Death by Betrayal (Book #10 in the Caribbean Murder series) (11 page)

BOOK: Death by Betrayal (Book #10 in the Caribbean Murder series)
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“Leon
Tobitt,” Mattheus muttered.

“You
want me to join you?” Cindy asked quickly.

“Just
the opposite,” Mattheus answered promptly. “I want to connect with this guy
alone - just wanted to let you know where I am.”

“Thank
you,” whispered Cindy.

“How’s
it going on your end?” Mattheus seemed concerned.

“It’s
going,” Cindy replied. “Nothing great so far.”

“Boring?”
asked Mattheus.

“You
could say that,” answered Cindy surprised, upset to imply her sister’s life was
boring.

“Keep
at it,” Mattheus responded. “Remember, the real treasures are hidden in the
most boring places. You’ve got to earn them, dig them out, scrap by scrap.”

Despite
herself, Cindy smiled. Mattheus hit the spot again. He inspired her to keep
sloughing through endless details which didn’t seem to add up to anything,
until, suddenly they did.

“Thanks
for that, Mattheus,” Cindy commented.

“Look,
it can’t be easy investigating your own sister,” he answered.

“I
can’t find anything new about her,” Cindy said, frustrated.

“You
will,” Mattheus assured her. “Be patient and brave.”

*

Mattheus
took a cab down to Hedge Row Corner, where Leon Torbitt was known to operate.  The
neighborhood was situated near a dilapidated cove with a strange mixture of
fine homes and small, wooden houses built on the rim. Trage told Mattheus that
Leon could easily be found at this time of day at Manilla’s pub, on the eastern
coast. Mattheus couldn’t wait to see him and then get back to being with Cindy
again. It was incredible being with her and Mattheus wouldn’t part from her
again, ever. This case had to be solved and solved fast. He couldn’t bear
stretching out her suffering. After it was over they would start again,
completely new.

Mattheus
had the driver let him out a few blocks away, so he could walk into the pub
naturally. He wore jeans, rolled his shirt sleeves up over his elbows, and put
on a pair of sunglasses as he sauntered over.

Manilla’s
pub was oddly spacious, overlooking both water and a string of grimy boats.  Most
tables were now filled with locals, drinking beer, eating lunch, talking
noisily.

Mattheus
went directly to the bartender. “Leon Torbitt here yet?” he asked, as though he
were an expected guest.

The
bartender barely looked up. He had small, shifty eyes, a large square face and kept
moving a few glasses around on the bar. “Who’s asking?” he responded.

 “Mattheus. 
Tell Leon that Wilma suggested I talk to him.” Wilma was the name of Leon’s
sister. It was also the name of one of the women killed in the murders, though
Leon didn’t realize that.

The
bartender looked up at him then, suddenly interested. “Leon’s expecting you?”

Mattheus
shook his head.

The
bartender went to the back room and in a few minutes a smallish, thin guy in
tight pants and a black shirt came skirting out. It had to be Leon, thought
Mattheus.

The
bartender pointed towards Mattheus and the small guy looked at him puzzled.

Mattheus
stood up quickly, went over to him and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Leon
Torbitt?” he said.

“How
do you know my sister?” Leon answered, pushing Mattheus by the elbow over to a
side table. “What the hell does she want of me now?”

Mattheus
and Leon sat down at the table and looked into each other’s eyes. Mattheus felt
as if he’d known him forever, as if they’d been friends their whole life long.
Leon seemed incredibly comfortable with him as well

“Wilma
needs your help,” Mattheus said then in a confidential tone.

Leon’s
eyes opened for a second alarmed, then looked down. “If this is some kind of
joke, you’ll pay for it.”

“It’s
not a joke,” Mattheus, reassured him. “It’s not your sister either, it’s
another Wilma I’m talking about, a lady killed during the hotel murders.”

Leon’s
eyes opened even wider. “This some kind of scam?”

