Another Word for Murder
Page 16
Al waved to the police mechanic driving the tow truck, who then began backing the flatbed into the autobody shop. The beep-beep-beep of the truck’s reverse warning system droned in the background as Lever spoke. “Are you the one who repainted the Explorer?”
“No. No way, Lieutenant. It was like that when it came in here yesterday.”
“But you knew it had been repainted?”
“This is a quality shop. Any professional can tell you in a second if a car’s been retouched.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. My question is whether you knew the vehicle had been repainted when you took possession of it.”
Sonny’s gaze shifted from Al to Rosco while his shoulders twisted in an effort not to look in his mother’s direction. “Yeah …” he muttered.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
“What color was it originally?”
This time Sonny turned toward his mother; he looked as though he were hoping she could supply the answer. “White,” he finally admitted. His voice was hushed and hesitant.
“And you didn’t paint it red?”
“No. I told you that. I swear I didn’t paint it. I only got it yesterday; and it was red. Just like it is now.”
Opting not to blow Rosco’s cover, Al said, “But you weren’t going to tell Rick here, were you? That you knew it had been repainted?”
Sonny didn’t reply, but his head seemed to sink into his neck.
“Are you aware that lying about a vehicle’s paint job carries the same hefty fines as turning back an odometer? And that you could do some jail time if I pushed it?”
“No … No, I didn’t know that.”
Rosco thought, Neither did I, but it sure sounds good. He suspected that the statement might have lacked a certain amount of veracity.
Al continued to push Sonny. “I want to hear how the vehicle happened to end up in your shop.”
“Let’s go into the office, okay, Lieutenant?”
“No. I want to talk about this right here. I want to hear it from you, and only you.”
Sonny sighed and fidgeted with his belt buckle. He glanced at the ground and once more at his mother. Then he straightened his shoulders as if preparing for the worst. “Look, a guy brought the car in yesterday morning and said he wanted to get some nicks and dings buffed out of it so he could sell it. Basically, what he needed was a top-notch detailing. It was minor stuff, really…. ” Sonny swallowed hard and paused for the briefest moment. “So, I asked him how much he was looking to get for payment, and he said sixteen grand. I told him if he’d agree to fifteen, I’d take the Explorer off his hands. I knew I could get nineteen, maybe twenty easy. And that’s it. That’s all there is to know.”
“But the car was registered to a woman,” Rosco tossed in. “Karen something. You showed me the check. Now you’re saying a man brought it in?”
“Yeah. It was registered to a Karen Johnson, but this guy said that was his wife’s name.”
“So the man was Mr. Johnson?” Al asked as he noted the name on a piece of paper.
“No. He said it was registered in her maiden name. That’s why I wouldn’t give him the money up front; because he didn’t have the same last name. I mean, I didn’t know this guy from a hole in the wall. He could have stolen the vehicle for all I knew. He looked like a bum, like he’d just come off a week-long bender; he hadn’t shaved for a while and his clothes were a total mess. I told him I wouldn’t pay the fifteen grand to nobody but the person whose name was on the registration. He said he’d come back later with his wife, but if I had a chance to sell it first to go ahead with the deal, to hold the cash for him and his wife. Then he left the Explorer and walked out on foot. Said he was going to catch a cab on the corner. When he didn’t show, I decided to mail a check to this Karen babe at the address on the registration. I was being real straight up about all this, Lieutenant.”
Al only stared at Sonny, who, in turn, tried but failed to gaze calmly back. Rosco noted that the man’s right eyelid was now twitching and that sweat was beginning to streak his perfect green polo shirt.
“What?” Sonny demanded with what was clearly intended to be a nonchalant shrug. He nodded toward Rosco, but the gesture was jerky and anxious. “Just ask Rick there. He saw the envelope. He saw the check. I was playing this completely aboveboard.”
“Not if you were knowingly accepting a stolen vehicle, you weren’t.”
