“I’m sorry Brett. I’d like to believe you, but the evidence points to you.”
She stood. Her beautiful face flushed with anger. Her gaze pulled Corelli to her and held her as if willing her to believe. Heat flashed through Corelli and she found she was holding her breath, until the condescension in Cummings’s voice broke the spell.
“Surely even you must see I’d be smart enough to give myself an alibi.”
“That’s exactly why not having an alibi is the smart thing for you, a good cover.”
“You’re railroading me. I thought you were different. I sensed your gentleness and your heart. I thought I could see into your soul, but your pretty face must have blinded me. Now I see that you’re just a cop. Just another cop. I want my lawyer.”
“Should I escort Ms. Cummings to a holding cell after she calls her attorney?” Parker said.
Corelli shifted her gaze to Parker. “Not yet. Let’s step outside for a minute.” She glanced at Cummings. Her beautiful face was filled with rage and defiance but the real story was in her beautiful eyes, which brimmed with tears and hopelessness.
Watkins had been watching through the two-way mirror and joined them outside the interview room. Corelli stretched her arms over her head and leaned over and touched her fingertips to her toes, attempting to alleviate the tension of the interview and get rid of the heaviness in her chest. She straightened her shoulders and took a couple of deep breaths. “Though Cummings had motive, means and opportunity, it’s all circumstantial without a confession or the weapon, I don’t think we have enough to hold her. Any objections?”
Hearing none, she opened the door and spoke to Cummings. “You don’t need your attorney tonight. We’re releasing you but please remain in the city. I’ll have someone drive you home.”
She stood. “I’m perfectly capable of finding my way home,” she said, brushing past Corelli.
Corelli nodded at Shaunton, who ran after Cummings to escort her out. They watched her hurry away then went back into the interview room. She fiddled with her hair and broke the heavy silence. “The press conference is set,” Corelli said, not attempting to hide her sadness. “There’s nothing to be done.”
Watkins cleared his throat. “A doctor from Bellevue Hospital called earlier. Police picked up Stacy Broslawski Friday afternoon in the Port Authority Bus Terminal, freaking out with a bad drug reaction. The doctor said she kept asking for her Aunt Con, but it wasn’t until yesterday that she was together enough to say Connie Broslawski and not until this afternoon that a nurse recognized the name from the newspapers. I guess we can eliminate her as the killer.”
Shaunton stuck her head in the door. “Detective Corelli, a John Broslawski is asking for you at the front desk.”
Corelli turned to Watkins. “Did you—”
“No. I started the paperwork, that’s all.”
“Parker, did you—”
Parker grimaced. “No.”
All three stared at Corelli. “Excellent timing. Maybe John’s here to confess, or maybe he saw something or somebody.” She turned to Shaunton. “Give us ten minutes and then bring him up. I’m going to wash my face and get a cup of tea.”
She stopped at the door. “I suggest you two move around. You’ll need lots of energy to keep up with John.”
“Jeez Corelli, I’m worried about you. You’re going to end your career in a few days and you’re making jokes?” Parker said. “If that was me about to give up my job, you bet your sweet patootie I’d be bouncing off the walls.”
Parker’s remark was like a knife to her heart. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow. “Maybe I just bounce quieter than you, Parker.”
Chapter Forty
John and Theresa Broslawski responded like children being claimed from lost and found by their mother, smiling and waving as they struggled out of the low-molded chairs to greet Corelli and Parker.
“Hey, you okay?” Theresa said, peering at Corelli. “You look kinda sick.”
“I’m fine, thanks. What brings you here?”
“You didn’t answer your cell so we figured you was working,” John said.
Corelli nodded. She had turned her cell phone off while they were interviewing Cummings. “Anything in particular you wanted?”
“Yeah,” Theresa tucked a hair into her beehive hairdo, “Con’s address. We come to New York to pay our respects to her family, but we can’t find out where they live.”
“It’s kind of late now. I’ll ask their permission tomorrow and call you with the address.”
