by Blair Howard
“The place had been thoroughly turned over,” he said. “Clothes, personal items, scattered everywhere. Kitchen drawers turned out onto counter tops, cupboards ransacked, bedding, cushions, even the carpet had been pulled up.”
“Any trace?” I asked.
“There was nothing at the crime scene other than what was on the body. We searched almost an acre of golf course, but… nothing. No tire impressions except from other golf carts. Maybe they used one of those to transport her. It would be a job to figure that out, though. They have more than a hundred of them. We did find a single blonde hair caught in the buckle of her watchband, probably a woman’s. She was a brunette, right?”
I nodded. “DNA?”
“The follicle was present, so yes, but I have to send it to the lab, so we’re looking at several weeks before I can give you a result.”
“What about the apartment?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. There were two glasses on the draining board. They’d been washed and left to drain, so they probably had nothing to do with whoever turned the place over. They might have washed them, but the type of person we’re dealing with wouldn’t bother to put them out to drain so neatly, would they?”
I shook my head. “Who knows. How about the clothing she was wearing? Anything there? Doc Sheddon said there was some bruising where she wore her watch, that it might have been caused by her being dragged by her wrists. Maybe there are prints on the watch.”
“I have her personal belongings. Oh, and we did find her shoes on the golf course: a pair of Tory Burch slip-on sneakers. She wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothing. Just a shirt, bra and shorts, but as I said, she was wearing a David Yurman Albion watch. Expensive, but not excessively so—probably a fashion statement. Anyway, as I said before, we found the hair but nothing else. The crystal was clean, no prints; it must have been wiped, because no watch crystal I’ve ever seen is that clean. The band was sodden. I guess it had been in the water eight or ten hours, but I’m going to put it through the Pathtech, see if we can find anything.”
“Pathtech? What’s that?” I asked.
Willis grinned. “It’s a new toy, a bench-top fingerprint vacuum metal deposition system. Well, it’s not new. I got lucky. They cost around thirty thousand, but I found a used one for less than eight and managed to talk the powers that be into letting me buy it. Haven’t had it long.”
“Oh, how does that work…?” I stopped myself, but it was too late. Oh hell. Big mistake.
“We place the object in the vacuum chamber. The air is sucked out to create a vacuum, and a minute amount of gold is evaporated to form a very thin layer of metal that’s distributed over the surface of the item and penetrates any fingerprint deposits, if there are any. The same amount of zinc is then also evaporated in the chamber. The zinc binds to the gold and voila, up comes the print. Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that, but you get the idea.”
“Gold? Isn’t that expensive?” Kate asked.
“Er… yes. So we have to use it sparingly. But, as we have so little to go on in this case, I think it’s warranted. If there’s anything there, I should be able to let you know tomorrow. I wouldn’t hold out too much hope, though. It’s a long shot.”
We thanked him and left him to it.
We were on our way out to the reception area when we bumped into Chief Johnston.
“Oh hell,” Kate whispered. “Here we go.”
“Hello, Harry.” The look he gave me wasn’t too friendly. “What’s going on, Lieutenant?”
“Just checking in with Willis, Chief. We’re on our way to interview Angela Hartwell’s attorney.”
“Isn’t that what we’re not paying you to do, Harry?” His attempt at humor—or maybe it was sarcasm—didn’t work for me. The strange thing is, we’d always gotten along well when I was on the force. He was an assistant chief then. Maybe he resented me leaving and going out on my own. I know why he lets Kate use me as a consultant; he knows I get results and that it costs him nothing. One day I was going to start billing him.
“That it is,” I replied, “and I hope I’m providing value for no money.”
He grinned. “Good one, Harry. So, Lieutenant. How goes the investigation?”
“We have a few leads. But it takes time, sir, you know that.”
He nodded. “I do, but time is something we’re short on. So get it done, close it out, and let’s move on. No wild goose chases, you hear, Harry? I appreciate you helping out. You have a nose for this kind of crap, and always have, but I need this one wrapped up, and soon. Later, Lieutenant.”
He nodded to us, then walked to the elevator and punched the button.
Chapter 14
We arrived at the offices of Creswell and Hughes at exactly three thirty that afternoon. I slipped a half-dozen quarters into the parking meter and we went inside. The receptionist had to call Creswell out from his office, but he wasn’t long.
In fact, he came down the corridor almost at the run, his hand outstretched. “Harry Starke.” I took it. His grip was firm, and he grasped my left arm with his other hand as I did so. It was a warm and friendly greeting.
“It’s great to see you. Always is. And you too, Lieutenant. Come on, come on. We’ll go to my office. I think I know what this is all about.”
His office was the picture of opulence, of a very successful private practice. But then, he did specialize in corporate law. Which must have been where he’d gotten the money to put himself under the knife, too, because he looked much younger than his sixty years.
“So, Harry. Talk to me,” he said briskly, as we all took seats in front of his desk. “This is about the Hartwells, right?”
Hartwells. Plural. Interesting.
“That’s right,” I said, “but we’re primarily concerned with Angela. We understand that you looked after her legal affairs.”
He nodded. “I did, and those of her husband, and his company, the Hartwell Community Banks. What do you need to know?”
