Death's Door

by Rick Polad

  “So you’re saying that because two murdered people have something in common with me I need protection?”

  When Rosie didn’t answer, she continued.

  “I would think any two people might have many things in common, like they shop at the same grocery store.”

  I decided to try and help. “Sure, they might. But these two people were in different states and clients of the agency. In a murder investigation you look into all the angles, many of which turn out to not be relevant. This may be one, but it’s better to be aware than not.”

  Her doorbell rang and she excused herself.

  “This is going well, don’t you think?” I asked.

  Rosie rubbed her forehead. “When she gets back I’ll ask about the payments. Hopefully we can get some information before she throws us out.”

  “Or calls Snark.”

  “If those are the two choices, let’s vote for being thrown out.”

  Mrs. Bell returned without telling us who was at the door. In a friendlier conversation she would have explained that it was the Fuller Brush man. I started before she had a chance to bring up the two choices. I hoped that asking for her help would lighten things up.

  “Mrs. Bell, there were four names associated with one adoption. The other three were offered the baby, but then were told the mother had changed her mind, so the adoption fell through. Then the couples were approached by Mrs. Peters saying that the mother was having trouble making ends meet and asked if they’d be willing to donate money for the mother.”

  I was watching her face while I was talking, expecting her to react if the same thing had happened to her. There was a reaction, but not what I expected. It wasn’t surprise, it was a look of anger. If I realized I had been duped, I would have been angry too.

  When she didn’t say anything, Rosie asked her if the same thing had happened to her.

  She was trying to control her emotions and replied, “Yes, exactly the same.”

  “And doesn’t it seem odd to you that the same thing would happen to four different couples with the same baby?”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she relaxed a bit.

  “I guess it is odd, and it only makes this a lot more complicated.”

  “What do you mean by this, Mrs. Bell?”

  “A few years ago we filed a lawsuit against Mrs. Peters and the agency for fraud and a few other things. My husband knows more about it.”

  “Did you make the payments for the mother?” Rosie asked.

  She straightened and the stern look was back, along with anger. “We did, but not by my choice. I thought it was absurd. But my husband was adopted when he was six, and soon after that the husband left and the mother was left with no support. She took care of him as best she could, but they lived a hard life. He said if he could afford to help someone avoid that he would. He felt very strongly about it, and I agreed. But as time went by I got frustrated and angry.”

  “You were still trying to adopt?” I asked.

  “Yes. I wanted to give up, but Harry wanted to keep trying… for the same reason… to give a child a good home.”

  “You didn’t try another agency?”

  She clasped her hands together. “We looked into it, but others were much more expensive. From Us was thousands of dollars less. They were all we could afford.” She held up her hand. “Don’t say it… you get what you pay for. I told Harry that, but he was so hopeful.”

  “And obviously nothing ever came of the adoptions,” Rosie said.

  “No, but they kept the carrot dangling. Three separate adoptions fell through at the last minute for various reasons. We couldn’t believe our luck was that bad.”

  “So where does the lawsuit come in?” I asked.

  “A couple years ago we got another letter from them asking for money again to help out a mother having trouble, but it was a different mother. At that point even Harry had to agree something funny was going on.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “At first we just asked for our money back, including all the payments we had made for the mother. They said they would refund the fees but not the payments. Harry contacted our lawyer who filed a suit.”

  “And it’s taken two years?”

  She shook her head and looked frustrated. “Yes, they filed a countersuit that our lawyer says is ridiculous, but the bills keep coming as the lawyers fight it out.”

  “What’s the status?”

  “We have another court date in a few months. Our lawyer says we have a good chance of getting our money back, but at this point it’s probably a wash with the legal fees. He also says he’s about ready to go to the police with the information he’s found.”

  “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this,” Rosie said.

  She nodded. “One thing I don’t understand. If we’re in danger, why aren’t the Green Bay police talking to me? There’s something odd about all of this. I’m going to call them. I don’t pay tax dollars to have someone from Chicago telling me I’m in danger.”

  “That’s certainly up to you, Mrs. Peters,” Rosie said, “but they’re not likely to give you much information.”

  “They’ll give it to my husband!”

  She told us it was time for us to leave. We did, and as we were walking to the car we made a bet on how soon we’d hear from Snark. I took under an hour. He wasn’t happy with us to start with, but now he’d have a citizen telling him he wasn’t doing his job.

  As we were driving away, I said, “It’s amazing that these couples, and who knows how many more, fell for this.”

  “Not that amazing, Spencer. You’re not looking for a baby. It’s a very emotional thing, and they were all pretty desperate. Remember what the doc said about a mother looking for her cub. The same applies to someone looking for a baby.”

  I turned left at the corner and headed toward downtown. “I was thinking of going back to the doc for some therapy. Maybe I should just listen to you.”

  With a big smile, she said, “I’ve been telling you that for years.”

  “And it wouldn’t cost me anything!”

  “Oh, it’ll cost you. It’ll cost you plenty.”

