“Oh, one more thing. Do you know if Beth could write in shorthand?”
“Shorthand? Sorry, I don’t know. If she could, I never saw her do it. Why?”
“It’s something we are looking into. If it comes to anything, I’ll let you know.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how our father was handling everything, but I decided not to.
When I walked into the lobby, I found Detective Spangler standing there. His appearance and look of fatigue a sure sign he hadn’t been home all night.
“I saw you going in and waited here for you to come out. Can you spare a minute?”
Glancing at the large clock hanging on the wall, I winced. “I need to get back soon, but a few more minutes shouldn’t matter.”
“I wouldn’t hold you up if this weren’t important. We have the two guys we picked up last night in interrogation rooms. I would appreciate it if you could tell me whether you recognize either of them.”
“Sure. But Josh is the one you should bring in to see them.”
“We will, but in the meantime, come with me and take a look.” He led the way down several corridors until we got to the rooms.
I’d seen enough TV police shows to know I would be looking at them through one-way glass. In the first room, I studied the man sitting at a table. He looked bored and defiant. I shook my head. “I don’t recognize him.”
He led me to a second room, and I looked at the man sitting on the other side of the glass. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, but I couldn’t immediately place where I had seen him. I shook my head. “I’ve seen him before, but I’m not quite sure where.”
“Take your time.”
The man turned his head, and I got a better look at him. “Wait, that’s the nephew of a woman I did a consultation for. She had been asking me about places she could sell some of her antique furniture. He’d become quite upset with her. I can’t remember her name, but I could check my records to find out.”
“Please do. I remembered you told me about that the evening we went to Mrs. Webster’s house. I was hoping he would be one of these guys. We picked up the two women and are holding them in another area, waiting to question them.”
He walked me back to the lobby. “Thank you, Laura. You all did good work on this, and it was a big help.”
Alex Spangler was actually thanking us and acknowledging our contributions to one of his cases. That was a surprise.
He smiled at my amazed expression. “Don’t get too cocky. You were lucky this time.”
Walking out of the building, I was startled to see my father coming up the steps into the building. I wasn’t sure I could handle any more surprises that day.
“Laura. How nice to run into you.”
We stood there awkwardly before I broke the silence. “I just came from visiting Chris.”
“He told me you’d been to see him before. That was good of you.” He studied me. “You’ve become a fine woman.”
My voice caught in my throat. “Sorry, I can’t stay and talk. I need to get back to the competition.” I paused. “We’ll talk more later.”
Chapter 31
Before taking photos, walk around the exterior of your home and remove anything that could detract from it: cars, garbage cans, kid’s toys, and other clutter.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. Robin and Luke popped in with a cameraman to do their usual chatty check-in. Afterward, I decided to talk to them both to see what I could discover. Time was running out, and soon the production company would be leaving town. After that, I’d have a hard time questioning any of them.
I still wondered if Beth could have been the victim of a random killing. The entrance to the loading dock had been open that evening. As the production assistant responsible for the set being ready the next day, she would have been among the last people to leave. Given the warehouse’s location near the railroad line, a local vagrant or one hopping off a passing freight train could have attacked her. Finding that person would be near impossible.
It made me wonder if her purse had been stolen, which would have pointed to her being killed during a robbery attempt. I’d have to ask Detective Spangler if they’d found her purse.
If Beth hadn’t been the victim of a random killing, and Chris wasn’t guilty, it had to have been someone around her. But who and why? It was one thing doing online searches about the competitors and members of the production crew, but I needed to talk to them. I decided to start with Robin and Luke.
After searching the warehouse for Robin, I finally found her standing on the loading dock, facing the nearby mountains. She glanced up as I approached. Before I could speak, she held up a finger to delay me. Reaching into a pack of cigarettes, she extracted one, and placed it between her lips. It was as though the action of lighting a cigarette took all her attention.
Frankly, I appreciated the delay. It gave me time to think about how best to question her. Perhaps I could use the smooth manner of Lord Peter Wimsey from the books by Dorothy L. Sayers. I had nothing on Robin. Maybe it would work if I chatted casually with her and then act like I knew she’d done something. If she hadn’t, I would merely look stupid.
With annoyance, she crushed the now-empty cigarette pack and tossed it to the ground. Cupping her hands around a lighter to protect the flame from the wind that was picking up, she lit the cigarette dangling from her lips, drew in a deep puff, and slowly expelled it. “Sorry. I needed that, and it was my last one. Do you know a place nearby where I can get another pack?”
I shook my head. “No place close.” Cigarette smoke wafted around us. I resisted the urge to wave it away from my face, not wanting to annoy her more than she was already annoyed.
Seeing the audio van nearby reminded me of our mics. Since I didn’t know if the audio equipment could pick up sound from our mics when we were outside, I reached for mine and switched it off, and motioned for Robin to do the same. She seemed puzzled by my action but switched hers off as well. I looked forward to the end of the competition when I could speak without a technician recording my every word.
