Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 01 - Murder Off the Books (25 page)

“The missing $500,000?” Greeley asked.

“Yeah, it was about that much–adding the Computer Doctor invoices and the DMG ones. I got into the Computer Doctor account and saw one of the altered mailing addresses before Malwick had time to change it back. I hid copies of what I found in another unrelated file.”

“What did you do then,” Mac interjected.

Greeley
glared at the private detective, but motioned Thayer to answer.

“I asked Angela Lopez if she’d seen any recent invoices from DMG and Computer Doctors. She showed me her books. The ones I saw weren’t in there. Malwick had to be the one ripping off the college and then covering his tracks.”

“So you confronted him?” Mac guessed. “Instead of calling the police, you tipped him off that you knew what he was doing.”

 
Dan flushed. “I didn’t think things were going to get out of control. I’d heard about the anonymous e-mail to Jack Starling and I thought Malwick’s embezzlement was going to be exposed. So yeah, at that point I decided to tell him what I knew.”

“So that was Friday,”
Greeley said.

Mac leaned forward. “Ganseco hasn’t found the money in any of Malwick’s bank accounts. Where–”

“Hey. This is my interview.” Greeley shot a fierce look at Mac, then turned back to Thayer,

Thayer nodded. “I confronted him on Friday. You’ve got to understand. Malwick was a son of a bitch under the best of circumstances, and we’d already had several run-ins that week about him stealing credit for my software.”

“So you were pissed,” Greeley said.

“Yes.”

Greeley followed up quickly. “Pissed enough that you might have lost your temper? Maybe threatened him?”

“No. I
….” Thayer twisted his hands together. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“We’ve got a witness who swears that less than week before Malwick was offed, you threatened Malwick.”
Greeley moved in for the kill. “Did you? Did you scream out, ‘I’ll make you wish you’d never met me’?”

***

“Out here,” Fieldstone ordered, herding the two women back into the main office and closing the door to the back room, muffling the dog’s howling. “Sit next to Mrs. Brenner.”

When everyone was arranged to Fieldstone’s satisfaction, she stood in front of the group, pointing her gun at Rachel. “I feel that it’s only fair to explain that I’m not a very patient person. I’ve spent years working on that flaw, but what can I say? I failed.”

Fieldstone smiled again, and Rachel was reminded of those nature shows on public television stations–the ones where the alligator placidly lies on the riverbank, waiting for prey to get close.

“I will not tolerate lies. If you lie to me, someone will get hurt. If you lie to me twice, someone is going to get killed.” Fieldstone took a step closer to the group. “Now, who doesn’t understand? Raise your hands.”

Rachel felt Kathleen’s growing anger begin to override the fear that they’d all been feeling.

JJ must have felt it too, Rachel decided, because the girl shifted her body, so that she was sitting on the balls on her feet, ready to escape if the worst happened.

Fieldstone’s eyes darted towards the girl.

“We understand,” Rachel said, trying to distract the woman’s attention from the other two. It worked, too well, Rachel realized as the Fieldstone’s expression darkened.

“Didn’t I say ‘no talking’?” Fieldstone reached into her jacket pocket and brought out a metal cylinder. “I really thought I’d mentioned that rule earlier.”

The three women stared in horror at Fieldstone as she proceeded to screw the cylinder onto the end of the gun barrel.

She pointed the gun at Rachel. “Hold up your hand, dear.”

Rachel slowly held up her right hand.

“Spread your fingers. I don’t want to blow off more than one or two for such a tiny mistake.”

“You crazy bitch,” JJ screamed. Springing forward, she knocked the woman backwards.

A single pop echoed though the empty room.

Whiskey’s howls increased. Everyone could hear the dog gnawing and scratching at the bathroom door, as though trying to eat her way through the wood.

Before Kathleen and Rachel could get to her, Fieldstone had regained control of the situation. She fired once at the women’s feet, the bullet striking the wood with a dull thud. “Stay back.”

Rachel calculated the odds if she and Kathleen…no. They wouldn’t be able to move fast enough, not without the element of surprise. Maybe not even then. It didn’t take long to pull a trigger.

Fieldstone brushed a hand over her hair, smoothing it down. She then tugged on her jacket bottom, saying, “Rule number 3–no vulgar language.”

“Oh, my god.” Kathleen’s gasp drew Rachel and Fieldstone’s gaze to JJ’s unmoving body and the spreading red stain.

***

Silence blanketed the interrogation room.

