by I. L. Wolf
“—Chale”
“Chale’s brother?”
He nodded, his spikes of hair flopping. “Yes.”
“OK, I’ve heard enough,” said Detective James, starting the engine. “I’ve got to take him to the station. You can come with us, Venetia, but that’s where he’s got to go.”
“She didn’t die. She didn’t just die. She was murdered,” Brooks said.
“I looked into the case,” said Cadby. “And the guy was convicted. End of story.”
“It wasn’t the end of the story,” said Brooks. “They…you…never even bothered to get to the end of the story. You got some random guy—”
“He wasn’t a random guy. There was enough evidence to convict him.”
“Alden Sway killed her. And you let him go free. You didn’t protect her.” This last he said to Venetia, who was half-turned in her seat.
“I know,” she said quietly. “I tried, and I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I believe you,” said Brooks. “I wasn’t really going to use the gun. I only needed to make sure you weren’t anywhere where someone was listening.”
“That doesn’t actually explain why you had it.”
“It seemed like a good idea.”
“It really, really wasn’t,” said Cadby. “Was that the package you wanted to give Venetia?”
“What?” Brooks face collapsed into a sea of bewildered folds. “What? No, of course not. A gun? What do you think I am?”
“I think you’re someone who tried to abduct a police officer and a lawyer—”
“Former lawyer,” Venetia said.
He shot her a look. “Former lawyer,” he corrected.
“I’m not like that, I swear. It’s only that it’s so hard going through every single day, knowing he’s out there, that he got away with it. And he didn’t have to kill her, it was only insurance. That was all.”
“Insurance? Do you mean a policy?”
“No, the documents. She only kept them so that he wouldn’t hurt her. Didn’t help.”
“What documents?” Cadby said. “They didn’t find anything like that on her.”
“She wouldn’t have had them on her,” he said. “She gave them to Venetia.”
Cadby turned the still-idling car off. “You withheld evidence from the police?”
“No,” she said. “Absolutely not.”
“She gave them to you,” said Brooks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Are you sure?” he said. “She said she gave them to you. I don’t know how you’d miss them, based on what she said.”
She put her chin in her hand and stared, distractedly, as she thought. “I can’t remember her giving me anything like that. Maybe your package would help?”
“I doubt it,” he said, “it’s about you, not her.”
“About me? Why? What is it?”
“Can we take off the cuffs? They’re really starting to hurt.”
“I bet they are,” said Detective James. “No.”
“Come on,” Venetia said, “he’s a grieving brother. It’s understandable, I wasn’t even related to her and I couldn’t stand practicing afterward.”
“Really?” Brooks said.
“Yeah,” she said. “Really.”
“So you are sorry. You meant that.”
“Of course I did,” said Venetia.
“Before this love fest goes any further, I hate to remind you, but this guy is violent.”
“I already told you why I had the gun. I’m not violent. Not really.” Brooks shifted, the cuffs tight on his wrists.
“So what do you call knocking women unconscious?” Cadby said.
Venetia felt a wave of cold. “Billie,” she said.
“Not exactly how I’d conduct an interrogation,” said Cadby, “but while I’m on the subject, where were you at about 4:30 p.m. yesterday?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “The package is in my pocket.”
“You assaulted a woman yesterday, didn’t you, Brooks? Knocked her unconscious? Maybe you thought she was Venetia? Maybe she had something you wanted?
“No,” he said. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t do anything. I tried to go to give her the package, and there were all these cops, and an ambulance. I didn’t want to risk it. And besides, this woman called me, she told me she thought she knew where the documents might be.”
“She called you.”
“Yes.”
“How did she get your number?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “She just called me. She told me she knew what I was looking for and where I could find it.”
“And you have absolutely no idea who she was or how she found you?”
“Well,” he said.
“Well?”
“I’ve been offering a reward.”
Detective James appraised his worn jeans, his fraying shirt. “A reward?”
“Yes,” he said, “a reward. For information that would link Brenna’s husband to her death.”
“And how have you been advertising that reward?”
“I don’t know, everywhere. Different message boards. Social websites. Whatever.”
“How much?” said Venetia.
“How much?” Cadby said to her. “Really?”
“I’m not trying to get my hands on the money,” she said, “I’m curious. How much?”
“One-and-a-half.”
“One-and-a-half what?”
“Million,” he said.
“You are planning to pay one-point-five-million dollars in reward money.”
“For information that leads to the conviction of Brenna’s scumbag of a murdering ex-husband,” Brooks said.
“And you have been posting that all over the internet?”
“And other places.”
“How do you have that kind of money?”
“That’s a rude question,” said Brooks.
“This isn’t a tea party,” Detective James said. “So if I were you, I’d answer the question.”
“Family money. I had a business. And when Brenna died, her holdings came to me.”
“She executed a new will before she died,” said Venetia. “I referred her out to a lawyer who specializes in them. Otherwise, it would have all gone to her husband because they weren’t divorced yet.”
