“Why didn’t you tell us sooner about this letter writing thing?” Nick asked. He reached over and placed a hand on my arm as if to steady me, but it made me nervous instead. “We could have been looking into it for you, checking for trace evidence, analyzing the letters, and . . . and . . . well . . . watching out for you.” He paused, his eyes softening. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Thank you, Nick,” I said. “I appreciate your concern. But in the beginning, I felt it would be better for me to handle it on my own. I was afraid that people in the group would go off half-cocked and make the letter writer angry, or go to the police and get them involved. And I felt like I could interpret the clues and keep the twisted little game going long enough to figure out who was behind it.” I gave him a half smile and a shrug. “Besides, I had someone looking for trace evidence in analyzing the letters for me. Duncan was doing it.”
Nick’s look of concern turned into a scowl. “Was Duncan merely looking into the evidentiary stuff for you, or are the two of you still a couple?”
“I’m not sure where Duncan and I are on a personal level right now,” I said honestly.
“Is that because of Mal? Is it serious between you two?”
I looked around to make sure no one was nearby eavesdropping. “I don’t want to discuss my personal life, Nick. I want to stay focused on this situation and make sure everyone stays safe.” I paused to check our surroundings again. “And there’s another reason why I didn’t tell the group before now. I think someone in the group may be involved.”
“Involved how?” Nick asked. His grip on my arm tightened almost imperceptibly. “Are you saying you think the second person is someone from the Capone Club?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I watched Nick as he watched me, the two of us staring at one another, gauging, studying, analyzing. The expression on his face was hard to read. He looked worried and concerned one second, and then mightily pissed off the next. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss me or shove me down the stairs. Fortunately, Sonja West came out of the Capone Club room at that point, and as she approached us, Nick finally broke eye contact with me.
“I need to get going,” he said hurriedly. Then he turned and practically ran down the stairs.
I shifted my attention to Sonja, smiling warmly as she approached. “Are you doing okay, Sonja?” I asked her. “I’m sure this situation must be stressful for all of you.”
“That’s an understatement,” she said irritably. “I’m heading home. I’ve really enjoyed the time I’ve spent here, but now I feel like it was all under a false pretense, and a dangerous one at that. I don’t know how I feel about the group now. And I’m not sure if I’ll be back.”
“I’m truly sorry, Sonja,” I said. “The group was smaller when all this started, and I really felt I had a strong enough grip on it to be able to handle things. I didn’t set out to deceive or jeopardize anyone. I hope you’ll reconsider and come back once everything is settled, but I certainly understand your feelings on the matter.” I paused to give her a chance to respond, and also to provide a bit of drama before my next comment. “It’s probably just as well anyway,” I went on, “because not only am I pretty sure there are two people behind this, I also feel certain one of them is a member of the Capone Club.”
Sonja’s eyes grew wide, and her head reared back as if she’d been slapped. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. After a moment, she snapped it shut, her lips pressed into a thin, grim line. Then, without further ado, she headed down the stairs at a fast clip.
I stood for a moment at the top of the stairs, digesting these two encounters and the differing reactions. I hadn’t picked up on any particular warning signs from either Sonja or Nick, and the things they said to me seemed genuine. The tastes of their voices hadn’t changed during our talks, but then again, I hadn’t asked either of them if they were a killer. Perhaps I should have.
With that macabre thought in my head, I headed downstairs to check in at the bar. I knew Billy had nothing to do with the letter writer, because his whereabouts at the time of both murders were well-documented. He had been working at my bar. Teddy Bear didn’t strike me as someone I needed to be concerned about, but he had made it onto the list of suspects. Given that, I decided to have a tête-à-tête with both of them.
I asked Debra to step behind the bar for a bit to cover, and then I pulled the two men aside and asked them into my office. Once inside, I gave them a brief summary of the letter writer’s history and the information I had just shared with the Capone Club, and ended with a warning to both of them to be careful.
“You can’t let your guard down, even here,” I told them. “There’s a very good chance there are two people behind this thing, and one of them might be a member of the Capone Club. I don’t know it for sure, but certain evidence points that way.”
“Who do you think it is?” Teddy Bear asked.
“I don’t know. I have some suspicions, but nothing concrete. And I don’t want to point a finger at anyone without knowing for sure.” I shot a look at Billy, who appeared troubled and a little angry. “All I can tell you right now is that you probably shouldn’t trust anyone completely.”
Billy narrowed his eyes at me, thunderclouds on his face. “Was Gary killed because of this letter writer?” he asked.
I nodded guiltily. “I’m afraid so. I didn’t interpret one of the letters correctly in time. I eventually figured it out, but on my way there, I had my accident and ended up with this.” I reached down and tapped my cast.
“So you had this letter writing thing going on, and you knew Gary died because of it, and you didn’t tell the rest of us about it?”
I squeezed my eyes closed, knowing I deserved his wrath, but hating it. “I debated long and hard about informing you,” I said, opening my eyes and forcing myself to meet his gaze. “But I felt that the fewer people involved, the better. I’ve had Duncan and Cora working on this with me, and I thought that as long as I was able to figure out the clues and keep the game going, all of you would be safe.” My eyes burned with tears I was struggling to hold back. I was prepared for recriminations from everyone once they learned the truth, but Billy’s look of utter betrayal hit me harder than I’d expected. “I’m truly sorry, Billy,” I said. My voice cracked as I spoke his name, and my welling tears spilled over. “I did what I thought was best at the time.”
