by A. P. Eisen
Cliff whistled low. “That’s a huge chance. What if it backfires?”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t.”
“That’s a lot of hoping on your part that it all comes through as you want it.”
“Yeah.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “And if I fuck it up, I can get suspended.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because I know she did it, but I don’t have enough evidence yet. Just a bunch of circumstantial facts. And I want to keep Rob out of it. I can afford a month or so without pay. He can’t.”
“Shit. You mean you haven’t told Rob any of this?”
“No,” he said feeling miserable. “I’m doing what I think is best.”
“Don’t you think Rob should have a say in what to do? It’s his case too. Just as much as it is yours.”
“I’m trying to protect him so he doesn’t get in trouble.”
“I don’t think you’re doing the right thing. Your job isn’t to protect him; you’re partners and supposed to make decisions together. You’re not his boss.”
Cliff was right. And if the shit did hit the fan, Paul would be sure to march into Kraft’s office and offer himself up as the sacrifice.
“Thanks,” he said softly. “It’s great to have you to talk to. You really helped me.”
“Anytime.”
“Bye.”
He shoved the phone into his pocket and returned inside. Rob was on his phone, texting, but when he saw Paul, he set the phone screen-side down on the desk.
Paul sat down and rolled his chair closer to Rob’s desk. “Okay. I didn’t want to bring you in on this because what I want to do is risky; if we fail, there’s a chance we might get suspended or Kraft might ask for our badges.”
Eyes wide, Rob steepled his fingers under his chin. “Tell me.”
Paul repeated what he told Cliff. “So what do you think?”
Rob whistled low. “I think it’s fucking brilliant, and if you hadn’t told me, I woulda kicked your ass when I did find out.” The steely edge of his voice left Paul no doubt that if he’d kept his thoughts from Rob, it would’ve hurt their relationship.
“If we fail, I want you to promise to let me go to Kraft and take the blame.”
“No fucking way.” Rob’s words spit out like bullets, but Paul remained undeterred.
“You have a family to take care of. I couldn’t forgive myself if I got you suspended, or worse, fired.”
“But it’s not up to you to make that decision for me. I’m your partner. You’re not responsible for me.”
Paul knew his idea was their best chance of breaking down Josie, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect Rob. “What can we do?”
Rob said, “Our jobs and hope for the best. Hope that Mrs. Ulrich understands the whys of our actions.”
“I’m going to call the house and make sure everyone is there.” The number had become almost as familiar as his own.
“Detective, really? Again? I thought your meeting with Chase settled everything. I heard you had some ridiculous notion that Josie was involved. My God, how desperate are you to pin this murder on someone easy and not do the work to find the real killer?”
“Mrs. Ulrich, we don’t plan to do this again. Is Chase at home?”
“Yes, but I want his lawyer here.”
“Call Mr. Devine and tell him we’re coming over.”
“But—”
“We’ll see you in half an hour.” With her protests ringing in his ears, he ended the call and turned to Rob. “Are you ready?”
Rob’s answering grin matched his own. “Let’s go get her.”
They coordinated their actions on the road to the Ulriches’. When they rang the bell, the door was immediately yanked open to reveal an extremely angry Catherine Ulrich.
“If you think you’re going to get away with mistreating my son, you’re sadly mistaken. You’re going to regret this.”
“Ma’am, can we all please sit down? Is Chase here?”
“Yes. I’m waiting for the attorney. I called him as soon as I finished speaking to you.”
On cue, a black Lexus pulled up behind their shabby, city-owned sedan. Devine whipped out of the car and stormed over to the front door to join them.
“What the hell is this, Detectives? I thought everything was settled when we left this morning.”
Paul motioned to the house. “Let’s step inside.”
The four of them trooped into the hallway. As Paul expected, Josie hovered in the background.
Chase stood at the top of the stairs. “What’s going on?” His eyes bugged out in shock, and he froze on the steps. “Why are the cops here?”
“We know who the murderer is. We know who picked up a blunt object and slammed it into the base of Dr. Ulrich’s head, causing him such trauma that he fell forward and smashed his brain onto the root of the tree.”
Catherine buried her face in her hands and wept, and Chase turned white.
“Chase. Do you want to say anything to us?”
“What? What the fuck? I didn’t do it.” As Paul had hoped, Chase ran down the stairs to join their group. “You’re crazy. I thought after this morning—”
“Don’t lie anymore. We know the truth. And you’re going to jail.”
“No,” Catherine Ulrich screamed, “you can’t do this to him.”
“Yes, we can.” He kept his eyes on Josie, whose mouth hung open in horror. “Chase is going to jail, and he may never come out. He may get twenty years to life.”
Devine grew red-faced. “You have no evidence. He’ll never get convicted. Chase, don’t say anything.”
“Yes, he will. He’ll be put in handcuffs and then spend time in county jail.”
“With all the drug addicts and murderers? No. I can’t stand it. No.” She grabbed herself around her waist and began to shake. “I’ll die. I won’t be able to live.”
