5 Windy City Hunter (18 page)

“I knew Wes Bradley,” she said. “He had come to the condo on several occasions for the insurance company, and Penelope liked him. Not as much as Jack Tapley, but she liked attention from men. I told my brother about Wes, and suggested he get in touch with him. I thought maybe he might have an idea how to shake some money from Penelope.”

Her voice changed, and she seemed more agitated.

“Those two idiots came up with a scheme to steal some of Penelope’s diamonds. They made me take some loose diamonds one day when Penelope was napping. I took them the day before she had appointments downtown with her investment banker. That way, when she discovered them missing, it would be after she had been out for several hours, and she would assume someone broke in and stole them. It was two days later when she noticed they were gone, and she called the police. Of course, the police didn’t have anything to go on, and a few days later, she filed a claim with Wes for the insurance. It was for fifty thousand dollars.”

She stopped for a few moments. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t want to tell me the rest of it, or if she was running it through her mind.

“Wes brought the check around last week and gave it to Penelope, but he came back two days later and told her that he heard on the street a guy running drugs out of a bar downtown had her diamonds. He said if she would give him the fifty thousand, he could get the diamonds back. She was thrilled. Her diamonds were more important to her than anything in the world, and she liked the idea she wouldn’t be out any money or her diamonds. It was a perfect insurance scam, and it worked. Wes had the cash from Penelope, and my brother had the diamonds, but then Wes killed Penelope.

They met at the restaurant as originally planned, and they made the swap, but Wes told my brother what happened. He had been searching Penelope’s condo looking for The Queen necklace. He wanted the bigger score and the insurance money from that diamond. Penelope went out one afternoon, and Wes let himself into her condo to search for the necklace, but Penelope forgot a package she wanted to mail, and she went back. When she found Wes snooping around, she threatened to turn him in to the police and the insurance company. He panicked and hit her over the head with a statue. That’s why you saw him in the hallway when she was murdered. He asked my brother if he wanted in on the necklace if he could find it, but my brother doesn’t want to be involved with a murderer, so he said no.”

She flinched and looked over her shoulder again. I thought I heard a muffled noise from the direction of the bedroom.

“If I wouldn’t have taken the diamonds, none of this would have happened, and Penelope would still be alive,” she said. “My brother has already left the country, but you tell that detective friend of yours it’s Wes Bradley they should be putting in jail for the murder of Penelope Fisher.”

She stood, walked over to the door, and opened it. “That’s all, Susan. You need to go now. I have things to do.”

I walked to the door and stepped into the hall. I turned and said, “Thank you for telling me, Martha. I’ll see if my friend -”

She slammed the door shut. She didn’t even let me finish my sentence. I was slightly offended, but she had given me a lot of information.

I hurried down the hallway to the elevator. I wanted to be in the condo when Jack and Detective Bentley came back, and I wanted to call Mick to find out if he was flying to Chicago for sure.

In the elevator, I thought about what Martha had said. Wes had access to the insurance records, and he would know about the necklace and its value. He had shown no emotion when Martha opened the door to Mrs. Fisher’s body on the floor, and that’s why I saw the gorilla head yesterday. He was still searching for the necklace. It all made perfect sense.

But there was still something wrong. What was it? Did Wes think Jack might have the necklace in his condo? Was that who was at the door in the middle of the night when we first arrived? Was it Wes I saw at the end of the hallway and not Martha’s brother?

The elevator doors opened, and I made my way down the hall. As before, I stopped at Mrs. Fisher’s doorway and listened. I don’t know what I thought I was going to hear. I turned the handle. It was still locked. I crossed the hall to our condo and let myself in.

I headed for the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I looked in what I presumed would be the kitchen junk drawer, but it was full of scissors and knives. Who needed that many pairs of scissors? I tried another drawer and found what I was looking for – a notepad and pencil. I took all three items to the living room, and settled onto the sofa. With the possibility of Mick and Darby both being here today, I knew there would be a lot of talking and sharing of stories and details about what had happened this weekend. I was afraid I would forget something if I didn’t write it down while it was fresh in my mind. I also wanted to have everything written down to give to Detective Malloy before we left the city.

At the top of the notepad, I wrote in large letters
Wes Bradley killed Penelope Fisher
. I underlined and circled the sentence. Then I wrote:
Confession of Martha, Mrs. Penelope Fisher’s Assistant
. I started writing down bullet points for the information Martha had given me.

The picture was crystal clear. Wes was not a nice guy. He must have pulled this insurance scam before to have handled it so easily. If Detective Malloy looked into his work history, would he find any more skeletons in Wes’s closet – literally?

With the notes completed, I went to grab my phone to call Mick.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and punched in the number. Images of Jack snuggling with me in the bed flashed through my mind, and I felt uncomfortable talking with Mick while I sat on the bed. I went back out to the living room. Laughter started to bubble up again just thinking about the situation, but I swallowed hard a couple of times and took a drink of water from the bottle. I didn’t want to be laughing when Mick answered the call.

I moved to stand in front of the windows and looked out onto the view. The sun wasn’t shining, but the day was bright, and sparse snowflakes fell ever so slowly. Today felt like the holidays again for me.

“Hello,” said a female voice. Her British accent was instantly recognizable.

“Hi,” I said. “This is Susan. Is Mick there?”

“I’m sorry,” the voice said. “He’s not in right now. He has gone out for the day with Carol Bennington. May I take a message?”

Carol Bennington? Who in the world was Carol Bennington, and why was Mick out with her for the day? My stomach flopped over.

“Is Mrs. Raines in? Or is Alex there?” I asked.

“Mr. and Mrs. Raines have taken Master Alex to the ballet for a showing of The Nutcracker,” the voice said.

