by Mary Ellis
‘Little Katie?’ he asked, his eyes growing round. ‘Don’t you recognize me? I came by your house a couple times when you were little. ’Course I used to be heavier and had more hair back then.’ Crump snaked a hand through hair that hadn’t been washed in days.
‘Yeah, it’s coming back to me now. Mind if we talk inside?’ Kate pushed her way past him with Eric at her heels. ‘The dust in the hallway is making me sneeze.’
Crump’s apartment was mainly one room, with a bathroom carved out of one corner as though an afterthought. One wall held the sink, stove, and fridge, while his bed, threadbare sofa, and television lined the other wall. Open on the unmade bed were two suitcases, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in years.
‘Packing to leave, Mr Crump?’ asked Eric, pointing at the clothes hanging haphazardly from the suitcases.
‘You got that right.’ Crump returned to his bureau for another armload. ‘If Little Katie was half as smart as her brother says she is, she would leave town too.’
Kate stepped into his path. ‘Why? What do you know that I don’t?’
Charley clutched the clothes to his chest. ‘I know you’ve asked too many questions and stuck your nose into business that wasn’t yours. Now you’ve made someone mighty nervous.’
‘Have I made you nervous?’ Emboldened by Eric’s presence and the gun in her ankle holster, Kate yanked the clothes from Charley’s grip and tossed them on the bed.
‘Me? You thought I was the one in charge? Look around. Does it look like I got much from that heist? I’m not who you need to worry about, Little Katie.’ Stepping around her, he stuffed clothes into the already full suitcases.
With the fluidity of a dancer, Eric put one hand on Crump’s shoulder and spun him around. An easy enough task, considering Eric was six-foot-four-inches of muscles compared to the emaciated five-foot-eight-inch Crump. ‘Then who is in charge?’ Eric demanded.
‘Ace is calling the shots now. He has been from the start, only Liam didn’t know that. Ace didn’t trust your brother. Turned out it was Doug Young who backed out at the last minute.’ Crump sat on the suitcase in order to snap the latches. ‘But that change of heart cost Doug dearly.’
‘Meaning what?’ Kate asked.
Crump glared at her with his watery blue eyes. ‘All I know is that Doug Young disappeared from the face of the earth. Can you put two and two together, college girl?’
‘Is that what happened to Jimmy Russell?’
Crump shrugged. ‘Who knows? Like I said, nobody has found Doug yet. But Jimmy didn’t accidentally shoot himself in the face sitting in a deer stand. That guy handled firearms better than anybody I knew.’
‘So Ace killed Jimmy and most likely Doug. And he’s why you’re leaving town.’
‘Bingo. I guess Liam was right about your superior intellect.’ Crump set one bag by the door and returned for the other.
Kate plopped down on the other suitcase. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you tell us Ace’s real name.’
‘No way. Keep the clothes. I’ll get more at the Salvation Army. Ace ain’t the kind of guy you mess with.’
Kate jumped up and grabbed Charley’s arm. ‘Please help me. Liam talked to the district attorney about his accomplices, thinking you were the one threatening me.’
‘You want my help after your brother just fingered me for a capital crime? Better find somewhere to hide, Katie girl. But there’s no helping Liam, not in the joint. He never should have copped to the shooting.’
‘Please, Charley. Stop at the district attorney’s office and give a statement. Admit to being part of the robbery. The statute of limitations has expired for your crime. Say that you’d already taken off with the money when that guard got shot. For Liam to get out at his first parole hearing, I need someone to back up his testimony; something other than my suppressed memories through hypnotic regression.’
Charley stared at Kate. ‘Hypnotic what? You turned into one crazy lady. I’m not going anywhere near the DA’s office. Ace’s long arms can reach almost anywhere.’
Eric stepped between Crump and Kate. ‘That’s why you’re not leaving here without giving us Ace’s name.’
‘Hey, buddy. I’m not the one who blew up your car. Aren’t you two even listening?’
‘I don’t care about the car. It’s Kate I’m worried about. Now what’s the guy’s name?’ Eric drew his weapon and leveled it at Crump’s head.