“Look, I told you I was gonna pay the babe. It’s a fair price—”
“And ‘aboveboard’ doesn’t really apply to the twelve hundred you were going to withhold from the state of Massachusetts, either.” No response came from Sonny, so Al added a facetious “You wouldn’t happen to have the name of Ms. Johnson’s husband, would you?”
“Yeah … yeah, I do.” Sonny suddenly appeared as eager to please as a kid in a toy store.
“Feel like sharing it with us?”
“Frank. His name was Frank. Frank O’Connell.”
Rosco and Al exchanged a private look as the flatbed truck emerged from the garage. The Explorer was secured onto the load area by a series of chains.
“Fat? Skinny? Twenty? Sixty? How would you describe this Frank O’Connell, other than a guy who’d been on a week-long bender?”
“He was thinnish, as tall as me. I don’t know about age. Late twenties or thirties, maybe. Red ponytail; Sox cap. He looked older, though … beat up, like I said. One of those guys you guess is middle-aged till they open their mouths.”
“And you never asked yourself how this ‘bum’ might have had a ‘wife’ with such a swanky address and pricey car?”
Again, Sonny didn’t respond. Al glowered at him, then exhaled an angry breath. “We’ll be lifting fingerprints from the vehicle,” he continued as the tow truck exited the lot. “I want a list of all employees who handled it. They may be asked to come to the station later to submit their prints for comparison.”
Sonny shook his head. “Nobody’s touched it, Lieutenant; or at least nobody left fingerprints on it. Everyone in this shop wears latex gloves and custom-fitted work gloves over them. That’s our policy.”
“Why is that?” Rosco asked.
“Ninety percent of the cars we get have leather interiors. My mom insists on cleanliness. She goes through the roof if one of our guys leaves a grease smudge on someone’s Beamer—inside or out.”
Al handed Sonny one of his card. “If you think of anything else you’d like to share with me about that Explorer, give me a call.”
“So … so, it was a hot car, huh?”
“In more ways than you know.”
“Well, as long as I didn’t lose my fifteen grand, I’m a happy camper.” Sonny made an effort at a collegial smile, but the attempt failed.
“Right. But better not try any camping soon. In fact, don’t leave town without notifying my office. You’ve just made yourself a material witness.”
Al and Rosco returned to the NPD sedan and pulled out behind the tow truck. The police cruiser followed them.
“I’m gathering that Frank O’Connell is Bonnie’s brother,” Rosco said after they’d made a left off of Clawson Street.
“Brother, uncle, cousin; gotta be one of them.”
“And Karen Johnson is Karen Tacete’s maiden name?”
“I’d put money on that.” Lever lit a cigarette using the dashboard lighter and glanced sideways at Rosco. “Sorry, Poly—crates; my car, my rules.”
Rosco ignored the smoke. “So the receptionist’s brother kidnaps the good doctor…. Is the receptionist in on it?”
“More importantly, is the wife in on it?”
CHAPTER 26
“Okay, Karen,” Rosco said, “let me get this straight. You were aware that Dan’s receptionist had a brother named Frank … but you never actually met him?”
Her eyes raw and puffy from weeping, her blonde hair disheveled, her pale complexion drained of all color, Karen simply nodded her assent.
“Althou
gh you’d heard rumors that he had ‘problems’?” Belle prompted.
Again, Karen nodded. She bowed her head in a gesture that was a study in defeat. “I’m having a really hard time talking about all of this,” she finally murmured in a tone that was nearly inaudible. “It was only yesterday that they found Dan …” The words trailed off, unfinished.
“I know this is difficult, Karen,” Rosco replied, “But time is of the essence.”
Belle, who was seated beside Karen on the living room couch—a leather affair that was obviously new and expensive—resisted the temptation to put her arms around the distraught woman. For one thing, Karen’s huddled form seemed to have withdrawn into itself. The other deterrent was Belle’s growing confusion. With each question, Karen Tacete seemed more unknowable; it was almost, Belle thought, as if she were deliberately keeping secrets from the very people who were trying to help her.
