by A. P. Eisen
“Good morning, Detectives. Chase, there’s water over there if you want to get a drink.” He pointed behind Paul.
“Thanks.” He headed off to the cooler on the opposite side of the room.
“Good morning, Mr. Devine. Long time no see.” Rob shook his hand, then Paul did.
“The Sweeten case.”
“Yes.”
“Looks like he’s appealing. I don’t know all the details since he fired me as his counsel, but the talk is that one of the members of the jury had a personal relationship with the mother of the victim.”
“Goddammit,” Paul swore. “That bastard killed that girl, and everyone knows it.”
Devine’s grim expression matched his and Rob’s. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie and tell you I was unhappy to be off that case. The guy gave me the creeps.”
Chase returned with his cup of water, and Paul, still seething from the news, motioned for them to follow him. They reached the interrogation room, and Paul and Rob sat on one side of the ugly old table with Chase and Devine opposite them.
“Chase, good morning. Thank you for coming.”
“No problem. I’m as anxious as anyone to find out who killed my dad.”
“Even more so, I’ll bet,” Rob said with a pleasant smile.
Chase shot him a look but said nothing.
“So, Chase, let’s start with your movements on the day your father died. Tell us everything from when you woke up.”
He glanced at his attorney, who gave him a nod, and he began. “I woke up around six thirty or something like that, and was just looking on my social media, you know, Instagram and Snapchat. I texted a couple of friends to see if they wanted to hang out before I was supposed to go back to school. I brushed my teeth and then went downstairs.”
“Pretty early for a Saturday morning.”
He chewed his lip, his face young and surprisingly vulnerable. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”
“What time did you go downstairs?”
“Close to eight. I don’t remember exactly. I didn’t check.”
“Okay.” Paul took down his words as he spoke. “Did you see anyone else in the house—your parents or Josie?”
“I heard cars leaving when I was in my room, so I guess my dad and Josie went out. During the week my dad would use the treadmill at home, but on the weekends he liked to go to the park to run.”
“Did you ever join him?” Rob asked.
“I was at school.”
“When you weren’t. On the weekends, or in the summer, or on break.” Rob’s usual friendly smile wasn’t returned by Chase.
“No, I don’t run. I play tennis.”
“Did you play together?”
“No.”
Paul eyed Chase, but the young man had nothing further to say. “Can you tell us about your relationship with your father? Did you get along well?”
“It was fine. I mean, he could be a pain in the ass, but it’s not like I hated him or anything.”
“What did he say when you stole his prescription pad and were caught selling them at school? And did you ever take his prescription pain killers and use them for yourself?”
Chase paled, and Devine put a hand on his arm. “Don’t answer that. Detectives, Chase is here to answer about his father, not talk about an alleged incident that has no connection to this case. It was investigated and the case closed. You’re not using this forum to entrap him.”
“Was he angry when you went to rehab and relapsed?”
“Detectives,” Devine broke in with a warning tone.
“Mr. Devine, we’re asking him questions pertinent to the murder investigation. If you want him to invoke the Fifth Amendment, then have him do so; otherwise, let him speak.”
Paul had no intention of letting Chase wiggle away without answering.
“He was mad, yeah. We had fights about it. But we always made up. He knew I was trying.”
“Chase, did you and your father have any big fights recently?” His gaze challenged Devine, who pressed his lips together.
“Uh, well, I had some problems, and he got angry with me for fuc—screwing up in school. He threatened to cut off my allowance and take away my car.”
“And did that make you angry at him?”
“Well, yeah. But I didn’t kill him. He was my father.” Sweat glistened on his brow and upper lip. He no longer looked like the arrogant young man with a confident swagger in his step.
“Did you ever say that if he were dead, you’d have all the money you could want? Did you?”
“Detective Monroe.” Devine raised his voice.
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. I was angry.” A look of horror rose in Chase’s eyes. “I didn’t kill him,” he whispered. “I swear I didn’t.”
“That’s enough baiting and fishing.”
“Mr. Devine, we’re trying to find out who killed an innocent man who simply went out for a run. Someone bashed Dr. Ulrich’s head in, and he fell, which caused his death. We’re trying to find justice for the deceased, not play nice in the sandbox with a potential murderer.”
“If it happened the way you said, then it isn’t murder. You might be able to get involuntary manslaughter.”
“Maybe.” Was Devine fishing for information as to a possible plea deal he’d be willing to make, or merely putting them in their place?
“Either way, my client is innocent. He didn’t kill his father.”
Paul shrugged. “We’re doing our job.” He consulted his notes, and it was Rob’s turn for the questioning.
“Tell me, Chase. When did Josie usually do the shopping for the house?”
“Huh? What?” He looked genuinely confused. It was quite an abrupt change of topic, but he and Rob found it worked best to keep the witnesses on their toes so they never knew what was coming next.
“The food shopping. Josie did it for your family. When did she go to the market?”
