'Thank you Murray,' I said. I released my grip on his hand as I stood on the sidewalk and offered him a reassuring smile.
I was treated like a queen and had a scrumptious meal of Fettuccine con il pomodoro, spinaci, basilico, e Brie Ricetta with mineral water. I felt sated and replenished and much more myself.
'What an absolutely delightful man and such a delicious meal,' I said to Murray, as I got into the car.
'Carl is pleased that you had a successful morning,' he replied.
'That's good. I'm glad to hear it.' I smiled.
Murray drove back to the hotel and it gave me a few minutes to relax and think.
The building location was superb and more than adequate for all that I had in mind. Access was well catered for, as was the frontage with its enormous mirrored glass windows that were suitably tinted a deep golden color. This was it. This is where my new life would start. I felt elated at the prospect. I had already drawn up a check-list of the things that I would need and now hit a sticking point.
Staff. My stomach contorted as I thought about engaging the right people but, given the speed and simplicity I had so far encountered, the right staff would find me, I was sure of it.
My life now had a purpose, a goal that I could achieve and, with the right guidance, it could easily become a success. My fingers were already itching to write imaginative self-help books that people could buy or receive as a complimentary offering with their first session at the Foundation. I had so many things buzzing around my head that I failed to notice that we had arrived back at the hotel. Murray was already out of the car and had opened the door for me to get out.
'Thank you Murray,' I said. 'You are, without doubt, the perfect gentleman.'
'My pleasure, Ms. Deveraux,' he said as he walked forward to open the hotel door.
I walked into the busy lobby unaware that two rather unsavory characters were monitoring my entrance. I jumped when one of them touched my arm and thrust a police badge in front of my face.
'Are you Ms. Deveraux? Ms. Louise Deveraux?' he asked.
'Yes. Why? What seems to be the problem?' I asked. I removed my elbow from the man's hand, knowing full well that I had not broken any laws while staying in New York or, in fact, at any time in my life.
'I'm Detective Bristow, this is Detective Neaser,' he said.
'We need you to accompany us back to headquarters,' Detective Neaser said.
'Now hang on a moment,' I replied. I was prepared to stand my ground and removed my arm from his grasp. 'Why would I do that?' I asked.
'We need to speak to you about your husband's death,' he said as he motioned me toward the entrance.
'Can't we do that here?'
'No,' Bristow said. 'His death may not have been an accident. Let's just say that, for now, you're helping with our inquiries.'
I caught sight of Rota as the two men escorted me out of the hotel. She placed a finger to her lips and walked by me as if we were complete strangers. A grubby looking car was parked at the curb and I was coerced into the back seat.
Slammer
The smell of urine, vomit and industrial cleaner assaulted my senses as we entered the station. An assortment of life presented around every corner and in every corridor. A cacophony of noise made it nearly impossible to hear any one conversation.
Neaser opened the door to an interrogation room. 'Take a seat,'he said. I sat in a rather uncomfortable metal chair. 'So, Ms. Deveraux... What brings you here to New York City?' he asked. He pushed a toothpick between his teeth and waited for my answer. Bristow lit a cigarette and drummed the table with his fingers.
'What is this about my husband?' I asked.
'Ms. Deveraux, we had to get you here without revealing the reason in the hotel lobby. We know you witnessed a murder two days ago,' Neaser said.
'What? A murder? Here in New York City?' I replied. 'I came to sort out my affairs with my publishing agent. Is that a crime as well?' I asked.
'So, how is it, if you came here to sort out your affairs, that you are now in the company of Carlos Carbinicci?' Bristow asked, blowing a plume of smoke toward me.
'Excuse me,' I said. I held a hand to my face. 'I hardly know Carlos Carbinicci and would you kindly not blow smoke in my face.' I cast him a stern look that seemed to catch him completely off-guard. 'Have you no manners?'
'Do you normally socialize with mobsters, or are you researching another of your books?' Bristow leaned forward to extinguish his cigarette on the side of an aluminum ashtray.
