“So why was everyone here?” Brian asked.
“I’m getting to that. Right after I sent Walt the text message, Heather called me. Earlier, she had been looking for Bella—her cat—when she heard a car backfire. She looked down the street and noticed the car had stopped in front of my house. She didn’t really think much about it at the time, but later, when she went back out to look for something she had dropped, she saw the car again. And once again, it was parked in front of my house. She called me a few minutes later to make sure everything was all right.”
When Brian spoke to Heather, she corroborated Danielle’s story, explaining how she had called Chris to meet her there when Danielle failed to call her back. Had it been anyone else, Brian might have wondered why a car stopping in the middle of the street—even twice—would merit such notice, yet knowing Heather, he didn’t doubt her story.
“What kind of vehicle was it?” Brian asked her. The two sat alone in the parlor at Marlow House.
“A car.”
Brian gritted his teeth. He knew Heather wasn’t intentionally being obtuse. “Do you know if it was a Ford or Chevy? A specific model?”
Heather shrugged. “I’m not really into cars. I just know it was a jalopy. Kind of a mess.”
“What color was it?”
“Kind of hard to tell. It was dark out. Maybe black—or dark green.” Heather shrugged again. “Could have been dark gray or maybe navy blue?”
“But you know it was kind of a mess?”
“Well, yeah. It was backfiring.”
Brian resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “Was it like a station wagon, or sports car, maybe an SUV?”
“No. It was just a regular car, like the kind my mother used to drive.”
Brian perked up. “So what kind of car did your mother drive?”
Heather frowned at Brian. “I told you, I don’t know cars. I couldn’t tell you if Mom drove a Chevy or Ford. But it would have been an American car. Mom was big on that. Are Chevys and Fords American cars?”
Again Brian gritted his teeth and forced a smile. “The car last night—not your mother’s car—do you remember if it had four doors or two doors?”
Heather scrunched up her face while considering the question. Finally, she blurted, “It was a two-door! And it had a trunk, not a hatchback.” Heather grinned, proud of herself for remembering that much.
As he brought each witness in, they all painted the same picture: a suspicious vehicle stopping twice in front of Marlow House, hearing a car backfiring. The only inconsistency came when Brian asked why Lily was looking through the house with Chris and not Ian.
“So after you came over to check on Danielle, you decided to look through all the rooms before going home?” Brian asked Lily.
Lily nodded. “Yes. I had seen someone running out from the bushes and getting in the car. And Walt told us that when the gunshot woke him up, he heard someone running down the hallway and out the front door. Of course, we wanted to go through the house, make sure nothing had been disturbed and the windows were all locked.”
“Why did you go through the house with Chris and not Ian?”
Lily frowned at Brian. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”
“Danielle mentioned you all decided it would be faster to pair up and each check out specific rooms in the house. Why didn’t you search the house with Ian?”
Lily stared at Brian. She finally shrugged and said, “Because Chris had a gun?” No one else had provided that answer when asked. In fact, they all gave different ones. What Brian didn’t know, before calling the police, they had agreed it would be best to stick to the truth. They would tell the police exactly what had happened—minus the part where Walt saw Macbeth’s ghost. But they hadn’t anticipated the question on how they’d decided to pair up.
Brian waited to interview Walt last. Instead of making him hobble to the parlor, the five friends retreated to the living room.
“Did you know Jim Hill’s real name was Macbeth Bandoni?” Brian asked Walt.
“Danielle told me,” Walt answered.
“So you never knew before that?”
Walt smiled at Brian, who remained standing, notebook and pen in hands.
Walt shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t remember anything prior to my accident. Sorry. If I ever knew, I don’t remember.”
“Have you seen or heard from Macbeth since the accident?”
Walt stared at Brian a moment before answering. He and Danielle knew he would be asked this question. Finally, Walt said, “He called me and asked how I was doing. I didn’t remember who he was, but Danielle had told me everything she knew about him.”
“So he just asked how you were and said goodbye?”
“Not exactly.” Walt shifted in his chair, trying to better position his cast.
“Then what?”
“I told him he could have the portraits he painted if he wanted them.”
“Why would you give him the portraits?” Brian asked.
Walt shrugged. “They really are nothing to me—it’s not like I even remember the paintings. Danielle showed me pictures she had taken of them. They are huge. I certainly don’t have a place to display something like that. And I figured, since he painted them, maybe he’d want them.”
“But they are part of your family history. The man you are named after. I’m surprised you would be so willing to give them away.”
Walt smiled again at Brian. “I did ask Danielle first if she wanted the portraits. I knew she’d sold hers. She told me she didn’t feel comfortable having something that valuable in her house. She has been so kind, helping me deal with everything, I thought she might like my portraits to replace the ones she sold.”
“And she didn’t want them?”
Walt shook his head. “No. She said once they took the portraits out of the library, she realized how much room they had taken up. I don’t blame her. It’s not like Walt Marlow and his wife are anything to her.”
