by Rick Polad
Sarah was confused. “A stamp collection! What about all his money?”
“He has left the remainder of his estate to charity.”
Sarah was incredulous. “All these years and I get a stamp collection? Are you kidding!”
“No, ma’am. That is how the will reads.”
“But, that isn’t fair! There must be something I can do.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the will is very specific and clear. You can of course hire an attorney, but I assure you he’ll tell you the same thing.” He turned to Marcy and told her his secretary would contact her about the bequest. Marcy left.
Sarah sat, still and dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have another appointment in five minutes.”
She walked out without saying another word.
* * *
Friday morning, Spencer called the number for Steven Lamb’s company. He got an answering machine. A pleasant female voice said, “You have reached SL Metals. If you would like to leave a message we will call you back.” Spencer left a message.
* * *
Spencer had errands to do, but decided to stay home and wait for phone calls. Ben called a few minutes after one.
“You find out about the bushes, Ben?”
“After some work. He said it didn’t matter. He refused to answer any of my questions for a half hour.”
“And?”
“He says the first day he worked, his wife went through his pockets and took his money.”
“How did he know she took it?”
“He woke up late Saturday morning and wanted to take the money out of his pocket and put it where she wouldn’t find it. But when he went through his pants, the only things there were his wallet and the key to Brock’s house. The money was gone.”
“But how did he know she took it?”
“She told him she found it and made it clear that any money he came home with was hers. So he decided to find a hiding place and settled on the bushes. He was happy she didn’t find the key.”
“Ben, how does he know she didn’t find the key?”
“Well, I guess because she didn’t take it.”
“Yes, she didn’t take it. But she may have found it. And she could have taken it anytime he was in a drunken stupor and made a copy to use later.”
“Use for what? She didn’t even know where Brock lived. What good would the key be?”
“Don’t know. But it’s possible she either knew about or had a copy of that key.”
“Are you accusing her?”
“Just trying to put the pieces together, Ben.”
“Well, if you get something more concrete let me know.”
“Will do.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later the phone rang again. This time it was Marcy Jenkins, Mr. Lamb’s secretary.
“Thanks for calling back, Miss Jenkins. I’m a private detective in Chicago working on a case that involves Charles Lamb, and I want to let his brother Steven know what’s going on.”
“Well, you’re a bit late, Mr. Manning. Mr. Lamb died last week.”
“I’m so sorry, Miss Jenkins. Sarah Lamb did tell me he had been sick for a couple of years.”
“A couple? He was diagnosed with cancer eight years ago—actually just before his brother got married. He was only supposed to live a year, and he made it eight.”
“That’s strange. I wonder why she would tell me a couple.”
“Who knows why she would say most of the things that come out of her mouth.”
“I take it the two of you didn’t get along.”
Marcy laughed. “That’s an understatement. We couldn’t stand each other. She’s a lying bitch. She sucked everything she could out of Steven.”
“And he let her?”
“She showed some interest in his brother Charles, and he wanted his brother taken care of after he died. He pretty much brought up his brother after a bad childhood. He tried to make life better for him, but Charles got into one bad thing after the other.”
“So where does Sarah come in?”
Marcy cleared her throat. “Sarah was a good worker and smart enough to con Steven. He bribed her with a rather sizeable wedding check to marry Charles.”
“I heard.”
“It’s nice to see that conniving bitch come up short.”
“What do you mean?”
“I always figured she married Charles for the inheritance he would get. She couldn’t have Steven, so Charles was her only hope at getting his money.”
“Yes, she told me she didn’t marry Steven because he wasn’t her type.”
Marcy laughed again. “He wasn’t any woman’s type—he was gay.”
“Interesting. So, she married Charles to get the inheritance after Steven died?”
“I’d bet my house on it.”
“Amazing. You said she came up short. What did you mean?”
“Ah, the icing on the cake. The will was read this morning. That’s where I was when you called. Sarah was there too. Steven left me $100,000 and left Charles his stamp collection. The rest of his millions went to charity.”
Spencer could imagine Sarah’s reaction. “I bet she wasn’t happy about that.”
“She hit the ceiling. Made my day, even more than the money.”
“Well, it worked out well for you. Thanks for returning my call.”
“No problem. Goodbye, Mr. Manning.”
Spencer sat down at the kitchen table and started a list of who had access to what and when.
Chapter 98
After a two-hot-dog lunch, Spencer stopped at the station. He asked for Rosie and was told she wasn’t in, probably gone for the day. Same for Steele. He asked if Lt. Powolski was available. He was.
Spencer knocked on the door frame.
“Come on in, Spencer. Is this the most excitement you could find on a Friday afternoon?”
Spencer sat down on the corner chair. “Don’t sell yourself short. People would pay good money for this show.”
“Let me know who—might help with this budget I’m working on. What brings you here?”
“Actually wanted to see Rosie or Steele, but both are out so I’ll settle for you.”
“Lucky me.”
