by M. Z. Kelly
I decided that I’d have to interview the snoring BM later. I had Mags follow me into the office where she sat on an overstuffed flower-print sofa while I pulled over a chair from the desk. After a little small talk, during which Mags broke down crying, we got down to business.
“Let’s talk about anyone who might have wanted to harm either Michael or China,” I said. “Did either of them have any enemies?”
Mags folded her arms across her body, brushed her tears with a tissue. “Just each other.” I raised my brows as she explained. “China and Michael had what you could call a stormy relationship. Michael, as you may have heard, had a lot of interests, including other women.” Her blue eyes started to tear up again. “I don’t understand your question. One of the uniformed officers told me that it looked like…” she turned away, dabbing her eyes, “a murder-suicide.”
“The cause of death is still under investigation. We’re just covering all the angles.” She blew her nose before I continued. “I heard that Michael and Melanie Grace, his marketing manager, were involved.”
“They had a thing a few months back. China found out about it and broke off the engagement. She took Michael back a few weeks later after he promised it wouldn’t happen again. He was lying.” China’s sister shook her head. It struck me again that she and China looked nothing alike.
“So, there was someone else he was cheating with?”
“Not someone, lots of someones. Michael was very handsome. He was also a wealthy, brilliant inventor. He had several businesses that made a fortune. As you probably know, power and wealth are an aphrodisiac for many women.”
“I know about the G-Stim. What were some of his other inventions?”
“From what I understand, there were dozens. In recent years, Michael’s primary interests involved developing and marketing software for social media companies.”
“Is that where Melanie came in?”
“Yes, she did the marketing for his products. She helped make Michael very rich. But if you’re thinking she was somehow involved in what happened tonight, I think you’re on the wrong track. Melanie had moved on from Michael. She hooked up with a guy who has lots of money, and I think that money, especially lots of it, interests her more than sex.”
“What about Michael’s business partners? Was he having any conflicts or disagreements with anyone?”
Mags laughed. “There isn’t anyone Michael wasn’t in conflict with. Michael disagreed with almost everyone about how to develop and market his products. He even had some conflicts with his business manager, Hank Stanley. But I don’t think it was anything that would lead him to want to harm Michael. Stanley’s not the type, anyway.”
Mags seemed genuine and sincere, nothing like what I’d seen in her mother, from my brief encounter. “Let’s talk about, China,” I said. “She had an interesting name.”
After the mention of her sister, Mags took a moment to compose herself.
“China and I were half-sisters. She was four years older than me. Her father was part Asian. I was told that had something to do with why they chose her name. Her father died when she was a little girl and then Mother remarried.”
“And your father raised you both?”
“Heavens no. Mom divorced my father after a couple of years. He wasn’t involved in China’s life, or mine for that matter. I haven’t seen him in years.”
I made some notes about what she’d said and then moved on, asking about China’s business associates and relationships.
“China was very driven to succeed,” Mags said. “But in a professional way. She was doing well on Hollywood Daybreak and there was talk about her becoming a co-host with Holly Sawyer.”
“Any problems between the two women?”
Mags shrugged. “She and Holly had their differences about the direction of the show, that sort of thing, but I don’t think it was anything major.”
“I met China’s business agent, Marvin Chauncey.” I paused, searching for the right words to describe him. “He seemed rather…arrogant.”
“He’s a pretentious asshole. I never liked him, but China seemed to think he had her best career interests at heart.” She shrugged. “Go figure.”
“What about China’s past relationships? Was there anyone who might have been jealous of her and Michael’s relationship?”
Mags shook her head. “No one that comes to mind. China had some boyfriends in the past, but Michael was…” She sighed. “They seemed fated to be together, despite everything.”
I thanked Mags, took her contact information, and then met up with Natalie and Mo in the living room. I asked them to try to locate the wedding planner, Marley Jenks, for me to interview before I took Hank Stanley, Michael Clinton’s personal accountant, into the office.
Stanley seemed to be your typical numbers guy. Bookish. Plain. A round face, receding hairline. He explained his role in Michael Clinton’s business affairs. “I spent most of my time pushing paper, doing cost analysis for Michael’s projects.”
“Did Michael have any rivals or competitors who might have had an interest in seeing him fail?”
Stanley shrugged and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Don’t really know. His interests were widespread. I’m sure he had his detractors.” He leaned forward. “Pardon me for asking, but do you suspect some sort of foul play in what happened tonight?”
“It’s really too soon to know. We’re just gathering information.”
“Oh my. I hadn’t even considered that someone might have wanted to harm Michael and China. I’d heard they probably had some sort of argument and it was…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
Mags had been right, Stanley did seem harmless, but I knew that sometimes violence and hatred can hide in plain sight. “I understand that you and Michael had some sort of falling out; disagreements over business interests.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“I’m asking the questions. Tell me about your relationship with Michael.”
