“The boss wanted us to close the case fast. When we couldn’t, we needed to cast suspicion on the victim. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t what we wanted to do. That’s part of the reason why I’m the only one here to talk to you.”
Corruption runs rampant in some precincts. There’s no acceptable excuse, but the job breeds internal breakdowns.
“What happened to your partner?”
“He was disgusted by the politics—one of those die-hard, wanting-to-do-the-right-thing, kind of dudes. From what I hear, he was a lot like you: focused and grounded in morals and ethics that don’t always fit in with the way we should do things. You know what I mean?”
I certainly did, and that was the reason why I had left the police force.
“He had been on the force for ten years, but he started young, advanced quickly and avoided politics for the most part. All his success was on merit, but this case…There was more to it… Things that were out of our control.”
“Was there someone you thought might be a suspect, but couldn’t investigate because you were rushed?”
“No, it wasn’t anything like that. I just…well, the family was weird.”
“Carson Stark? How so?”
“Not her husband so much, but her parents and brother. The only person in that family that was any help was the sister-in-law. She said that Liza had a secret of some sort. She’d been meeting with some dude, but the sister-in-law didn’t think it was an affair.”
“Interesting. This is the sister-in-law that recently divorced Liza’s brother?”
“I didn’t know they got a divorce, but it doesn’t surprise me. That guy was wound so tight.”
“The sister-in-law thought there was something Liza was hiding?”
“Yeah, and she was friendly, unlike the rest of them. You want a lead to chase, contact the sister-in-law.”
“Give me a feel for the family. How are they difficult?”
“The Stark family is old money. The Abernathys are new money. Both families feel put out if you ask them uncomfortable questions, and because they are known for donating money to various charities and organizations in Detroit, including DPD, we had to be ‘careful’.” Detective Cole used air quotes and rolled his eyes.
“What does ‘careful’ mean?” I asked.
“This is what got Archie. We wanted to dig into the backgrounds of the two families—thought it might be good to talk to everyone, ya know? In-laws, siblings, everybody. Well, we kept leaving messages for the Starks, and for Liza’s parents, but they wouldn’t call us back. Eventually, we stopped by their office in Plymouth and the receptionist had a fit. She told us they weren’t in the office that day, so we left. The next day, Arch had a sticky note on his desk.”
“Cease and desist?”
“That’s right. No explanation or reason. It just said that the Starks were irrelevant to the case. Of course, we argued that we couldn’t say that until we talked with them, but the boss told us to tone it down and leave them alone. Arch got real mad—went to their house one day when he was off. He shouldn’t have done it that way, but he had the right idea. He got written up, but we continued to try to pursue the case. We both decided to move forward with it, and we both became a lot less popular here at the precinct, but it was worth it. We thought we might be on to something.”
“Were you?”
“Maybe, but we were stonewalled. We weren’t ready to give up. Instead, we switched to the Abernathys. Once again, we tried to schedule meetings, but they refused to meet. The mom sent us an email that said, ‘No comment.’ No comment on their daughter’s murder? Seemed weird, but after contacting them a few times, we received a similar message on a sticky note.”
“Did you challenge the idea that you couldn’t interview people who were relevant to the case?”
“Yep. That’s why Archie is now a hippie organic farmer out west. We challenged and they fought back. Eventually, some rumor conveniently got started about infidelity. The media was beating down our door, and the boss wanted results. When we couldn’t get cooperation from either family, and it was clear that they hated one another, we were encouraged to let the rumor fester and take off. No one cares about a woman who cheats. We were pissed, but since we were told to leave it alone, yet again, we had to drop it.”
“Where did the rumor come from?”
“Ironically, it was started during an interview with the chief. He threw it out there as a possible scenario. The media loved that angle, and they ran with it.”
“It was a plant.”
“I can’t confirm or deny, but it was strange that he would give them that bone to chew on. You know the media loves drama. After Chief threw it out there, it was a part of every news story.”
Why did the chief start the rumor? Why wouldn’t the Abernathys or Starks talk with police? I wondered if Carson would be able to get his parents to meet with me. Perhaps I could work through the friendly sister-in-law to get to Liza’s parents. They were definitely on my list of people to interview.
“Any theories on why this needed to be a cover-up?”
“Not really. The Stark and Abernathy families have donated a lot of money and time to the city of Detroit. Usually that means that there’s a push to solve the case, unless there is a possible scandal. If Liza Stark was having an affair with a lowlife, it would have shamed the family. Maybe they knew that was going on, figured she was offed by a drug dealer, and didn’t want that to tarnish their reputation.”
“It does tarnish the reputation a bit…Loose-morals daughter throws it all away for drug dealer boyfriend.”
“But it’s just a rumor—pure speculation at this point. It’s better for the public to think that than for it to be proven. It also takes the pressure off DPD, which is an interesting angle, but I’m sure that figured into the chief’s speculation.”
“I’m sure. Hey, what about surveillance videos? Did you guys collect anything from the store?”
“Yeah, but there wasn’t anything on them. They were low quality and they were focused on the front door, and the back of the building. Unfortunately, you can’t see anything on the tapes. It’s like nothing happened that night. The angles were intensely focused on the store, which makes sense, especially in that area.”
