Amy Patricia Meade - Marjorie McClelland 02 - Ghost of a Chance

by Amy Patricia Meade

  “What do you mean `more than once’?”

  Jameson took over. “We know you and Josie have a criminal record. The files from New York will be here tomorrow, but I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you the chance to tell your story, before we receive them.”

  Saporito mulled this over. “What do I get in return?”

  “A chance to tell your side of the story before I get the files and form my own opinion” Jameson leaned forward. “We know you and Josie were never divorced. We know that Josie was preparing to leave Hartford before Alfred was even dead. We know Alfred had arranged to meet two people at the fair on Saturday and that you have no alibi, except for what Josie can give you. You want me to draw my own conclusions? Because I will.”

  Saporito sat up and placed his hands on the table. “If you think I’m going to jail, you’d better guess again.”

  “If you killed Alfred Nussbaum, you’re going to jail anyway.”

  “I didn’t kill Nussbaum!”

  “Then tell us where you were. If you killed Nussbaum, I’ll find out one way or another. But, if all you were doing was running a scam, I’ll put in a good word. You’ll serve nine, ten months, tops.”

  “Ten months? Easy for you to say. You’ve never been in the pen.” He shook his head. “No dice. I’ll take my chances”

  “Oh yeah? I wonder if Josie feels the same way. Creighton,” Jameson addressed the Englishman, “call Noonan and tell him to pick up Josie. Explain to him what’s been going on.”

  Creighton nodded and headed toward the door.

  “Don’t,” Saporito nearly yelled. “Don’t pick up Josie. She’s innocent in all this”

  The Englishman sat back down.

  “It was my idea,” Mattie continued. “I saw Nussbaum throwing money around at my club, so I figured he was loaded. I knew he had a thing for Josie; he never missed a show. So, I asked her to get friendly with him.”

  “Josie’s your wife,” Marjorie said, aghast.

  “Yeah, but the club wasn’t doing well. The bill collectors were at our heels. I thought the chump would give Josie a couple of furs and that would be the end of it. But this guy was serious. He said he wanted to marry her.”

  “And you couldn’t refuse,” Marjorie alleged.

  “Look, angel, you may not like what I did, but it was our ticket out of Boston and out of that dive. Nussbaum gave Josie almost everything he earned.”

  “Yeah and left his wife and two children to fend for themselves.”

  Saporito looked down at the table. “I’m sorry about that. I really am. I don’t like taking the food outta kids’ mouths, but it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there. And it’s not like I took nothin’ Nussbaum gave it to Josie-so it’s hers fair-and-square”

  “How romantic,” Creighton remarked again. “I’m sure Nussbaum would have been thrilled to know that Josie was sharing the money with her so-called `ex-husband”’

  “Hey, it winds up Nussbaum wasn’t on the level either. So now I don’t feel so bad.”

  “You should,” Jameson commented. “It means that any life insurance policies Josie took out are invalid.”

  Saporito laughed. “You really are a piece of work, Detective. You think I’d have chanced an investigation by an insurance company? Nah, I wanted my money up front. Josie told Nussbaum that she was still legally married to me-she was brilliant, really turned on the waterworks. I tell ya, she’s a good dancer, but she’s an even better actress. She told the old man that she wanted to marry him and that she lied about the divorce because she didn’t want to lose him. He bought it, hook, line, and sinker!”

  “I don’t get it,” Marjorie admitted. “What was in that for you?”

  “I’m getting to it, angel. See, I was the heavy. Josie told Nussbaum that I wouldn’t give her a divorce. I was heartless, cruel-a real villain. Of course, Nussbaum took the bait and came to the club. I told him I’d give Josie a divorce if he gave me $5,000 in cash.”

  “How did you think he’d come up with $5,000?” Marjorie asked.

  “Josie told me he had a big business deal he was counting on. She didn’t know how much he was getting, but I named my price and he didn’t even bat an eye. Made me think I should’ve asked for more. But, if there’s one thing the extortion racket teaches ya, it’s that ya can’t be greedy.”