Stanley shrugged again, maybe out of habit. “Michael was a venture capitalist. He put millions of dollars into his products, partnering with others and occasionally overextending himself. China was concerned about that and came to see me a few times about it. She told me that she and Michael were going to marry and start a family someday. She wanted to protect their future together.
“I was basically a numbers cruncher, but I went to Michael and talked to him a couple of times about his debt. We had some, what you might call, vigorous discussions about his finances, but, in the end, it was Michael’s money. That trumped everything. I understood that.”
I told Stanley he was free to go and that I’d contact him if we had any further questions.
Natalie and Mo had located the wedding planner, Marley Jenks, but Lieutenant Edna called me over before I could talk to her. I excused myself and told Jenks that I’d be with her shortly.
“The fucking press is out front, wanting a statement,” Edna said. “Don’t you know that reporter, Dristan?”
“You probably mean, Haley Tristan,” I said, correcting him.
I’d reluctantly been interviewed by the reporter concerning my last case after it was solved only to cut a deal. Tristan’s aide, Cher, was having sex with another detective to gather information about the crimes and they had set me up to take the fall as a leak. Tristan admitted what happened in exchange for the interview and I was exonerated about talking to the press. The article concerning a cult of female killers had run under the sensational headline, Sisters of the Blood. It had unfortunately been picked up by all the national news services, making Bernie and me temporary, but reluctant celebrities.
Lieutenant Edna said, “Do you think maybe…”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I’ve done my time with reporters. I’ll stand beside you if you want to make a statement, but that’s all.”
“Fuck. Okay, let’s get this over with.”
We found, not only Haley Tristan and her eye-catching aide, Ch
er Wentworth, at the barricades set up in the street, but also dozens of other reporters. The neighborhood was a madhouse of reporters, paparazzi, satellite vans, and sightseers.
“Detective Sexton, can you tell us what happened here tonight?” Haley Tristan said, sticking a microphone in my face.
“Lieutenant Edna will make a statement,” I said.
Edna gave a concise overview of what had happened, leaving out any information about how the couple had died. Despite Tristan and the throng of other reporters’ repeated attempts to pump him for details, the lieutenant did a good job of giving them only the bare minimum.
When he was finished, Tristan said to him, “Can you please give us your full name for the record.”
“Lieutenant Henry Edna.”
As we were leaving the gathering, behind us we heard Haley Tristan go live with the beginning of her broadcast. “We’ve just talked to the detective in charge of this investigation, a Lieutenant Henrietta…”
When we were clear of the press line, my boss went ballistic. “That fucking reporter just called me fucking Lieutenant Henrietta on live TV. I’ll never hear the end of this. I’ll be Henrietta for the rest of my fucking career.”
CHAPTER NINE
After we finished with the press, I huddled with Pearl and Edna for a few moments. The lieutenant was still fuming about the Henrietta moniker. I understood why he was upset. If cops know one thing, it’s how to exploit a weakness. I had no doubt that my fellow officers would soon find a way to make the lieutenant’s life miserable.
I gave my colleagues a brief overview of my interviews. I then learned that they’d talked to some family members on both sides, a couple of Michael Clinton’s business associates, including the vice president of his business operations, Alan Bainbridge, and his lawyer, Matt Holliday, as well as China’s agent, Marvin Chauncey.
Edna and I agreed that Chauncey was an egotistical jerk, but none of the interviews had turned up much that was worthwhile. I asked if Melanie Grace had been interviewed and learned from Pearl that he’d gotten a guest list and the marketing manager was not on it. That didn’t surprise me, given what Mags had told me. I made a mental note to track down Grace for an interview later.
Since it was getting late, we agreed to finish our interviews and call it a night. We planned to concentrate on those individuals who were closest to the murdered couple that had not yet been interviewed and then follow up with any remaining interviews the next day. I was assigned to interview the wedding planner, Marley Jenks, and Michael Clinton’s father, Harry.
I ran into Natalie and Mo in the hallway before heading into the office to meet with Jenks.
“Just so you know, we’re going to be doing a little snoop’n,” Natalie said.
“As in finding the killer,” Mo added.
Nothing they said surprised me, given their history. “You two can’t be interfering. This is officially a police investigation.”
“Mo and me will lie as low as a toad in a hole,” Natalie assured me. “We just wanna be sure the toss-pot who killed China gets the needle.”
“We already think we know the motive,” Mo added, yawning.
I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose, feeling the throb of a tension headache surfacing. “I’m listening.”
“Anger and jealousy are behind everythin’,” Natalie said. “Somebody got a carnival ride on big Mr. Johnson and the twins, and they didn’t want China on the Jolly Jumper. When Michael tried to fight back, they also whacked him.”
“Okay, so any idea who was at the carnival?”
“Got us a list of over twenty suspects,” Mo said. “According to our sources, Mr. Johnson was a very popular ride.”
After a stern lecture about them staying out of the investigation, which I was sure made about the same impression as pig shit at a carnival, I took Bernie from the uniform he’d been with and met up with Marley Jenks in the office.