“Thanks, hon. We’re staying at the Northend Hotel all the way up on West 89th Street.” Theresa looked up and down the hall. “Uh, how do we get outta here?”
“Since you’re here, we have a few more questions for John.” She turned to Parker. “Have Shaunton settle Theresa somewhere with a cup of coffee or tea.”
“That’s okay, hon. I’ll stay with John.”
“Sorry, we need to talk to John alone. We won’t be long.” Parker cupped Theresa’s elbow and steered her toward Shaunton. Theresa stopped and turned. She gnawed the cuticle on her thumb as she watched John slink into the interview room.
John sank into a chair and tugged on a lock of his hair. When Parker came in without Theresa, his eyes widened with fear and skittered around the room like balls in a pinball machine, bouncing from the door, to Corelli, to Parker, and back to the door. He was probably hoping Theresa would barrel in to save him.
Corelli and Parker sat opposite him. Hoping to shake him up a bit more, Corelli waited thirty seconds before speaking. “What a pleasant surprise, John. We were planning on coming to Hope Falls to see you again and here you are in New York. Do you know why we want to talk to you?”
He shook his head.
“I didn’t hear your answer, John.”
“No.”
“You haven’t been truthful, have you, John?”
“Dunno. Tried.” The words came out as a whisper.
“John, if you’re not honest with us this time we’ll have to charge you.” Corelli spoke slowly so that he could absorb what she was saying. Blinking, he looked at her for the first time.
“What do you want to know?”
“Start from the beginning, when you arrived in New York Friday.”
He stared at the space between Corelli and Parker. “Well, uh, I uh, took the bus to the Port, you know. I told ya Port something.”
“Port Authority Bus Terminal.”
“Yeah, it’s hard to remember ’cause it sounds like boats go there. Anyway, I got some breakfast and got directions to Wall Street, where Con’s office is. I started to walk but I got lost. So I asked a lady how to go and she told me about the subway, even took me to where I could get on and showed me how to buy a ticket. It came up right by Con’s building. I told the guard I wanted to see her, but when he called and told them my name, they said to keep me out. So I knew the lady who answered the phone was still there. I got really mad and tried to go past the guards and they made me leave. But I knew when she saw me it would be okay, so I hung around outside waiting for her.”
“How long did you wait?”
“I told you. Until around six, when I saw a limo with a plate that said Winter pull away. I figured it was her so I left.” He chanced a quick glance at Corelli’s face and seemed almost to hold his breath.
Corelli smiled at him, shaking her head. “John, John,” she said, her voice gentle. “Someone saw you there much later. If you’re going to lie, we’ll have to hold you.”
His eyelids fluttered and his head swiveled, looking for an escape. It was a good imitation of the head spinning scene in The Exorcist. “No, no, wait. She didn’t get into the limo and I figured she was still working.” He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. “So I waited some more. Then about seven the same limo or another one with a plate that said Winter, parked near her building. I figured it was waiting for her, so I stood across the street under a little porch thing near that bar and kept my eye
on the door of her building.”
He stopped, waiting, probably hoping that he had said enough to satisfy them.
“Go on.”
“A little while later the guard that threw me out left. At nine, a messenger girl on a bicycle came. She chained her bike outside, pulled on the door and rang the doorbell. A fat guy opened the door for her. Right after that the sho-fer got out of the limo and ran across the street. He almost knocked me over. Didn’t even say he was sorry or nothing. He went into the bar, so I figured she was still working.”
“How can you be so exact about the time?”
“That church up at the top of Wall Street has a huge watch that plays a tune every fifteen minutes.”
“What happened after the chauffeur went in the bar?”
He grabbed his favorite lock of hair and tugged. “Um, the fat guy came outta the building and stumbled across the street into the bar. I thought maybe he had a bad leg, but when he went past me he smelled like he took a bath in cheap booze.”
“Okay, it’s a little after nine. What happened?”