“I’m
trying to track down the hotel killer,” Mattheus replied, fully expecting Leon
to help him. “And I need your help.”

Despite himself, Leon laughed. “The
killings are over, it’s done and finished. And the idiots know

that
I had nothing to do with it. “You’re looking in the wrong place, buddy,” Leon
tapped both hands on the table a few times. “Those murders reek of big business
down here and everyone knows it. These rich guys got all kinds of women holed
up at expensive hotels. If you asked me, someone was getting revenge on someone
and taking a few of their women out. What the hell has that got to do with me?
M
e and my friends are completely
covered. We weren’t even down here when these killings took place.  Who sent
you down here?”

“Trage,”
said Mattheus.

“Police
Chief?” Leon looked surprised.

“Right.”

“Then
he’s more of an idiot than I even imagined,” said Leon. “He’s sending you on a
wild goose chase,  he knows we deal in other parts of the island.”

Mattheus
stopped and wondered if it could be so? “Why would he do that?” Mattheus asked
quietly.

“It’s
easy to blame everything on the drug trade, isn’t it?” Leon responded, “but
drug guys don’t kill one dame after another, it’s not our style. Besides the
killings are over.”

 “No,
they’re not,” Mattheus proclaimed swiftly.  

“What
do you mean?” Leon looked perturbed.

“And
I’m offering you complete immunity,” Mattheus continued.

 “You
cracked or something?” Leon scanned Mattheus closely. “Immunity for what?”

“For
talking to me,” said Mattheus, “telling me everything you know. A few days ago,
another woman was killed. I’m a private detective and the woman who was killed
was my partner’s sister.”

Leon
looked genuinely distressed. “Sorry to hear that,” he muttered.

“Sorry
isn’t the word for it,” Mattheus felt himself getting tight. “She was killed in
her bed while down here on vacation with her husband.”

“Listen
fella, and listen good,” Leon broke in fast. “We’ve got our hands in plenty of
stuff, but nothing to do with those killings. I like women, I don’t kill them. Sorry
about your partner’s sister, I hadn’t even heard it happened again.”

Mattheus felt his genuine upset. “Help
me find out who did it,” Mattheus suddenly pleaded.

“If
you ask me, it’s a wild card. And I’ll tell you something else that’s no
mystery. Those damn murders will never get solved. They were an inside job if I
ever saw one.”

“That’s
not enough, I need more than that,” Mattheus pleaded.

“Why
not see who those dead dames had in common?” Leon suggested. “Could have been
they were all involved with the same guy.”

“You’d
make a great detective yourself,” Mattheus replied. “There’s a lot of pieces to
this puzzle I haven’t looked into yet.”

“Just
get down here?” Leon asked.

“Yeah,”
said Mattheus. “To help my partner out.”

 “There’s
a nest of snakes down here on the Island just waiting to pounce,” Leon
muttered. “The sister just came for a few days, right?  On vacation with a
husband?”

“Right,”
said Mattheus.

Leon
cupped his chin with his small hand.  “Don’t waste your time trying to solve the
hotels murders. Your partner’s sister isn’t part of the chain, her murder’s got
to be connected to something else.”

“What?”
asked Mattheus swiftly.

“Damned
if I know,” Leon replied. “That’s your job, not mine to find out.”

Mattheus
began to push his chair away from his table. “Thanks for your time,” he said.

“Hell,
hang in a while,” Leon didn’t want him to go. “Never hurts to relax and chill
out. Have a couple of beers on me.”

“Wish
I could,” said Mattheus, “but time’s short and I got a lot of work cut out to
do.”

 “You’re
a great guy,” said Leon, unexpectedly. “If there’s ever something else I can do
to help you, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Mattheus
left the interview ill at ease. Why did Trage send him down to a complete dead
end? True, Mattheus had asked to see Leon, but Trage should have stopped him.
Cindy was right, they had to develop a laser sharp focus now, hone in on all
the right places, before Ann’s case also conveniently went cold.

