“Just that there was something important and he needed three men.”
“And you don’t have an idea of who made the call?” Sean asked.
Clyde took another bite of his linzer cookie and flicked a crumb off the leg of his pants. “None. Could have been a baboon from Barbados for all I know. Like I said, Lucy took the call in his office. I’ll see what I can find out, but I’m not very hopeful. Maybe he mentioned something to one of the guys on the way over.”
“Will any of them talk to you?”
Clyde shrugged. “Minor might. He owes me for covering his ass when I caught him downing a shot at the Dome when he was on duty.”
Sean put his mug down and ran his finger over its rim. “It would be interesting to know,” he mused. “Very interesting indeed.”
Libby took Marvin’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Are you okay?” she asked him. “Because you look a little bit upset.”
Sean made a noise somewhere between a snort and a sneeze. “Of course, he’s fine. Give him a little credit. He’s not a baby.”
Marvin squeezed Libby’s hand in return. “No. I’m okay. Really.”
Sean raised his hand up. “See. I told you.” He pointed to himself. “What about me? Why don’t you ask whether or not I’m fine?”
Bernie rolled her eyes. “Come on, Dad. We can see that you’re okay.” She got up and poured her dad some more coffee.
“Maybe not. Maybe someone is trying to set me up,” Sean said as he took another gulp of coffee and put his cup down.
“Dad, don’t you think you may be overstating?” Bernie asked.
“Maybe. Probably. But you have to admit that Lucy showing up there and then is suggestive.”
Bernie folded her legs into a lotus position. “Of something.”
“It could be coincidence,” Libby suggested.
Sean just turned and looked at her.
“Right,” Libby said. “I forgot to whom I was talking.”
At which point Clyde cleared his throat and said, “It might be more mian> profitable if we thought about this logically. We should ask ourselves who would do that and why. I mean, with all due respect, I don’t see what this scenario was meant to accomplish.”
Sean stretched his right leg out and massaged his knee. It was starting to ache. “I have to admit I don’t either. But I have a hard time believing the timing was a coincidence. I mean the body is lying there for a week, possibly two, and Lucy gets the call now?”
Marvin put in his two cents. “Maybe someone was watching the house and decided to take advantage of our presence.”
“Marvin, we didn’t see anyone.”
“That doesn’t mean no one was there, Mr. Simmons.”
Clyde nodded. “It is a better explanation, Sean.”
Bernie unfolded her legs and stretched them out. For some reason her new heels were killing her hamstrings. “All I know,” she said, “is that I was afraid I was going to have to bail you two out.”
“For what?” Sean scoffed. “Trespassing? Don’t be silly.”
“I’m sure Lucy could come up with something better than that,” Clyde observed. “Like interfering with an investigation. That’s a felony.”
“A Class E felony, Clyde.”
“It’s still a felony, Sean.”
“He wanted to,” Sean said, laughing at the memory. “But he couldn’t make it stick.”
Marvin reached over for a cookie. “I think it was because he was scared of Bree.”
“Everyone is scared of Bree around here,” Libby said. “She has more power than God.”
Clyde chuckled. “Or at least the mayor. Lucy must have been furious.”
Sean started massaging his other knee. He was going to have to build his quads up again. “Well, he wasn’t a happy camper. I will say that.”
Clyde took a final bite of his linzer cookie and wiped his hand on the napkin in front of him. “I wish I could have been there to see that.” Then he changed topics. “So, Sean, Marvin, tell us what you found.”
And they did. Marvin told them about the files he’d found on Liza’s computer and Sean described Liza’s body and passed around his cell phone with the photos he’d taken of Liza’s texts and the last three calls she’d made. It turned out that none were particularly notable. One was to her friend Renee Connor, one was to her stepdad, and one was to Duncan. The two voice mails on Liza’s phone were similarly unhelpful. One message was from her hair salon and the other was from her Avon representative.
“Probably calling to tell her to pick up her order,” Libby said.
