Murder By Misdirection

by Debra Snow

  “I make tea in the kitchenette next to my office,” he explained. “I also make Mister Shaut his coffee, but in the afternoon he likes something special.”

  “So I’ve learned,” Pro agreed. When Shaut had put in his order, it had been for a very fancy drink with a long name and an odd arrangement of ingredients.

  For herself, she ordered plain black coffee.

  Bailey had returned quickly as there was a Starbucks a few short blocks away, and had also bought coffee for himself and his partner.

  Now, fueled with fresh caffeine, Pro pulled out her cell phone and tried to see if she could glean anything else from her father’s message of the previous night:

  Sorry, had to run.

  The answers are in the

  coded emails.

  Good luck, pumpkin

  She wished she had brought them with her so she could continue to translate them.

  She still didn’t have any answers. The email she found that had been erased—who erased it? Was it a hacker or was someone in NYPD Cyber trying to ruin her case? And what secrets still lay in the emails she hadn’t rendered into the true message?

  And why were people continuing to be killed? Had the murderer gotten the plans from Al Floss? If so, why kill Tanner and Mystique? And what did Max have to do with it, and why was he continuing to pull his disappearing act? If he knew who did it, why couldn’t he just tell Pro and let her and Tom do their jobs? Didn’t he trust her?

  Maybe her father truly didn’t trust anyone. She had to admit she had issues with him, but since his arrival, he had not been acting like a rational person. The escape from the holding cell alone was enough to suggest that he was neither responsible nor thinking things through clearly. Sure, he escaped, and now he was the most sought-after fugitive in New York.

  She shook her head and went to put her phone away when it rang and the name TOM CHU appeared on the screen.

  “This is Pro. What’s up, Tom?”

  “Have you seen a television today?”

  “No,” Pro said and got to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ask Shaut to tune in Channel Four. They are about to show something you need to see.”

  Pro pressed the phone to her shoulder and walked into Malcolm Shaut’s office. “Sir, how do you turn on the TV in the room I’m in?”

  “What?” Shaut said and looked up. He rose from his desk and went into the waiting room where Pro had been sitting. He yanked open a hidden drawer on the coffee table, extracted a remote control, and pointed it at the screen, which came to life. “Is that what you need?”

  “Yes, please, Channel Four.”

  Shaut hit a number on the remote, then handed it to Pro and returned to his office.

  “Thank you,” Pro told Shaut as he left. She then spoke into her phone. “Okay, I’ve got it.”

  “And we are both going to get it,” Chu grunted.

  The screen was tuned to the correct station, and a pair of clean-cut news anchors were sitting side by side at a large desk. The man, who had a smile that suggested expensive dentistry, turned to his cohost and smirked. “Rough day for the NYPD, Carole.”

  The blonde co-host, obviously Carole, grinned a practiced dimpled smile and replied, “You’re right, Frank. Video footage given to Channel Four clearly shows that they have trouble keeping people in their cells.”

  “No, God, please no,” Pro whimpered, as the image changed to the holding cell occupied by her father.

  With enhancements that highlighted the unlocking of the cell, and arrows that showed Max’s escape route, the male host continued speaking. “Indeed they do. Of course, it turns out they had arrested none other than famed Las Vegas magician, Max Marvell. As you can see from the footage, he was able to pick the cell lock in mere seconds, and then walked right out disguised as an NYPD officer.”

  The camera went back to the artfully dimpled Carole who was saying, “I think there are going to be some people in trouble at NYPD.”

  Frank appeared and glanced back at his shapely associate. “It is an embarrassing situation, as Max Marvell is over sixty-two years old and got out of the cell in less than sixty-two seconds. I guess this proves the old guy still has some mad skills, Carole.”

  Carole was centered in the camera and continued, “In other news tonight—”

  Pro still had the remote in her hand, and she pressed the button to shut off the television, as she forced herself to stay calm. She walked through the apartment door and into the hall and put the phone to her ear. “You still there, Tom?”