  “How very honorable of you,” Creighton quipped. “I’m sure you’ll be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize for your humanitarian efforts. This exchange of money, however-where was it to take place?”

  “The fair at noon. Nussbaum set the time and place. I was to meet him outside the Ferris wheel. It all sounded pretty Hollywood to me-money in a burlap sack and all that jazz-but I went along with it.”

  “And after you got your money, what then?” Jameson prodded.

  “Well, that’s the thing,” Saportio minced, “I kinda lied to Nussbaum about the divorce. While I was getting the money, Josie packed her things. The plan was I’d pick her up at the hotel and we’d take off with the dough. I kinda felt bad for Nussbaum at the time, but now that I know he was still married, that changes everything. Honestly, some people are so crooked, they don’t even take marriage seriously.”

  Creighton rolled his eyes. “Mmm. Like you said, it’s a dog-eatdog world.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. But, live and learn,” Saporito waxed philosophical. “Anyways, this should put me in the clear for killing that crumb Nussbaum.”

  “How?” Jameson challenged. “All your story proves is that you were at the fair on the day of the murder.”

  “What do ya mean? I had no gripe with Nussbaum. Why would I wanna kill him?”

  “You may not have had a gripe with Nussbaum, but he may have had one with you. If he sensed that things weren’t on the upand-up with you and Josie, he could have caused problems for both of you. Problems that would have required him to be silenced.”

  “That’s not how it happened,” Saporito insisted. “I didn’t get to the fair until eleven forty-five. Nussbaum was dead before I could even meet with him. Someone bumped him off before I could get the money. I swear to God! I may be a blackmailer but I ain’t a killer.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Jameson proclaimed. “I suppose no one can vouch that you arrived at the fair at eleven forty-five?”

  “No, but-”

  “I thought not. In which case, we’re going totally by your word. Not exactly a watertight alibi. Besides, you still haven’t explained that note.” Jameson left the table and leaned into the hallway to summon someone.

  “What note? I told you I don’t know nothin’ about a note!”

  Jameson returned to the table and pulled the paper lined with numbers from a manilla folder. He placed it in front of Saporito.

  “You think I wrote this? Like I’d write something in numbers. I hated math as a kid-numbers mean nothing to me!”

  Detective Logan entered the room with a uniformed police officer.

  “How do you explain your name as the signature?” Jameson probed.

  “I dunno. But it’s not me. I swear to God!” He invoked the sign of the cross. “You have to believe me. The plan was to get the money and run away. Nothing more. I wouldn’t have put anything in code. I couldn’t.”

  “What about Josie? Or is she still innocent?”

  “Josie? I never … I never thought about her writing it.”

  Jameson nodded to Logan and the uniformed officer helped Saporito out of his seat.

  “Angel,” he implored of Marjorie. “Angel, have a heart. Tell him I didn’t do it.”

  “I won’t tell him anything of the sort. I don’t even know youexcept that you’re a married man who let his wife live with another man to turn a profit.” Marjorie pulled a face. “You should be locked up on that count alone.” She waved Logan and the uniformed officer out of the room and then quickly summoned them back. “Oh, and if you want me on your side, don’t call me `angel.”

  With that, she waved the suspect away without
so much as a backward glance.

  SEVENTEEN

  THE TRIO STEPPED OUT of the brick police department building and into the late afternoon sunshine.

  Creighton glimpsed at his watch. “Five minutes after five. Perfect. Vanessa instructed me to invite you both back for dinner and drinks. That is, if you’re off duty for this evening, Jameson. Which, according to my clock, you should be.”

  Jameson nodded. “Logan’s out arresting Josie for her part in the extortion scheme, so there’s nothing else for me to do today. Where did you park?”

  “I didn’t bring the car. Vanessa’s house is just a few blocks from here-by the time I got that old jalopy of Mrs. Patterson’s started I could have walked here and back three times.”

  “Ha ha,” Marjorie scoffed. “You’ll be surprised how smoothly that car drives when you take it back to Ridgebury.”

  “Yes, when it stalls and I have to coast downhill.”

