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Take a Dive for Murder

Page 11

by Millie Mack

22

  “How did you know who I was?” Carrie asked, and then she answered her own question. “Ah, I gave my name to the bank representative, and of course there’s Officer Reynolds.”

  “I asked Officer Reynolds to keep his eyes open for any activity or interest in the Faraday case. Reynolds gave me your name and said you were a friend of the family who was looking around the scene. I called Charles Faraday to find out about you.”

  Carrie could feel her face getting hot. “And what did Mr. Faraday say?”

  “He said you and his brother were college friends. The family wasn’t sure why his brother contacted you, but he verified that his brother left you a letter requesting you investigate his death. But back to my original question: what were you doing tonight?” Becker was very well spoken which Carrie didn’t expect.

  “I’m also sorting Jamie’s papers and I’m checking to see if he was writing a story.” Carrie worked hard to keep her voice calm and even. “So tonight I was doing research to get more of a complete picture of what he was doing the night he died.”

  “In order to complete my picture of what happened, as you phrase it, I want this letter that Mr. Faraday left you. If James Faraday knew he was in danger and his death should be investigated, then that letter is police evidence,” He emphasized the word evidence.

  “Unfortunately, Captain, since the letter seemed to be causing problems, after I read it I got rid of it. However, I can assure you his letter left no clues or indicated any danger he might be in. It simply asked me to investigate his death if it wasn’t by natural causes.”

  Carrie hoped her phrasing would lead Captain Becker to believe she destroyed the letter.

  Carrie’s phrasing worked, as Becker snapped back, “You did what? Didn’t you realize the letter was evidence in a death that may not be accidental? See, this is what happens when amateurs decide to play detective. Vital evidence is lost.” Becker had lost control. His face was flush and a small vein on the side of his neck was protruding. Carrie thought he was about to continue his rant but instead he refilled his cup of coffee from a thermos he had next to him. He took a big gulp, which seemed to help him regain his composure.

  “I have an extra cup. You want some coffee,” he offered. Carrie shook her head no. Then the captain asked, “What do you mean the letter was causing problems?”

  Carrie sat quietly, trying to decide how much information to tell Becker. She didn’t care for his outburst, and the police investigation under his direction was stalled. However, he did admit Jamie’s death might not be accidental.

  “If you don’t want to cooperate, I could run you in for interfering in a police investigation.”

  Now Carrie was annoyed. “I’m more than happy to share information. I was just gathering my thoughts. How about a little background before I tell you why I think the letter was creating problems. First, I wasn’t aware of Jamie’s death until I received a call from a mutual friend. He also informed me about the letter.”

  “Would this mutual friend be Joel Wheeler?”

  “Yes, but how did…?”

  “Mr. Wheeler has contacted us several times about our progress on the case as an interested friend of Mr. Faraday. So Wheeler called you about the death, not the family?”

  Carrie didn’t like the inference, but she carefully answered, “I think the family felt that it would be easier for me to hear the news from Joel. You have to understand that while Jamie and I were close friends in college, I was never particularly close with his family.”

  “I see…the family also thinks you’re intruding. Anyway, back to this letter you received.”

  Carrie gritted her teeth and responded, “I received the letter at the funeral luncheon from Simpson, Faraday’s lawyer. That’s when I realized there was a great deal of interest in the letter.” Carrie told Becker how she asked Simpson to hold the letter and then later changed her mind and asked Simpson to give her back the letter. “Later that night Simpson was mugged.”

  “You honestly think Simpson was attacked to get the letter?”

  “Simpson told me that while his assailants thought he was unconscious, he heard them say they were looking for the letter.”

  “Interesting. I’ll take a look at that report when I get back to the office. Now tell me about these two men who were chasing you.”

  “All right, I’ll level with you, Captain Becker. After talking to Officer Reynolds, I was heading back to the parking lot. Two men were standing by my car. I didn’t like their looks, and I decided to head back to the Admiral’s Saloon for safety. They spotted me. The next thing I knew, they were chasing me.”

