by Rick Polad
* * *
Rosie waited until he was almost to the front door before she and Steele left the Ford, followed by the detectives from Area South. Charles noticed them coming up the driveway and hurried to get the door open. They reached him before he did.
Rosie held up her badge, introduced herself, and asked if he was Charles Lamb.
Charles very nervously said he was and asked what they wanted.
She introduced the other detectives. “Do you know Amanda Brock?”
He looked quickly at the other detectives, who just stared at him. “Yes.”
Rosie took a step closer. “Miss Brock has been murdered. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
So it was true. Amanda was dead. Murdered. But why were they talking to him?
Charles fumbled with his keys and said, “Okay. I’ll open the door and we can go inside.”
“Okay,” Rosie said firmly.
Charles dropped the keys. Perry picked them up and handed them to Charles.
“Why do you want to talk to me?” Charles asked.
“We’re questioning everyone who knew Miss Brock.”
Charles opened the door and they all walked into a sparsely furnished house. As they walked to the dining room table, Rosie pulled out a ten spot and handed it to Steele.
Chapter 66
Charles squirmed in his chair. No one was talking. The lady was staring at him.
“I thought you said you had some questions,” Charles said nervously.
“We do,” said Steele.
Charles looked confused. “Then why aren’t you asking?”
Rosie waited another minute before starting.
“Did you know Miss Brock?”
“Yes, I worked for her.”
“What work did you do?”
Charles had no idea why that would matter if Miss Brock was dead. “I was working on things around the house.”
Rosie nodded. “That’s what you do for a living?”
Charles hesitated. “Well, yes, but I’ve been out of work recently.” He watched the lady make notes on a pad.
“How did she happen to hire you?”
Wondering whether he should make up something that sounded more reasonable, Charles said, “I met her in a gas station.”
Rosie looked up from her pad. The detectives from Area South walked around the room, looking at everything.
“You’re telling me Miss Brock hired someone she met in a gas station?”
Charles took a deep breath. He knew it didn’t sound good. But it was the truth. He looked down at the table.
“Yes.” He told them about the limo and the man with the gravelly voice.
“And how long have you been working for her?”
“A week. I started on Friday.”
“I see,” said Rosie. More notes on the pad.
Knowing the answer, Rosie asked, “And did Miss Brock always let you into the house?”
Charles again hesitated, wondering if he should be answering all these questions. “No, sometimes she wasn’t home.”
Rosie’s eyebrows lifted. “So how did you get in?”
“Well, there was a cleaning lady.”
“So, she let you in if Miss Brock wasn’t home?”
“Yes.” Charles looked down again. “But not always.”
“So when the cleaning lady wasn’t there how did you get in?”
“I had a key. Miss Brock gave it to me.”
Steele stood up and sat on the table. “Are you trying to tell us that a woman you met at a gas station gave you a key to her house?”
“Yes,” he said in a quiet voice.
“Does that make sense to you?”
Charles thought maybe it didn’t, and his hands started to tremble.
He felt like a trapped animal as he looked from Rosie to Steele with wide eyes. “I don’t know. You’re trying to confuse me.”
Rosie leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “No, we’re not, Charles. We’re just trying to get some information about Miss Brock so we can find who killed her. Will you help us?”
Charles nodded. “I want to help. I liked Miss Brock.”
“I’m sure you did,” said Rosie. “And I’m sure Miss Brock would appreciate you helping us find who killed her. Do you own a gun, Charles?”
He looked upset. “She was shot?”
“I asked if you own a gun.”
He shook his head. “No.” He wondered what that had to do with Amanda.
A sad look filled his eyes. He hadn’t acted surprised by the gun question. He didn’t seem too smart, and Rosie thought she could get him to mention a knife.
“So why do you think Miss Brock gave a stranger a key to her house?”
Charles straightened in his chair. “I needed to work. She said I was a nice man.”
Rosie smiled. “You seem like a nice man. Thanks for helping us.” And she believed that—he did seem like a nice man.
“Can you tell us where you were early Saturday morning from about three until seven?”
Charles looked down and said nothing.
“Mr. Lamb?”
He looked up at Rosie. “Why does that matter?”
“Because that’s the time Miss Brock was killed.”
A look of sadness filled Charles’ face. He couldn’t believe Miss Brock was dead.
Rosie leaned toward him. “Mr. Lamb, where were you?”
He shook his head and said, “At home, I guess.”
With a furrowed brow, Rosie asked, “What do you mean, you guess?”
Charles took a deep breath. “I was at a bar Friday night. I don’t remember anything about that night.”
Rosie looked confused. “You don’t remember when you got home?”
Charles shook his head.
Steele also shook his head.
Rosie continued. “What time did you leave the bar?”
“I don’t know, but they close at two.”
With disbelief, Rosie said, “So you are telling me you don’t remember leaving the bar, driving home, or getting home.”
