Death on the Sound (7 page)

    
“Well, we were, how shall I say, in the
middle of one of our meetings when someone heard a noise outside. We were at
Garson’s house, so he ran into his room, and came out with a small pistol of
some type, and then went outside to check.”

    
“Was the gun shiny or dark colored?” I
asked.

    
“It had a shiny barrel, that’s all I saw.
His hand was covering the rest.”

I
nodded to Tom, but his eyes were glued to Clare’s breasts.

    
“Clare, other than possibly Mr. McConnell
was there anyone else that might have had bad feelings toward Ms. Martin?”

    
“No, everyone loved her. She was a
sweetheart.”

Tom
had given up on being discreet; he was full on staring at her breasts, which
was making me uncomfortable. I decided it was time to stop.

 
   
“Thank
you Clare, we appreciate your time, and we’re sorry about your friend.”

As
we walked out, Tom was keeping his distance. He knew I was going to let him
have it. As we passed by Clare, on our way through the door, she reached out
and touched Tom’s arm.

    
“We’re looking for new members. If you
should feel inclined to come to a meeting, please call.”

Her
smile was if nothing else, friendly and hinting at so much more. Poor Tom was
almost tongue tied as the words fumbled out of his mouth.

    
“Thank you for your offer, but I have a
pretty full life now but thanks anyway.”

We
looked back to see Clare wave, and close her door.

I
waited an appropriate amount of time and then launched.

    
“Tom, for god’s sake what were you doing
back there? Haven’t you ever seen a woman’s breasts before? It’s a wonder every
ounce of drool in your body isn’t now drying on your pants from your mouth
being open so much,” I barked.

    
“You mean to tell me that if Clare was a
man with a see-thru crotch that you wouldn’t be staring at his equipment. Give
me a break Abby. I am human you know.”

He
did have a point, and I would have had dry mouth from being open so much, just
like Tom. I had to admit defeat.

    
“Okay, you got me. You’re right, what’s
good for the goose is good for the gander.”

The
only bad part about our last exchange was Tom’s self righteous look. I hate to
be bested in an argument.

Tom’s
phone rang, and I could tell it was McConnell checking in. Tom told him we were
on our way.

We
drove back by McConnell’s house and rang the bell. The maid answered, and
nodded to us.

    
“He’s waiting for you. Please follow me.”

We were led into the house that looked a lot like
Desiree’s. I looked out through the huge glass side of the house and saw that
Garson’s pool was the same size as Desiree’s, but lacked a woman’s touch for
decorating. Then I saw Garson sitting in a large overstuffed leather chair in
the corner of the room. He pushed his glasses back onto his head.

    
“May I help you?” he asked in a semi-snooty
tone.

    
“Mr. McConnell I’m Abby Masters and this is
Tom Culhane we’re from the Seattle police department. I’m here regarding an
incident at Ms. Martin’s house.”

    
“Desiree, is she alright?”

    
“I’m sorry to tell you she was shot last
night, and didn’t survive. I need to ask you a few questions.

As
Tom slid outside and started to wander as he does a lot at crime scenes, I
watched Garson closely for any telltale signs of guilt. Men are crap when it
comes to lying. Women are more sneaky, and harder to read.

    
“I can’t believe it. Who would kill
Desiree? She was loved by everyone.”

    
“Mr. McConnell your name was in her
calendar for a meeting last night at eight. Did you attend that meeting?”

    
“No, I had to cancel.”

    
“Why was that?”

    
“I hurt my back lifting some items out of a
closet yesterday, and I had to spend the evening with a heating pad on my back,
getting old is a bitch.”

    
“So I hear. So you never left your house at
all last night, let’s say after five in the afternoon?”

    
“Yes, that’s right.”

Tom
came wandering back in from somewhere down by dock area.

    
“That’s some boat you’ve got down there.
How often do you get out with her?”

    
“Usually three or four times a week. I love
the water. That’s one of the reasons I live where I do.”

    
“No inference intended, but it’s what maybe
fifteen minutes or less to Ms. Martin’s house from here?”

McConnell
eyes stayed focused on Tom as he replied; no shifting and no blinking.

    
“Why, yes that’s about right. I guess I’ve
never really timed it to the minute.”

    
“Sorry to interrupt Abby.”

Tom
gave me his Cheshire grin, and I continued.

    
“Mr. McConnell do you own a gun?”

There
was a pause while the wheels turned before his reply.

    
“Ah, yes I do. Are you thinking I killed
Desiree?”

    
“We’re just asking questions for now. Would
you mind if we looked around Mr. McConnell?”

    
“I think I’ll need to ask you for a search
warrant first.”

    
“We can certainly do that Mr. McConnell.”

    
“What time does your maid leave?” I asked.

    
“She leaves at four. She’s usually here at
seven in the morning to fix my breakfast.”

