by Ann Mullen
Even though I didn’t want to upset Mom, I knew I had to tell her the truth. “Claire and I found a body in the wine cellar. As soon as we went into the house, we smelled a terrible odor. I knew what it was right from the start. I knew it was a dead body; I just didn’t know where the body was located. It didn’t take us long to find it.”
“Was it Carl?” Mom asked. Her voice was a little shaky.
“We didn’t get to see,” I said. “When Claire opened the hidden doorway in the library, the obnoxious odor ran us out of the house. The neighbor next door, Abigail Morgan, came up to us and then called the police.”
“I remember her,” Mom said. “She called Claire at Christmas. I talked to her for a few minutes. She’s a nice lady.”
“Yeah, I know, Mom. She helped us out a lot when the police came. She told Detective Trainum he could talk to us after we had our tea and had a chance to calm down. She told him we had suffered a terrible shock.”
“What did that hateful man have to say about that?”
“Not much,” I said. “It seems Abigail carries a lot of clout; her husband is filthy rich, so nobody messes with her.”
“I’m glad you have her on your side.”
“I am, too. She’s been a big help.”
I heard a doorbell chime.
“Mom, I have to hang up. The police are here to question us. Tell Billy everything I just told you. I’ll call back as soon as we talk with the cops and give you all the details. And don’t worry about us; we’re fine.”
“Be careful, Jesse,” Mom warned. “I know how you are when you get mad. Just don’t say the wrong thing and get yourself arrested.”
“I have everything under control,” I said. “You have nothing to worry about. It’s all going to work out.”
I hope.
CHAPTER 15
Claire and I slowly descended the winding staircase, our heads held high. We didn’t do anything wrong, so we had nothing to fear.
“I told the detective that the two of you were resting,” Abby said as she met us at the foot of the stairs. “However, he insists on talking to you immediately.” She winked at us. “He’s waiting in the parlor.”
We followed her to the parlor and upon entering the room, Detective Trainum and the two police officers with him, stood to greet us. At first, I didn’t think he seemed agitated, until he opened his mouth.
“What were you two doing at Mr. Benson’s house?” he asked. “Don’t you know that I could have you arrested for trespassing?”
“Is that the best you can do, detective?” I asked.
One of the officers placed a tape recorder on the table and asked, “Do you mind if I tape this interview? It would be a lot quicker than going to the station.”
“If you have to, officer,” I said. “We have nothing to hide.”
The doorbell chimed again.
“Hold off on that for a minute,” Abby said as she laughed and walked out of the room. A minute later she returned with a tall, handsome, well-dressed man by her side. I guessed his age to be somewhere around forty.
“Hello, my name is Randolph Morgan,” he said as he shook my hand and then Claire’s. “You can call me Randy.” He then turned to Detective Trainum and asked, “Have you interrogated my clients without my presence?”
Claire and I looked at each other in surprise and then turned to Abby.
“Randy is my son and my attorney. He handles many things for me, but he specializes in criminal law. He’s here to make sure you two get proper treatment. You can trust him; he’s good.”
“Now Abigail, why did you have to go and call him? All I need to do is ask a few questions, and then they can be on their way,” the detective said.
“My name is Mrs. Morgan, or did you forget?” Abby was obviously throwing her weight around.
“Stop being so stubborn and let me do my job, Abby.”
“Stop, right there,” Randy said. “My mother told you to address her as Mrs. Morgan, and I expect you to honor her wishes.”
“Sure… sure… whatever you say.” The detective grimaced as if his underwear was too tight and he desperately needed to tug on them. “Mrs. Morgan, I apologize.”
“Then let’s all have a seat,” Abby said. She turned to the officer and said, “You may turn on your tape recorder.” She looked over at the detective and said, “Would you like some coffee, Frank?”
Randy laughed. “Mom, you’re such a troublemaker.”
“No, thanks, Mrs. Morgan,” Detective Trainum said. “My stomach’s had enough as it is.”
“Okay,” she replied. “Ask your questions, detective.”
Claire and I sat down on the sofa opposite the detective and his men while Abby sat in an overstuffed chair at the end between the two sofas. Her son sat down in a matching chair opposite her. The interrogation began.
“What were you doing at Carl Benson’s house?”
“Don’t answer that question,” Randy said to us.
“How did you get into the house, and what were you looking for?”
“Don’t answer that question.”
Detective Trainum stood up in a huff and said, “What’s the point of me trying to get anything out of these two if you keep telling them not to answer my questions? I guess I’ll just have to take them to the station.”
“Calm down, Frank,” Abby said as she stood and walked over to him. “Why don’t you give my son a few minutes to talk to his clients and then maybe we’ll be able to proceed. I think we got off to a bad start.”
“Why don’t we just cut to the chase,” I said as I stood up. “I’m tired of playing your game. Was it Carl in the cellar?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Then who was it?” I demanded. “I can assure you that Claire had every right to go into that house. Her husband sent her a letter and asked her to come. That’s why we’re here. So stop fooling around and tell us the truth.”