I was obviously talking to a servant, but I was surprised at the level of information she was sharing.

“Do you know when Mick will be back?” I asked.

“I don’t believe he will be coming back today,” the voice said. “Ms. Bennington said she would return tomorrow.”

My heart was racing, and I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. Mick obviously wasn’t coming to Chicago today. I had called this number before, but he had always been expecting my call, and had answered the phone. This was the first time I had spoken to someone from the household. I was stunned into silence.

“Would you care to leave a message?” the voice asked again.

I couldn’t bring myself to say good-bye to the woman. I snapped my phone shut, and walked over to the sofa. I sat down hard, leaned back, and closed my eyes. I was so tired of tears, but they were coming anyway. They streamed from the outer corners of my eyes and down the sides of my face. I didn’t even attempt to brush them away.

Didn’t that woman know I was Mick’s wife? What was the point of telling me he was out with another woman? I hated her. And I hated Carol Bennington. And I hated feeling jealous. This was the worst feeling in the world. There simply had to be a reasonable explanation. Mick would never allow himself to be put in a compromising position with another woman. But, then, he would say the same thing about me, and I had just spent the night sleeping with Jack Tapley. The tears came harder, and I knew I was going to have to ride the jag out.

When the crying passed, I washed my face and freshened my makeup. I hadn’t heard anything from Jack or Detective Bentley, and I couldn’t stay in the condo any longer. I was ready to start pacing and that would only serve to fuel my fears about what Mick was doing with, or to, the beautiful Carol Bennington, probably in an English cottage somewhere.

It was almost 1:00. I decided to run down and talk with Emma and Terry to pass time. I slipped my cell phone and the condo key in my cardigan pocket and stepped out into the hallway.

A few minutes later, I was standing at the reception counter in the lobby. Emma was on the telephone, and Terry was outside on the covered porch. Everyone who worked here was exceptionally nice. It would be fun to have them as friends on a daily basis, but I was ready to leave Chicago.

“Hi, Susan,” Emma said. “What’s the word on Darby today?”

“I’m waiting to hear,” I told her. “He’ll either be moved to a federal prison facility tomorrow or he’ll be set free. I don’t know how it all works, but we’ll know something today. I’m waiting for Detective Bentley to come back or call me.”

“I saw Jack Tapley leave with your detective friend this morning,” she said. A bright red blush crept into her face. “I hear he came home late last night. Did you get a chance to meet him?”

Did I dare tell her? I would be going back to Carbide City soon, and since Mick wasn’t coming here, she wouldn’t have any opportunity or reason to tell him about it. I leaned over the counter and said in a half-whisper, “Emma, that man got into bed with me last night!”

The flush spread to her neck. “No way!” she squealed.

“Yes way,” I said, laughing. I had always wanted to say that to someone.

“Susan, details!” she said. “I have to have details!” She leaned closer to me.

“There’s nothing much to tell,” I said. “He must have come home late. I was out like a light, and he got into his bed – with me in it. I never even knew he was there until I woke up this morning. But Emma,” I stopped for a moment and looked behind me to be sure no one was listening, “he was spooning me.”

“No way!” she squealed again.

I was laughing harder now and could only eke out, “Yes way.”

“What did you do?” she asked. Her eyes were wide, and I knew she was loving every bit of the story.

I managed to stop laughing and say, “When I realized it wasn’t Mick wrapped around me, but it was a strange man, I jumped out of bed and started screaming. Detective Bentley came running in with a baseball bat, and all Jack did was sit in the bed with a huge smile plastered across his face.”

Emma clapped her hands together like an excited child. Her delight set me laughing again. I was glad I had decided to tell her.

“Did you have clothes on?” she asked.

“Emma!” I said pretending to be shocked by her question. “Yes I did. Warm flannel pajamas, thank you very much. And before you ask, Jack only had a wee little bit of clothing on.”

“Oh, Susan,” she said. “That’s one of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard around here. And that it happened with you and that yummy Jack Tapley makes it even better. It’s like something out of a movie, or a book. You should write a book.”

We were both giggling like schoolgirls when Terry came into the building.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked cheerfully. A big smile was spread across his face, and his cheeks were rosier than usual today. I was still certain he was a retired Santa Claus. A real one.

Before I had a moment to shush her, Emma blurted out, “Jack came home last night and hopped into bed with Susan. When she woke up this morning, they were spooning!”

Now it was my turn to blush.

“Were you now?” Terry asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Terry, it was all a misunderstanding, and now,” I said as I shot a bug-eyed look Emma’s way, “if we can keep this between the three of us, I would appreciate it.”

Terry gave me a little salute. Emma giggled and said she would.

A tenant came through the doorway with boxes stacked high in her arms. The top three boxes fell to the lobby floor, and Terry scrambled to help her pick them up. He handed them to her once she was on the elevator. I glanced out the doors to the sidewalk and saw a man who looked like Martha’s brother walk by. Without saying a word, I dashed out the doors and stared after him. I couldn’t be sure, but I decided it wasn’t him, and I ran back into the building.

“Brrr,” I said, rubbing my arms. “It’s really cold out there.”

“Without a coat it is,” Terry said. “What were you looking at?”

“I wasn’t looking at anything,” I said. “I thought I saw Martha’s brother, but I was mistaken.”

“He’s still in the building,” Emma said.

I gave her a puzzled look. “In the building? Are you sure?” I asked. “Martha said he left the country.”

“No,” she said. “He’s been here every day since Penelope died. Martha must be terribly upset, and I think he’s been coming by to keep her company.”

Martha had lied about her brother. She had admitted her part in the scheme, but why did she feel the need to protect her brother by saying he was out of the country? Especially if Wes was the murderer?