“By all means.” DuBois opened a file drawer and pulled out the file marked Vanna Norstrom and handed it to JP.
“Do you know what you’re looking for?”
“Magic,” JP said.
JP read through every word in the file that had anything to do with Harley Lindgren, but found no “magic.” About halfway through, a document caught JP’s eye. It piqued his curiosity because of the language. “What’s this?”
“That’s the Norstrom family trust. It’s written in Swedish, but the translated document should be in there.”
JP shuffled through the trust and found the English translation. “You said Helga had nothing to gain by getting rid of Vanna, correct?”
“That’s right. Helga was set for life. Vanna, because of her mental instability, had no control over her money. She got enough to live on, and when she died the money went to a charity.”
“So, if Vanna had children, they wouldn’t inherit?”
“No, but apparently she couldn’t have children of her own, and they didn’t want to encourage her to adopt because of her mental illness. And since Helga was gay, they didn’t expect any grandchildren.”
JP jerked his head up. “Helga’s gay?”
“Yes, according to everyone we talked to, including Helga.”
Then JP remembered the neighbor, Anastasia, started to tell him something about all the men who Vanna had coming around, and her husband Ervin stopped her. Maybe that’s what she was trying to tell him.
“I’m a little confused,” JP said, and continued to read the translated trust document.
After a few minutes, JP said, “Can I use your computer a second?”
“Sure.” DuBois turned the screen toward JP and handed him the keyboard.
JP googled Harleysk Magisk Cirkel. “Bingo.”
“What?”
“The charity the Norstroms left their money to is the Swedish Magic Circle, a national organization for magic in Sweden.”
“But what does that really tell us?”
“I’m not sure. You said Vanna’s father, Arne Norstrom, was in show business. Do you know what kind?”
“Not really. It was never an issue.”
“Could he have been a magician?”
“I suppose.”
JP continued to search, but found nothing about Mr. Norstrom. His wife, Ulrika Terese Norstrom, was quite a famous actress. After reading numerous newspaper and magazine articles, the few that were in English, JP found one with a one-liner about her husband, the struggling magician.
“So their father was a magician, which would explain why the money was left to Swedish Magic Circle.”
“But he didn’t make the money, his wife did. Why wasn’t it left to some actors’ guild or something?”
“Maybe because she felt bad that her husband never made it big.”
JP went back to the Norstrom file and read more documents. “Well, spit in the fire and call the dogs.”
“Huh? What did you find?”
“Vanna had problems sleeping, and among other things, was on a medication called Versed, which is the trade name for Midazolam, the same drug they found in Sabre’s blood after the magic show.”
Just then a young man in his mid-twenties came into DuBois’ office. “I ran that plate for you, sir.”
“And?”
“It’s registered to one Helga Norstrom in Tustin, California, and it’s a custom plate, sir.”
“I think we need to pay Helga a visit.”
Chapter 56
Detective DuBois picked up his office phone and called Helga on the home phone number that was in the file.
When she answered, he said, “This is Detective Vincent DuBois with the San Diego Sheriff’s Department. Do you remember me?”
“Yes, sir, of course. It’s been a long time.”
“We have some new information that might lead us to Vanna. Do you mind if I come by and ask you a few more questions?”
“Of course not. When would you like to come?”
“About an hour, maybe a little more.”
“About an hour and a half would be good.”
~~~
DuBois and JP arrived in Newport Beach around six-thirty, about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. They pulled up in front of Helga’s house. Only a few lights were on, making it difficult to know if anyone was at home.
“We’re a little early. Do you think we should wait?”
“Nope,” JP said as he exited the car. “I bet she’s already gone.”
DuBois followed JP to the door and knocked, but no one answered. He tried again. Still nothing. He called out to Helga, identifying himself, but no one responded.
“I think she might be in danger,” JP said facetiously.
“Don’t go all ‘McCloud’ on me now. We’re not breaking in.”
“Have it your way,” JP said and started to cross the street.
“Where are you going?” DuBois asked.
“Anastasia will know if she’s home. She doesn’t miss much that goes on in this house.”
Anastasia answered the door and said, “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” She called out, “Ervin, it’s that nice cowboy, the one you call McCloud.”
“That’s too funny,” DuBois said, but he was laughing so hard he could barely get it out.
“Come on in,” Anastasia said. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Detective DuBois.” He was so tempted to say Detective Dumb Bois, but he didn’t.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” JP said. “We just need to know if you’ve seen Helga tonight?”
“She just left.”
“Thank you,” JP said, and they turned to leave.
“I think she was going on a trip.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she left in a cab and the driver loaded her suitcases in the back. It was one of those little minivans or a small SUV or something; I don’t know the difference. Earlier her bedroom shade was open and I saw her packing. She seemed to be in a big hurry.”
“How long ago was that?” DuBois asked.
“About an hour.”
“Do you know what cab company it was?”
“It was the Yellow Cab Company of Greater OC. I know because I recognized the phone number on the side of the car. We use them a lot. And—”
“Let’s go,” DuBois said.
