Too Many Crooks Spoil the Plot
Page 24
“She’s in custody?” Dan asked.
“Nope. Disappeared. I think Sandler let her get away.”
“Wow. Everything tied up with a bow,” I said.
“Pretty much.”
“But she couldn’t have done the killings herself,” I said.
“Why, because she’s a woman?” Mason asked.
Before I could respond, Dan jumped in. “What about Schmiddy?”
“Same murderer. Had to be. Blakely got Schmiddy’s notes and delivered them to the chief. Cleared the file, so no one else would interrupt their plan.”
“And who pushed you off the road?” I asked.
“Charlie Flack, according to Sandler.”
“So is it really over?” I asked.
“I don’t think Marie or Charlie Flack are going to come back to find you or the kids,” Mason said.
“Thank God.” I stood up to carry dishes to the sink. Mason and Dan joined me.
“We’ll handle this,” Mason said to me. “Why don’t you let Lurleen know the news. It would be better if she hears it from you. I’ll tell my mom. Then I think we should celebrate.”
“Let’s go out for ice cream. Dairy Queen,” I called back as I headed upstairs.
I knocked on Lurleen’s door. No response. “Lurleen, I know you’re in there. This is no time to sulk. I’m coming in.”
I gave her five seconds and entered. No Lurleen. Instead, there was a note.
I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay cooped up any longer. I had to escape. I went down the back stairs and turned off the alarm. I must talk to Marie. Be back soon.
I didn’t panic right away. Marie Vanderling was undoubtedly long gone. Or was she? Did Lurleen know where Marie was?
I ran downstairs and told Mason what Lurleen had done. Then I grabbed my cell and texted Lurleen: Call us immediately. The case is solved. Don’t go near Marie.
Maybe that would get her attention. Five minutes later, my cell rang. It was Lurleen.
“What are you talking about?” Lurleen asked. “The case is solved?”
I explained to her what Mason had found out.
“But I’m here with Marie. In a hotel. She’s scared for her life. She isn’t the murderer.”
Chapter Thirty-six
I put Lurleen on speakerphone so Mason could hear. “Where are you, Lurleen? What hotel?”
“I can’t tell you that. Marie doesn’t trust anyone, including the police. I have to stay with her.”
“Listen to me carefully, Lurleen. You have to get out of there. Now. Use any excuse. Just get out of there.”
“I want to do what you say, but I can’t leave Marie.”
“All right. Then we’re coming to you.”
“No.” For the first time in her life, Lurleen hung up on me.
“Come on.” I grabbed Mason and pulled him upstairs. “I’m sure Marie called her for help. And if I know Lurleen, we’ll find the address somewhere in her room.” If Lurleen was on the phone, she was always doodling or writing down information so she wouldn’t forget it. It was there near the tub. A smudged and damp piece of paper with a picture of crackers and a car along with the name Amy Serandon. “Crackers and a car,” I said. “It’s the Ritz Carlton under that name. But which Ritz?”
“The one downtown, closest to the airport, I bet,” Mason said. “I’ll call it in for both locations. We’ll head downtown. Take your car?”
“Of course.” It had just been returned to me, newly washed and cleared of any evidence that Charlie Flack had ever been inside it.
We arrived at the downtown location but not before the police got there. And not before Marie had disappeared again. We found Lurleen sitting alone in the suite, eating See’s candy.
“She’s not guilty, you know,” she said to us and the policeman. The policeman deferred to Mason, who asked for time alone with Lurleen.
“She’s not acting like an innocent person, Lurleen. Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me where she was headed. She didn’t want to get me in trouble.”
“And who’s helping her leave town?” Mason asked. “Someone has to be.”
“She wouldn’t tell me that either.”
That’s the way the conversation went. Lurleen refused to say anything except that Marie was being falsely accused of crimes she didn’t commit.
“What about Kathleen Sandler?” Lurleen asked when Mason was done with his interrogation. “Why aren’t you talking to her?”
“We will. She’s out of town currently. It looks like we have the facts, Lurleen. Much as you don’t like them.”
“I don’t like them and I don’t believe them. Marie is a scapegoat.”
“If she is, then she’s in danger,” Mason said. “The real murderer, if it isn’t Marie, won’t let her survive to tell her side of the story.”
That got Lurleen’s attention. “Ah, mon dieu, you’re right, of course.” She stood up, grabbed her knockoff Chanel purse. “I’ll take you to her.”
We followed Marie in her yellow Citroën through downtown Atlanta and onto I-75/85 headed for the airport. She turned off on Riverdale Drive. She pulled into a gas station and began to pump gas. We drove to a second pump. Marie appeared from the small office and climbed into Lurleen’s car. It was there Mason confronted her. She made an attempt to leave, but Mason held the passenger door shut.
“How could you?” Marie said to Lurleen.
“For your safety,” Lurleen said. “I had no choice.”
Marie turned on Lurleen. “You’ve ruined everything. Everything.”
Mason radioed for a police car. I watched Lurleen’s face melt into a river of despair as two officers arrived to take Marie to the station.
