by Joseph Badal
This surprised Barbara. Her jaw dropped.
“We want you to know we’re really sorry we didn’t stick up for you and Susan when Gabelli was dumping on you,” McMurtree said.
Now she was amazed. She didn’t have a ready response because she’d expected an attack and had prepared herself for a counter-attack. This was too much, too fast. When she didn’t say anything for a couple seconds, the two men turned and went to their own desks.
“Thank you,” Barbara finally said.
McMurtree and Anderson looked at her and both men nodded.
Then Anderson said, “The lieutenant told us what happened with the dog up in Sandia Heights. That asshole Gabelli deserved it.”
CHAPTER 57
Barbara vacillated between thinking that the Comstock and Stein murders weren’t connected and that there was a single killer who murdered both victims. Lieutenant Salas had defined her mission: Treat them as one connected case. Two victims, one killer. She didn’t entirely buy Salas’s theory, even though she’d considered the possibility of one killer herself. But she knew he wanted to simplify the process. Sure sounds easy, she thought. Except for identifying the killer of both victims.
She rehashed in her mind—and on a notepad—all she and Susan had discovered since they’d walked into the Comstock residence and seen Victoria Comstock’s mutilated corpse. They had subsequently learned that Nathan Stein was a sexual predator and had both a professional and sexual relationship with Victoria Comstock. And they knew Stein had patient/physician and sexual relationships with Connie Alban. But there was no indication that Stein and the Comstocks had interacted socially, and there was no known business relationship between them.
So, what could tie the killer to both Comstock and Stein? She approached the problem from two angles: What was the killer’s connection to Victoria Comstock and Nathan Stein? Who might have had relationships with both victims? And whoever it was, it was apparently someone who was admitted into both victims’ houses. There had been no indication of a break-in at either crime scene.
Was there a motive someone could have to murder them both? She felt it was unlikely the murders of both individuals had anything to do with a patient/physician relationship. It was the sexual connection that seemed to offer a motive: Jealousy, perhaps? Anger?
Maybe Maxwell Comstock had discovered Stein had cuckolded him. He might have seen that as good enough reason to take out both Victoria and Stein. But, as with all of the men Barbara and Susan had interviewed in this case, Maxwell Comstock seemed to have been madly in love with Victoria, even mesmerized by her, despite her erratic, narcissistic behavior. And Comstock had been unfaithful. It would be hard to justify murdering your wife for her infidelity, when you’re slipping the salami to your executive assistant.
She went through her list of others who Victoria had touched—her ex-husbands and lovers, ex-horse-business partners, Connie Alban, Marge Stanley. But, other than Connie, she couldn’t make a connection between any of them and Stein. Could any of the ex-husbands or ex-business partners have been jealous enough to commit murder? There was no evidence any of them knew about Victoria and Stein. Besides, she didn’t believe any of them had the gumption to murder someone, especially Victoria Comstock.
She beat a riff on the tablet with her pencil. Even as she read one name, then the next, Connie Alban’s image intruded on her thoughts. On a blank page she drew a triangle. At the top of the triangle, she wrote “Connie” and circled it. She wrote “V.C. & N.S.” at another angle of the triangle and “Marge” at the third angle.
“Dammit,” she whispered, “I keep coming back through Connie to Marge Stanley.” Barbara had never felt surer about the innocence of an individual than she felt about Marge Stanley. Based on what Shawn Navarro had told her, she was certain Marge had not known about Connie and Stein’s sexual relationship, or about the videos Stein had made. But Marge was the only person she knew of so far who’d known both victims. Besides Connie Alban. And if Marge was innocent, that left Connie. Barbara wondered if the path to the killer was through Connie.
She ripped off the sheet of paper, folded it, and slipped it between the pages of her notebook. Barbara looked at the wall clock: 5 p.m. She needed to visit Susan.