“What’s up?” Robin took another drag of her cigarette.
Instead of mimicking Lord Peter Wimsey’s smooth manner, I decided to channel Sue Grafton’s character Kinsey Millhone. Take a direct approach and bluster my way through it. I had nothing to lose.
I stared at her—hard. “I know what you did.”
Robin’s eyes widened.
Using Sister Madeleine’s nonjudgmental tone, I asked, “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
She stared at me as though trying to gauge what I might know. I stared back.
“If you’re referring to my having too much to drink at the meet and greet, I’ve already been humiliated enough about that, so I don’t need to hear about it from you or discuss it any further. Next I’ll be reading about it in one of the tabloids.”
Well, that didn’t work. But worth another try.
“Not that. I’m referring to something far more serious. Wouldn’t you feel better talking about it?”
Several seconds ticked by. When she realized I wasn’t backing down, she emitted a sound of exasperation, tossed her cigarette over the railing, and began talking.
“All right, I’m glad it’s out. I couldn’t live with that hanging over my head any longer. That nasty blackmailer has bled me for money for the last time.”
My ploy had worked and beyond my wildest dreams. Thank you, Kinsey Millhone. But what was this about a blackmailer? “Someone’s been blackmailing you about Beth’s murder?”
“What?” She jerked back. “You think I murdered Beth? Why would I? No, I was being blackmailed for….” Realizing what she was going to say, she abruptly stopped.
Drat. I controlled my desire to prod her, hoping she would continue. When she didn’t, I stared at her and tried not to blink.
“Wouldn’t you feel better getting it off your chest?”
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the railing, probably already regretting her admission. “Sure, I’d like to. But if I tell you, I could end up with two blackmailers.”
What could she have done that she feared I’d blackmail her too?
She definitely needed some prodding. “Now that Chris has a good lawyer, it’s only a matter of time before he convinces the district attorney that they only have circumstantial evidence, and Chris is released. Then, Detective Spangler will start looking at everyone else again. With enough digging, he could unearth what you’re trying to hide.”
Fear showed in her eyes. “It could ruin my career.”
“Look, I’ve worked with Detective Spangler on a number of cases. If I say I’ve checked you out and there’s nothing there to worry about, he’ll take my word on that.” That was a real stretch, and I had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Why don’t you tell me and let me judge whether it is something he’ll dig into further?”
She gulped. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but only so you won’t think I murdered Beth.” She took a deep breath. “It was two years ago.” She gulped again, trying to get the words out. “In the finals of the competition I participated in, I sabotaged the set of the other competitor and won.” Once the words were out, she looked ready to crumple.
Well, that certainly hadn’t been what I’d expected and had nothing to do with Beth’s murder. Or had it? “Who’s been blackmailing you?”
“I wish I knew. It’s been going on for two years. I get notes in the mail, directing me where and how to send the money. It’s a different method and place each time.”
“Why don’t you report it to the police?”
“If I did and word gets out, I can kiss this type of gig goodbye. Better to pay the blood money and stay in work.”
“How did the blackmailer find out about the sabotage?”
“If I knew that, I might be able to identify the leech.” She stared at the empty cigarette pack at her feet, probably wishing she hadn’t thrown her cigarette away in a fit of pique.
“What happens if you can’t make the payments?”
She let out a long sigh and shook her head. “I don’t know.” She paused. “The sad thing is I might have won on my own merits. But I’ll never know.”
Could the blackmailer have had anything to do with Beth’s murder? Perhaps have been extorting money from Beth, too. Then a worse thought struck me. Could Beth have been the blackmailer?
As I walked away, I realized I was shaking. Detective Spangler had warned me more than once about playing amateur detective. My direct approach with Robin had unnerved me more than I realized. It worked with her, although I didn’t get the results I was looking for. I hoped it would work with Luke.
After lunch, I found Luke sitting alone in the common area, finishing a drink. He tapped his foot nervously on the floor as though he were boxed in and wanted to escape. From the look of him, he needed something more than coffee. Could he be experiencing drug withdrawal?
“Hi, Luke. Mind if I join you?” I made an obvious show of turning off my mic. He looked startled but did the same thing.
“Help yourself.” Absent was the charm he exuded while on camera.
Now that I was there, I decided a less direct approach might be better. Start off with Lord Peter Wimsey-like chatter and then hit him with an accusation.
“This competition has been a lot of fun. I’m curious. How did you get involved in the TV home staging competition you won?”
He shrugged, as though he didn’t have anything better to do than answer my question.
“I jumped at it as a way to get away from my job at the time. Still can’t believe I won.”
His frankness surprised me. “So, how has it been having our own TV show?”
He shrugged again. “It’s okay.”
