“I probably shouldn’t have touched it. I know that now, but I didn’t know what it was at first.”
Tip put on a pair of gloves and examined the note.
I know what happened to Barbara. Don’t think you can do the same to me. I have all the information Barbara had, and I want $10 million. If you do what I say, you’ll never hear from us again.
“There’s no signature,” Tip said. “We’ll have it processed, but I’m willing to bet there won’t be any prints.”
I looked over at Anne. She was trembling, and her hands were shaking badly. “Is that all there was in the package?”
At first, she sat still, then she shook her head. “There was a video on a USB drive.”
I shot a look to Tip, then back to her. “Do you still have the video?”
She nodded. “If you don’t mind closing those doors, I’ll show you.”
I shut the doors, then returned to the chair.
Anne was fidgeting with a computer screen. She pressed a few keys, opened the movie player, and hit the play button.
Within a few seconds, it was obvious that whoever had recorded this video had also recorded the one we watched of Camwyck and the president. It was a different hotel room, and Camwyck wore different clothes, but aside from that it was the same. Except this video portrayed Camwyck and Ingle.
It didn’t take long for Camwyck to undress, and once she did, she waited for RB to get naked. She poured a couple of drinks, then they both sat on the bed. After they finished the first drink, Ingle pulled her to him and they kissed.
Anne spoke, but it seemed like a struggle. Her voice was filled with anger, and hurt.
“As you can see, that is Ms. Camwyck doing what she does best.’
“You don’t need to sit through this,” I said.
“I’ve watched this a dozen times…wondering what it is that is so special about her. What she does that makes her so desirable.”
I elected not to respond. The video progressed as expected. Anne choked up when RB gave Camwyck oral sex, then, when he entered her, Anne got up and walked away from the computer.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Even though I’ve seen this before, I still get upset.”
I stopped the video so she didn’t have to endure watching it again. I couldn’t imagine what she felt like. “We don’t need to do this.”
She didn’t say anything, just sobbed. I grabbed some tissues from a table and handed them to her.
“Thank you.”
I wanted to hug her, make her feel better, but I didn’t even know how. If that had been Mary on the video and I were watching it…
“I think you better go,” she said. She ejected the USB and handed it to me. “Keep the video. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
I looked to Tip and he nodded. I turned back to Anne and said, “We’ll try to keep this low profile. If we can solve the case without bringing this up…”
She shook her head, reached into her purse and handed us business cards.
“That’s my private cell number. Call me if you have questions. I need closure on this.”
I put the card in my wallet. Tip slipped his into his shirt pocket. “Thanks, we will,” he said.
She looked as if she wanted to go, but she hadn’t moved yet. She lifted her head and studied me and then Tip, saying, “I guess what got me so upset is not why he would cheat, but why would he cheat with her. I mean, look at her. I know I’m not unattractive?”
What was I supposed to say. I had been looking at Camwyck, and sick as it was to say, knowing what became of her, she was damned sexy. I thought Tip might answer, but he didn’t. I gulped. “No, ma’am. You’re right. You are not unattractive; in fact, you are very attractive.”
“But…”
“I’m sure I blushed. I felt as if I did. “Pardon me, ma’am.”
“There was a “but” at the end of your sentence, Detective. You obviously didn’t want to say it, but it was there.”
Damn, this lady was good. I tried responding without stammering. “I’m sure your husband’s actions have nothing to do with you. You are a classy woman—”
“But she is the kind men want to screw. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
I hesitated, but decided the truth was best. “In kinder words, yes.”
Her face softened, she smiled, then she headed toward the door with me admiring her the whole way. But this time I wasn’t admiring her legs or her butt, just feeling sorry for her.
Before she reached the door, Tip said, “You watched the whole thing?”
She turned and looked at Tip. Her eyes closed briefly. “I don’t know about the women you associate with, but in my neck of the woods if a mysterious package arrives addressed to a woman’s husband and it contains a mysterious note…”
“Just checking, ma’am.”
“There’s no way he killed her,” Anne said.
The statement took me by surprise. “Why would you say that?”
“I know my husband. He might be a son of a bitch, especially as far as being faithful goes, but he wouldn’t murder Ms. Camwyck, or anyone else.”
“Not even if she was blackmailing him?” Tip said.
She looked Tip in the eyes. “Do you know what Bob is worth?”
“A lot of money,” Tip said.
“Almost a billion dollars,” she said. “This note is asking for a few million.” Anne lowered her head and shook it. “He’s lost almost that much playing poker with his friends.”
“Do you have any idea what the reference to Ms. Camwyck meant?” Tip asked. “Or what information the note referred to?”
“I haven’t a clue,” Anne said.
“Do you know who sent the package?” I asked. “Or who the ‘us’ in the note is?”
She walked to a desk in the library and opened the top drawer. “I saved the shipping label.”
“Don’t touch it!” I said, and rushed over to where she was.
“I forgot,” Anne said. “That was foolish of me. But I’m afraid I’ve already handled it several times.”
