Art of Deception

by Brenda Donelan

  “Yeah, sorry. I forgot.” Hector seemed genuinely contrite, although Marlee knew he would forever see himself as the real detective and her only as his helper. She struggled with this and knew they either needed to figure it out or she needed to learn to deal with it. Marlee was not used to compromise, so having Hector make the changes was the best solution in her eyes.

  Parking down the street on the other side of the block, the pair walked up to a small brick house. A boy in the front yard ran inside when he saw them approaching. Before Marlee could knock on the door, a man in jeans and a crisp white T-shirt appeared on the front step.

  “Come on in. Sean said you might be stopping by,” Percy said after Marlee introduced herself and Hector.

  They entered the small, cramped house and walked through the living room to the kitchen table. Percy motioned for them to sit, and he opened the refrigerator door and held out bottles of beer to them.

  “No thanks. I’m good. I just ate and I’m still full,” Hector said, and Marlee nodded in agreement.

  Percy joined them at the table and opened a bottle of Budweiser for himself. “I’ve been real happy working for Sean. He’s a good boss and finds us enough work so that I get in at least thirty hours a week. This week is different because of the stolen urn. As soon as Sean told us about the theft, he said we didn’t need to come to work until he called us about a new job.”

  “Who do you think took the urn? I know Bridget McCabe confessed, but do you think anyone else could have done it?” Hector asked.

  “I don’t see how that would be possible. Sean and Bridget were the only ones with keys to the viewing room where it was kept. There’s no way Sean would steal an urn. It had to be Bridget. The only other explanation is that another person got ahold of Bridget’s or Sean’s keys to the viewing room. I don’t know about Bridget, but Sean is very protective of his keys. He never lets me use them on jobs like this where he’s the only one authorized to have access to the thing we’re guarding.” Percy seemed sincere in his statements. Either that or he was an accomplished liar.

  “Did you notice anything suspicious or out of the ordinary when you were guarding the urn?” Marlee asked.

  “No, not really. Security is a boring job for the most part. It’s a lot of standing around waiting for something to happen, which almost never does. There were close to two hundred people that came in to see the urn while we were guarding it. None of them seemed overly suspicious. They were either art lovers or just curious as to what something worth a million dollars looked like,” Percy reported.

  “Had you ever worked for Conrad Thayer before? Did you know him?” Hector asked.

  “No, I didn’t know anything about him. I’d heard about him because he’s rich and his house is like a museum. That’s what I’ve heard anyway. Sean had some kind of connection with Mr. Thayer, but I don’t know the details of it.”

  “How well do you know your coworkers?” Marlee asked.

  “I don’t know them real well. We work together but don’t share a lot of personal information. Sandy was with the FBI, so she should be trustworthy. Derek is a friend of Sean’s, and he helps us out from time to time. I don’t know much else about him.” Percy’s voice changed tone and he looked away from Marlee.

  “What do you think of Derek? I gather you don’t have the best impression of him,” Marlee said, commenting on the change in Percy’s body language as he spoke about his male coworker.

  “It’s not that I don’t like him, I just don’t know him that well. He and Sean are best buddies, so I would never say anything negative about him to Sean, but…” Percy’s voice trailed off, leaving a clearer picture of his view of Derek by his unspoken words than those said out loud.

  “What is it? Is he untrustworthy? Lazy? An idiot?” Hector asked, trying to stumble upon the correct label, thus making it easier for Percy.

  “All of the above,” said Percy with a half grin. “Well, maybe not an idiot. I think Derek’s actually quite clever. He can always figure out how to get the best jobs for himself and push the more boring work off on Sandy and me.”

  “Do you think he could’ve taken the urn?” Marlee was on the edge of her seat, hoping against hope that she might finally have another suspect in the theft.

  “He never had the opportunity, but yeah, I think he might take something if he thought he could get away with it. Like I said, Sean is the only one from Yellow Tail Security that had the keys to get to the viewing room, so Derek couldn’t have done it.”