  ***

  On the way back to the hotel we decided to take a detour and drive by the house of Justine Trainer, the owner of the agency. It sat on a hill overlooking the bay, with a long curving drive leading to the front door. Two stories of stone made a strong statement about what money could buy. It was the house of a corporate vice president, not the house of the owner of an adoption agency. Maybe Mr. Trainer was the corporate figure and Justine was providing a public service with the agency. I would have loved to stop and have a chat with Mrs. Trainer. But someone with a house like that would have excellent lawyers, and the ground I was standing on wasn’t too firm at the moment. So I did the wise thing… I kept driving.

  As I pulled into the garage at the hotel my phone rang. I looked at Rosie and smiled—forty-five minutes.

  After my offer of a cheerful greeting, he said, “I got a call from a very irate citizen. I’m sure you know who that was.”

  That didn’t need a response, so I didn’t.

  “I told you we’d handle this investigation. You have no business making unfounded accusations and disturbing my citizens.”

  I pulled into a spot and turned off the engine. “Hang on, Chief. I didn’t make any accusations. I’m very careful about getting involved with lawyers. I only told her what had happened and suggested some possibilities.”

  “You think telling someone she’s next in line to be murdered and that we’re not doing our job is okay?”

  “If that’s what she said, she’s exaggerating things. I never—”

  “Butt out, Manning. I see you around this again I’ll have you picked up.”

  “And charged with what?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  It was never good to get into a pissing match with a police chief, but Snark didn’t appear to be giving this the attention
I thought it should get. I wondered why.

  “I’d be happy to butt out. But your detective didn’t even talk with Mrs. Bell. That hardly seems—”

  “I let my detectives handle things how they think it best, based on the situations. I’ll have you know, Detective Dunsley spent twenty minutes this morning with Mrs. Peters. She was very cooperative and appreciative of our concern about the break-ins. She was shocked about the murders and offered to help in any way she could. Dunsley was satisfied with her statements.”

  “She’s a good salesman.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means some people might buy what she says. But there are two couples that didn’t. They’re still alive, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “As would we, Manning, and we’re all looking for Petrace. I’ve told you what will happen if we cross paths again. Perhaps you should get some advice from your detective friend about interfering with an investigation.” He hung up and I told Rosie about the conversation.

  I stared at the phone and shook my head. “Detective Lonnigan, you have any advice?”

  “None that I haven’t been giving you for years. And since you haven’t been heeding my advice for years, I’ll save my breath, except for one thing that I’ve already said. You’re not in Chicago… and Iverson has gone out on your limb as far as he’s going to go.”

  “I don’t—”

  She held up her hand. “Police departments don’t usually appreciate private detectives telling them how to do their job, especially ones from out of town.”

  “But when they’re not doing their job…”

  “In your opinion.”

  “Do you think—?”

  “What I think doesn’t matter. What you think doesn’t matter either. As far as Snark is concerned the only thing that matters is what he thinks. But I know from experience that you’re going to do what you think regardless. And unfortunately for my logic, what you think has always been right, so it’s hard to argue with results. But you can’t do much from inside a jail cell.”

  ***

  We got settled back at the hotel and then walked to the pub, had a beer on the deck, and enjoyed the beautiful afternoon with blue skies, white clouds, and colorful boats on the river. Rosie bought the beer… she had lost the bet.

  We were talking about dinner in our room when Paul arrived a little before six. He set his notebook and a photo folder on the table. I filled him in about our day and the conversation with Snark. He opened his notebook and pulled out four photographs. He had noted the times of arrival and departure. The first was Sarah at five to nine. The second was the mailman at ten fifteen. The third was a woman who got there as the mailman was leaving. She was there for three minutes and didn’t get past Sarah. We already knew who the fourth would be, so we weren’t surprised. Dunsley got there at ten thirty.

  But there was something we were surprised about. Snark had said Dunsley had talked with Peters for twenty minutes. Paul’s notes showed he had been there for over an hour, and when he left it was with Mrs. Peters. They both got into his car and drove away. He dropped her off two hours later. I told Paul what Snark had said. He just nodded, with little interest. Paul was the best operative in Chicago. His attention to detail and patience had always served me well. But he had no interest in theories or why he was doing what he was doing. He just did it and never questioned what I asked him to do. When I first met him I thought that was strange, but I quickly grew to appreciate his abilities and stopped wondering about the rest.

  As he was putting the photos back in the envelope, I asked him to pull out the one of Dunsley. I handed it to Rosie. “Notice anything?” I asked.

  She looked confused. “Like what?”

  “Like his pants.”

  She shrugged. “What about them?”

  “Same ones he had on when we met him. Same sweater too.”

  “So? A lot of people have favorite clothes. What about it?”

  “Nothing… just noticed.”

  She handed Paul the photo, and he added it to the others and set the envelope on the table.

  ***

  I bought dinner at the pub, and we talked about the Cubs’ chances, the price of coffee, and many other meaningless topics that made the evening go by quickly.

