Fort Point (Maine Justice Book 2)

by Davis, Susan Page

  “What’s his name, please?”

  “Matthew Beaulieu.”

  She made a few keystrokes on her computer keyboard.

  “Two Beaulieus are on board. Matthew and Brenda. They’re seated together. Looks like the plane will be on time.”

  “Thank you.”

  He went back to where Eddie was.

  “The plane’s on time. Beaulieu and his wife are on it.”

  The chairs were filling quickly. Harvey looked carefully at each person waiting. Finally he thought he had spotted Denise Beaulieu Marston, Matthew’s sister—a fifty-year-old woman by herself, wearing a wedding ring. She had long, tapered fingers. Piano fingers. Matthew had attended his sister’s recital the night of the burglary.

  He walked over to her chair. She was watching the gate anxiously, clutching a shoulder bag close beside her.

  “Excuse me,” he ventured, “I’m Captain Larson with the—”

  She jumped up. “Matt told me you’d be here. I’m Denise. We spoke on the phone.”

  “Yes. Your brother and his wife should be here soon.”

  “I’m excited about it. Matt hasn’t been home in three years.”

  “You’ve met his wife before?”

  “Oh, yes, they’ve been married over twenty years. He’s been in the Navy, you know. Met her in Norfolk, Virginia. It will be good to see them both.”

  “Are they staying with you?” Harvey asked.

  “Yes. I’ve got the guest room ready.”

  “How long are they staying?”

  “Until next Thursday.”

  Harvey excused himself and went to where Eddie stood.

  “His sister?” Eddie asked.

  “Yes. She’s friendly.”

  “Good. There’s a plane landing now. Not sure what airline.”

  Five minutes later, people began filing in through the gate. Harvey stood back, watching Denise Marston and the passengers. Eddie stood a few feet away, also watching the incoming queue. Those arriving either fell into the arms of loved ones or strode off alone toward the exit or the baggage area.

  At last, Denise stepped forward with pleasure on her face, her arms extended to her brother and his wife. Harvey gave them a few seconds for greetings, but stepped up when they turned toward baggage claim.

  “Commander Beaulieu? I’m Harvey Larson.”

  Beaulieu held out his hand. “I was expecting you. This is my wife, Brenda.”

  “Ma’am.” Eddie came close, and Harvey introduced him to the three.

  “Is this necessary?” asked Brenda.

  “Yes, ma’am. We need to talk to your husband as soon as possible, and we also want to be sure he’s safe.”

  “We’re going to my house, in Camden,” said Denise.

  “We’d like to question your brother first. I’m sorry if that’s an inconvenience, but it is very important.”

  They all looked at each other. Beaulieu said, “All right, where? Is there a place we can talk here?”

  “We’d prefer the police station, sir.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Denise. “You’re not taking him into custody, are you?”

  “No, ma’am. We just need a secure place to talk. We’ll wait while they get their baggage, then we’ll take him to the police station. If you and Mrs. Beaulieu want to follow us in and wait, you can.”

  “I’d better call my husband.” Denise took out her phone. Harvey nodded to Eddie, and he followed her. Harvey stood behind the Beaulieus at the baggage carousel. By the time they had retrieved three bags, Denise and Eddie were back. Eddie shrugged at him, indicating he’d heard nothing suspicious, and they went over to the garage. Harvey firmly suggested Beaulieu ride in his vehicle, and he got in the front. Eddie sat behind them, and Harvey waited on the access road for Mrs. Marston to pay for parking and catch up.

  At the station, they took the guests up the elevator. Eddie seated the ladies in the break room and detailed Paula to bring them coffee. Harvey took Beaulieu straight into the interview room. He turned on the tape recorder and spoke the identifying information first.

  “All right, Commander.”

  Beaulieu cleared his throat. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Start with the burglary.”

  “All right. I don’t remember the date.” Harvey gave it. “Yes. It was my senior year. My friend Philip Whitney went out with some other kids that night, and took part in a burglary. They tied up the owner of the house and taped his mouth shut, and he suffocated. They didn’t intend to kill him.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Philip told me several years later.”