  “Why do you think he and Sean are such good friends if he’s as big of a creep as you say?” Marlee had a high opinion of Sean, yet she questioned his judgment if he hung around with a known thief. Then she remembered, Sean himself had been accused of stealing, or at least hiding, evidence dealing with a police case.

  “Sean’s a loyal guy. He and Derek go way back. They never said as much, but I think Sean feels an obligation toward Derek, so he cuts him some slack that he wouldn’t allow other employees. Percy peeled bits and pieces of the label from his beer bottle and placed them on the table.

  “Do you know why Sean left the Police Department?” Hector asked.

  “Sean told me he wanted to go out on his own and try something a little different. You know, be his own boss and not have to worry so much about the headaches of being a police officer.”

  “Did you hear anything about him being pushed out of the PD for questionable behavior?” Marlee asked.

  “Yeah, I heard some rumors but no specifics. Sean never told me anything about it. There was some scuttlebutt going around the station about the time I left.” Percy continued picking at the Budweiser label from the bottle.

  “What are your thoughts on Sean’s trustworthiness? Do you think he might swipe the urn and try to pin it on somebody else?” Hector asked.

  “I don’t know about the situation at the PD that he got in trouble over. I heard that was about getting rid of some evidence that implicated one of his relatives. Honestly, I could see him doing something like that out of family loyalty. But stealing for money? No, I don’t think so.”

  “If Derek only works off and on for Sean, what does he do with the rest of his time? Where does he work?” Marlee asked.

  “He doesn’t work. He gets disability payments, but I don’t know what his injury or illness is. He seems perfectly healthy and able-bodied to me. I tried to ask him about it once and he wouldn’t give me any straightforward answers.”

  Marlee furrowed her brow. Percy’s account of Derek’s employment, or lack thereof, conflicted with Sean’s story. She thought about the possibility that Derek was faking an illness or injury to get government payments so he didn’t have to work. Back when she was a probation officer, she had a guy on supervision that did just that. He had been in a car accident years earlier and was able to receive disability payments because of the severe injury to his back. Meanwhile, he set up his own tree stump removal business, a labor-intensive job. His attempt to rip off Uncle Sam had earned him another trip to prison.

  Hector and Marlee were out of questions, and Percy seemed to have told them everything he wanted to. She knew he had more information, but was not ready to share it at this point. I’ll come back to him in a day or two after he’s had some time to think. Maybe he’ll be more forthcoming then, Marlee thought.

  A trickle of sweat ran down Marlee’s back as they drove back to her house, even though the outside temperature hovered around zero. She was worried Hector would initiate the talk about their relationship again, and she didn’t want to discuss it further tonight. She adjusted the temperature and the fan, providing cool air to her overheated face and body.

  Back at the house, Marlee broke out the bottles of beer, and they settled around the table and peered at the crime chart. They added the names of Sean and his three employees. They still needed to talk with Derek Geppert, and Hector said he could do it the next morning while she was in class. “I’ll be done by early afternoon tomorrow, so just wait for me, a
nd we can talk to him together,” she said.

  “I’m tired of thinking about this case. My mind needs to get away from it for a while so it can sort things out. Let’s watch TV,” Hector suggested.

  “Sounds like a great idea.” Marlee jumped up from the table, and they moved to the living room, both sitting on the overstuffed couch. She grabbed the remote control and began flipping through channels. They scrolled through the never-ending lineup of stupid sitcoms, scripted reality shows, and advertisements designed to make people believe they were fat, ugly, and unworthy. They finally decided on Law & Order SVU and settled in to watch the crime drama.

  “The lady with the short hair set everything up,” Hector said, pointing at the television with his beer bottle.

  “No, it’s the neighbor kid. He’s guilty as hell,” Marlee countered as they competed to see who could solve the case first.

  “The neighbor kid is too obvious. It’s what they want you to think. Besides, he doesn’t seem smart enough to get the pastor fired.” Hector was ready to do battle and turned to look at Marlee as he argued his point. “Plus, the kid was in school when it happened.”