Twenty-Five
Danielle wasn’t surprised when Brian and Joe gathered fingerprints before leaving Marlow House. The crime lab needed to exclude their prints from any unidentified fingerprints found at the scene—or perhaps try matching one of their fingerprints to those found on one of the two guns.
Two handguns had been found in Marlow House that night—one in the bathroom and the second was found under the body of Macbeth, still clutched in his gloved hand. Danielle and her friends hadn’t seen Macbeth’s gun when they had initially found the body, because they were careful not to disturb the evidence.
Not everyone had their fingerprints taken, such as Danielle. Hers were already on file with the local police department. But when Brian finished up the fingerprinting, the body was removed, and the scene processed, she expected the police to leave and she and her friends could turn in for the night.
“I need Mr. Marlow to go down to the station with us for more questioning,” Brian announced as he closed his notepad and slipped it back into his pocket.
“Why?” Danielle asked. “You already questioned him.”
“Mr. Marlow had a prior relationship with our victim, and we have some more questions. I believe it will be best if we wrapped this up down at the station,” Brian told her.
“But he doesn’t even remember anything,” Lily blurted.
Brian looked at her yet did not respond.
“Can’t we just come down in the morning after we all get a good night’s sleep?” Danielle asked.
“I’m afraid not.” Brian’s tone reminded Danielle of his attitude when investigating her for Cheryl’s murder. It made her uncomfortable.
“It’s okay, Danielle.” Walt spoke up. “It would probably be better if we get this out of the way now.”
Danielle stood up. “Fine. Let me go change my clothes.”
“There’s no reason for you to go with us,” Joe told Danielle. “We’ll take him with us, and I’ll bring him back after we’re finished.”
&
nbsp; “No.” Danielle shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“We’ll take him,” Brian told her. “If you want to drive down to the station and wait for him, that’s your prerogative.” He then looked at Walt and asked, “Mr. Marlow, would you like to change your clothes before we go?”
Walt glanced down at his nightclothes. “I suppose that would be a good idea.”
Brian walked Walt into the interrogation room and showed him to the table. He then glanced at his watch and said, “I’ll be right back. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Yes. I’ll probably need some caffeine to keep my eyes open. Thank you.”
“Do you want anything in it?”
“Black is fine,” Walt told him.
Instead of going directly to the break room to pour two cups of coffee, Brian slipped into the office next to the interrogation room. There he found Joe standing alone in the dimly lit room, looking through the two-way mirror at Walt Marlow.
“I’m glad you took my advice and insisted on bringing him down here without Danielle,” Joe said when he walked into the room.
“I intended to do that anyway,” Brian said as he stepped up to the glass window and stood next to Joe while they observed Walt.
Joe glanced briefly at Brian. “Really?”
Brian shrugged. “Just a gut feeling I had. Something didn’t quite feel right back there.”
“Certainly, you don’t think any of them—aside from Marlow—had anything to do with the murder?” Joe asked.
Brian turned to Joe and was about to answer his question when a voice said, “What are you doing here?” It was Walt Marlow’s voice coming through the speakers in the interrogation room. Both Brian and Joe turned back quickly to the window and watched as Walt directed his conversation to a chair sitting on the other side of the table.
“So she sent you to check on me?” Walt asked his imaginary friend. He then laughed.
“Insanity defense?” Joe suggested.
“That would be my guess. Does this mean we’ll find his fingerprints on the murder weapon?” Brian asked.
“You didn’t happen to see Macbeth, did you?” Walt asked aloud. “We looked for him, but we couldn’t find him anywhere.”
“What is he talking about?” Joe frowned.
“It would help if one of us could find him. Convince Macbeth to tell us who killed him,” Walt said.
“I have to say, he is a good actor. He’s got me believing he’s a nutcase.” Brian snorted.
“Why?” Walt asked. “He said he was going to kill me. He tried shooting me—twice. But imaginary guns don’t work very well.”
“He’s doing this for our benefit,” Joe snarled. “He wants us to think he’s a whack job.”
“Walt, stop talking to Eva! Don’t say another word!” Marie shouted seconds after she appeared in the interrogation room. Walt sat at the table with Eva. The two looked at Marie, startled at her outburst.
“Goodness, Marie, what is your problem?” Eva asked.
Marie pointed to the mirror. “That! It’s a two-way mirror. They’re probably in there right now watching and listening to you!”
“Don’t be silly, Marie,” Eva said as she waved her hand, sending a flurry of glitter over the table. “They can’t see or hear me.”
“No, but they can certainly hear and see Walt, and about now are probably deciding if he is just a little crazy and likes talking to himself—or maybe dangerous and needs a straightjacket.”
Walt looked from Marie to the mirror on the far wall.
Marie looked back at Walt. “Certainly Danielle has told you about the two-way mirror they have in here?” She had, but he had forgotten about it—until now.
The three sat in silence for a few minutes when Marie finally said, “This is silly. I said Walt needs to stop talking, I didn’t mean Eva and I should remain quiet.”
“If I had known they were spying on this room, I certainly wouldn’t have engaged Walt in conversation,” Eva muttered.