  “Did he also tell you who was there?”

  “Yes. Luke Frederick drove the car. It was his car. He didn’t go in the house.”

  “Who went in with Philip?”

  He hesitated only a moment. “David Murphy and Tom Nadeau.”

  A surge of relief washed through Harvey. He’d known it, but the fear that he was totally wrong had nagged him.

  “Philip always felt guilty afterward,” Beaulieu said. “He had taken part in it, although reluctantly. And he had lied about it and gone free. I think that bothered him the most. He was never sure if his own parents believed him. He wanted them to trust him, but he didn’t want them to be gullible enough to believe a lie.”

  “Did he speak to you about confessing?”

  “Yes. At that point, he said he should have admitted it and done his time.”

  “Why didn’t he?”

  “They had a pact. No one would tell, no matter what. And he didn’t.”

  “What happened fourteen years after the robbery?”

  “Martin Blake published his first book, and the story of the robbery was in it. He put a lot of details in it, and the boys, men then, were scared people would recognize them.”

  “Do you think Blake had inside information?”

  “No, most of what he used was in the papers. Only, Phil Whitney had been acquitted. In the book, Blake had him convicted. He changed a few things, but Phil was obviously the one convicted in the book. I went home to visit soon after the book came out, and Phil told me then he was going to own up to it.”

  “He wrote out his confession instead of coming to the police station and making a statement,” Harvey said.

  “Yes. He told me the day before he died that he’d talked to each of the other three who’d been in on the burglary. Luke was really scared and asked him not to tell. Phil told him he should confess, too, that he probably would get a light sentence because he didn’t go in the house. He told me that he and Luke were going to the police together the next day. But he died early in the morning.”

  “And Luke didn’t confess.”

  “No.”

  “And the others?”

  Beaulieu cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything. Harvey knew Eddie was in Observation.

  “Ed, could you bring us some ice water, please?”

  Beaulieu looked startled. “Your partner is listening?”

  “The world is listening, Commander.” Harvey nodded toward the tape recorder.

  Beaulieu put his head in his hands. A minute later, Eddie came in with a tray holding a pitcher of water and two glasses. Harvey poured a glass for Beaulieu.

  “Thank you.” Beaulieu took it and drank half of it down. Eddie went out.

  “All right, sir. What happened when Philip Whitney talked to David Murphy and told him he was on the verge of confessing?”

  “David told him not to. He was a lawyer and was running for the legislature at that time. It would have ruined him.”

  “Did he threaten Whitney?”

  “I don’t know. Somebody did. Murphy or Nadeau, or both. Phil told me they said they would kill him if he told the police they’d been involved in the burglary. He said he didn’t care, he’d rather be dead than live the way he was. Then they said they would hurt his sister and his little brother.”

  “When you say ‘they,’ you mean either
or both.”

  “Yes. I’m not sure if they both said it.”

  It was all hearsay, and Harvey wasn’t sure there was a way around that. “Did anyone else know about this?”

  “I don’t know. They might have told somebody, but I doubt it. Philip said he hadn’t told anyone but me.”

  “Did they also threaten Luke Frederick?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So what did Philip do?”

  “Well, Tom told him after a while that he could go ahead and confess but not name the others. He told him to write it all down so he wouldn’t mess up. Tom wanted to go over it and make sure he didn’t implicate them. Then, if it was okay, he said Phil could take it to the police. But Phil had to promise not to tell them anything, just give them the paper and stick with what it said.”

  “So, the paper wasn’t a suicide note?”

  “No. Phil showed it to me that day.”

  “The day before he was found dead in his parents’ back yard.”

  “Yes. He wasn’t planning to kill himself. He was planning to turn himself in.”

  “You actually saw the note, in Whitney’s own handwriting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he have the gun? The handgun that was stolen in the burglary?”

  “I don’t think so. He never said anything about it to me.”

