BURY THE WITCH: Book 10 (Detective Marcella Witch's Series)

by Dana E. Donovan

  “It’s not your fault. Had Cohen told you what was happening, you could have run hot to cut through the traffic. You could have called for a black and white to meet you there, or you could have told him to go to a neighbor’s house and wait for you there.”

  “Yeah, Tony,” said Carlos. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Use that energy to focus on nailing Swan…and I mean that in a professional sense. You know that, right?”

  “Of course he knows that.” Dominic picked up the desk phone. “You want me to have an arrest warrant issued for her?”

  “Yeah, let’s bring her in. I want a warrant to search her hotel room as well. Oh, and of course,” I tapped my finger on the photo of her BMW. “Impound her car. If she hasn’t fixed that bumper yet, maybe she’s stupid enough to have left the propane tanks and burners in the back, as well.”

  “What about Brinkman?”

  I shook my head. “Without Lesley’s cooperation, we have nothing on him at the moment. We’ll hold off doing anything for now. Besides, he has one of the best law firms in the country standing behind him. I’m sure he’s not going anywhere.”

  Chapter 24

  While Dominic worked on securing search and arrest warrants for Lesley Swan, Carlos and I took a ride out to see Rachel Marx. Even though circumstantial evidence against Swan seemed suddenly overwhelming, I still had plenty of questions that needed answers.

  Marx came to the door dressed in khaki shorts, a Polo pullover and tan sneakers. She had short hair, which did not require tying back to keep it off her neck or out of her eyes, but for reasons of sheer practicality, kept it all neatly tucked under a baseball cap sporting a Boston Red Sox logo on the front.

  “Detective Marcella? Detective Rodriquez?”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Marx.” I palmed my heart and bowed slightly. “Forgive us for not calling first. May we come in?”

  “Of course.” She opened the door completely and stepped aside. “I must admit, this is a surprise.”

  I looked around the room, noticed a number of cardboard boxes in various stages of packing and said to her, “Going somewhere?”

  She brushed past me, stirring up a faint cloud of that exquisite perfume of hers in her wake. “Just packing away some old things.”

  “That’s good, because I’d hate to see you leave town just as we’re about to make an arrest in the case.”

  “Oh? You have a suspect?”

  “We do.”

  She turned her back and began wrapping small figurines from a curio cabinet in tissue paper and placing them in a box. “That’s wonderful, because I was beginning to think I was your only suspect.”

  I let that one go. “I suppose you heard about Daniel Cohen.”

  She stopped in mid-wrap of one of her treasures, but did not turn around. “Yes, I heard this morning. Terrible accident, wasn’t it?”

  “Oh yes, terrible. Can I ask you when you last talked to him?”

  She finished wrapping the figurine and set it in the box with the others. “I should think you know that, Detective.”

  “Oh?”

  She turned around to face me. “Come now. Must we play these games? I spoke to Daniel around four-thirty last night.”

  “Mind telling me what you two talked about?”

  “Not at all. He told me he thought he knew who stole the diamonds.”

  “Did he say who?”

  “He did not. He just wanted me to know that he didn’t think it was Eric or me. He said Oscar thought otherwise.”

  “Oscar suspected you and Eric?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you and Eric know the combination?”

  “Together we do, and of course, I have the key.”

  “But if Dan Cohen didn’t think you and Eric did it, who did he suspect?”

  “He didn’t say. He just wanted me to know that he wasn’t in Oscar’s camp.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him he should call you.”

  “Are you sure that’s how it happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you sure he didn’t call to say that he suspected you and Eric? That he and Oscar figured the two of you out? Isn’t it possible that you told Eric about the call, and that Eric went to Daniel Cohen’s house last night and pushed him down the stairs?”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “Then how do you explain an eyewitness account saying he saw Eric’s SUV parked out front of Daniel’s house last night? Or that he saw Eric let himself in through the front door, only to come running out minutes later and speed off down the street with his lights out?”

  “That’s not how it happened,” said Marx, flipping the baseball cap off her head and throwing it down into one of the boxes. All right, Dan did call and tell me that he thought Eric and I robbed the safe, and Eric did ride out to his house, but only to talk to him. He wanted to tell Dan that we didn’t do it, that Allen Brinkman did it.”

  “Brinkman?”

  “Of course, Allen was the only other person with the key and combination to the safe. If Eric and I didn’t do it, and we knew we didn’t, then who else could have? That’s who you’re arresting, isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not arresting Eric, because he didn’t do anything. He got out to Dan’s house, like I said, but Dan was already dead. He fell down the stairs. Nobody pushed him.”

  I looked at Carlos, whom I could tell was surprised, shocked and more than just a bit confused. I said to him, “What do you think?”

  He cracked a stupid grin. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Mrs. Marx, we’re almost done with our investigating.” I pointed to the boxes throughout the room. “Stop packing. I don’t want you leaving town until we say you can. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, but said nothing.

  “Thanks for your time. We’ll see ourselves out.”

  We got out to the car and Carlos said to me, “What the hell just happen in there?”