Bernie settled in next to the sofa before I spent almost an hour with the wedding planner. In between Marley’s emotional outbursts and inconsolable bouts of crying, I learned that she had known China since the eighth grade. They’d remained friends through college and were even roommates for a period of time.
Marley, a rather plain young woman who seemed to have been a kind and compassionate friend to China, had learned to put up with Linda Warner’s constant interfering in her daughter’s life, including much of the wedding planning. Marley told me that two weeks before the wedding, China’s mother had fired the caterer without telling her and hired another company.
Marley also told me what I’d pretty much already known about Michael, that he was a cheater who’d gotten together with Melanie Grace a few months before the wedding. She had no doubt that, after the Grace affair, Michael had continued to cheat on China. Marley promised to get me a list of women that she thought had hooked up with Michael.
I was about to excuse Marley when a final question came to mind. “Was China having any problems or difficulties with anyone or anything in the weeks before the wedding?”
“You mean other than Michael?” I nodded. Marley slowly returned the gesture. “Yes, but I’m not sure what upset her. A couple of weeks ago we had lunch to discuss the final details for the wedding. China’s face was red and puffy. It was obvious that she’d been crying.”
“Did you ask her what was wrong?”
“Yes, but she wouldn’t say, other than that someone from her past had shown up and was causing her problems.”
“Someone, as in a man?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. China was very driven about her career, so I don’t think she had a lot of boyfriends before Michael. I’m really at a loss to know who or what was bothering her.”
It was after midnight by the time I finished with Marley Jenks. I briefly talked to Mags again, who confirmed what Marley had said about China being upset shortly before the wedding. Mags was also unsure what had caused her sister’s unhappiness, other than to speculate that maybe Michael was cheating on her again.
I then located Harry Clinton and brought him into the office. Michael’s father looked to be in his mid-fifties with brown hair fading to silver. He had inquisitive, pale blue eyes. Despite the lateness of the hour and general unhappiness of many of the guests, I found him to be pleasant and cooperative.
“We’re still gathering information, so at this time I really can’t give you any details about what happened tonight,” I began.
“I understand completely,” Harry Clinton said, brushing a tear. His eyes were red. I had the impression he’d been crying on and off all evening.
“Let’s talk about your son, Michael, for a moment…”
“Just to be clear, Detective, Michael was actually my stepson. His biological father died when he was seven. When I married his mother, I adopted and helped raise him. His mother died of breast cancer a few years ago.” He sighed. “I’m just glad she’s not here to know about what happened.”
“I understand.” For some reason I thought about my own father, how he hadn’t been there to walk me down the aisle when I got married. All things considered, given how my marriage ended, maybe it was better that he wasn’t around to see me living in virtual poverty with my crazy roommates. I continued, “How close was your relationship to Michael in recent years?”
“It was a bit strained, to tell the truth. Michael was…let’s just say that my son was, as you’ve probably already learned, extremely brilliant and driven to succeed. He didn’t have time for…I guess you could say he was a workaholic and we didn’t see a lot of each other in recent months.” His gaze drifted off. “I regret that now. Maybe I should have tried harder to stay in touch.”
It was late and, under other circumstances, I probably would have taken more time with Michael’s father, sympathizing with him about his loss, but my headache was getting worse. I decided to get right to the point.
“Did Michael have any enemies that you know of, or maybe business competitors who
might have wanted to harm him?”
He hesitated. “I’m sorry…I guess I wasn’t expecting your question. Do you think foul play was somehow involved in what happened?”
“As I said before, we’re just gathering information, covering all the options.”
“I understand.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair. He was wearing a tuxedo, but had lost the bowtie sometime earlier in the evening. “Michael had lots of people who disagreed with him. It was mainly over business issues, the development of his products.” He paused again before finally saying, “There was a competitor who had business interests similar to Michael’s. Actually he’s the CEO of Grapevine.”
“Steven Drummond?”
I knew of Drummond because of the press coverage he’d received about his company and their many products. Grapevine was located in the Silicon Valley and Drummond was a well-known, very wealthy entrepreneur.
“Yes,” he said. “Steven worked for Michael early in his career and they had a falling out. I guess it was no surprise. Two brilliant, ego-driven men. It was bound to eventually happen.”
“Do you think Drummond might have wanted to harm Michael?”
He shook his head. “I can’t say. If he did, Michael never said anything to me about any threats. They were just competitors in the same field who were very driven to succeed.”
“Is there anyone you can think of who might have been angry or upset with Michael recently?” I asked. “That includes women.”
“That’s a loaded question.” He pressed his lips together, his gaze drifting away. “I’m sure the others have told you about Michael’s interest in women. He was involved with his former marketing manager, but I think that was history. I can’t think of anyone in particular who might have wanted to harm him.” Clinton’s pale eyes found me again. “I do know that he was the luckiest man on earth when he found China.” He brushed a tear. “She was a wonderful woman who only had Michael’s best interest at heart. It’s a terrible shame.” Michael’s father then brought a hand up to his face and wept openly.