Chapter 11

 

Cindy
opened Ann’s Facebook page right after she spoke to Mattheus. He’d probably be
away for a couple of hours and she wanted to use the time to complete her
investigation of Ann’s online world. As Cindy expected, everything looked the
same. There was no sense that tragedy had struck, life looked calm and happy.
Familiar faces that Cindy had seen over and over were still posted. This was
the world Ann had lived in, the friends who circled around her with love. They
created a sense that her life was secure and balanced. Cindy looked at the
assorted pictures of Ann and Frank smiling along with their other couple
friends. There were pictures of restaurants that Ann and Frank frequented and a
snapshot of them at a carnival. Everything looked in perfect order, only it
wasn’t. Ann had been skating on thin ice, about to be killed.

Cindy
scanned through Ann’s messages carefully, but nothing special came up. One
friend Loretta mentioned how beautiful Bermuda was and that she wanted to hear
all about the trip. A rich uncle of hers had a yacht there, did business in
Bermuda with the biggest firm around, Evan Price, Inc.  Loretta asked Ann to
post pictures, Ann had said she would. What kind of photo could Ann ever post now?

Restless,
Cindy picked up the phone and called Mattheus, just to see how it was going.

“Any
news?” she asked as he picked up.

“Torbbit’s
clean,” answered Mattheus, seeming grateful to talk. “He wasn’t even in town
when the murders happened. He said the hotel killings had to be linked to big
business here. Nothing else makes sense, does it?”

“That
leaves Ann out then,” Cindy said despondently.

“Why?”
asked Mattheus.

“She
wasn’t linked to big business, neither was Frank, ever. He did well enough in
his own world, got some more clients, maybe? But big business, no.”

“Don’t
be so sure,” Mattheus murmured. “Let’s talk more when I get back. Where are you
now?”

“In
my room,” said Cindy. “Still going over Ann’s Facebook page.”

“See
you in a few minutes,” said Mattheus, as he hung up.

Cindy
read Ann’s Facebook messages one more time before deciding to sign off. This
time she read them she paused at Loretta’s comment. Her uncle worked in
Bermuda, knew the territory, worked for a top guy here, Evan Price. Price was clearly
involved in big business. Perhaps he’d have some ideas about who Cindy and
Mattheus could look into? Of course Cindy would first have to call Loretta, ask
her to get in touch with her uncle and tell her about Ann’s death. The news
would spread like wildfire. Cindy wasn’t ready to do that yet. Maybe she could
find out more about Evan Price directly, even talk to him.  Right now any lead
would be a help. Cindy wanted to do it on her own though, not check with Trage
about it. She signed off Ann’s Facebook page and decided to look up Evan Price
online, find out more about him herself.

To
Cindy’s complete surprise, one article after another about Evan Price popped up
online. A huge business magnet, heading a major hedge fund, his name came up again
and again. There were pieces written about him in connection with everything –A
line parties, charity events, the International Festival of films. Cindy was
surprised that Loretta’s uncle worked for someone like him. If the hotel
murders had been connected to big business, it seemed that Evan Price would
definitely be the man to talk to.

Cindy
decided then to put a call into Trage first, to get the whole picture.

“How’s
it going, Cindy?” Trage asked the minute he recognized her voice.

“We’re
working hard,” Cindy replied, “I’m not sure where we’re going next though.”

“This
is a rough one,” Trage agreed, “without some kind of motive for your sister’s
killing, it’s hard to know where to turn.”

How
could there be a motive for Ann’s killing, Cindy suddenly said. “Ann never did
a thing to harm anyone. Maybe the killer was an insane, a random psychopath,
preying on anyone they could find.  It was definitely someone vicious, judging
by the marks on Ann’s neck. Possibly they were high on drugs at the time Ann
was slaughtered. Is there someone like that floating around?”

Trage
got quiet. “No one we can put our finger on,” he said slowly.