  I smiled at him. “You like that, eh?”

  “Like it? I don’t even know what it was. You didn’t tell me anything about witnesses seeing Eric Feldon out at Dan Cohen’s house.”

  “That’s because there wasn’t any witness.”

  “But you told her—”

  “No, I asked her what she would say if I told her a witness saw Eric at Dan’s house. I didn’t say there was a witness.”

  “Then what made you say that? How did you know Eric was there?”

  “I didn’t, but you told me Eric and Rachel were at the jewelry store this morning, clearing out the store’s inventory. We get out to her house and find her packing up boxes as though she’s getting ready to bug out. I just felt I had to play a wild card to see what happened.”

  “A card you didn’t have,” Carlos remarked.

  “What,” I started the car and pulled out onto the street, “you never heard of bluffing?”

  We arrived back at the Justice Center at almost the same time Dominic was returning with his prisoner, Lesley Swan. He had staked out her hotel room and arrested her moments after word came down that Judge Thomason had signed the arrest and search warrants.

  Among the store of evidence found with Swan and in her vehicle, were two propane cylinder tanks, twin dual gas burner kits, a box of disposable latex gloves and a small black velvet bag containing what appeared to be forty-two precious ideal cut diamonds of various color and carat weight.

  Dominic was positively high on adrenalin, dancing in sidesteps between Carlos and me all the way to the elevator. Under loss of breath, he reiterated what he found in Swan’s SUV and in a luggage bag in her hotel room. Said he couldn’t believe it. Frankly, neither could I.

  “Tony, I’m telling you,” he said, after the small confines of the elevator prevented him from jumping around long enough for him to talk. “It was text book. You should have seen me. I swiped the keycard through the lock on her
door and busted in, weapon drawn. I had two uniforms backing me up, but you know what, Tony? I didn’t need them. I caught Swan completely off guard. She was just standing there, completely dressed, shoes, coat, hat, everything.”

  “You don’t say?” I said, smiling over his exuberance.

  “I think she was just about to check out. You know, bug out of town. Whoa-ho boy, what timing. Incredible.”

  I looked at Carlos. “Incredible is the word I was thinking, too.”

  Carlos nodded. “As in not credible?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tony, you won’t believe this.” Dominic pinched my sleeve and shook it. “She must be the stupidest woman in the world. She had the bag of diamonds just sitting in her luggage, right on top. Imagine, twenty million dollars worth of diamonds not even hidden away somewhere.”

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened. We stepped out and headed down the hall toward the interrogation room.

  “You got her in number one?” I asked.

  Dominic pointed. “Yeah, one. They brought her up ahead of me.” He let out a nervous laugh, skipped a step to catch up with Carlos and me and then added, “I had to sign a bunch of papers downstairs. You know, paperwork, right?”

  “Did you read her rights?”

  “Her rights? Yes, of course. I read`em. Read`em twice. You can’t be too careful. Hey did I tell you what we found in her car?”

  “Yes, Dominic, you told us.”

  “Found the propane tanks and the gas burners.”

  “We know you did. Good job.”

  “You’d have thought she’d have gotten rid of them, wouldn’t you?”

  “Dominic!” We stopped at the closed door in front interrogation room one. He was still panting, his eyes wide and dilated. I cupped his shoulder to steady him. “I want you to take a deep breath and calm down. You hear me?”

  “Right. Calm down.” He drew his focus to a spot on the carpet and blew a few strong steady breaths through puckered cheeks.

  “There you go. Now I want you to do me a favor. See if you can get a hold of that gem specialist, Stephen whatshisname.”

  “Lloyd Bishop Stephens.”

  “That’s right, Lloyd Bishop Stephens. See if he’s willing to come down here for a few minutes to help us out. Can you do that?”

  “Sure. I can do that.”

  “Tell him we’ll pay him for his time, but he should bring with him whatever he’ll need to verify some gems for us. You got that?”

  “Got it, Tony. No problem.”

  “Good.” I gave him a light slap on the cheek and sent him on his way. As he disappeared down the hall, I said to Carlos, “What are you feeding that boy?”

  He laughed. “It’s your fault.”

  “Mine?”

  “Yeah, he wouldn’t get so excited if you took him out in the field a little more often.”

  “Hmm,” is all I said, imagining that Dominic would have plenty of opportunities to get out in the field soon enough. I set my hand upon the doorknob. “Ready?”

  Carlos waved us in.

  “Ms. Swan,” I said, entering the room on an upbeat note. “Nice to see you again. You remember Detective Rodriquez?”

  We came around the long conference table set in the center of the room and took the seats opposite her, our backs toward the two-way mirror and video camera running behind it.

  “Of course,” she said, smiling up at Carlos, “sorry our date didn’t work out.”

  I heard Carlos mumble, “Me, too.”

  Swan crossed her arms and eased back in her chair. “Now, if you don’t mind telling me, Detectives, why have you’ve arrested me?”

  “Arrested? Oh, we haven’t arrested you yet.”

  “No? But Detective Spitelli read me my rights.”

  “That’s Spinelli, and yes, he read you your rights because you should know them before answering any of our questions.”