  “I haven’t been thrown out of the building yet. But I do expect the LT at any moment to do that very thing.”

  “I am so sorry,” Pro fretted.

  “This points to what you said about the NYPD servers being hacked. How else could anyone get that video?”

  “It not only makes us look bad, it hurts the entire department,” Pro lamented.

  “Pro, look, I gotta tell you that it is only going to get worse. Channel Four has been playing it for hours, and once this goes viral, someone is going to find out you’re his daughter. Once they do that, they are probably going to suggest this was all a publicity stunt with you as an accomplice!”

  Pro sighed heavily. “I’ll fix it, Tom.”

  “How can you fix it?”

  “Easy. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the LT and resign,” Pro said as she fought to hold back tears.

  “Pro, that’s not a good answer! You’re a good cop. You have the makings of a great detective.”

  “I won’t bring shame on my precinct or the NYPD. Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve made my decision.”

  “But, Pro—”

  “In the meantime,” Pro said, taking a deep breath and straightening her back, “I am still a cop for one more day. I’d better get to work.”

  “Okay, Pro,” Chu said, defeated. “See you at 6:00.”

  Pro shut down her phone and stood in the hall trying to contain her emotions.

  So this was how it ended.

  Her father had come into town, and in four days she went from being a rising star to having to resign.

  Because of him.

  She took a deep breath and called her mother’s cell phone.

  “Hey, Pro, I was just talking about—”

  “Mom, I have to resign.” She felt like the entire weight of the world was on her heart.

  “What?” Elisha gasped. “Why?”

  “It was Max,” Pro said, as she fought to keep control. “The video of his escape stunt was just on the news. It’s going viral.”

  “It got a disease?”

  “No, Mom, it’s going all over the internet.” She gave a bitter laugh as a tear rolled down her cheek. “He’ll be more famous than he ever was. I guess that was what he was after. My career be damned.”

  “Honey, I don’t think your father would want this to happen. You’ve worked so hard.”

  “Well, I am going to solve this case. Momma, can you bring those papers I left at your place to me? I hate to take you from work—”

  “Honey, I’m the head of the design department. I can take off as much time as I want. Give me your address and I’ll get them for you.”

  Pro reeled off Malcolm Shaut’s address, and her mother said a few soothing words, but Pro was still too upset to really hear them.

  She ended the phone call, checked to make sure the door to Mister Shaut’s office was closed, and allowed the tears to fall.

  ∞∞∞

  A half hour later, a taxi pulled up in front of the building. Pro walked briskly down the stairs to meet her mother.

  Elisha stepped out of the cab with the box of items. She took one look at her daughter and pulled out several tissues as the cab pulled away.

  Pro took them gratefully and blew her nose. “I must look terrible.”

  “You look fine. Your eyes are a bit red, but you’re fine,” Elisha said, and pulled her daughter into an embrace. At first Pro was hesitant, but then hugged her mother bac
k.

  Elisha pulled back and handed Pro the box. “I put both sets of papers in them. I also left Max’s credit cards and driver’s license and his phone that was in there.”

  “Thanks, Momma,” Pro said. She actually did feel better, and sensed her self-control was back in place.

  “Believe me, when this is all done, your father is going to get a strong talking to from me.”

  “I never want to see him again,” Pro seethed. “Except in a cell.”

  “You figure out this case, and maybe it will all make sense.”

  “None of it makes sense, Momma,” Pro pointed out. “You have plans for this magic trick someone is trying to sell, then three murdered magicians, two who own stores and one that—I don’t know what the heck he did.”

  “Unless he was murdered for another reason,” Elisha suggested.

  Pro stopped and looked at her mother, stunned. “Yeah, that could be. Momma, I gotta get back to work.”

  “I’m going to walk around on this lovely spring day. I’m way ahead on my current project, and I haven’t had a day off in ages.”