“What about the gang angle? Ali Mansu, the storeowner, said that the gangs were harassing him before Liza’s body was found, but they haven’t bothered him since then. Was there any evidence that pointed towards gang involvement?”
“No. It was strange that the attacks stopped after that, but I think that has more to do with what Mansu did after that.”
“What did he do?”
“He took a stand for the neighborhood. Instead of leaving or bad mouthing the place, he really stood up for the community. I think he earned street cred and that’s why they left him alone.”
“Hmm. Interesting angle.”
“I know they’re gang members, but they have Brightmoor pride in a way. To see someone stick up for their hood makes them feel good.”
I nodded, but in the back of my mind, I thought there had to be more to it than that.
“Interesting. Thanks for your time and insider’s view. Dinner is on me one of these nights.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“For real. Dinner. Hey, can I get Archie’s number from you?”
Kettering hesitated.
“Give me a chance to talk to him. I’ll give him your number and he can call if he wants.”
“Fair enough. Okay, think about dinner. You pick the place and I’ll spend the night picking your brain.”
“Deal.” We shook hands and I headed for the car.
Chapter Four
I spent the rest of the afternoon in the office, brainstorming ideas with Martin. My brother-in-law, Martin Bainbridge, was well over a decade younger than my husband. During a business trip to Wales, Derek’s mother, Sharon, had an affair that destroyed her eighteen-year marriage and produced a new family member. Martin was a
total surprise to everyone involved except Derek’s mother. Even though Sharon moved to Wales and married her new love interest, and Derek was brokenhearted by the end of his parents’ marriage, he cherished his younger brother. Once Martin was ten, Derek would fly the boy to Michigan for summers and long school breaks. The rest of the time, he was in boarding schools in England until he turned thirteen, and was shipped off to Vermont. Derek’s mother and her new husband all but abandoned the boy to live a lavish life of travel.
Martin had been devastated by Derek’s death. He’d stayed in town for a few weeks, ambling along, trying to find his way. I had taken a leave of absence from the department and was spending most of my days at home, examining the details of Derek’s supposed suicide. Martin would stop by every day to share developments in a gruesome string of animal murders that eventually escalated to human slayings. Of course, my warnings to Martin and my advice to stop looking into the murders were ignored, and before I knew it, I was super-sleuthing with my brother-in-law. That was the beginning of our partnership. After some time, Martin needed a place to live. Against the advice of all my friends and family, I let my brother-in-law move in, and offered him a job as my assistant. Inspired by his dedication and thirst for truth, I decided to start my own private detective business. Martin and I had been through some great adventures together, and now he was like the son I never had.
“Find out anything?” Martin asked. He was sitting at his desk, hunched over a Styrofoam clamshell container filled with steaming Pad Thai.
“Yeah. DPD didn’t want the officers on the case to interview the families. They totally shot ’em in the foot. One guy quit. The other one still works for DPD, but he was forthcoming.”
“What about the husband? Any new information?”
“Actually, yes. They never interviewed the maid.”
“What? Why not?”
“I’m not sure, but part of me thinks they may not have even known about her. The murder took place in an alley a long way from Liza’s home, and it’s possible that Carson’s interviews took place at the precinct. He was difficult, I guess, but it sounds like it was because they had to investigate him as a suspect. That’s uncomfortable, but necessary. Anyway, the maid told me a woman came to the house the day before Liza was murdered.”
“A mystery woman! Housekeepers usually know all the dirt on the lady of the house,” Martin said.
“You’re right. Amelia probably knew more about what was going on in Liza’s life than anyone else. Unfortunately, her English is limited, and her job could have been on the line if she’d said the wrong thing.”
“We have a mystery woman, but we don’t know anything about her.”
“Well, we have a little bit to go on. Liza was a stay-at-home mom living in Northville Township. A black woman came to visit her, and she appeared not to have wheels. That tells me Liza had contacts outside of Northville. Not having a car fits with someone from Brightmoor.”
“Yeah, but it could also fit a large portion of residents of Detroit. Not to mention, just because she wasn’t currently driving, doesn’t mean the woman didn’t have a car somewhere. How do we narrow the focus?”
“We pray and hope we get lucky. Beyond that, I think we can say, until we learn something to contradict it, that the person was from Brightmoor. She shows up the day before Liza is murdered, she doesn’t have a car, and she doesn’t enter the house. She stays outside of the house, so we’re not talking about a friend, but Liza knew the woman. She told the housekeeper that she would get the door. So, an acquaintance Liza was familiar with, from Brightmoor, came to talk with her.”
Even though Amelia hadn’t shared anything too private, this mystery woman might hold the key to the case.
“What’s the relationship?”
“Not sure, but think about it. Liza had to have been in Brightmoor before she was murdered. She knew the lady. I doubt that someone from Brightmoor just stumbled into Northville and met Liza.”
“Right. Liza spent time in Brightmoor.”