He sneered. ‘You gonna shoot me, big guy? Go ahead. At least I’ll die quick, which is better than what Ace will do if he finds out.’
Kate gently pushed the gun barrel until it pointed at the wall. ‘Fine, just tell me one thing before you leave.’
Charley retrieved his second suitcase. ‘What’s that, Katie girl?’
‘Why did Ace knock my brother out cold? You could have all gotten away clean. Why did he shoot the guard?’
Crump’s smile revealed chipped and yellowed teeth. Dental hygiene apparently ranked low on his list of priorities. ‘That’s two questions, so I’ll just answer the first. Ace punched out Liam ’cause he was mad that Liam was late. You don’t come tardy to a stick-up, so Ace decided to teach him a lesson.’ Crump reached for the door handle then paused. ‘I remember you always brought me a Coke whenever I hung out with your brother. That was real nice, Katie. So I’ll think about stopping by the DA’s, or at least giving the office a call.’
‘Thanks, Charley. I would appreciate that.’
‘You take my advice and find a safe place to hide. Until Ace gets his just deserts, he isn’t someone to mess with.’ Crump took a final perusal of the room. ‘Hey, if you see anything you like, take it. Where I’m headed, I need to travel light.’ Then Charley vanished out the door and down the steps, leaving Kate and Eric amidst the remainder of his earthly possessions.
Both of them gazed around the sad, dilapidated room. Kate walked to the windowsill and picked up a reasonably healthy pink geranium.
‘What on earth will you do with that? You are living in a hotel room.’
She smiled. ‘No clue, but it’ll die if we leave it behind. Who knows when they’ll rent this dump again? Plus, someday I might have a cool place to live again.’
‘The suite above my family’s restaurant is still available.’
‘How would that work if you don’t want to be a chef anymore?’
Eric had no ready answer, but he carried the plant down four flights of stairs as Kate mulled over her conversation with Charley. ‘Do you think Charley will stop by the DA’s office?’ she asked in the lobby.
‘No chance of that happening.’
‘What about him making an anonymous phone call?’
‘I would say 50-50. Keep your fingers crossed. Since you wouldn’t let me shoot the guy, what’s our next move?’
‘I’m glad you didn’t. Despite everything, I feel sorry for Charley. Let’s hope he does the right thing. In the meantime, I need to get a hold of this person named Murphy at the prison since the warden never returned my call. Maybe he never got the message. Regardless, we must assume Liam’s not in protective custody.’
They walked across the street to the shade of a large oak. Kate dialed the only number she had for Santa Rosa Correctional and used her most officious tone of voice. ‘Good afternoon, it’s urgent that I speak with Mr Murphy.’
‘What’s that? You mean Doctor Murphy?’ asked a scratchy voice.
‘Yes, that’s what I said. This is Dr Gloria Tucker in Tallahassee. Please put me through immediately.’
‘Hold one moment, Doctor, and I’ll connect you.’
While Kate waited, Eric mouthed, ‘Who is Gloria Tucker?’
Kate put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘She was my second-grade teacher. I needed a name.’ While Eric grinned at her cleverness, Kate began to sweat.
In a few minutes, a man with an elderly rasp picked up the other end. ‘Dr Tucker? This is Elias Murphy. Please refresh my memory as to how we know each other.’
‘We don’
t, Dr Murphy, and I’m not a doctor, but please don’t hang up. This is Liam Weller’s sister, Kate. My brother gave a revised statement to the Escambia County DA’s office which put his life in grave danger.’
‘I’m not sure what I can do about that, Miss Weller. You should call the warden.’
‘I did last night and left a message, but nobody called me back. I can’t wait until tomorrow. Liam will be dead by then. Please, my brother said you were the only one I could trust in Santa Rosa Prison. Could you possibly transfer him to sick bay or something?’
Eric, who’d been craning his neck to hear, piped up. ‘Place him in isolation due to a communicative disease.’
‘How about that?’ Kate asked, giving Eric the thumbs-up.
‘I’ll try, Miss Weller. But right now I must return to my patient.’
‘Thank you, Dr Murphy. I know Eric did a lot of bad things in his life, but he never shot that guard. So he doesn’t deserve to die at the hands of the man who did.’ She heard only static on the other end. Liam’s only chance had already hung up.