“Dan likes to keep his work separate from his family life,” Karen now stated in a subdued monotone. “Liked, I mean. He liked to separate work from family.” Her head sank lower; her shoulders slumped.
“But you met Bonnie?”
“Of course. At the office.”
“And how did she strike you?” Belle asked.
“Strike me?” Karen finally looked up, her face a blank.
“Did she seem like an honest person when you first saw her?” Rosco tossed in.
“I guess…. Dan didn’t hire her. Jack did. Before Dan became a partner of Smile! She’s cheerful. And young. That’s all I know about her.”
“And that she’s got a brother named Frank who may or may not have difficulties with the law,” Rosco continued.
Karen shrugged. “I don’t know…. I suspected that it might have been a drug problem … but I’m not sure.”
“Do you have any idea how Frank O’Connell could have come into possession of your Explorer, Karen?” Rosco asked after another quiet moment.
“Dan was driving it when he … when he … No, I don’t know.”
“That’s my point; Dan disappears in the Explorer, then Franks tries to sell it…. Did Dan ever help Frank out in any way?” was Rosco’s next question. “Money-wise? I know he liked to aid folks who were down and out.”
“He could have, I guess.”
“But he didn’t tell you, specifically?”
“I was just his wife. He didn’t tell me everything he did, no.”
Ensconced in the butter-soft and pillowy leather, Belle felt her spine straighten in protest. It took a degree of self-control not to immediately challenge Karen’s remark about being “just” a wife. “But you and Dan must have had a wonderful and loving relationship … with Lily at the center of your life,” Belle said instead, but Karen greeted this statement with another uncomprehending stare.
“So, all the cars are in your name?” Rosco asked after an additional and uncomfortable silence.
“My maiden name, yes…. Well, not the Corvette, but Dan said that registering them to me was like insurance, in case anything ever happened to—” Karen’s mouth shut tight, curtailing the remainder of her speech. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” she added suddenly. “There’s nothing else I can tell you. I never met this Frank O’Connell. I couldn’t even tell you what he looks like—unless he resembles his sister. And I don’t have a clue as to why he had our Explorer … or why it was red … or anything…. But it seems pretty dumb to try to sell a car that was being driven by a man whose wife reported him missing—and who then wound up being kidnapped and murdered.”
Belle’s ears pricked up at the word “murdered,” but she decided to say nothing. Al had classified Dan Tacete’s death as a homicide, but only because of the circumstances surrounding the kidnapping. She looked at Rosco, who had obviously heard and concluded the same thing.
“It seems more than dumb, Karen,” he now stated. “It’s criminal.”
“Well, I guess you better find this Frank O’Connell.”
“You’re right, there,” Rosco agreed with a certain amount of resignation in his voice.
Karen sat a little taller and pushed the tousled hair from her eyes. She appeared visibly relieved that the interview was drawing to a close. Then all at once, Lily thundered in; on her heels was Bear, who leapt, with his diminutive compatriot, onto the leather couch. “Hi Rock! Hi Cookie!” Lily all but shouted in her enthusiasm. Her energy and joy were so infectious Belle couldn’t help but smile; but Karen’s response was exactly the opposite.
She began to sob, hugging Lily close while between her tears she gasped out a spasmodic “My baby … I don’t want to lose you…. Mommy doesn’t ever want to lose you…. ”
Her mother’s anguish produced the same reaction in the little girl, who also began to wail out her own fear and sorrow while Bear slunk away, leaving Belle and Rosco uncomfortable witnesses to this intense family drama.
“Karen?” Belle asked after several minutes had elapsed. “Is there anyone we can call … perhaps, a relative you’d like to have visit for a while—?”
“No!” Karen burst out. “I don’t want anyone here! I don’t need anyone.” She hugged Lily tighter. “Do we, Lily-bet?”
“But it might help to have family here.” Even as she formed the words, Belle realized she didn’t know if Karen had relatives she communicated with or not.
“I’m fine on my own. I don’t need any of them. I never have, and I never will again.” The tone was shrill.