Chapter Thirty-seven
I took Lurleen home in my Toyota. Mason followed in her Citroën. She didn’t speak to me on the long ride home. When we pulled up in the driveway to Eddie’s house, she climbed out of the car stony faced. Mason pulled in behind us and joined me in the driveway. It was beginning to get dark, but we could both see the fury outlined on Lurleen’s face. She finally broke her silence when Lucie and Jason ran up to her. They were playing near the big magnolia in the front yard.
“Oh, Lurleen,” Lucie squealed. “You’re back. Are you okay?”
“Of course, ma chérie. Never worry about Lurleen. She can take care of herself.”
Lucie took her hand. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.” She saw the worried look on Lucie’s face. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. I never want to do that.” She headed inside with two children running beside her. Dan opened the door for her. She raised one eyebrow. “Did you have some part in this?”
“In this?” he asked innocently.
“You know perfectly well what I mean.”
He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he put his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. Then he kissed her. A big mushy kiss, as Jason would have described it. She couldn’t seem to help herself. She responded to the kiss, and with Dan at least it seemed that all was forgiven.
Mason and I watched them disappear inside. Then we settled ourselves on two rocking chairs on the porch. Eddie came outside to join us.
“Where’s the truth?” I asked. “Is Marie guilty or is it Kathleen? Mr. Sandler is all about family. Would he protect Kathleen and throw Marie under the bus?”
“My guess is no one throws Marie under the bus,” Mason said. “I need to hear what Marie has to say. I’m going downtown. I’ll call you when I know more.”
“We’re not under protective custody anymore?” Eddie asked. “We’re free to come and go?”
“They picked up Kathleen Sandler at the airport. Charlie Flack is still missing. But we have nothing he wants.”
“Apparently that includes his son,” I said.
“Good. I have some business to take care of,” I said.
“Tonight?” Mason asked. “Can’t it wait until morning?”
I shook my head.
“Tommy?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah, Tommy.” I looked over at Eddie. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back home.”
“Good,” Eddie said. “Take your time. I’ll put the kids to bed.”
Mason nodded his goodbye. He was halfway down the drive, eager to act like a detective again. I’m sure he hoped he could get in on both the interview with Marie Vanderling and the one with Kathleen Sandler. “I’m borrowing your car, Mom.”
Eddie entered the house and reemerged with a set of keys. She threw them to Mason.
“How did Lurleen manage to drive her car out of the driveway without any of us noticing?” Mason asked.
“There wasn’t room for Lurleen’s car here,” I said. “She parked it down the street.”
I watched as Mason maneuvered Eddie’s Ford Focus out of the garage and around my car.
“I’m next,” I said once Mason was gone.
“Fine.” She turned toward me as I gathered up my purse and keys. “Take care and remember he is your brother.”
“You mean the blood is thicker than water idea?”
“Something like that. Let him have his say. He sounds like a hero.”
“My brother always sounds like a hero.”
I followed Eddie into the house, told the kids I had to run an errand, and left before I had to answer any questions.
It felt good to be in my reliable car once more—by myself. The night was dark, no moon yet, and I couldn’t help checking the back seat to make sure Charlie Flack wasn’t waiting for me. Then I headed for Tommy’s condo. I didn’t call first. It was early for Tommy to be out celebrating. With luck I’d catch him at home.
Chapter Thirty-eight
I spent the ten-minute drive to Tommy’s wondering what I would say to him and what he would say to me. The change in scenery was dramatic. I left a quiet neighborhood for the bustle of Buckhead, with its bars, fine restaurants, lights. Oddly, that was what struck me the most. All the lights, the glitz. It suited Tommy to a T. He could hide behind the lights, the glitter, so that no one, least of all his sister, ever knew who he really was.
I should have felt relieved driving to Tommy’s and instead I felt uneasy. The murders felt so neatly solved. It was just the murderers that didn’t quite fit. Was Marie really a killer? Lurleen had such faith in her, and Lurleen was good at sizing people up. Was it Kathleen? Maybe Tommy could enlighten me. Would he be as full of himself as usual? The man who saved Sandler’s single-handedly. With Tommy it would always be single-handedly. So what? This meeting had more to do with me. To clear the air. To understand what happened. To apologize for the mistrust I had of him. I sighed. Was that mistrust really gone?
I drove slowly down the long drive to Tommy’s thirty-floor building that overlooked Phipps Plaza, a shopping mall that was too rich for my blood. I announced myself to the disembodied voice that asked my business. “I’m Mabel Brown, here to see Tommy Brown.”
“Please enter. The valet will park you.” The gate swung slowly open and I drove to the circular drive. A valet opened the car door for me. “Welcome, Dr. Brown.”
I entered the art deco lobby and once again admired the furniture, the fireplace, the twenty-foot ceilings. Oscar was still on duty. “Dr. Brown,” he said. “How nice to see you. I believe Mr. Brown is out.”
“Do you think I could wait in his condo?” I asked.
Oscar hesitated. This was not protocol. “I think that will be all right. After all, you stayed with him for a while. I don’t think he’d object.”
I smiled. I guess Oscar didn’t know Tommy as well as he thought he did. Someone in his apartment and Tommy not object? That would be a first.