“You mean her scumbag of a murdering ex-husband,” Brooks said.
“I thought that was implied,” she said. “What?” she countered Cadby’s glower. “I’ve always thought Alden Sway did it. In fact, I know he did it. I didn’t know how, or why she was so sure he would. Besides, if I remember correctly from discovery…” she trailed off.
“What’s happening?” said Cadby.
“There was a family trust,” she said, her voice still faraway. “Which would have gone to you,” she turned to Brooks, looked at him without seeing him, “there were no kids and your parents are gone.”
“What’s going on with you,” said Detective James. “Why have you gotten so weird?”
“Discovery,” she said again. “I never closed out the file. I still have all of the discovery from the litigation.”
“And you think the documents he’s talking about are there?”
She shrugged. “It’s worth taking a look, don’t you think?”
“Back to the woman,” said Detective James, “who was she?”
“I have no idea. I talked to her on Sunday first, she told me she thought she knew where there was evidence to get at Brenna’s scumbag—”
“We get the point,” Cadby said.
“She said she’d call me back with a time and date to meet. So she called me yesterday. She never showed. That’s when I went to give you the package, but there were all those flashing lights.”
“How did you know where I live?”
“Not hard to do if you have an internet connection. The city isn’t exactly filled with lawyers—”
“Ex-lawyers.”
&n
bsp; “Named Venetia Shipman.”
“That woman, she called you?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Did she block her number?” Cadby said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Then call her.”
“I can’t.”
“Why am I not surprised by your reluctance?”
“No, I really can’t,” he said, indicating the cuffs. “If you’ll take them off…”
“Nope,” he said. He reached back between the seats and tried to get a hand into Brooks’ front right pocket. “Not going to work,” he said.
He got out of the car and opened the back seat. “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out,” he said. Brooks slowly complied. Cadby moved him out of the way of the door and closed it.
“Hey, come on, no need to get rough,” said Brooks.
“What’s happening?” Venetia said, unable to see anything from her seat inside the car.
“We’re finding out who this mystery woman is,” said Cadby, “And we might as well see what’s in that package while we’re at it.” He patted Brooks down. An elderly woman walked past them, her eyes glued on the action.
“Buy a guy dinner first, won’t you?” said Brooks. She picked up her pace, looking once behind her as she headed for the elevators.
“Cute,” Cadby said, digging into Brooks’ pockets. He pulled out a small zipped plastic baggie filled with what looked like tissue paper. “Is this the package?” Brooks nodded. “Doesn’t seem quite worth breaking into a van to deliver.”
“I wasn’t delivering it at the van. I was delivering it at her condo.”
“That’s not making it better. Where’s your phone?”
“Back left,” Brooks said. He didn’t move away from the car.
“Turn around,” said Cadby.
“Yeah, right,” he said, taking small steps until he was facing the car. Cadby managed to get the phone out. “What else are you carrying? Any ammunition?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“You’re carrying a gun.”
“It would take a pretty dumb person to put live ammo in his pocket,” said Brooks.
“Are you sure you’re not carrying ammunition?”
“Ouch,” he said. “Apparently my impression so far hasn’t been too favorable.”
“Shocking,” Cadby said.
“So what’s happening?” Venetia tried again.
“We’re getting back in the car,” said Cadby. He opened the back door, ducked Brooks inside, and then got into the driver’s seat.
“What’s that?” she said, pointing to the plastic bag.
“Apparently it’s your package.”
“Let me open it.”
“You’re kidding, right? You have absolutely no idea what’s in it, and this guy thinks you were the reason his sister died.”
“Not so much anymore,” Brooks said. “Not after meeting her. She agrees that Brenna’s ex-husband—”
“Is a murdering scumbag. Yes, I got it,” Detective James said.
“Aren’t you curious?” said Venetia.
“You know what they say curiosity does to cats,” Cadby said.
“It’s not going to hurt anyone,” said Brooks.
“Was she the last one who called you?”
“Who?’
“Who do you think? That woman.”
“I think so. Yes. Probably. Yes.” Cadby scrolled through the phone. “You know, you actually need a warrant for that,” said Brooks.
“Not with your consent,” he said. He pressed the screen, and then pressed it again.
Venetia’s purse started ringing. “Your phone,” he said.
“That’s not my phone,” she said. “That’s not my ring.”
Chapter 12
“How can it not be your phone? It’s your purse.”
She opened her huge back and combed through as the phone continued to ring. Finally, she found her cell. “See? Nothing.”
“Your purse is still ringing.” He hung up Brooks’ phone and her purse went silent. “Do you have something that you need to tell me?”
“Of course not,” she said. “Call it again.”
Shooting her a quick raised eyebrow, he tapped the screen. Again, her purse let out a trill. “Whatever number this is, it’s in your purse.”
“That’s some fine detective work,” she said, still trying to find the source of the ring, “but it’s not helping.”