    
“We may have more questions later, so
please stay available.”

Tom
and I looked at each other as Garson nodded, and pulled his glasses back down.
Tom and I walked out through the front door and were almost to the car before I
spoke.

    
“So, do you think Garson may have gone to
Desiree’s in his boat?”

    
“I think we should be able to scratch it
off our list of possibilities.”

We
split up, I went down the north side, and Tom went down the south.

    
An hour later we returned to the car and
compared notes.

    
“No luck on my side Tom. One house looked
like it was shut up for the winter and the other two hadn’t noticed anything
unusual on the night of the murder.”

    
“I would’ve had a similar report until I
got to my last house. It seems Mrs. Parker is one of Garson’s arch enemies. She
had discovered what his club was about, and apparently had snuck over on one
occasion to peep at the group going at it by his pool. In her words, “she was
appalled”, and hopes he rots in hell, to use her words. Anyway, she apparently
keeps close tabs on our friend Garson. Although she is two houses away, the
curve of the lake gives her an excellent view of his dock area. It seems on the
night in question, at about sevenish, she saw Garson leave in his boat, and
head in the direction of Desiree’s house. We can’t really prove where he was
going, but I think we’re good for a search warrant for his house to look for a
gun, don’t you?”

    
“Tom. give Mark Chalmers a call, and see if
he can hatch a search warrant for us. We shouldn’t waste any time.”

Tom
pulled out his phone and called Mark, who is one of the many assistant DA’s in
the city. He’s one of the good guys, and we count on them a lot to help us do
our job. We sat for an hour, and finally a black and white pulled in behind us
and the officer got out and walked to our car.

    
“I think you’ve been waiting for this. Do
you guys need some backup?”

    
“Why don’t you just hang out in the rear
while we present this? He does have boat out back, and I’d hate to have him
make a break and get away, just in case he is the guilty one.”

I
flipped open my cell and called Maya. I had all sorts of things to say to her,
but not in front of Tom.

    
“Hey, Maya, Abby, we’re about ready to
serve a search warrant, and I was wondering if you had the caliber of the
bullet yet on Ms. Martin?”

    
“Your timing is great Abby. I just pulled
it five minutes ago. It’s a thirty eight, and I’ve got good markings, so if you
get a gun I’ll be able to match it.”

I
updated Tom, and we started back up the driveway as Mark slipped around the
side.

We
knocked, and Tom gave me a sharp poke. The curtain was rocking a bit at the
edge of the front window. The door opened, but this time it was Garson who
answered.

    
“You two don’t waste any time do you?”

    
“When someone is killed Mr. McConnell time
is of the essence. Here is your warrant, which I believe, you requested. We
shouldn’t be too long, and we’ll try not to mess things up too bad.”

Tom
and I split up. Tom went out to the boat first, which he’d requested be added
to the warrant. I checked Garson’s bedroom, which is where Claire had said he’d
gone to get his gun. I checked the two large dressers, and found a treasure
trove of dildos, strap-ons, and other sex toys too numerous to mention. I
checked under the mattress and nightstand and then moved to the closet. I
checked the top shelf, and looked in every box, but found nothing. His closet
was an orderly arrangement of suits, slacks, shirts, and jackets all in their
appointed place. As I was closing the door, I noticed a jacket sleeve hanging
out of alignment with the rest. It was very noticeable compared to the rest of
his clothes. I slid the other door back, stood in front of the section, and
then started to feel the material of each jacket, starting with the one out of
place. My hands felt the solid feel of metal. I reached into the pocket, and
pulled out a thirty eight, all bright and shiny with a pearl handle. I had it
by the barrel, and laid it on the bed, so I could carefully open the chamber
and remove the bullets. After it was empty and both the gun and bullets bagged,
I walked out into the living room.

Tom
walked in from the boat.

    
“Nothing in the boat Abby.”

    
“Well, I seem to have found a thirty eight in
one of Mr. McConnell’s jackets. Mr. McConnell you’re under arrest for the
murder of Desiree Martin.”

Tom read him his rights as Mark loaded him into his
car for the ride downtown. I checked my watch, and it was five fifteen. I hoped
we had set a new record for solving a murder. Some days you’re lucky, and some day's
life just sucks. I gave Maya a call to see if she was still at work. She
answered and said she’d stay until the gun arrived. Again, I wanted to say
things to her, but not with Tom sitting three feet away.

    
We got back to the precinct and booked
McConnell while I took the gun over to Maya. It was now six ten, and Maya would
have only two assistants present, unless I was lucky and they were all out on a
call. I walked down the long hall with the evidence bags in my hand, turned
into the morgue, and one more turn into Maya’s office.

    
“Hi, kiddo, I’m here. Is it okay if I wait
around while you do your thing?”