Mac noted that Greeley had ensnared Thayer with his own words. The assistant comptroller had publicly threatened to kill his boss, and less than a week later Malwick was dead.

Thayer started to stand, but the fierce look on
Greeley’s face settled him back down. “Yes, I said that–but only because of the software thing.”

Greeley
lowered his voice. “So let me get this straight. Malwick grabbed the credit for something you’d been working on for several months. He publicly humiliated you and then, in front of everyone, fired you–and twenty-four hours later, he’s dead. But you know nothing about his death?”

Thayer sat speechless.

Greeley continued, relentless in his accusations. “In fact, on that Friday you were afraid that he was setting you up to take the rap for the missing money. You knew no one would believe your word over his. That you’d be sent to prison for stealing a half million–”

Thayer suddenly found his voice. “But I couldn’t have stolen the money. It’s been going on for years.”

“Maybe you and Malwick were working this scam together,” Greeley accused. “Maybe you got greedy and wanted a big chunk of money up front in order to remain quiet. You tampered with the accounts and withdrew too much–”

“No. I’m telling you that I never took a dime,” Thayer cried out.

“Then how did you afford the cruise with your lover and the jeep for your sister?” Giles interjected.

Thayer threw up his hands in frustration. “I was making a decent salary for the first time in my life. That was my money.”

Greeley abruptly switched gears. “Where were you on Friday night from nine to midnight?”

“At home.”

“Can anyone verify that?”

Thayer looked down at the table. “No.”

“No phone calls, no pizza deliveries? No girlfriend?” Mac suggested, ignoring Greeley’s sound of irritation.

“No.”

“What about last Tuesday night? Where were you?” Mac asked.

Thayer looked a little sick. “I was staying in the barn at the farm near Warrenton.”

“Alone?” Greeley questioned.

“Yeah. Barns aren’t very popular for entertaining,” Thayer joked.

“So you don’t have an alibi for Malwick’s murder nor for Lopez’s.” Giles folded her arms across her chest. “You’re a real unlucky guy. Or a cold blooded murderer telling conspiracy stories.”

“Someone is setting me up,” Thayer exclaimed. “That’s why they put the gun in my car. They wanted me to look
….”

Greeley
smiled. “Gun? A 9mm, I presume.”

Thayer looked at Mac, desperation clouding his eyes. “Make them understand. Please.”

Mac took a deep breath. “A witness saw you bury a gun in your sister’s flowerbed the Saturday after Malwick was killed. Did you go back and retrieve it before you shot Lopez?”

Mac felt
Greeley’s eyes on him. He knew he was going to catch hell for not passing on Edgar’s information. Of course if the police department hadn’t put the old man on hold… Nah, that wasn’t going to get him off the hook.

***

“So messy,” Fieldstone mused, staring at the still body of the young girl. “Now Mr. Sullivan will have to have the floor bleached. Blood is very difficult to clean up.”

“You shot her!” Rachel exclaimed. She peered into hard blue eyes and suddenly comprehended that it really didn’t matter at all to the woman if they lived or died.

“Yes,” Fieldstone replied, pointing the gun at Rachel. “I’ve shot lots of people. And I don’t mind adding you and your friend to my list, if you don’t do exactly what I tell you to do.”

“Go ahead and shoot me then,” Kathleen said, walking deliberately across the few feet separating them and kneeling down beside JJ. She tugged off her sweater and then unbuttoned her white cotton blouse.

Fieldstone trained the gun on Kathleen’s pale back as the woman tried to staunch JJ’s bleeding with her blouse.

Rachel saw the woman’s finger caressing the trigger. “Please,” she begged, again trying to divert the Fieldstone’s attention. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just let Kathleen help her.”

Fieldstone smiled. “Fine. I’m a reasonable person. Give me the key and I’ll be on my way. I’ll leave all of you tied up and I’ll even call 9-1-1 once I’m out of state.”

“Key?” The only key Rachel could think of was the keychain of Dan’s that she’d found beside Tia’s body. “You want the key that Dan–”

“Yes, of course. Give it to me.”

Rachel shook her head. “It’s at my house. I hid it there after the police search.”

Fieldstone stroked the barrel of the gun against her left forearm as she seemed to consider her options.

“Get dressed, Mrs. O’Herlihy. We’re going to take a road trip.”

The sound of Whiskey’s barking followed the women down the hallway towards the staircase. Kathleen and Rachel carried a semi-conscious JJ; both women’s clothes were spotted with the girl’s blood. Audrey Fieldstone walked behind them, her gun trained on Rachel.