“And what?” JP asked Anastasia.
“The cab number was 9-1-3.”
“You’re an angel,” JP said.
They darted across the street and hopped in the car.
“She must have spooked when I called,” DuBois said.
“Looks that way, and I think I know why,” JP said. “I’m guessing she’s headed to the airport, but we don’t know which one. It could be Santa Ana, LAX, Ontario, or Pasadena, depending on when she could get a flight to wherever she’s going. If she’s even going to an airport.”
“I’m betting on John Wayne Airport,” DuBois said and drove in that direction. Then he called his office and asked them to find out where cab #913 was dispatched to. “Let me know as soon as you know something. I’m in pursuit.”
They still had another half-hour or so of rush-hour traffic. It was completely stopped in some places on SR-55. Even with DuBois’ siren, it was slow going. They were almost to SR 73 when the call came from DuBois’ office telling them the destination for cab #913 was San Diego Airport.
“I didn’t see that coming,” JP said.
“It must have been the earliest flight she could get.”
“Or maybe she figured no one would look for her there. After all, you were on your way to Orange County.”
DuBois took SR 73 south. It was a toll road in places and a more direct route that dumped into I-5. JP suspected the cab probably took that route as well, and if not, he and DuBois would be at the airport waiting for them when they got there. DuBois didn’t need the siren again until they got on Interstate 5. It was congested, but not nearly as ba
d as if they had gone north toward LAX.
“Who are the detectives on the incident that happened at the Sports Arena?” DuBois asked.
“Eugene Fontenot and Addie Lewis. Do you know them?”
“I know Fontenot. He’s a good guy. Knows his stuff. Does his job. Are they investigating your cut brake line too?”
“Yes. Lewis came out and checked out the truck. They believe there’s a connection.”
“You should call them. If your suspicions are correct, they should be in on this. Besides, they can do some legwork before we get there. Maybe narrow down the airline.”
“My guess would be Scandinavia Airlines.”
“Does it fly out of San Diego?”
“I don’t know, but I bet she’s headed to Sweden.”
~~~
DuBois and JP were passing through Del Mar, about twenty-five minutes from the San Diego Airport when Detective Fontenot called. DuBois put him on speaker.
“The cab company has agreed to let us know when they arrive, or as soon as the driver dispatches the information. They are not here yet. We do know that they’re headed for British Airways, Terminal 2.”
“Thanks, Eugene.”
The traffic had dispersed and DuBois could maintain seventy-five without the siren so he shut it off. They were passing the Balboa Avenue off-ramp when JP pointed ahead and said, “There they are.”
“We could go on ahead and be there waiting for them when they get there.”
“But if she spooks again, she could change her mind and go to Tijuana or something. Then we’d never catch her.”
DuBois dropped back and stayed behind them until they reached Harbor Drive near the airport. The traffic made it difficult to keep close to the cab. JP texted Detective Addie and read the messages to DuBois as they came in.
JP: Just took Terminal 2 exit off Harbor. Taxi is in front.
Addie: We’re outside British Airways Terminal. No visual yet.
JP: I can still see them.
Addie: I alerted TSA.
Addie: I have a visual now.
“Tell her to wait for us,” DuBois said. “It’ll take a few minutes for our friend to pay the driver and get her suitcases.”
JP: Wait for us.
DuBois parked at the curb, about three cars behind the cab. No one had exited the cab yet. They watched until the driver got out and pulled the woman’s suitcases out of the back. Then he opened the door for her. As soon as he closed the door, DuBois and JP got out of the car and approached. The driver was rolling her suitcases and they were walking toward the skycap.
DuBois and JP were about ten feet behind them when JP yelled, “Vanna.”
She turned, wide-eyed, looked at JP and DuBois, and then bolted.
“Dammit, McCloud!” DuBois shouted as he took off after her. He’d only gone a few steps when Addie came from her other side and tackled her to the ground. “I’m too old for this,” DuBois said when JP reached them.
Addie got up, pulling the perpetrator to her feet, and handcuffed her. She looked at JP. “How did you know I was Vanna?”
“You just told me.”
DuBois and JP stepped back as Addie Mirandized Vanna and placed her under arrest.
“How did you know she was Vanna, McCloud?”
“Vanna could change her appearance, but she wasn’t likely to change her sexual preference. After that, I just followed the money. Helga had nothing to gain by getting rid of Vanna, but Vanna had everything to gain—her freedom from Helga for starters. She would get control of the trust fund and could live her life in plain sight.”
Chapter 57
Harley lived on the side of a hill with a view that extended for miles. His house was large, but not pretentious. The back yard was about a half-acre with half a dozen fruit trees. It had a deck that ran the length of the house, and a walkway that led to a waterfall surrounded by numerous plumeria plants.
The back yard buzzed as everyone became acquainted. Harley’s oldest daughter, who Sabre had already met, couldn’t attend, but Harley’s son Eddie was there with his wife and two little girls. The oldest, Mandy, was four. When they were introduced to JP and Sabre, Mandy said, “I have some cowboy boots too. They’re pink.”