I entered the elevator for the south tower and Oscar sent me up to the tenth floor. The door opened to the foyer. I still had the key Tommy had given me, so I let myself in after I knocked first to make sure he wasn’t home.
A light was on in the bedroom. The rest of the apartment was blackout dark, curtains pulled shut across enormous windows. I called out again. “Tommy? Tommy, it’s Mabel.”
No answer.
I walked to the bedroom and looked inside. He wasn’t there. I sat on the bed. Suddenly I was exhausted. Too much had happened. I lay down on a gold damask coverlet and listened for Tommy’s return. Silence. I let my eyes drift around the elegant room. It was scrupulously clean and nicely appointed—meaning Tommy had hired the best interior decorator in town. He’d paid a pretty penny for an antique highboy and an eighteenth-century secretary. Everything was tucked away. One saw only what Tommy wanted you to see. Except . . . what was that near the closet? I sat up to get a better look.
My umbrella. The umbrella my father had made just for me with the linden tree grip. The one I had lent to Ellie the day she died. Tommy hadn’t even tried to hide it. It was leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. I crouched down beside it to get a better look, but I didn’t touch it.
My heart crumpled. Oh, Tommy. What have you done?
It took me a minute before I could call Mason. He didn’t pick up, so I left a message. That I’d found the umbrella but hadn’t found Tommy. That I was waiting for Tommy in his condo.
Mason called me back a few minutes later. The sound of the phone ringing was deafening. “You need to leave the apartment now,” Mason said. “Get out of there and call me when you’re safely outside. I’m sending someone over but leave now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Leave now!”
Mason had never been curt with me before. I hung up the phone, grabbed the umbrella, and headed for the front door. I heard something before I saw the gray outline of a man on the sofa in the living room.
“Why such a rush, my dear? I see you found the umbrella. Come sit with me.”
It wasn’t Tommy’s voice.
Chapter Thirty-nine
The man clicked on the lamp next to him. His gray hair caught the light. He could only be one person. A man I’d never met. A man I knew only by reputation.
“You’re Mr. Sandler,” I said.
He nodded. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Although perhaps not in these circumstances.” He motioned me over to sit across from him. I could see the glint of a small weapon in his right hand.
I walked slowly to the chair he indicated. “Please don’t be fooled by my age. I’m a very good shot. Detective Schmidt, your friend Eleanor, and my grandson found that out the hard way.”
I sank into the chair. “You killed Billy Joe, your own grandson?”
“No choice,” he said. “In the same way I have no choice but to kill your brother and I’m sorry to say you as well. You do provide me with a simple way to make it look as if the two of you struggled over a gun. You learned Tommy killed your dear friend and he had to stop you from taking the umbrella to the police. Nice touch, don’t you think?”
“So you brought the umbrella here? To incriminate Tommy.”
Sandler nodded. “I knew Tommy wouldn’t be home for a while. I sent him out to celebrate. And we both know how much Tommy likes to celebrate. Plenty of time to plant it and wait for Tommy’s return.”
“How did you get in without Oscar seeing you?”
“Tommy kindly gave me access to the parking garage and a key to the back elevator, so I could come over without being noticed. He asked me to keep his gun while you were staying here. He was very accommodating, my dear, but then I was paying him a hefty sum to help me out of a difficult situation.”
“But why
do anything more? The case is sewn up. The police think they have their murderer.”
“The case was sewn up. Until you meddled with it. Marie was on her way to Ecuador, where she expected me to join her. Unfortunately, she was going to have a plane accident on the way. Engine trouble.”
“Marie didn’t kill anyone? She didn’t know what you had done?”
“Of course not. Marie wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless of course the fly was my granddaughter Kathleen. She bought the story that Kathleen was behind all of it, something we couldn’t prove. Marie loved me, but I couldn’t be sure she’d keep her mouth shut during an interrogation. Not with Kathleen in another room testifying.”
“And Tommy?”
“Tommy’s a clever boy. He might put things together. I couldn’t have that. Now he’ll make the perfect murderer. Going after his own sister. It’s his gun I’m holding.”
We heard the elevator at the same time. Sandler motioned me to be still and turned off the light.
“What the hell?” Tommy yelled as he entered. “The door’s unlocked. Where are you, Mabel? Oscar said he let you up.”
“Watch out, Tommy!” I screamed and hooked the handle of the umbrella over Sandler’s outstretched arm.
There was a shot in the dark.
Chapter Forty
“It’s Sandler,” I screamed as I ducked behind the chair. “He has your gun.”
As if to prove my point, two more shots were fired.
Tommy hadn’t said a word. Was he hurt? Killed? I had no way of knowing. I inched my way in the general direction of the foyer. My eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness and I could see furniture and Sandler’s outline. That meant Sandler could see me.
I saw him creeping toward the foyer, more intent on finding Tommy than me. Then I saw another form. This one not moving. Crumpled at the foot of the open door.
Oh, my God. Tommy. That’s when I made a running tackle at the back of Sandler’s body. We fell together into the doorframe leading from the apartment into the foyer. I heard something crack and I saw Sandler’s hand go limp. The hand holding the gun. It dropped with a smack on the tile in the entrance hall.