She grabbed her bag and headed to Kent’s place, so she’d be right there when he found out who those people were. They were the key to the robbery and to who killed Glen Welch.
Chapter 22
When she knocked on his door, Kent opened it immediately. “Got him.”
“The man on the tape?”
“Yes.” Once she was inside, he closed and bolted the door behind her.
“Who is he?”
“Sullivan Manns.”
The name didn’t ring any bells. “Never heard that name. Where can I find him?”
“Last known address is right here.” He told her the address. “We could walk there in ten minutes.”
“What about the woman?”
“Can’t get an ID on her yet. I’ll keep working on it.” Kent sat back down in front of his computer. “I didn’t know you were coming here. Did you make sure you weren’t followed?”
“I always do. I need to find out how that man got the jewelry. Was he one of the robbers or did someone ask him to sell it? And who’s that woman? How can I find out? I’d love to knock on his door and ask this Sullivan Manns fellow, but he wouldn’t tell me.”
“You’ve got that right. What you need are some thugs. If some beefy men show up at his door, he’s more likely to spill all.”
“I don’t know. I’m not a fan of violence.”
“No one is, but if you want the truth this might be the quickest way. Marty would know people.”
“Okay, I'll call him. I need the truth, but only if no one’s caught. Got a cell phone I can use?”
She’d already turned hers off on the drive there. He reached into his desk drawer, pulled one out and tossed it to her. She knew Marty’s number by heart.
“Speak,” Marty said.
Gretel was taken aback. “Marty, it’s me.”
“Ah, my desperate crooked friend. I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
She ignored his nonsense. “I’m with Kent.” She gave him a quick rundown of the situation and what she wanted him to organize.
“Why can’t you let the FBI handle it since you’re now in cahoots?”
“I’m not in cahoots. I’ve got a nasty woman trying to get rid of me. She’s got a mad crush on my boss. Not everyone’s happy I’m there.”
“I can’t understand that.” He chuckled.
“The point is I’ve been nearly killed thrice, so I want to know what’s going on.”
“'Thrice,' did you say? That’s not good. You always have been a control freak. Need to have your hand in every pie, need to cross those Ts and dot those Is.”
“So, do you know anyone threatening-looking who can knock on this guy’s door and ask questions?”
“Does the sun come up every morning and go down every evening? You should know I do.”
“Good. I don’t want him hurt. I just want him to think he could be hurt so he’ll tell them what they need to know.”
“Have Kent email me the deets. I need to know what questions you want asked and nothing wishy-washy. We’ll only get one go at this.”
“Thanks, Marty. I owe you one.”
“Hell no! I’m billing you for it and these guys won’t come cheap. Later.” He ended the call.
She turned to Kent. “He said—”
“I heard. Emailing him now.” He turned back to his computer and tapped busily on the keys. “Done. Now, how about a movie and a pizza? The latest Batman movie’s out. I’ve been saving up to watch it with someone.”
She couldn’t think of anything worse. She wasn’t a fan of superheroes and she was trying to cut down on carbs. Still, she didn’t have many friends and he had fewer. “Sounds great and I am a bit hungry.”
A smile brightened his face. “I’ll order the pizza.”
“Did you send him the surveillance video to make sure they get the right person?”
“All done. Marty never replies. I’ll check to see if he’s opened it yet.” He turned back to the computer. “Yep. All done.”
She was relieved.
After her late night of batman movie watching and pizza eating, Kent accompanied her to her car. She drove home nervously, hoping she wouldn’t see that black car again.
When she was back inside the safety of her apartment, she collapsed onto her bed. It took no time for her to fall asleep.
At eight the next morning, she opened her cell phone to see if there was any news from either Kent or Marty.
Before she could dial out, Kent was calling her.
“Hi.”
“I have an email from Marty. His friends paid a late-night visit to Sullivan Manns. He spilled his guts. Marty’s words not mine.”
“Tell me.”
“The man’s a friend of Gizelle Butterworth and she gave it to him to sell.” The phone dropped from her hands and she slid to the floor. Gizelle was Ryan’s half-sister. They had the same father. She’d only just joined the dots. She grabbed hold of the phone. “Kent, do you realize that Ryan and Gizelle are half-siblings?”
“Gretel … don’t tell me you’ve only just figured it out. You said he’s a Butterworth and so’s she. Earl Butterworth is their father.”
She rubbed her head feeling like a fool. “It’s so weird ... and she’s a friend of Hazel’s. What are the odds of meeting her half-brother halfway around the world?”
“Truth is stranger than fiction. It’s a small world, and all that.”
“I’m an idiot for not seeing that sooner. I don’t know why it didn’t click.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had a lot going on with being in prison and everyone trying to kill you.”
Gretel sighed. It wasn’t everyone, but it felt like it. “That’s true. If Gizelle is involved that means Ryan could’ve helped her.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going in to see Jack. I’ll talk to you later.” She got off the phone quickly and got ready for ‘work.’
