Enemies Closer

by Parker, Ava

  Harry kept looking from one detective to the other. “Don’t tell me you think it was a suicide?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility, but there’s no way to tell for sure.”

  “But why would he kill himself?”

  “Why indeed?” said Kincaid. “The working theory is that he knew he was going to prison for a long time and took the easy way out.”

  “But what do you think?” asked Harry.

  “We’re withholding judgment for the time being.”

  “I see,” said Harry. “Well, if you’re here to ask me if I killed Susan the answer is no. If you’re here to ask me if I think Eddie killed Susan, the answer is also no. I just can’t wrap my head around it. I don’t – didn’t know him well – evidently I didn’t know Susan very well either – but he never seemed,” he searched for a word, “interesting enough to commit murder.”

  Carlisle raised an eyebrow. “Interesting enough?”

  “Eddie seemed like a pretty shallow man, Detective Carlisle. If you’ve met him then you know what I mean. Happy so long as his belly is full, his penis is satisfied and his car is shiny and new.”

  “Those are all good reasons to commit murder,” said Carlisle.

  “I guess,” said Harry. “I just feel like there should have been more to Susan’s death than vanity or jealousy or inconvenience. Like great love or rage or hatred. Not just that she was going to tell his wife they were sleeping together.”

  “Do you think that would have been his motive?”

  Harry shrugged. “What do I know? I’m feeling pretty disillusioned about everything right now.”

  “You didn’t suspect Susan was having an affair?” asked Kincaid.

  “I had no idea,” he said simply. “Susan and I both worked so much that it didn’t occur to me she would have time to sleep with anyone else. And even if I had suspected something, I never would have suspected her of sleeping with Eddie Perkins.” Harry’s lip curled in disgust. “He seemed so brutish and dumb.”

  “I take it you didn’t like Eddie?”

  “I didn’t really know him. It was just an impression.” He smiled a little. “Frankly, I thought Michelle was the one fooling around with the help.”

  That got their attention. “Michelle?” asked Carlisle.

  Harry poured more coffee and nodded conspiratorially. “Occasionally, when I had the evening free and Susan was working, I’d stop in around happy hour for a drink. If Michelle was still there I’d see her flit around the bar, stealing secret glances at the bartender. Once I saw him squeeze her ass when he thought no one was looking. And that was just what I noticed when I happened to be there. Susan used to tell me such funny stories.” He looked both wistful and angry. “Anyway, a lot can happen in the hours between lunch and dinner when the restaurant is closed,” he said, with a mysterious wink.

  “You think Michelle Perkins was having a fling with Joe Bailey, the bartender?” asked Kincaid.

  Harry shrugged. “Yes. I do. Susan told me he would sometimes come in early and she would see him sneaking out of Michelle’s office, looking rumpled.”

  “That’s not really proof,” said Kincaid, but his mind was racing with the news.

  “I don’t have proof,” said Harry. “Why would I? All I have is pillow talk. But people fool around all the time in this business.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about Michelle sooner? Didn’t you think it was relevant?”

  “Not when Maddy Gardner went missing. The next time I talked to the police was when those other detectives came to tell me Susan had been murdered.” His voice grew bitter. “Then again when they came to tell me she was sleeping with Eddie Perkins, and did I know anything about that? I guess that since I wasn’t a suspect, I didn’t merit another visit. I was crushed. First because the woman I thought I loved had been brutally killed and second because the woman I thought I loved had been betraying me.” He swallowed hard. “Anyway, I honestly didn’t think about it until I started searching my memories of her behavior for any indication that she had preferred that slob all along.”

  His voice was rueful, but his eyes were full of hurt. Carlisle patted the back of his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss, Harry.”

  He looked at her. “Thank you, Detective Carlisle.”

  They left Harry’s house and drove straight to Joe Bailey’s apartment building on the north side of Belltown.

  Tanaka and Iverson were back at their desks, typing notes and reading through preliminary evidence files. When Iverson reached into the breast pocket of his suitcoat for a pen, he also found a slip of paper. It was the note from one of the operators on the tip line; he must have forgotten about it in the all the excitement. Reading the note quickly, he picked up the phone to call the number scrawled on the bottom of the page.

  The taxi driver was just home after a long shift when his mobile phone rang in his pocket.

  “Hello?”

  Iverson identified himself. “I got a note that says you believe you witnessed Madeline Gardner getting into a car on Pine and Second Street Monday night?”

  “Yeah, well I didn’t know who she was then, of course, but I was dropping a fare at a restaurant around the corner and we were stopped at the red light there at the intersection.”

  “The corner of Pine and Second Street?”

  “Right. So I’ve got this really foxy lady in the back seat and while I’m waiting for the light to change I take the opportunity to check her out in the rearview” – at his desk, Iverson rolled his eyes – “and she’s staring out the driver’s side window. Real interested in something. So I look where she’s looking and see this shiny sports car. Fancy BMW. Must have cost a hundred grand. Anyway, this tall lady in a leather trench coat is getting into the sports car and I figure the sexy redhead in my back seat is thinking that she should be the one riding in that car instead of my old cab.”

