“Huh.” I tried to think of possible reasons why the stepfather would put that much money into an account that probably wasn’t earning any interest. “Was she enrolled in a private school and he used the money solely to pay for her tuition and expenses?”
“It doesn’t seem to be the case.”
Larry tried to think of other reasons why Grimacing Grimshaw would need that checking account for Sybil. “Maybe she’s a horse fanatic and he used it to cover the costs of riding lessons and boarding her trusty steed.”
“I didn’t see any cancelled checks for Black Beauty’s stable. And there weren’t any bills from The Jodhpur Shop.” Max shook his head adamantly. “The money appears to have been spent on his personal travel expenses.”
“Boy, that’s pretty cheesy,” I replied. “But why use your stepdaughter’s name on the account?”
“I think we have to consider the possibility that he was using the account to launder money,” Kenny told us. “Do we have any information that seems to support that theory?”
“Give me a minute here.” Larry flipped through several pages of her notebook, searching for something. “According to my sources, Grimshaw was, as Maxie said, nearly bankrupt. But he traveled to the Dominican Republic on January 4thof this year. The ticket was paid for with an ATM bank card associated with his stepdaughter’s account. Oh, hold on. Let me correct that. He bought tickets with that checking account.”
“Did I hear tickets plural?” Kenny sat up in his chair.
“You did.”
“Were the seats all on the same flight?” he pressed her.
“No, they were on different flights. And he booked round-trip tickets. This is odd,” she declared. A deep frown creased her brow. “It looks like he went down there on three separate occasions, each of them about ten days apart.”
“I’m sorry to be slow on the uptake,” Max shook his head. “I was under the impression this guy was still practicing law in Hartford. When he did have time to do all of this traveling? Didn’t his colleagues at Martin, Dubinsky, and Moore notice his absence?”
“Actually, they did.” Kenny told us that Grimacing Grimshaw had run afoul of the powers that be at the law firm. “They weren’t happy about it.”
“But it seems like he got away with it,” I reminded the group. “Was he such a valuable employee that they made exceptions for him?”
“No. He asked for family leave. Grimshaw told his bosses that his wife was in the hospital. He claimed to be working on his legal cases while he sat at her bedside, which turned out to be a real crock. He was down in the Keys at the time and his wife was happily at home in Miami, going about her life. She’s not ill at all.”
“Okay.” Max paused briefly to get his ducks into a mental row. “Let’s review. First of all, we have all the trips to Florida, which were for fishing tournaments. And now it turns out that we have several trips to the Dominican Republic. Was that more of the same? Was he also signed up for fishing competitions?”
Larry checked the information that Homeland Security had provided to her on Grimshaw’s movements through United States Customs. “I don’t think so, Maxie. He was only there for about twelve hours on each of the three occasions. He didn’t even stay overnight. I think that’s why Homeland Security had concerns about him. They saw the trips as suspicious when he went down and came back in the same day.”
“What would he be doing down there if he wasn’t fishing?” I asked the others.
“He could have been investing the money he won in the fishing tournaments,” was Kenny’s best guess. “Most people think of the Caymans and the Bahamas as being tax havens, great for hiding cash from Uncle Sam, and they are. But they are expensive countries to live in. You’re expected to invest your fortune in real estate or businesses that improve the economy. You can obtain dual citizenship, but you’ll have to live there for quite a while before you can apply, and even then, it will cost you an arm and a leg.”
“In other words, you have to be rich.”
“It helps,” he smiled at me. “The Dominican Republic has some attractive advantages over those countries. The government appreciates foreigners who bring their cash with them. You only pay taxes if you work in the Dominican Republic; otherwise you keep what’s yours. That makes it a great choice for ex-pat retirees. Property is still very affordable for Americans. And if you want dual citizenship, you can get a Dominican passport in about a year, without having to surrender your U. S. passport. If you and your money are in the country, it’s hard for the U. S. government to seize your assets down there.”