“That’s all right,” Tip said. “The lab might still be able to find something. There will be other prints on it anyway—the delivery men, packagers, and probably too many others to count.”
“Dallas,” I said, after looking at the label. “Overnight delivery the day before she died.”
Anne moved closer and looked at the label. “That can’t be right. This arrived long after Ms. Camwyck died.”
“Not Camwyck,” I said. “The woman who was killed in Dallas. She was murdered the day you received this package.”
“And you think…that’s ridiculous,” Anne said. “Bob might lose his temper now and then, but he’d never kill anyone.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Tip said, “but we have to check everything.”
“Does your husband know you received this package?” I asked.
She wrinkled her brow. “I’m not stupid, Detective.”
I smiled. “Okay, we’re going to take this and have it analyzed. If you think of anything else, call us.” I put the shipping label into an evidence bag while Tip gathered the rest of the evidence.
“We’ll be in touch,” I said, and we headed for the door.
On the way back to the station, Tip said, “All of a sudden we have a lot of videos popping up.”
“Yeah, and I don’t understand why she would defend Ingle, especially after watching that video.”
“Money,” Tip said. “And because his son is really only her son. My guess is she’ll put up with anything to stay married to that much money.”
“Which makes me wonder why she showed us that video.”
“I’ve been thinking about that myself,” Tip said. “If she’s convinced her husband is innocent, why give the cops evidence that incriminates him in at least one murder?”
“A lot to think about,” I said. “Not the least of which is the timeline. We know Ingle called Patti Richards th
e day before she died.”
“Which we now know is the day that package was mailed,” Tip said.
“And the very next day, Ingle goes to Dallas…”
“And Patti Richards is killed,” Tip said.
“Lot of damn coincidences,” I said.
“A few too many for me,” Tip said. “I think we need to talk to Coop and then have another talk with Ingle.”
“Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER 43
ALIBIS
When we arrived at the station, we headed straight for Coop’s office. She’d want to see the video.
“Don’t forget,” Tip said, “We’re not going to mention Cybil.”
“I didn’t forget. Besides, we’ve got plenty to keep Coop busy.”
Coop was at her desk when we entered. “You boys must have something good, if you’re coming to my office without being asked or ordered.”
We filled her in on what we learned from Santos, and then about our talks with RB and his bodyguard. And then Tip placed the USB drive on her desk.
Coop looked at the drive, then up at us. “Another video?”
“We haven’t seen all of it,” I said, “But this was delivered to RB Ingle’s house and intercepted by his wife.”
“That’s not gonna play well,” Coop said.
“What’s on the video?”
“We got far enough to see RB with Camwyck, much like her rendezvous with Tom Marsen.”
“Barbara always did get around,” Coop said, and shook her head.
Tip brought out the evidence bag and handed the blackmail note to Coop. “This came with the video.”
Coop put her glasses and held the bag up close. “I can’t read it like this, and I don’t want to take it out.”
“No need, Captain. I remember what it says.”
“Don’t keep me guessing.”
I recited it from memory.
I know what happened to Barbara. Don’t think you can do the same to me. I have all the information Barbara had, and I want $10 million. If you do what I say, you’ll never hear from us again.
“Us?” Coop said.
“Same thing we wondered,” Tip said.
Coop handed the USB and the note to Tip.
“Ask Cindy to make us a copy and then get the originals examined.”
When Tip came back, Coop seemed more serious. “This doesn’t look good for Bob Ingle.”
“Want us to go piss him off?” Tip asked.
“We’ve already pissed him off,” I said.
He’s gonna lawyer up.”
She cracked a smile. Considering her mood a moment ago, I was happy with that. “I have no doubts you could, and would, do that,” Coop said, “but let’s wait for our team to examine this evidence so we can see what’s on this video.”
Cindy came in with the copy of the flash drive and handed it to Coop.
“Time to watch the movie, boys. Get your hands out of your pockets.” Coop put the drive in her computer and brought the movie up on the monitor.
It turned out to be very similar to the video we saw of Camwyck and the president, although Barbara didn’t seem as animated with Ingle as she had been with Marsen. It made me wonder about her feelings toward RB.
When it was finished, Coop looked at us.
“That’s it?”
“That’s all we’ve got,” I said.
She focused on the screen, then the ceiling. “I’ve known Bob Ingle a long time. He’s an ass, and a son of a bitch, and maybe even a crook, but I can’t see him killing Barbara over something like this. And I definitely can’t see him killing two people, let alone dismembering them. I don’t think it was him.”
“That’s a lot of money they were asking for,” I said.
Coop pursed her lips. “Not to him it wasn’t. He’s been known to piss away a few million dollars for a fun weekend.”
“If it wasn’t about sex, why were these women killed?” I asked.
Coop pointed a finger at me. “That’s exactly what you have to figure out.”
She frowned and said, “How was Anne, if you bothered to notice?”
“I noticed,” Tip said. “She was sexy as hell.”
Gladys buried her head in her hands. “Why me, God?”
