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

by Dana E. Donovan

  “If it comes to that, which it won’t, I’ll answer the question.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder with an arrogant toss. “As it stands now, what Dan and I discussed is none of your business.”

  “Did you go to his house last night?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ask Allen Brinkman to go there?”

  “No. Why would I do that?”

  “Because you wanted him to kill Cohen.”

  “I most certainly did not.” Swan turned sharply to face me and slapped her hand down hard on the table. “Detective Marcella, I insist you put a leash on this man or I will leave now.”

  “You can’t leave,” I said.

  “Why not? You told me I’m not under arrest.”

  “You’re not, but if you try to leave now, we will arrest you.”

  “Then what’s the difference?”

  “Semantics, I suppose.”

  “I don’t care. I will not tolerate this man’s badgering.”

  “You’re right.” I held my hands up in mock surrender, hoping to placate her anger. In truth, however, I was happy to see Carlos get a rise out of her. An agitated witness is always more likely to screw up and say something she didn’t mean to say. I looked at Carlos and winked, hoping Swan didn’t see it.

  “Detective Rodriquez, will you please refrain from speculation and restrict your dialogue with Ms. Swan to asking only direct questions?”

  Carlos nodded his approval and picked up where he left off. “Ms. Swan, did you tell Brinkman that Dan Cohen called you last night?”

  Swan came back just as cold. “Again, Detective, that’s none of your business.”

  “You do know we’re looking into your phone records, don’t you?”

  “I don’t care. Unless you’re the N.S.A., knowing who I called won’t tell you what I said.”

  Carlos remained unfazed. “What’s your relationship with Allen Brinkman?”

  “Professional.”

  “Did he help you steal the diamonds?”

  “I told you. I didn’t steal anything.”

  “Then where did Brinkman get that ring on his finger?”

  “What ring?”

  “You know what ring, that fancy blue you gave him from the heist. Was it a gift to shut him up?”

  She laughed in that uniquely patronizing way of hers. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  I could sense then she was about to make us both look like idiots. “Detective,” she said, “first of all, if I stole the diamonds, do you really think I could get one into a setting and onto Brinkman’s finger in less than twenty-four hours?”

  Carlos came back quickly. “How do you know we saw him within twenty-four hours?”

  She came back quicker. “If you didn’t, then you’re a bigger fool that I took you for.”

  “Ouch!” I said.

  Carlos attempted redemption. “Well, it just so happens we did.” I could almost hear the, so there, in his voice.

  Swan loaded the second of her double-barreled arguments and fired. “Additionally, Detective, how stupid would it be for a man as brilliant as Allen Brinkman to go running around, parading a stolen fancy blue under the noses of a couple of keystone cops investigating the supposed theft of that very diamond?”

  “Keystone cops?” I said. “That’s a bit harsh, Ms. Swan.”

  “It’s a glass house we live in now, isn’t it, Detective?”

  Carlos said, “There’s a two and a half carat fancy blue matching the description of the one on Brinkman’s finger. If his isn’t one of the stolen diamonds, then where did he get it?”

  Swan looked at me and gestured an unbelieving nod toward Carlos. “Is he for real?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a valid question.”

  She shook her head lightly, apparently dismissing us both as incompetent. “For your sorely needed information, Detective, that ring on Brinkman’s finger was a gift from his bosses, a bonus.”

  “Some bonus.”

  “Yeah, well it’s a tradition at Hartman, Pierce and Petruzelli to give one to a new junior partner. All the partners have one. You’d have known that if you did your job correctly.”

  Carlos and I exchanged embarrassed glances. She had a point. Considering the circumstances, we’d have been completely justified in pressing Brinkman for precise answers when discussing his ring. He mentioned to us that it was a gift. It never occurred to me that his bosses could have given it to him.

  Carlos kept a cool face in light of the embarrassment, and never let on how hard her remark had hit home. He cleared his throat and came back on a new topic.

  “Ms. Swan, how did you know that Dan Cohen died last night?”

  “I heard.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s a shame. He seemed like a nice man.”

  “Do you think his death had anything to do with the theft of the diamonds?”

  She lifted her shoulders and dropped them. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

  “You mean you don’t care.”

  Swan looked at me and shook her head. “That wasn’t a question. As far as I’m concerned, he’s done. Your partner can kiss my ass now.”

  “Don’t tempt him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms to my chest. “You know, Ms. Swan, I can’t figure you out. You’re either the smartest criminal we ever interviewed, or the dumbest.”

  “Oh, but either way, I’m a criminal. Is that it, Detective?”

  I let it go at that. Looking at Carlos, I gave a little nod toward the door. “Ms. Swan, would you excuse us please?”

  Out in the hall, I said to him, “I don’t like it. Something’s rotten here.”

  He agreed. “It’s as if she isn’t worried about anything.”

  “She’s not. She knows as well as we do that the gas cylinders, the heaters, the gloves and even the damn dent in her bumper mean nothing unless we can tie her to the diamonds.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. Hell, we caught her red-handed with them.”

  “But that doesn’t mean she stole them. I have this awful feeling in my gut that she’s playing us.”