Gretel walked into Jack Fletcher’s office and put the man’s name in front of him. “This is the guy who sold the Cleopatra bracelet, Sullivan Manns.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve just been notified of that. How did you find out?”
“I asked around.” She gave a nervous cough hoping Jack wasn’t going to insist she tell him more.
He didn’t. He turned to his computer and tapped some keys and the man’s rap sheet came up. “Minor drug charges. No theft.”
“He’s a friend of Gizelle’s. She was the woman in the car.”
He swung his chair around to face her. “Welch’s stepdaughter? Butterworth’s daughter. She goes by the last name of Welch, but she’s not a Welch.”
“That’s right. Gizelle had Sullivan Manns do her dirty work. She had him take the bracelet in to sell it.”
“That’s new information.” He turned back to his computer and as he tapped on the keys, he said, “I’m not even going to ask how you know that. Everything’s got to be by the book. I’ll have him picked up and brought in for questioning. Once he sees himself on the footage, he’ll confess. Surely.” He made a call while she paced around the room walking off her nervous energy. When he ended the call, he stared at her. “Now we wait. Once he mentions Gizelle, we’ll go pick her up.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
“She knows me.”
“This is the first time I’m hearing about that.”
“I said one of Josephine’s husbands was a contributor to my father’s ministry and I told you I’d been to their house as a kid. Wait, that doesn’t fit the timeframe. She must’ve been married to Welch when I was at the house. Maybe it was Glen Welch who donated to the ministry and not Butterworth.” She rubbed her head. Most of her childhood was a blur and that was the way she preferred to keep it. There were so few happy memories.
“You said before, you knew each other as children, you and Gizelle?”
“That’s right. We met when we w
ere young. I have only seen her once briefly since then. I know my sister keeps in touch with her. She’d know who I am. That’s why I was doing my best to make sure Gizelle and her mother didn’t see me at the funeral, and I don’t think they did.”
“She doesn’t have to see you.”
She breathed easy. “Good.”
“You can be in another room. The disadvantage of that is you won’t be able to ask questions.”
With a hand over her heart she sighed with relief. “I can live with that.”
“It won’t be happening today. By the time they find Sullivan Manns and bring him in, it’ll be late this afternoon or even tonight. Then they’ll pick up Gizelle tomorrow.”
“I hope she’s still in the country by then.”
“I asked each member of the family not to leave town.”
“Okay.” She jumped to her feet. “I’ll wait to hear from you tomorrow, then.”
“Yes. I’ll have someone drive you home. I’ve got paperwork I’ve got to finish.”
“No. I’m okay.”
He frowned at her. “I insist.”
She shook her head. “Please don’t fuss. I’m okay.”
“Call me as soon as you get home then.”
“Okay.” She turned and walked out of his office. When she continued past Monica’s office, she felt the agent staring at her.
It was eight o’clock in the morning when Jack called. “Gizelle is being interviewed at two today.”
“Okay, I’ll be there. No need to send someone for me. I was all right last night and I’ll be all right today. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Be in my office at one.” She heard the click of him ending the call. He seemed upset or maybe it was just that he was busy.
When she arrived at his office, he wasn’t there. Right on one, she got a text to say he was running late.
How late? she wondered as she pushed the phone back into her pocket.
She got out of the chair and closed his office door. He had to be at least ten minutes away to have thought to notify her. Wanting to get to know him better, she sat behind his desk and opened his two drawers.
The left side drawer had nothing but stationery, but when she opened the right side, there was a thick file. She pulled it out and opened it. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw one newspaper clipping after another. These were her robberies. Of course she wasn’t mentioned by name. Until now she’d been convinced no one knew the length and breadth of everything she’d done. Wrong. Here it was, all documented and all in one place. He’d been aware of her. She looked through the dates of the articles. They went back four years.
She was frozen, staring down at them wondering why he hadn’t mentioned he knew this much about her. He’d referred to her crimes but not in any detail. She’d been right not to let her guard down with him.
The other thing that ran through her mind was, why did he leave it in his drawer like that? Was he hoping she’d come across it? Did anyone else know about his file?
Either way, it didn’t sit well with her. She placed all the clippings back in the folder where they’d been and returned it to the drawer. When she was back on 'her' side of the desk, she opened a file on the Glen Welch case. She flipped through the pages until she found the identity of the man they found drunk at the Welch house the night she was there. There was a whole sheet on him along with his photo and, going by the address, he was a neighbor of Glen Welch. He looked to be in his seventies. This was definitely not the man who’d grabbed her foot that night.
She closed the file and then thought she should open the door. If Jack arrived to see the door closed he’d think it strange.
When she opened it, Jack was right there in front of her with his hand on the handle.
Think fast. “Here you are. I’ve been waiting for you. I had the door shut because I felt odd sitting there alone with you not being here. Some of these people around here intimidate me.”
He smiled as she stepped back into his office. “I told you not to worry about Monica.”
“How did you know I was talking about her?”
“It wasn’t hard. Sorry to keep you waiting. I needed to follow up on a few leads.” He sat behind his desk and since he didn’t say where those leads were or what they were, she had to wonder if it was about her.
