“No, you won’t. They knowingly participated in an illegal scheme. Tell them they had a close call today and that’s it. Tell them if you pay the money back, it can be traced to them if there’s a later investigation. I’m certain they’ll pass on the money to avoid the risk.” He stared at her pointedly. “This is your only way out, Lulu.”
She finally nodded in understanding. “I’ll call them all today.”
“And talk to your partners in Florida. Make it clear to them that the long arm of Virginia law reaches that far south. If they don’t want to lose the boats and the babes, they better get off your back and stick to pole dancing and beer, which I’m sure pays a pretty penny.”
King rose and motioned for Michelle to join him in leaving. “And with Remmy helping to take care of the kids financially and finishing up your house, you might want to spend less time here and more time at home. It’s just a suggestion.”
As they were heading out, Lulu called to them. “Look, I owe you a big debt. All I can say is thank you.”
King turned back. “I figured you were about due a break. Good luck.” He and Michelle started to leave again but paused when Lulu called to them again.
“I do know what kind of car the woman drives. I saw it one time.”
“We know too. An older-model Mercedes convertible.”
“It was more than that. It was a true classic, a 1959 300 SL Roadster.”
“How do you know that?” asked Michelle.
“One of my partners is a car buff. He’s got a fleet of fancy ones he keeps down in Naples. He taught me a lot. The one the lady drives is a beauty. It’s worth a small fortune.”
King muttered something under his breath. “Lulu, consider your debt paid in full. Come on, Michelle.” He grabbed her arm and pushed her out the door.
“What’s the rush?” asked Michelle.
“I think I know where to find that car.”
Chapter 62
King parked his Lexus on a side road and got out.
“We’ll have to walk from here. I don’t want anyone to see us if we can help it.”
“Where are we going?”
“Be patient. You’ll see soon enough.”
They climbed over a rear gate and made their way down a gravel road. Through a break in a long row of one of the twelve-foot hedges planted on either side, Michelle caught a glimpse of the house in the distance and commented, “We’re at the Battles’.” As King moved away from the direction of the house, she said, “Sean, the house is that way.”
“That’s not where I’m heading.”
“Where, then?”
King pointed up ahead. “To the car barn.”
They reached the large structure without being seen. King was able to jimmy open a side door, and they went inside. He made his way along each of the cars on the first floor, looking under their protective cloth covers. Finished with the first floor, they headed up the stairs to the second.
There were a number of covered cars up there, and King started checking each. Arriving at the third vehicle, he lifted off the cover completely and let it drop to the floor. He looked at the vehicle’s model name.
“A 300 SL.” He knelt down and inspected the tires, running his hand along the tread. He held up one finger for Michelle to see.
“Mud,” she said. “But how could someone take this car and no one know about it?”
“Easy. This building isn’t used anymore, Sally told us. And it’s not visible from the house. And that gravel road we came up leads right to the side road. If she’s only driving late at night, chances are good no one would see her.”
“Her. So I guess it’s pretty clear who our sexy stripper/drug user is.”
King straightened up. “Yes, it is. And I guess we better go and talk to her.”
“This isn’t going to be pretty.”
“Trust me: not knowing the truth is even uglier.”
They headed in the direction of the mansion. Before they got there, however, King veered off, passed by the stables and went through the gate connecting the carriage house and the Battle mansion properties.
“Sean, where are you going? Savannah’ll be at Casa Battle.”
King ignored her and kept marching along. She hurried after him. He saw the car parked out front, raced up the steps and pounded on the carriage house’s front door. They soon heard footsteps coming and the door opened.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Can we come in, Dorothea?” asked King. He placed one foot inside the doorway in case he didn’t get the answer he wanted.
“Why?” she demanded.
“Kyle Montgomery’s dead.”
One of Dorothea’s hands flew to her chest, and she stepped back as though staggered by a physical blow. “I… I don’t know who that is.”
“We know everything, Dorothea. We traced the car.”
“What car?”
“The 300 SL in the car barn you used to drive to the Aphrodisiac.”
She stared defiantly at them. “You’re wrong.”
“We’re wasting time,” King said impatiently. “You were seen leaving the club, Dorothea. We have a witness who recently saw you get in the car and drive off around five in the morning.”
Dorothea’s defiant look started to fade.
“This same person heard you and Kyle arguing. You pulled a gun on him. You threatened him—”
“I didn’t threaten that little…” Dorothea stopped and looked like she might faint.
King said quietly, “I thought you’d want to talk to us first, before the police. But if not, we can go ahead and call them now.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. Within seconds her hardened exterior simply crumbled and tears slid down her cheeks. King pushed open the door and they went in.
Chapter 63
“I didn’t kill him, Sean. I didn’t.”
“But you were buying drugs from him?”
They were sitting in the living room. King and Michelle were in wing chairs. Dorothea was on the small sofa across from them, clutching the arm of the furniture as though if she let go, she’d topple to the floor.
“I’ve been under tremendous pressure lately,” she began slowly. “I’ve had some… financial reverses.”
“Spending a thousand dollars a night on drugs isn’t exactly the way to stop financial problems.”
