While the crime scene team was working frantically to get all the shooting evidence collected before the rain washed it away, Skewski, Lark, and Joel drove to Rosemary’s Bistro. Most of the crowd had dissipated so they were able to pull Angelina Russell aside for questioning.
She took them to the storeroom, the only place large enough for them to talk privately.
“Did you call Simon’s home and ask him to come in and help with the dinner rush?” Joel asked her once he had gotten out his notebook.
“I called three times,” she said, a look of apprehension on her face. “Rose told me twice that he’d left but he hasn’t showed up yet.”
“That’s because he took four shots at Detective Smith and me at the Ephraim Marina and took off on his boat,” Lark said.
“Oh my God,” Angelina said. Her hands flew to her face.
“Were you in on the burglaries?” Skewski asked.
“What burglaries?”
“The burglaries of the summerhouses,” Skewski replied, noting the surprise on her face.
“I don’t know anything about them.” Angelina’s eyes darted back and forth between them.
“Have you met Celeste, Simon’s sister?” Skewski asked.
“No. Why would I know Simon’s sister?”
“She was caught in New Orleans trying to sell antiques that were stolen from homes in Door County. We though she might have been in the restaurant and Simon might have introduced you.”
“Never met her.”
“Angelina, Simon is in serious trouble,” Skewsi said. “We think he and his sister did these burglaries. We also think they are responsible for the attempted murder of Daisy DuBois in a botched robbery. If you know anything and you keep it from us, you could be charged with obstruction.”
“I don’t know anything about the robberies.” Angelina fidgeted with her long white apron. “I need to get back to work.” She turned and walked away from them. They let her go since they didn’t have any reason to keep her. They got in Lark’s SUV and drove to Sturgeon Bay to wait for Lacey to get out of surgery.
Thursday Morning
June 7—Edgewater Resort, Ephraim, Wisconsin
After spending half the night at Door County Memorial, Joel and Lark had finally gone home to get a little sleep. Lacey had come through two surgeries, one on her shoulder and one on her abdomen. She was intubated in critical care and listed in serious condition. She was stable after the surgery, but Gene had slept in a call room at the hospital to be sure the nursing staff had quick access to him in case she had any problems.
Joel and Lark met with Skewski in Lark’s suite at the Edgewater at nine the next morning to catch up on the case. Skewski brought a coffee cake his wife had baked that morning and Lark provided the coffee. They sat down around the bar in Lark’s kitchen.
“The Coast Guard found the Rose Queen docked over on Chambers Island. They spotted it around five A.M.,” Skewski said
“Where the hell is that?” Joel asked.
“West of Ephraim and Fish Creek out in Green Bay.” All three men looked out the window at the water. The morning was bright and clear and the water was calm. It was as if nothing had happened the night before. “The island is six miles out from Door County and the same distance from the Michigan border on the other side.”
“Shit.” Lark pounded his fist on the table. “Why didn’t the Coast Guard find his boat before this?”
Skewski bristled. “You ever try to search a body of water the size of Lake Michigan in a storm in the middle of the night? Think about all the open water. There are nine good-sized islands near the shore between Fish Creek and Ellison Bay. He could have gone west right across to the Escanaba side of Michigan or further north in the UP. He could have gone down to Green Bay and pulled into one of the big marinas. There are hundreds of miles of shoreline.” Skewski got up to top off his coffee.
“The Gradoutes have a family cabin over on Chambers Island. It’s an old, primitive place that no one ever uses.” Skewski grimaced at Joel and Lark. “It’s been in the family so long I forgot all about it. The island is about eleven miles around. Amos Card used to own the whole shebang. I don’t know if it’s still in the family or not. We’re checking with Rose to find out. The Coast Guard has impounded the Rose Queen. They’re going over it with a fine-toothed comb. I’ve got two deputies over there searching the island, but don’t hold your breath. One of my guys thinks the Gradoutes kept a fishing boat there. If they did, it’s gone now.”
