by Carol A. Guy
Daniel sighed. “The killer probably wore gloves.”
“It’s December. Everyone is wearing gloves.”
Pushing back his desk chair, Daniel stood up and began to pace. “I’ve got Susan Hatfield coming in for an interview in a few minutes. Why don’t you sit in?”
Luke stood also. “You think that Mrs. Hatfield and the preacher conspired to kill her husband?”
“Love triangles can spawn raw emotions. Several arguments occurred before the murder, one between the victim and the preacher and two that we know of between the Hatfields.”
The sight of Susan walking through the squad room toward his office caused Daniel to stop pacing. “She’s right on time. Looks like she brought company.”
Luke glanced out through the window. “Mark Cardosa. She came with a mouthpiece. How about that?”
Susan and Mark took off their coats, hanging them on the coat tree just outside Daniel’s office. Luke pushed another scuffed looking chair up beside the one he’d vacated. He motioned for Susan and Mark to sit down. Daniel noticed that Susan was wearing a black dress that clung to her like a second skin. Mark Cardosa looked suave in a sleek charcoal gray suit that was obviously custom-made. Luke stood in the corner next to a file cabinet.
Daniel closed the door, then resumed his seat behind the desk. For a moment he observed the widow Hatfield. Her blonde hair was piled atop her head in a way that seemed haphazard but really wasn’t. Light, feathery tendrils hung down around her face, softly caressing it. Her violet eyes were a little bloodshot but not swollen, which told Daniel she hadn’t been up all night crying about her loss.
“I’m really not sure why my client is here, Chief McBride,” Mark Cardosa finally said. He balanced an expensive looking leather attaché case on his lap.
Daniel had never cared much for the smooth-talking attorney. Born and raised in Cleveland, Cardosa had arrived in Crescent Falls a year ago stating he was tired of the rat race. Of course council members like Lloyd Fletcher, who saw an opportunity to have a big city lawyer on the town payroll, talked the town council into hiring Cardosa for the newly created position of legal advisor. From what Daniel had gleaned, Cardosa would mostly be reviewing city contracts. His duties did not include any prosecutorial actions, therefore he was free to take on private clients as he saw fit. Evidently he’d seen fit to take on the beautiful widow.
Daniel knew the trim, well-built attorney was forty years old. His dark hair was neatly styled, his deep brown eyes bottomless as an abyss. He drove a late model Corvette, a convertible of course. Recently he’d purchased one of the more prestigious looking Victorian homes on Hawthorne Avenue.
“First of all, Mrs. Hatfield, let me say how sorry we are for your loss. I admired your husband a great deal,” Daniel said. He then removed a tape recorder from his desk drawer and put it on the desktop. “We’ll be recording this interview.” He turned on the machine then stated the date, time and those present.
Susan glanced at the tissue box on Daniel’s desk, but extracted one from her expensive-looking leather clutch bag and dabbed it under her nose. Daniel didn’t see any evidence of the need to do so, however, since there were no tears in her eyes. She mumbled something that sounded like a thank you.
Mark Cardosa shifted slightly in his seat. “So, why are we here?” His tone was crisp, his eyes suddenly dark as coal.
“We just need to clarify some things, that’s all,” Daniel said, focusing his attention on Susan, not Mark.
“Such as?” Mark said. He snapped open the attaché case, extracting a legal pad. Closing the lid, he used the case as a makeshift desk. From the breast pocket of his suit coat, he retrieved a pen. The words Monte Blanc were emblazoned in gold across the shaft.
“I’d like a little more information about where you were, Mrs. Hatfield, on Saturday afternoon,” Daniel said. He gazed steadily at her.
“I went for a drive. I needed to get away.” She seemed to be concentrating on something over his shoulder. The window there looked out over the south entrance to the parking lot.
“Why?” Daniel asked.
“To clear my head,” Susan replied.
“Trouble at home?” Luke asked.
“I just needed some time to myself.” She looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly together in her lap.
“My client answered these questions on Saturday evening when you notified her of her husband’s death, Chief. So, unless you have anything new…” He seemed about ready to get up.