Charles nodded slowly.
Rosie looked at Steele, who shrugged and tapped his temple.
“What do you remember?”
Charles thought and said, “I remember waking up.”
“Good, what time was that?”
“About noon.”
Rosie tried to hide her look of astonishment. “How much did you drink?”
Charles shrugged. “A lot.”
Rosie made a mental note to check with the bartender. “What’s the name of the bar?”
Charles hesitated, wondering if he should say. But then he realized it had been quite a while since he was in trouble there. “Lights Out.”
“And where is that?”
“On Western, north of Diversey.”
Rosie jotted that on her pad, “Okay, thanks Charles.”
Charles looked confused and squirmed in his chair. “Why do you want to know where I was?”
“Because Margaret said you killed Miss Brock. So we have to ask.”
Charles slammed his fist on the table. Steele stood up. “I didn’t kill her! Why are you saying I killed her? I wouldn’t kill her. She was the nicest lady I ever met!” He was breathing hard and trembling.
Rosie replied calmly. “I didn’t say you killed her, Charles. We’re just following up on what Margaret said. We’ll listen to you just as much as we listened to her. We’re just asking questions. Would you like some water?”
He shook his head no.
“Okay. I just have a few more questions.” She picked up her pen. “How did Miss Brock pay you?”
Charles was nervous. He didn’t want to tell anyone about the money. He didn’t want Sarah to find out. But the lady knew he must have made money if he worked, so it was okay to tell her. “She paid me cash. Twenty dollars an hour.”
Rosie smiled. “You must be very skilled to make twenty dollars an hour.”
Charles would have wo
rked for less but didn’t want to say that.
Rosie did some figuring on her pad. “You said you started on Friday, so you worked there six days, right?”
Charles nodded.
“Eight hours a day?”
“Usually,” he said cautiously. He wasn’t sure why she was asking.
“So, at twenty dollars an hour, that comes to nine hundred sixty dollars. Is that right?”
Charles wasn’t sure how to answer. He could not have done the math. “I suppose. But it’s not all there.”
“What do you mean?”
Looking from Rosie to Steele, Charles admitted he had spent some.
“Sure. How much did you spend?”
“I don’t remember—some.”
“What did you spend it on?”
Charles was silent and again looked from one to the other. He liked the lady—she called him Charles. He had spent a lot at the bar but had no recollection of Friday night, much less how much he spent.
“I’m waiting.”
With hunched shoulders he admitted it was at the bar, but he didn’t remember how much.
Rosie nodded. “Nothing wrong with that, Charles. Lots of people spend their money in bars.”
Steele walked to the other side of the table and asked if Charles knew about the safe in the desk.
Charles responded, “Yes, that’s where she kept the money to pay me.” Charles stared at the pad where the lady was looking and wondered what she had written.
Rosie continued. “You said it’s not all there. Where did you mean?”
“What?”
Rosie folded her hands on the table. “The money, where is it?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t want anyone to know where his money was.
“It has to be somewhere, Charles. Did you put it in the bank?”
Charles was thinking as hard as he could. It wasn’t against the law to hide money. He just didn’t want Sarah to get it. “I don’t have to tell you. It’s my money.”
Steele started to say something but Rosie stopped him. “You don’t have to Charles. But I wonder what you’re hiding. If you didn’t do anything, there’s no reason not to tell us.”
“I—I don’t want my wife to know. She would take it all.”
Rosie nodded. “I understand that. Perfectly okay. And we have no reason to tell her. But you have to admit the situation is pretty strange—Miss Brock hiring someone she just met and giving him a key to her house. If she actually paid you, it would make more sense.”
That made sense to Charles. “I hid it in the bushes.”
Rosie smiled more broadly this time. “Great. Would you show us?”
As Rosie stood up she said, “Just to recap here, there should be nine hundred sixty dollars less whatever you spent at the bar.”
Charles admitted that sounded right and led them outside, around the side of the garage.
* * *
Charles explained that he had put the money in an envelope in a plastic baggie and hidden it in the bushes. He pointed to where it was. They couldn’t see it.
“Would you please get it, Charles?” asked Rosie.
Steele stood with his arms crossed, looking bored.
Charles stepped into the bushes, pushed apart the branches, and reached in and picked up the baggie. Steele put out his hand, but Charles handed it to Rosie, who had pulled on gloves, and they all walked back into the house.
Rosie opened the baggie and pulled a pile of cash out of the envelope. They didn’t have to count it to see that there were several thousand dollars. Rosie started counting.
Charles stood still, wondering what was going on.
Steele stepped closer to him. “Mr. Lamb, you said there was less than a thousand dollars in that envelope. How much Rosie?”
“I need to count again to make sure, but I got three thousand, eight hundred twenty.”