Randy looked over at Claire and said, “I need to see the letter.”
She looked at Abby and said, “I need my purse, Abigail.”
Abby walked over to the credenza, opened the door, and pulled out both of our handbags. She handed them to us. Claire dug into her purse while I placed mine on the sofa and then sat down next to it. Even though I had a concealed weapons permit, I didn’t think Detective Trainum would honor it based on what Abby had said earlier.
“I thought you had the letter in your pocket,” I said to Claire.
“I did, but…”
“It doesn’t matter,” the detective said, frustrated that things weren’t going his way. “Just show your lawyer the letter so we can get on with this.”
Claire handed the letter to Randy. He read it and then handed it to Trainum. “It’s just like she said. He asked her to come. The letter’s only a couple of days old, Frank. What does that tell you?”
“Something stinks!” The detective’s face turned red. “When’s the last time you visited Carl’s house?”
Randy whispered something to Claire and she in turned whispered something back to him.
“Carl and I are still married, so technically, it’s still my house.”
“That’s not for me to say. That’s your lawyer’s problem.”
“To answer your question: I haven’t been back to my house since I left Carl last year. I wouldn’t have come this time if it hadn’t been for the letter he sent me. I have no intentions of getting back with my husband, but I was hoping to get him involved in the lives of his children. They miss him terribly. I was even willing to work out an extremely flexible arrangement where he wouldn’t feel the need to snatch up his own kids to be with them. He scared them half to death with his antics. I’m sure we could’ve worked out something if he’d only used his head. I want him to be in his children’s lives, but not if he’s going to traumatize them with his actions. I was hoping this was going to be an amicable divorce, but I guess that’s not going to happen. I tried to be reasonable, believe me, I did. That’s why I
came here, to work things out about the children.”
Where did that come from? I was so impressed with Claire’s statement, I almost cried myself. She had really laid the sauce on heavy. What cop, faced with the same situation in his relationship, wouldn’t believe her sincerity and admire her for her selflessness? She had said all the right things.
Detective Trainum read the letter again and then handed it back to Claire. “I’m going to need a copy of that letter, Mrs. Benson.”
“We can take care of that right now,” Abby said as she reached over and took the letter. She looked up at Randy and after getting his nod of approval, left the room and was back within seconds. She handed a copy to Trainum and then one to her son. She gave the original back to Claire. “What’s the next step, Frank?”
“I’d like to ask…”
“I think it’s time you told me who the dead body is, Detective Trainum,” Claire demanded.
He looked over at Claire and said, “We found a driver’s license in a purse at the scene and the picture on it appears to match the victim, but…”
“But what? You couldn’t tell by looking at the body?”
“The body’s been in the cellar for at least a week. There’s blunt force trauma to the face and head and the body is in such a state of decomposition that we’ll have to wait for the autopsy results for a positive ID.”
“Give me a break!” I said. “Just tell us who you think it is. I’m sure you have some idea of the victim’s identity. What was the name on the driver’s license?”
“Ophelia Pitman,” he said.
Claire gasped and slumped down on the sofa. “I don’t believe it!”
“Do you know her?” Detective Trainum asked.
“She’s an associate where my husband works.” Claire looked at me. “Jesse, I told you about her. I met her at the last company Christmas party that I attended. She came up to me and handed me her business card. She said that if I ever needed a friend to talk to, I could call her. She was so nice, but I had no idea what she was talking about, or why she chose me. I took the card and slipped it into my purse. I’d seen her a few times in passing since the party, but I haven’t seen or thought about her since I told you about the incident. You said she was probably a lesbian looking for a good time. You laughed and we brushed it off.”
“I sure can come up with some stupid ideas. That was so callous of me. I’m sorry, Claire. When you tell me some of the things I’ve said or done, I’m stunned at myself… stunned that I’m such a hateful person.” I reached over and touched her hand.
“No, Jesse, you’re not…”
“Okay, cut the crap,” Trainum said. “What do you know about this woman, Mrs. Benson?”
Randy walked over and put his hands on Claire’s shoulders. “I think my client has answered enough questions for today. It’s getting late and these two ladies have a long drive ahead of them. It’s snowing again, and if they don’t leave soon, their trip could be very dangerous. Some of the roads are already closed. Don’t you pay attention to the weather, detective?”
“We’re not finished yet,” Trainum said, emphatically. “They can either finish my questions now, or we can take this downtown. Either way, I’m getting my answers before this is over.”
“Fire away,” Claire said. She looked up at Randy and then back to Trainum. “If you cross the line, I’m sure my attorney will forbid me to answer your question.”
“What do you know about Ophelia Pitman?”
“I know that she’s a very beautiful black woman in her mid-thirties, single, tall, slender, intelligent, out-spoken, and destined to reach the top. Carl said she is brilliant.”
“Was your husband having an affair with her?”