She looked at him, stunned. “Did you talk to that little shrimp!”
“Careful, one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Tell me about that night.”
“How much do you know?”
“Enough that if you start lying, I’ll know, and that won’t make me happy.”
“I don’t know what came over me, I really don’t. I could tell Kyle wanted to sleep with me. Not that it wasn’t obvious. Men are so transparent.”
“But you didn’t want to sleep with him?”
“Of course not. But I’d had a lot to drink. And I’d made up my mind that that night was the last time. Like you said, drugs weren’t going to solve my problems. And it wasn’t just the money problems. It was the family… Marrying into the Battle clan carries with it a lot of pressure and stress.”
“I can see having Remmy as a mother-in-law wouldn’t exactly be a walk in the park,” commented Michelle dryly.
“It was a complete and total nightmare. Everything I did, wore, ate, drank or said was scrutinized. And they weren’t tactful about criticism. Bobby was far worse than Remmy. He was such a tyrant. And his mood swings were terrifying. Smiling and happy one minute, screaming and bullying the next. Anyone could be a target, even Remmy. I’ve started seeing a therapist, trying to tackle my issues in a more constructive way.”
“That’s good,” said King. “But you were telling us about Kyle.”
“Yes. Well, when Kyle came with the drugs, I was a little looped and decided to screw with him. So I, well, I…” She stopped, her face flushing. “It was idiotic. I know that.”
“We know about the striptease. You
don’t have to elaborate. But you pulled a gun on him.”
“He was about to attack me! I had to protect myself.”
“And you demanded the money back.”
“I’d paid him enough. He was stealing the drugs. His profit margin was a hundred percent. I was just trying to make the transaction a little fairer from my end.”
“So you got the money back?”
“Yes. I pretended I was going to shoot him, and he ran out. That’s the last time I saw him, I swear.”
“How did you end up approaching him in the first place?”
“I knew he worked at Sylvia’s office, although we never had any direct contact. I’d gone there for a back injury. The painkillers she prescribed became sort of a necessity, but after my treatment was completed, Sylvia wouldn’t write any more prescriptions. But by then I was hooked. I knew Sylvia kept the drugs I wanted at her office. I could tell Kyle was a marginal person: ready, willing and able to do anything for money. And I knew prescription drugs from a medical office were far safer than anything you could buy on the street. Besides, I had no wish to get hooked up with an actual drug dealer. I picked the Aphrodisiac as the rendezvous spot because I’d had lunches and meetings there and knew they had rooms and wouldn’t ask any questions.”
“And you don’t think he knew who you were? He’d obviously seen you at Sylvia’s office.”
“I always wore glasses and a scarf, kept the lights low and spoke very little. And if he had recognized me, I’m sure he would’ve tried to blackmail me.”
King was looking at her closely when she said this. She caught his look and paled.
“I know this seems really bad, Sean.”
“Dorothea, it is really bad. Does Eddie know about any of this?”
“No! Please, you can’t tell him. We don’t have the world’s greatest marriage, but I still care for him and this will kill him.”
“I can’t promise you anything, Dorothea. Now, I want to know where you were last night.”
“I was here.”
“Eddie can corroborate that?” asked Michelle. “He came back early from the reenactment.”
“How did you know that?” asked Dorothea.
Michelle looked uncomfortable. “I drove up with Chip Bailey to Middleton to see the battle. Chip had to leave early and Eddie drove me back. He said he wasn’t going to stay for the second day of the reenactment.”
Dorothea stared at her suspiciously and then said, “Well, he wasn’t in the house last night. He was probably in his studio. He sleeps there sometimes.”
Michelle started to say something but then stopped.
King said, “So you don’t have an alibi. By the way, I called the Jefferson Hotel in Richmond. You never checked in on the night Bobby was killed, like you said you did. The FBI will also have discovered that fact. Were you at the Aphrodisiac that night?”
“Yes. Kyle brought me the drugs around ten o’clock.”
“Ironic.”
“What is?”
“He was your alibi for your father-in-law’s murder, but now he’s dead. So unless someone else at the club saw you, there goes your alibi for that murder too.”
Dorothea put her head in her hands and started sobbing. Finally, Michelle rose, went into the kitchen and came back with a wet cloth for her.
“Just take it easy, Dorothea,” said King. “Kyle’s death hasn’t been ruled a murder yet. It might just be a drug overdose. Or even a suicide.”
“I can’t imagine that man taking his own life. The little I saw of him he was far too interested in furthering his own interests.” Dorothea wiped her face with the cloth and then stared across at King. “So where do we go from here?”
“We can’t keep your actions secret.”
Dorothea’s lips started to tremble. “I guess I couldn’t expect you would.”
“The extent of what has to be revealed is still to be determined, however.”
“I didn’t kill Kyle Montgomery or my father-in-law!”
“Speaking of the latter, why did you go to the hospital that day?”
“Does it really matter now?”
“It could.”
She drew a long breath. “Bobby promised me money, a larger part of his estate. His will needed to be changed to do that. He said he’d do it, but had never given me proof he had.”