“I bet they’re real pretty,” JP said.
“Are you a real cowboy?”
“What’s a real cowboy?”
“Real cowboys ride horses.”
“Then I guess I’m a real cowboy.”
Mandy took JP by the hand. “Come see,” she said and started to pull him toward the pond.
“You don’t have to go,” her father said.
“No, it’s fine. I love children.”
Sabre and Eddie were discussing the legal profession when a woman around thirty with almond-shaped eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes and a thick head of brown hair that hung a few inches below her shoulders, walked in with a bounce in her step and a smile on her face.
“Let’s get this party started,” she bellowed.
“Who’s that?” Sabre asked.
“That’s Chloe, my baby sister. She always knows how to make an entrance.”
“She’s a beautiful woman.”
“She is that. She’s a sweet girl too. She has made a few mistakes along the way, but she’s back on track and finally finishing school. And she’s doing it without help from Dad, which is amazing since she was always the first to have her hand out. I’m very proud of her. We all are.”
Sabre walked around the yard watching the interactions. She saw her mother checking on the guests as if she were right at home. Her mother’s face seemed to glow with happiness. When Harley walked up and put his arm around her shoulder, she smiled up at him. She seemed so at ease.
“Mom looks happy, doesn’t she?” Ron said, as he approached.
“She does. I hope it works out for her, now that we know he’s not a killer.”
“Well, we don’t know that for sure,” Ron joked. “We only know he didn’t kill Vanna.”
Sabre smacked him. “Don’t be a goofball. Mom looks happier than I’ve seen her since…” She stopped and looked at Ron. Her forehead furrowed.
“Since Dad?” Ron said. “I know. It’s nice to see.”
“Have you met Chloe, yet?”
“No, but I’m about to. She’s gorgeous.”
As Ron walked away, Sabre watched JP entertain Mandy until Harley walked up and said, “I need to thank you for clearing my name.”
“You’re welcome, but my motives were very selfish. I was concerned for my mother. I’m sorry I thought you might be a murderer.” Sabre smiled.
“I’m glad you cared enough to follow through.”
“Actually, the credit goes to JP. He’s the one who figured out Vanna was impersonating Helga.”
“I’ll go thank him, then. Besides, he may need saving from Mandy. She can be relentless. It’s easier when her cousins are here so she has other kids to play with. Want to come?”
“Sure.”
They reached the pond just in time to hear Mandy explaining about the koi. “That’s Billy, and that’s Sparkle, and that’s Nemo.” She stopped and turned. “Hi, Pinpaw.”
Harley reached down and picked her up.
“Pinpaw?” Sabre asked.
“Yeah, I don’t know why, but my oldest grandchild started calling me that, and it stuck. Now they all call me Pinpaw.”
Harley put Mandy down and sent her off to her mother. Then he thanked JP.
“I got lucky,” JP said. “The truth is if she hadn’t tried to hurt Sabre at the magic show, she probably would’ve gotten away with everything.”
“Beverly never said a word about what happened to Sabre, or I would’ve known who it was. When Vanna and I were first dating, she told me all about her father being the Great Silent Thunder. She told me how he trained two other people he trusted to fill in and help him during the shows. They were both much younger than him. As long as The Great Silent Thunder didn’t talk and wore a mask, all he needed was
someone close in size. Vanna loved magic and she learned right along with the others when he trained them, although at the time, she was too small. Later, she would occasionally fill in.”
“That’s why she had access to tickets and to the show.”
“Were the other Silent Thunders in on it?” Harley asked.
“No, they didn’t know she was even there until they discovered there was one too many of them.”
“There’s something I don’t understand,” Harley said. “Do you know why Vanna was trying to kill Sabre?”
“She wasn’t. She was trying to get rid of me because she didn’t like that I was investigating her. She was afraid I’d catch on. That’s why I was initially supposed to go on stage. She tried some other means to get me out of the picture.”
“Like what?”
“For one, she called in a favor from a friend who tried to hire me to go to Alaska and work, which I’m certain would have kept me away for a long time.”
“What did they charge her with?”
“Assault on Sabre, attempted murder on me, kidnapping of her sister, Helga, grand theft, and a bunch of related offenses.”
“Did they find Helga?”
“Yes, Vanna had her stuffed away in a mental institution in Tucson, Arizona. Your cash lasted Vanna about a year. It would’ve lasted longer if she hadn’t gotten the plastic surgery on her nose to make her look more like Helga.”
“You’re a good man, JP,” Harley said and walked away.
“Yes, you are, JP Torn,” Sabre said.
JP and Sabre sat together by the pond. “How’s Mary Margaret doing?” JP asked.
“She’s doing well. She’ll be going home to live with her mother and brothers on Monday. Her mother filed for a divorce and is looking for housing. Once the church has a new pastor, the Fowlers will have to move. If they don’t find a house before then, the Cunninghams have agreed to take them in for a while.”
“That’s good. I’m happy for her.”
JP reached out and took Sabre’s hand. “We need to spend more time together.”
“I know.”
The Advocate's Illusion Page 25