They stared at him and he shifted, uneasy with the attention. “Um, a pretty lady with long blond hair came out and walked up real fast toward the clock. It was quiet a while and the shofer came out of the bar and drove away, very fast. After that I decided to leave and come back on Monday.”
“Then what time was it when you went into the bar?”
“I didn’t—”
Seeing her expression, he stopped. She could almost hear his mind working as his eyes started their dance again. Finally, he seemed to realize he was caught. He sighed. “Nine thirty. The limo driver was in the bar with the fat guy. I wanted to ask him about Connie, but he and that fat guy were both cursin’ her, talking about wringing her neck. The limo guy said she could stuff her job. He was sick and tired of waiting all night for the bitch to stop work, so I figured she was still there. I followed him out. He left without her and I decided to wait.”
“What time did you go up to her office?”
He looked like he might cry, but he sneezed instead and brushed the handkerchief over his nose. “About twelve thirty. Nobody came out or went in for a while so I decided to go up to her office. I walked in and—”
“Wait, the door wasn’t locked?”
“Nah, it was open. People walked out all the time while I was waiting.”
“What about going in? Anybody walk in?”
He put on his thinking face, scrunched his eyes. “When that stinky guy went back, he kept dropping his keys and couldn’t unlock the door. I felt bad fer him and almost went to help, but then he got it open and sorta fell in. After that it didn’t look like nobody waited.”
“So you walked in?”
“Yeah. There’s a sign in the lobby that said which floor she was on. I peeked in the offices looking for where she was. I saw an arm on the chair in one of them big corner offices so I figured she fell asleep. I walked in and the lights…”
He swallowed. “It was horrible. I didn’t want to scare her so I started talking to her right away, but then I smelled the, er, shit, and I saw the blood. Blood was all over everything. Her head…her head was, it was like bashed in, and she was covered with blood and…stuff. It was all over her desk and the floor, even the ceiling. The place stunk something bad. I could tell she was dead. I ran out and down the elevator, almost broke my neck on that big ladder standin’ right in the middle of the lobby. I kept runnin’ until I hadda stop. I was crying and didn’t know what to do so I called Theresa. She said I should come home or somebody might think I did it. I walked all night trying to get it out of my mind and got on the first bus home.” He scratched his head and seemed to relax now that it was all out on the table. “Howdidja know I was in her office? I didn’t touch nothin’.”
“Somebody saw you leave. You might be able to help us out, John.”
“Does this mean I’m not going to jail?”
“Maybe. Let’s see how good your memory is. Describe everybody that came out or went into the building between about seven o’clock when the limo driver came back and when you went up and found her dead?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Try. You already mentioned the messenger girl on the bicycle, the pretty blond lady and the fat, smelly guy. You kept your eyes on the door, right? Think. Anybody else go in or come out?”
“Yeah, I was afraid I would miss Connie so I stared at that door the whole time. Let me see.” His eyes narrowed, his lips tightened, and his thumb began to rub his nose.
“A short lady. She came out of the subway, I think it was after the fat guy went to the bar. She stood by the door for about five minutes, and then went in.” He stretched and yawned. “A couple minutes later that messenger girl came out, unchained her bicycle and rode away.”
He tapped his fingers on his nose, ticking them off as he remembered, but he hesitated when he passed his thumb the second time. “Right. I went in the bar at nine thirty but I left after five minutes. A few minutes later, the shofer staggered out and drove away before I could catch him. The drunk guy left right after him. It was quiet until this dapper guy pulled up in a fancy silver car when the ten o’clock chimes were ringing. He pounded on the door of the building, but after a few minutes I think he figured out the door wasn’t locked, so he opened it and went in. He didn’t stay long, maybe twenty minutes. Then he came out and pulled away real fast, squealing tires and all. I never knew people worked so late on Wall Street. No wonder they make so much money.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“Yup. Five or ten minutes after the guy in the silver car left, another messenger, a boy, went inside but he took his bicycle with him. He stayed about twenty minutes too and as he was riding away, a fat lady got out of a taxi and went into the building. Um, a couple minutes later, the chimes were ringing eleven o’clock and a little guy with a mustache came out and ran down into the subway, and right after that the short lady came out and went into the subway. Um, I think that’s about when the limo driver came back and went into the bar again.”