Billy’s expression softened almost immediately. He looked away for a moment, sighed heavily, and then looked back at me. “It’s okay, Mack,” he said. “I get it.”
Teddy pulled at his chin, looking thoughtful. “So you think this article that appeared in the paper this morning is going to set the murderer off, right?”
I nodded, swiping at the tears tracking down my cheeks. The feel of them made me see breaking waves of water crashing over rocks.
“And you think the letter writer—or writers, as the case may be—will come after one of us?” Teddy continued.
“That’s what some of the letters said,” I told him. “Although more recently the writer threatened me personally, stating she was tiring of the game. So I may be the next victim.”
“She?” Billy said, zeroing in on this immediately.
I realized my mistake right away and cursed under my breath, wishing I could snatch the word back. The very tenacity that would make Billy an excellent trial lawyer was also about to make my life hell. I knew he wouldn’t let this go without an adequate explanation.
“We have good reasons to think Suzanne Collier might be behind it,” I said, making a decision I hoped I wouldn’t live to regret. Or die to regret.
“Suzanne Collier, as in the heir to the Collier fortune, Tad’s wife, and one of the richest women in Milwaukee?” Billy said aghast. “That Suzanne Collier?”
“One and the same.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Teddy Bear said.
I shot him a questioning look.
“There are
plenty of rumors about Suzanne and her level of stability, or lack thereof,” he explained. “She’s caused scenes at any number of events, but typically someone in her family, usually her husband or her father, either calms her down or whisks her away before things get too bad. There have been stories about things she has said and done in smaller groups, too. She’s known for having a quick-fire temper, for being insanely jealous about Tad, and for frequently getting paranoid that people are out to get her or steal her money. Her ego is huge, and she’s constantly trying to prove how much smarter she is than anyone else. She also has a very long memory, and if she feels you’ve ever done her wrong in any way, watch out. She’s destroyed more than a few people.”
“Destroyed how?” I asked.
“Several ways,” Teddy Bear said. “She’s put companies out of business by starting untrue rumors about their business practices or the unsavory lifestyle choices of the owners; she’s used her financial control to bankrupt companies and people; and she’s used her powerful influence to blacklist anyone she doesn’t like. All that money gives her a lot of power in this city.”
“So all we have to do is avoid Suzanne?” Billy said.
“Not exactly,” I told them. “If, indeed, Suzanne is the primary person behind it, she isn’t working alone. We know for a fact that she didn’t kill Lewis Carmichael, at least not with her own hands. That’s not to say she didn’t have something to do with it, just that she was somewhere else with an ironclad alibi and pictures in the paper at the time of Lewis’s death. That means someone else is working with her. She has the money to hire anyone she wants, but because of certain things that have been said and done, I think whoever is helping her is someone close to me, like the members of the Capone Club.”
“Or an employee?” Teddy suggested.
Billy shot him a look and then turned back to me. “Is he right? Are we all suspects?”
I shook my head and smiled reassuringly. “I’ve ruled out most of you based on the times of both deaths. I know you have nothing to do with it, Billy, because you were here working on both occasions. Though to be honest, I didn’t need an alibi to know you couldn’t have been involved.”
Teddy sucked in his lower lip and stroked his beard. “I’m guessing I’m on the suspect list then?” he said.
I gave him a grim, but apologetic smile. “Can you give me an alibi for the time when Lewis Carmichael was killed?”
He shrugged. “When was it?”
I told him, and he spent several seconds tugging harder on his beard than he tugged at his memory. “I got nothing,” he said finally. “I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast today, much less something that happened weeks ago.”
Billy said, “Just ask him, Mack. Do your lie detector thing.”
Teddy shot me a questioning look.
“You haven’t told him about me?” I said to Billy.
“I told him some basics, that your senses are more heightened than most, but that was it. I didn’t tell him that you’re a human lie detector.”
Now it was my turn to give Teddy a questioning look.
He held his hands out to his sides, palms up. “What do I have to do?”
It was interesting that these two were the first people to suggest this to me. When Mal and Cora and I discussed our plan, we guessed that the majority of the people would first ask if they were a suspect, and then ask to have me question them as a way of eliminating that suspicion. Teddy wouldn’t have if Billy hadn’t clued him in since he didn’t know about this particular ability of mine, but at least he had asked if he was a suspect. That alone put him much lower on the list in my opinion. Innocent people were eager to try to clear their names. Guilty people weren’t, because they couldn’t. Neither Nick nor Sonja had asked the key questions.
Still, since I hadn’t done any groundwork with Teddy, I couldn’t be sure this would even work. In order to tell if someone is lying, it helps if I have a “test” lie—similar to what I had done with Holland and Dixon—to base things on. After thinking for a moment, I told Teddy to tell me three things—obscure things—two of which were true and one of which was a lie.