I was intrigued by the notion that the acrimonious attorney could just up and move to a foreign country to restart his life. “Am I correct in assuming that once he moved down there to start his new life, he would be virtually untouchable?”
“Yes, provided he didn’t come back to the States or use his U. S. passport to travel.” Kenny gave me an approving look. “Grimshaw could have had a very comfortable life living in the Dominican Republic.”
“Is that why he was murdered? The killer had to act before Grimacing Grimshaw fled the country with all that cash?” I asked him.
“It might be a motive, Scarlet.” Max jotted a few things down on his notepad as he said that. I continued to probe the possibilities.
“Does that mean the murderer had a way to access the money Grimshaw hid in that offshore bank after he was dead?” I wanted to know. All three of my companions looked at me as if I had sprouted a horn in the middle of my forehead. Oh, look! Miz Scarlet is a unicorn!
“What are you saying?” Larry seemed confused. “You think he was murdered for his missing money because our suspect figured out what he was doing?”
It was obvious to me that was the killer’s intent. “What would be the point of stabbing Grimshaw to death if there was no chance of recovering the cash?”
I could see the wheels turning in Kenny’s head. He quickly came up with a different theory. “Maybe he didn’t know that Grimshaw had already moved the money out of the country. Maybe he was hoping to recover it while it was still here in the United States.”
“That makes more sense to me,” Larry said confidently. ‘I think it’s likely that the killer realized something was going on with Grimshaw and figured he had to keep an eye on him.”
“But we still don’t know what the connection is between the two men,” Max reminded us. He glanced over at the woman he loved. “What do you think, Larry Bear?”
“We know that the murderer stole Grimshaw’s briefcase and wallet, but didn’t bother to keep them. He was looking for something, but what? I don’t believe he expected Grimshaw to carry all that cash with him.”
“What about a safety deposit key?” Those six words just popped out of my mouth.
“For a local bank here in Connecticut? Hmm....Or maybe in Florida,” Larry added. She seemed intrigued by the idea.
“Anything is possible at this point,” said the head of Mercer Security’s team thoughtfully. “A key would certainly be small enough to conceal in a wallet.”
“I don’t know.” Max wasn’t convinced. “How was the killer going to get past the bank’s security protocols? He’d have to show his identification and then they’d know right away he wasn’t Grimshaw.”
“But if Grimshaw was dead, couldn’t he pose as the executor of Grimshaw’s estate?” I suggested. “If he had the key and documentation to show that Grimshaw was dead, wouldn’t the bank have to give him access?”
“I am once again reminded that it’s a good thing you’re a law-abiding citizen, Miz Scarlet, because your mind comes up with some very scary scenarios,” said the Connecticut State Police Major Crimes investigator.
“Scarlet has a point.” Max tapped his pen on his notepad. “If the money is tucked away in an account that no one knew he had, the killer would have the advantage. By the time investigators found out, he’d be long gone.”
“Is that why Grimshaw kept it as cash? That’s pretty clever i
f you ask me,” I remarked. Larry disagreed with my opinion on that.
“I don’t know if you can call it clever, Scarlet. It would have been smarter for the dead man to buy gold coins or diamonds. They’re easy to conceal and move. Cash is cash.”
“But cash is legal tender,” I pointed out to her. “Gold isn’t. And if you want to sell your gold, you have to find a dealer, agree on a price, and you usually get paid by check, which you then have to deposit in a bank, unless you know some guy who is willing to skirt the law. Maybe Grimshaw put the bulk of the money in his offshore bank, but still wanted to hold onto enough cash that he could flee at a moment’s notice.”
“He’d have been able to move around unfettered, especially if he already had that Dominican passport.” Kenny looked at Max and Larry. “Is there any chance this guy had a mailbox at one of those UPS Stores?”
“Aw, geez!” his colleague from Mercer Security shook his head. “If the guy spent the better part of a year planning his disappearance, he would have been able to control everything that could give him away, right down to the money trail.”