Susan’s neck was stained yellowish-brown from the antiseptic applied in surgery; over her right breast the hospital gown was spotted with blood, and tubes ran from her left wrist, her chest, and her nose. An oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth. Barbara padded toward the bed. Susan’s eyes were closed. Beeps came from electronic monitors on shelves above the head of the bed.
Barbara wanted to take Susan’s hand, to tell her she was there, but was afraid she might wake her. She was about to leave, when Susan groaned and blinked her eyes open. Her mouth moved behind the oxygen mask, but Barbara couldn’t make out the words.
“Hey, girl,” Barbara said.
Susan waggled two fingers of her left hand in acknowledgement.
“I’ve got good news. Salas lifted our suspensions. We’re back on the case.”
That earned a grunt from Susan. Barbara dragged a chair over to the bed side and tried to brief Susan, but she drifted off after only a minute. Barbara squeezed her hand and promised to return soon.
CHAPTER 58
Barbara called Navarro’s cell phone. “Hey, how’s the wounded Continental?”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
Barbara laughed. “You know there’s something very strange about your relationship with that car. Remember, it’s only a machine.”
He groaned. “No woman can ever understand the bond between a man and his wheels.”
“Where are you?”
“On the way back from Santa Fe. I had a little job to do up there. Background investigation.”
“How about dinner?”
“Deal! You like Greek?”
“Yummy.”
“Good. I’ll meet you in one hour at Nick & Jimmy’s off I-25.”
“By the way, what are you driving?”
There was no response for a few seconds, then Navarro said, “My insurance company got me a Ford Escort.”
“Very racy,” Barbara said, knowing she would get a response.
“If I weren’t such a gentleman . . . .”
Nick & Jimmy’s, on Albuquerque’s Northeast side, was one of Barbara’s favorite restaurants. The staff was friendly, the place was clean, and the food superb. It pleased her that Navarro knew the place. She beat him there and was seated at the only table available. Navarro arrived a couple minutes later. He greeted her with a kiss on her cheek before he sat down. It was his first public display of affection.
“You see Susan today?”
“Yeah. She looks like she got run over by a truck.” Barbara smiled. “The doctor says she’ll recover, despite the fact that shot to her chest nicked one of her lungs.”
Navarro whistled softly. “She say how her husband got hold of a pistol?”
“Susan wasn’t lucid enough to talk. She told me the other day that Manny didn’t have a pistol.” Barbara looked pointedly at Navarro. “How are you? It’s never easy to kill someone.”
He shrugged.
Barbara decided not to pursue the subject. He’d done what he had to do. Thank God. Yet she knew that killing someone was difficult for most people. She’d shot two men in two separate incidents. One of them had recovered. One had not. The after effects of those shootings would always be with her, regardless of the provocation that had occurred, and regardless of how bad the guys were.
The waitress showed up and Barbara saw relief on Navarro’s face. She was glad for the interruption, too. They ordered iced teas, Greek salads, an order of dolmades. Barbara asked for the baked chicken dinner; Navarro ordered lamb souvlakia.
While they waited for their meals, Barbara told Navarro about her conversation with Lieutenant Salas and how he had instructed her to concentrate on the single-killer theory.
“Makes sense. But you don’t seem so sure.
”
“I went over every name that’s come up in our investigation and tried to tie one person to both victims.” She leaned her elbows on the table and bent forward. “Guess whose names kept rising to the top.”
Navarro looked momentarily at a loss. He played with his fork and finally said, “You’re not going to tell me Marge Stanley and Connie Alban?”
“Bingo. Victoria was interfering with Marge’s relationship with her daughter at the same time Stein was sleeping with the girl. So, Marge has motive out the ying-yang. And Connie, of course, knew both victims and could be the killer; although she’d have to be one hell of an actor. When I told her Victoria had been killed, the girl fell apart.”
Navarro shook his head. “How many times do we have to beat that same dead horse?”
“Look, Shawn, I don’t really think either Marge or Connie is the killer. But you’ve got to admit that, on paper, they are the individuals with motive. Especially Marge.”