  “Can you give me a description of the men?” He placed his coffee cup on the dashboard and took out a small notebook.

  “The one man’s name is Bill.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “When I was stretched out on the bank floor, they both came up and looked in the window. I heard the one man call the other man Bill. Both men wore jeans with dark jackets. One man is about six-foot-three and stocky, like a weightlifter. The second man is small, about five-foot-six with a slight build. Together they looked like Mutt…” Carrie stopped mid-sentence. She was using the same phrase that Reynolds used to describe two of the three men on the pier the night Jamie was killed.

  “You were about to say Jeff? They looked like Mutt and Jeff.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Carrie confirmed.

  “And you’ve never seen these men before? Maybe you saw them at the funeral or earlier tonight at the Admiral’s Saloon?”

  “No, I never saw them before tonight.” Carrie decided not to tell Becker about the garage incident. Although she had no doubt in her mind they were the same two men, she didn’t want to tell him they appeared after a lunch with Joel. She still wasn’t willing to admit Bill and his friend might have a relationship with Joel.

  Becker broke the silence, “I guess that’s about it, Ms. Kingsford. I’ll follow-up with Simpson about his mugging, and I’ll add your adventure tonight to the Faraday file.”

  “I thought the file on Jamie Faraday’s death was closed,” said Carrie.

  “No, it’s not closed because I haven’t closed the file. I don’t like it when little events like a mugging or your incident tonight occur on what is suppose to be an accidental death. It tells me there might be more to this case. It also tells me that there’s still danger associated with this case.”

  “You mean danger associated with these men?”

  “No, I mean you, Ms. Kingsford. You are a danger to this case. You feel you’ve been given…shall we say a ‘mission’ from a dead man, and you feel obligated to overturn every stone. Without knowing who or what you’re disturbing, you’re plowing ahead. Real clues are lost, like the letter. Not to mention you’re putting yourself in danger and causing problems for my department. Let’s assume James Faraday’s death wasn’t an accident. What do you think those two men were going to do to you tonight? Ask you some questions, mug you, or murder you?”

  Carrie until that moment really hadn’t given any thought to the possibility that those men were out to murder her. Her heart started to beat faster.

  “Ms. Kingsford, as of tonight I want you to stop your independent investigation! You can continue sorting Faraday’s writings, but no more excursions. If the sorting turns up something of interest, you call me.”

  With that, Becker reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card. He then wrote something on the back. “Here is my card with my office and cell phone number. If you discover something, you can call me at any time.” He reached across her and opened the door of the car.

  Carrie got out of the car, turned back to Becker, and said, “I appreciate your help tonight.”

  “Right, I’ll follow you onto the expressway to make sure those two guys aren’t around. But remember what I said: let the police do the investigating. I don’t want to be solving two murders.”

  23

  True to his word, Captain Beck
er followed Carrie onto the expressway and maintained his surveillance for several exits.

  As Carrie drove back, her one nagging question was: who alerted those men to her activities? Was she followed when she left the house? No, she checked her rearview mirror regularly and was sure she wasn’t followed from the house. Christopher was in the kitchen when she told Mrs. Cavanaugh she was going out for dinner. Would he have told someone, like Charles? Was the Admiral’s Saloon under surveillance? What about Officer Reynolds? No, he’s in the clear, she thought. The men were already waiting at the car when I walked away from Reynolds. Besides, Reynolds was somewhere alerting Becker that I was on the pier.

  Carrie checked her rearview mirror one more time as she took the freeway exit for the Faradays. She also checked for strange cars as she drove down the street to the house. The street was quiet, with the residents’ cars neatly tucked away in their driveways or garages.

  Carrie turned her car lights out before entering the driveway so as not to disturb the family. She parked her car on the pad in front and to the left of the garage and entered the house by the kitchen door. A nightlight in the kitchen was sufficient to guide her into the main hallway. She was starting up the steps when the study door opened behind her and Charles came out into the hallway.

