Vanished: A Luca Mystery - Book 2

by Dan Petrosini

  She flashed a smile with her perfect teeth. They had to be bleached. Robin looked even fresher than I remembered her. Was it a bit of Botox? I tried to place her perfume as I brushed past her; it reminded me of something my wife used to wear.

  We sat across each other in a conference room that was freezing. The walls were full of colorful prints by Leroy Neiman, in a poor attempt to disguise the fact the room was windowless.

  “Sorry about the room, but this place is filled with nosy bodies.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “What did you want to see me about?” She tilted her head.

  “Lincoln Life?”

  “What?”

  “It’s come to my attention that you’re about to collect a couple of million from a policy on your husband.”

  “And what about it?”

  “How come you never mentioned it?”

  “You never asked, and frankly it’s none of your business.”

  “Look, when you filed that missing person report you made anything to do with your husband my business.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “A couple of million dollars makes a pretty strong motive.”

  “Are you saying I did away with my husband to get the insurance money?”

  Her choice of using ‘did away with’ rather than ‘killed’ was interesting. Was she subconsciously softening her actions?

  “I’m not saying anything. I’m just trying to understand why, almost ten months into his disappearance, it never came up.”

  “It just didn’t.”

  “Was this policy in effect a long time?”

  After a split-second hesitation she said, “A couple of years.”

  I expected her to be nonspecific but didn’t want to press her on that.

  “Do you have life insurance?”

  “You mean on me?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “That seems a bit unusual, to have a policy on your husband but not on you, even though I understand you earn more than him.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Mind explaining that?”

  “I was supposed to get covered, but I never went for the medical exam and the application lapsed.”

  It not only made sense, but it was something I’d done myself, despite the badgering from the insurance salesman. I moved on.

  “What made you file for the payout now, while there’s an active investigation going on?”

  Anger flashed over her face. “Active? You got to be kidding me.”

  I was surprised by the outburst; it seemed genuine.

  “What made you file?”

  “A friend of mine mentioned it to me. She said that after a year an insurance company had to pay and that I could file ninety days before the year was up. Why shouldn’t I get the proceeds as soon as I’m entitled? They had no problem taking my premiums.”

  “That friend happen to be Dom Stewart?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “No.”

  “You have any plans for the money?”

  “You seem preoccupied with money, Detective.”

  She sidestepped the bait, so I said, “In my business you learn pretty quickly that more people have been murdered over money than lust.”

  She smiled. “Greed is powerful.”

  “Hope you don’t mind me asking, but exactly how much insurance was on Mr. Gabelli? Two, three million?”

  “Three.”

  “Wow. Three million dollars. Boy, where I come from, that’s a lot of money.”

  She shrugged.

  “That was a nice commission for the sales guy.”

  “I guess so.”

  “What’s the name of the salesperson?”

  “Why do you want that?”

  I heard a trace of panic in her voice, so I said, “Routine. Nothing specific. I don’t need it.”

  “It’s no big deal. I can try and look it up for you.”

  Look it up? You’d go straight to the salesperson to collect on something like this. Why try to navigate a behemoth insurance company alone?

  “Okay, thanks. I guess it’s the same guy you filed your application with.”

  “Uh, I, uh. You know what? I used a different agent than Phil.”

  “Really? Why was that?”

  “A friend of a friend had a kid starting out and I wanted to throw him some business. You know how that is.”

  Friend of a friend? “That was nice of you.”

  “I try to help when I can.”

  “Only trouble is, you never went through with it, so the kid didn’t make a dime.”

  She couldn’t hide the flicker of anger that ran across her face. “Well, I tried. It’s more than most people do.”

  I stood. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Gabelli. When you can, I’d like the name of both insurance salesmen.”

  I didn’t know what to make of this seesaw. It was three million dollars, and she never mentioned it? I didn’t like her answers about her insurance; she was hiding something. Yet she truly seemed pissed that we’d been unable to find out what happened with her husband. She was smart, and there was no doubt she could be a bitch, but a killer?

  Chapter 23

  Luca

  Cruising on Golden Gate Parkway, I was headed to yet another doctor visit when my radio crackled:

  “Request officers in the Golden Gates vicinity to respond to a possible seventy-one underway at 16715 Tropical Way.”

  The address was vaguely familiar. “This is Detective Luca. Ten-fifty-one. ETA in five minutes. What can you tell me?”

  “All’s we know is a little kid called in saying his mother was being beaten up. It seems real, but, as usual, be on ambush alert.”

  By the time I holstered the handset, an uneasy feeling erupted in my belly, and it had nothing to do with my bladder. I tried to tamp down my rising fear as I turned onto Santa Barbara Blvd. The area was too damn familiar and I prayed for the best as I pulled up, knowing it wasn’t a setup.

  The front door was ajar and I steeled myself as I trotted up the walk, keeping my hand ready to draw my gun. Comforted by the sound of a woman sobbing, which I knew would be a redhead, I entered the house, announcing my presence as an officer. No amount of wishing it was déjà vu could change the facts. I had been here before.

