“Look guys, it’s just a harmless show. I mean she loved to put these parties on and no one ever really got hurt.”
“Mrs. Rotelli did.”
“I mean in the basement. It was like a club, you know? You paid a membership fee and extra for any other services you might want to indulge in.”
“Sex?”
“Among other things, but yes.”
“What was the ‘Club’ fee to join?”
“Twenty thousand to join the first year and ten thousand every year after that.”
“How did you get to join?” Brad asked.
“You had to be invited to join and that person had to vouch for you. The clientele was very select.”
“No riffraff.”
“Exactly.”
“How long have you been going to these events?” Dan asked.
“Two years,” he replied.
“So how do you pull that off? Where does the twenty thousand come from to pay those dues? You couldn’t very well just write a check for that amount without your wife asking questions, I would think.”
“I write the check from the City and then pay it back a little at a time.”
“Oh Mr. Townsend you are so cooked you can’t even imagine. That is embezzlement and you darn well know it. It doesn’t matter if you pay it back or not. Among other things you are certainly going to be charged with that.”
“Look, I know things. I could give you names and we could cut a deal,” he said, sweat breaking out on his upper lip. All the smugness was gone now and only fear remained.
“I doubt you can bring much to the table Mr. Townsend. We already have the names of over forty people who go to the so called club. We don’t need your list of names. Everyone we bring in will be asking to cut a deal. What you could do is tell us why you killed her. What happened?” Dan asked.
“What? I didn’t kill her. I thought the world of Mimi. She was such a free spirit. Her shows were to die for. Sorry, bad choice of words. She was such a show person. Nothing was gaudy. It was all done with a flair that has to be seen to be believed.”
“Well Mr. Townsend, I doubt you will have a chance to ever see another one unless it happens to be playing in prison,” Dan said.
**
The interview went on for another forty-five minutes before Dan and Pendergrass were satisfied with his story. Just looking at him I knew he didn’t have the nerve to kill Mimi Rotelli. If anything, he idolized her and murder was the furthest thing from his mind.
Dan took him down to the holding cell and booked him on embezzlement charges. Whether the city would want us to prosecute or not was between the Mayor and the DA’s Office. The only thing we gained was one less suspect.
“He didn’t do it,” Pendergrass said putting his butt on the edge of my desk. Normally that sets me off but Brad was sort of like family so I just let it go.
“I agree. Doesn’t have the killer genes. He is the type who would have cut himself, he is such a dork.”
“Dan did a good job in there,” Brad said.
Pretty high praise from the FBI. Wait. Was he going to try to steal him away like he did me on a couple of earlier cases?
“No,” he said.
“No? What?” I said innocently.
“No, I’m not trying to recruit him.”
“I wasn’t even thinking that.”
“Liar,” Brad replied
“I wasn’t.”
“Angie.”
“Okay, the thought had crossed my mind,” I finally confessed looking sheepish.
“Relax. I want you to come join us. Dan isn’t ready yet.”
I had news for them. The FBI wasn’t ready for me yet.
CHAPTER TEN
The job seems simple enough. Someone breaks the law. We follow the clues, catch the guy and the courts put them in jail. How much simpler could it be?
The problem as you already know, is that it isn’t like it appears on television where the whole thing takes exactly one hour, including commercials. Hours and hours of leg work, checking facts, and following up leads go into it long before it is turned over to the DA and eventually the courts.
We were at that stage now. So far everything was leading us to blank walls and then out of the blue, it hit the fan big time. I found out by way of the nine o’clock news.
I was chewing on a cold leftover pork chop and had just taken a big swig of Diet Coke when the Breaking News banner scrolled across the bottom of the screen. I almost spit coke out of my nose when I saw; CITY SEX CLUB under the talking heads.
Good evening, I’m Sarah Van Kemp, and I’m Richard Arnold. Tonight’s top story; sex club for the city’s elite clientele. WATV has learned that a list of some of the city’s most prominent citizens belonged to a private sex club that met in a theater in the home of murdered multi-millionaire Mimi Rotelli. The list was obtained from a source close to the investigation.
That’s right Sarah. The list includes over forty names and reads like the Who’s-Who of prominent government Officials, industry CEOs. Even attorneys are included on the list...
I sat there stunned. The very thing we had been working so hard to keep out of the public eye had suddenly reared its ugly head. How could it have happened? Who would do such a thing and at what risk? It was obvious that it had to have come from within the police department. I sure hope they got a lot of money because more than likely they were going to not only lose their job but the city would sue them as well.
Just then my cell phone rang. It was Dan.
“Bartoni.”
“The captain is on the way to the Mayor’s office. He wants me to collect you if you feel up to it,” Dan said.
“Sure. I will take me a few minutes to get dressed. It’s still hard to get clothes on and off.”
“Need help?”
“Don’t be a smartass,” I said, less than amused.
“Ten minutes okay?”
“That should do.”
**
“How in the hell did this get out?” the Mayor said almost purple in the face.
