Within Plain Sight

by Bruce Robert Coffin

  “In a strange twist of fate Angelina Stavros, beloved star of stage and screen, who just last week put up a reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person responsible for the killing of Danica Faherty, an employee at her restaurant, must now contend with the fact that her son may be responsible for that grisly murder.

  “A little over an hour ago, Alex Stavros, best known for his television cooking show and his trendy restaurants in Portland and New York City, was taken into custody, led out of Alessandro’s by several Portland police officers and detectives.”

  Byron cringed as he watched the video footage of Alex doing the perp walk to the black-and-white.

  Thomas continued, “A short time ago I spoke with Portland Police Lieutenant Martin LeRoyer. LeRoyer, the commander of the Criminal Investigation Division, declined to go on camera, but he did tell me that the case is still under investigation and that additional information may be released at a later date.

  “Viewers may recall we first identified Alex Stavros as a person of interest last week after obtaining a copy of the search warrant affidavit filed by Portland police detectives. The search warrant was executed at the former Bowdoin Street home of Angelina Stavros. Lieutenant LeRoyer refused to provide any detail beyond saying that evidence recovered from the home directly links Alex to the crime.”

  Robbins turned to Byron. “Well, that ought to make our jobs a whole lot easier.”

  Nugent chimed in, “I’d like to strangle the fucker who released that information.”

  “Dammit, this case has been dogged by a leak since it began,” LeRoyer said.

  “I don’t disagree,” Byron said. “But it didn’t come from my team.”

  LeRoyer took a moment to scan the room before speaking again. “I know I don’t have to tell you how detrimental this leak has been for Chief Lynds. This is her first time at the helm during a homicide investigation. I had hoped for better for her.”

  Byron couldn’t help but wonder if it was really Lynds that LeRoyer was concerned about or his own chances at promotion under her regime. Wisely, he remained silent.

  Chapter 30

  Monday, 9:35 a.m.,

  July 24, 2017

  Diane Joyner was busy at her desk sorting through a mountain of emails and voicemails. She was trying hard to juggle the fourth estate’s need to know against her own needs concerning the detective sergeant vacancy.

  Her desk phone rang. It was Chief Lynds calling. Diane grabbed it after the first ring. “Sergeant Joyner.”

  “Diane, do you have a second?”

  “Certainly, Chief,” Diane said while holding her breath.

  “Why don’t we meet in my office?” Lynds said.

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Diane hung up the phone then exhaled. This was it. The moment of truth. The chief had made her decision. One way or another Diane would know her future. The news would either be good, or it wouldn’t, but either way she could move on and cease worrying about it. She stood up, grabbed the gray suit coat off the back of her chair and slid it on.

  She paused a moment before exiting the office. Was the chief having her come to her office a good sign or bad? It was certainly much more formal than when Lynds had paid a visit to Diane’s office several weeks back. Had the other candidates already been informed of her decision or was she the first? But she could what if herself to death. Drawing a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, steeling herself for whatever was coming, then walked out into the hall.

  Byron was seated at his desk going through the murder books, making sure everything was in order. Sunday had been spent updating his own supplemental reports and chasing down others. He’d added the lab results confirming the presence of Dani Faherty’s blood in Lina’s former residence and the report matching Alex’s DNA to the semen recovered from Dani’s body. He was about to check in with AAG Jim Ferguson when his desk phone rang. The call originated from an outside line.

  “Byron.”

  “Detective Sergeant Byron, this is Stuart Forsyth. I am the attorney of record representing Alex Stavros.”

  Byron hesitated a moment before responding. Stuart Forsyth was one of the most well-known and well-respected defense attorneys in all of New England. And in Forsyth’s case, well-respected corresponded directly with high-priced. Lina was most definitely footing the bill on this. Byron wasn’t sure which was more surprising, direct contact from Forsyth or that it had come so soon after the arrest.

  “I thought Courtney Levine was representing Alex Stavros,” Byron said.

  “Not any longer.”

  “I see,” Byron said. “What can I do for you?”

  “My client has requested a sit-down. Alex wishes to converse with you face-to-face.”

  Byron was momentarily taken aback by the request. “Mr. Forsyth, I don’t need to tell you how unusual this is. Your client has been charged with the murder of Danica Faherty. He has had ample opportunity to talk with not only me but my partner, Detective Stevens, as well. Alex was quite clear on the matter of exercising his right to remain silent. What has changed?”

  “I wish I knew, Sergeant. Unfortunately, Alex hasn’t seen fit to share that with me. I have advised him against this course of action, obviously, telling him, as you said, that this is highly unusual. I have also told him that anything he does tell you will mean that he runs the risk of further incriminating himself.”

  “And he still wants to sit down with me?” Byron asked.

  “Yes, he does. As soon as possible.”

  Byron considered his next move. If Alex Stavros wanted to bury himself, Byron certainly wasn’t about to stop him, but he did want to talk it over with AAG Ferguson first. “Mr. Forsyth, give me your number and I’ll call you back.”