“Catherine, don’t say that.” Josie rushed to her side. “It will be okay.” She reached over to pat Catherine on the shoulder, but her hand was knocked away.
“Okay? How can you say something so stupid?” Catherine spit out. “It won’t be okay. Didn’t you hear them?”
Josie’s face tightened. “I was trying to help.”
“There’s no help. They’re trying to pin this on Chase instead of the animal who did it. First my husband, now my child. I don’t know what to do. How am I going to live without them both? I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Chase won’t go to jail. Don’t worry,” Josie attempted to soothe her employer.
Paul watched the scene unfold.
“How can you say that?” Catherine screamed at Josie. “He’ll never survive prison. You know what goes on in there. And I’ll be all alone. First Dean and now my son. What am I going to do?” she moaned. “I’m all alone.”
“I’ll be here with you. I won’t leave you.”
Hysterical now, she turned on Josie. “You? I don’t care. You’re not my family. I want my husband back. I miss him so much. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“But he treated you so badly. He didn’t deserve you.”
Catherine Ulrich pushed the hair out of her eyes. “What are you talking about? How can you say that? And who are you to talk to me like that?”
Josie’s dark eyes burned with an almost fanatical fever, and Paul and Rob exchanged glances.
“He cheated on you with men. He made you sleep with other men. How could you love him? Everything I did was for you.”
Paul’s heart thundered in his chest.
“You’re saying crazy things.”
Devine broke in. “Josie, I advise you not to say anything further.”
Josie ignored him. “He laughed at me when I told him he needed to stop treating you like a whore. He didn’t like it when I told him he was a terrible father to our Chase.”
“ ‘Our Chase’? What are you saying? Josie?” A horrified expression crossed Catherine Ulrich’s face, and she backed away.
“No,” Catherine whispered. “No, no, Josie, you killed him?”
“Yes. I was happy to do it for you. Now you can live your life and don’t have to be ashamed of him and what he made you do. I did it for you, Catherine.”
“You? How could you? How could you?” Catherine Ulrich crumpled to the ground, and Josie reached out to grab hold of her.
“Get your hands off my mom, you crazy bitch.” Chase pushed her hard enough that she stumbled and fell against the banister.
Paul winced as he knew that must’ve hurt, but the adrenaline rushing through Josie probably numbed her to the pain.
“You ungrateful, spoiled brat. How dare you speak to me like that after everything I’ve done for you?” She launched herself at Chase with a scream and raked her nails down his cheek. Thin lines of blood welled from the scratches, and reflexively, Chase flung his arm out to ward her off, but she came after him again.
“Let’s go,” Paul said, jumping into action. “Devine, deal with Mrs. Ulrich.” He grabbed Josie by one arm while Rob took the other and they pulled her away.
“Let me go! She needs me. She needs me.” Her screams echoed in the hall.
From the safe space between Devine and Chase, Catherine Ulrich shot Josie a hateful look. “I hope you die for what you’ve done.”
“Josie Warner, you’re under arrest for the murder of Dr. Dean Ulrich.” After Mirandizing her, Rob snapped the cuffs on her. “Do you want an attorney?”
“No,” she said dully. “I did it for her. She doesn’t understand. She’s better without him. Now I can take care of her.”
Rob called for backup, and Paul, leaving Josie with him for a moment, walked over to the Ulriches and Devine.
“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Ulrich. We didn’t suspect Chase, but we wanted to shock Josie into confessing.” He lowered his voice. “I take full responsibility for this.”
With the help of Chase and Devine, Catherine Ulrich stood, and through her tears, with her hands on her hips, blasted him. “How could you put him through this? You should be fired. I’m going to—”
“Mom, no. Stop.” Chase stepped in to cut her off. The blood had stopped seeping out of the scratches, and he looked much younger than his nineteen years. Despite the earlier cocky bravado and past behavior, Paul did feel sorry for the kid. He had lost his father.
“Look what they put you through, threatening you with jail, when they knew it wasn’t true. Jake, can’t they be fired for that?”
Paul tensed but met Devine’s gaze without shame.
Devine rubbed his chin, his expression grim. “Most likely. But is that what you want? On the record, as a defense attorney, I don’t approve of this at all, Monroe. Off the record?” He shrugged. “Good call.”
Paul remained silent.
“Mom, it’s okay.” Chase pulled her away, but Paul could still hear their conversation. “They used me to bait her because they knew she did it. And in the end, they were right, and they got the person who killed Dad. And after all the shit I’ve put you through lately, maybe I deserved to be scared to death.”
Her gaze shifted from Chase to Devine. “I don’t know. It’s not right to do what they did.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer. He and Rob pulled an unprotesting Josie out through the front door as the squad car pulled up.
Arnie Stubbs and his partner, Ron DeLeon, climbed out of the car. “What’ve you got, Detectives?”
“She’s been read her rights. We have her for the murder of Dr. Dean Ulrich.”
Stubbs’s brows rose, and DeLeon let out a low whistle. “No kiddin’. The housekeeper?”
Paul tugged on Josie’s arm, and DeLeon stepped to her side to lead her to the car.