Steele whistled. “Can you explain that, Mr. Lamb?”
Charles had no idea. He shook his head. “Someone else must have put it in there.”
Steele continued. “Who else knew the baggie was in the bushes?”
Charles shook his head. “No one.” He didn’t understand what was happening.
Rosie called Perry back into the room and asked him to stay with Charles. She and Steele walked to the kitchen and discussed the money in the envelope. They decided they had enough for probable cause and returned to the living room.
Steele stood behind Charles. Rosie came up on his left and said, “Mr. Lamb, you are under arrest for suspicion of the murder of Amanda Brock.” She started to read him his rights.
Breathing in short gasps, Charles stammered, “Why are you telling me that? I didn’t do anything wrong. They tell me that when I do something wrong!” His face was flushed and he was growing more agitated by the second.
“We’re just trying to protect your rights, Charles.”
“I don’t need protection!” He was yelling. “I wouldn’t hurt Miss Brock. Why does it matter that there’s more money in the envelope?”
Rosie finished his rights and got out her cuffs. “Because her safe was robbed. Please put your hands behind your back.”
With slumped shoulders he put his hands behind him and Rosie snapped on the cuffs.
Charles got into the back seat of the unmarked car and sat with his head bowed to his chest. Nothing was making any sense.
Steele asked Perry to get a search warrant and to call when they had it.
* * *
Jimmy saw the people with Mr. Lamb at the front door and had taken up his position in the tree house. They looked very important. He waited and watched as they came around the garage and Mr. Lamb showed them his hiding spot. They took the money. He wished he had taken it first.
Chapter 67
Steele processed Charles Lamb. Two hours later, Perry called and told Steele he had the search warrant. Rosie and Steele headed back to the Lamb house with Charles’ keys.
The four detectives entered the house. Rosie and Steele headed upstairs and Perry and Walsh took the first floor. After ten minutes, Perry called upstairs.
“Hey, Detectives, you gotta see this.”
Rosie followed Steele downstairs. Two varnished mahogany chests were open on the dining room table. One held a silverware dining set with knives, forks, spoons, and serving utensils. The other held a beautiful silver dagger with a snake wrapped around the handle. And next to the dagger was an empty spot that sure looked like it used to hold its twin.
Rosie and Steele took the chest with the dagger and headed back to the station.
Just as Perry and Walsh were walking out of the house, Sarah pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. She walked around the car with hands on her hips.
“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?” she yelled.
They introduced themselves and showed their badges.
“Are you Mrs. Lamb?” asked Perry.
“Who the hell else would I be! What are you doing here?”
Perry talked while Walsh stood to the side watching carefully. “Your husband has been arrested. He was taken to the 18th precinct.”
“Arrested? Did he get in another fight? I told him if he ever...”
Perry stopped her. “No, ma’am. Suspicion of murder.” While he explained the situation, Sarah fell back against the car and braced herself against the fender.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
“Are you kidding?” She had lowered her voice, but was just as belligerent.
Perry told her he would get her the station address and phone number so she could find out when the bail hearing would be.
She gave Perry an angry look and said, “Unless it’s under fifty dollars, it isn’t going to matter.”
* * *
Sarah walked into the house, slamming the door behind her and thought about bail. She hadn’t had bail money for battery. She sure as hell wouldn’t have it for murder. She could ask Charles’ brother, but she really didn’t wan
t to. He would give her a lecture about psychology and how you can’t change fate. Sarah had heard it all before.
As soon as Sarah entered the house she saw the chest of silverware and wondered what was going on. More importantly, she noticed the chest with the daggers was gone. Charles was lucky he wasn’t in the room.
Chapter 68
Spencer had left early Monday morning and had spent the day in Milwaukee looking for an ex-husband who wasn’t paying child support. He heard about the murder of Amanda Brock on the radio on his way home.
He stopped at the butcher shop before going home and picked up a ribeye. He also bought a late paper from the man at the corner shed.
As Spencer put the steak on the counter, he noticed the flashing light on his answering machine. There were three messages. The second was from Laura. She said she would call back.
As the steak cooked on the grill, Spencer read the article about the arrest of Charles Lamb that was accompanied by his picture. The article included the supposition that Amanda Brock was a lady of the evening and the hope that the Friday killings were over with the arrest of Mr. Lamb.
Spencer was doubtful. From what he read, Miss Brock was in a different league than the other victims. While it was certainly possible that the killer was the same, it didn’t seem likely.
Chapter 69
Charles Lamb appeared in court about four p.m. for his initial appearance. The judge ruled there was sufficient probable cause. After hearing that Charles could not afford a lawyer, he declared that one would be appointed for him.
* * *
At 8:10 Monday evening, Benjamin Tucker arrived at the 18th precinct station and asked for Detective Lonnigan. She came out in a few minutes and handed Ben the file on Charles Lamb.