Kate threw her arms around Eric and hugged. ‘That was a great idea. Let’s hope that Dr Murphy takes the Hippocratic Oath seriously.’
FOURTEEN
Michael Preston, Price Investigations’ forensic accountant, called them back before Kate and Eric arrived back in downtown Pensacola.
‘Hi, Michael, did you dig up anything interesting about the three committee members?’
‘You bet I did. Elizabeth Bronner, the treasurer, and Ann Hodges, the secretary, have no skeletons in the closet. They appear to be nice mothers, grandmothers, and generous philanthropists in their community.’
Kate all but rubbed her palms together with glee. ‘But …’ She dragged the word into several syllables and pressed the speaker button so Eric could hear.
‘But Martha Collier, better known as Marti, has quite a colorful past. Her current husband met her in a bar and was instantly swept off his feet. After a whirlwind courtship, he married her in San Juan without checking into her past. Mr Collier was Marti’s third husband. The first two are both doing time for financial crimes – everything from embezzlement to tax fraud.’
‘They’re in jail?’ Kate squawked.
‘The big house, federal playpen, sent-up-the-river – pick your favorite colloquialism.’
‘What about Marti?’
‘The new Mrs Collier has been convicted twice for impersonation and fraud for cashing checks that didn’t belong to her. Apparently she once volunteered as a caregiver for the elderly. Both of the checks she stole were over ten grand each. But, thanks to an expensive lawyer, the charges were reduced to misdemeanors both times.’
‘I can’t believe she didn’t go to jail!’ Indignation left a bad taste in her mouth.
‘Oh, did I forget to mention that Mr Collier is actually Judge Collier?’
Kate uttered a rude sound. ‘As fascinating as this is, none of it has anything to do with Agnes Westin.’
‘Don’t be so impatient,’ Michael chided. ‘I’m just getting to that. Marti used to be treasurer of the garden club, until Agnes discovered the ledgers didn’t match the club’s bank balance. We’re only talking a couple hundred dollars, but Agnes blew her stack. She called Judge Collier and demanded that he make restitution. The old guy probably thought Marti’s life of crime was behind her. Her name came off their joint checking account and he cancelled Miss Sticky Finger’s credit cards. Marti has only a debit card, which the bank monitors closely. One can only assume Mrs Collier is no longer a happy woman.’
Eric leaned closer to the phone. ‘I can’t even imagine how you came by this information.’
Michael laughed. ‘And I’m not going to tell you.’
‘My bet is that Marti holds Agnes responsible for her fall from grace,’ Kate interjected.
‘You got that right. Everyone in the club found out when Agnes stripped her of the treasurer’s duties. Then Elizabeth Bronner, who was the VP, felt sorry for Marti and switched positions, but the damage had already been done. Everyone knows, plus hubby put Marti on a short leash.’
‘I’m smelling motive.’ Kate winked at Eric.
‘I thought you might. I gotta run. Have any message for Beth?’
‘Yeah, she should be nice to you until the wedding.’
‘Only until? I shudder to think what will happen after.’
‘Thanks, Michael. I owe you … plenty.’
‘See you at the wedding, aka Natchez’s Social Event of the Decade.’
When Kate hung up, Eric slapped her on the back. ‘Sounds like you found another suspect,’ he said. ‘Marti Collier had both motive and opportunity. Where to now – back to police headquarters to talk to Detective Buckley?’
‘No, let’s ask him to meet us at the Westins’. What we need is a smoking gun, or Buckley might not want to change horses mid-race.’
‘But Agnes was killed …’ Eric thought for a moment. ‘Oh, never mind. I had forgotten your fondness for metaphors.’
‘It’s from hanging around you too long. Pull into that parking lot and stop so you can listen to the call. This one might take a while.’ Kate punched in the detective’s number and waited.
‘Ahh, Miss Weller,’ Buckley said in his charming Jamaican accent. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure? I assure you Mrs Gonzalez is in jail and that’s where she’ll remain until the trial. She’s a flight risk.’
‘Let’s not throw the key away just yet. Do you still have the trash taken off the boat that day?’