  “Don’t think so. He said he was in school, but guess what? Kids lie. Plus, his stupidity is an act. He’s the one who…” The doorbell interrupted Marlee’s theory of the crime on the show.

  Kathleen appeared rattled as she entered the living room and sat in a chair near the couch. “What’s wrong, Kathleen? You don’t look so hot. What’s going on with Bridget?” Questions tumbled out of Marlee’s mouth.

  “Bridget is at my house now, but she won’t say much about her case. She asked how you were and if you’d been questioned. I told her you had, but didn’t go into detail. She’s staying in the spare bedroom on the ground floor and has been in there all afternoon and evening. She didn’t even want any supper. I heard her crying, and I knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer. I don’t know what to do.” Kathleen wrung her hands and then eagerly accepted the glass of white wine offered to her.

  “You’re already doing everything you can, Kathleen. You went above and beyond the call of friendship by being her third-party custodian and letting her stay at your house indefinitely. As far as what you can do for her emotionally, just let her know you’re there to listen. Her lawyer probably told her not to talk to you about her case, so she can’t discuss that,” Marlee said, reassuring her friend.

  “There are plenty of things you can do with Bridget to keep her mind off the case. You can watch TV together, play board games, make crafts, and cook meals,” Hector suggested. “Anything to keep her mind off the shitty situation she’s in.”

  “That’s true. I just didn’t know what to say if we can’t talk about her case. I’ll get her started on my Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs. She can watch them while I’m on campus, and then we can discuss them when I get home.” Kathleen brightened now that she had a plan.

  “Bridget will love that. Anything to do with movies or television will capture her attention.” Marlee smiled at Kathleen, so grateful that her friend had been willing to take responsibility for Bridget so she didn’t have to linger in jail.

  After a few minutes of campus gossip, Kathleen was calm and in control. When she left, Marlee and Hector resumed watching their program. Within a few minutes, Hector had nodded off, his feet up on the coffee table. Marlee covered him up with her fleece kitty-cat blanket and turned off the television.

  It was time for her to go to bed too, but she had something else planned. Marlee pulled on her coat and grabbed her house keys before slipping out the back door and into the night.

  The House on the Rock in Wisconsin has the most eclectic conglomeration of collectibles I’ve ever seen. Conrad Thayer’s house is a close second.

  Chapter 13

  Kathleen’s house was only a few blocks away, so it was a quick walk over there. During their visit a half hour earlier, Kathleen commented on how emotionally drained and physically tired she was and that her intention was to go straight to bed when she got home.

  Marlee walked to the side of Kathleen’s white, ranch style home and lightly knocked on a window. The house was dark, both Kathleen and Bridget were in bed. Within seconds, Bridget’s pale, tear-stained face appeared. She pushed up the window and stared at Marlee in disbelief. “You can’t be here. I could go back to jail if anyone sees you,” she whispered.

  “I know. That’s why you need to move away from the window and let me in. Marlee gave a bit of a hop jump and managed to get the front half of her body through the open window. She didn’t have the upper body strength to pull herself through, so she hung there with her legs flailing outside the window while she was inside the house from the waist on up.

  “Here, let me help,” Bridget said as she grabbed Marlee by the arms and tugged. “Jesus, you’re heavier than you look!”

  “Thanks a lot. That’s really what I need to hear from you right now,” Marlee growled, as she fell on the floor in Kathleen’s spare room.

  “Sorry. Thanks for coming to help, but I can’t talk to you. My lawyer said not to talk to anyone about the case. And the judge was very clear about not having any contact with you at all. You have to leave!” The court system had made an impression on Bridget, and she was keen to follow the rules.

  “Shush. Lower your damn voice. We don’t want to wake Kathleen up. She can’t know that I’m here either since she has to report your violations to the judge.” Marlee closed the window and Bridget sank onto the bed strewn with sheets, blankets, and pillows.