  This made Pro smile. “Enjoy, Momma.”

  “I have faith in you, sweetie. If anyone can figure this out, it’s you.”

  As her mother walked away, Pro went over to the basement door, where both Bailey and Barker were standing. They snapped to attention.

  “You two all right, need a restroom or anything?”

  They both relaxed. Bailey spoke, “We’re fine, detective.”

  “Bailey if you’re here alone, you have my cell number if you need to be relieved?”

  “Yes, detective.”

  “Good, Barker, could you come with me please?”

  “Yes, detective.”

  They stepped out to the sidewalk, where Pro could talk in low tones. “Barker, Julie, I need you to do something for me.”

  “What do you need, detective?”

  “Go to the precinct and talk to Tom. Ask him to give you copies of the Medical Examiner reports on the victims.”

  “You want the autopsies?”

  “Whatever Tom has that you can print up and bring me, okay?”

  “You got it, detective.”

  Pro smiled. “Thanks, Julie, and you can call me Pro, okay? After all, you are dating my partner.”

  Barker gave a smile and headed down the block toward the precinct. Pro walked up the steps, back into the building, and inside the offices of Malcolm Shaut.

  ∞∞∞

  Sitting in the small waiting room, Pro pulled out her first set of pages and went on with the translation. It wasn’t enough to know what the messages said; she wanted to know the person who wrote them, to see if she could get some insights. The email sender “btg@magic” might just be the killer, but she could hardly glean much about him from the short messages.

  Each one was only a brief sentence or two, and they consisted of arrangements to exchange money or pass the final plans once the sale was complete. She decided most of the arranged rendezvous took place at a nearby coffee house, where there would be little chance of either person being spotted by interested parties as they planned their sale.

  So what went wrong? The messages between Floss and btg@magic.us seemed remarkably businesslike and simple. Make the sale, get the money, each take their cut. What happened so that Floss ended up dead?

  Who had motive to kill Floss or Tanner? Well, it could be one of the buyers. Michael Mystique was one and he ended up dead. But Adrian Novack, aka Adrianna Gray, and Sam Lovell had both been interested, yet they were alive, as was Malcom Shaut. Yet, she didn’t see any of the trio as killers.

  And who hacked the email list and downloaded the video from Max’s escape? And for what purpose?

  Was there someone not yet seen who was manipulating events and murdering people who got in his way?

  She focused on the next email, just as Barker phoned her.

  “Pro.”

  “I’m at the door, detective,” Julie Barker said.

  Pro got up and headed to the door. “Any luck?”

  “I have the three preliminary reports.”

  She opened the front door and Barker handed the papers in.

  “Any trouble?”

  “No, Tom was a gem about it. He said something about you resigning? Is that true?”

  “Sorry, Julie, that was something he said to his girlfriend and I’d like you to keep it to yourself.”

  “He was very upset about it.”

  “That’s tomorrow, Julie. For tonight, please keep an eye on that workshop, and I promise I’ll explain everything tomorrow before I leave.”

  Barker sighed. “Okay. But I just want to say that you should think it through. Not just for you, think about Tom. He really relies on you.”

  Pro nodded and quietly shut the door. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about it, as she was afraid the tears would return. She had one last night as a kick-ass homicide detective and wouldn’t let herself go all weak-kneed now.

  Back in the waiting room, Pro looked over the reports, comparing the conclusions made by the autopsy. What she saw hit her like a ton of bricks. She peeked into the apartment to see Shaut still working away. She turned the lock on the door so it wouldn’t completely close and shut it.

  She went to the end of the hall and called Tom.

  “Is everything all right, Pro?”

  “Yeah. Except my blabbermouth partner tells his girlfriend I’m resigning.”

  “Sorry, Pro. She knew I was upset, and I had to tell someone.”

  “I don’t think she’ll spread it around. Did you look at the autopsy?”

  “I glimpsed over it. Pretty straight forward. Death by strangulation, using a rope to garrote each victim.”