Navarro put down his fork and steepled his fingers as he seemed to think about that. Finally, he asked, “Who else is still on your list who might have known Victoria and Doctor Stein?”
Barbara used her fingers to tick off names: “Connie’s boyfriend, Hector Ramirez. Maxwell Comstock. Comstock’s secretary, Judy Turner.”
“Nice little group.”
“I’ll try to get to all three of them tomorrow.”
“I’d love to be a fly on the wall when you meet with Maxwell Comstock. Wasn’t it his complaints to the powers that be that got you suspended? You know, maybe you had gotten too close and he wanted you and Susan off the case. If I had a vote, I’d target Comstock.”
“You’re right that he pulled strings to get us off the case. But I think it was purely because we pissed him off. Comstock’s got a huge ego and isn’t used to being pushed around. My impression about him is that he adored Victoria. I think he really wants the killer apprehended.”
“Yeah, but what if he knew Stein and Victoria were getting it on? Wouldn’t he want revenge? Wouldn’t he be angry enough to murder his wife?”
“You make a good point. And it sure as hell supports Salas’s theory that we should look for one killer. But Comstock wasn’t lily white. He wasn’t faithful to Victoria.”
Navarro’s eyebrows arched. “Huh, interesting.” After a beat, he said, “You need some help?”
“I just got off suspension. How do you think my lieutenant would react if he learned I worked a case with a civilian?”
“He’d be pissed?”
“No question about it.”
“Okay, but for what it’s worth, I think Salas is right. The same person murdered both victims.”
SUNDAY
JULY 4
CHAPTER 59
A ray of morning sun stabbed through the break between the curtains in Barbara’s bedroom and, like a moving laser beam, slowly transitioned from a warm spot on her cheek to a blinding light on her right eyelid. She rolled onto her back and stretched luxuriously. Her legs and back ached from the run she’d taken the evening before, but it was a good ache. She was about to roll out of bed, when a “Boom” sounded outside, followed by a second, then a third. She hopped out of bed and grabbed her service revolver, sprinted to the front door. She opened the door a crack and peeked outside just as another two “Booms” sounded.
“Jeez,” she muttered. Three kids in the street tossed firecrackers into the sewer opening in front of her house. The 4th of July. A holiday. Maybe for most people, but she had work to do.
Barbara called Judy Turner at her home and was surprised that, despite Turner’s ice-cold attitude, she agreed to meet her at Maxwell Comstock’s offices at 10:30. The fact that it was Sunday didn’t appear to be an issue for Turner.
Judy Turner said, “I’m happy to cooperate with the police investigation,” but Barbara didn’t get that impression from either Turner’s tone of voice, the set of her jaw, or her rigid posture. They sat in the reception area—Turner behind her desk, Barbara in a side chair.
“You screwed up big time when you lied to us about your boss’s whereabouts on the night of his wife’s murder,” Barbara said, trying to put Turner on the defensive. Barbara was pleased to see the woman’s posture slump and her face pale.
“Are you familiar with a Dr. Nathan Stein?”
Turner re-crossed her legs and shifted in her chair. “Well, I heard on the news that someone killed him.”
Barbara sensed the woman was playing her usual games. She answered the question with just enough information to be partially truthful, but didn’t really completely answer it. Barbara took a pair of handcuffs from her jacket pocket and placed them on Turner’s desk.
“Okay, Ms. Turner, these are the rules. The first is I get to make the rules. The second rule is if I even think you’re lying to me or holding something back, I’ll cuff you and drag your ass down to County Jail for obstruction. I’ll throw you in a cell with drunks and prostitutes. You want to hear any more of my rules?”
Turner shook her head. She swallowed. “I know Victoria saw Dr. Stein as a patient for at least a couple of years.”
“What else?”
“That’s it, I swear. The only reason I knew about it is because Maxwell frequently complained to me that she seemed to be more on edge and harder to get along with after she’d had one of her sessions with the doctor.”