  It was Jameson’s turn to laugh. “We’ll walk with you, Creighton. I parked the car in the station lot, so it’ll be safe until we’re done”

  “Yes,” Marjorie agreed. “We’ll walk with you despite your shortsightedness. It’s a beautiful day-and I could use some exercise and fresh air.”

  The trio started walking in the direction of the Randolph home. “I say, Jameson,” the Englishman ventured, “I’m not one to question your methods, but why didn’t you arrest Herbert Nussbaum? It seemed like we had enough evidence to hold him.”

  Marjorie concurred. “I’m surprised too. Logan found him working on the darts and the cab driver witnessed him at the crime scene. I know it’s not enough to convict him, but aren’t you afraid he and his mother may try to pull a `Josie’ and skip town?”

  “That’s why Logan has a bunch of his men trailing the Nussbaums. If any of them so much as look at a train schedule, they’ll bring them in.”

  “Ok, but why not arrest them at the station?” Marjorie pursued.

  “A couple of reasons. First, Herbert Nussbaum is a minor. If I arrest that kid before I’m 100 percent certain he’s the killer, the press, the mayor, my sergeant, and every child welfare organization in the country would have a field day-all at my expense. Not to mention I have proof that Mateo Saporito-a man with a criminal record-was at the fair about the same time Herbert was, and that he had an equally strong motive for murder. No, the first major arrest in this case is not going to be of a smart-aleck, sixteen-yearold kid. Not if I can help it.” He paused. “Second, there are three people in that house, all of whom had a motive to kill Alfred Nussbaum. Even if Herbert committed the crime, we can’t be certain he acted alone. Not after Bernice made that slip about the Hideaway Hotel. Herbert obeys his mother’s every word. It’s entirely feasible that she came up with the idea and asked Herbert to carry it out.”

  “It’s a definite possibility,” Creighton agreed. “We all saw how she bullied him into denying that he was at the fair.” He did a deadon impersonation of Mrs. Nussbaum: “Herbert, Mommy’s defending you!”

  Marjorie giggled. “Yes, but the fact that he was at the fair appeared to startle her. You saw how she reacted. That was genuine surprise. She even started to say something, and then thought better of it. `I didn’t know you were…’ That’s what she said.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” Jameson countered. “Bernice could have asked Herbert to make the darts and committed the crime herself. Herbert’s a morbid kid. He could have sneaked off to the fair to watch his mother bump off his father, and Bernice would be none the wiser. Heck, even Natalie could be tied up in this somehow. It wouldn’t have taken much coercion on her part to convince her brother to participate in an honest-to-goodness, real-life crime.”

  “Yes, but we have no evidence that either of them were in Ridgebury on Saturday,” Creighton pointed out.

  “Not yet, but I’ve had Noonan scouring train and bus stations to see if anyone remembers seeing Bernice or Natalie. They don’t have a car and they have don’t enough money to hire a cab all the way to Ridgebury. If either of them were there, it’s a safe bet they took either the bus or the train.”

  “Hmmm. Had I known so many people were headed to Ridgebury, I’d have opened you a hot dog stand, Marjorie,” Creighton quipped. “It’s less work than these murder investigations and you’d have made a fortune.”

  Marjorie wrinkled her nose at the Englishman. “Well, at least we’ve figured out whom Nussbaum was meeting at noon. Although, it pretty much exonerates Saporito from being the killer.”

  “What do you mean?” Jameson quizzed. “No one can confirm Saporito arrived at the fair after the murder occurred. Likewise, we have no proof that Saporito was scheduled to meet Nussbaum at noon. He could have been the eleven o’clock appointment. Again, all we have is his word. Until we have evidence to substantiate his story, he’s still a suspect”

  “But why would he have killed Nussbaum before he got his money? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Again, there’s no proof that Saporito didn’t get his money. Nussbaum didn’t have $5,000 in cash on him when he was killed. He had a pocket full of change and nothing more. It’s easy to imagine Saporito taking his money and then killing Nussbaum to cover his tracks.”

  “Your reasoning makes sense,” Creighton allowed. “But you’re overlooking one thing. Do you really think Saporito is the type to use a poison dart? I would have fancied him the type to shoot someone with a gun or beat a fellow to death, but poison dart? Not only is it not `tough’ enough for him, but he’s not smart enough to come up with it. I own suits with higher IQs than Saporito’s.”