“We’ve gathered quite a bit of new information since then, Mr. Cardosa,” Luke said.
“Tell me about the argument you had with your husband on Thursday night,” Daniel raised his voice, causing Susan to jump, then dart her gaze his way.
“What? Thursday…I don’t…how did—” she sputtered.
Cardosa stepped in with a warning. “Don’t say another word, Susan.” He glared at Daniel. “Are you charging my client with something?”
Why bring an elephant gun to a turkey shoot? This guy isn’t helping his client one bit. He’s coming on too strong, too fast.
Daniel sat back in his chair, keeping his eyes on Susan. “What was the argument about?”
Luke Fagan stepped forward. “Just so you know. You were overheard.” His voice was steady, without much inflection.
Susan looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She glanced over at her attorney, who was now making notes on the legal pad. That’s when it occurred to Daniel that Cardosa knew nothing about that argument between the Hatfields.
Luke now stood next to Susan’s chair. “So how long had your affair with Douglas Underwood been going on?”
Daniel had always admired Luke’s interrogation techniques. The two men often worked in tandem when questioning suspects. “Jerry followed you to the church that night, Susan, did you know that?” Daniel asked.
“No. He couldn’t have. I didn’t see…” Her lips were forming an O now as she shot a desperate look at Cardosa.
Daniel spoke up. “What about the fight you had with your husband in the church parking lot the day he was murdered? Witnesses say it turned physical. Was that argument about your affair?”
Luke took up where Daniel left off, not giving Susan a chance to respond. “Jerry finally caught on that you were sleeping with that preacher, didn’t he? He confronted your lover on Friday morning, did you know that?”
Susan’s face drained of color. Her breath was coming in short gasps. She shook her head as though denying the truth of what she was hearing.
Daniel could tell that a lot of this was news to Mark Cardosa by the expression of surprise he was trying hard to conceal.
“He threatened you. He threatened your lover. The game was up,” Luke said somewhat more softly.
Daniel could see that Cardosa was less than pleased that his client hadn’t been completely forthcoming with him.
Good. Divide and conquer.
“You might as well tell us the truth, Susan. Lies won’t help you now. It’s all going to come out.” Daniel stared at her.
Recovering from the surprise revelations, Mark Cardosa snapped open the attaché case, replaced the legal pad, shut the case then rose from his chair. “Get up, Susan. We’re leaving. They’re on a fishing expedition. They have no proof of anything, or else they would arrest you.” He nearly yanked Susan from her chair, steering her roughly toward the door. “All married couples argue. It’s not proof of murder.”
Luke strolled over and opened the door for them. His gaze was on Susan as she hesitated on the threshold, looking up at him. “If you have nothing to hide, it’s in your best interest to tell us everything, Mrs. Hatfield.”
Cardosa pushed Susan the rest of the way out of the office, pulling the door shut behind them. They quickly grabbed their coats and hurried from the station house.
“That went well,” Daniel commented with a grimace. He turned off the recorder.
“Oh, we learned a few things,” Luke said. He folded his t
all frame into the chair Mark Cardosa had just vacated. “Susan Hatfield was having an affair with Douglas Underwood. She didn’t know her husband followed her to the church or that he may have witnessed her sneaking into the preacher’s office before choir practice. It’s also possible that Hatfield saw the same thing Dora Carmody did as Mrs. Hatfield was leaving her lover that night.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of a surprise visitor. Dora Carmody stood at the dispatcher’s desk on the other side of the squad room. Day dispatcher Mindy Cooper was a petite woman in her mid-thirties with short blonde hair and luminous green eyes. She’d been with the department eight years. Daniel trusted her judgment implicitly, so when he saw her motion Dora toward his office he knew it must be something important. He had a feeling he knew the reason Mrs. Carmody was here.
Luke opened the door for the diner owner. Daniel smiled at Dora, who today sort of resembled one of Santa’s elves in a green pantsuit with a red wool hat. The tassel on top of the hat was gold. She was carrying a red full length coat over one arm. After sitting down in the chair opposite the desk, she draped the coat across her lap.
“I’ve been agonizing over this all night, Daniel. Finally I decided I needed to come see you about it.” Dora looked up at Luke as though his hovering made her nervous.