  “Yes, but the ME concluded that Albert Floss was strangled by a man with a dominant right hand, while the other two victims were choked by an assailant with a dominant left hand. Tom, we might be looking for two different killers!”

  “Or someone ambidextrous who is trying to fool us.”

  “That’s a stretch. And if he could use both hands, it’s the stance, the way the rope is used that decides the pressure on the neck, which is what led to the ME’s judgment about the perp.”

  “Is Max left-handed or right-handed?”

  “Jeez, I don’t know. I never thought about it.”

  “Well, I am about to leave and join you to escort Mister Shaut downtown.”

  “What time is it?” Pro said and glanced at her watch. “After 5:00? Wow, the day went fast.”

  “I assume there has been no trouble there.”

  “None at all. Shaut and his assistant have spent the day glued to their screens.”

  “Well, I think it is a good idea for us to not be at the precinct when that video is all over every channel tonight.”

  “See you soon,” Pro said and hung up. She was ready to go back in when the phone rang with UNKNOWN CALLER as the ID. She thought of letting it go to voicemail, but she was afraid it might be Max and answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Detective Thompson?” a deep voice said in her ear. The tone and the beauty of the man’s voice made her smile in spite of herself.

  “Yes, it is,” she replied, surprised how she felt like a schoolgirl.

  “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time. This is Luther Ardoin, the security officer you met the other day.”

  “I-I remember you quite well, Mister Ardoin.”

  “Oh good, and please call me Luther.”

  “Delighted to, and you can call me Pro.”

  “Well, from our brief meeting I could tell you certainly were a pro at everything you do.”

  What was it about this guy? wondered Pro. Just his voice makes me all gooey inside.

  “That’s…um…very kind, Luther,” Pro said, with the feeling that she was babbling like an idiot.

  “I was wondering if I could see you sometime, when you’re not busy.”

  Starting tomorro
w I’m free as a bird, with no job and no life, Pro thought.

  “Sure,” she said aloud. “When would be good for you?”

  “I was thinking either Wednesday or Friday, if you aren’t working,” he said. Then he gave a deep chuckle that also almost made her sigh. “Or tonight.”

  “I am…uh…on duty. But wait, have you heard of A Night of Wonder?”

  “Yeah, that magic show in that theater downtown. You like magic? I’m surprised. A lot of ladies don’t.”

  “You might say I was exposed to it at an early age.”

  “That’s great! I’m a big fan.”

  “I’ll arrange for a ticket. The show is at 8:00. I have to tell you, I am on duty. My partner and I are protecting someone.”

  “That’s fine. Maybe you can give me a minute or two.”

  “I’ll do my best, but you know what it’s like when you are on duty.”

  “Very much so, Pro. Well, then. Until tonight.”

  He ended the call, and Pro felt her heart flutter. She shook her head. It had been more than a year since any man affected her that way. Maybe it wouldn’t lead to anything, but she was allowed to have fun while it lasted.

  Feeling lighter, Pro when back into the apartment, closed and locked the door, and returned to the waiting room to continue working on the emails written in the Houdini code.

  18. French Drop

  Twenty minutes later, there was a buzz on the outer door that resounded through the apartment. Pro walked out of the waiting room and opened the door to let Tom Chu in.

  “Are they ready?” Chu asked.

  “Neither of them have moved.” Pro shrugged. “Perhaps the pair of us can get them going.”

  They headed for the door into Shaut’s office. “Any luck with the emails?”

  “I’m about three-quarters through and found another pair of initials that the sender referred to as a ‘potential problem.’”

  “Really, what are they?”

  “The initials are TM.”

  “Hmm? Anyone we’ve been in contact with who has those initials?”

  Pro shook her head. “But the message was weird. I’ll show it to you later.”

  They walked through the door and found Brent Williams in the waiting room, where he was pulling a pair of plastic garment bags and a large suitcase out of the closet.