“I’m starting to wonder if we’re ever going to catch this guy,” Lark said. “All he has to do is get to Canada and disappear on us. He and his sister have over a million dollars from the other auctions stashed somewhere.”
“We’ve already alerted Canada,” Skewski said. “Did you notice Simon’s SUV last night?”
“Notice it?” Lark asked. “We followed it up the road last night. Of course we noticed it.”
“Did you notice the gold lettering?”
Joel and Lark glanced at each other. They had both missed it.
“We checked that list of SUVs last night and the Gradoutes didn’t have a vehicle on it,” Joel said.
“There were two lists, one with SUV owners in Door County and the other with SUVs registered in Wisconsin. It wasn’t on either list,” Skewski said.
“It’s licensed in Illinois.”
“Damn. You think that’s the SUV Mrs. Whitlock saw?” Lark asked.
“We can’t find anyone else with a connection to Larsen that has a dark-colored SUV with gold lettering.”
“Wonder who picked him up?” Joel said.
“I say we talk to his gal Friday at Rosemary’s again. After all, she provided his alibi,” Skewski said as he put their plates and cups in the sink.
They caught Angelina in the Hill Top Café parking lot just as she was leaving to drive to Green Bay for produce. She reluctantly agreed to answer more of their questions. She escorted then to the dining room and seated them at an empty table in the corner. The men declined coffee. Angelina got herself some water and sat down to talk with them.
“I told you before I don’t know a thing about the robberies,” she said as she unscrewed the top of her water bottle.
“An SUV similar to Simon’s was spotted in a cul-de-sac near the golf course around the same time Larsen was killed,” Skewski said. “Our witness describes a woman picking up a man who looked like Simon. He put a set of golf clubs in the SUV. He left a golf cart with Larsen’s clubs in it in one of the yards.”
Angelina’s face went pale. She twirled the water bottle between her hands, not meeting their eyes.
“We think the driver was you.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“I don’t think we’re mistaken. I think you and Simon were having an affair. Did he ask you to lie for him? To protect him? Did he tell you he’d leave Rose and marry you?”
Angelina said nothing.
“You really thought he’d leave Rose and all her money and connections?” Joel shook his head. “Angelina, Rose and Simon were building a new life together with the bed-and-breakfast. Now we have a witness who saw you pick Simon up after Paul was killed, and he’s left you behind to take the heat for what he’s done.”
“There couldn’t have been any witnesses,” Angelina whispered. “Simon said the women living in those houses had gone out of town for the weekend.”
“Simon was mistaken,” Skewski said. “As the driver of the getaway car you are an accessory to murder. The only way you can help yourself is to tell us what happened.”
Angelina closed her eyes and shook her head. “I swear I didn’t know anything about this until after it happened. Then it was too late. Simon told me if I said anything, I’d be arrested and we’d both be charged with murder.”
“If you cooperate with us, we will do the best we can for you with the DA,” Skewski said.
She nodded. “I’ve never had anything more than a parking ticket. I can’t believe my life
has gotten so screwed up. The Sunday that Paul Larsen was murdered, we did drive down to Sturgeon Bay to shop. Simon is obsessed with using fresh produce so we shop every day. When he picked me up that morning, he had his golf clubs with him. He said he was going to play a round of golf with Paul Larsen. On the way back from Sturgeon Bay I dropped him off at the entrance to the park. Paul was right there with a golf cart to pick him up because Simon had called him a few minutes before we got there. Simon asked me to keep my cell phone on and be ready to pick him up when he called.” She stopped and took a sip of water.
“I expected him to take three or four hours.” She glanced up at them. “I was kind of mad that he would plan a golf game on a busy Sunday brunch day and stick me with all the work. About an hour and a half after I dropped him off, he called me and asked me to come and pick him up. He sounded out of breath and I had trouble understanding him. He told me to pick him up in the cul-de-sac up on top of the hill past the golf course. When I asked him why, he hung up on me.
