew Alex was married to a woman named Deborah Strickland.”

  “Alex and Deborah are still married,” Byron said, although he didn’t imagine they would be for much longer.

  “As sad as all of this is, Sergeant Byron, I don’t understand what any of it has to do with me.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. My question is about Petri.”

  “What about him?”

  “I hope you’ll forgive me for asking such a personal question, but I couldn’t help but wonder why you and Petri divorced after such a brief marriage.”

  “That is a rather personal question, Sergeant.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Byron said.

  “We divorced because I wouldn’t share my husband with another woman.”

  “He was cheating on you?”

  “Not exactly. At least not in the physical sense.”

  “I’m not sure I follow,” Byron said, attempting to draw it out of her.

  “Petri was still in love with a girl he had dated in college.”

  “Who?” Byron asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Alex’s wife, Deborah.”

  Chapter 35

  Tuesday, 12:35 p.m.,

  July 25, 2017

  Byron could feel things beginning to come together. As so often happens when a murder case seemed to have more questions than answers, suddenly everything was snapping into focus. Turning on the single fact of Petri’s continued infatuation with Deborah, Byron believed he may well have found a solid motive for the killing of Danica Faherty.

  The Taurus fired up as Byron turned the key in the ignition. He was reaching for his cellphone when it rang with an incoming call.

  “Byron.”

  “Sergeant, it’s Shirley. I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I’m not sure it can wait until you get back to 109.”

  “What is it, Shirley?”

  “A man keeps calling here saying that he needs to talk with you. He’s very insistent.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Dennis Stavros.”

  Byron phoned the jail. After being on hold for the better part of ten minutes, he was finally connected with Dennis Stavros.

  “What was Danica Faherty killed with?” Dennis asked.

  “What?” Byron said.

  “You told me that Danica Faherty, the woman I found in the kitchen on Bowdoin Street, was struck with a weapon. I saw two wounds in the back of her head. What was she hit with?”

  “A hammer,” Byron said, resisting the urge to expound upon his answer.

  “Did you locate it?” Stavros asked. “The hammer?”

  “Why? Do you know something, Dennis?”

  There was a pause. “I might.”

  Not wanting to lose a single minute, Byron put Stevens on search warrant duty yet again. This time it was for Petri’s residence and vehicle.

  Byron paced around CID as Stevens worked. LeRoyer stood behind her looking over her shoulder and quizzing both detectives on the latest.

  “You think you know where the hammer is?” LeRoyer asked.

  “Petri’s uncle asked me if we’d ever identified the murder weapon,” Byron said. “I told him she had been killed by a hammer blow to the back of the head. When I asked him why, he asked me if the hammer could have been a framing hammer with a broken claw.”

  LeRoyer’s eyes widened. “How would he know that?”

  “Because he loaned Petri a hammer exactly like that a few weeks ago, so that he could frame out his deck.”

  “Evidently not the only thing he was hoping to frame,” Stevens said.

  “And Petri still has it?” LeRoyer asked.

  “That’s just it,” Byron said. “Petri returned a framing hammer to him shortly after Danica was murdered. A brand-new framing hammer.”

  “You think he might still have it? The murder weapon I mean.”

  “It’s a long shot, but with a little luck, he might.”

  “Why wouldn’t Petri just get rid of the evidence?” LeRoyer asked.

  “Because he might need it later to bolster the case against Alex. And we’re still missing Danica’s cellphone.”

  “What’s the cell tower history thingy?” LeRoyer asked as he scanned over the probable cause affidavit for the search warrant on Stevens’s computer screen.

  “I had Tran query Petri’s cell provider for location history,” Byron said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to know where Petri’s cellphone was on Sunday morning,” Byron said.

  “And?”

  “And early Sunday morning, when Petri claims he was at home sleeping, his phone was pinging the towers around Portland’s peninsula. Not possible if he was in Cape Elizabeth.”

  “Alex says he’s in Boston, and that turns out to be bullshit,” LeRoyer said. “Petri is at home sleeping, also a lie.”

  “Not to mention the worst cover story ever,” Stevens said without looking up from her work.

  “Does anyone in this family know how to establish an alibi?” LeRoyer asked.

  Apparently not, Byron thought.

  “I don’t get it,” LeRoyer said. “Why would Petri want to frame his own brother?”

  “Keep reading,” Byron said.

  It took another ninety minutes before they were able to find an available judge to sign
off on the warrant. While he and Stevens worked on that, Byron sent Detective Gardiner to watch Petri’s home. Gardiner was instructed to tail Petri as soon as he left the house. The plan was to wait until Petri left for Alessandro’s before executing the warrant. Things were likely to go much smoother if Petri didn’t realize they were searching his residence. As soon as Petri arrived at the restaurant Gardiner phoned Byron.

  “He’s here, Sarge,” Gardiner said. “Parked his Volvo around the corner in the parking garage on Pearl.”

  “Okay, Luke, sit on that car,” Byron said. “Let me know if he moves an inch. It would be just like a nosy neighbor to give him a heads-up.”

  “You got it.”

  As soon as they had the signed warrants in hand Byron instructed the search team to rendezvous at Petri’s home. Time would be of the essence.

  The search team consisted of Byron, Stevens, Nugent, Pelligrosso, and two of Peterson’s property crime detectives. Normally, Byron wouldn’t have cared about damaging the door to a home that they were searching, but given the high status of the Stavros family he opted for the services of a local locksmith to get them inside.

  Methodically, they searched Petri’s home from top to bottom. The warrant authorized them to look for the murder weapon, Faherty’s missing cellphone, and any evidence linking Petri to the crime. The last piece included any clothing which might contain the victim’s blood. It took them the better part of two hours before they found anything significant. It was in a room they’d previously searched.

  Byron and Nugent stood next to Pelligrosso with mouths agape. Gabe had removed a panel covering a false wall at the back of Petri’s closet. The panel had been held in place by strips of Velcro. Contained within the compartment were hundreds of photographs of Deborah Stavros. Many had been cut from larger photos, effectively removing any other persons from the image. Byron leaned in closer and noticed some of the photos had been digitally altered; Petri had inserted himself into the pictures with Deborah, as if they had been together.

  “Think we just established a motive,” Gabe said.

  “This guy’s right off the fucking rails,” Nugent said.

 

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