“Yes.”
“So, he didn’t rob you. It would have been easy enough to snatch it.” Larry stared off into the dark, dank distance, lost in her musings. A moment later, she was back. “Could the perp see it when he suddenly appeared?”
“He could.”
“Hmm....” I watched her eyes focus on the elevator. Was she mentally measuring the distance from the elevator to the SUV?
Vinnie decided to try out a new theory. “Maybe he was trying to carjack the Cadillac and Grimshaw fought back, so he stabbed him. You interrupted the crime when you walked off the elevator. Once he was sure he could handle you, he came back for the keys.”
“Hmm....” Larry muttered again. She didn’t seem convinced. “He could have taken the keys without any interference from Miz Scarlet. She’s hardly a heavyweight champ.”
“Maybe he heard the elevator, but didn’t know who stepped off of it, so he ducked out of sight, just in case it was someone who could put up a fight.”
I knocked that one around in my brain and decided it was a poor fit. “I think the murder was personal. There was something in that briefcase he wanted.”
Vinnie studied me carefully, thoughtfully. “What gave you that impression?”
I took about twenty seconds to think about it before I responded. “He came back, even though he knew I was on the phone with the police dispatcher. He’d have to be a complete moron to try to steal the Escalade at that point. All the cops would have to do is sit on the exits.”
“Okay, maybe that doesn’t quite add up, but that could have been his original intent. Is there anything else that stands out for you about the guy?”
“He wasn’t scared.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, you’re a woman who just found a dead body. Logic suggests he would expect you to be scared of him,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“But he showed up after I heard the sirens. He had to know the police were right outside the parking garage. Wouldn’t a normal person flee at that point? No, he wasn’t worried about getting caught. He knew he could get away.”
“He’s cunning because he has experience as a hunter. He’s used to lying in wait. And he’s confident he can handle himself in dangerous situations.” Larry sighed. “Of course...that makes perfect sense. I wonder if he planned the attack specifically for this location.”
“You’re suggesting he stalked his victim, Rivera?”
“Think about it, Homs. If you’re planning to kill a guy without getting caught, a crowded parking garage is the ideal location; there are plenty of places available to you, so you can duck out of sight and sneak away. With so many exits, you can take the elevator, the stairs, or you can take off on foot.”
“That’s true. You could even climb into someone else’s car trunk and wait for the cops to leave,” I added.
“Ah,” Vinnie frowned. “I suppose we’d better put officers on the exits and inspect every vehicle before it leaves the garage.”
“Great.” A frustrated groan escaped from her mouth.
“That’s all the Hartford Police Department needs on a busy Friday afternoon, a massive manhunt in a parking garage during rush hour.” Homs pulled out his cell phone.
“Need I point out that you can’t really let anyone into the garage as long as there is a risk he might take a hostage, Vinnie?”
“I’m already on it, Rivera.”
“Boss!” Detective Bona came running down the ramp at full speed. “They’ve got him cornered two floors up! Hurry!”
By the time we arrived on the scene, the drama was over. The man found in the black ski mask and the blue ski jacket turned out to be the victim of a clever ruse. Not only had the killer forced him to exchange clothes with him, he had driven off in his victim’s 2010 Nissan Maxima.
“We’ve got the briefcase,” Detective Bona announced, carefully handling it as it was slipped into an oversized plastic bag. “It looks like the lock was forced open. And we have the wallet. There is two hundred dollars worth of cash in it.”
“So robbery was not the motive.” That really seemed to bother Larry as she stood there, flummoxed. “Can we be sure that the guy actually left the parking garage this time?”
“Let’s review the security tapes.”
“Okay. Miz Scarlet, I think it’s time for you to take your leave of us.”
“Oh, I can stay if you need me to....”
“No thanks. That won’t be necessary.”
“But you don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I don’t need to know. Your work is done here. Adios, muchacha. Via con Dios.”
“Well, feel free to call me later, after you get home,” I told her. She crossed her arms and stared me down, waiting for me to leave. “Okay. Good luck with your investigation.”
“Bona, make sure Miz Scarlet makes it safely out of the parking garage. In fact, I’d like you to ride with her all the way to the street.”
“Sure, Rivera. I’ll be happy to do that.”
There it was, Larry wanted a guarantee that I would actually leave. Resigned to my fate, I pushed the key fob of my Ford Focus to unlock it. The detective opened the passenger door and slid onto the seat. But I paused by my hatchback door. Better safe than sorry. I lifted it up and peeked under the cargo cover, half-expecting the killer to be curled up there. But there was only my old pair of running shoes, an emergency road kit, and a bag of clothes destined for Goodwill.
“Is everything okay?” Detective Bona climbed out of the car.
“Yes, it’s fine.” I shut the hatchback door and walked around to the driver’s door.
“Were you expecting to see the murderer?” He gave me a grin. It quickly faded when he realized that was the truth. “Oh, I’m sure that guy is long gone, Ms. Wilson.”
“Scarlet. Call me Scarlet,” I told him as we got into the car. “Do you really think he’s gone?”