“Yeah. Take her to the precinct and process her, please. We have to finish up some details here.”
“You got it, Bulldog.”
He and Rob watched them walk Josie to the car and put her in the back seat, then drive away. Devine, Chase, and Catherine waited for them on the front steps. Calm settled over him as they walked up the steps and followed them into the house. If she complained to Kraft, the minimum would be suspension for a month. At worst, he’d ask for his badge.
“Mrs. Ulrich, do we have your permission to search Josie’s room?” Rob asked her, and Paul knew it was said to ease the tension between them. They wouldn’t need a warrant pursuant to an arrest, but Rob didn’t want to start rummaging through her home. It gave her a sense of control that she might not be feeling at the moment, and for the umpteenth time, Paul was so grateful Rob was his partner.
“Yes, yes of course.” She brushed aside her hair with a shaking hand. “It’s up two flights of stairs, last door at the end of the hallway.”
“Catherine, how about we go into the kitchen so you can have a cup of tea?” Devine took her elbow, and with Chase hovering at her side, left them in the hallway.
They took the stairs two at a time and found Josie’s room. It was a large, airy space, immaculately kept, with little furniture aside from a queen bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. The bed was covered with a dark-blue comforter, and plain white curtains hung at the windows.
“You take the dresser, and I’ll do the bed and nightstand?” Paul asked as they stood in the doorway and surveyed the room.
“Sure.” Rob crossed the room, took out a pair of gloves from his pocket and pulled them on, and opened the top drawer. Paul did the same, then reached in between the mattress and box spring and felt around. Finding nothing, he tipped the mattress up and looked, but there was nothing secreted there. He let the mattress fall back into place.
They searched methodically but found nothing in the dresser, the nightstand, or under the bed. Frustrated, they gazed about the room.
“The closet?”
“Yeah, of course.”
It was a small, one-door affair and didn’t hold many clothes aside from her uniforms, several pairs of cotton pants and blouses, a rain jacket, and a heavy parka. Paul shined the light from his phone into the interior and swept it over the floor. “Let’s check the clothes.”
They shook each item but found nothing. Paul got down on his knees and found a large nylon satchel bag, and recalling Chase stating that Josie returned from her supposed trip to the market with one like this, he picked it up and was unsurprised to feel its weight. His pulse quickening, he unzipped it, reached inside, and pulled out the object.
“Bingo,” he said softly, holding the silver candlestick up to the light for Rob to see.
“Hot damn. And I bet if you turn it over, the bottom will be stained with blood.” Rob took it from him and flipped it over. The purple felt on the base was discolored, and dark-brown matter coated part of the silver. “We’ll have Forensics test it for glass as well.”
“Yeah. But wait—there’s something else inside here.”
He pulled out a man’s wallet and opened it. In between the bills was a money order for ten thousand dollars.
Poor bastard.
They slipped the wallet into an evidence bag and returned the candlestick to Josie’s purse. With Josie’s bag in hand, they returned to the main floor of the house to speak to Catherine. Voices sounded from the back, and so they headed that way and found Chase, Catherine, and Devine in the kitchen, sitting at a massive white marble center island. Catherine was sipping a cup of tea.
“Excuse us, but we b
elieve we found the murder weapon. Your missing candlestick, I presume?” Paul opened the bag for Catherine to peer inside.
Catherine’s eyes widened with shock. “I thought the movers lost it. That’s what Josie said.”
“We’ll have to take it with us for testing. We’ll return it eventually.”
“I don’t ever want to see it again.” She covered her face with her hands. “Just leave, please. Go away.”
“I’ll take care of everything, Catherine. Don’t worry.” Devine put his hand on her shoulder, and she gave him a tearful smile.
Paul wondered how long Catherine Ulrich would remain the grieving widow.
“Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”
They left the house, and when they got to the car, Rob fished two large evidence bags from the trunk for the purse and candlestick.
The ride back should’ve been satisfying with another collar under their belt, but Paul remained concerned that Catherine Ulrich would complain.
“Another one for the books, Paulie.”
“Let’s hope Kraft thinks so.”
“You think she’ll call?” Rob stopped at a red light, and Paul gazed at him helplessly.
“I don’t know.”
They were silent for the rest of the ride, and Paul figured he could use the time of his suspension to weatherproof Cliff’s deck and maybe put in that basketball hoop.
Rob parked and unclipped his seat belt, then faced Paul. “If you think you’re going to take the blame yourself if this turns to shit, forget it.” He opened the car door and slammed out of it. Paul followed after him, clutching the evidence bags in his hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Once inside the station, they halfheartedly accepted congratulations from the other officers for the arrest. Paul filed his report, keeping an eye and an ear out for Kraft, but nothing. They inventoried the candlestick for evidence and sent it to Forensics for testing. Josie, they were told, had been sent to Thornwood Park Memorial Hospital for psychiatric observation.
“She didn’t say nothin’, Paul.” Stubbs, perched on the edge of Paul’s desk, shook his head. “We asked her if she wanted a lawyer or to call someone, but she just stared at us like we weren’t even there. It was creepy.”