  “You think she wants to be here?”

  “It seems that way. I mean it’s too easy. Think about it. If you stole twenty million dollars worth of diamonds, would you stick around town for three days?”

  “No.”

  “It’s as though she wants us to think she pulled off the heist, yet she’s not worried we’ll be able to prove it. Why else would she get rid of the store’s DVD recorder and come up with an alibi for the bumper, yet keep everything else that could link her to the theft?”

  “I’ll tell you, because only the DVD recorder and the dent on that bumper can positively link her to the scene of the crime. Everything else is circumstantial.”

  “You’re right. Swan is not a stupid woman. She may be crazy, but she’s not stupid.”

  Carlos nodded. “Crazy like a fox, you mean.”

  We left Swan in the interrogation room for another twenty minutes, checking only to see if we could get her something to drink, or if she’d changed her mind about wanting counsel present during further questioning. She declined both offers.

  Around five o’clock, Dominic brought Lloyd Bishop Stephens upstairs and delivered him to the media room. Because of the dollar value in question, I had Carlos go down to evidence, retrieve the diamonds and return with two uniformed escorts, who then maintained a presence outside the door while the evaluation took place.

  “Mister Stephens,” I said, shaking his hand. “It’s good to see you again. I can’t tell you how grateful we are that you came all the way down here under such short notice to help us out.”

  “Please, Detective, it’s my pleasure. I’m always happy to help the community whenever possible. Besides, Detective Spinelli tells me the gems you’d like me to look at are the ones stolen from Marx Jewelers.”

  “That’s right, s
ir.”

  “You know those folks have sent a lot of business my way over the years, and Dan, God rest his soul, you know he was a master jeweler himself.”

  “Yes, I know that.”

  “Well, he and I used to attend the annual Jewelers’ Convention in Atlanta together. Oh, what times we had.”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry for your loss. Now, I don’t mean to hurry you, but we have a suspect detained in our interrogation room. I wonder if we might get started.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “So you understand. We’re not looking for you to appraise these gems, merely to confirm that they are genuine and that they are, or at least based on your professional opinion could be, the diamonds you appraised for Marx Jewelers during the past eight month period.”

  “Yes. I understand.”

  “Thank you.”

  I turned to Carlos. He handed me the black velvet bag, which I in turn, handed to Mister Stephens. Immediately, I sensed from the look on Stephens’ face that something wasn’t right.

  “Mister Stephens? Is everything okay?”

  He weighed the bag in his hand, holding it by the drawstrings and bobbing it up and down. “How many gems did you say were in here, Detective?”

  “Forty-two, sir. Why, does it feel light?” I looked at Carlos, who looked surprised.

  “Tony,” said Carlos. “I came straight up here from evidence, I swear. If any are missing—”

  “It’s not that,” Stephens said. “If anything, there are more.”

  “More?”

  He shook his head to dismiss his initial instincts. “It feels heavy, is all.” He laughed, as if embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’ve made an assumption. It’s possible these aren’t the stones I expected.”

  “These should be the forty-two gems you appraised for Marx Jewelers, sir, the diamonds they insured based on those appraisals.”

  I watched Lloyd Stephens’ face grow suddenly somber and resolute, as if now he had something to prove. He pulled a chair out from the table, sat down, opened the drawstrings on the bag and spilled the contents onto the table. The jewels tumbled out in a kaleidoscope of colors.

  “Wow!” was the single word out of Carlos and Dominic’s mouths.

  I looked at Lloyd Stephens. He seemed much less impressed.

  “Mister Stephens? Is something wrong now?”

  He nodded. “They’re too heavy. I thought so.”

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “These.” He waved his hand over the lot of them. “They’re too heavy for the size and count. They’re not diamonds.”

  He picked up one of the larger stones, buffed it against his sleeve and tried to fog it with his breath the way one fogs a mirror. Apparently, not happy with the results, he produced a jewelers’ eyepiece from his pocket and examined the supposed stone under glass.

  “Junk,” I heard him say. He tossed it on the table and picked up another. He subjected it to the same simple tests as the first with similar disappointing results.

  “What does this mean,” I asked.

  He looked up at me and shook his head. “I’ll look at them all because I understand you need to know, but these, I can almost assure you now, are all diamond simulants.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, in the case of the first two, the type of simulant we’re looking at is known as cubic zirconia.”

  “Fakes?” asked Dominic. “How can that be? They all look exactly like the photos.”

  “Dominic, please.” I eased him back a bit. Why don’t you do me a favor and get Mister Stephens here a cup of coffee?”

  “I’m all right,” said Stephens.

  “Fine, then get me one, please.”

  As he slipped out the door, I heard Carlos tell him in a whispered shout, “Me, too. Light with sugar.”

  Chapter 25

  Lloyd Stephens went on to inspect the other forty supposed diamonds we confiscated from the luggage in Lesley Swan’s hotel room. In addition to the quick buff and fog test, he scrutinized each stone through his jewelers’ eyepiece and under a UV light, otherwise known as a black light. Nearly all were cubic zirconia, with a few smaller ones declared synthetic moissanite, according to Stephens, a slightly better type of diamond simulant.