  Harvey leaned over the table. “Commander Beaulieu, this can’t be used as evidence, but I’d like your opinion on the day Philip Whitney died. You seem to be the only one he confided in. What happened that day?”

  He closed his eyes and said slowly, “I think Thomas Nadeau or David Murphy brought the gun to Phil’s parents’ house and shot him and placed the gun in his hand.” He looked Harvey in the eye then.

  Harvey went back over everything, asked him questions on the details and Whitney’s wording. Beaulieu’s story was consistent. At last Harvey turned to the mirror and motioned Eddie to come in. Harvey gave him the tape, to take to Paula, who would type up the statement.

  Harvey turned to Beaulieu. “All right, you’re going to be at your sister’s in Camden until Thursday?”

  “Yes.”

  “We need you to stay available for the next few days. The state police may want to talk to you, to see if this has a bearing on the Frederick case. Please don’t leave the area without informing us.” Harvey gave him his business card. “If you think of anything else you can add to this statement, or if at any time you don’t feel safe, call me. We can get you protection if you request it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Beaulieu pocketed the card.

  They waited another ten minutes, until Paula came in with the transcript. Beaulieu read it silently and signed it. He looked up at Harvey.

  “I can go now?”

  “Yes.” Harvey hated to let him. As long as Beaulieu was in the police station, he had a living, breathing witness. “Just remember what I said, and stay available, and be careful.”

  He and Eddie sat down and looked at each other when they were alone in the office.

  “What now?” Eddie asked.

  “We need warrants for Murphy and Nadeau, for the death of Richard Fairley.”

  “Hearsay. Will it be enough?”

  “I hope so,” Harvey said, “in light of two of the participants being killed. Beaulieu swears he saw the note. That should carry some weight. But I also hope to have more when Cathy Wagner and Joel Dixon have been here.”

  “Murphy or Nadeau must have kept the gun,” Eddie said.

  Harvey sighed. “We can’t convict them on speculation. I’m going to run this by Mike.” He called, and Mike told him to come right up.

  “Overall, Nadeau and Murphy look pretty black,” Mike said, when he’d read Beaulieu’s statement, “but if you break it down into four cases, every one of them is pretty thin.”

  “Joel Dixon saw Nadeau hit Frederick,” Harvey said.

  “He can only identify him by his clothing,” Mike pointed out.

  “Beaulieu placed Nadeau and Murphy at the burglary.”

  “Hearsay from a dead guy. Beaulieu wasn’t there. That gun,” Mike said. “Where was it between the burglary and Whitney’s death?”

  Harvey didn’t have an answer.

  “And you’ve got nothing on the Blake murder.”

  Harvey knew it was true.

  Mike said, “Hold off on your warrants. David Murphy isn’t going anywhere. He’s too public, and he’s got this kickback thing keeping him busy.”

  “What about Nadeau?”

  “He’s in Murphy’s hip pocket. Build your case. You don’t want to lose them for lack of evidence.”

  *****

  Pete and Arnie came back at four o’clock without Cathy Wagner. Arnie was grouchy, complaining about traffic.

  “What happened?” Harvey demanded.

  “Her husband talked her out of it.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Harvey sat down and called her.

  “I’m not coming, so don’t waste your breath,” she said.

  “Mrs. Wagner, please. We know now who the boys involved in the burglary were. We know your ex-husband was one of them. You need to help us.”

  A man came on the line. “Look, leave her alone. She is not going to Maine. She is never going within a hundred miles of Tom Nadeau again. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Irate husbands could be very lucid. “Mr. Wagner, do you understand that your wife has information that could help us solve multiple murders? She’s no longer married to Thomas Nadeau. She can testify against him. If necessary, we can have the New Hampshire State Police pick her up for us. We need her testimony.”

  “I thought it was about the burglary thing when she was a kid. She told me about it. One old man died. It was thirty-five years ago, for crying out loud!”