  A knot of excitement was forming in Iverson’s stomach but he kept his voice calm. “You said your fare was a redhead?”

  “Yep. Tall, curvy, big tits.”

  Iverson’s excitement grew. “Sir, did you happen to see the driver of the BMW?”

  “Oh yeah, when the woman opened the passenger door the light went on and I saw her plain as day.”

  “You saw the woman getting into the car?”

  “Well, yeah, but I mean I saw the woman driving too.”

  “The woman?”

  “I was surprised too. I mean, I figured whoever owned that car was some old asshole with too much money and a taste for his secretaries, if you know what I mean.”

  Iverson ignored the comment. “Sir, where were you bringing the redhead?”

  “A restaurant around the corner. Gigi’s Bistro.”

  A few minutes later, when Iverson got off the phone, Tanaka was waiting for an explanation. He’d overheard enough to know it was an important call. His partner gave him a quick overview and then said, “Either Michelle Perkins was driving that car or she has a twin out there. And Susan Burns was in the backseat of that cab when it happened.”

  “Michelle?” said Tanaka, his excitement turning to dismay. “Not Eddie?”

  “It was Michelle all along and Susan Burns knew it.”

  Joe Bailey had obviously still been in bed when Carlisle and Kincaid banged on his door. They had caught the security door downstairs when another tenant was leaving and gone straight to his apartment on the second floor.

  “Yeah, okay, come in,” he had said when he saw them. Joe was not nearly as gracious as Harry had been, but Carlisle could hardly blame him. He stunk of booze and clearly had a hangover. His tiny apartment was a mess and Joe had to sweep textbooks and chip bags onto the floor before he could find himself a seat on the couch. He didn’t offer them the same courtesy and Carlisle perched on the arm of
a loveseat while her partner elected to stand.

  “Yeah, we were fucking around,” said Joe, without any sign of the boyish charm he’d shown in their first interview, “but she put an end to it.”

  “When?” Kincaid boomed from above the young man.

  “Last night, man. So I went out and got wasted after work.”

  It was pretty clear that the drinking hadn’t stopped after he had come home. There were empty beer bottles covering the coffee table. Joe saw her looking. “A couple of buddies came over here after the bars closed.”

  “We’ll need their names,” said Kincaid.

  “Why?” asked Joe, looking alert for the first time since they’d arrived. “What happened?”

  “Eddie Perkins died last night and it wasn’t from natural causes.”

  Joe blinked and searched the coffee table until he found half a bottle of water amid the beer bottles. “Well, I didn’t do it,” he said before taking a long drink. “I was working, then I went to a few bars with my friends and then we came back here. I passed out after that.”

  “Were you angry when Michelle dumped you?” asked Carlisle.

  “She didn’t dump me. She wasn’t my girlfriend. So when she ended it I was like, what the fuck? I mean she’s all sweet and horny as hell one minute and then she’s like, ‘It’s over.’ Just like that. I wasn’t angry, man, I was just annoyed.”

  Carlisle’s phone rang and she checked the caller ID. “I’m gonna take this in the hall,” she said to her partner and walked out.

  When she came back in a minute later, Joe Bailey was saying, “Michelle told me it would be better if I mentioned it to you. I asked why she couldn’t just tell the cops Eddie was sleeping with the floor manager, but she said it would just make you suspicious of her and she didn’t have time to deal with you any more than she already was. I felt bad for her. She’s running that place on her own and she’s fried.”

  Kincaid turned to his partner and one look at her face told him it was time to go.

  “Where are we going?” asked Kincaid as they made their way back to the car.

  They had left the bartender with a stern look and a promise to check his alibis and rushed out the door. Carlisle filled in Kincaid as they drove toward Maddy Gardner’s condo. “They brought the cab driver in and he identified Michelle Perkins and Susan Burns from a photo line-up. Michelle kidnapped Maddy in Eddie’s sports car and killed Susan when she found out she was a witness to it. She probably killed Eddie too.”

  “You think Susan tried to blackmail her?”

  “It’s the only reason I can think of for keeping it from the cops. And she wasn’t exactly a beacon of integrity.”

  “And if Michelle knows Maddy is alive, she might go after her.”

  “If she saw the news this morning, and I bet she was watching to see whether Eddie’s death would make the headlines, she would have seen the story about Maddy’s rescue. But it would be a suicide mission to go after her now, especially with the man she tried to frame already in the morgue. Still, I don’t want to take the chance.”

  They arrived at Maddy’s building and pulled in behind the patrol car. Before going in, Kincaid asked the officer inside if he’d noticed anything suspicious.

  “Nope. My partner just went up to check on everyone. Only movement was when the sister’s boyfriend came over this morning.”

  Kincaid thanked him and followed Carlisle into the entryway of the building. He rang the bell and the door buzzed open almost immediately. They went up, crossing paths with the other patrolman on their way into the elevator. He carried a Tupperware container of something that smelled really delicious and confirmed that everyone was fine upstairs. “She’s cooking. Says it soothes her.”

  The elevator opened onto the sixth floor and the scent of melted butter and cheese wafted through the open door. Clara stood on the threshold and ushered the detectives inside.