'As I've just told you, I'm here to see my publishers,' I replied. I crossed my arms and looked around the room. My reflection in the mirrored window set into the wall reminded me of the gravity of the situation in which I now found myself.
'Are you now telling us that Carbinicci is acting as your publisher. That you've now turned to the mob to sell your books, is that right?' Neaser asked. He open a thick file that resembled a manuscript and thumbed through the pages until he came across photographs of an auto wreck.
'So, tell me, do you recognize this vehicle?' He turned the picture around to face me and slid it across the table so it was directly in my line of sight.
'It's obviously a car, a silver metallic one,' I said.
'What about this one?' he asked. He slid another photo toward me from across the table. 'Recognize the plate?'
'I'm not sure, should I?'
'What about this person?' He placed a photo of the victim in front of me. I could feel him look at my expression from across the other side of the desk. I'm sure he knew what my response would be.
'Oh my God!' I picked up the photo to take a closer look. 'This is my husband,' I said. My hands started to tremble and my fingers traced the image of his head. 'Why are you showing me this?' I asked. I couldn't bear to look at the two of them. Tears streamed from my eyes and ran down my cheeks and I was choked for words.
'Take a closer look, Louise,' Bristow said. 'Your husband was killed on the orders of Carlos Carbinicci, the same man we know you saw last night.' There was no sympathy in his tone.
'No, there must be some mistake,' I replied. 'My husband died as a result of a tragic accident, nothing more than that.' A box of tissues was pushed in my direction. 'Jim would have told me if he'd been murdered,' I said.
'And Jim is?' Bristow asked.
'Jim Barrowman, our local sheriff,' I replied.
'Well, that may be so, had he been shot or if there were maybe obvious signs of foul play,' he said. 'As it was, the county coroner found nothing suspicious, at least according to his report.'
'There you go then. It must have been an accident,' I said.
'You're wrong about that,' Neaser argued. 'We know for a fact that Carbinicci had your husband killed. We have it on tape. Everything. The where, the when, and the how,' he said. 'We know, without a shadow of doubt, that's what really happened.'
'Has he threatened to kill you or harm you in some way? Is that what happened when you met him last night?' Bristow asked.
My head was reeling. I knew they needed a response. My trembling fingers traced the outline of my beloved husband, his body slumped forward against the steering wheel, his head covered in blood.
'How did he really die?' I asked. I had hoped that his accident wasn't real and I would see him alive again. They had taken away my hope.
'You don't really want to know,' Bristow said.
'We can help you, move you into protective custody, away from Carbinicci,' Neaser said. He look at his partner for reassurance.
'No! Not that!' I wiped away the tears from my face.
'Has he threatened any of your family, is that the reason why you're so unwilling to tell us anything?' he asked.
'Why will you not let us protect you?' Bristow asked.
I stared blankly at the mass of photographs in their possession. 'And who will protect you?' I whispered. I looked up from the photos at the two of them. 'You just don't get it, do you?' I asked.
'Oh we know what Carbinicci is capable of,' Neaser
said. 'They won't just stop with your husband, not now.'
'No, you're right. They won't,' I said. I looked directly at Bristow. 'Do you have any children?' I asked.
'Two. I have two children, one of each. Why do you ask?'
'How far would you go to protect them, to keep them from harm?' I asked. His expression gave him away. 'Precisely!' I yelled. 'I would shoot him dead, no questions asked, if he so much as lifted a finger to harm my children.' I held his gaze to prove my intent and unswerving devotion.
'Do you carry a weapon?' Bristow asked.
'No, not here, but we do keep a stock of rifles back home,' I said. I felt sure that if they had photos of my dead husband then they probably had copies of the firearms certificates we held at the house.
'And that's in Gilford, New Hampshire?' he asked.
I nodded. I knew what he was intimating.
'Have you ever had to shoot someone in self-defense,' he asked. He walked around the table to flick through the photographs. He paused at one and turned it around so I could see the picture of a dead woman with a head wound lying in a pool of blood.