Chase scratched his head. “I think…Friday? Yeah, ’cause my mom always wanted to make sure we had enough food for the weekend since Josie’s off, even if she lives with us. It’s always been like that, since I was a kid. Technically she had the weekends off, but…” He shrugged, leaving the rest of his sentence hanging.
“What do you mean technically?” He was interested in Chase’s take on the housekeeper.
“Well, she was always around. Like even when she wasn’t supposed to be working. Sometimes I’d be talking on the phone or with my parents, and she’d be there in the hallway. Right outside, pretending to be cleaning or something.”
“Do you think she was listening to your conversations?”
He nodded emphatically. “I’ll bet she was. I’m telling you, she’s weird. But my mom loves her. She tells me how Josie had been with her family forever, so I ignore it. I mean, she has my back, like when I come in after curfew. So I can deal with a nosy housekeeper.”
“What was your father’s opinion of her?” He and Rob wrote like speed demons, flipping the pages of their notebooks as they took down Chase’s words.
“Shit.” Chase snorted, back to his old self now that he seemed to feel the pressure was off him. “My dad didn’t like her at all. He called her the creeper. He didn’t even allow her in his office to clean. But she didn’t like him either. They stayed out of each other’s way.”
“Do you think she knew about your father’s extramarital affairs?”
A red flush crept up Chase’s neck. “I dunno, but it wouldn’t surprise me. It’s not like he did such a great job of hiding it.”
“And the morning of his death, did you see Josie? If so, when?” Paul felt like he was out of breath, waiting for the finish line to appear for the road they’d traveled.
“Yeah, I saw her drive up and thought it was weird she’d been out so early, especially on a Saturday. Like why get up early if you don’t have to, you know?”
“Did she say anything to you? Do you remember anything else?”
“Wait, why’re you asking
so many questions about her?” His face whitened, eyes widening in shock and horror. “Did she kill my dad? Josie? No way.”
“Please, Chase, just answer the question.” Paul appealed to the teenager, who sat staring, slack-mouthed with shock. “Do you remember around what time?”
His brows pulled together. “Um, like around eight or so. I saw her get out of her car and come inside. She went straight to the kitchen. That’s all I saw.”
“Was she carrying anything?”
“Carrying?” he repeated, and Paul grew impatient.
“Yes.” He made a lifting motion with his hand. “Carrying. Like a bag or an object.”
“No, only her pocketbook.”
“Big or small?” Rob asked.
“Big, I guess.” He spread his hands about eighteen inches wide. “Maybe a little smaller but definitely not like those little ones some girls use.”
“Okay, Chase. Thanks. We have nothing further.”
Surprised, Chase glanced over to Devine, then back to the two of them. “That’s it? I can go home?”
“Unless there’s something else you want to say?” Rob braced his elbows on the table. “I hope you’re taking this break from the semester to take a good look at everything. Your mother is really going to need you to be there for her, so I hope you step up to it. Keep yourself clean. If you need help, ask for it.”
Shamefaced, Chase dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mom and I are going to look at a few rehab places this week.”
“There’s no disgrace in asking for help. Is it pills or something harder?”
“Pills. And I’ve been trying. It’s hard.”
Paul sincerely hoped that out of something so dark and terrible, one bright light could emerge.
“Are we finished here, gentlemen?” Devine put a hand onto Chase’s shoulder.
“For now. We’ll be in touch.”
“But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t kill my father.” At this point, Chase seemed more childlike than obnoxious, smug teenager.
Devine whispered something in Chase’s ear, and Paul could see the kid had a million questions, but the tight grip on his shoulder held him back. “Detectives,” said Devine. “Thank you, and we’ll see ourselves out.”
They waited for the door to shut and the footsteps to recede before speaking. “What do you think?” Rob said, dropping into his chair.
“I think we need to go to Ever Green Market and look at their tapes.”
“We’re not going to see her on that tape.”
Paul rolled his chair away from the table and stood. “That’s what I’m counting on. Then we’ll pay the Ulrich home one last visit.”
Hopefully, they’d leave with a killer in handcuffs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The drive to Ever Green Market took less than fifteen minutes, during which Paul reviewed his notes. The vibe between them could be titled: Restrained Excitement. They’d worked together long enough to know the end was in sight.
“Why?” Rob asked. “What do you think her motive was for killing Ulrich?”
“We’ll have to wait to hear it from her. But it’s her. I’d bet my lousy pension on it.”
“Chase convinced you?”
“He’s still a possibility, sure.”
“Paulie, what’s going on? I see the wheels turning.” Rob stopped at the light and turned his head. Their eyes met. “You planning on sharing what you think?”
Here comes the tough part. Rob was smart, and if he thought Paul was holding back or hiding something from him, he’d be furious. But the chance he was planning to take might result in suspension, maybe even his badge, and Rob couldn’t afford to lose pay, not with a family. If Paul handled it himself, the fallout would be on his head, but he was willing to take the risk if it meant exposing the killer.
“I don’t know any more than you do. Right now everything’s a theory.”
The light turned green, and Rob shot him a dark look before accelerating. “Yeah? I’m not buying it. I know you. Something else is going on.”
