by G. K. Parks
“There are a lot of humdrum details, pictures, ads, et cetera, et cetera.” He was basically summarizing the same results I found online, so I stared at him, waiting for the point. “But I happened to stumble upon this and thought it might be relevant to your investigation.”
He clicked a link, and a video opened on the computer. Valerie Yves was on screen with Rick Sanderson. The quality left a lot to be desired, but as the video played, I was extremely relieved the quality was crap.
“You need to warn a person ahead of time.” I grimaced as Sanderson disrobed. Amateur pornography at its worst. “Did you watch this?” I was appalled by the entire thing for too many reasons to even count.
“Not the whole thing. Trust me, I don’t want to see that. Any of that.” He got up from behind his desk and went to the wet bar. “No wonder he wears nice suits. He’s trying to hide all that sagging flab.” He cringed and swallowed a shot. “Want a drink?”
“Maybe to wash my eyes out,” I retorted, “but no.”
I commandeered the vacant chair and hit play. It had been brought to my attention, so I was condemned to evaluate it for clues or who knows what else. It played on. The camera moved from time to time, indicative of a third person acting as amateur filmmaker. The upload date was the day after Caterina’s murder. It might just be a coincidence, or this was where a few of the remaining four names on our list disappeared to after the party. No one else ever appeared on screen, but I couldn’t help but stare at the pillow on the bed. A pillow might just be a pillow, or it might be a murder weapon.
Forwarding the link to the police department, I dialed Heathcliff and told him to check his e-mail. The boys in blue could watch, re-watch, mock, fast forward, rewind, and otherwise dissect the entire thing before I got there. I saw it once, which was already one too many times. It might be a lead on the origin of our murder weapon, but much more still needed to be determined. For all any of us knew, this could have been filmed months earlier and only hit the internet that day. When I concluded the call, I closed the browser and stepped away from the computer.
“That’s what he was wearing the night of the party,” Martin said from his seat on the couch. “I remember because we were both wearing similar designer suits, and he commented that the dark blue shirt I had on was a better choice than the pale green he was wearing.” Again, I wondered about his obsession with clothing but kept my mouth shut.
“I don’t want to know how you stumbled upon that.” I gestured at the computer. “Thanks for telling me though. The IT guys employed by the police department can probably determine when it was created and things of that nature. Maybe it’ll lead to the break we need.” I took a seat next to him. “I know you want updates on the case, but things are moving in a million different directions. Everyone has something to hide, but the things they’re hiding might be completely unrelated to Caterina’s murder.” I stared at the ceiling and blinked, trying to make sense of this new piece of evidence.
Martin brushed my hair behind my shoulder, and I turned and looked at him expectantly. “Was Rick’s party anything like that?” His voice had an edge, and I snorted.
“No, but maybe I left too soon.” I turned sideways on the couch and faced him. “I have to get out of here in a minute and deal with another client. What was the third thing you wanted?”
“I received a call this morning. It was an invitation to a social engagement in lieu of Caterina’s passing.” His eyes showed disdain and anger. “Can you believe that?”
“Lola got the same invite, except hers was more along the lines of ‘this is a great career opportunity to strut your stuff to potential backers and advertising firms’.” I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure something out. “Does your marketing department hire models for whatever it is you create and sell?” Martin Technologies was so vast. I had no idea exactly what it designed.
“Depends on the product or technology. At conventions and expos, we hire a few to showcase our latest developments, but we don’t advertise in the traditional commercial sense.”
“Okay.” Were all the previous guests invited to the memorial, or was Tate only inviting possible backers and clients? From what I remembered, she thought Martin was guilty, so it was strange he was invited. “Any idea why you received an invite?”
“Do you think I’m being targeted again?” His expression was neutral, and I couldn’t tell if he was being serious. Obviously, I had been away from him for so long I couldn’t pick up on his slight nuances anymore.