“Anything
new come in?” asked Cindy, “even one, small lead?”

“I’m
sorry,” Trage replied. “I sent Mattheus down to talk to Leon Torbitt, a big
drug honcho, a little while ago.”

“It
didn’t pan out to be much,” Cindy responded.

“I
didn’t think it would,” said Trage. “Mattheus wanted to go, though. He told me
one lead always brings another, even when you least expect it. You got a good
man there, Cindy.”

“Who’s
Evan Price?” Cindy asked suddenly, wanting to take Trage down a new road.

“Why
do you ask about him?” Trage sounded unsettled.

“I
just read about him online,” Cindy remarked casually, not wanting to influence
Trage’s response.

 “Where’d
you find his name?” Trage didn’t seem to like it.

Cindy
wasn’t going to tell Trage she saw Evan Price mentioned in passing on Ann’s Facebook
page. That seemed foolish.

“I’m
not sure where he first came up,” Cindy said slowly.

“Not
sure? You need better than that. You don’t go into the water, swim with sharks
and ruffle their territory without having a good reason to do so.”

The
sound of Trage’s voice troubled Cindy. It was interesting to her that he
considered Evan Price a shark.

“Anyone
who could lead me to Ann’s killer is someone I want to talk to,” Cindy said staunchly.

“But
what’s the connection between Ann and Price?” Trage wasn’t buying it.

“Ann
was killed in the same hotel where the others murders took place,” Cindy
answered plainly. “From what I can gather, most people think those killings
were connected to big business.”

“Conjecture,”
Trage mumbled. “No evidence of that.”

“Did
anyone talk to Evan Price about the hotel murders?” asked Cindy.

“In
fact, we did,” said Trage. “If you look through the files you’ll see he was
interviewed by us several times. He’s actually been up on charges a few times
for other things, as well. The guy never gets caught for anything, though. Price
is a smooth operator if ever there was one. He’s meticulous, too, nothing
passes him by.”

“What
was he been up on charges for?” Cindy was fascinated.

“The
usual,” Trage answered slowly, “tax evasion, bribery. Someone went missing a
year ago, and he was charged for that as well. The charges never came to
anything, though.  Exactly how could there be a connection between him, in
particular, and your sister’s murder?”

There
wasn’t any connection that Cindy knew of, but, judging by how disturbed Trage
was, it was something Cindy definitely had to explore.

“I
really need to know how exactly how you heard of him, Cindy,” Trage became
adamant.

“One
of Ann’s friends has an uncle who works for him,” Cindy replied. “Price’s name
came up on Ann’s Facebook page.”

“That’s
all you got?” Trage sounded suspicious.

“That’s
enough,” Cindy replied edgy.

“It’s
nothing,” Trage answered quickly, “you know how many people work for him, one
way or another? This is an international hedge fund.”

 “Now
he sounds like someone I definitely need to meet,” Cindy answered briskly.

“Explore
what you want,” said Trage quickly. “But, believe me, you’re wasting your
time.”

“Got
any other ideas?” asked Cindy, “I’m open for anything you can suggest.”

“Talk
to your brother in law,” Trage finally grumbled. “If someone’s got the key, he
does. He was with your sister right before she was murdered. He knew her, he knows
her friends. I believe he holds the answers.”

Cindy
felt furious. “I talked to him already, he doesn’t have anything,” Cindy
responded sharply, as the two of them hung up at the very same moment, annoyed.

*

“There
was no reason for you to upset Trage,” Mattheus said when he returned and Cindy
told him what had happened.

“I
didn’t upset Trage, the mention of Evan Price did,” Cindy replied. “I didn’t
even know Evan Price was someone I should interview until I saw how upset it
made Trage.”

“They
police had their hands full with the hotel murders,” Mattheus chimed in. “They
probably don’t want to dredge up more confusion now.”