“Why don’t you clean that thing out once in a while?” he said as she pulled out a handful of crumpled receipts. She didn’t respond. She kept going until she finally hit the bottom of the bag, fishing around the corners.
“Found it,” she said triumphantly as she pulled the phone out of her purse. Her face fell.
“What is it?” said Cadby.
“It’s Billie’s,” she said. “I grabbed it yesterday, after she was attacked.” Slowly they both turned to Brooks.
“What?” he said. “What? What is it?”
“She’s the woman you said you didn’t attack,” Venetia said, looking for the calling history. “And she called you at 4:13.”
“How do you know it was him?” Cadby said.
“Give me a little credit. That’s number that dialed the phone thirty seconds ago.” She held it up to him in case he still needed more convincing.
“That’s not looking good,” said Cadby. “Now I’m really taking you in, and, by the way, you have the right to remain silent—”
“Can I go see Billie?” Venetia said, opening her door. “Because I have a question or two.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he said, “what with the investigation.”
“Well they weren’t going to let you in anyway, so I’m the next best thing at this point.”
“I didn’t hurt anyone,” Brooks said. “You have to believe me.”
“I’d have to say I was feeling pretty sympathetic up until you called her phone.” She got out of the car, and then ducked her head back inside. “Besides, I really want to know if my friend of all these years was planning on trying to steal from me.”
“Steal from you?”
“Well, if Brenna gave me the documents—and I’m not saying that she did—then Billie would have to get them from me somehow.” A vivid image of Billie rifling through her desk yesterday popped into her head. “I take that back. I think she was trying to take something from me.” She straightened, closed the door, and got about three feet away before she came back and tapped on the window. “Oh, and you might want to finish Mirandizing him.”
“Yeah, hadn’t occurred to me,” Cadby said dryly.
“Be sarcastic if you want, but an arrest is an arrest.”
“OK, Madame Ex-Lawyer.”
After the unmarked car disappeared back through the maze of the garage, Venetia headed for the stairs and got as far as the first lobby before she had to sit down. She found a fabric-covered chair set off a little way from the others, pulled her purse into her lap, and tried to breathe.
Billie had definitely been looking for something in her desk, and that was, without a doubt, her phone number in Brooks’ phone. She’d called him, and she was trying to get the reward money. But why?
It didn’t help that Billie had also been there when Delenda died. Is it possible, after most of a lifetime, to not know a person at all?
Could Brooks have really assaulted Billie? He didn’t seem like the type, but then again, grief and anger did strange things to people. And of course Detective James had gone off with the package, she’d have to wait for that, too.
What a long, strange few days it had been.
“Heya doll,” Marlene said, sitting in the seat closest to her, which wasn’t all that close. She leaned toward her, half over the arm of the chair, as she spoke. “Watcha doing here?”
“Visiting Billie, she’s here. What are you doing here? And weren’t you here yesterday?”
“Nope,” she said, shak
ing her head, “wasn’t me.”
“Because the officer I was with was sure he saw you.”
“I saw nothing. You saw nothing. Let’s keep it at that,” Marlene said.
“So why are you here?”
“Just stopping by the pharmacy,” she said brightly. “How’re you hanging in? Anything you want to tell me about that Mason Certain character?”
“Why would you think I have something to tell you about Mason?”
“Oh, I don’t think anything. He’s taking a job in Poughkeepsie? He’s got a new brand of hair gel? You’ve broken up with him? Anything at all.”
“Why would I have broken up with him?”
“Well, when I wasn’t here yesterday, I may or may not have seen you, if I were here, I mean, which I wasn’t, with a not-so-bad-looking guy.”
“Come on, Marlene, that’s crazy. Why are you here, really? Two days in a row?”
“I told you, wasn’t here yesterday. And I’m here for the pharmacy.” She smiled widely across her broad face, but the corners of her blue eyes stayed firm. A small furrow found its way between her brows.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Venetia said. “I’m not sure how much more I can handle, anyway.”
“You can say that again,” Marlene said quietly.
“What?”
“Nothing, doll, nothing. Shouldn’t you be at the altar of the Great Sissy’s, uhhm…”
“I don’t think that metaphor’s quite there.”
“Lost track halfway through,” she said, pointing with her chin. Dane Froxen strode through the waiting area, not looking left or right, his color way off. He didn’t see them. “What do you think that’s about?”
“I have no idea,” said Venetia, “but I have some suspicions. Marlene, could I ask you a kind of ridiculous favor?”
“You know I’m always up for anything, the more ridiculous the better.”
“Do you need to get back to Water Me Green?’
She shrugged. “Julian’s out for the afternoon on a job, and my office goes everywhere with me.” She pulled her cell phone out of her fanny pack and waggled it around for emphasis.
“I can’t ask you to do this,” said Venetia. “Never mind. I’m seriously going bonkers.”
“Been there,” she said. “So what do you need me to do?”
“Can you follow Dane?”
“No problem,” she said.