  “But I can’t talk to you. Not at all,” Bridget said in a whisper.

  Marlee sat on the bed beside her and did her best to keep her voice down. “You don’t have to tell me the whole story. Just answer my questions. I’ll leave in a few minutes, and no one will ever know I was here.”

  Bridget nodded and covered herself with a loose blanket from the bed.

  “Why did you confess to taking the antique urn?” Marlee asked the most important question first, knowing she had limited time to talk with her cousin.

  “Because I did take it.” Bridget was keeping her answers short as she looked down at the floor.

  Marlee was in disbelief. She thought when she talked to her cousin face to face that Bridget would say it was a big misunderstanding or that she was tricked. “Why would you take an urn?”

  “It’s worth a million dollars and I need the money,” Bridget said.

  “What do you need the money for?”

  “I don’t want to get into that.”

  “Bridget, did you hide the urn at my house?” Marlee asked.

  “Yeah. I thought it was safer than hiding it at mine. Sorry the police questioned you about it. I didn’t think anyone would find out before…” Bridget’s voice trailed off.

  “Before what?”

  “Never mind. That’s all I want to say. You have to go now before we get caught, and I get hauled back to jail,” Bridget said as she rose from the bed and walked toward the window.

  “One more thing.” Marlee was stalling for time. “Who else is involved?”

  “I’m not getting anyone else in trouble over this. I stole the urn, and I’ll take the punishment for it. You don’t need to worry about me. I know what I’m doing, and I’m not afraid.” Every aspect of Bridget’s appearance and demeanor suggested otherwise.

  Realizing their conversation was at an end, Marlee prepared to jump out the window into the alley. “I’m meeting Conrad Thayer at his house tomorrow for drinks.”

  “No! You can’t go over there, Marlee. I can’t tell you why, but you have to trust me. Do not go over to Conrad’s house!” Bridget’s raised voice brought about sounds on the other side of her bedroom door.

  Marlee jumped into the alley, not responding to her cousin’s directive. As she turned to walk back onto the street, she saw a light flick on in another bedroom. Kathleen must have heard the disturbance and was going to see if Bridget needed anything. Marlee did a fast walk back to her house and
slipped inside. She was ready for Hector to appear out of nowhere as he had done earlier that evening. Not a sound came from inside the house.

  She checked on Hector and saw he was lying on his back on the couch with the blanket around his shoulders while his feet stuck out. She found another blanket and covered up his feet, knowing how hard it could be to get a good sleep with chilly feet. Pippa sat on the back of the couch staring at Hector. If he woke in the night and saw her eyes glaring at him, he probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Pippa was very protective of Marlee and not used to people taking the attention away from her precious Persian self.

  Marlee changed into her usual sleepwear, a black Guns-n-Roses concert T-shirt and a pair of purple flannel sleep pants. It wasn’t pretty, but it was comfy, and that’s what counted most to the exhausted professor at that time. She set her alarm for 7:00 a.m. and drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning when her alarm rang, she reached over to the other side of the bed, intent on hitting the snooze button. Instead, she smacked her hand against Hector’s head.

  “Ow!” he growled as he rolled over to glare at her.

  “What are you doing in my bed?” Marlee sat straight up and squinted at him. Her glasses were on the night stand, and she never slept in her contact lenses.

  “I’m not sleeping any more, that’s for sure.” Hector rubbed the side of his head where Marlee slapped him. He reached over and turned off the blaring alarm.

  “Sorry, I thought you were my alarm clock. Wasn’t the couch comfortable?”

  Hector squinted back at her. His glasses were also on the nightstand. “I like Pippa, but when I woke up to use the can, she was staring at me. And she wouldn’t stop staring. Every time I opened my eyes, she was looking at me with those piercing gold eyes. She didn’t blink once. I don’t think she would suffocate me in my sleep, but I just couldn’t take that chance. You were sleeping like a log, so I just nestled in here beside you.”