“But maybe … just to help get you through this rough patch …?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Belle! And you sure as hell don’t know the first thing about what it’s like to live through rough patches.”
Belle stiffened at the attack, then reminded herself that Karen was dealing with terrible emotional strain. “I know that you’re unhappy and that you have every reason to feel that way … but I’m thinking about what might help Lily to best cope with all of this. For instance, if you had a sister, or even a professional—”
“No one’s going to take my baby away from me!”
“I’m not suggesting that anyone would, Karen—”
“Just leave me alone! Both of you! You leave Lily and me alone! Now! I can handle all of this in my own way.”
Then Lily took up the angry chant, leaving Belle and Rosco with no alternative other than to walk out of the house and climb slowly into Rosco’s car.
“Whew,” Belle said as Rosco exited the driveway and entered the cul-de-sac.
“Karen’s not in good shape,” he agreed.
“Which doesn’t make the world a healthy place for her daughter. I think she should be seeing a professional; someone who can help her get through all of this.”
They drove on in silence, although both husband and wife were pondering the same issues.
“Do you think she’s telling the truth?” Belle asked after they’d traveled several blocks.
“About what? Frank O’Connell?”
“Frank … and everything else.”
“I don’t know,” Rosco admitted after another pause. “Something doesn’t feel right…. Clearly, Frank O’Connell has a lot of questions to answer. But it all seems so incestuous…. Bonnie and Jack … Rob Rossi being Dan’s patient…. It makes me wonder if murder wasn’t the original objective all along, and the kidnapping was simply for show. Which would mean that we’re being led into the investigation from the wrong perspective … maybe even a perspective that’s totally opposite—”
“I’m getting the same weird vibes…. Considering everything that Karen’s been bombarded with, well, her reactions seem odd to me. For instance, no one has remotely suggested taking Lily away from her …”
“That bothered me, too.”
“Because she was almost bordering on hysteria when it came to that topic, Rosco.”
“I know.”
“And her use of the word ‘murder.’”
“Al did classify the death as a homicide, Belle…. ”
“But
there was something in the way Karen pounced on the term…. ”
Rosco again nodded in agreement.
Belle thought for a long moment. “I hate to say this, but I’m beginning to wonder just how happy her marriage was.”
Rosco didn’t immediately reply, although he took his eyes off the road for a split second to look at his wife. Her face was tense with worry, an expression of both empathy and concern muddying her gray eyes. “What makes you suspect that?”
“Karen said she was ‘just’ a wife…. What does that mean? That Dan didn’t value her as a life partner? Do you think of me as ‘just’ a wife? I hope not…. It’s not how I view myself, obviously. And by Karen’s own admission, he kept his business dealings from her—”
“I’m not sure how thrilled I’d be to hear nightly accounts of inlays and gum disease if you were a dentist.” Rosco tried to jest, but Belle was in no mood for banter.
“And the word ‘strike’ had real resonance with her, too. I didn’t like that. I think she completely misinterpreted what I was asking at first.”
“You may be reading too much into that reaction, Belle. Karen’s really shaken.”
“Perhaps … but I definitely got the impression that somewhere someone had hit her. Call it intuition, but I believe she has bad associations with that word.”
Rosco nodded. “Okay … so maybe her marriage wasn’t peachy, and maybe her history with her family—whoever they are—is also problematic—”
“Or abusive,” Belle interjected.
“Intuition again?” Rosco asked; his tone was pensive.
“I don’t know what it is,” was Belle’s quiet reply. “But I can tell you that I’m certain that Karen is hiding something.”
“You’re not going so far as to suggest that she may have plotted to kill her husband, are you?” This time Rosco’s voice had a quizzical rather than serious edge.
Belle considered the question, and as she did, she hunched her shoulders in concentration and scrunched down further in the seat. “What do you think, Rosco?”
“I’d say that was a pretty big leap, Belle, and that we don’t have any means of connecting the dots…. Karen would have to have arranged Dan’s kidnapping—”