Ting-A-Ling (19 page)

Louie shot me a quick glance.

“A dancer, one can only imagine,” Manning said. He nodded, but didn’t make a note. Instead, he reached for the manila envelope lying next to his file. He gently held the thing and carefully reached his hand inside treating whatever was in the envelope like it contained all of his future hopes and dreams. He began to pull his hand out of the envelope, but stopped midway. The envelope had some sort of bar code sticker affixed to the upper left hand corner and below that a six digit number written in black marker. I caught the hint of a plastic bag grasped in Manning’s hand.

“Mr. Haskell, I’m wondering if you would be able to help us identify this item. Let the record show this is evidence file number one-three-two-zero-zero-nine,” Manning said, reading the number off the envelope. Then he pulled the plastic evidence bag from the manila envelope. There was a black leather belt rolled up inside the evidence bag. The belt had a silver buckle sporting a Celtic design.

Manning didn’t have to remove the belt from the plastic bag. The moment I saw it I already knew the belt had a silver buckle as well as a tab with a Celtic knot design. The black leather was an inch and a half wide and expertly hand tooled, with a fairly involved Celtic border design that butted either side of script letters spelling out
Devlin Haskell,
my name, across the back of the belt.

My pal Bobby had made the belt for me maybe two years ago. My mind wandered back to the last time I’d seen the thing. Danielle was wearing it along with a contented smile. We’d been playing bucking bronco, her idea, and I had been hanging on for all I was worth.

“Mr. Haskell?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just thinking. Well, that would appear to be a belt like one I had.”

“Do you think it might be the same belt?”

“Possibly.”

“I wonder if we might examine that a little closer, Detective,” Louie asked and extended his hand across the table.

“By all means, please, be my guest.”

“Dev?” Louie placed the plastic bag in front of me and looked at me hopefully.

There was a slim, half-percent chance there might be two belts like this in the world. Two guys in town with a belt that had my name tooled across the back of it. That chance quickly disappeared when I saw my phone number written on the inside of the belt just next to the buckle.
“So when you leave it in the backseat of some woman’s car she can still call you and give it back,”
Bobby had joked. Only right now it wasn’t sounding quite as funny, sitting here in Interview Room Two.

“Does this belt look in any way familiar, Mr. Haskell?” Manning looked extremely pleased with himself, enjoying the moment.

“Yes, this is my belt. It’s been missing for a week, maybe two.”

“Really?” Manning smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve been looking for it.”

“Do you think it was stolen? Are you suggesting someone may have gained access to your home and stole this belt?”

“Well…”

“Did you report the break in?”

“Well…”

“You see Mr. Haskell, this belt was found in Mr. Hedstrom’s condominium. Under his bed, I believe our investigation indicates.” He smiled coldly, and then slid an evidence form across the table to me. Attached to the form was a photo of my belt lying under a bed. It was my turn to hit Louie on the thigh and I did, repeatedly.

“I wonder if I might have a private moment to discuss with my client,” Louie said.

“Certainly, five minutes enough time?” Manning asked just a little too sweetly for my taste.

Chapter Forty-Two

“Dev?” Louie stared at
me wide eyed. What the…”

“I know what you’re going to say, Louie.”

“Really?”

“Well...”

“Shut up and listen. How’d your belt get in Dick Head’s place? Were you ever actually in there?”

“No. Honest. I never met the guy. I’ve never been in his condo, ever.”

“Well, how in the hell did your belt end up under his damn bed?” Louie was red faced and almost shaking he was so mad.

“I don’t know. I mean it, Louie. I have absolutely no idea. The last time I saw that belt it was wrapped around Danielle’s waist.”

“God damn it, Dev.” He nodded toward my lap. “You ought to cut that damn thing off with all the trouble it gets you into.”

My eyes grew wide as I stared at him.

“I’m not kidding, when are you going to stop thinking with the wrong head? Damn it. Okay, let’s think here. I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet at this stage that Danielle is tied up with Dick Head somehow.”

“I guess so.”

“You think? Jesus Christ. Okay, first thing, her client privilege just went out the damn window. You’re giving her name to Manning.”

The door suddenly creaked open and Manning poked his bald head in. It had the look of a shinny globe, the ceiling light over the door reflected off his smooth, pink skin. “All set, gentlemen?”

“Another minute or two,” Louie half shouted over his shoulder.

“We’ll be out here in the hall, just knock on the door whenever you’re ready,” Manning said, sounding just a little too chipper for my taste. Then he pulled the door closed.

“Prick,” I said under my breath.

“I have a sick feeling he’s just getting warmed up,” Louie said. “Dev, you’ve been compromised here. I want you to give Manning any and all of your Danielle Roxbury information. At this stage, you’re not just aiding their investigation, you’re protecting yourself. Does the term ‘set-up’ have any connotations? Sorry to say, but I think this woman has been playing you like a fiddle. Your belt under Dick Head’s bed Jesus Christ.”

“I think…”

“Save it,” Louie said, then stood up, walked over and knocked on the door. “Ready whenever you are, Detective.”

Manning strolled in carrying his thick file in one hand and the manila evidence envelope with my belt in the other. He was looking fresh and happy. The uniformed officer stepped in behind him, closed the door and leaned back against the wall. The interview room suddenly seemed to smell of desperation.

“So, you were just about to tell me how your belt ended up beneath a bed in a condominium you’ve never been inside of.” Manning sat back, folded his arms and smiled contentedly. His eyes bored into me.