I realized we needed to salvage this situation, so I quickly said, “We did take our minds off her long enough to wonder why she showed us the video,” I said. “She seemed convinced her husband was innocent—at least of the murders—but then she gave us evidence that incriminated him in at least one murder. Kind of strange.”
Coop leaned back in her chair and folded her hands behind her head. “We’ve got Barbara having sex with Ingle and the president. And according to the detective in Dallas, we have Patti engaging in sex with the president.” She paused for a moment then sat up straight and said, “Suppose this isn’t about RB Ingle?”
The implication made me shiver. “You’re talking about the president of the United States, Captain.”
“I know who I’m talking about. I knew the son of a bitch when he was young.” She stood and walked between us, and then she walked around us. “Earlier I said that Bob Ingle was an ass and a son of a bitch and maybe even a crook. Tom Marsen is a whole lot worse than that.”
Tip moved over and sat on the edge of her desk. “You can’t think the president…”
“I don’t know what to think,” Coop said. “But I know that if Tom had anything to do with this he’d be smart enough not to get his hands dirty, and that means Bob Ingle is probably involved even if it’s only covering things up. So get your asses over there and piss him off some more, and if he tells you to talk to his lawyer, arrest him.”
“Is that an order, Captain?” Tip asked.
“Damn straight it is,” she said.
We drove back to Ingle’s office, and I have to admit, I was excited by the prospect of clamping a set of cuffs on RB. “I can’t believe Coop supported us like that.”
Tip looked over at me and laughed. “I’m guessing she and Ingle didn’t quite get along back in East Texas, at least that’s my take on it. Every now and then old Gladys does the right thing.”
“I can’t wait to see how Ingle reacts. This should be fun.”
We walked inside, and Tip said hi to Laurie, who looked as if she hadn’t moved from her spot behind the desk in the lobby.
“Here to see Mr. Ingle,” he said.
Jonathan came out to greet us and led us to the same room as before. Ingle was waiting, and no one offered us drinks. I was almost insulted.
Ingle was standing and looking impatient. “What is it, detectives? I’m busy.”
“We have more questions,” I said.
“I told you I was through answering questions. If you need anything you can talk to my lawyer.”
“I’m afraid that answer won’t do,” Tip said. “We have questions about the club you visited in Dallas, and about your relationship with Ms. Camwyck.”
RB grabbed a notepad from the table and wrote something on it, then handed it to Tip. “My lawyer’s name and number.”
“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Tip said. He grabbed hold of RB’s arm and slapped the cuffs on him.
“What the hell are you doing?” RB said.
“Taking you downtown,” I said. “You can have your lawyer meet you.”
“Are you crazy? I’ll have your badge. I’ll—”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Tip said, and then he finished the Miranda rights.
RB threatened us all the way to the car, only stopping to tell Jonathan to call his lawyer. “Tell him where they’re taking me. Tell him he better be there by the time I arrive.”
Ingle stopped talking long before we hit the station, and he never said a word as we led him to the interrogation room.
“You want coffee or something else to drink?” I asked.
He glared at me but said nothing.
I left him alone, with a uniformed officer at the door, and then
Tip and I went to see Coop. We crossed paths on the way to her office.
“I hear we have Mr. Ingle as a guest,” she said.
“News travels fast,” said Tip.
“Only bad news,” she said. “I’ve already had calls from the chief and from Cybil.”
“Tell John I said to mind his own business,” Tip said. “But you can handle Cybil.”
Coop picked up the pace as we turned the corner toward the interview room. “Did his lawyer get here yet?”
“As of a few minutes ago he hadn’t but he’ll show up soon,” I said.
The lawyer was in the room with Ingle when we entered. Ingle stood, his hand extended to greet Coop. “Good to see you again, Gladys.”
Coop shot his lawyer a look and said, “Why don’t you leave Bob and I alone for a minute.”
Before the guy could object, Ingle nodded. “It’s okay. Gladys and I are old friends.”
Tip and I left the room along with Ingle’s lawyer.
“Turn off the camera,” Coop said, facing the one-way mirror.
***
Coop pulled a chair out from the table and sat across from Ingle. “Been a long time, Bob.”
“If you mean other than political events and bullshit parties—yes, it has.”
Coop leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. “How about we cut the bullshit, and you tell me what the hell is going on?”
Bob looked at Coop and shook his head. “You can’t believe I’d do any of this nonsense? That I’d have sex with Barbara?”
“Can’t believe it?” Coop said. “I saw the goddamn video, Bob.”
Ingle held her fixed for a long time. “It must have been faked, or perhaps from a long time ago.”
Coop held his gaze. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said; besides, I’ve known you since we were kids. You and Tom Marsen both would screw a snake if someone held it still. So don’t tell me you wouldn’t do Barbara Camwyck, though, for the life of me, I don’t know why with the wife you have. She’s gorgeous.”
Ingle sat motionless and silent.
“All right, Bob. It’s like I said before, let’s cut the shit. I don’t care who you went to bed with. I’m only interested in why these girls were killed and who did it.”
Old Wounds, a Gino Cataldi Mystery Page 22