  “There’s no statute of limitations on murder, sir. But it’s not just that. There have been three murders since then that we believe are related to this thing. Please. Let your wife come and give us her statement.”

  “Hold on.”

  He could hear them talking, but couldn’t make out the words. Wagner probably had his hand over the receiver.

  Finally she came back on.

  “You said before that Philip Whitney was murdered.”

  “I’m trying to prove that. Can you help me?”

  She hesitated. “He shot himself.”

  “Yes, we have the gun.”

  “It was a pistol.”

  “A revolver,” Harvey said. “The same one the boys stole from Richard Fairley’s house.”

  “I’ll come tomorrow morning.”

  He relaxed. “Come straight to the police station at Franklin and Middle. Exit 7 on 295.”

  “I’ll be there by ten o’clock.”

  “You won’t change your mind?”

  “No, I’ll be there.”

  Harvey hung up and breathed deeply.

  Pete and Arnie had been waiting.

  “She’s coming tomorrow, 10 a.m.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Arnie.

  “Still can’t get the Dixons,” Nate called from Mike’s old desk.

  “All right, let’s tie up loose ends and get the reports filed,” Harvey said. He latched on to Arnie for a few minutes before he left. “I’ll be looking for a new partner for you. Any suggestions?”

  Arnie shook his head. “Get someone you want to be here a long time. I’m out of here New Year’s Eve, so don’t think about me. I can put up with anyone for five months.”

  “It’s going to be strange to have Eddie my senior detective.”

  “Yeah,” Arnie said. “Maybe you’d better get somebody older in here, give this unit some stability.”

  “What do you think about the detectives downstairs?”

  “They’re all pretty good, or they wouldn’t be where they are. You worked with Wood and Parkhust. What about them?”

  Harvey frowned. “I alway
s wondered why Mike picked me over Clyde Wood. He had seniority over me, and he’s always been good in homicide.”

  “Mike wanted you, that’s why,” Arnie said. “You’re the computer ace. Besides, Wood’s a little ambitious. In a new unit, I don’t think Mike wanted any contenders for authority. But Wood’s over fifty. He might like spending his last few years before retirement up here, even if he had to answer to a whippersnapper like you. Parkhurst is good, too. Methodical.”

  “What about Joey Bolduc?”

  “He’s good. He’s cocky, though.”

  “Sort of like Eddie?”

  “Now, those two would make a pair. Don’t put them together as partners. If it were me, I’d go for somebody older. Just my opinion. Maybe Lemieux. He’s over forty, and he’s steady.”

  “Terry? He’s the patrol sergeant.”

  “So? That uniform isn’t glued to him.”

  *****

  Harvey was due to pick up Jennifer that evening, after his final fitting for the tuxedo, so they could pay a visit to their new house together.

  “It’s so exciting,” Jennifer told Beth as she helped Beth cut out the pieces of a dress she was making. “Mr. Bailey’s moved out. He says we can take possession anytime.”

  “I’m excited for you.” Beth pinned a pattern piece firmly to her soft challis material. “You’ll have so much fun decorating.”

  Jennifer gritted her teeth. “That will be a challenge. Maybe you and Ruthann can give me some pointers.”

  The doorbell rang, and she went to open the door. Harvey, standing on the steps and smiling.

  Beth took a straight pin out of her mouth. “How’s it going, Harvey?”

  “Good. We’re getting close to solving this thing.”

  “You got some new clues today?” Jennifer asked.

  “Yeah, we got some good stuff. You want to go with us tonight, Beth?”

  “Maybe next time,” Beth said.

  Harvey had already received the keys from Mr. Bailey. When he unlocked the breezeway door, they entered the house solemnly. Jennifer looked around the lower rooms in awe.

  The piano and the dining room furniture were gone. So were the living room set and the other pieces Mr. Bailey had mentioned. Most of the dishes and linens and all his clothing were gone. The bookshelves in the sun room were bare except for one row of books on the care and propagation of roses. A note was stuck under them. “For Mrs. Larson.”