“First, if you could give us a brief rundown of….”
“Of course. I handled all of old man Hartwell’s affairs after Reggie Hughes died. Up until then, he had handled everything. The corporate structure was already in place when I took over. It was simply a matter of handling the company’s everyday needs. Hartwell married late in life, so his children were of an age where worldly experience was, shall we say, not fully developed, and he knew that. He also knew that his youngest son, Ralph, was a bit of a waster, not at all like Regis. Thus, when he put his affairs in order, he made provisions for Ralph but gave control of the company to Regis, and set the whole thing up as a family trust with Regis as the sole executor. When he died, everything passed to Regis, much to Ralph’s eternal resentment. No, that’s too mild a word. Ralph was very bitter, and he hated his father for what he perceived to be an injustice; he hated Regis for cheating him out of his birthright. I think those were the actual words he used. It only got worse when Regis died and left all of his worldly goods to Angela. Oh, he gained control of the company, but not Regis’s money, which was substantial.”
“So you’re saying that Ralph hated both Regis and Angela?” Kate asked.
“He did indeed.”
“And Angela’s money and assets all passed to Ralph when she died?”
“Exactly. Ralph is now a very wealthy man.”
“Regis died of a heart attack,” I said, “but Angela thought he’d been murdered. What do you think?”
“She said as much to me. There may have been something to it. Ralph certainly has a violent streak in him, but… I don’t know. What I can tell you is that Regis had caught Ralph stealing from the banks, and that Regis was trying to sell the company. I was handling the negotiations.”
“You said he had caught Ralph stealing,” I said. “Was he sure? Did he have proof?”
“Said he did. Though I never saw it.”
“Did he say how much?”
He looked at me for a long moment, then said, quiet
ly, “Not exactly. I don’t think he had an exact figure. Several million dollars was what he said.”
“Whoa,” Kate said. “How the hell did that happen?”
“He didn’t tell me that either, but I think it had something to do with the corporate customers. He was somehow robbing them, but how….” He trailed off, looked at Kate, then at me.
I thought for a minute, then asked him, “Okay, so if Regis had proof that Ralph was stealing and in such large quantities, why didn’t he go to the police?”
“I asked him that myself. The first and most important reason, he said, was that he was trying to protect his company’s reputation. Should the thefts be discovered, it would destroy the banks’ credibility. I could understand that. Second, he didn’t want to destroy his family. Sending Ralph to jail would certainly have done that. Finally, he was protecting the pending sale of the company. A major scandal would have jeopardized it. He told me he was covering the shortfalls himself.
“But the sale didn’t go through,” Kate said.
“No, it didn’t. Regis’s death put a stop to it. Ralph didn’t want to sell.”
“And any chance Ralph might have to pay for his sins died with Regis,” I said.
Gene didn’t answer. He leaned back in his chair, his elbows resting on its arms, his hands clasped together with two fingers extended to his lips, and he just looked at me, a slight smile on his face.
“What was the asking price for the company?” I asked.
“Regis was sticking at $185 million, just under three times assets.”
“So,” I said, “if the sale had gone through, Regis would have become extremely wealthy and Ralph would have been exposed as a thief?”
“Wealthy? Yes, he would. But I don’t think he would have exposed Ralph. Ralph might have thought so, but Regis wouldn’t have let it happen. He told me he was going settle some money on him, enough for the two of them to live comfortably, and then let him go. So tell me, Harry. Was Regis murdered?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “If I was a betting man, I’d say yes. Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing. If he did, he got away with it. The autopsy report shows the cause of death as a heart attack. Angela, on the other hand, was definitely murdered. She was strangled and dumped in the river.”
“And you think Ralph murdered her?” he asked.
“At this point, I don’t know that either,” I said. “He certainly had the motive—several of them actually, from what I’ve heard. He doesn’t have an alibi, and neither does his wife. We think there probably was tangible proof of his thieving, and that Angela was in possession of it, but we can’t find it, and it seems neither can her killer, or killers.
“Gene,” I said. “Are you sure Regis never mentioned exactly how Ralph was stealing from the banks?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Well, we’ll never prove he killed Regis, but if we can find the proof that Ralph was stealing from the bank, whatever it was, if it even existed, maybe we can nail him for that. If he killed Angela…. Well, that’s what I’m going to find out. If he did, I’ll get him. If he didn’t, I’ll get whoever did. That I promise you.”
“Well,” he said, “I wish you the best of luck. If there’s anything at all I can do to help, please feel free to call on me. I knew Regis since he was a boy, and Angela for more than ten years. I’d like to see them get the justice they deserve.”
We thanked him for his time and help, and then we left. We arrived back at my car just as the meter was about to run out. It was almost five o’clock.
“What do you think?” I asked as I pressed the car’s starter.
“I think we have a classic case,” she said. “You and I both know that in any murder investigation, the prime suspects are those closest to the victims. In this case, Ralph Hartwell.”
I nodded. “You want to get something to eat?”
“Thanks, but I can’t. I still have five hours left of my shift. Would you mind dropping me back at the PD?”