  A TV was on somewhere, but the family room was empty. Stepping over two overturned chairs, I headed toward the crying.

  They were in the bedroom. Two little kids were whimpering in a corner near their badly beaten mother, who was sprawled on the floor. I waved to the children and knelt by the woman. Blood was oozing from a nasty cut on her cheek, and she had a bruise on her forehead.

  “Ma’am, I’m a police officer here to help.”

  She nodded her head as I checked her pulse.

  “Good. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to call for an ambulance.”

  I radioed the request in and told the kids I’d be right back. Closing the door behind me, I drew my pistol and headed down the hallway. Fast asleep, in a brown corduroy recliner, was the wife beater. I scanned the room for possible recording devices but there didn’t seem to be any.

  Stepping quietly toward him, I barely resisted the urge to bash his cowardly face in. So, I did the next best thing. I slammed the butt of my gun into the mousy bastard’s kneecap. He bolted awake, screaming in pain. Then I whacked his other knee.

  I held my gun up. “Shut up or I’ll put a piece of lead in you.”

  “I, I—”

  “I told you to shut up.” I turned the TV off and said to him, “You move out of this room, you’re going to catch a bullet from me. You hear?”

  The coward nodded. I closed the door behind and headed back to the bedroom as the EMT crew piled into the house. As they began tending to the woman, two uniformed officers arrived. The bedroom was overcrowded, so I asked the kids to step into the hall.

>   “You can see from over there. We just need to give these people some room to help your mother.”

  Then I crouched beside her. “Ma’am, we’re all here to help. I just need to know that it was your husband who did this to you.”

  She turned her head away.

  “Look, I was here a couple of months ago. Remember, when he broke your mother’s vase?”

  She began to cry. “He’ll kill me, me and the kids, if I say anything.”

  “No, he won’t. We’re here to protect you and your children. Do you have family that can tend to the kids while you go to the hospital?”

  She shook her head. “No, they’re up in New Hampshire, and I ain’t going to any hospital.”

  “You have to, you’re bleeding and you’ve got to be checked out.”

  An EMT responder said, “Want me to call Family Services?”

  “I don’t want my kids being wards of the state! I can take care of my own kids!”

  I said, “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’m not gonna let your kids go anywhere. Is there a neighbor they’re comfortable staying with while we make sure you’re okay?”

  “Mrs. Hannity loves the kids, but she works till five.”

  I checked my watch; it was a bit before one. Approaching the kids, I smiled as broadly as possible and said, “My name’s Detective Luca. Mommy’s going to go to the doctors to make sure she’s all right. Since Mrs. Hannity is working, I thought we could go grab some lunch together, okay?”

  The older one said, “Can’t we stay with daddy?”

  “I’m afraid not. You see, we’re going to need his help with your mother for a while. Hey, I got a good idea, what do you say we hit the zoo after we eat?”

  ***

  It was tough keeping a good face on while I was with the children. What a mess, and I’d contributed to it. No, I was responsible for today’s disaster. These poor kids, chances were their father’s persona non grata, and he should be. But kids, what do they know? Besides, your family is your family, and we all defend them no matter how crazy it seems at times.

  Shit was piling up on me. Why did I let that beast off the hook when I could’ve, no, should’ve locked his ass up?

  When the first 911 call came in was when things started sliding physically, and now, the proof was in, mentally. Was I fit enough to serve anymore?

  I reached back to that day. How had I let this brute off the hook? I remembered the intermittent stabbing feeling in my gut, but I don’t recall that being the reason. It’s not like I hightailed it out of there because I had a lot of pain.

  What did I miss? Going over it again, I really couldn’t see anything. The fact was, even if I’d hauled his sorry ass in, he’d be out and about in days. And unless his wife got a restraining order, this would have happened anyway. She wasn’t the type to stand up and get a court order.

  Hold on, Luca, what are you doing? Letting yourself off the hook?

  I felt a wee bit better thinking about the dozens and dozens of these types of cases I’d been through. The depressing fact was that it took a severe beating like this one to motivate a woman to seek legal protection. Even crazier were the countless women who defended the pond scum that abused them and resisted the advice we gave. What in the world would it take to get them to a safe place?

  Man, I needed a jolt out of my funk, a chance to think and relax. Vanderbilt Beach, here I come.

  Chapter 24

  Luca

  “Mr. Eagleton, this is Detective Luca with the Collier County Sheriff. I’d like to ask you a few questions about a policy you wrote for Lincoln Life on Phil Gabelli.”

  “Oh, Robin said you would be calling.”

  “Mrs. Gabelli told you I’d call?”

  “Yes, said she didn’t want me to be surprised, said it was routine. It is routine, isn’t it?”

  “I really can’t talk about it, but we’re trying to learn as much as possible about Phil Gabelli.”