  “I see. So, I can go?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m under arrest.”

  “You are being detained.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because,” said Carlos, “you robbed Marx Jewelers of twenty million dollars in diamonds.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “No? Then tell me what was in that bag we confiscated from your luggage up in your hotel room?”

  “Carlos.” I gave him a look so that he might crank it down a notch. I said to Swan, “Regarding your rights as Detective Spinelli read them to you, Ms. Swan, do you understand those rights?”

  “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot.”

  “No, ma'am. You certainly are not, which is why we haven’t arrested you yet.”

  “I see.” She uncrossed her arms and laced her fingers upon her lap, a gesture I took to mean she now felt more comfortable with her situation.

  “Ms. Swan.” I scooted my chair up closer to the table. “I have to ask you, if not from Marx Jewelers, then where did you get the diamonds we found in your luggage?”

  “Diamonds?” She painted a mock look of confusion on her face. “I don’t know anything about any diamonds.”

  “Sure you do, in that black velvet pouch of yours, the one with little white drawstrings?”

  She unclasped her hands and fingered her lower lip as if seriously contemplating the question. “Hmm, you know it sounds like my pouch, Detective, but without seeing it, I can’t be certain.”

  “Oh, you’ll see it soon enough.”

  She seemed neither pleased nor displeased with that. I stole a glance up in the corner of the room to confirm the red light was still on. It was. The video equipment in the next room was operating properly.

  “We found your button,” I said.

  “Button?” Again with that manufactured look of ignorance. “What button might that be?”

  “The one from the blouse you wore the night you broke into the jewelry story. It must have broken off in the alley.”

  “No. I’m sure you’re mistaken. I’m not missing any buttons. You can check my luggage.”

  I looked at Carlos. He shook his head faintly. Swan drew a tight smile. She knew better than to hold on to any of the clothes from the night of the burglary. What puzzled me was why she wore that same blouse to the jewelry store the next morning. She seemed too smart for such a careless oversight.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said, waving my hand as if to dismiss the lack of evidence as insignificant. “We have a photo of you wearing the blouse. That’s good enough.”

  “A photo?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed half-heartedly. “Oh, that is rich. I’m sure the D.A. will hang his high hopes on that one.”

  “Maybe not, but he will hang high hopes on the two propane cylinders and the gas burner kits we found in the back of your SUV. Would you like to tell us about those?”

  “What’s to tell?”

  “Why do you have them?”

  “I like to go camping. Is that a crime?”

  “No, it’s not a crime, but using propane heaters to defeat a motion sensor in the act of a felony is a crime.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  I think it was at about that point in the interview when I realized how flimsy our case against Ms. Lesley Swan really was. If not, then it was certainly the point where she demonstrated how badly we needed to tie the diamonds we found in her luggage directly to her.

  Swan said, “Let me ask you, Detective. Are you suggesting that I own the only propane tanks and heater kits on the entire eastern seaboard?”

  “Of course, not.”

  “In all of New England?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Then what? What would possibly link my propane heaters to your crime scene?”

  “I don’t have to link them directly, Ms. Swan. I merely need to include them in a chain of circumstantial evidence strong enough to convince a jury beyond a reasonable doubt that you burglarized the safe in that jewelry store.”

  �
�A chain?” she scoffed. “Is that what you think you have?” Assuming her question was rhetorical, I let it go. She came back, “You know, Detective, it seems to me that so far, this chain of yours is not very strong, and you know what they say about the strength of a chain.”

  I hated to bite, but I did. “That it’s only as strong as its weakest link?”

  She smiled. “You are the smart one in the bunch, aren’t you?”

  Carlos said, “What about the dent in your bumper?”

  “Dent?”

  “You know what I’m talking about, that dent in your bumper from when you rammed that board into the back door of the jewelry store.”

  “Oh, I see, more circumstantial evidence.”

  “If the evidence fits,” I said.

  She pointed out into the hall. “In that case, you might want to go make a phone call and check with the owner of the truck I bumped into at the grocery store last week.”

  “What truck?”

  “In the parking lot. It was an accident, of course. I didn’t see anyone around, so I left a note on the windshield and a check for two hundred dollars.”

  “Let me guess. The truck was old and beat up.”

  “It was. I figured a couple of hundred would cover the damage. I have the truck’s license plate number if you’d like to look it up and confirm my story.”

  “You mean confirm that he cashed your check.”

  She smiled smugly. “Just covering my bases.”

  “See that’s the thing I don’t understand. You’re covering your bases, but not all of them. Why?”

  “Oh, come now, Detective. I only need to cover the bases that have runners on them. You’re the one chasing foul balls.”

  I looked at Carlos. I could tell he was getting pissed with Swan, and frankly, so was I. I gave him the chin-up nod to see if he wanted to take over. He took the torch and ran with it.

  “All right, enough with the baseball metaphors,” he said. “Tell us about Daniel Cohen.”

  She offered a careless shrug. “What about him?”

  “We know he called you last night.”

  “So?”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It’ll be asked in court.”