“So you went there to see if he’d verify he’d done it?”
“I heard he was awake and talking. I didn’t know if I’d have another chance. My financial problems would be solved if Bobby had changed his will like he said he would.”
“No, you mean they’d be solved when he died and you actually got the money,” corrected Michelle.
“Yes,” Dorothea said quietly as she looked down. “Anyway, when I got there he wasn’t coherent, and was back on the ventilator.”
“Did Eddie know about this change-in-the-will prospect?”
“No. Eddie thinks we’re fine financially. Eddie doesn’t worry about anything.”
“I think you’re wrong there,” said Michelle.
“Why would Bobby change his will to favor you and Eddie over Remmy? From what I’ve heard he’d already provided for you both.”
Dorothea smiled tightly. “Can one ever have enough money? I know I can’t. And Bobby had so damn much of it.”
He eyed her steadily. “Bobby was a tough negotiator. So what was the quid pro quo, Dorothea?”
“I’d rather not say,” she finally replied. “It’s not something I’m exactly proud of.”
“Actually, I think I can guess. The little striptease you did for Kyle probably paled in comparison. By the way, why did you drive one of Bobby’s classic cars to the Aphrodisiac?”
She looked at him with a triumphant smile. “I figured he owed me at least that. And he never drove them anymore.”
“Do you know why?”
“He got tired of them, I guess. The great Bobby Battle was renowned for that. Getting tired of things and then forgetting about them.” She stifled a sob.
King stood and looked down at her with little sympathy. “If Kyle’s death is ruled a murder, the police will want to question you.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter now. It can’t get any worse.”
“Oh, no, Dorothea, it can get a lot worse.”
As they left the house, Michelle said, “How did you know it was her? I had Savannah pegged as our druggie-stripper.”
“No, she couldn’t be.”
“Why not? You remember the way she flaunted herself at the pool that day.”
“Exactly. That was the answer. Sylvia said that when she was at the Aphrodisiac, she overheard Kyle say that the woman was flaunting her naked butt.”
“Yes, so?”
“Well, Savannah has her name tattooed on her butt. Other things being equal, I doubt she’d show it off to Kyle if she wanted to remain incognito. There’s only one Savannah in Wrightsburg with a derriere like that.”
Chapter 64
Later that day they received word from Sylvia that she’d completed the autopsy of Kyle Montgomery. They arranged to meet at King’s office. When she showed up, Todd Williams was with her. A minute later Chip Bailey pulled into the parking lot.
“I called him,” explained Williams. “I figured we needed to keep him in the loop, even though Kyle’s killing isn’t connected to the serial murders.”
“Are you sure it’s not?” replied King.
Williams looked at him sharply. “Are you trying to drive me nuts?”
As they settled themselves in the conference room, Sylvia opened her folder.
“As I said, we won’t know the exact cause of death until we get the toxicology screens back,” she began. “However, there were some unusual findings on the external exam that lead me to believe his death was suspicious.”
“As in suicide by overdose?” asked King.
“No, as in homicide.” She paused and then began speaking quickly but firmly. “Kyle was not a known drug user. We foun
d no other drugs or drug paraphernalia in his apartment, and there were no other needle marks on any part of his body.”
“But you did find a used syringe with something in it and a needle mark in the arm,” commented Bailey.
“The something in the syringe has been confirmed as heroin. Okay, let’s say Kyle wanted to kill himself. Heroin is a street drug, so you can never be certain of the dose you’re actually injecting. And you also have to wonder where he obtained it. I obviously don’t have any in my pharmacy.”
Williams said, “But he’d know more than a layperson. And the sad truth is, there are sources of illegal drugs everywhere.”
“But if you’re going to kill yourself, you’re looking to get it right the first time. Bottom line: heroin isn’t a good choice for suicide. But more importantly, I found two small superficial puncture wounds in the center of Kyle’s chest. I hadn’t noticed them at the crime scene because of the poor lighting.”
“What sort of punctures?” said Bailey.
“Like tiny needles set barely an inch apart. It’s some sort of patterned injury.”
“Like from a syringe?” asked Michelle.
“No. And you wouldn’t use a syringe on your chest. Arms and legs are by far the best locations for injection purposes.”
“Well, what do you think it is, then?” asked King.
“I’ve seen a case like this before in Richmond, after a riot. A man went into cardiac arrest and died after police incapacitated him with a Taser gun. A Taser would leave twin marks like I saw on Kyle where the electrified darts impacted the body.”
Bailey said, “So somebody shoots him with the Taser and then injects him with an overdose. That’s why there was no sign of a struggle.”
“I can’t be absolutely certain about the Taser, but there’s more. I also found small petechiae and hemorrhages in his eyes and mouth.”
“That’s a sign of asphyxia, of being smothered,” said Michelle.
“Exactly. The hemorrhages occur as one struggles for air. Now, there was no evidence of strangulation at autopsy, so I’m thinking he might have been suffocated with an object that would leave no such traces, like a pillow. And heroin is a respiratory depressant; his breathing would already have been very shallow, and that would have aided the person trying to kill him by suffocation.”
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