“Yes. Also, the Starks’ place is a little far from that main road, and it’s busy, so whoever the lady was, she could have parked at the end of the drive and walked to the house. I just don’t see her getting to the house without a ride, even if she wasn’t driving. If she did park far from the house, I doubt any neighbors would have seen her,” I said, heading over to the whiteboard to draw a sketch of Carson’s property.
“Yeah, that’s possible, but why park at the end of the drive? I think we must consider that she might not have been driving. Of course, it is odd, because she wouldn’t have been able to get there without a car. Someone walking in the area would stand out, and it’s not exactly the most diverse part of town,” Martin said.
“True, but the properties are built for privacy. Everyone has a little land, and there’s quite a bit of greenery because of the state park. It would be easy to slip in and out of that place without anyone seeing you.” I drew the long driveway and wrote the name of the main thoroughfare adjacent to Carson’s property. Then I grabbed a green marker and scribbled around the house to represent the grass and trees.
“Do you think this person was familiar with the area?”
“She came while Carson was gone, didn’t stay long, so it’s possible, but it’s hard to say one way or another. Maybe Liza was communicating with the woman.”
“You think they were friends? Dealer and addict? Or something else?”
I wrote the options on the whiteboard, adding question marks behind each choice.
“There weren’t any drugs in her system at the time of death, but we shouldn’t completely rule that out. Past drug usage is a possibility. Friends? Well, that’s possible, but unlikely. Associate makes more sense. I called and left a message for Liza’s friend, Madelyn, the one she was going to meet for coffee the day she was murdered., She might be able to give me a more accurate picture of Liza’s social life.” I stuck the marker back on the edge of the whiteboard and went back to my desk.
“How was the murder book? Anything earth-shattering in there?”
“No, but the D told me something interesting. He said that Liza’s family wasn’t forthcoming with information. The only person who was willing to help was the sister-in-law. He told me to talk to her if I want a lead.”
“That’s weird. What about the husband? Was he completely ruled out?”
“He was never really a viable lead, but they did investigate him. He was rude to them, but no one really suspected him. The other thing that’s interesting is that the other D on the case quit because of the politics surrounding the investigation.”
“Did he elaborate on that? What type of politics?”
“Carson’s parents didn’t want to be interviewed. The detectives were encouraged to leave both sets of parents alone. First gently, but after the second attempt to set up interviews they were told to cease and desist. Eventually, a rumor got started about Liza having an affair, and the boss kind of wanted them to let that rumor grow and expand. One of the detectives quit. I’m sure there was more to it, but to have a D quit must mean it was pretty bad. There’s like a code of silence about that kind of stuff at the precinct. The fact he told me that much showed he was truly trying to help. I’m sure we’ll find out more about whatever cover-up there might be, in time.”
“Hmm. What’s our next step?”
“Hopefully, the D that quit will call me. He’s on the other side of the country now, so he might not care about DPD politics.”
“What would you like me to do?” Martin asked.
“We need more information on Carson. I don’t think he murdered his wife, but he’s odd. Drinks martinis at ten in the morning, doesn’t want to consider the fact that his wife may have known someone he didn’t…Total denial. There could be something there. He could be acquainted with the killer and not realize it.”
“Okay. Well, I can work on his digital info—maybe see if he has a dark side or something.”
“Great. I�
��ll look into the Starks. I’m curious about his family and where their money comes from. Also, Carson’s a doctor. People know him. Liza’s murder could be some type of vendetta.”
“You think Carson is dirty?”
“Not really, but he comes from a wealthy family. Sometimes those folks step on toes.”
Martin shoveled a few more bites of Pad Thai into his mouth before grabbing his jacket and heading out.
***
I opened my laptop and started searching for biographical information on the Stark family. A simple internet search for Carson Stark pulled up hundreds of hits. I browsed through the listings and clicked on an announcement about his high school graduation. Back then, Carson had worn a shaggy page-boy cut that made him look much younger than a high school senior. A slight smirk creased the right side of his mouth, but his large blue eyes were stern and serious. The Starks had bypassed public school and sent Carson to a private school in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. He’d excelled in math, science, and English, and played rugby. Below the first picture were several smaller photos. One contained a tall, leggy blonde with the same page-boy haircut as Carson, identical eyes to her son, and a stiff arm around his shoulders. Another photo showed Carson and his father, a man who was at least five inches shorter than his son, with dark brown hair and cool blue eyes. The family portrait that contained all three of the Starks resembled somber photographs typical of those taken in the early 1900s: no smiles or emotion on their faces. By all accounts, Carson was just your average rich doctor, born and raised in a prominent Northville Township family that had been in the area since the late 1700s…At least, that was how it appeared on the surface. The second hit in the search provided personal information on the family. While Carson’s paternal side of the family seemed to follow an established pattern of wealthy family succession, his mother was anything but conventional.
Based on Aileen Stark’s birthdate, she was now seventy-seven years old. A woman ahead of her time, Aileen McDonaldson’s story was a true rags-to-riches tale. Her parents had emigrated from Ireland in the 1920s and lived in a working-class neighborhood on the west side of Detroit. Aileen won a scholarship to a prestigious private school, went on to the University of Michigan, and became a doctor. That meant she had attended medical school in the 1960s—a truly remarkable feat.
Who She Was Page 5