Spencer pulled a note card out of his pocket and set it in front of Stosh. On it were three Illinois license plate numbers.
“And this is?”
“The plate numbers of the cars that paid for gas with a credit card at Lamb’s gas station between eight and eight thirty on the night in question.”
Stosh looked puzzled. “Lonnigan said she struck out on that.”
“She did. I didn’t.”
“And your secret is?”
“A little help from my friend Andrew Jackson. People just become more accommodating when he’s around.”
Stosh shook his head. “Okay. We’ll see if one was a limo. Thanks, Spencer.”
“How’s the Friday case look with the D.A.?”
“She says it looks good. He talked till he was hoarse. Good evidence. Should be a slam dunk.”
“Great! Speaking of talking, is it okay with you if Rosie joins us tomorrow? I’d like to bounce some thoughts off of you guys.”
“Fine with me.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Right.” Stosh watched Spencer walk away and let himself wonder for a minute about all the rules and regulations that protected the citizens and tied his hands. He was glad Spencer was on their side.
Chapter 99
Stosh and Rosie were watching Flying Leathernecks when Spencer walked in. He turned to Rosie. “Enjoying the entertainment?”
“What’s not to enjoy?” asked Stosh. “It’s John Wayne, ain’t it?”
Rosie rolled her eyes.
Stosh shut off the TV. “So what’s up, P.I.?”
“I would just like to see if we’re all on the same page with the Lamb case.”
Rosie sat up straight and started to talk, but Stosh
stopped her. “I think we don’t all have to be on the same page given that we’re not all on the same side here.”
Stosh also stopped Spencer from responding.
“Who you working for, Spencer?”
“I’m not working for anybody. Ben has chosen not to use my services.”
Stosh looked surprised. “And why is that?”
With a look of chagrin, Spencer said, “He took offense at my methods. Something about getting him fired.”
Stosh laughed. “Well, I’m glad we’re not the only ones you drive nuts.”
“Glad to be of service. So, I’m left in the lonely position of just wanting to find the truth, without the help of any jurisdictional agencies.”
“Did you practice that speech?”
“No, but here’s one I have practiced. I don’t think he did it.”
Rosie leaned forward and cocked her head. “If you have some good reason for that, I’d love to hear it. Not fond of sending innocent people to jail.”
Spencer took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Follow along and let me know if I’m wrong. Miss Brock was killed with a dagger. You have a dagger with her blood on it, and the size matches the wound. And Charles’ prints were the only ones on the dagger. Someone stole money from her safe, and money with Charles’ and her fingerprints on it was found in a baggie in the bushes at Charles’ house. There was no forced entry, so whoever did it had to have a key. Right?”
“So far so good,” said Stosh.
Rosie nodded.
“So, the murderer had to have a key, know where Miss Brock lived, have access to the knife, and know about the baggie in the bushes. Right?”
“Right,” said Rosie. “Thanks for making our case.”
Spencer held up his hand. “Hang on. Who had access to what?”
“The only one who fits all four is Charles,” said Stosh. “We gonna play any gin?”
Spencer ignored him. “Yes, Charles was the only one who knew about the baggie, had held the knife, had a key, and knew where the house was. But Margaret and her son also had access to the key.”
“Spencer. Where the hell are you going with this? You’re just digging a hole for Lamb. Margaret and her son had nothing to do with the dagger, and they didn’t know about the money in the bushes.”
“I agree. But Joseph has a better motive than Charles.”
“Which is?”
“He was angry about getting fired. And he already stole money. Maybe he wanted more. Maybe there’s another explanation for the money in the baggie.”
Rosie continued. “Okay, I’ll grant you the motive, but there’s no evidence. His knife is still missing, but it wasn’t the murder weapon.”
Spencer shook his head. “You don’t know that. Maybe there were two knives used.”
“That’s crazy, Spencer. This all points to Charles.”
“I agree, but it doesn’t make sense. And I like things to make sense.”
Stosh sat in his favorite chair with his eyes closed, but he was listening and letting Rosie handle the argument.
“What doesn’t make sense?”
“He could have taken that money anytime he wanted. There was no need to kill her. And he put his pay in an envelope and then in a baggie so it wouldn’t get wet.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Brock gave him the envelope but he took the baggie.” He stopped Rosie from responding. “And he felt bad about it. He was truly remorseful that he had taken that without asking. That’s not someone who sticks a dagger in someone’s eye.”
“I agree, Spencer, but you have no idea what that person would do after drinking for four hours. He has no clue what his actions were that morning.”
“I’ll give you that. But I don’t agree.”
“Your privilege. And now, if you’re done?”
“I’m not. I think the key is the key.”
Stosh squinted. Rosie sighed.
“Would you both agree that whoever did it had to have a key?”
“Yes.”
“And how many people are there?”
“Three. And only one of them had access to the dagger and the baggie.”
Spencer got excited. “And therein lies the fallacy.”