“You can call me Bona...or John.” He shut his door and strapped on his seatbelt. “And yes, I do think he’s gone. The guy he attacked said his assailant forced him to put on the mask and the jacket before he tied him up. He was lucky. We really thought he was the killer when we first spotted him.”
“That creep was probably hoping you’d shoot the poor guy,” I suggested. “Hey, wait a minute. If he forced his victim to put on the ski mask, it means he unmasked himself.”
“No, he was careful. He made the victim sit in the driver’s seat and threw the mask over the guy’s head from the back seat.”
“Darn!”
“That was a good try, Scarlet,” he told me. “At least you’ve got your head screwed on right.”
Gripping the wheel tightly, I rounded the corner a little too fast. The tires gripped the concrete and let out a loud squeal.
“Take it easy there, Danica. This ain’t the Daytona 500.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little nervous. The thought of the murderer being on the loose is scary. You don’t think he’ll come after me, do you?”
“Naw, probably not.”
That was not the answer I was hoping to hear. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Oh,” he waved a hand in the air, “he’s long gone by now. Besides, it’s not like you got a good look at his face. You wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a line-up.”
“That’s true.” I pulled out my money to pay the parking fee. “There’s no way I’m a threat to him.”
“I have to admit it’s a weird killing,” John confessed. “I’ve only worked thirteen homicide cases so far, but this one seems different. Usually it’s some guy popping another guy who crossed him or owed him money. Or a lady who finds out her boyfriend is making time with her best friend. This one doesn’t feel like that, at least not yet.”
“You know what else is strange, John? When I was in C. Philip Grimshaw’s office today, I was really angry with him because he wouldn’t listen to what I had to say. Every time I tried to discuss the situation with him, he cut me off.”
/>
“So?” he shot back as the parking gate rose to let us pass through.
“What kind of lawyer doesn’t want to make money?”
“I don’t get your drift.”
“I thought that he was trying to get rid of me.”
“He gave you the bum’s rush, eh?”
“It was as if he didn’t want to have to deal with all the rigmarole that accompanies a negligence case. He just wanted me to settle, so he could collect his fee and get onto the next case.”
“Drive around the corner and pull up to the curb. I want to ask you a few more questions,” he instructed me.
“Sure.” I put on my blinker and waited for a break in the traffic before I made the turn.
“Grab that one!” John pointed to a parking spot by The Russian Lady. I backed in, straightened out the wheel, and turned off the engine. “Don’t worry about the meter.”
Undoing my seatbelt, I pivoted in my seat. “What did you want to know?”
“What time of the day was your appointment with the attorney?”
“Two o’clock. Why?”
“I wonder if Grimshaw was supposed to meet his killer.”
“Oh.” I pondered that, staring out of the windshield as the cars roared by. “I suppose it’s possible. He was pretty impatient with me.”
“How long did you stay?”
“I was supposed to have a whole hour with the guy, but he irritated me so much, I walked out about half way through it.”
“How would you describe his demeanor when you first met him?”
“He was prickly right away. He instructed me to have a seat. I expected him to take notes and write down the details of the case. I barely had a chance to tell him about Kenny investigating the Kitanens.”
“Was he a partner in the law firm?”
“I don’t believe so. He might have been a junior partner, though.”
“So, if you left the meeting after the first thirty minutes rolled around, he could bill you for the whole hour and not get into trouble for skipping out?”
“Wow, I believe that’s correct, John. Do you suppose he deliberately picked a fight with me, so that I would go?”
“It’s one possibility.” He pulled out a small notebook and jotted something down. “What time did you get back to the parking garage?”
“It was maybe twenty minutes after I left Martin, Dubinsky, and Moore. I knew I had to pay for another hour’s worth of parking, so I took my time.”
“I wonder if his secretary would know if he had a meeting planned.”
“Why don’t we go and ask her?”
“No, sorry. I’d get my head handed to me if I took you along.”
“You could call her. I just happen to have her number.”
“Yeah, well, I just happen to have yours, Scarlet.” He gave me a wink as he yanked on the door handle to let himself out. “Have a safe trip home.”
Chapter Four
I let my mind wander through the events of the last week as I drove the twelve miles to Cheswick. I took myself back to my first impression of the acrimonious attorney.
He met me in the lobby of Martin, Dubinsky, and Moore and escorted me into the conference room, an ordinary-looking man, dressed casually in an Oxford shirt, tie, and khaki slacks, with tasseled leather loafers. C. Philip Grimshaw wasn’t exactly the average woman’s ideal heartthrob. Maybe it was the dour expression on his face that was off-putting. He didn’t seem to have time for the social niceties one normally observes upon meeting a prospective client.
Things quickly went downhill from the first sentence he uttered to me. I was totally unprepared for his unwillingness to fight for my rights by slapping a countersuit on the Kitanens that would send them scrambling for the nearest hole in the ground.
I admit that I was out for blood. I wanted those two libelous liars, those unconscionable slingers of slander, to suffer, to know what happens to people who prey on the innocent.
“In any case, Scarlet, it’s ridiculous to think that countersuing them for emotional distress and fraud will convince a judge to award you a hundred thousand dollars. They’re only asking you for a few thousand dollars. By the time you get done paying your court costs and your legal fees....”