“When I got there, he drove a golf cart up near the road. He was the only person in it but there were two sets of golf clubs. He put his clubs in the car and we left. They only thing he would tell me was that he and Paul had gotten into a fight about the zoning and converting the house into a bed-and-breakfast.”
“Did he tell you that he’d stabbed Paul and shoved him off the cliff on the eighth hole?” Joel flipped to another page in his notebook.
“Not until after I heard Paul was dead.” She picked at the label on her water bottle. “That’s when he told me that if I said a word, I would go jail as a accessory to murder for picking him up.” She looked at the sheriff, her eyes full of anguish. “I swear, I had no idea what he was going to do to Paul.”
Skewski nodded.
“Did you ever meet Simon’s sister?”
Angelina held her hands up in front of her. “I swear I don’t know anything about Simon’s sister or the robberies. He spent a lot of time running between here and Rosemary’s. Maybe he met her then.” She looked over at Joel. “I do know about that other state police detective getting robbed.”
Joel leaned forward. “You mean when Lacey got her purse stolen?”
“Yes. We were driving past the antique shop when we saw her pull into the parking lot. Paul pulled onto the road up behind the shop and sneaked down through the woods to her car. He made me keep the car running so we could get out of there in a hurry. He came back with one of those notebooks.” She pointed at the small spiral notebook Joel was taking notes in. “He went through it to see what you all knew about the murder.”
“Lacey wasn’t investigating the murder, I was.”
“He went through the notebook looking for information. I thought it was about the murder,” Angelina replied. “He never mentioned the burglaries.”
“What did he do with the notebook?” Joel asked.
Angelina shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“What about the night Daisy was shot?”
“All I know is that he left right after Rose went home and came back just as I was locking up Rosemary’s. He told me if anyone asked, he was here all night either out in the kitchen or in back working on the books.”
“You didn’t ask him where he’d been?’
“I didn’t ask and I didn’t want to know. After I realized he’d murdered Paul, we weren’t that close. I felt more like his prisoner than anything else. Are you going to arrest me?”
Skewski stood up. “Yes, we are, but we’ll work with the DA to see that he goes easy on you as long as you agree to testify against Simon.”
Angelina nodded and tears began to course down her face as Skewski read her her rights.
Thursday Afternoon
June 7—Edgewater Resort, Ephraim, Wisconsin
As the day wore on, more news about Simon Gradoute poured in. Joel, Lark, and the Door County Sheriff’s Department were kept busy tracking down the many tips that came into the office. Simon was sighted in every major community in Door County, some of them several times. None of the tips panned out.
By noon they had gotten word that Camellia and Robert DuBois’s boat, Flower Power, was gone. It had disappeared from the dock outside their summerhouse just up the road from the Gradoutes’. It had been replaced by an old fishing dinghy that one of the sheriff’s deputies thought had come from Chambers Island. It was confirmed that Camellia and Robert were in Madison with Daisy. The Wisconsin State Police and the Coast Guard put out another APB to all towns and marinas on Lake Michigan.
At seven that night they got a report from a marina owner in Escanaba, Michigan, that the Flower Power was moored at his dock. It had pulled in at ten that morning. The operator was a middle-aged male sailing alone. He had put one month of berth rental on a Visa card and signed the papers under the name Robert DuBois, the name the boat was licensed under. He’d shown an Illinois driver’s license under the same name. One of the marina workers had driven Mr. DuBois to a car rental agency. He had leased a Ford Explorer using the same ID. He had put it on a Visa under the name Robert DuBois.
The Wisconsin State Police questioned Robert DuBois about how Simon could have gotten his ID and credit card. Mr. DuBois had no idea as he was in possession of both. Forgery was added to Simon’s growing list of crimes.
Everyone assumed that Gradoute was trying to get to Canada. With an eight-hour head start he could have gotten as far as International Falls, Minnesota, or Detroit, Michigan. An APB was sent out all along the border between Canada and the United States.