'I know how to handle a weapon,' I said. I pushed the picture back across the table in disgust.
'You saw Carbinicci push someone from the top of the Glaser Building the day after you arrived in New York, didn't you?' Neaser asked.
'No. Not Carlos, it was one of the others,' I said.
'Was this the man you saw?' he asked, showing me a head shot of the man I'd seen on the roof.
I nodded and turned my head away from the picture. My hands trembled as I replayed the scene in my head. The unconscious victim slammed into the sidewalk after being rolled off the ledge.
'The man you saw is Enrique Cordele or 'The Columbian' as he's called. He is one of Carbinicci's enforcers,' Neaser revealed. 'He is someone who takes great pleasure in killing women. He is known for taking his time, when he is allowed to, and mutilating them,' he said. He placed a line of photographs across the table of the many women he was accused of butchering.
'We need your help, Louise,' Bristow said. 'We need to put an end to his vile rein of terror once and for all. You can help us do just that.'
'No. I cannot help you just as you cannot help me,' I replied.
'At least let us try,' Bristow said. 'What is it that we have to do to convince you that you'll be safe?'
'There's nothing that you can do,' I said.
Bristow rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. 'You do realize that we could put you in protective custody, for your own safety,' he said, angered at my refusal to help.
'No, this is something that I have to do alone. I won't be breaking any laws, I promise,' I said.
'Are you sure? Are you quite sure, that we cannot influence your decision in any way?' Bristow asked.
'Yes,' I replied.
'Is there anything we can do to help keep you safe?' Neaser asked.
'You can get me a gun,' I said.
'You know we can't do that,' Bristow replied. 'We would get the book thrown at us if we even suggested it, let alone sent you away with a loaded weapon.'
'Well, I'm sure that if there was some way that you could arrest and charge these men, then you would have done so already for killing my husband and all these women,' I said. 'After all, you said you had the evidence right there before you.' I gestured to the file and the photographs.
'It's not as simple as that,' Bristow said. He collected the papers together and tapped them down to settle into the file.
'No. Neither is the safety of my children, my grandchildren, or me,' I said. 'The only person who could properly protect me and my children was Jon. Since he can no longer do that for me, then I will have to do it myself.'
'You are taking on way more than you could possibly imagine,' Neaser said. He laughed at my suggestion.
'Don't be fooled by my looks,' I said. 'I grew up on a farm and learned how to shoot and butcher animals while I was still knee-high to a grasshopper. One more animal won't make a difference. And you want to protect me?' I asked. 'I don't think so.'
'Then we cannot help you,' Bristow said.
'That was evident from the get go,' I replied.
The two stood to one side. They needed to figure out their next move.
A tap on the glass in the door interrupted proceedings. 'Good afternoon, detectives. Ms. Deveraux,' a well-suited man entered the interrogation room and placed his attaché case on the table.
'And you are?' Neaser asked.
'I'm the attorney appointed to look after Miss Deveraux's affairs. It's my understanding that my client hasn't broken any laws, so we will take this opportunity to leave,' he said. He smiled broadly and gestured that I stand and leave with him. 'This interview is over,' he said. 'My client has answered your questions. If you bother her again, we'll sue the department for harassment,' he replied. He touched my elbow and guided me toward the door.
It was a threat Bristow and Neaser refused to challenge. I was led out of the building, down the precinct steps and toward a waiting car.
'Where are you taking me?' I asked the attorney.
'Taking you? I'm not taking you anywhere,' he replied. 'My instructions are to return you back to your hotel.' He opened the car door so I could sit inside and instructed his driver to head back to the hotel. 'Please accept my apologies. I didn't intend to arrive so late. I'll make doubly sure those detectives don't bother you again,' he said. He closed the car door and stepped back as the car pulled away.
Roller Coaster
The whole episode in the police station ruined my day and a dull ache hammered my temples. I was dazed.
'Louise,' Rota said. She was waiting to greet me. 'I didn't want to antagonize the situation by getting involved. I thought it best to simply call Carl and let him know what had occurred and, as it seems, he soon had you sprung,' she said. She couldn't contain a little laugh.