John chewed his thumbnail and mumbled to himself, going over what he had seen. “Oh, yeah. A little after the eleven fifteen chimes, this here big blond guy all in black with a leather jacket went in. Maybe ten minutes later the fat lady came out. A taxi came by but it didn’t stop when she waved. I guess she didn’t want to wait, so she walked over toward the river, you know, by all the restaurants. That blond guy wasn’t there too long. When he came out I thought he was gonna have a cigarette because he leaned against the building where it was so dark. I could hardly see him, but I never saw no light. After about five minutes, he walked real fast. I could hear his heels clicking on the sidewalk, sounded like ladies’ shoes, and got in his car and left.”
“Did you see the car and the plate?”
“Mercedes. Black. But I couldn’t see no numbers. Can I have some water? Am I doin’ okay?”
“Parker, please get John some water. You’re doing great. Go on.”
“The last one, I think, was a pregnant lady who came out after twelve o’clock. She seemed in a big hurry. She went down the subway real fast.” He took the cup from Parker and quickly emptied it.
“That it?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned back, relaxed and self-satisfied.
“Now think a little harder, John. Was anyone carrying anything?”
The thumb rose to the nose again. “Don’t remember.”
“What about the guy in the fancy car or the big blond guy? Did they have anything?”
He closed his eyes. “No, I don’t think so.” Then he nodded. “Yes. The blond guy had a black gym bag. It musta been heavy cause it kept slippin’ off his shoulder.”
“Are you sure no one else was carrying anything?”
He stared into space. “Um, the ladies had pocketbooks and I think the messengers had backpacks, but I’m not really sure.”
“What about the pretty blond lady?”
&nb
sp; “She had a pocketbook.” He scratched his head. “No, wait, it was one of those cases you carry papers in.”
“Did you see this guy?” She showed him the picture of Gus that had appeared in the newspaper as part of the awards coverage. He studied it. “Yeah, he got in the limo with the fat lady at five thirty.”
“Did you see him again later?”
“I think he was the guy with the fancy car. I mostly saw him from the side when he went in and he went real fast when he left but I’m pretty sure. Can I leave now?”
“One more thing. Stacy’s in Bellevue Hospital. She had a bad drug reaction Friday.”
He stood. “Is she okay? Can we go see her?”
“Don’t worry. She’s fine. You’ll be able to see her tomorrow. Wait outside with Theresa. Somebody will get you the hospital visiting hours and the address and then drive you to the hotel. I’ll call tomorrow to let you know about visiting Connie’s family. And John, call me if you remember anything else. Anytime.”
She opened the door. “Watkins, please see that John and Theresa get the information they need and have them driven to the hotel.”
John hurried out of the room and made a beeline for Theresa. Watkins trailed after him.
Corelli was exhausted. She was running out of time. Parker had been moody all afternoon and was probably exhausted too. Corelli stretched. “So, I’m thinking either Winter was alive when Cummings left or all those other people saw her dead and no one called 911. I know you have a soft spot for Cummings but give us an honest opinion. What do you think, Parker?”
Parker stared at her. “I think you’re attracted to Cummings and you’re bending over backward to make sure you’re being objective.”
Corelli flinched.
Watkins gasped.
Parker stuck her chin out. “But, I agree Cummings didn’t kill her. Any one of the others could have done it. For what it’s worth, that’s what I think,” Parker said, her voice trailing away, her gaze down.
Corelli felt a spark of anger. “Homicide 201, Parker. A good homicide detective is always objective.” She kept her eyes on Parker. “As I said, it appears Winter was alive when Cummings left and I agree that any of the multitude who visited after could have killed her.”
A Matter of Blood Page 25