“You’d have to ask him,” Claire said. “I have no idea what he’s doing or who he’s seeing. Is it possible? Yes, it’s possible. I’m sure you know that I left him because he was having an affair with his secretary, Sherry Lane. She was married to the man who put a bullet in Carl’s leg last year. Oddly, I’ve heard that her husband, Trevor Lane, was killed in a fiery car crash just two months ago. I deduced that maybe things didn’t go exactly the way they planned when Carl showed up with my kids. Maybe he was supposed to run off with Sherry—no kids included. Carl’s little surprise caused a fight with Sherry and one of them got killed. For some reason, I was sure the dead body was either Carl or Sherry. I couldn’t tell you how Ophelia figured into it all. My guess is that Sherry had her husband killed, and Ophelia found out about it.”
“Hey, maybe Carl and Sherry plotted to have her husband killed, stole your kids and planned to run off with them, but Ophelia got in the way,” I added. “Who knows? Nothing would surprise me anymore.”
“Perhaps Carl killed Trevor for Sherry, and together they were going to run off with my kids, and Ophelia found out,” Claire said. “Ophelia confronted Carl, and he killed her.”
“My guess is…”
“I get the picture,” Detective Trainum butted in as if a light bulb had just come on over his head. He was barking up the wrong tree, and he knew it. “We’re finished here.” He stood to leave.
One of the police officers reached over and retrieved the tape recorder.
“I guess that clears my husband of your outrageous suspicions,” I said. “You were wrong. I told you so! All Billy did was rescue Claire’s kids. He had nothing to do with the mess that’s in your lap now. Ha… ha… ha!”
Detective Trainum ignored me, looked at Claire and said, “Stay out of the house until the crime scene has been released. What you do then is up to you. You’ll also need to move your car out of the driveway.” He motioned for his men to follow him. “Good-bye, Abigail. It’s been a real pleasure, as always.” He turned and walked out.
The front door slammed shut.
Claire grabbed her car keys and went outside to move her car. A couple of minutes later she returned and said, “I don’t know why he insisted that I move my car; the crime scene tape is up on the front door, not the driveway and yard. I think he was just trying to be a jerk.”
“I’m sure he’ll have someone watching the house for a while and your car probably obstructs their view,” Randy said as he helped Claire remove her coat.
“That was fun!” Abby said with extreme vigor.
“You’re a crazy person,” I told her.
“I’m crazy? You’re the one who was making fun of Frank… laughing at him and all.”
“You enjoyed every minute of it. And what’s with you and that detective? Did the two of you have a fling or something? There was too much undercurrent present for nothing to be going on.”
“Frank’s too young for me, silly. No, he dated my daughter and let’s just put it this way, he didn’t get the girl. He’s extremely bitter and jealous. Who would want him with that nasty attitude he has?”
“You are a naughty old broad!”
“She certainly is,” Randy said. “I’m surprised Dad put up with her all these years.”
“Now you just hold on a minute, young man,” Abby said, jumping to her defense. “Your father and I have a good marriage even though I can be a handful sometimes.”
“I know, Mother. I was just trying to get your panties in a bunch.”
“I hate it when you use that phrase. It’s so disgusting!”
Claire and I laughed at the two of them.
I turned to Randy and said, “Thank you for your help. Things could’ve gotten ugly. Detective Trainum is a difficult man.”
“That’s why Mother called me,” he replied. “She’s a good person. She’s also very smart.”
“I can tell,” I said. I looked over at Claire. “Are we ready to leave?”
“You could stay the night,” Abby offered. “I looked at the monitors when I went to make those copies and the ground’s covered with fresh snow. It’ll be dark soon. The roads will be treacherous. What about your family photo album? Don’t you want to get that?”
Claire and I looked at each other.
“That was a fib,” I said. “That was our excuse in case we got caught.”
“I bet this day didn’t turn out as you planned,” Abby said.
“That’s the truth!” Claire said. “I’m sorry to hear about poor Ophelia being murdered.”
“Carl’s going to prison. I can see it now,” I smiled and said. “Wait until the cops get their hands on him. He was supposed to be such an upstanding citizen and he turned out to be a homicidal maniac.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Abby said, looking at me strangely. “I take it you don’t like the man.”
“You’re right about that, lady.”
“I thought the whole point of coming here was to see if we could find any clues as to Carl’s whereabouts,” Claire said. “Isn’t that important anymore?”
“As far as I’m concerned, I don’t care where Carl is,” I responded. “The only reason I wanted to find him was to clear Billy and his brothers. I wanted to prove that Carl was still alive. Now that point is moot. He’s obviously alive and well, and off somewhere with his girlfriend, Sherry, the slut. I wish them well. All I want to do is get back to my family. Let the police handle Carl.”
“If you ladies don’t need me anymore, I need to get back to what I was doing before my mother summoned me here,” Randy said as he picked up his briefcase. He looked over at Claire. “I’ll keep this copy of Carl’s letter for you just in case something comes up. If it does, don’t hesitate to call.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a business card and then handed it to her. “As I said, don’t hesitate to call.”