“You seem to be getting bored with it.”
“That’s an understatement. It’s not as glamorous as people think.”
He switched from tapping his foot to drumming his fingers on the table. His nervous ticks were making me feel fidgety.
“Is this competition similar to the one you won? With them being held at different places and hosted by other previous winners, I would imagine each competition would have its own feel.” This was sounding boring even to my own ears.
“Entirely different—no one got murdered.”
“Ah, yes. The murder. What happened to Beth was such a shame.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know her well?” I asked.
He frowned and shook his head. “She wasn’t my type—at all.”
How he’d won a competition and become a TV personality was a mystery to me. It was amazing how he could switch his TV persona off and on like a light switch.
“During the competition you won, did you happen to know Kristin Watson?”
He was beginning to look annoyed. “No, I didn’t. What’s this all about?”
The indirect approach definitely wasn’t getting me anywhere. Time to get right into it. As the British say, In for a penny, in for a pound.
“I know what you did.”
“Know what? You know nothing about me.”
“You know what I’m talking about.” I nodded at him knowingly.
His head jerked back, and he glared at me angrily. “Who told you?”
“No one. I figured it out myself.” I held his gaze without flinching.
“Then you can understand why I did it? And why I have to get out of here.” His fingers started drumming faster.
“It’d be better if you just gave yourself up. The police will eventually catch you.”
His eyes narrowed. “For what? I’ve honored my contract.”
“Contract? You had a contract to murder Beth?” This was even worse than I thought.
He jumped up from his seat. “Murder Beth? Are you insane? I barely knew the woman.”
“If not that, then why do you have to get out of here? And what contract?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but to change jobs. After I complete my contract with Simon’s company, which can’t come soon enough, I’ve accepted a job with another network. It’ll get me into what I really want to do—act.”
Well, I certainly had been wrong about Luke. Or was he just telling a good story?
He grabbed his cup from the table. “Don’t you have something better to do than jump to conclusions? Besides, what affair is it of yours? Mind your own business.”
With that, he stomped off as though shaking the dust of the place from his shoes. Before reaching the door, he turned back and shouted. “And no, I did not kill Beth.”
Well, that went well. Who else could I anger today?
Chapter 32
Thin out overgrown landscaping and plant colorful flowers that go well together and complement the color of your home. Trim overgrown shrubs and trees, especially those that block windows.
Now that I had thoroughly upset Robin and Luke, I thought of the other members of the production crew and what they might be able to tell me.
Emma was in her small cubicle on the third floor, polishing her nails. The smell of polish in the small space was overwhelming, and I felt my throat closing up. I’d experienced difficulty breathing from Robin’s cigarette smoke and now from Emma’s nail polish.
Emma looked up from her emerald green nails. “Hello, love. Have you finally come for some hair and makeup advice?”
I reflexively smoothed my long highlighted hair, wondering if her question was a reflection of how she viewed my appearance. No time to worry about that now.
“I wish I had time to benefit from your tips. Perhaps later. I want to find out what you can tell me about the previous production assistants. Have you been here long enough to
know many of them?”
Emma nodded. “I’ve seen a fair number of assistants come and go. The turnover is pretty high. Being a real dogsbody, they get burned out quickly.”
Seeing the puzzled look on my face, she smiled. “Sorry, love, a British term for a drudge, or as you Americans say, someone at the bottom of the totem pole. They leave to move onto better jobs.”
She paused. “Come to think of it, Beth asked me about her predecessors. I figured she was curious how long the others stayed before moving on and the types of jobs they went to. She struck me as being pretty ambitious.”
“Did any of them mention other reasons for leaving—other than being a dogsbody?”
She looked to the ceiling as though searching there for words and sighed. “You mean because of Simon?”
I nodded.
“Well, there was that too. Although some of the production assistants didn’t mind using him for their advantage.”
“With Simon’s reputation of coming on to women, why do you stay here?”
Emma laughed. “Years ago, he made a pass at me. I gave him a sock in the jaw that nearly knocked out some of his gorgeous teeth. You Americans and your teeth. Anyway, he got the message.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if Simon fired anyone who rejected him. Men like him have big egos. How did you keep your job?”
“Olivia fixed it. Told me that if I didn’t file a complaint against Simon, she would protect my job. I haven’t had a problem with Simon since.”
I thanked her for the information. Afterward, I wondered about her. To be thorough, I should view all of the members of the production crew as suspects, even Emma. She said she hadn’t returned from Scotland until after Beth’s murder. She could have returned earlier, killed Beth, and then fabricated a flight delay as a cover up? But why?
I’d needed to check her out online. Perhaps I could find something that might point to a motive. I pulled out my phone and did a Google search about power failures at Edinburgh Airport. There it was—the most recent one occurring the day Beth was murdered. That confirmed what Emma said about why she wasn’t here.
Laura Bishop Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 60