“I have no idea, but the police are using it as a sting. Well, information gathering opportunity would be more accurate.” I doubted anyone would be arrested at the party. “My advice as your security consultant is to stay the hell away. You’ve already been mixed up in this once. There’s no reason to risk a repeat performance.”
“Noted.” His green eyes were still searching my face. “Are you okay? You sounded off when you called last night, and well, you do look like hell, if hell was a gorgeous, intelligent woman.” I gave him my ‘cut the crap’ look. “We’re friends, or at least we were for quite some time.” He could be relentless. “I’m here if you need anything, even if it is just to talk.”
I gave him a warm smile and stood up. “I’ll be okay, and we are friends.” I picked up the stack of applications, dreading my next destination. “Friday afternoon?” I indicated the papers.
“See you then.”
* * *
I had sat through Mrs. Smidel’s ranting for the last twenty minutes. Roger was next to her, looking embarrassed by his mother’s outburst. I was sitting opposite the two of them, trying to keep from yawning. When she finished, or at least stopped for an extended amount of time to catch her breath, I relayed the information Fletcher gave me.
“I know this seems unfathomable,” I was working on being sympathetic, “but Roger,” I looked at him, “you got yourself into hot water. I don’t need any of the actual details. You’ve put me in an awkward position because I’m consulting with the police on a major crime, but I don’t want to risk losing your trust either.” Mrs. Smidel looked as if she were about to begin another barrage, so I pushed ahead. “Here is the name of an attorney who is familiar with the situation. Let’s just say he has a few favors he can call in on your behalf.” I offered the card to her, but she remained completely still, staring at it as if it were a venomous snake.
Roger took the card and gave me an impish grin. “Can he help Karen and Oliver too?” he asked. I assumed Oliver was the boy from the park.
“He’ll do everything he can, and that’s one of the questions you can ask when you contact him. He’s expecting your call.” I stood, hoping to escape without having to endure any more screeching. “Do you have any other questions, or is there anything else I can do?” I wasn’t used to dealing with non-corporate or non-law enforcement clients, so I didn’t know how to conclude business.
“I still don’t see how you let this happen,” she hissed, and Roger rolled his eyes.
“Mom, just shut up. Alexis is trying to help.” I knew I liked the kid. He walked me to the door. “Thanks. Can I call and let you know how things go?”
“Talk to Fletcher first. He’ll let you know what you can and can’t tell me. In the meantime, stay out of the park and keep your head down. I don’t want to get arrested again because I have to save you and your friends.” I winked and left before his mom could verbally abuse me anymore.
Two down. One to go.
Twenty-six
The police station was abuzz with new information. The Skolnick case had gotten new life breathed into it with the apprehension of Raymond Alvarez and the discovery of the amateur pornographic film starring Richard Sanderson and Valerie Yves. As I headed toward the back corner of the room that housed Heathcliff’s desk, I was amazed at how lively everyone was. The energy in the room was palatable and upbeat. It felt good to no longer be stuck in the mud.
“You’re missing all the fun,” O’Connell yelled on his way to the in
terrogation room. I fell in step behind him and followed to the observation room.
Set up in interrogation room one was Ray Alvarez. Thompson and Heathcliff were taking turns questioning him, and I came in at the tail end of the interview. A few minutes later, the interrogation was concluded, and an officer escorted Alvarez to a holding cell.
“Anything?” I asked O’Connell as we stared into the now empty room.
“Alvarez admitted to being paid off to dose Caterina’s drink.” He spun around to face me since nothing exciting was happening on the other side of the two-way mirror. “He claims he needed the extra cash to support his kid. Seems he knocked up Reynolds, and the two have only reconciled in the last couple of months.”
“The need for an extra income and someone else to babysit tends to have that effect,” I commented. “Who paid him? Was it Spencer?”
“It’s refreshing to find a hopeless romantic,” he quipped. “And yes, Spencer was responsible for the hand-off, which you uncovered on the surveillance tape. But Alvarez says Spencer was just delivering the message.”