Maya
smiled and got up, walking by the large bouquet of roses on the corner of her
desk, and came easily into my arms. Her warm, moist lips found mine as my arms
went around her waist.

    
“I’ve been waiting to do that all day Abby.
Thank you for the flowers. They’re the first flowers anyone has ever sent me.
I’m glad it was you.”

    
“I just thought you needed some color in
this drab place. Oh, and they’re from Felix too. He likes his name dropped
whenever possible,” I grinned.

That
got me another kiss on the cheek as she grabbed the bags, and started across
the large operating room and into ballistics. I stood and waited, watching her
cute butt move sensually across the expanse of floor. I had a déjà vu moment
like Tom as I stood and just stared.

    
She was back in twenty minutes with a Jpeg
print of the comparison of the bullets in question.

    
“Well, Sherlock you’ve got your gun and
your man, they’re a match.”

    
“Thanks for hanging around to do this. Now
I can go back, and close this out tonight”

I
took the photos of the comparison and was ready to leave, not quite sure what
my final words would be to Maya. I didn’t have to worry.

    
“Abby, I’m afraid I’m becoming addicted to
you. Do you want to get some dinner after you finish?”

    
“It could be late Maya, but sure if you
don’t mind waiting?”

    
“I can wait Abby. Give me a call when
you’re ready, and I’ll pick you up at the station.”

I
gave a quick glance around the area for lesbian spies, and when I saw none, I
gave Maya a quick kiss and a pat on her cute butt.

    
“I’ll see you for dinner.”

I walked back down the hall, not so much hungry for
food but for Maya. Ten minutes later my growling stomach overrode that idea. I
got back to the station, and showed Tom the bullet comparison.

“I think that about cinches it for Mr. McConnell,”
said Tom.

“Tom, the captain is still in his office. I’d like to
run a trip down to Walla Walla, by him, for us to talk to Tate this week. Can
you start questioning McConnell, and I’ll join you when I’m done?”

“Gotcha covered Abby. Go
plead our case.”

    
I left Tom
and spent the next twenty minutes with the captain. It didn’t take too much
convincing, and he even called the warden to set up a meet on Wednesday. Tom
and I would have to spend the night in Walla Walla for the trip back on
Thursday. I put our name on the list for one of the larger cars for our trip.
If I was going have to drive to Walla Walla, I wanted to be comfortable.

I walked down the hall and joined Tom in the interview
room. He wasn’t having too many problems getting Garson to talk with the bullet
comparison lying on the table between them.

    
“She and I
had been partners for four years. We had sex even when we weren’t at the club
meetings. She told me I was the best, and that I always satisfied her. A few
months back I started to have problems in the aahhh erection area, and went to
the doctor. He said I was healthy, and it may be an age thing. I have a slight
heart problem so he wouldn’t give me Viagra. Desiree was forgiving for awhile, but
then she got sullen after our bouts. I just couldn’t seem to perform. Finally,
one day she said she was going to be seeing Carlton Dumont. Hell, he’s only
five years younger than me. I blew up. My ego couldn’t stand the demotion. I
left in a huff, and we only saw each other at meetings. I started going with
Amy Jackson, but it wasn’t the same. I guess I loved Desiree. We all agreed
when we started our club that it was just for the sex, and that we’d keep
emotion out. I failed. It finally preyed on my mind so much that I just got
more jealous and then mad. The more I thought about Desiree with Carlton’s
pencil dick in her, the madder I got.

She was naked when I arrived. Desiree likes to walk
around naked in her house. The woman is obsessed with sex, but then so was I, I
guess. As we stood by the pool, with her telling me I wasn’t good enough, and
that she needed a man who could get it up, and that sex was what she wanted not
a life partner. That put me over the edge, and I shot her.”

Garson hung his head and started to cry. The finality
of his decision finally sinking in, and the realization he’d never see Desiree
again, ever. We had his statement typed up and signed by ten thirty. Tom was
looking almost white. I told him not to drive home before he got some food in
his stomach. He agreed and headed out to hopefully get a good meal, and not
some gigantic pizza and beer. I called Maya and asked if she still wanted to
have dinner. She sounded tired, and I suggested an alternative.

    
I rode the
bus home with myself and three other people. It was ten fifty five as I walked
across the street to my parking lot. At eleven twenty five, the doorbell rang,
and Maya was standing there with Chinese takeout and her clothes for tomorrow.

    
“Thank you
for being the go-for for our dinner, I owe you,” I said.

    
“Yes, you
do. I’ll take a kiss in lieu of a tip.”

I gave Maya a kiss as she walked by me with our
dinner. In what seemed like only minutes, we’d both consumed our Kung Pao
Chicken, rice, and egg flower soup. I cleaned up, locked up, and we walked
slowly up the stairs to bed. After our showers and a short conversation to top
our day, I snuggled next to Maya as we both fell asleep, both exhausted from
our long day.