I didn’t mind, and I did, and then I drove slowly back to the office. When I’d pulled up in the gated lot, I called my father instead of going in. He was still at his office.
“Hey, Dad. What are you doing for dinner tomorrow?”
“Rose and I are going to the club. Why?”
“I thought I might join you, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’m sure Rose will be delighted to see you.”
I didn’t think so. Rose, or Rosalind, is my stepmother. She’s only four years older than me, so you can imagine what that’s like. She could be my damned sister.
“That sounds good,” I said. “What time?”
“How about seven thirty? Will Amanda be joining us?”
For some reason, my father had taken a real shine to Amanda. They just got along well—they were alike in many ways. Both driven, both go-getters, both had amazing sense of humors.
“No, she’s working. She’s doing both broadcasts: six and eleven.”
“Well,” he said, “maybe next time. I’ll see you in the lounge at seven thirty tomorrow evening.
Click.
Damn, I wish he wouldn’t do that. I hadn’t finished.
I really had no desire to go into my office. It had been a long day, and it was far from over. I hit the Bluetooth again and called Jacque. Without telling her I was outside, I answered a couple of questions, then told her to lock up and go home. Me? I too headed home. I needed a drink and a shower, and then maybe another drink.
Chapter 15
The sun was setting in a blaze of red, orange, and gold as I headed out Wednesday evening. It was warm, and the club was bustling—unusual for the middle of the week.
“Harry, over here.” They were in my favorite spot, at the table in the bay window overlooking the ninth green, and they weren’t alone. Ruth Archer was seated next to my father and, by the look on her face, Rose wasn’t at all happy about it.
“Hello, Dad, Rose, Ruth,” I said, dropping onto the curved bench beside Ruth, opposite my stepmother. Never, I say never, will I ever get used to that idea. My stepmother.
“We were just talking about you,” August said. “Ruth was wondering how the investigation was going.”
Was she now.
“Which one?” I asked innocently. “I have more than a dozen going.”
Ruth reached out and placed her hand on mine. “Oh come on, Harry. You know which one. Angela Hartwell. Everyone in the club is wondering how it’s going. We’re all agog. Do you have any suspects?”
I withdrew my hand. “I’m sorry, Ruth. I’m not at liberty to discuss an ongoing police investigation. You should know that.” I watched her eyes as I said it. They narrowed, almost imperceptibly.
“Oh come on, Harry. You can tell me. Do you have any… clues?” She laughed as she emphasized the word, but there was little humor in it.
She really wants to know.
“As I said, I can’t discuss it, other than to say it’s moving right along. Rose, my love. How are you? I haven’t seen you in an age. What have you been up to?” I was watching Ruth as I said it, and again she made with the eyes. Rose began to prattle on about her activities, which were numerous—and boring. I paid lip service to what she was saying, but Ruth was much more interesting. I decided to play her a little.
I waited until there was a break in Rose’s narrative and then said, “Ruth, I understand you’re in the auto business. How is that going for you?”
“It’s going fine, thank you. So are the other businesses in the group….” She paused. “Look, Harry. If you don’t mind, could we have a word alone?” She stood, towering above the table. I nodded and got to my feet too.
She picked up her clutch from the table. “Let’s go out on the terrace for a moment. You don’t mind, do you August? We’ll be but a minute, and then I’ll return him to you.”
August nodded, and I followed her out onto the terrace. It was almost dark, though the night was for the most part clear. There was a h
alf-moon in the sky just to the east, and the stars glittered, obscured now and then by the odd high-flying cloud. If it hadn’t been for whom I was with, it would have been quite romantic. I should have been excited. The goddess was dressed to kill. She was wearing a sleeveless, low-cut, flimsy summer dress and heels that put her eyes almost two inches above my own. I have to admit, as big as I am, I was a little intimidated.
“So, Harry,” she said, linking her arm with mine and steering me to the steps that led down to the eighteenth green. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to talk to you about Angela. You do know she was a good friend of mine, don’t you?”
I didn’t, and I said so.
“Well she was. A very good friend. We were so close in so many ways.”
Jeez, that’s the first I’ve heard of it.
“Go on,” I said, more than a little curious.
“Well, she’d not been herself since Regis died. I know she had a lot on her mind, and I was worried about her. There’s a rumor going around that she thought Regis had been murdered. I couldn’t believe it. Could it have been true, do you think?”
“When did she tell you this?”
“Well, when I heard the rumor, of course I asked her about it. She confirmed it. Did you know about it?”
I smiled to myself. “I did. What else did she tell you?”
“Oh, nothing. She just said she was certain someone had killed him and that she was determined to find out who.”
“You said you knew Angela well?” I asked skeptically. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes. I just told you. I knew her very well. We were good friends. I knew Regis very well, too, and, of course I know Ralph too…. So, Harry, you know about her… quest, I suppose it was? What do you think? Was Regis murdered?”
“Maybe. At this point in the investigation, I don’t know, but I intend to find out, and when I do, I’ll put the killer away for the rest of his—or her—days,” I said, pointedly. “But, tell me, Ruth. Why are you so interested?”
“Oh, I’m just curious. You said ‘her’…. Do you think it could have been a woman?”