His anger was mostly directed at the captain but nevertheless we were still being clumped together.
“I know it wasn’t my people. We talked about this happening and the potential problems. This causes even more problems for my investigators. The last thing we need is a three ring circus detracting from the investigation,” the captain said, rather calmly I thought.
“Well someone damn sure did.”
“And you need to look somewhere else for that someone. Stop and think about it Mayor. The list was faxed to you beforehand so Bartoni could go over it with you. How many people in your own office could have seen the list?”
“No one would dare. Not in my office,” he said sitting down for the first time since we arrived.
“But it could have happened. Then there is the lab and the CSI people. I understand your frustration but you are barking up the wrong tree by calling us in at this time of night.”
“My God, what a mess. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing. I want to know who did this. Someone’s head is going to roll I can guarantee that,” he said, fuming.
“Internal Affairs should handle that. We have no right to investigate that issue.”
“I’m giving you the right,” he said.
“Sorry. My people have enough going on at this time. I agree it is a mess but that is what IAD does.”
The Mayor glared at the captain for a minute but it was obvious that McGregor wasn’t about to put us in that kind of position. Everyone pretty much hates IAD anyway so why not let them handle it?
“Alright. I see the logic in what you are saying but we need to hold a press conference and tell them something. The problem is, I don’t know what to tell them,” the Mayor said.
“How about ‘No comment’,” I suggested.
“You’re a riot Bartoni,” He said.
“I’m not being funny. Just tell them it is an ongoing investigation and you have no comment until everythi
ng is verified,” I replied.
He sat there mulling that over for a few seconds and then shook his head.
“That will work. That is what I want all of us to do, me included.”
“You got it,” McGregor told him.
Crisis avoided, for now at least.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Every TV news station, print media, and radio station tried to ambush us the next morning. It was like a war zone trying to fight our way through the mob. It had turned into a national event. Nothing like politics and sex to get the masses stirred up. Everyone loves dirty laundry. Kick em when they’re up, kick em when they’re down, or so the Don Henley song goes.
“This is screwing up everything,” I said, stating the obvious.
No one even bothered to comment. Getting the people we wanted to talk to into the station was next to impossible. Going to them was just as challenging.
“Let’s send a SWAT vehicle to get Doctor Rotelli in here. His attorney will obviously want to come with him,” Dan said.
“Perhaps you forgot. He is a prime suspect. I doubt the doctor is thinking too highly of him right at the moment,” I pointed out.
“Then let’s just go and collect Asher and haul his butt down here. He has a lot of explaining to do. Hell, you don’t need a SWAT vehicle. We will go get him in ours,” Brad said.
“You actually think you can get through the crowd once they know you have Asher in the car?” Dan asked.
“We can if you have enough police officers out front to clear a path.”
“What do you think Angie?” Dan asked.
“Hey, we aren’t accomplishing anything sitting around like this. Brad, you guys go bring him in. Marsha, when he gets here I would ask you to watch through the window and tell me what you see. Eric, get every scrap of information you can on Wesley Asher,” I told them.
At least we were doing something. My leg was killing me so I hobbled over and got a Diet Coke and took four aspirin. I wanted to take one of the pain pills the doctor gave me but decided against it with Asher coming in.
“It’s only nine o’clock and you already look exhausted Bartoni,” the captain said coming over to my desk.
At least he wasn’t just bellowing for me now. That was a nice change of pace.
“It’s just my leg. It’s pretty hard to sleep at night.”
“How is the therapy going?”
“I hate it, but I do it.”
“Good, it’s the key to recovery.”
I wasn’t sure what this was all about but he seemed content to just sit and chit-chat for a few minutes before he headed back to his lair.
**
We had two dozen officers lining the walk so that Brad could hustle Asher in. To his credit, he didn’t cover his face or any of that silly stuff that people do. I’ve never figured that out. You’re caught dude, it’s too late to hide your face then.
Brad took him to the interrogation room and Dan and I went in to talk to Asher.
“You have damaged my reputation,” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Not true. You damaged your reputation. We didn’t make you go to that basement sex club.”
“I have never been in that basement. Someone, probably the police, planted that evidence.”
“Well that’s a unique defense. Think of that all by yourself did you? I sure hope you don’t intend to represent yourself or you will be in a world of hurt. We know you were there. We have your fingerprints in six different rooms besides the basement. We even found your prints up on the stage, so you were a participant as well. What does Mr. Rotelli think about this latest development?” I asked.
“We haven’t talked about it yet. I intend to go there when this is over and discuss it with him.”
“So Asher, you were a member of Mimi’s little sex club. How did you get drawn into that? Why take such a great risk, especially since you made a huge portion of your salary from the woman’s husband. Just how did you think that was going to play out?”
“Look, you saw Mimi. She was absolutely stunning. She asked me if I wanted to join. I just went one time. I wasn’t a member like most of them.”