“That’s okay. Is Gizelle coming here or will she be at the police station?”
“At the station. The way the traffic is, we’d be better off walking.”
“Oh, right now?”
He tapped a few keys on his computer. “I’ll just check my emails and then we can go.”
“I could’ve met you there.”
“Better that we arrive together.”
“Ah, yes of course.” She sat quietly and waited for him to finish what he was doing.
They walked together as much as they could while weaving in and out of the busy lunchtime pedestrians. It was hard to keep up with Jack’s long strides and she was grateful she’d worn semi-comfortable shoes rather than the stilettoes she had nearly chosen.
When they arrived at the station, they met Officer Harvey and Seargent Wilkes who were interviewing Gizelle. Then they were ushered to a room where they could watch people being interviewed.
Gretel sat on a chair while Jack sat on the desk next to her. “Let’s hope she doesn’t bring a lawyer with her.”
“I’d be surprised if she didn’t,” Gretel said.
Right on time, they watched through the two-way mirror as Gizelle and a man in a suit were shown into the interview room.
Jack said, “That’s Glen Welch’s brother again.”
“It makes sense she’d bring him since her mother is using him as her lawyer, too. Keeping it in the family I suppose.”
Seargent Wilkes pushed a photo of Sullivan Manns toward her. “Do you know this man?”
“I do. I gave him my mother’s bracelet to sell. It’s not a crime. My mother would’ve given it to me if I’d asked her.”
Officer Harvey picked up a sheet of paper. “Maybe so except it was listed among the stolen goods in the paperwork that your mother gave us and her insurance company. That is a problem. Why did you sell it?”
Reginald Welch, acting as her lawyer, said, “You don’t have to answer that.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got nothing to hide. The truth was I needed the money. Things have been tough.”
“How did you come by it?”
She moved uncomfortably in the seat. “I ... borrowed it, some time ago, and Mom forgot I had it.”
“Were you aware your friend offered a false ID in order to sell the bracelet?”
“How would I know he’d do that? I’m not a good negotiator, so that’s why I sent him in.”
Gretel whispered to Jack, “His story was he only wanted enough money to buy a set of golf clubs. Hardly a good negotiating tactic. She’s lying.”
“Yes, and he had that story about the maiden aunt in a nursing home.”
“Are you going to charge me with something?” The defiance in Gizelle’s voice was clearly evident. She knew they couldn’t touch her with the story she’d concocted.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
The officer joined Jack and Gretel in the room. “Would you like to ask a few questions, Agent Fletcher?”
“Yes, I would.” Jack left the room and the officer stayed in the room with Gretel.
The officer and Gretel looked on. Every question Jack asked was blocked by the lawyer. Gizelle had no comment to make about anything. Ten minutes later, Jack was back in the room with Gretel and Officer Harvey.
“I’m sure I could’ve got her to talk if it wasn’t for her lawyer. How long do you think you can keep her here today?” Jack asked Harvey.
“Couple of hours, tops. Unless her lawyer gets impatient.”
“Keep her for as long as you can. I just want to talk to her mother before Gizelle gets a chance to contact her. It’s an hour’s drive from here.”
�
�You’d better get started.”
Gretel and Jack walked out the door.
“What are you thinking?” Gretel asked on the way to the car.
“I think I was about to ask you what you thought.”
“Sounds to me like her mother’s guilty. It was an inside job. Gizelle is a bad liar.”
“Do you think that piece was leaked to make the robbery look genuine?”
“Possibly. But it does seem a bit odd that she’d be so involved in the sale of it. Sitting in the car like she was. Unless she didn’t trust him. That could be it. I mean the piece is worth a few hundred thousand so she might’ve been making sure he did exactly what he was told. That’s why she was watching him, I guess, to make sure he got the job done.”
They got into his car. “I’ll be interested to see what Josephine has to say about this bracelet and I hope we get there before Gizelle forewarns her.”
“I’m thinking if Gizelle is involved in her stepfather’s death, then might Sullivan Manns, who sold the bracelet, be an associate of the man who pulled the trigger?”
“It’s possible.”
“I think so. How many criminals would they know?”
Jack glanced at her. “Her husband was a lawyer.”
Gretel had to smile. He had a good point.
When they arrived at the Welch mansion, the maid who answered the door showed them to a living room where they waited for Josephine. As Gretel sat there, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d left the safe, with the top of that secret section lying against the wall. The family had covered up that fact, unless they hadn’t noticed it. Now she was going to come face-to-face with Josephine Welch after she’d been sneaking about in her home.
Josephine walked into the room with a flourish and Gretel and Jack stood. Gretel wasn’t sure if the etiquette was that she should’ve stood too, but Josephine’s presence seemed to demand it. Her golden-brown hair was perfectly piled on top of her head and her makeup was flawless. “Ah, Agent Fletcher.” She reached out her hand and Jack shook it.
“Yes, and this is ..”
She looked at Gretel with a spark of recognition. “Hazel?”
Shiny Things Page 12