“Message being drugs?”
“Right on the nose,” Thompson answered, having caught the last bit of conversation as he entered the room. “Supposedly, there was a note attached. It gave Alvarez a location to pick up payment for his services. I’m on my way to bring Spencer in.”
“I’ll tag along,” O’Connell offered. “Heathcliff should be in interrogation two with the LT, if you want to watch.” I went across the hallway and into the next observation room connected to the second interrogation room. Inside, Heathcliff and Moretti were questioning Linda Reynolds.
She wasn’t connected to Caterina’s murder. The only thing Reynolds was guilty of was spawning with a misogynistic asshole. No matter how hard they pushed and threatened, she didn’t crack. She didn’t know where he got his money or what he was involved in. She was simply trying to make ends meet and was more than willing to take any assistance offered by the deadbeat bartender.
Finally, Heathcliff asked about the restraining order and any instances of domestic abuse. As predicted, she claimed it was all a misunderstanding. There were no 911 calls or hospital records to disprove her insistence that Alvarez wasn’t abusive. Originally, she just wanted him to leave her alone, but nine months later, the story changed. She didn’t want her child to grow up without a father and the monetary support one could provide. Despite all of Alvarez’s flaws, he took care of the kid a few nights a week, and his parents did an excellent job spoiling their only grandchild.
Moretti had no choice but to dismiss her, but he warned her if there were any other run-ins with the law, her parental rights may be reassessed by the state. It was the scariest threat the police could make against a new mother. She crumpled in on herself, but she still didn’t have anything useful to give us.
“Are you gonna read me in?” I asked as Heathcliff opened the door, surprised to see me.
“Nice of you to join us, Parker.” He held the door, and we went to his desk. “Reynolds is clean as far as we can tell. She seems clueless. And Alvarez is his pleasant self. We have him in holding until we figure out what exactly to do with him. We’re waiting as long as possible before we book him as payback for the week spent tracking him down. According to Reynolds, Alvarez stays with his parents when he’s babysitting, so he’s allegedly been there the entire time.”
“Someone’s investigative skills are slipping,” I teased, earning myself an icy look.
“He’s insisting Jake Spencer gave him the drugs and a message to lace Caterina’s drink. The envelope of money the bird told you about,” he looked at me curiously, “is what he was paid for drugging her. He’s a real brain trust, though. He believed the drugs were recreational, and he had no fucking idea they would be used in the commission of her murder. Regardless, if the DA wants to push, they can pursue felony murder charges.”
“Brilliant defense.” Alvarez’s stupidity pissed me off. “With logic like that, he could have poured cyanide in her drink.”
“Be thankful it was only a roofie or else we’d have two bodies in the morgue.” That one hit too close to home, and a shiver traveled through me. I needed to get over my hang-up when it came to Martin’s safety. “Sorry.” He reconsidered his statement after watching the blood drain from my face.
“Thompson and O’Connell are bringing in Spencer now.” I was moving the story ahead. “Any updates on the amateur porno I sent you?”
“Tech’s working on determining the IP address, so we’ll have the physical location where it was uploaded from. Hopefully, we’ll get a date and time of its creation too.” He exhaled. “It’ll take some time and patience, and Moretti’s warned us not to rush the tech department. Apparently, we’ve been looking over their shoulders too often.” He adopted a sly grin. “However, from a preliminary evaluation of the video and background noises, it was filmed on a boat.”
“Sanderson’s?” That vile video might just get me excited, after all. “Did you see the pillow?”
“Oh, yeah. We’re hoping it will be enough for a warrant.” It was a relief that we were finally making progress. “How’d you find the video?”
I laughed bitterly. The last thing I wanted was to implicate Martin or bring him back into the investigation, but there was no use in hiding the truth. “I didn’t. It was brought to my attention after I questioned someone about his familiarity with Tate’s models.”
“James Martin?” Heathcliff asked, even though he knew the answer.