He thought for a moment, and then said, “Okay. One, my favorite artist is Da Vinci. Two, I stole a car once. Three, I have a terrible case of claustrophobia.” He licked his lips in anticipation and then grinned at me, eyebrows raised.
“We definitely won’t lock you in the pantry,” I said. “And I’m eager to hear about this car you stole. Who is your favorite artist?”
Teddy’s eyes grew huge. He stared at me slack-jawed for a moment, before finally shutting his mouth and shaking off his amazement. “Wow! That’s some trick you have there.”
“You really stole a car?” Billy said.
He nodded.
“How come I didn’t come across that on your background check?” I asked him. Had Cora missed something?
“I was twelve,” he said. “And I did it on a dare. I have a juvie record, but it’s locked. I swear I’ve been a good boy ever since.”
“So who is your favorite artist?” I asked.
“Monet, hands down,” he said.
“And have you ever killed anyone?” I asked quickly.
“No,” he shot back just as quickly, looking me straight in the eye. And then, just to add some icing to this piece of cake, he added, “I’ve never killed anyone or helped anyone else kill anyone.”
I let a few seconds tick by. “Okay. I believe you,” I said. “Now you’re both in the clear.”
“Then let’s get back to the discussion at hand,” Billy said. “If Suzanne Collier is behind this, what’s her motive?”
I opened my mouth to answer, to explain that we felt her desire to keep Tad away from me and the bar was behind it, but Teddy beat me to it.
“I don’t think that woman needs much of a motive,” he said. “Based on the rumors I’ve heard, all you have to do is look at her cross-eyed. And if you look at Tad at all, she gets insanely jealous.”
Billy, true to his lawyerly training, wanted more answers. “What evidence do you have against Suzanne? And do you think Tad is involved?”
I bit my lip, hesitant to get into the details. “The evidence so far is all circumstantial, but there is a lot of it,” I told him. “There are enough coincidences to make me think they aren’t coincidences, if you get my drift. And we know Tad didn’t kill Lewis because he was here in the bar when it happened. Does he know about what Suzanne is doing, assuming we’re right about her?” I asked rhetorically with a shrug. “We don’t really know. But my gut says he does not.”
“Well, if you’re right about Suzanne, you have your work cut out for you,” Billy said. With a sideways nod of his head, he added, “Like Teddy Bear here said, that woman has a lot of power in this town, and it won’t be easy to bring her down.”
“I know,” I said with a heavy sigh. “That’s why I’m continuing to play the game for now, with the hope that at some point she’ll slip up and give us some real evidence. Perhaps we can find out who she’s working with and get that person to turn on her.”
Billy looked like he had more questions, and I had no doubt he could sit and discuss this issue with me for hours if I let him. So I glanced at my watch and said, “You guys best get back to work. It’s pretty busy, and I don’t think Debra can man the bar and wait on tables for very long.”
Billy gave me a frustrated look, but he didn’t argue.
“I’m trusting the two of you not to breathe a word of this to anyone else. No one.” Both men nodded. “Give me your word,” I pushed, and then one at a time they each did, with no hint of deception in their voices. I knew it wasn’t a guarantee of anything more than their genuine intent to keep the promise, but they were both levelheaded and reliable men otherwise, so I felt the odds were good that they would hold true to their pledges. “Thanks, guys. Now go back to work, and send Debra in here, okay?”
They did what I asked, and when Debra came into the office, her eyes were wid
e with curiosity.
“What the heck is going on?” she asked. “Everyone is acting weird, the Capone Club people look like they just saw a ghost, and everyone is whispering back and forth.”
I had her sit down and then filled her in on the saga of the letter writer. She listened without interruption, and when I was done, rather than looking spooked as I expected, she looked relieved.
“Any questions for me?” I asked her, worried that she hadn’t grasped the gist of my message.
“Nope,” she said. “I’m just happy to know I’m not getting fired.”
“Fired? Why would I fire you?”
“No reason that I knew of, but you’ve been acting so squirrelly lately, I knew something was up. I thought maybe I was in trouble.”
“Not at all. In fact, you and Billy are my two most trusted and valuable employees.”
“Okay then,” she said, wiping her hands along her thighs. “Anything I can do to help you with this letter writer idiot?”
I smiled at her. “No. I’m working on it with the help of Duncan and the cops in the Capone Club. Just make sure you stay safe. From now on, I don’t want any of you leaving here alone at night. Make sure you have someone with you. Okay?”
“Okay.” There was a moment of silence, and then she said, “Is that it? Can I go back to work?”
Her reaction, or rather the lack of one, was a little disturbing. But then, based on some of the things she’d had to deal with as the mother of two teenaged sons, I supposed a serial killer was small potatoes.
“Yes, you can go back to work. But please don’t discuss this with anyone. I’ve told Billy and Teddy, but I haven’t spoken to Jon, Rich, Curtis, Linda, or Pete. I plan to tell all of them by morning, and the only person I’m not sure about with regard to an alibi when it comes to Lewis’s death is Linda.”
“Linda?” Debra said, looking skeptical. “I can’t see her killing a fly. She’s so meek and . . . well, mousy, for lack of a better term.”
A Toast to Murder Page 17