“Stop.”

Rachel turned her head so she could see the older woman.

Fieldstone waved her gun towards the abandoned office on the left. “Take her in there.”

“We’re not going to leave her,” Kathleen protested. “She might bleed–”

“Shut up,” Fieldstone snapped. “I’m not going to have her bleeding in my car. As the kids say, ‘been there, done that’.”

“We can take my car,” Kathleen countered. “Please, she’s just a kid.”

Rachel knew the answer without waiting for Fieldstone. She’d seen the ‘kid’ that Fieldstone had already killed.

“In there, now. Unless you want me to put another bullet in her.” Fieldstone walked closer, the gun aimed at JJ’s head.

Rachel began shuffling backwards into the empty office, her feet stirring up dust that hadn’t been disturbed in years. Kathleen, supporting JJ’s head, was forced to follow.

Fieldstone surveyed the dimly lit room, the windows smeared gray with dirt and grime. “Put her on the floor.”

Rachel knelt down and looked at JJ’s wound. Most of the bleeding had stopped except for some oozing over a rib. She noted that Kathleen’s shirt had been lost at some point during the move.

“How is she?” Kathleen asked, Fieldstone standing close behind her.

Rachel shook her head and took off her jacket. She spread it over the girl’s torso. “I think she’s in shock. She’s bleeding badly.”

Rachel kept her eyes trained on Kathleen willing her to understand the truth.

Kathleen nodded. “So there’s nothing more we can do for her?”

Rachel lowered her head and leaned over the body. “I’m afraid not.” She adjusted the jacket over the girl’s shoulder, the cloth hiding the motion of her fingers as she slipped off her bracelet.

They left the room, Fieldstone taking the time to pull the door closed behind them.

Chapter
34

“Well, that’s the end of that.” Greeley turned off the speaker. “Any reason why I shouldn’t throw you into jail for interfering in a police investigation?”

Mac had been expecting the question ever since he’d disclosed the information about the buried gun. “Can I get back to you on that? Maybe next week after I pick up some of those cigars you like?”

Greeley grunted. “Think Ms. Adams was part of the frame?”

“So you believe Thayer too?” Mac was unsuccessful at hiding a smile.

“If Roseanne can ever manage to get me a background check on Thayer’s alibi witness and if the witness is willing to support Thayer’s claims about where he was when Tia Hu was killed–then, I believe him.” Greeley sighed.

“I’ll bet my retainer that Thayer didn’t make up Sophia Fernandez and her family. He’s got a pretty good recall of the woman, where she lives, where she works, and the grade point averages of all her exceptionally bright grandchildren.”

Greeley nodded. “Hopefully Mrs. Fernandez spent some of the bus ride paying attention to what her seatmate looked like. If she can identify him, he’s in the clear as far as the murders, since the same gun was used in all three. Oh, hell, he’s probably innocent of embezzlement too.”

“It always comes back to the money,” Mac mused. “Thayer was probably hired to
…. He was hired by Malwick to….” He tried to replay the interrogation in his mind. There was something that Thayer had said about how he was hired that didn’t match.

Greeley
watched the detective closely. “I’ve seen that expression before–just before you solved the Ruttan murder. What are you thinking?”

“I need to talk to Thayer again. Confirm something he said earlier.”

Greeley shook his head. “Right now he’s upstairs being processed.”

“What charge?”

“1st degree stupidity.” Greeley bit off the end of the cigar he’d been holding. “I want him locked up until we catch the killer–for his own good.”

“Mac?”

Mac turned as Jeff called his name again.

Detective Bobbie Everette was escorting Jeff down the hallway.

“I can’t find Kathleen anywhere. No one here has seen either her or Mrs. Brenner.”

Mac pulled out his cell phone and hit the redial button. “What’s the big emergency? Can’t find your favorite shirt?”

“Bridget’s eloping. Maura spilled the beans to Mary Kathleen who told Sean.”

“Sean told you?”

“Damn right he told me.”

Mac raised a hand to hush his angry friend. “Are you sure that
….” Mac paused as he heard someone answer the funeral home phone.

“O’Herlihy Funeral Home.”

“Myrna, this is Mac Sullivan again. Rachel hasn’t shown up at the police station. Do you have any other information on where she might be?”

“Mr. Sullivan, I’m really busy right now. I’ve got cats running all over the place. The Tuckman service is about to start and Mr. O’Herlihy isn’t here.”