  “Well that’s a first,” Jim Ferguson said from across the table, after Byron laid out what Attorney Stuart Forsyth had proposed. The two men decided to meet up at the Miss Portland Diner rather than discuss the matter by telephone. They snagged a table at the far end of the coach.

  “You think Stavros and Forsyth are running some kind of game?” Byron asked.

  Ferguson raised a brow. “If they are, it’s no game I’ve ever heard of. Forsyth must know that once his client starts talking, even if they’ve rehearsed what he’ll say, it would be very easy to misspeak. A slip-up during questioning might bury Alex for good. Tough to put the proverbial genie back in the bottle once he’s popped out.”

  “And the risk to us?” Byron asked.

  “Might make more work for you. Alex might be trying out an alternate suspect theory on you to get you to chase a ghost. Forsyth will likely try to convince the jury that perhaps you had doubts about his client’s guilt after all. That’s assuming you follow whatever lead they intend on providing you.”

  “I follow every lead,” Byron said. “Why would this be different?”

  “The difference is that you’ve already charged Alex. Anyway, Forsyth is the defense counsel. The snake oil he’s peddling doesn’t have to be true, he only has to get the jury to buy it.”

  Byron played with a marmalade packet as he ran through the alternate theories Ferguson had previously mentioned. They were way past probable cause with Alex, for Dani Faherty’s murder, but arriving at their intended destination of beyond a reasonable doubt was a long drive yet.

  “There’s always the possibility that Alex isn’t the killer,” Byron said. “Part of the reason he’s in custody now is because he chose not to cooperate when he had the chance. He forced our hand.”

  Ferguson nodded. “That and the lies he’s already told you. His credibility is pretty much shot at this point.”

  “I want to do it,” Byron said at last.

  “It’s your case, John. You know I’ll back your play.”

  He knew Ferguson would, the wildcard was Chief Lynds. Would she stake her new command against Byron’s reputation?

  “You might want to get a handle on this media leak problem you have, though,” Ferguson said.
“If word leaks out that Alex is talking about alternate suspects, and that you’re pursuing those leads, you’ll be helping Forsyth try the case in the papers before it ever gets to trial.”

  Byron went through the motions, parking in the lot near the main entrance to the Cumberland County Jail, signing in at the front desk, and securing his firearm in one of the wall-mounted lockers, but inside he was running the forthcoming interview through his head. Was he being played? Had the high-priced attorney agreed to some scheme with his client? Or was Stuart Forsyth just as in the dark as he claimed?

  Following a short wait, Byron was led into the secure area beyond the lobby to one of the no-frill concrete block interview rooms. He walked in and sat down across from Alex Stavros and his attorney. Forsyth gave Byron a silent nod.

  “Why am I here?” Byron asked, cutting through the formalities and looking directly at Stavros.

  Alex turned to Forsyth for guidance.

  Forsyth cleared his throat and responded for his client. “Sergeant Byron, I want the record to reflect that I strongly advised Alex against this, but he was insistent that he needed to speak with you.”

  Byron knew Forsyth was simply trying to cover his own ass. Ultimately, if Stavros were found guilty, he might later try and claim ineffective assistance of counsel in order to vacate the verdict. And, if that happened, this very meeting could prove to be the turning point in their case against Alex.

  Byron returned his attention to Stavros. “Mr. Stavros, I’ve been around the block more than a few times and it has been my experience that a man facing a murder charge will say almost anything to get out of it. We have more than enough evidence, all of which points directly at you, to proceed to trial. If your goal is to try and confuse the issue, you should save that for court.” Byron glanced in Forsyth’s direction. “I’m sure your attorney is more than capable of confusing a jury.”

  “I appreciate your candor, Sergeant Byron,” Stavros said. “But whether you believe it or not, I cared deeply for Dani, and I did not kill her. I only want to help you get the person responsible.”

  Forsyth squirmed in his chair.

  Byron removed a small digital recorder from his jacket and set it on the table between them. He powered it on and activated the record feature, checking to make sure the red light was illuminated.

  “I assume you won’t mind if I record this as well,” Forsyth said, pulling out his own recorder which Byron saw was already running.

  “By all means,” Byron said.

  Never a fan of anything digital, Byron pulled out his notebook and prepared to take notes. You could never go wrong with redundancy. After taking care of the preliminaries, which included the rereading of Miranda, Byron began the interview. “Alex, take me back to Saturday night, July 8th. Where were you?”

  “As I told you before, I was attending the annual Northeast Restaurant Association Conference in Boston, Massachusetts.”

  “You also told me that you were in Boston for the entire weekend and that you didn’t return to Maine until late Sunday, but that’s not true, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t. I didn’t tell you the truth because I didn’t want my wife, Deborah, to find out that I was having an affair.”

  “Did you meet up with Danica Faherty during that weekend?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “When?”

  “I drove to Maine Saturday night, before midnight.”

  “Was this a planned meeting?”

  “Yes. Dani and I had already discussed it during the week.”

  The admission confirmed Byron’s suspicion as they had previously checked and found no record of contact or texts from Alex on Faherty’s cellphone history obtained from the cell provider.