Daniel motioned for Luke to take the seat next to Dora, which he did immediately. “What’s wrong, Dora? Did something happen?” He indicated the recorder on his desk. “Mind if I record this interview?”
She agreed then sighed loudly. “This awful thing with Jerry Hatfield…I can’t take it in. It’s just unbelievable. I’m not sure if it means anything, but it just looked so…out of place….too intimate.” She went on to tell them about seeing the hand-holding incident on Thursday night.
Daniel exchanged glances with Luke. Although they already knew about it from his mother, Daniel was glad to hear it from the actual witness.
“They looked flushed…their hands were touching, as though they were just letting go of each other. I can still see it in my mind’s eye. When they saw me they—I swear they looked guilty!” Dora fidgeted in her chair, rearranging the heavy coat on her lap. “I told Adelaide about it. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you, Daniel,” Dora continued. “Or, did she?” She squinted at him with suspicion.
Daniel shuffled papers on his desk. “I can’t really discuss an ongoing investigation, Dora, you know that. Once your statement is transcribed, we’ll call you to come back and sign it. Thanks you for coming in. You’ve been a tremendous help.”
Luke escorted Dora from the office. Once Daniel was alone, he did some thinking while making notes at the same time. The interview with Susan was less than helpful. Obviously he wasn’t going to get her alone, not with that pit bull Cardosa hovering around her like he was guarding a bone.
I’ll just have to hand it over to Mother. She can pay Susan a visit, which I’m sure she plans to do anyway, unless I miss my guess. That way there will be no lawyer present.
He called his mother’s cell phone, not at all surprised to discover he’d been right. She intended to drop in on Susan that afternoon.
“So, she’s hired Mark Cardosa. So quickly, too,” Adelaide said thoughtfully.
“I’m not surprised. She’s got a lot to hide. She’s holding things back from him, also,” Daniel told her. “By the way, Dora Carmody gave us a statement about what she saw Thursday night at the church.”
Adelaide sighed. “I had a feeling she’d pay you a visit. I could tell she was really troubled by it.”
“The case against your preacher is building, Mother.”
“You don’t have to remind me of that, Daniel,” Adelaide said rather sharply.
“Let me know what you find out from Susan Hatfield… please,” he said before ending the call.
Moments later, Daniel’s attention was caught by another unexpected visitor. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered as he watched Fran Underwood speaking with Mindy at the dispatcher’s console. His intercom rang. He pushed the appropriate button. Mindy’s voice said, “Mrs. Underwood is here to see you, Chief. She says it’s important.”
“Send her right in. Is Luke still in the building?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get him in here too.” Daniel released his hold on the button, cutting off the communication.
Daniel got up from behind his desk to open the door for the minister’s wife. She was wearing a dark green severely tailored suit with a crisp-looking white blouse. No coat was in evidence. Her hair was neatly in place although her pale green eyes were slightly bloodshot. Frown lines creased her forehead. Her lips were drawn into such a straight line they appeared almost invisible. She wore no makeup.
Luke slid into the room behind the woman, closing the door.
Daniel looked at the clock on his desk. It was two-twenty. The preacher was due at three. He wondered idly if Mrs. Underwood had informed her husband of this visit. He guessed not.
He excused himself and hurried out to tell Mindy that if Reverend Underwood arrived while Mrs. Underwood was still in his office, she should escort him upstairs to one of the interview rooms. He then came back into his office and closed the vertical blinds covering the large window next to the door. They now had complete privacy.
Luke and Mrs. Underwood were seated in the two chairs facing Daniel’s desk. Daniel slipped into his well-worn swivel chair. “Do you mind?” he asked Fran Underwood, indicating the tape recorder.
“Makes no difference to me now,” was her terse reply.
After turning on the recorder, Daniel stated the names of all present and the date. After that, he refocused his attention on the woman sitting across from him. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Underwood?”
“He made me lie,” she stated succinctly.
Daniel could see the anguish on her face. “Who made you lie? What did you lie about?” He felt his stomach tighten.