“Maybe those fishing tournaments were part of his exit plan,” I suddenly went on alert. “Maybe Grimshaw was planning to stage his drowning at sea, complete with witnesses. His wife and stepdaughter would get his insurance money and he’d be living the life of Riley on a nice, warm beach.”
“In that case, he’d have accomplices, wouldn’t he, Max?” Larry thought that theory had some potential. “And that would suggest that the killer was one of them.”
“It does have a sort of twisted logic, doesn’t it?” he nodded. “If he turned to the people who helped him cheat on those fishing trips, maybe one of them would be willing to take advantage of Grimshaw’s wacky plan.”
“And just to be on the safe side, the killer decided that it was better to murder him in Connecticut, before anyone was the wiser,” Kenny speculated. “That way, there would be no need to be a witness to Grimshaw’s faked death in Florida and risk having to answer questions.”
“What I don’t understand is why Grimshaw got married so recently. Why bother?”
“Well, perhaps it’s because he didn’t want the people at Martin, Dubinsky, and Moore to try to sort out his financial status. Under normal circumstances, his estate would go to his widow. Margarita. But if he had no next of kin, folks might try to track down his relatives; in order to do that, there would be careful scrutiny of his private life, and that might inadvertently give away the game.”
“Why not just write a will?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that be the simplest thing?”
“Maybe he wanted his widow to have trouble collecting on his estate. If Neville Martin and his partners decided to try to recoup their legal losses, they would go after her in court. That could take a year or more to settle.”
“And there’s also the problem of no body turning up after the faked accidental drowning,” said the savvy homicide investigator. “If there was any suspicion that Grimshaw might still be alive, his widow would have to wait several years to have him declared dead.”
“Boy, this reads like a murder mystery concocted by a really devious mind, doesn’t it?” I wondered if Grimacing Grimshaw got the idea from a Scott Turow or John Grisham thriller.
“Or it was dreamed up by a legal mind, from actual case law,” Kenny sighed.
“Either way, the plotter dotted all his i’s and crossed all his t’s. We’re not really any closer to figuring out who he is and where we can find him.”
“Well, that’s not exactly true. I saw those trail shoes of his in the parking garage when he came at me. He’s definitely a runner.”
“And what’s your proof of that?” demanded Larry. “Maybe he just liked the look of that pair in the store window.”
“The shoes weren’t new. He’s worn down the outside edges of the soles.”
“Ah, he’s got a problem with supination,” Kenny remarked. “That narrows the field a bit.”
“And judging by the knife shoved into Grimshaw’s chest, it’s a safe bet he’s an avid outdoorsman,” I added. “He’s probably even a hunter, given the fact that he managed to evade the Hartford cops with relative ease.”
“Well, he’s probably used to killing animals. Maybe he’s not particularly bothered by this own actions. He may have even enjoyed committing the murder.” Max seemed concerned by that. “A man without a conscience is dangerous.”
“And don’t forget those eyes of his, Larry. They were very distinctive,” I reminded her.
“So, to sum things up, this isn’t as bleak a case as it seems. We still have a few ways to identify the killer, provided we come across him. Hopefully you two will have some luck in Florida.”
Chapter Fourteen
The first thing I did when we got to the conch cottage on Islamorada was to toss all the bed pillows against the headboard and hop onto the king-size bed in the upstairs bedroom, content to gaze out on the turquoise water. Kenny joined me.
“This is paradise,” he sighed, pulling me closer.
“It is.”
“You know, if we get this case wrapped up quickly, we’ll be able to have ourselves a nice little weekend.”
“That sounds like heaven.”
“We so rarely get any time together.” He poked me in the side. “You’re stuck at the inn and I’m stuck on the road.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’d like for us to spend more time together. It would be nice if you could come with me on business trips now and then.”
“Mmm,” I sighed. “I’d like that.”
“And to be honest with you....”
Dinka-dinka-dinka-dink.
Kenny’s cell phone interrupted a perfectly good conversation. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked down at the screen, and frowned. “I’ve got to take this, Scarlet.”
“Rats!”