  “Are you all right? I’ve been very worried about you. Captain Becker called and said you were in trouble. Then he hung up before giving any details. That man is maddening! I was going to drive down to the harbor to try to find you, but I didn’t know where you were. And with my knee…well, I still can’t walk long distances.” Charles raced through his sentences.

  Carrie was still peeved over Charles’s explanation to Becker about her, but on the other hand, it was sweet that he waited up for her.

  “I’m fine…just a minor incident. A couple of men followed me after I finished my dinner. Did Christopher tell you I was having dinner out?”

  “Christopher? I haven’t talked to Christopher all night. He went to the movies with some of his friends and then came home and went to bed.”

  Carrie thought to herself; Good, I’m glad it wasn’t Christopher who told. Then she said to Charles, “I was at the Admiral’s Saloon and the food is very good. Have you ever eaten there?”

  “I’ve eaten there many times, especially since Jamie’s death. You didn’t happen to wander out onto Pier Seven?”

  Guilt must have shown on Carrie’s face because before she could answer, Charles added, “I thought so. I wish you had asked me to go along with you.”

  “I didn’t ask you because of your knee. Besides, I only wanted to see the spot where Jamie went into the water. I certainly didn’t think just looking at the spot would invite trouble. And while I appreciate your concern, what was this story you told Becker? Something about you have no idea why Jamie selected me to investigate his death?”

  “Good old Becker. Look, that’s not what I said. Let’s go into the study so we don’t wake everyone, and I’ll tell you what I actually said. Then you can tell me why you called the police for help.”

  Carrie would have preferred to go to bed. It had been a long day and a tough night, but she obediently followed Charles into the study. He went to a desk and removed a small tan leather notebook and pen. She wondered if this book was similar to one that Jamie used. She took a seat at a round table where a jigsaw puzzle lay partially completed. Charles waited until Carrie was seated, and then sat across from her, displaying a warm smile. Again, Carrie thought what a good-looking man Charles was and wondered why he never married. He had the same strong face as Jamie, with soft blue-gray eyes that could hold you captive and thick, wavy hair. Somehow the silver color didn’t make him look old, just distinguished. She snapped back to reality as Charles continued talking.

  “First, when Becker called, he gave no information. He said you were snooping around the pier and could I identify who you were. I told him you were a friend of Jamie’s from college and that Jamie left you instructions to look into his death. Becker asked if the family knew about Jamie’s intentions. I said no, we had no knowledge of Jamie’s plan to contact you. Before I could add anything, he said he had to go because you called the police for help. I hope you see the negative slant was Becker’s, not mine.”

  “I’m sorry for my rudeness, but Becker made it sound like I was this intruder the family didn’t want around.”

  “I really don’t care for that guy,” Charles said. “Every time I ask him for an update, he says it’s an open case and he can’t discuss details. But nothing seems to happen.”

  “He told me the same thing that the case is not closed. And he added that he doesn’t like when incidents, such as what happened to me tonight occur on an accidental death case.”

  “That’s good to know, but what happened tonight? Why did you call the police?”

  Carrie hesitated. From the moment she had arrived in TriCity, someone was out to stop her from learning about Jamie’s death. She felt the need to share her information with someone, but should that someone be Charles?

  Charles must have read her thoughts because he asked, “Still not sure if you can trust me?”

  Carrie looked at this man who possessed the same quiet charm as Jamie. Was she being lured into trusting Charles because of her past feelings for Jamie? Could this man have been involved with the death of his brother? She decided the answer was no.

  “I know I need to trust someone, and despite our differences in the past, I know Jamie trusted you. I’ll trust Jamie’s judgment. Can I have your promise that what I tell you will not be shared with anyone else?”

  “You’ve my word of honor, as Jamie’s brother.”

  “Okay, this is what I’ve learned so far. Jamie’s letter, contrary to what everyone thinks, didn’t reveal any startling facts. It simply stated that if his death was questionable, he would rely on my analytical skill to determine if it was murder.”