  The entire process took him less than twenty minutes. He summarized his evaluation by telling us that although the stones were fakes, they were quality fakes designed for high-priced jewelry.

  “Though not a fortune,” he noted, “you’re probably looking at over twenty thousand dollars worth of retail ready stones. They’re some of the best I’ve seen.”

  “I see. Well, thanks again, Mister Stephens. We certainly appreciate your time. You’ve been a big help.”

  He pulled his card from his billfold and handed it to me. “As I’ve said, Detective, I take pleasure helping the department and the community in any way I can. Feel free to call me whenever.”

  “I certainly will.”

  After seeing Mister Stephens off, Carlos, Dominic and I returned to the interrogation room to deal with Lesley Swan. She seemed smug upon our arrival. Apparently, she knew what we’d been doing the last hour, and the look on our faces proved worth the wait for her.

  “Well, Detectives, are you convinced I did not steal the diamonds now?”

  I tossed the black velvet pouch down on the table. “Where did you get those fakes?”

  “They’re mine; or rather they belong to the Royal Hall Insurance Company. They’re part of a collection. We generally use them as stand-ins for real gems during open house events, TV commercials and that sort of thing.”

  “Why do you have them?”

  “I often carry them. I use them for demonstrations, teaching purposes and whatnot.”

  “Bait and switch?” asked Carlos.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why didn’t you just tell us what they were when we first asked you about them?”

  “Because you accused me of stealing twenty million dollars worth of diamonds, Detective. How do you think that makes a girl feel?”

  “Like the thief she is.”

  “Carlos.” I touched his forearm to turn him off. “Ms. Swan, I don’t know what all this is about, yet, but you’re obviously playing us.”

  “What do you mean? I’m just a simple insurance rep trying to do my job.”

  “By carrying incriminating evidence around in your car, your hotel room? It’s as though you’re trying to deflect attention away from someone else. Who could that be, Allen Brinkman?”

  Swan shook her head and shrugged lightly. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “All right, listen. You’re free to go for now.”

  “Tony!” This from Carlos, who appeared positively incredulous.

  “Carlos, we can’t hold her. These aren’t the stolen diamonds.”

  “No, but they have something to do with the stolen diamonds. They look just like them.”

  I shook my head. “Ms. Swan, you can’t go back to your hotel room. It’s sealed off for the next twenty-four hours in case we wish to go back and search it a bit more thoroughly.”

  “You still think you’ll find the diamonds there, Detective?”

  “One never knows.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not going back to the hotel. I’m returning to Warwick this evening to file my final report with the company.”

  “Ms. Swan, I would rather you did not leave town just yet.”

  “Are you going to stop me?”

  She knew I couldn’t. “No.”

  “Then I wish you luck.”

  The three of us just sat there looking at her, feeling stupid and impotent. She stood and started for the door, stopping, almost as a second thought, and returning for the black pouch. “You don’t mind if I take this, do you. The company has a few bucks invested in them.”

  “No, take it,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “You can pick your car up from the impound lot at the west end.”

  “No, Det
ective. You can call downstairs and have someone pull it around front for me. And if you detain me again without cause, I’ll have my attorney slap a harassment lawsuit on your ass so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

  She left, making a point of shutting the door behind her so that we might know the strain of isolation, coupled with a feeling of being watched. Now in addition to stupid and impotent, I could add emasculated to the list.

  “Damn her,” said Carlos, following a full thirty seconds of dead silence. “And to think I wanted to do that woman.”

  “What? You mean you don’t anymore?”

  He thought about it. “Nah, I’d still do her. I just wouldn’t enjoy it as much.”

  “You’re a dog, Rodriquez.”

  Dominic slammed his fist down on the table. “What just happened here? Will somebody tell me how a clean bust just evaporated like fog?”

  “I’ll tell you,” I said. “We had nothing on her.”

  “What do you mean? We had the propane cylinders, the heaters, the button.”

  “Circumstantial.”

  “What about the Melrose Light cigarette butt? I know we can get her DNA off it.”

  “Yes, and she’ll tell us she dropped it there sometime before the burglary, probably while conducting her pre-policy inspection of the premises.”

  “You know that’s a lie.”

  “Dominic, it’s all circumstantial. Without the real diamonds, we have nothing.”

  “You know,” said Carlos. “What if there aren’t any real diamonds?”

  Both Dominic and I looked at him as though he were hallucinating. “Come again?”

  “Dominic, you said Cohen told you that sometimes their clients trade in real gems for fakes.”

  “That’s right.”

  “He told you that’s how they accumulated such a large inventory of expensive diamonds.”

  “Right, he said that way their clients don’t have to worry about insuring the jewelry, or about them getting lost or stolen.”

  “Carlos,” I said, “Where are you going with this?”

  “I’ll tell you, Tony. This thought about insurance, why do you suppose the store’s owners decided to insure their inventory of diamonds now?”

  “I don’t know, because they had twenty million dollars worth, maybe.”