“Wesley, Wesley, Wesley, you are a very bad liar for an attorney. I thought you guys were really practiced at that sort of thing. You’re letting the other attorneys down.”
“That is not amusing, Detective.”
“It is from where I’m sitting. One time my butt. We lifted twenty-three sets of your prints on everything from the bathroom, to the stage, to your favorite table. Cut the crap Asher. Do you know what the ones that intrigue me the most are?”
“I didn’t kill Mimi,” he suddenly shouted out.
“I didn’t ask yet. What I was going to say is, the ones that intrigued me the most were the ones in her bathroom. I find that very odd to say the least. The house has fifteen full size bathrooms and seven half baths and you end up using the one in Mimi’s personal room. How did that come about?”
Poor Asher. He put his face in his hands. What the hell, the guy is a shark. He has had time to come up with a pretty good story and yet this was the best he could do?
“What happened? Was she blackmailing you?” I asked.
“Heaven’s no. She had considerably more money that I have. Blackmailing me would have been a drop in the bucket to someone like her.”
“So what was it, just the sex?”
“Partly. I mean she was an amazing woman.”
“You know Asher for an attorney you aren’t too bright,” Dan said.
“I’m pretty much ruined now anyway so what difference does it make that I was there. The media has already passed sentence on us as it is,” he said leaning back and sighing heavily.
“Did you kill Mimi?” I asked.
“Kill her? Heavens no. I was in love with her. I wanted her to leave that pompous ass husband of hers but she had it made and what could I offer her? If she left him she would be taking a step back and that was not Mimi’s style.”
“Any idea who did kill her?” Dan asked.
“Not a clue. Maybe Gill got tired of her ways and had it done or he did it,” Asher said.
“Do you honestly think he could kill her? He is hardly the type,” Dan replied.
“Detective Roberts, by now you surely know there is no type. You just need a compelling motive.”
**
We cut him loose for three reasons. Fist because I believed that he didn’t kill her. Second, we didn’t have anything to really hold him on. Most importantly, the DA told us to.
We were pretty much back where we started but we decided to do two things, call in our next person of interest and take a closer look at Doctor Gill Rotelli.
“Same routine?” Brad asked.
“Yes. It worked well last time. Can’t see any reason to change it,” I told him.
“Then we are off to get Captain James Tyson.”
“This ought to be interesting,” Dan said.
“Indeed. That’s one reason I’m glad they are going. Bringing in a police captain won’t win us any points. I think we should let them handle the whole thing. We can work with Eric on Gill and Mimi Rotelli.”
“That certainly works for me,” Dan replied.
We reviewed our plans with the Captain and even he seemed relieved that the FBI was going to handle this part. He had known Tyson for a long time and didn’t want any bad blood between them. The FBI could act as a buffer.
We went to Eric and it was an hour later when my phone rang. We were digging up some pretty interesting stuff on Mimi Rotelli. It seems she didn’t exist no matter how far how back we went. I figured if Eric couldn’t find her, no one could. How does that happen? I mean, I assume she was born like the rest of us. Someone should have some record of her someplace.
The one thing about Eric is that he is like a dog looking for a place to bury a bone. He just won’t quit.
“Got her,” he said in his usual monotone voice.
“You found Mimi?”
> “Her real name is Millicent Foster. She was born in a small town in northwest Montana. A place called Browning. It’s at the base of the Rockies with a population around 8,600 people. Her parents were killed in a car wreck when she was 10 and she was adopted by her Aunt and Uncle.
She went to college at Strayer University. She graduated with honors and then just dropped off the face of the earth. The next time she shows up is in Chicago. There is a huge gap again until she weds Doctor Gill Rotelli.
“So why the deceit? What is she running from? I’m wondering if her past might have caught up with her,” I speculated.
“I don’t know but I intend to keep digging,” Eric told us determinedly.
It wasn’t much but it was a start and a lot more than we had previously. Now all I could do was let him run wild. I did have Dan go run a criminal background check but didn’t really expect anything to pop up.
CHAPTER T WELVE
The interview with Captain Tyson was a disaster from the word go. He was irritated because the Feds had come to collect him. He was torqued that they were the ones that would be doing the interview. He was mad as hell at Captain McGregor because he wouldn’t come and talk to him. In short, his feathers were ruffled.
Tough bananas. He put himself in that interview room, not us, not the FBI and not Captain McGregor. I watched through the window as Brad pretty well raked him over the coals. It was not pretty. Brad was a lot tougher than I had realized.
“Well Captain Tyson, you get whomever you want in here. We will be more than happy to make the call for you. I can tell you this however. Your career is over the minute you make that call. You may be a big dog at your station house but in this room I’m the big dog. I suggest you get your head on straight and start answering my questions. You saw the press outside. I wouldn’t hesitate to tell them what I thought of your part in this affair.”
“You do and I sue you into the weeds.”
“Really? That would be interesting. How much of this do you want brought up in court? Talk about the press having a field day,” Brad replied.
THE CLUB - ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILE Page 5