“Or place one,” Bernie added. “We should call and check these numbers out.” It turned out they were as represented. Liza had wanted to change her haircut appointment and she’d ordered some moisturizer from Avon that had to be picked up.
“She didn’t seem to have much of a social life,” Bernie observed, after she’d hung up. “What did she do for a living anyway?”
“Nothing, as far as I know,” Sean replied. He ran his hand over his face. The day had tired him out more than he thought. “She lived off her trust fund. Or at least she had been before everything went south.”
Clyde took a quick glance at his watch. He had to get going soon, so he could pick up Mrs. Clyde at the mall. They had a big sale on kitchen equipment, although why his wife continued to buy thaued Het kind of stuff was beyond him. If she wasn’t the worst cook in the world, she was certainly one of the top contenders. Not that he’d ever say that to her.
Sean noticed Clyde glancing at his watch. “Do you have to get going?”
“Got to pick up the missus at the mall. She’s buying one of those fancy new coffee makers, the kind that grinds the coffee and brews it and probably drinks it for you as well.”
“Do you think it will help?” Libby asked him. Mrs. Clyde was well known for her ability to burn coffee.
“Nope,” Clyde said. “Not in the least. But if it’ll make her feel better, who am I to stand in the way? She has many fine attributes. Unfortunately, cooking isn’t one of them.” Clyde reached over and grabbed another cookie. Talking about his wife’s cooking ability or lack thereof had made him hungry. He turned to Sean when he was done. “You think Liza’s and Sweeney’s deaths are related?” Clyde asked.
“Hard to think they wouldn’t be,” Sean answered.
“That’s what I’m thinking too,” Clyde agreed. “Too much of a coincidence otherwise.”
Libby leaned over and poured Marvin a little more coffee. She knew he liked it and she wanted to make sure he had all he needed. “But it could be.”
“Yes, it could be,” her dad said. “But it probably isn’t.”
“So we’re assuming that the same person who killed Sweeney also killed Liza?” Bernie asked.
Sean and Clyde both nodded.
“I think that’s a good supposition to work with,” Clyde said.
Sean leaned back in his armchair. “Both murders happened in the same time frame. In addition, both are similar in nature,” he said.
“I don’t see how,” Bernie replied.
“Think about it,” Sean urged.
“I still don’t see it,” Bernie said after a minute had gone by and she’d given up.
“Neither do I,” Libby added. “So what do you think it all means?” she asked her dad a minute later.
Sean nodded to Bernie and Libby. “Why don’t you two tell me?”
“Dad, it would be faster if you told us,” Bernie said.
“I know it would,” Sean answered. “But I really want you girls to try. It’s good practice. And besides, it’s more fun.”
“For who?” Libby asked.
“For me,” Sean said.
Bernie and Libby both grinned. They had played the evidence game with their dad as long as they could remember, much to their mother’s dismay. She thought that crime scenes were not things one discussed with young girls. But Bernie and Libby had always loved the idea of figuring things out—especially
when their dad gave them a nickel for each correct conclusion they reached—and the habits of thought they’d learned had stood them in good stead ever since.
Libby closed her eyes for a minute as she marshaled everything she’d heard from Marvin, Sean, and Clyde. A moment later she was ready.
“You said the door was open,” Libby began.
“Very slightly ajar,” Sean said.
“And it wasn’t forced open?” Bernie asked.
“Nope,” Sean said. “No sign of forced entry.”
“So that means that Liza opened the door to whoever kilto ">
“That is correct,” Sean said.
“It could have been a salesman,” Libby said, thinking out loud.
“Or someone who was asking directions,” Sean said. “Or a neighbor.”
“But that won’t get us anywhere,” Libby continued. “So let’s say she opened the door to someone she knew.”
“Someone who knew she was staying there,” Bernie corrected. “Since it wasn’t her house. Has anyone gotten in touch with Renee Connor, by the way?”
Clyde answered. “She’s on a cruise in the Hawaiian Islands. She’s flying home tonight.”