“Douglas. About him being with me in Marietta when poor Mr. Hatfield was murdered.” Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.
Luke quickly reached for the tissue box sitting on the corner of Daniel’s desk. Pulling one out, he handed it to Fran. She dabbed at her eyes and snuffled a few times.
She slowly shook her head. “I can’t live with these lies any longer. It’s all true. He was seeing that…woman, Susan Hatfield. I suspected as much for months. It was disgraceful.”
“Tell us about the afternoon Jerry Hatfield was killed,” Daniel said.
“There were things before that,” she said.
“Then start there,” Daniel told her.
Fran drew in a deep breath. “Douglas and I argued about…her…on Thursday night, before he left for the church. He never used to go near the church on choir practice night. He said the noise was too distracting for him to concentrate. All of a sudden, though, he was going down there every Thursday evening. I should have realized something was wrong. But I just couldn’t believe it was happening again.” She blew her nose, then looked around for somewhere to put the soiled tissue. Luke leaned forward and retrieved the wicker waste basket sitting next to Daniel’s desk, placing it beside her chair. She threw the used tissue into it.
Daniel made a mental note—So the rumors were true. Underwood has cheated before.
Fran continued. “He promised when we moved here that those days were over. He promised!” She pounded one fist on her lap.
Luke handed her the tissue box. She blew her nose again, disposing of the used tissue in the waste basket.
Once Fran composed herself, she said, “I didn’t go to the church on Saturday. Friday was quite enough for me, thank you very much. Watching that woman flaunt herself around, casting glances at Douglas, mooning around like a forlorn romance novel heroine. It was deplorable. I left early on Friday with a migraine, as a matter of fact. There was no way I was going to put myself through that again on Saturday, so I stayed home.
“Around twelve-thirty I decided to
go into Marietta. I assumed Douglas would be at the church all day because of the bazaar. I spent the afternoon shopping. I also had a late lunch at a small cafe there. I returned home around six. Douglas came home shortly thereafter. He was frantic. It soon became obvious to me he had not been at the church all afternoon. He said he’d heard about Mr. Hatfield’s murder on the car radio on his way home. I hadn’t heard about it at all until he told me. I didn’t have my car radio on and I’d shut my cell phone off before leaving home.”
Daniel asked, “Why didn’t you leave your cell on?” He’d doubted her first explanation that her battery was running low. Fran Underwood didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would neglect to recharge her cell phone.
Fran sighed and her face colored a little. “I lied about that on Saturday night. My cell phone was in perfect working order. I just didn’t want Douglas to be able to reach me. I guess I wanted him to know what it felt like to wonder where his spouse was.”
“Any particular reason to think he might want to reach you by phone that afternoon?” Luke asked.
“Douglas always needed me to do something for him. Usually something that served his purposes. He insisted that I be available at all times.”
“Please continue,” Daniel urged.
“He saw the packages I’d brought home from the mall in Marietta. They were sitting on the sofa. Christmas presents. I could see the wheels turning in his brain. He demanded that I tell anyone who asked that we’d made that shopping trip together. When I asked him why, he grabbed my arms and shook me. His face was red as a beet. He told me to do as he said and not ask questions unless I wanted to be humiliated in front of the whole town.”
“Didn’t you ask him where he’d been all afternoon?” Daniel asked.
“I didn’t have to. There were only two choices. Either he’d been with that harlot, or he’d murdered Mr. Hatfield and needed me as an alibi.” She met Daniel’s gaze. “Frankly, it is irrelevant to me now which scenario is true.”
Luke cleared his throat. “You know about spousal privilege, don’t you, Mrs. Underwood?”
She squared her shoulders, sitting up straight in the chair. “As a matter of fact, I do. My brother, Alex, is an attorney. It applies to things discussed between spouses—the fact that they are privileged communications. However, what I’m telling you today doesn’t seem to fall under that stipulation. I’m not revealing any confidences Douglas shared with me. I’m simply telling you that I went to Marietta alone but was asked to lie about it. Besides, isn’t it legal to revoke spousal privilege if one spouse refuses the keep the confidence? From what I understand, in our state a spouse can break spousal privilege if he or she wishes to do so.”