Marie turned her attention to Walt. “I’m sure Eva already told you we heard a rumor about new paranormal activity on your street, so we wanted to see if everything was okay at Marlow House. Eva arrived before I did, and Danielle asked her to check on you. But as soon as Eva left, Danielle realized she had not warned Eva about this room—and she was afraid if they brought you in here, you might not remember what she had told you about the mirror, which would mean when Eva showed up, you’d probably talk to her. Which you did.”
Walt grimaced.
A few minutes later Brian Henderson entered the room carrying two cups of coffee, and a notepad tucked under one arm. He walked over to the table and set one cup in front of Walt and another in front of Eva.
“I don’t think that coffee is for me,” Eva grumbled as she quickly moved from the seat. The next moment, Brian sat down in the chair she had been using.
“Are you ready to answer a few more questions?” Brian asked.
“Yes.” Walt took a sip of the coffee.
Brian picked up his notepad and looked at it a moment. He then looked up at Walt and asked, “What did you mean when you said, ‘So she sent you to check on me’?”
Walt stared blankly at Brian.
Brian pointed to the mirror and started to say, “You see, that—”
“Is a two-way mirror,” Walt finished for him.
“You knew?” Brian asked.
“I wasn’t certain,” Walt lied. “Suspected someone was watching me.”
“Why were you talking to yourself in here if you knew we might be watching?” Brian asked.
Walt shrugged. “It’s late. I’m tired. Probably a little sleep deprived.”
“Do you always talk to yourself when you’re tired and sleep deprived?”
“Only when I’ve been unnecessarily dragged down to the police station in the middle of the night, and I think the ones responsible might be in the next room watching.”
Marie gasped. “I’m not sure that’s the best approach to take with Brian.”
“Hush, Marie,” Eva said with a chuckle. “Let Walt be. Everyone thought Clint was a jerk, and better for Walt to be perceived as the jerk they already believe him to be than someone who’s slipped off his rocker.”
“So you don’t think we should have asked you to come down here?”
“I just don’t know what it is you needed to ask me that you couldn’t have asked at Marlow House.”
“You are the only one who had a relationship with Macbeth Bandoni.”
“I also don’t remember anything about that time in my life,” Walt told him.
Brian glanced down at his notes then looked back up at Walt. “When you were talking to yourself in here—apparently to amuse yourself at our expense—you said—I’m afraid I didn’t get it down exactly—something like, he said he wanted to kill me—he tried shooting me, but imaginary guns don’t work. Or something to that effect. Why did you say that? It’s an odd thing to say, especially considering what happened tonight.”
“Those aren’t my words,” Walt said.
Eva cringed. “You did say something like that.”
“Not exactly. But close enough,” Brian said.
“Maybe if you played the tape for me, it would jog my memory,” Walt suggested.
Brian frowned. “Tape? What tape?”
“I assumed you were recording me when I was in here alone.”
Brian stared at Walt a moment. Finally, he shook his head. “No, we hadn’t started recording yet.”
Walt smiled at Brian and shrugged. “Then I’m sorry, I don’t think I can answer your question. I believe you misheard what I said.”
“I didn’t mishear anything,” Brian grumbled when he walked into Joe’s office thirty minutes later.
“I guess he’s not planning to use that little show as an insanity defense,” Joe said as he set the pen he had been holding on his desktop. He leaned back in the office chair and watched as Brian took a seat across
from him.
“He was just messing with us. I was hoping there was some way to connect Marlow to that gun found in the bathroom,” Brian grumbled. Before he had released Walt, Joe had popped in the interrogation room for a few moments and had slipped Brian a note, telling him they had nothing to hold Walt on.
“Most of the prints were wiped off the gun,” Joe explained.
“I wouldn’t expect him to ditch the gun where it could be found without wiping it off. I was just hoping he missed something.”
“We did find some partial prints. They’re running them now, but they said they definitely weren’t Marlow’s,” Joe told him. “But there is something odd about his fingerprints.”
“Odd how?” Brian asked.
“I went ahead and ran his prints through the system.”
“You wanted to see if he had something out there?” Brian snickered. “You still have a thing for Boatman, don’t you?”
“Oh, shut up. I’m with Kelly now. This has nothing to do with Danielle.”
“Yeah, right,” Brian mumbled under his breath.
“Don’t you want to know what I found?” Joe asked.
“He’s a wanted criminal?” Brian suggested.
“There was nothing—absolutely nothing.”
Brian shrugged. “So? Just means he has a clean record, wasn’t in the military, never worked for the government…”
“The guy was a real estate agent. To get a license you have to be fingerprinted.”
“Are you sure it’s in the database you used?”
“Clint Marlow’s fingerprints were there. He was fingerprinted when he got his California real estate license.”
Brian frowned. “I don’t understand what you’re saying?”
“When I ran Marlow’s fingerprints, nothing came up. I thought that was strange. So I searched by name and found his fingerprints. Only thing, they don’t match the fingerprints of the man you just interviewed.”
The Ghost of Second Chances Page 16