  “Where did the two of you meet?” Byron asked.

  “At my mother’s former residence on Bowdoin Street in Portland.”

  “Had the two of you met there before?”

  “Yes. We met up at Lina’s house because it is vacant.”

  “How many times?”

  “I don’t know. Quite a few.”

  “What’s quite a few?” Byron asked. “Half dozen? A dozen?”

  “We had been seeing each other for several months.”

  “When you say seeing each other, by that you mean what?”

  “Having sex.”

  “Did you have sex with Danica Saturday night July 8th?”

  “No. Dani didn’t arrive until almost two o’clock.”

  “Sunday morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you have sex with Danica on Sunday morning July 9th?”

  “Yes. Twice.”

  “What happened afterwards?”

  “We fell asleep.”

  Byron maintained eye contact with Alex, pen poised above the notepad, waiting for him to continue.

  “I had set the alarm on my cellphone for five o’clock and it woke us up.”

  “Why so early?”

  “Because I wanted to get back to the hotel where the conference was being held before anyone began to look for me.”

  “You mean before you were missed? You needed to establish an alibi, right?”

  Forsyth jumped in. “Alex, I’m afraid I must advise you not to answer that—”

  Alex held his hand up to silence his attorney. “Please, let me finish.”

  Forsyth punctuated his displeasure with a long sigh and a shake of his head. “Go ahead.”

  Alex readdressed Byron. “Yes, I was trying to establish an alibi, but not because I killed Dani. I needed an alibi because of my affair. Deborah and I have had problems before, Sergeant. She threatened to divorce me and take the kids away.” Stavros paused to look down at the table. The reality of his situation was beginning to sink in. “Now, I guess she probably will.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Byron said. “You were so worried about Deborah finding out that you cheated on her again anyway.”

  “Look, I know I haven’t always been the best husband, but I am not a murderer. Deborah and I haven’t really been in love for quite a while now. Honestly, we’re really only together because of the children.”

  “Why did you borrow George Martin’s car for the return trip to Maine?”

  “Because, if I had used my own car Deborah would’ve seen the trip on the EZ Pass statement,” Stavros said.

  “So, you borrowed your friend’s vehicle then asked him to lie for you?”

  “Yes. But I never meant for George to get into trouble.”

  “Where was Danica when you left Bowdoin Street on Sunday morning?”

  “I got dressed, and she walked me to the door.”

  “And?”

  “She kissed me goodbye, and I left.”

  “The last time you saw Danica she was standing by the door?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was she wearing when you left?”

  “A bra and underwear.”

  “Did you see anyone as you were walking to Martin’s car or as you were driving away?”

  “No. But it was early. I didn’t see anybody.”

  Byron kept his gaze fixed on Alex waiting to see if he’d look away. He didn’t.

  “Did you kill Danica Faherty, Alex?”

  “No. I swear to you, when I left Bowdoin Street on Sunday morning, Dani was alive.”

  “When did you first learn that something was wrong? That Danica was missing?”

  “I tried calling her Tuesday afternoon—”

  “Tuesday the 11th?”

  “Yes, but her phone went directly to voicemail.”

  “Did you leave a message?” Byron asked, already knowing he hadn’t.

  “No. We had a rule about that.”

  “Your rule?”

  Stavros shrugged.

  “When was the last time you saw or spoke to Danica Faherty, Alex?”

  “When I left her at Bowdoin Street on Sunday morning, July 9th.”

  Byron closed his notebook and returned it to his coat pocket. “Alex, you
failed to mention that you were having a sexual relationship with Danica Faherty the first time I spoke with you.”

  Stavros opened his mouth to respond. Byron held up a hand to stop him.

  “You were the last person to see her alive. You lied about sneaking up to see her on the morning she was killed. You borrowed a friend’s car so there would be no EZ Pass record of your trip. You asked a friend to lie for you if the police asked where you were. We have evidence confirming that Dani was killed in the very house where you had been meeting regularly for sex. And lastly, traces of your semen were collected during her autopsy. In fact, nothing you have told me changes a thing. I’m curious, what exactly did you think meeting with me today would accomplish?”

  Stavros glanced nervously at his attorney.

  Forsyth held up both hands in surrender. “You’ve gone this far against my advice. You might as well go all in.”

  Byron waited for Stavros to show his final card.

  “Sergeant Byron, you say you recovered my semen from Dani.”

  “That’s correct. The medical examiner who conducted the autopsy did. There were traces of semen containing your DNA in and around her vaginal area and on the underwear she was wearing when we recovered her body.”

  “Dani and I had sex numerous times over the past few months, I don’t deny it. But I always wore a condom. Trojan brand condoms. Each and every time. She insisted on it.”

  Byron felt something tighten inside. Had they missed something?

  “So, how exactly did my semen get into Dani?” Stavros said.

  Chapter 31

  Monday, 12:35 p.m.,

  July 24, 2017

  Byron departed 50 County Way and drove directly to 109. He parked in the rear garage and was exiting the unmarked when his cell buzzed with an incoming call from Gabriel Pelligrosso.