‘Yes, it was all logged into evidence.’
‘Check the trash for a cork to a wine bottle. We’re looking for the white wine cork in particular.’
‘Why? The white had been finished and the bottle washed out, and the red wine contained no trace of poison.’
‘Go along with me for the moment. Recently I found out Mark Harris didn’t drink. Not at all. He neglected to mention that to you. Mrs Westin didn’t want her boat neighbors to know she was a lush so she set out two wine glasses. Then Agnes drank both.’
‘You’re saying she consumed an entire bottle of white and then started in on the red? How was she able to snorkel around the marina? I certainly would have drowned.’
‘Yep, me too, but alcoholics can build up a tolerance until their livers start to shut down. My theory is the poison was in the bottle of white wine. You should find a tiny hole in the cork from a syringe needle.’
Buckley remained silent while processing the information. ‘The poison wasn’t fast acting. It takes a while to be fully absorbed into the bloodstream and cause organ failure. But I don’t think Luisa was savvy enough to inject poison through a wine cork.’
‘I agree. That’s why Luisa might not have been the killer.’
‘You have my attention, Miss Weller, even though I don’t like what I’m hearing. Even if someone put the poison into the white, what’s the chance of finding trace evidence still on the cork?’
‘Hope springs eternal. Could you have your lab techs search for the cork and send it to the lab?’
‘Consider it done, but I’d love to hear about this new suspect.’
‘I promise to divulge everything, but could you meet me at the Westin mansion? I also want to see if the household trash has been picked up.’
‘Certainly by now. It’s been over a week.’
‘But with Mrs Westin dead and the housekeeper in jail, who knows which domestic tasks have been neglected?’
‘You do realize that, unlike yourself, I have other cases.’ Buckley sounded low on patience.
‘Rest assured you won’t be sorry you made the trip.’ Kate had no idea how she could make such a bold pledge.
‘I’ll come, because I need to get out of the office. But you’d better not waste my time.’
Hanging up, Kate grinned at Eric. ‘Full speed ahead to the Westin house with your fingers crossed. My case hinges on well-paid employees not doing their jobs if left unsupervised.’
Twenty
minutes later, Eric pulled up the driveway and parked near the garage.
‘You two back again?’ Wiping his hands on a rag, the gardener appeared in the potting shed doorway.
Kate jumped out of the car. ‘Yes, but don’t worry. We’re not here to grill you.’
‘Then who? The only other person here is the cook.’
Ignoring his question, Kate asked one of her own. ‘Where are the garbage cans kept?’
‘What?’
‘Tell us where the garbage cans are,’ repeated Eric.
‘On the far side of the garage, behind the rose trellis.’ Chapman pointed in the general direction.
Kate and Eric sprinted around the garage. If the number of circling flies and noxious odors were good indicators, the trash hadn’t been collected in quite some time. Eric reached for a lid, but Kate grabbed his wrist.
‘Let’s wait for Buckley. We don’t want to taint the evidence. We’re not law enforcement.’
Eric put his hands in his pockets. ‘Good idea. You want me to stand guard?’
‘No, you might pass out from the fumes. Let’s go question the cook. What does that woman do all day?’
Inside the kitchen, the overpaid cook was emptying the pantry of canned and dry goods. ‘Hi, remember me? Kate Weller. And you are?’
‘Mrs Carter. I was the cook, but it looks like I’m in charge of packing boxes for the food bank now.’
‘You did notice there’s nobody here to cook for, right?’ Kate laced her question with a tablespoon of sugar.
Mrs Carter dropped a can of split pea into the crate. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Weller?’
‘I was curious which day is trash pickup.’
The older woman blinked. ‘It’s every Monday.’
‘But I noticed that every can is overflowing.’
‘I am the cook, not a cleaning lady or a housekeeper or the gardener. I told that worthless Mr Chapman to drag out the cans, which he did. But they refused to pick up because the recyclables hadn’t been removed. How dare that arrogant hauler refuse to pick up our trash?’ Carter sounded as though she’d never suffered a greater injustice. ‘I’m certainly not going to pick through that mess to remove glass, plastic, and aluminum. It can stay until kingdom-come.’