“Mattheus,”
Cindy suddenly felt razor sharp focus, “The police have already interviewed Price.
He’s told them his story. Trage just didn’t like it that I found out about Price
by myself.  He doesn’t want me talking to him. There’s got to be a reason why.”

“How
did you find out about the guy?” Mattheus asked.

“Randomly,”
Cindy replied, “completely by chance.”

“There’s
no such thing as random in a murder investigation,” Mattheus commented. “If
something comes to your attention, there’s a reason why.”

 “I
found Price’s name on Ann’s Facebook page,” Cindy remarked hesitantly.

“That’s
weird,” Mattheus was surprised.

It
suddenly struck Cindy how weird it was, too. What were the chances that a
possible link to Ann’s murder would be casually mentioned on her page a few
days before she died?

“Who
posted it?” Mattheus was alerted.

“It
was casual,” Cindy insisted. “One of Ann’s friends, Loretta posted it when she
heard Ann was coming down here for vacation. She mentioned in passing that her
uncle had a yacht down here and worked for a big business guy, Evan Price.”

 “Have
you called Loretta?” Mattheus asked.

“Of
course I haven’t,” said Cindy.

“What
do you mean of course? Why not?” Mattheus was perturbed.

“I’m
not ready to tell the whole world Ann has died,” Cindy suddenly cried out.

“I
understand, I understand,” Mattheus put his hand on Cindy’s arm tenderly.

“That
would make it too real,” Cindy felt like sobbing. “Then Ann’s life would be
over, her friends would be gone.”

“I’ll
call Loretta for you,” Mattheus said. “Let me handle it.”

“Not
yet, it’s too much,” Cindy breathed. “We don’t need Loretta’s uncle anyway, I
can connect with Evan Price directly.”

“That’s
tricky,” Mattheus proclaimed. “And potentially dangerous as well.”

“Maybe
it is, but so what?” said Cindy. “What else do we have?”

“I’ll
go with you to see him then,” Mattheus relented.

“No,
not this time,” said Cindy firmly. “Price will feel less threatened if I see
him by myself. This is something I’ve got to do alone.”

*

Mattheus
left for a few minutes to go to his room, wash up and bring dinner back for them.
As soon as he left Cindy decided to immediately put in a call to Evan Price.
She knew she needed to speak to him, face to face.

To
Cindy’s delight, when she told Price’s secretary who she was, the secretary immediately
put her through.

“Yup?”
Price answered without taking a breath.

“Cindy
Blaine, private detective. I need to talk to you as soon as possible,” Cindy
blurted out, not mincing words.

“What
about?” Price sounded taken aback.

“I’m
down here from the States,” Cindy went on without pausing. “My sister was just
killed at the Greenstone Hotel. I need your help.”

“Help?”
Price listened more closely.

“Yes,”
said Cindy. “I don’t know who else to turn to.”

“I
like your frankness,” he responded swiftly.

“I’ve
read all about you online,” Cindy jumped back in. “And a friend of my sister’s
uncle works for you.”

“Who?”
Price wanted to know.

“I
don’t know his name,” Cindy answered, “I just saw your name mentioned on my
sister’s Facebook page.”

“Find
out who this guy who works for me is,” Price demanded.

“I
will,” Cindy replied. “And I want to talk to you in person, as soon as
possible.”

 “Okay,
okay,” Price seemed disconcerted. “I’ll do what I can, but, don’t get too
excited. No one’s figured out anything yet about the hotel murders.  My guess
is they never will. And, even though some people think I know everything about
what’s going on in Bermuda, I don’t know about those killings either.”

“I’m
not saying I believe you know everything,” Cindy continued, “I’m not even sure those
murders are connected to my sister’s death.  But I need names, I need
possibilities, I have to find out.”

“Yes,
you do,” said Evan, “and so do I. Okay,” he went on, without hesitation. “Come
meet me tomorrow at noon on my yacht. We’ll talk then. My secretary will give
you directions.”

Cindy
was delighted. “Thank you,” she breathed.

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