  Madeline and Ben stood on opposite sides of the kitchen island. They both stared expectantly at Carlisle and Kincaid without uttering a word.

  “Maddy,” Carlisle began, “can we all sit down?” She gestured toward the living room and they sat, uncertainty and suspicion clouding their faces. “Eddie Perkins was not the person who kidnapped you.”

  Maddy leaned forward in her seat, her eyes going very wide. “No.”

  “Pardon me?” said Carlisle, surprised by the response.

  “It was Michelle.”

  Clara turned sharply toward the detectives. “Michelle?”

  “We believe so,” said Kincaid. “We have a witness who saw Maddy getting into Eddie’s BMW Z4 on Monday night. And he saw Michelle in the driver’s seat. He identified her photograph. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A patrol car radioed Tanaka and Iverson in their unmarked car: Michelle Perkins’s car was parked near Dovetail. Tanaka called in two squad cars to meet them there and then called Carlisle to tell her they were getting ready to take Michelle. “They’ll meet us outside,” he told his partner. “They’re at Maddy Gardner’s apartment, a few blocks away.”

  “It’s after eleven,” said Iverson when they arrived at Dovetail, “there might be customers inside. We’ll have to go in on our own first and have officers standing by outside. If we can catch her in the kitchen or office, we can take her. Otherwise, we’ll have to make sure she’s either willing to go quietly or far enough away from any diners to take her without collateral damage.”

  “Do you think she would harm anyone?” asked Tanaka thoughtfully. It didn’t matter what they thought, Michelle had to be treated as a danger to herself and others, but it was good to think through the possibilities before walking into a potentially volatile situation.

  “She might. If she feels trapped.”

  They parked down the street from the restaurant and waited for the others to arrive. Carlisle and Kincaid would go around to the back door with two patrolmen and wait; Tanaka and Iverson would go in through the front door and the two other patrolmen would wait across the street from the entrance. If the homicide detectives needed back-up they would radio both teams; otherwise, they would take the suspect out through the front entrance.

  Once everyone was in place Tanaka and Iverson crossed the street and entered the restaurant.

  Three minutes later Iverson opened the back door and let Carlisle and Kincaid inside. Tanaka waved the other two officers in.

  “We got a problem,” said Iverson. “She’s not here.”

  “Maddy,” said Carlisle. She and Kincaid were already heading for the front door.

  Clara was curled on the sofa, napping against Ben’s shoulder while he did the NYT crossword puzzle on his iPhone, and Maddy was sitting with Bea, reading through a short stack of Saveur magazines while a pan of shortbread baked in the oven. After the detectives had left Maddy had begun furiously kneading flour and butter and brown sugar together, then flattened it into a pan and threw it into the oven. She hadn’t uttered a word since being told that Michelle, her friend, her partner in the restaurant she loved, had thrown her into a dank, dirty hole in the ground and left her there alone and afraid for nearly a week.

  Now all was quiet; even the traffic on Second Street seemed to have stopped. Maddy put down her magazine and let her vision blur. In the silence her senses sharpened. She could perceive the crackle of the butter and sugar caramelizing in the oven, the sound of the cat’s tiny exhalations, the rhythm of Clara’s heartbeat from across the room, the soft rustle of cotton against Ben’s neck as he turned his head toward the door.

  And yes, there it was, the clink of a key turning in the lock.

  Ben and Maddy jumped out of their seats; both Clara and the cat mewed their displeasure at being displaced and the front door swung open, revealing Michelle standing on the threshold, a revolver in her hand.
<
br />   Panic gripped Clara as she fumbled to stand up. Ben’s mind began clicking through the next few moves. Bea ran under the couch.

  But Maddy Gardner flew at the woman in the doorway. Using the same motion that had propelled her out of the chair, she vaulted over its side, took two bounding steps and leapt at her treacherous best friend and business partner.

  The two women tumbled to the floor in a pile and the gun skittered away from them. Ben grabbed it and turned in utter amazement toward the struggle. He and Clara stood frozen as Maddy pummeled Michelle. Just as he stepped forward to break it up, Maddy stopped and pinned the other woman to the floor.

  “You hateful bitch. It’s over.”

  “Yes, it is,” said Kincaid as he and Carlisle appeared in the doorway. They had stepped off of the elevator unnoticed over the din of the fight. “Michelle Perkins, you are under arrest for the murders of Susan Burns and Edward Perkins and the kidnapping of Madeline Gardner.” He helped Maddy to her feet and read Michelle her rights while a patrolman flipped and cuffed her where she lay on the floor.

  As the uniformed officer and his partner stood her up, Michelle spat blood and saliva at Maddy, missing her by several feet. “Pretty girls don’t always get what they want, Madeline. Someday your perfect world will crumble at your feet. I promise you that.”

  “Get her out of here,” said Carlisle. When the patrolmen got her into the elevator, she turned to Maddy. “What happened here?”

  “She had a gun,” said Maddy, her breathing labored in the aftermath of an adrenaline rush. “I didn’t even think. I was so mad I just jumped her.” She paused to take a few deep breaths. “What happened?”