“What do you have for me, Max?” he asked his caller. “Okay. You confirmed all this? Great.”
I leaned back and closed my eyes, taking advantage of the unexpected lull. I was already thinking about what we would do later this afternoon. A swim was definitely in order, preferably in the ocean.
“Can you give me the deposit amounts, the dates, the account numbers, and the bank names?” Kenny wanted to know. He opened the drawer of the nightstand and found a pen and a small notepad. “Sure. Go ahead.”
I was still optimistic that we were going to get to stick our toes in the sand right up until the moment when he picked up his briefcase and plopped it on the bed. That was never a good sign. Out came the stack of over-stuffed file folders. He laid them out on the bed, careful to work around me.
“Right, Max. I’ve got that address. Is there any indication that the missing money is in the wife’s bank account?”
I leaned over to glance at Kenny’s notes, and as I did, he quickly snatched the notepad from the top of the bedspread and began to scribble some undecipherable symbols that were every bit as mysterious as the hieroglyphics of Great Pyramid of Giza. He kept looking back at me, to make sure I wasn’t hovering over his shoulder. I was too busy trying to snoop to take offense.
“With a warrant?” He got my attention when he said that. Did it mean investigators were ready to do a search of some kind? Who was the target? Was it someone in Connecticut or someone here in Florida?
After a few minutes more of Kenny’s one-sided probing questions to Max, it became obvious that the ex-lawman was deliberately keeping me out of the law enforcement loop. No doubt I would receive the sanitized version of the information Max gave him just as soon as he could edit out all the good stuff. I decided it was time to make myself scarce. Kenny wasn’t about to talk freely in front of me, and the sooner he ended the conversation with his colleague, the sooner I’d find out something new about the case.
I left the bed and crossed the room. Turning the knob on one of the French doors, I opened it and stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of the enticing turquo
ise waters that awaited us. Having spent the last few weeks bundled up against Cheswick’s early winter chill, I relished the warm tropical breeze on my bare skin. Of course, I’d enjoy it even more once Kenny ended that call.
Resigned to reality, I stepped out onto the balcony and sat down on a lounge chair to ponder my fate. All the fleeting daydreams of unbridled passion that I’d had for the past few days were for naught on this sunny afternoon. I was in paradise with the man I love and he was wrapped up in business. This was a disaster.
Whoa! I gave myself a virtual pinch. What is wrong with you? You’re a smart woman with a good head on your shoulders. Why are you moping around like a lovesick teenager, letting Kenny probe Grimacing Grimshaw’s murder by himself? Get off your duff and get cracking, Miz Scarlet, unless you really want to host Edna Mae for a week.
The thought of Larry’s mother taking charge of the Four Acorns Inn for seven days was enough to give me the willies. The Queen of Clean, once in charge of a full staff of professional housekeepers, would spend her entire visit running a gloved finger up and down every piece of furniture and every inch of woodwork in her determined hunt for the odd speck of dust. I’d never know a moment’s peace. My only hope of saving my sanity was to solve the case.
But where should I start? I set my gaze on a handful of boats tied up to the dock just beyond the pool of the complex and I let my mind wander. Most of them were fairly small, designed for pleasure outings, not serious sport fishing.
“I wonder where they hold these fishing tournaments.” I did a quick Google search on my phone. Islamorada, like the other towns in the Keys, offered opportunities throughout the year to compete. Some of the tournaments were held dockside. Others took place on the open sea.
I checked Grimacing Grimshaw’s wins for the last year. All of them came on Siren of the Seas, a sleek Merritt 58-foot sport fishing boat. It was registered in Miami to a man by the name of Johnny Zee. The captain of the boat was identified as Greg Monaco, an experienced helmsman in his early fifties. He and his three-man crew had a long history of success with sport fishing tournaments. They often placed first or second in releasing the highest number of fish over the course of the two- and three-day contests, and all of them were earned on Johnny Zee’s fishing boat.
Miz Scarlet and the Acrimonious Attorney Page 12