Marvin looked down at his hands, then looked back up. “Not a nice homecoming,” he observed. “That’s for sure.”
“Not at all,” Bernie agreed. “I think I’d want to sell the house if that had happened in mine. But then, who would want to buy it?”
“You’d be surprised,” Clyde responded.
“Would you?” Libby asked him.
“Yeah,” Clyde replied after he’d thought about it for a minute. “If I could get it for a better price.”
Bernie laughed and brushed a lock of hair off her face. “Well, I guess we can count Renee out,” she said, getting back to the matter at hand. “Being as she was on a cruise and all. Therefore we’re talking about a friend or a relative or a coworker who Liza invited into the house.”
Sean leaned back. “Well, she didn’t work so she didn’t have coworkers, and according to Dwyer and you, she didn’t have lots of friends.”
Bernie snagged a cookie and ate half. “Maybe she didn’t have friends, maybe she had customers,” she said, thinking about the pics on Liza’s laptop.
“Bernie, we don’t know that,” Libby protested.
“You’re right, Libby, we don’t. But Brandon might.” And Bernie dug out her phone and called him. “Nope,” she said when she hung up. “I was wrong. No customers. Not too many friends either, as far as Brandon knows.”
“So we’re all agreed she wasn’t a social butterfly,” Sean said.
Marvin stifled a yawn. Being with Libby’s dad always wore him out. “Maybe she was blackmailing the guys from the Corned Beef and Cabbage Club,” he suggested. “Has anyone considered that she might have been using the pics on her laptop for that. It could be a, ‘give me money or I’ll post them on the Web’ kind of deal.”
Libby beamed at Marvin as if he’d discovered the laws of the universe. “Now that’s a definite possibility.”
Marvin beamed back.
“Let’s stick to the agenda,” Sean said.
“There’s an agenda?” Bernie asked her dad.
“Yes, Bernie. There is.” Sometimes Sean felt as if he were herding cats. “There’s a lot to go over and we need to do it in a systematic way. And right now we need to talk about how Liza was killed. Then we can go on to other stuff. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Libby said.
There was a brief pause, then Bernie said, “You said she was shot in the bathtub in the second floor bathroom, right, Dad?”
“Yes, I did,” Sean said.
“Were there any signs of a struggle?” Bernie asked.
“None,” Marvin said. “At least none that I c non saould see, right, Mr. Simmons?”
“Right, Marvin.” Sean leaned forward a little. “Everything was where it was supposed to be. There were no signs of a fight in the house. And it didn’t look as if anything had been searched. Or if it had been, whoever did it was certainly very careful about it.”
“And Liza was fully dressed?” Bernie asked.
“Down to her shoes,” Sean said. “And none of her items of apparel look as if they’d been touched in any way. Her hair was combed. Her makeup was on.”
Libby chewed on her cuticle for a moment, then said, “To state the obvious, people don’t usually get in the bathtub with their clothes on.”
Sean smiled. He could see that his daughters were getting it. “No, they don’t. So what would make her do that?”
Bernie grinned. “Besides a photo shoot.”
Sean laughed. “Yes, Bernie, besides a photo shoot.”
“Well, the obvious possibility is that someone had a gun, pulled it out, marched her upstairs, and shot her.”
“That’s one possibility,” Sean said.
“There’s another?” Libby asked.
“I think so,” Sean answered.
“What?” Bernie asked. “That Liza took Ambien and sleepwalked herself into the tub?”
“Something like that,” Sean said.
“How something like that?” Clyde asked.
“Well, I can see a scenario where Liza and her visitor sat down and had some coffee or tea or soda and that the visitor doped it up and led her upstairs, put her in the tub, and then shot her.”
“Why do something like that?” Bernie said.
Sean shrugged. “I’m guessing to make her more compliant. So she would do whatever anyone told her to.”
“Kind of karmic with her putting the stuff in Duncan’s beer and all,” Libby said.
“Isn’t it, though?” Sean said. “When I looked at Liza’s body the thing that really struck me was that she was so neat. She was just lying there and the angle of the wounds suggests that someone shot her looking down at her.”