“This is important. Rachel’s son is in a jail cell waiting for her.”

“Okay, let me check. Here’s her cell phone. She must have laid it down
…. Oh, there’s another cat. I need–”

Mac groaned, realizing that the damn stray cat was complicating his life again. “Tell me again where Rachel said she was going? Exactly.”

Jeff tugged on Mac’s jacket. “Ask her about Kathleen.”

“I will if she ever comes back on the–”

“Hold on Mr. Sullivan, I’m going to check her office. She mentioned something to Mrs. O’Herlihy about leaving the address on her desk.”

Mac covered the receiver with his hand. “She’s checking for an address Rachel wrote down. I don’t think she was headed here.”

“Where else would she go?” Greeley asked. “The news of her brother’s arrest is all over the television.”

“I don’t know.” Mac turned his attention back to the phone. “Yes, Myrna. I’m here.”

“There was a note on her desk. Says 60… I can’t read the next number…then 5 New York Avenue.”

“Thanks.” Mac disconnected the phone and dialed a number he was very familiar with. “Rachel was headed for my office.” He listened to the phone ring about a dozen times, then disconnected the call. “JJ might have knocked the phone off the hook. She’s in her Martha Stewart phase in my office.”

Jeff turned to leave. “I’m going over there.”

Mac faced
Greeley. “Let me know when I can see Thayer, I’m going to check that everything is okay at my place.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you think you know,”
Greeley suggested as he strode after Mac. “I can talk to Thayer.”

“I’m not sure yet what I know,” Mac replied, weaving his way though the crowded lobby.

“Just tell me what you’re thinking!”

Mac pushed open the lobby door and saw Jeff staring with disgust at four flat tires on his limo.

***

“Uncle Dan?” Sam gingerly pushed open the door to the interrogation room. His uncle was seated on the wooden bench in the cage, but the steel-barred door was open.

Thayer slowly opened his eyes, and then smiled. “Hey kiddo, you okay? They didn’t charge you with anything?”

“I’m fine. No charges,” Sam whispered, standing uneasily outside the door of the holding cell. “Should I come in there?” he gestured with his hand, “Or are you allowed out?”

Thayer shrugged. “Not sure.”

“So they haven’t actually charged you with
….”

Thayer shook his head. “I think they believe me, but they won’t let me go and they did take fingerprints. I’m waiting for your mother.” He stopped rambling and looked up into the confused eyes of his nephew. “Come here,” Thayer motioned, and then patted the space next to him on the bench.

Sam took a seat next to his uncle. “This is an unholy mess.”

Thayer tousled his nephew’s unruly curls and smiled. “Yeah, it sure is.”

Embarrassed, Sam shook off his uncle’s affectionate gesture. “What’s going to happen?”

“Well, first you’re going to get on the next train to
Philadelphia and get your ass back to school.”

Sam stiffened. “No way. I’m not leaving you.”

“Yeah, you are. This unholy mess might take weeks to sort out and you’ve already missed too much time.”

“I’ll make up the work,” Sam insisted.

“Hell, I’m not worried about classes, that’s your mom’s job,” Thayer said with a grin. “You’ve missed too many parties, too many football games, too many women who are hot for your body.”

Sam blushed furiously.

“Now listen to me,” Thayer said, his voice dropping its playful tone. “I screwed up by getting you involved in this mess to begin with. I put you, your friends, and your mom in danger because I was too proud and smug to get help when I needed it. It stops now.”

“But I want to
….” Sam interrupted.

Thayer sighed and put his arm around his nephew’s thin shoulders. “Yeah, I know what you want, Sam, my man. But for a change, you going to listen to your old uncle and do what he asks.”

Sam locked eyes with his uncle, then after several moments nodded in agreement. “Okay, but I want to stay until Mom gets here. Once I’ve passed the baton to her….” He smiled.

Dan snorted. “Your Mom is going to beat me black and blue with
 that
 baton. You’d better take off before it’s your turn.”

Sam joined his uncle in laughter. “Yeah, hell hath no fury like Rachel Brenner on the warpath.”

***

“What happened?” Mac asked as he and
Greeley joined Jeff on the curb.

Jeff glared at him. “Somehow this is your fault. I’ve changed more tires since you opened your damn detective business than I’ve done in my entire life.”

“Hey, Mac,” Bobbie Everette yelled across the parking lot.

Mac turned and located her.

“Isn’t that your ride?” She pointed to the bug-mobile and the maniacal little man, wearing a hat with a cockroach on top, who was revving the motor.