“What else did he tell you about Victoria’s sessions with Stein?”
“That’s it. Why?”
“It’ll come out sooner or later. Had you ever heard anything about Stein having “personal relationships” with his patients?”
Turner’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean he was . . . ?”
“Yeah, he was,” Barbara said.
Barbara interviewed Hector Ramirez in the cafeteria of the computer software company where he worked. The boy nearly stopped breathing when Barbara told him she knew he and Connie had used Stein’s home for sexual rendezvous.
“How do you know—?”
“That’s none of your business,” Barbara growled. “What I want you to tell me is who else you screwed at the doctor’s house?”
“No one,” Hector practically shouted. “That’s the truth.” He dropped his gaze. “Connie would cut off my nuts if I was ever with another girl. She’s . . . .”
“She’s what?”
He raised his shoulders and pursed his lips. “You know.”
“I don’t know, Hector! Why don’t you tell me?”
He looked pained. “She gets real angry sometimes; kinda scary.”
“How scary?”
“Screaming. Yelling. Throwing things.” He hesitated a few seconds. “Coupla times she told me she’d kill me.”
Barbara stood and looked down at him. “Don’t leave Albuquerque,” she said. “I may need to talk with you again.” She took a step toward the door, then turned back. “I’ve got a personal theory about people who threaten to kill someone. It goes like this: Sooner or later they’ll follow through with their threat. Watch yourself, kid. You got a tiger by the tail.”
On the way to her downtown office, Barbara called Comstock at his home. She would have preferred to look him in the eye, but she didn’t want to trigger another political-influence shit storm.
“What do you want?” he barked.
“You know Dr. Nathan Stein?”
“Of course, he treated Victoria and Connie.”
“You hear about what happened to him?”
“Yes. It’s shocking.”
“Did your wife ever tell you anything about Doctor Stein’s relationship with Connie?”
“You mean about his seeing her to help her with her problems?”
“No. I mean about his having a sexual relationship with Connie. About his taping their liaisons.” She waited to see if he would add anything, but Comstock didn’t say a word. Didn’t make a sound.
“How do you feel about what I just told you?” Barbara prodded.
He didn’t answer right away. When
he did, there was a slightly angry edge to his voice. “How do you think I feel, Detective? If what you just told me is true, I’m angry as hell at Stein. And I’m angry that Connie would be such a . . . .” He couldn’t seem to finish the thought. Then he said, “Most of all, I’m pissed at you. If you were a man, I’d drive down there and kick your ass. You don’t give a shit about what this is doing to me. You’re just doing your job, right? Just like the Nazis who took orders from Hitler. Just doing their jobs. You’ve only made a bad situation worse.”
“Don’t you think comparing me to the Nazis is a little harsh?” She could make allowances for the guy, but only up to a point.
“From the beginning, your behavior’s been unconscionable.”
Barbara hated that she once again had gotten nothing of value from a sour interview with Comstock. She had handled it badly and she hadn’t even come close to putting him on the defensive. Suspects: 9—or was it 10; she’d lost count; Detective: 0.
“Thanks for your time,” she said and hung up. She would need to meet with Comstock. She wanted to be face-to-face with him when she told him about Stein’s sexual relationship with Victoria.
CHAPTER 60
Barbara had put off questioning Connie Alban again, because she would have to do it with the girl’s lawyer present. She figured it would be a waste of time—she was still convinced Connie’s shock at the news about Victoria’s murder had been genuine. But after her conversation with Hector Ramirez, Barbara knew she would have to talk to Connie now. Was the girl capable of murderous rage? Hector had seemed to think so. Plus, she needed to confront the girl about her relationship with Nathan Stein.
She checked the time and realized she’d worked right through the dinner hour and was surprised she wasn’t hungry. The hospital was less than a mile from her office. Maybe Susan would be more alert tonight.