“Whoever killed her could have made her lie down,” Libby suggested.
“That’s a possibility too,” Sean admitted. “Although my gut tells me to go with the second scenario. People always freak out at the end. It’s human nature.”
“The killer could have shot her and then neatened her up,” Marvin said, thinking of what they did in the funeral home.
Sean stopped massaging his hands and took another sip of coffee. By now it was lukewarm, but he liked it that way. “I guess we’ll know after the ME gets through, right, Clyde?”
Clyde put on a long face. “Hey,” he groused. “It’s not as if this is my case. I have to poke around to get to see the report. I could get in trouble.”
“You want brownies?” Libby said.
“You think I can be bribed?” Clyde asked in a tone of mock horror.
“Most definitely,” Bernie answered.
Clyde smiled. “Mocha brownies with cashews and you’re on.”
Sean shook his head. “You always were a cheap date, Clyde.”
Clyde put his hand on his heart. “You mean I could have held out for bhelad.rownies and ginger snaps? I want to renegotiate.”
“Too late, Clyde,” Libby said. “A deal is a deal. Now, to get back to where we were ...”
“Which is where?” Marvin asked. “I think I lost track.”
Libby patted Marvin on the knee. “We’re at the place where someone one way or another got Liza into the bathtub and shot her. Why the bathtub?”
“Less chance of leaving DNA around,” Clyde said promptly.
“And,” Marvin added, “if you lower the house temperature the bathtub stays colder and that helps preserve the body.”
“Also,” Sean said, “the bathroom helps muffle the sound of the shots. And you’ve got water right there to wash up. Very convenient.”
Bernie got up and started walking around. “And nothing was taken.”
“Nothing that we know about,” Sean told her. “Of course, we don’t know what wasn’t there so it’s hard to say.”
Libby dug into the pocket of her shirt, got out two chocolate kisses, offered one
to Marvin and took the other. Then she unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. After she was done savoring it, she said, “Here’s what I don’t understand. Liza had those pictures on her laptop and the laptop was in plain sight. But no one took it. Doesn’t that prove it wasn’t one of the Corned Beef and Cabbage guys?” Libby asked.
“Not necessarily,” Bernie said. “Maybe they didn’t know. Or”—Bernie raised a finger—“maybe they didn’t care.”
“I would think they’d care,” Clyde said.
Bernie rebuttoned the top button of her blouse. “Given the tenor of the times, maybe, maybe not. Maybe Liza wasn’t trying to blackmail the guys. Maybe the pics were just a hobby for her.”
“Some hobby,” Clyde muttered.
“Well, some people hunt animals and mount their heads on the wall. And others ... well, others do what Liza did.”
At that moment Clyde’s cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. Sean could tell from the expression on Clyde’s face that it wasn’t Mrs. Clyde. He kept on saying “yup.” Then he said “thanks” and hung up.
“That was one of the ADAs,” he said. “He called to tell me they’re thinking of charging Duncan with Liza’s murder.”
“I was afraid of that,” Sean murmured. “What’s their basis?”
“The photos on Liza’s laptop. Lucy is claiming Duncan killed her out of jealousy.”
Sean gave a sigh of relief. “That’s not going to hold.”
“Have they arrested Duncan yet?” Bernie asked Clyde.
Clyde shook his head. “Lucy is in there debating it with the ADA even as we speak.”
Sean steepled his fingers together. “I’ll bet anything it’s a ploy to get Duncan and his lawyer to the table.”
“You think?” Bernie said.
“I know,” Sean replied.
“All I know,” Libby said, “is that Bree will not be pleased.”
Bernie chimed in with, “That’s putting it mildly. I think she’s going to want answers.”
“We all want answers,” Sean said.
“Especially Duncan,” Marvin said.
“Assuming he didn’t do it,” Clyde said.
Marvin looked around the room. “Well, we are, aren’t we?”
A Catered St. Patrick's Day Page 12