“Frank Flynn,” Jeff shouted, his face turning beet red. “Shoot him,
Greeley. Shoot him or loan me your gun and I’ll do it myself.”

Greeley
laughed and called to the young policeman exiting the building along with Tom Atwood, “Officer Bryant, we’ve got a stolen vehicle and destruction of private property. Go haul in that bug-mobile and the big bug in the driver’s seat.” Greeley pointed to the vehicle that seemed to be stuck in first gear as it moved down the street.

Officer Bryant beamed and took off running down the street, easily catching the truck before the end of the block.

“Hell,” Greeley chuckled, watching the young officer hop up on the running board and convince Flynn to stop the truck. “He could have taken a squad car. That boy is way too eager to please.”

“Yeah, once he realizes that detectives have worse hours than patrol officers and the pay is just as lousy, he’ll get over that gung-ho attitude,” Mac mumbled before turning back towards his old friend. He clapped a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Why don’t you let Flynn have the truck? It’s not worth the aggravation. Let’s go find Kathleen and Rachel.”

“And how might we be getting there?” Jeff asked, watching as Joe Bryant handcuffed Flynn and started marching him back to the police station. “That little bug flattened my tires.”

Tom Atwood joined their group and volunteered to drive. “I need to ask you some questions about Lenore Adams, anyway. How she met Thayer doesn’t match with what he’s saying. Just a minor point but you have to wonder why someone would lie about–”

“Wait.” Mac held up a hand to quiet the police detective. “There was something….” He turned to Jeff and Greeley. “I need to run and ask Thayer a quick question. Won’t take but a few minutes.”

Jeff glanced at his watch. “Hurry up then. Or I’ll go without you.”

“Tom, walk Mac up. Thayer’s probably meeting with his nephew now.”

Mac looked at his old boss in astonishment.

Greeley coughed. “Okay, so maybe I’m the one getting soft. I thought it would settle the kid down if he saw his uncle was all in one piece.”

“Works for me.” Mac turned from
Greeley to Tom. “Let’s go.”

“Hey,”
Greeley laid a hand on Mac’s arm. “After you see Thayer and check out your office, I want you back here. No more lone ranger stuff. You tell me everything.”

Mac nodded. “Will you make sure Ray and Carrie have a ride?”

“Sure,” Greeley grumbled. “I run an all purpose travel agency.”

***

“I should kill you right now.” Fieldstone pushed the barrel of her gun against the back of Kathleen’s head. “Then shoot a few dozen of those protesters out there.”

“Do you have that many bullets?” Kathleen flinched as Fieldstone jabbed the barrel forward against her scalp.

“You said turn on Massachusetts Avenue,” Rachel said. “She just did what you told her to do.”

“I don’t like her attitude,” Fieldstone responded, glancing over at Rachel who was in the front passenger seat. She turned back to Kathleen, who was driving, and poked her again. “Did you hear me? I don’t like your attitude.”

“Ouch.” Kathleen took one hand off the steering wheel and rubbed the back of her head. “And I don’t like your–”

“I’m sure the police will clear a lane soon,” Rachel interrupted. “It’s just some kind of protest–they’re marching to the Brazilian embassy.”

Fieldstone discreetly lowered the gun and looked out the window at the marchers, most with hand-printed placards. “Ethanol? They’re protesting ethanol imports from Brazil? These people need to get a life.”

“They’re corn farmers from
Minnesota,” Kathleen offered, looking at Fieldstone in the rearview mirror.

Fieldstone glared at her. “My point exactly. A farmer’s life is no life at all. Everyday is exactly the same. Your life revolves around tending to crops or animals–to their needs–instead of your own. Feeding, shoveling, feeding some more, shoveling some more. You wake up the next day and start all over again. That’s not living.”

“And being a murderer and a thief are better career choices?” Rachel asked, her tone sarcastic.

Fieldstone laughed but her eyes turned icy.

“They pay better. You know what? You’re funny.” Fieldstone nodded at Rachel but raised the gun to the back of Kathleen’s head again. “You….” She glared at Rachel and lightly tapped the back of Kathleen’s head with the end of the gun barrel.

“Are
….” She tapped Kathleen’s head again. “A funny….” Another tap. “Funny lady.”

“Hey,” Kathleen yelped, as she threaded the car though the crowds. “Why are you hitting me? I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re within easy reach and I don’t like you.”

“The feeling is mutual. But if you keep doing that I’m going to run over someone.”