  When we got back to the room the red message light was flashing on the phone. There were two messages. The first was from Carol, asking me to call as soon as possible. I called her home phone.

  “Hello, Spencer. Chief Werth called about an hour ago. There was a fire. The Frey’s garage burned down.” He had said to call him at home.

  I figured we had found Victoria, at least at that moment in time, and told Rosie we’d head back to Appleton in the morning. I knew who the second message was from.

  Chapter 25

  Mrs. Werth answered the phone and told me Chief was out in the garage. She said she’d get him. Rosie sat down next to me.

  “Hello, Spencer. The plot thickens.”

  “Looks like it. Any chance this isn’t connected?”

  “If you mean is there any chance that a person who left a building where she was staying that burned and then the garage of a couple who that person happens to be tied to and may have reason to attack burns, I’d say yes, there’s a chance. There’s also a chance you did it, but I’d say it’s remote.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that. I’ve already got one chief looking for a reason to put me in jail. But as much as I don’t believe in coincidences, once in a while they do occur. And we don’t know about the pub fire yet. The first guess was electrical.”

  “Well, let’s wait until we have more than a guess.”

  “What time did it happen?”

  “Best we can figure, about two. Someone in town saw the smoke. By the time the trucks got there the garage was totally engulfed. They just concentrated on keeping the flames off of the house.”

  “No wind?”

  “Yes, but away from the house.”

  “So the house is okay?”

  “It is. They got lucky.”

  “Does the time strike you as odd?”

  “The whole thing strikes me as odd. The fire seems like more of a warning. But if you have already killed someone why send a warning message?”

  “No clue. And I’d think if someone was going to set a fire they’d do it at night when they’d have less of a chance of being seen. And speaking of not being seen, it’s pretty amazing she hasn’t been. She drove there from Door County, and people are watching.”

  “There’s that luck thing. But you can take country roads from the peninsula to here and hardly go through any towns. She probably knew the Freys work during the day, and given that the only way anyone else can see their house is if they drive by, she could have parked in the driveway and done whatever she wanted without being seen. Even if someone drove by they wouldn’t have any reason to be suspicious. I assume Carol will let me know when they get the results of the fire in Door.”

  “Sure. And you call with yours. But if I were to bet on this, I’d say yours is arson and the one at the pub wasn’t. That one just makes no sense to connect it to Victoria. Why draw attention to where she is?”

  “We’ll know soon. I’ll take you up on that bet for a cone at DQ. See ya.”

  I hung up and turned to Rosie. “You have any questions?”

  “No.” She was doodling on a notepad. “I think I got it from your side. It’ll be interesting to get the results of the arson investigations. One comment on possible motivation, if this was indeed Victoria.”

  “Please.”

  “You questioned her starting a fire instead of shooting someone. Let’s do some supposing. With Stosh and Mrs. Maxwell she had a one on one situation. Let’s assume she did her homework and knew that Stosh lived alone and that on that particular night Mr. Maxwell would be gone, and Mrs. Maxwell would be alone. No witnesses. Let’s also assume she did her homework with the Freys. They’re both teachers, only have one car, and drive t
o work together. They come home and are together all night. There’s no chance for her to get them alone, yet she still needs to do something to hurt them. So, she sets a fire.”

  She had stopped doodling and was rolling the pencil back and forth on the table top.

  “Why just the garage? Why not the house?”

  She slowly shook her head. “A good question for Dr. Long. You’re way past my pay grade.”

  “Mine too. Let’s head for Appleton after breakfast.”

  “Okay. What do you want to do about Dunsley? What do you think was up with that?”

  “I think I’d rather not know what two sleezy people do over lunch.”

  Rosie laughed. “Would have been interesting to be a fly on that wall.”

  “I’m thinking probably not.”

  She made a face. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

  “But we’ll keep that in our pocket if we need it during a future talk with Snark, like if he finds something to arrest me for.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep that from happening.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  As we were deciding on a movie to watch, the phone rang. It was Iverson. It was an electrical fire that had started in the room next to Victoria’s. Halfway to an ice cream cone. I told him about the fire in Appleton. He could call off his roadblock.

  I called Carol and asked her to call Springer and the captain in the morning. I’d tell Werth.

  We watched Raiders of the Lost Ark and turned in at ten. It had been a long day.

  Chapter 26

  There wasn’t much left of the Frey’s garage but ashes, the stubs of studs, asphalt shingles, and charred metal objects that had been in the garage. Part of the roof was still intact, but a good wind would blow it down. We had stopped at the station and were told by Officer Mills that Chief Werth was out at the Frey’s place with the fire chief. There was still a lingering smell of smoke in the air when we got out of the car. And as we got closer to the garage we got the smell of wet ashes. Four men, including Werth, were standing on the gravel driveway looking at the remains.

  “Morning Spencer… Detective.” He introduced us to Chief Warren and two of his team. Werth turned to Warren and said, “You tell him, Chief. I’m not good at accepting defeat.”