“We’ll ask the judge to award us those,” I informed him. “After all, they are the ones lying about what happened!”
“In a case that you cannot prove,” he retorted. “Think about it. You’re asking me to launch a countersuit that is going to cost you more money than what the plaintiffs are willing to accept. How is that cost-effective for you?”
“It’s the principle that counts,” was my response. “I don’t care about being cost-effective.”
“Yes, but can you really afford to cling to your principles?” He glanced down at his watch and back up at me. “This case has already cost you three hundred dollars. How much higher are you willing to go to be exonerated?”
“As high as it takes. I will not have someone claim that my inn is unsafe, Philip!”
“Might I point something out to you, something of which you may not be aware? The Kitanens have hired attorneys who only get paid if their clients win. That means that they will come after you with both barrels of that loaded gun. They are highly motivated to collect money for their clients.”
“It is just wrong!” I insisted to him. “How dare you suggest we settle?”
“Scarlet, you can look at this situation two ways. You can be right or you can keep your business. Which do you prefer?”
“I want to sue her!”
“If you do that....”
“Don’t you dare tell me that I cannot sue that lying con artist!”
“Are you here for my advice or not?” C. Philip Grimshaw put down his pen and sat back in his seat in the conference room.
“But it’s not fair!” I wailed. “She should not collect ten thousand dollars for fabricating an event that never happened!”
“She has a witness to the fall. Her husband says he was there and saw his wife slip.”
“He’s lying too!”
“No doubt,” the attorney agreed, “but how do you prove that?”
“There has to be a way!” I turned away from him and stared out the panoramic window of the conference room. In the distance, I could see Talcott Mountain. Kenny and I had hiked there several times. Kenny....He was confident there was a solution. He would come through for me.
“Our private investigator will catch her. Kenny will get the evidence so that she can be arrested.”
“And if she has previously torn her rotator cuff and is using the old injury to shake down innkeepers like you, how will you prove it didn’t happen at your place of business? You’re presuming that any evidence this Kenny person digs up will be admissible.”
“He has a lot of law enforcement experience,” I snapped at him, my patience at an end. “The evidence will be solid. And he might just catch them setting up some other sucker.”
“But that’s not necessarily in your best interest, Scarlet. Consider this. Even if Kenny is able to catch Mimi and her husband pulling the same stunt on someone else, who’s to say it will come in time to deal with this lawsuit? If these are professional con artists and they suspect that you are going to counter their lawsuit, they will be on their best behavior. They may not pull another stunt like this before your case goes to trial.”
“Can’t you file for a delay?”
“Why, because you have pinned your hopes on the idea that they might be dumb enough to try and set up some other stooge? That’s ridiculous. I can file for a delay only if we have a reasonable purpose in requesting one.” He shook his head sadly, as if he couldn’t believe that I was reluctant to accept his legal advice. “In the meantime, what if they have accomplices? What if they are part of a troupe of fakers? Your business reputation will suffer while you launch your defense.”
“Kenny will know soon enough if they’ve been arrested for fraud, Philip! Their victims can come forth and hel
p bring the Kitanens down.”
“If he hasn’t found anything yet, what makes you think he will in a week from now...or a month from now?”
How could I explain my gut feeling to this acrimonious attorney? How could I convince him that Kenny could work miracles if he was given the chance? One look at that sour puss of his and I knew there was no point in even trying. C. Philip Grimshaw would not be moved. That’s the real reason I stormed out of his office. After a week that had quickly spiraled out of control, the meeting with Grimacing Grimshaw was the icing on the cake.
How had it all started? I flashed back to Wednesday at the grocery store. I had taken the Googins girls with me.
“Hey, I know you!” The booming voice behind me announced confidently, just as I reached for flour in the baking aisle of the local Stop and Shop.
Was the man talking to me? With the five-pound sack safely in my hands, I turned to find myself facing a figure best described as a modern-day version of Laughing Buddha. He was dressed in an oversized red flannel shirt that he left casually unbuttoned, affording me a view of his substantial and hairless chest.
“Excuse me?”
“Aren’t you Scarlet Wilson?”
He was at least a decade older than me, ruling out the possibility that he was a school chum from way back when. I was fairly certain we had never met before. Maybe he read the recent article that the Cheswick Crier did on the Four Acorns Inn and recognized me from the photographs.
“Why, yes I am.” I looked him right in the eye, curious about his interest in me.
“Wonderful,” said the rotund, bald man with the all-too-smug smile as he thrust a white #10 envelope at me. “You’ve been served.”
“Served?” I watched, dumbfounded, as he scurried away. What did he mean by those words?
“Scarlet?” My mother rolled her wheelchair up to me as I stood open-mouthed, ready to catch flies. My mind was buzzing a mile a minute. “Who was that man?”
“I have no idea.” I gazed down at the envelope I held in my right hand and noted that it came from Worthington and Howitzer, Attorneys at Law. The company logo was a cannon, clearly someone’s idea of intimidation.
Miz Scarlet and the Acrimonious Attorney Page 3