The bright-green sign for the Ever Green Market loomed up ahead, and they pulled into a parking spot in front. It was almost lunchtime, and busy shoppers streamed in and out; some were with young children, many were senior citizens or retirees.
They unclipped their seat belts. “Let’s see if Colin is ready for us.” Paul put his hand on the door.
“Paul.”
Rob sat in his seat, a troubled expression on his face. “I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t shut me out. I have every right to hear what you’re planning.”
He didn’t want to risk losing Rob’s friendship, but he didn’t know what to do. “I’m not sure of anything yet. And if I get to that point where I am, I’ll tell you.”
“Uh-huh.” Rob’s scowl proved he didn’t believe a word Paul said.
“I promise. Come on.”
They entered the market, showed their badges to the woman behind the information desk, and asked to see the manager.
“Hold on one sec. I’ll get him for you.” She picked up a phone and pressed a button. “Colin, some detectives are here for you.” She listened and said, “Okay,” then hung up. “He’ll be right out.”
“By the way, have you ever seen this woman here?” He showed her Josie’s picture.
“Oh, yes. She’s been coming here for years.”
“Any particular day that you remember?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t really know exactly…” She wrinkled her nose.
“On the weekends, possibly?”
“Probably not, since I don’t usually work weekends and I know I’ve seen her.”
“Thank you.”
A lanky man with graying hair and a bushy mustache approached them.
“Detectives?”
“I’m Detective Paul Monroe. We spoke earlier. This is my partner, Detective Rob Gormley.”
After shaking hands, Colin handed him an envelope. “It’s the thumb drive. I had our tech guy make a backup. We checked it out first to make sure it works. The film shows the entrance to the store and the parking lot.”
“Excellent. This is exactly what we needed.” Paul folded the envelope in half.
“Always glad to help the police.”
“And we appreciate you not making us jump through hoops to get this.”
“No problem.” A glimmer of a smile entered his gray eyes. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what this is about.”
“No, afraid not.”
“All right, Detectives. I hope it helps you.”
They shook Colin’s hand and returned to the car, Paul holding the flash drive like it was a prize.
Once at the station and at their desks, they immediately plugged the flash drive into Paul’s computer and waited for the hardware to configure. They sat at the ready, faces tense.
The screen went dark and then brightened. It was split in half, with one side showing the parking lot and the other zoomed in on the front door. The date was in the corner, Friday, the 4th, and the time read 11:59 p.m. Then it shifted over to Saturday, the 5th, 12:00 a.m.
“Let’s fast-forward to seven to see if anyone’s in the lot.”
“Yeah, maybe Josie thought the store opened earlier.”
They watched the tape from seven to eight thirty, but there was no sign of anyone who looked like Josie. They watched it twice to make sure, zooming in on each patron who entered, but no match.
Paul turned off the media player and sighed. Rob sat, flipping his pen around and around between his fingers.
“Let’s go through what we know of Josie.” Paul gathered his notes. “She was devoted, perhaps to the extreme, to Mrs. Ulrich and Chase. Not so much to Dr. Ulrich.”
Rob moved his pen down the page of his notebook. “Check. She lied about going to the market the day of the murder. She urged Mrs. Ulrich to leave her husband and didn’t approve of his parenting style. Plus, she knew of Ulrich’s extracurricular activities with his gym bunnies and was
not happy.”
“Check, check, and check. Plus, let’s not forget the murder weapon.”
“We don’t have one.”
“I think we do.” Paul’s lips thinned to a mirthless smile. “My guess is that it’s the missing candlestick, and if we search the house, we’d find it in her room, assuming she didn’t throw it away. The house was in an uproar during the time of the murder with all the renovations, and she could’ve easily taken the candlestick. When they unpacked, remember, Catherine Ulrich still couldn’t find it.”
Rob’s eyes widened, and his face split in a grin. “You asked about it yesterday when we were at the house. Nice deductive reasoning there.”
Paul saluted with an answering uptick of his lips. “Thanks. And I’ll also bet you a doughnut we’ll find glass shards in the base of that candlestick from Ulrich’s Porsche when she smashed in the windows.”
“But I still want to know what you were thinking earlier. What you didn’t want to tell me.”
He didn’t want to tell Rob, but he also didn’t want a rift between them. What he needed was someone to talk to… “I gotta make a phone call.”
Phone in hand, he walked outside the precinct and paced in the parking lot, waiting for Cliff to answer.
“What’s up? Everything okay?” Cliff sounded surprised.
“Yeah. No. I need advice.”
“From me?”
“You’re the only one I trust.”
“Paul, what’s going on?”
“I need you to tell me I’m either doing the right thing or I’m being an idiot.”
“Well,” Cliff said, laughing, “that’s a wide scope.”
“I think I know who killed Ulrich, but I’m not sure the suspect will confess easily. So I want to focus on another person, someone the suspect is highly protective of, claim they’re the one we’re arresting, and see if that will trigger them to confess.”