“Yep. Just so you know, he was also invited to Tate’s event this Thursday. I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it.” The wheels were turning in his head, causing an uneasy feeling to settle in the pit of my stomach.
I didn’t know why I was suddenly apprehensive, but my gut reactions tended to be right more often than not. Before I could determine the cause of my nervousness, Moretti opened his office door and barked at us to join him inside.
“Parker,” he gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk, “normally, I’d be pissed by some outsider showing up my police force, but you’ve been helpful here, so thanks.” I remained silent, waiting to see where this was going. “I’ve made arrangements for O’Connell, Thompson, and Jacobs to go undercover Thursday night as caterers. Obviously, Lola will be making an appearance. I wish some of our vice girls made the cut in order to back you up, but needless to say, we’ll have people around. We need you to discover everything you can regarding Spencer, Alvarez, Sanderson, and that woman in the video. What’s her name?”
“Valerie Yves,” Heathcliff supplied.
“Yves, right.” Moretti looked determined that answers would surface. “Someone’s bound to know something. All we have right now is Spencer passing the drugs to Alvarez. We still need to determine if he was acting alone or on behalf of someone else. Since he didn’t pay Alvarez straight out, he might have passed the drugs along on behalf of a third party, and we still don’t know who suffocated and stabbed the vic.” He shifted his gaze, and I hoped my turn was over. “Heathcliff, you’ve been the face of this entire investigation, so you’re coordinating things from the surveillance van. With any luck, IT will get some useful information from the porno, and we will ascertain the filming location, maybe see if anyone else gets implicated, and track down the origin of the goddamn murder weapon.”
“Aye, sir,” he agreed, and briefly, I wondered if he served in the military or if he was just this polished and stiff from taking police work too seriously.
“Okay, kids, get back to work,” Moretti dismissed us. His brief speech was strange, but maybe this was his way of keeping his staff up-to-date.
Heathcliff and I spent the rest of the night waiting for the tech team to give us some hard evidence. In the meantime, Spencer was brought back to the police station for his third interview. At last, we had something substantial to throw at him. Heathcliff was annoyed to think he’d have to deal with more tears and regret, but Spencer man
ned up, much to Heathcliff’s relief.
As Nick and I stood in the observation room, watching the interview, he asked, “Are you up for some undercover work?”
“I’m overjoyed,” I replied sardonically. “How ‘bout you? Are you renting a tux to pose as a caterer?”
“I’m bartending since it doesn’t look like Alvarez will be working this one. The LT also thought it’d be a good idea to ensure the safety of all the guests this time. Just imagine the news article, guests poisoned during police operation.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, despite the morbid, gallows humor. “Good call.” We fell silent when Heathcliff slammed his fist on the table, causing Spencer to jump in fear. He’d break. I was sure of it. “Do you think the internet porn is going to be any help?” I turned my back to the two-way mirror and faced O’Connell.
“Our murder weapon is in plain sight, so it ought to be enough to get a warrant once we determine the location of the film or the identity of the person who uploaded it. Unfortunately, we can’t go after Sanderson straight out, or he might claim to be an unknowing participant, and his team of lawyers would be all over us.”
“I hate how manipulative affluent people can be.”
“Hey,” his voice was sharp, “be thankful. If Martin didn’t have resources and friends in high places, this case might have closed two weeks ago with him in lockup. The system might be flawed, but at least this time an innocent guy isn’t taking the fall.”
I lowered my voice and double-checked there was no surveillance equipment set up in the room. “He didn’t do it, and he never should have been brought in as the murder suspect. But it was his yacht, and now, after he found the film on the internet, if I didn’t know him or the circumstances, maybe I’d…” I didn’t finish my thought. He wasn’t guilty, but his helpfulness could get him into trouble. I wanted Nick to reassure me this was not the case.
“Any of us could have found the porno. Don’t start playing defense attorney in your head. That’s the DA’s job. Not yours.”