  “Of course. It’s a damn shame about him, though. He was a nice guy. Healthy too.”

  “The policy he had, I understand the death benefit was three million. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’d they arrive at that number?”

  “If I recall, they originally talked about a million, but Robin wanted more. She was looking for five million, but the premiums were expensive. I suggested they do a second-to-die policy. Since they were so young, they could’ve gotten five or maybe even six million in coverage for the same premium.”

  “Second to die?”

  “It’s a policy where the payout occurs upon the deaths of both of the insured. When one person passes, nothing is paid, only when the second person dies. Many married couples use that type of policy.”

  “You suggested this to them?”

  “Yes. She wanted a higher death benefit, and it was a way to get a higher dollar coverage for around the same premium cost.”

  “Was there a reason they didn’t take your suggestion?”

  “I explained the benefits of that type of policy, but Mrs. Gabelli said since they had no children it didn’t make sense.”

  “Did it?”

  “It’s true that many couples use it to pass down the benefit to their heirs. But I suggested it because this wasn’t a part of an estate plan.”

  “Did you consider it unusual that Mrs. Gabelli didn’t get insured?”

  “When I first talked with them, it was a typical husband-and-wife coverage situation. But when it was time for the applications, Mrs. Gabelli said she wasn’t going to apply.”

  “She never even filed an application?”

  “No, not with me anyway.”

  “Was Mr. Gabelli a good risk. I forget what you call it, but in good health and all?”

  “Yes, he qualified for the lowest premium, which made the fact they didn’t take the accidental death rider surprising.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s quite typical, especially in younger, healthy applicants, that they take a rider, or additional coverage for an accidental death, say a fatal car accident. The death benefit is doubled when an accidental death befalls an insured party. In their case, the payout would jump from three to six million.”

  “And the Gabellis passed on it?”

  “Yes. It was surprising because it wasn’t expensive.”

  ***

  Vargas was wearing a powder-blue blouse and the herringbone slacks that I liked. But something about her looked different, better.

  “You get a new hairdo, Vargas?”

  “Hairdo? You’re showing your age, Frank.”

  If she only knew that I was on the verge of asking for a prescription for little blue pills to wake up Little Luca, who had as much structure these days as an empty sock.

  “Geez, just trying to pay you a compliment.”

  “Really? It’d be nice if you just say it then.”

  I felt like a jerk and changed the subject.

  “After talking with the Lincoln Life guy, things just got a bit more complicated.”

  “What did he say?”

  “First off, it was Robin who upped the insurance from a million to three. But get this, she really wanted five.”

  “So why did she settle for three?”

  “Too much in premiums.”

  “That’s ridiculous. If she was going to off him and collect, what would it matter how high the premiums were?”

  “Good point, but maybe she didn’t have the cash flow. But two other strange things came up. One is they passed on an accidental death benefit. That’s a red flag in my book. It costs peanuts, and the death benefit is doubled. Why the hell would they pass on that?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know. You said there was another thing.”

  “Eagleton offered them another way to jack up the death dollars while keeping the premiums down, with something called second to die. It’s where both people have to die before there’s a payout.�
��

  “I don’t know what that implies, Frank. I’d have to think about it, but they don’t have kids, so who’d get the money when they both died?”

  “Good point, but the accidental thing is troubling. Between the timing of the insurance, the amount, and the passing on the accidental death, things are starting to add up. And it points to her.”

  “It’s somewhat circumstantial. But why don’t we just ask her, see what she says?”

  “She better not try to stonewall us, like she did with her husband’s gambling.”

  Chapter 25

  Stewart

  “The whole world steps aside for the man who knows where he is going.” - Unknown

  It felt good to finally have something work. After calling the hotline, it took less than a day for Robin to panic and look to me for comfort. Sometimes she can be so predictable. I knew they’d be looking at her, and they should. Three million bucks is three million bucks. That buys a lot of happiness from where I stand.

  It was weird, though, that she passed on the accidental death thing. She said that since he worked in an office and didn’t do any dangerous sports or ride a motorcycle it wasn’t worth it. It seemed to make sense, but when I googled it, the top five causes had nothing to do with work or sports. It wasn’t surprising that car crashes were the number-one killer, but who would’ve thought that choking, fires, poisoning, and falls would round out the top five. Strange, if you ask me.

  The cops would have to dig deeper on the accidental thing as Robin’s reasoning didn’t hold together in my eyes. Not only did she stand to benefit to the tune of three million, but she was manipulative. Robin would be put under the microscope now. As far as I was concerned, she deserved to get put through the mill at this point.

  Overall, I felt good about my timing. Her birthday was right around the corner, and we’d be going out to celebrate for sure. It’d be nice to have a bit more momentum going into it. Maybe it was time to tell that uppity detective something else.

  Then, on top of that, I could spice things up by making her jealous. That’s a surefire way to motivate a woman. It’s worked in the past, and even though she’s different, Robin’s not that different from the others.