That aroused Stosh. “Like hell. Charles was the only one with access.”
“Yes, of the three. But I think there were four.”
“Rosie, wake me up after he’s gone,” Stosh said.
“No, hang on.” Rosie looked thoughtful. Spencer could see wheels turning as her face got brighter and brighter. “Sarah?”
“Sarah.”
“Lay it out, Spencer,” said Stosh who was now sitting up and listening attentively.
“I asked Ben to find out why Charles hid the money in the bushes. The first night after he worked, Sarah had gone through his pockets and taken the money Brock paid him. He needed to find a hiding place she wouldn’t know about. Hence the bushes.”
“And how does that get her a key?” asked Stosh.
“He went through all his pockets and was relieved that she hadn’t found the key that Brock had given him.”
“So? That just shows she didn’t have the key.”
“Right, but it doesn’t mean she didn’t know about it. This is not a normal person. I guarantee you if she found the money in one pocket, she would have gone through all the rest. From what I’ve seen of her, I would call her conniving and sly, among other things. She’ll do anything to win you over and then stab you in the back. I talked to the secretary of Charles’ brother Steven, who just happens to have died last week. Sarah is no prize. The secretary is sure that Sarah married Charles because she knew Steven was dying and would leave his fortune to his only relative, Charles.”
Rosie whistled softly. “I’d call that conniving.”
“Sarah is really angry that Charles is so worthless and has sold or lost many of her valuables, including some of the silverware, to feed his gambling habit. But she had to stick with him because of the will. The problem is, Steven was only supposed to live a year or two, but he lasted eight.”
“Oops. So the brother is dead,” said Stosh. “How much?”
“Millions.”
Stosh let out a long breath and widened his eyes. “Nice. That makes the wait worthwhile.”
“You would think. But listen to this. He left Charles his stamp collection. One hundred grand went to the secretary, and the rest went to charity.”
“Ouch. Bet she wasn’t happy.”
“Nope.”
Rosie brought the conversation back to the murder. “So, she has access to the key. Could have made a copy. But there are some problems here, Spencer.”
“I know.” He looked disappointed. “Go ahead.”
“You can have a key, but you have to know what lock to put it in. Do you have anything that points to her knowing where Brock lived?”
“No.”
“Do you have anything that points to her knowing the money was in the bushes?”
“No. But I did ask her if she knew about it.”
“And she said?”
“Said it was a dumb question. She’s an accountant. Said if she knew about the money, she would have put it in the bank. She said bushes don’t pay interest.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Stosh raised the recliner. “Again, you’re making our case.”
Rosie was looking thoughtful again. “What if she wanted to set Charles up? She did make him polish the silver. I bet she knew his prints would be all over the daggers because he wouldn’t wear gloves. What better way to get rid of him than to park him in prison? She would have all that money to herself. I like running with the conniving theme here.”
Spencer wrapped it up. “So, if we accept the setup, how does that help Charles?”
“It doesn’t,” said Stosh. “Unless you can find evidence for the two holes in your theory, Charles is still going to prison, and maybe to the chair. You have to show she knew where Brock lived and about the money in the bushe
s. How are you going to do that?”
“I have no idea. Ben thinks...”
“Hey! I don’t want to hear what Ben thinks.”
“Sorry.”
Stosh shrugged. “I agree that it makes sense. But we deal with evidence, not conjecture. Without those you got nuthin’, Spencer.”
“Yeah, I know. But I don’t need both—I just need one or the other.”
Stosh started to get up. “Still ain’t gonna be easy. But you have some time to look. The preliminary hearing is Monday, and who knows when the trial will be.”
“Yeah, but the problem is he may not live that long. Charles really believes he’ll kill himself in County.”
“He’ll get a psych eval. Maybe the docs can help.”
“Maybe.”
Standing, Stosh asked, “You guys got anything else? I gotta hit the head.”
“Nope.”
“Then, why don’t you take this lovely lady out to dinner and let me finish my movie.”
“Rosie?”
“I’m game.”
“Okay, let’s go eat.”
As they walked out, Stosh pointed out that it was nice to get a good night’s sleep on a Friday.
Rosie and Spencer continued the discussion over pizza and beer. Stosh fell asleep before the end of Flying Leathernecks.
Chapter 100
Spencer met Ben for breakfast Sunday at Sunnyside Up. Spencer was on his second orange juice when Ben walked in and sat down.
“So, Spencer, you must feel like a man of leisure with no one to take up your evenings.”
“I’m trying not to think about it,” Spencer said with a smile. “But sitting down with a book is pretty nice.”
Ben shook his head. “I’m still in shock over the Friday caper. I wish I could have a chat with Miss Justine.”
Spencer laughed. “No, you don’t. That’s one scary woman. The next time you care about a client, please call someone else.”
“I’ll think about it, but I pride myself on giving my clients the best.”
“And I pride myself on staying alive, something I’m going to spend a lot more time thinking about in the future.”