  “Nothing else…no hints of what he was investigating or why he thought he was in danger?” Disappointment showed in Charles’s face.

  “Nothing. So while you and I think Jamie was murdered, the letter offered no magic bullet for a quick solution. However, the ‘bad guys’ don’t know this, and I think that’s why they are trying to find the letter. I know that’s why Simpson was mugged, and that’s why they were after me.”

  Carrie told Charles about her trip to the Admiral’s Saloon, her discussion with Officer Reynolds, his description of the three men the night of Jamie’s murder, and then her chase through the streets, which ended with a rescue by the TriCity police and Captain Becker.

  “That was very clever to hide out in the bank. I’m not sure I’d have the presence of mind to think of that. You know, your adventure tonight has one positive result. It supports our belief my brother was murdered. However, on the negative side, you’ve placed yourself in danger. No, I can’t have this. Starting tonight, I don’t want you doing any more investigating!”

  Charles was starting to sound like Becker. At that moment, Carrie saw where a piece of the jigsaw puzzle fit. She took the puzzle piece and angled it into position. She looked up at Charles and said, “Charles, you know I’m not going to do that. I’m going to finish what Jamie asked me to do. It just means I have to be more careful.”

  Charles was silent for a moment and then added, “I remember Jamie telling me that once you’re committed to a project there’s no stopping you. All right, then, I propose a compromise. Starting tonight, we share all information and we don’t do anything alone. No more solo excursions. Deal?”

  “Actually, I’d like that. Deal!”

  Charles and Carrie shook hands and then Charles looked at the notes he made during Carrie’s narration. “You believe ‘Bill’ and the other man chasing you were two of the three men Officer Reynolds saw the night of the murder.”

  “You have to admit the descriptions match those two. However, it’s the third man that sounds like the boss. That’s who we need to find.”

  “Older
with graying hair and dressed in a suit isn’t much of a clue. It could be hundreds of men. Most of the men who were at Jamie’s funeral have gray hair, including Simpson, Stone, and Joel, staff reporters, editors, and me. That’s assuming this third man is someone we know.”

  “Remember, Reynolds never saw the man’s face. Just because he has gray hair doesn’t mean he’s old. I mean, you have…” Carrie stopped.

  “It’s all right. I’ll take that as a compliment that you no longer see me as old. I think there was a time when you and Jamie thought me ancient. Funny, as people grow older, a six-year difference grows smaller,” he said, reflecting back.

  Suddenly Carrie bolted to the French windows.

  “What is it?” Charles asked.

  “I’m sure I saw a light in the studio.”

  Charles joined her at the window. “Are you sure? Sometimes you can get a reflection from car lights on the street.”

  “I didn’t hear a car, and this was more like a flashlight.” She grabbed her keys. “I’m going to check.”

  “Not without me! Remember the pact we just made.”

  24

  Carrie headed for the kitchen door with Charles hobbling as fast as he could behind her. She pulled the white sheer kitchen door curtain back slightly and peered out while she quietly unlocked the door. As she slowly pulled the door open, a loud crash behind her caused her to fall against the door.

  “Ouch, damn it,” said Charles.

  “Charles! Charles, where are you?” She couldn’t see clearly in the darkened kitchen and was forced to turn on the light. She saw Charles slumped on the floor between several pots and pans, holding a frying pan. “Good grief,” she said as she rushed to his side. She helped extract him from the pots and got him to a kitchen chair.

  “Thanks. I hope we haven’t awakened the entire house,” he said, rubbing his ankle.

  “What do you mean ‘we’?” Carrie said laughing and then added, “What happened?”

  “I guess I was moving a little too fast, and my knee gave out. I started to lose my balance and reached out to grab hold of something. Unfortunately, it was the pan rack I grabbed. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor. I’m okay now. Let’s go.” He stood up and limped toward the door.

 

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