Despite vigorous protests from Celeste’s attorney in New Orleans, the Louisiana courts agreed to extradite Celeste. The Canadians had no objections to her return to Wisconsin, so Joel flew out of Green Bay that night to escort her back to Door County for questioning.
Friday Morning
June 8—Gradoute House, Ephraim, Wisconsin
“I’m telling you there’s no barrel of glass on this floor and I wish you would forget about it and just move on,” John said as he followed Ann down the second-floor hallway of the Gradoute House. “You’re driving me crazy with this obsession.”
Ann ignored him and walked into yet another of the twenty bedrooms. The walls were covered in cream-colored wallpaper strewn with yellow daffodils and pink tulips. The bed was dressed with a yellow chenille bedspread and piled with floral needlepoint pillows. She checked the adjoining bathroom and scrutinized the walls inside the closet as if a secret doorway were about to appear.
Ann wandered into the next bedroom. “I’ve been over and over my notes from Minevra’s letters. That glass is either still here or someone sneaked it out right under the family’s nose.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “What did they do with the barrel and the straw the glass was packed in? What did they do with the glass?”
“Who cares?” John asked as he followed her into another room.
“I do.” Ann whirled around and they bumped into each other.
John grabbed her arms to steady her. “Rose said we could go over the house while she’s in Madison with Daisy. We’ll go through the place from top to bottom.” He caught Ann’s eye. “But, you have to promise me that if we don’t find anything, you’ll drop this and move on.”
“Deal.” Ann kissed him and then opened the closet door.
Five hours later they sat at the kitchen table, exhausted from searching every room from the basement to the belvedere. “I’m sorry we didn’t find anything,” John said as he skimmed his ice tea glass across his forehead.
“Me too. It was worth a try.” Ann shoved herself up from the table and carried her ice tea glass to the sink. She bent down and kissed John on her way out of the kitchen. “I’m going back to the Edgewater to take a shower. Call me and let me know what you want to do for dinner.”
She walked out into the bright sunlight and got in her car thinking about how sad it was that they would never know what Thomas Lee had made for his sister. She started her car and backed out of the driveway thinking about
the how hard he must have worked on that gift. She conjured up a picture of the hot area of the Fenton Glass Factory. Just the thought of all the heat coming off the furnaces made her adjust the air-conditioning. She glanced down at the dashboard and heard a god-awful screeching noise coming from outside the car. She slammed on the brakes and looked out her window to see a flock of turkeys dithering around her car.
“Shit, shit, shit!” she yelled as she put the car in park and un-buckled her seat belt. She found it hard to kill mice when they invaded her house, and she hated the thought of running over a turkey. She squared her shoulders, got out of the car, and stepped into a moving sea of turkeys. They ran in all directions cackling and screeching as they tried to get away from her. She walked around the car looking for a dead or injured bird. There wasn’t one in sight. She planted her hands on her hips and shook her head as she watched the last of the birds fade into the undergrowth in the woods surrounding Larsen’s gatehouse. She’d always heard that turkeys were so dumb that they’d hold their heads up and drown themselves in a rainstorm. Now she believed it.
A flash of sunlight nearly blinded her. She put her hand to her forehead to shade her eyes and tried to see what was creating the reflection. Sunrays danced through the trees and glinted off a window near the roof of Larsen’s gatehouse. Ann walked back down the road, studying the building. From the front it looked like an old two-story house. The first floor was made of stone with the openings where the old garage doors had been filled in with wood siding. The second floor was all old wood siding. When Ann walked around to the side, she noted the windows in what must be the attic.
She had read Minevra’s letters so many times that she easily conjured up the words: I remember my uncle Ludwig helping Thomas roll the barrel up to the attic. It looked very heavy and they were groaning and laughing as they shoved it up step after step. Uncle Ludwig shook his finger at me and said it was a secret and not to ever tell anyone where it was. Ann’s mind raced. Minevra hadn’t said it was the attic of Gradoute House. Everyone just assumed it was.
Death at the Door Page 27