  Marjorie laughed out loud. “Creighton’s right. Saporito hardly seems the type to devise something as exotic as a poison dart.”

  “Exotic,” Creighton continued. “Yes, that’s the word I was looking for. A poison dart has style, sophistication. But Saporito? When he wasn’t calling Marjorie `Angel,’ he was referring to his wife as a `dame’ It took every ounce of self-control I had not to punch him right in the nose, particularly when he called Marjorie a `mouthy dame.’ Of course, he has a weight advantage and could have given me a proper pummeling, but I’m wiry when I want to be.” He executed a few boxing moves to punctuate his statement. “And, it goes without saying that I could have outsmarted him. Not that it’s saying much-after all, a sheep could outsmart Saporito. Unless Saporito ate the sheep first.”

  Marjorie laughed again, and then stopped suddenly. She had, in truth, been quite annoyed at Saporito for the “mouthy dame” comment and had also been somewhat irritated that Jameson hadn’t leapt to her defense. But Creighton had-a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed. She gazed surreptitiously at the tall man who walked beside her. Would he have fought Saporito for her? Was Robert right-did Creighton care for her? Or had all of those feelings been replaced by his love for Vanessa? And what had been Vanessa’s reply to his proposal? One thing was for certain, before the night was over, she would have to find out.

  “It’s lovely of Vanessa to invite us for dinner,” Marjorie said. “I’m glad Robert doesn’t have to work. I’d be awfully upset if we had to turn her down again.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you could have gotten away with turning her down twice in a row. Vanessa was hell bent on having you two over for dinner tonight,” Creighton answered. “Once that woman gets an idea in her head, she doesn’t take `no’ for an answer. Like another certain someone I know…”

  Jameson laughed. “You’ve got that right.”

  Marjorie, however, saw an opportunity to acquire the information she sought. “And what about you, Creighton? I don’t figure you’ve heard the word `no’ very often in your lifetime.”

  “My dear, Marjorie,” he sighed, “If it weren’t for the existence of the word `no, the most important questions I’ve ever asked in my life would have gone unanswered.”

  Vanessa wheeled herself to the front door and gave each of her guests a warm welcome. “Marjorie, dear.” She kissed Marjorie on the cheek and then embraced Detective Ja
meson. “Robert. How are you? I do hope you don’t mind me `kidnapping’ you, but when I heard you were both in town, I thought it would be a wonderful opportunity to make up for the dinner we missed.”

  She ushered them into the living room, where the housemaid offered martinis on a silver tray. Creighton passed the drinks around. “Martha makes the best martinis this side of the Mississippi,” he teased the maid, who blushed a bright crimson. “Probably the other side too, but I’ve never been there, so I can’t rightly say, can I?”

  Martha left the room, pink faced and giggling.

  “Creighton has always had a way with the ladies,” Vanessa commented. “I swear, since he’s been here, I can’t get Martha to listen to a word I say. I have to pass all my instructions through him. It was always that way-even when we were young. You always charmed the socks off of my nurses and tutors, Creighton. And then when I told them about how you teased me so, they just wouldn’t believe a word I said. I must say, I was shocked when you came here and told me you weren’t married. I thought surely someone would have captured your heart by now-or at the very least, you would have captured theirs.” Her blue eyes twinkled as she cast a brief glance in Marjorie’s direction.

  “Vanessa, dear, you know I’ve been waiting for the right woman,” Creighton replied sweetly, although his face belied his true feelings.

  Marjorie could look at neither of them as she felt her heart sink. She stared into her martini glass and wondered what she was doing here. She had hoped this evening would be fun. So far, however, it was turning out to be anything but.

  “Enough small talk. Let’s make a toast,” Mrs. Randolph declared as she raised a glass triumphantly. “To love. The one thing in the world worth living for, worth fighting for, and worth dying for.”

  The foursome clinked glasses as Jameson replied with a resounding, “Hear, hear.” They sealed the toast with a drink.