'Oh don't,' I said. 'That awful place stank to high heaven and the noise...'
'Oh you poor thing,' Rota said. She led me to one of the lobby couches to sit.
'I have the makings of a headache,' I said. 'Do you think I could get some water?'
'I'll go and find someone. I won't be a moment,' she said. She hurried off toward the restaurant and it wasn't long before she was back, waiter in tow, carrying a jug of water and a couple of glasses.
'Thank you,' I said.
'We'll get rid of that headache before it starts,' Rota said. 'I've spoken to Carl and he is most insistent that you get a bit of pampering today. So, there's a masseuse waiting to give you an Indian head massage and then, perhaps a shower and a change of clothes. We are going to dinner and the opera tonight and we will need to be ready by seven thirty. A couple of very nice gentlemen will escort us this evening and, by the time the evening is over, you will have forgotten all about that appalling episode. In any case, Dominic has the most adorable eyes and your date, Royce, is a most handsome fellow.'
'Rota, it sounds delightful,' I said. 'Now where is this masseuse?'
'To the spa we go,' Rota said. She stood up and took my hand to encourage me to my feet. 'Come, Louise. Mohini awaits.'
We had to wait twenty minutes for Mohini. It was quite pleasurable and soothing. Samosas, vade and masal chai not only soothed our senses but calmed my stomach. The massage was heaven. I was floating and so relaxed as I returned to my room for a hot shower. Juanita was waiting when I emerged to help me dress for dinner and the theater. I packed a handbag to take. Tissues, lipstick and breath mints were put into the bag and I was ready.
'Better?' Rota asked.
I closed my door and walked over to where she sat. 'Remarkably so,' I said.
'Good. You look beautiful.' Rota smiled and patted the seat next to her on the divan. 'Come, sit and relax. Reception will let us know when Murray arrives.'
'Thank you, but I need to move,' I said. I paced back and forth in front of her.
'You realize that pacing won't help,' Rota said. 'Come, sit and r
elax. Let's talk about it.'
'You are right,'I replied. 'It was totally unexpected.'
'Yes, I'm sure it was. What did they want?'
'I had to identify some things regarding my husband's accident, personal things.'
'I'm sure that was difficult. How in the world did they know where you were staying?' Rota asked.
'Yes, it was. But, to answer your question, I'd told my sister where I was staying. She obviously told Jim, our local sheriff, and he must have told the detectives.'
'So why here, why now?'
'I guess they wanted to get that file closed,' I said. Every word of our conversation would be heard by Carlos. I was sure Rota was staying with me to inform him of everything.
'Well, it's over now,' Rota said. 'You can put all of that ugly episode behind you and enjoy the rest of the evening. Murray should be here...'
The phone rang, interrupting Rota in mid-sentence.
'Hello?'
'There is a car waiting for Ms. Deveraux and Ms. Deale,' the conceirge said.
'Thank you. We'll be right down.' I glanced at Rota to let her know and she was already on her feet. We gathered our wraps and headed out for the evening.
As we stepped into the car, I noticed a commotion across the street. Two men were manhandled from one car into the rear of another. I immediately recognized one as Bristow, one of the detectives who had questioned me earlier. It seemed odd that he, and his partner, were now riding in the back of a car, until I saw what I thought was a gun being pointed at them. Maybe I was wrong. I merely shrugged off the incident. After all, it was none of my business.
The evening was exquisite. Dinner at Le Bonado was followed by a trip to the Met for the premier of 'Cai Wenji.' It was a beautiful tale of a woman finding her way home. I was moved beyond tears.
Our escorts were delightful company. Dominic did have beautiful eyes and he made certain that his eyes were only for Rota. Reuben stood in for Royce who had an acute case of the flu. He was witty and charming and spontaneous and reminded me of someone. He slipped a calling card in my bag and said it was for me, should I ever find myself in need of a friend.
Witness to a Murder Page 4