“Yeah, well, the only explanation I have is that I left that belt, my belt, at the home of my client. Her name is Danielle Roxbury. She’s the client we discussed the other day. The client I was representing when I met with Renee Paris and discussed his outstanding loan.”

“Really.” Manning nodded, but didn’t make any notes. It was almost as if he knew all this. He smiled again and looked comfortable with his arms contentedly folded across his chest.

I thought,
‘Oh, shit.’

“Oh, yes, that’s right, your so called
discussion
with Mr. Paris. That was the assault we viewed on the security tape, wasn’t it? At Casey’s? Just prior to the big fire there?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Haskell, would you speak up, please?

“Yes.”

“So, you were representing Danielle Roxbury at the time of that little incident?”

“Yes.”

“And she informed you that Mr. Paris was in debt to her for, I believe you stated in an earlier interview, a sum of fifty thousand dollars. Does that sound about right?”

“Yes, that’s the amount she told me.”

“A lot of money, fifty grand,” Manning said.

I nodded, and then absently said, “Yeah, all in cash.”

Louie’s head shot up with a very surprised look.

“Cash? Really? Did she happen to mention when this transaction occurred? When she gave Mr. Paris fifty-thousand-dollars in cash?”

“Not specifically, no. I, I guess she didn’t. She just sort of said sometime in the last year, I’m not sure. I never actually got an exact date.”

“What sort of documentation did she show you? A signed note? A letter of intent? Perhaps a securities pledge?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Really? Well, then, what documentation
did
she show you?”

“Actually, I sort of just took her at her word. She told me she had lent him the money and that Mr. Paris had promised to pay her back. Then she mentioned that she’d been unable to contact him and she felt he was avoiding her. She gave me a phone number to call along with his address.”

“Fifty thousand dollars. In cash. Wow, and she basically just handed it over. Does that strike you as strange, Mr. Haskell?”

“Well, yeah now that you mention it. I mean, I thought it was kind of different, you know when she told me.”

“Kind of different. She just gave the man fifty grand. Handed it over to him and then apparently just walked away without a care in the world.”

“I suppose in retrospect, yeah it does sound a little strange.”

Manning nodded like I was finally making sense. “But you trusted her?”

“Yes.”

“And even though she said she’s been unable to contact Mr. Paris, she just happened to have his address and phone number. And she passed them on to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you knock on Mr. Paris’s door?”

“No, I drove past his house, but it was vacant. It had been posted unfit by the city. I think it’s a category three building.”

Manning nodded. “And his phone?”

“That’s how I set up the appointment to meet him, I called the phone number.”

“The same number Danielle Roxbury gave you when she said she was unable to contact Mr. Paris? That phone number?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Oh?”

“See, the number she gave me didn’t work. So, I tracked him down through his business number. The one for his Bar-B-Que sauces, LuSifer’s. I got it from a grocery chain.”

“I see, and you spoke with him when you called?”

“No, I left a message, he returned my call that evening and we set up a meeting for the following afternoon.”

“How many times did you have to call him?”

“Just once.”

“Funny your client, Ms. Roxbury, had been unable to reach him.”

“I don’t know.”

“So, we saw the tape of your
meeting
with Mr. Paris. And then what? You gave Ms. Roxbury that personalized belt as a symbol of your trust and continued support?”

“Not exactly. I believe I just left that behind. I must have forgotten it at her home I guess. I sort of made a mental note to pick it up the next time we got together.”

Manning nodded again which made me even more worried.

“Fair to say you were in a sexual relationship with Ms. Roxbury?”

“Mmm-mmm, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You did have sex with her, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And just for the sake of argument, if you left your belt at her home, this wasn’t some fifteen second spur of the moment, wham-bam, flash in the pan now, was it?”

“Well, no, not exactly.”

“After all, Mr. Haskell, you’ve got a bit of a reputation. Fair to say Ms. Roxbury no doubt enjoyed herself?”

“Yes.” I nodded and smiled at the memory.

“Was that her form of payment to you? The sex.”

“What? Oh, no, Danielle, Ms. Roxbury paid me in cash. Ten hundred dollar bills, a thousand dollars.”

“In cash you say?”

“Yes. She delivered them herself.”

“Wow, cash seems to be how she likes to operate. Does that happen often in your line of work? Gosh, I can’t remember the last time I saw a grand in cash.”

“It happens once in a while. It’s not completely unusual.”

Manning looked down, flipped some pages in his file, and read for a moment while Louie and I exchanged glances. Manning looked back up at me with a puzzled expression on his face.

“See, our question is where would she have gotten a thousand dollars in cash? Or for that matter the fifty thousand you say she gave Mr. Paris?”

“I suppose she stopped at her bank and made a withdrawal.”

“Yeah, you’d think that, but her accounts have been closed for some time. As a matter of fact, her bank has initiated legal proceedings against her.”

“I think she has a trust fund, and well, she owns that big mansion.”

“Funny you should mention that. Actually, we’ve been looking, pretty thoroughly I might add, and we found no evidence of a trust fund, anywhere. I’m not suggesting one might not exist, but if it does we’ve been unable to find any record of it. Actually, the only bank accounts we found for Ms. Roxbury were closed by the bank over a year ago. She apparently took out an equity loan on her home back in 2006. She’s been in arrears on that property for over two years and the bank has begun foreclosure proceedings. Seems she’s also in arrears on her property taxes and Ramsey County has begun proceedings as well.”

“I, I had no idea.”