Bark M for Murder
Page 24
“I read about that London Cabbie Company somewhere,” she replied. “I thought it would be slick to be driven around in one of those foreign-looking taxis.”
“And you hired him for the whole day?”
“That’s right. I was collecting materials from my son’s various construction projects so I could make a collage for his birthday next week.”
“Your son lives here in town?”
“That’s correct.”
“But you’re not staying with him while you’re here? You’re staying at a hotel?” Caudill asked.
Maddy nodded. “At the Fairmont. It used to be the Four Seasons Olympic.”
“Expensive.”
“Yes.”
“So you do have money?”
“Some,” Maddy acknowledged. “I’m comfortable.”
“You said that comments Mr. Mahmoud made at lunch made you uncomfortable, comments that made you think he was after your money—or rather, your husband’s money. You’re in the habit of taking cab drivers to lunch?”
“Not really,” Maddy said, rattled. “It’s just that we had been busy all morning. I knew I was hungry, and I thought he must be as well.”
“Who paid?”
“I did,” Maddy admitted. “But there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No,” Detective Caudill agreed, “but it might make some people think that you were after him rather than the other way around.”
“That’s outrageous!” Maddy exclaimed. “The man’s not even thirty.”
“Loneliness does strange things to some people,” Detective Caudill observed. “It puts some people right over the edge. Jealousy does the same thing.”
Maddy straightened in her chair. “Jealousy?” she demanded. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying? Are you under the impression that I followed Mr. Mahmoud because I have some kind of romantic interest in him?”
“Did you?” Detective Caudill asked.
“Certainly not!” Maddy turned to Ralph Ames. “Do I have to sit here and let him insult me like this? I’m tired and ready to go back to the hotel.”
“Are you planning on holding her?” Ames asked the detective.
“No,” Caudill replied. “Not at this time, but if she plans on leaving the jurisdiction, I’ll need to know about it.”
“If I go anywhere, it’ll be back to my home on Whidbey Island,” she said. “Is that considered inside your jurisdiction or do I have to stay here in Seattle?”
“It means don’t leave Washington State,” Caudill warned. “It would be very bad if we had to come after you or institute extradition proceedings.”
the detective’s comment made it pretty clear that he still regarded her as the wrong-doer.
“What about my Glock?” Maddy asked. “When do I get that back?”
She could tell by looking at Caudill that he wanted to say, “Never.” What he replied instead was, “When we’ve completed the criminal investigation—and not before. And, if I were you, I wouldn’t go out looking for a replacement in the meantime.”
“What about the rest of my personal effects?”
Caudill reached down next to his chair and picked up a paper bag. Removing Maddy’s handkerchief and cell phone, he slid them across the table to her. “Here they are,” he said.
As Maddy gathered her possessions, Ralph Ames rose and reached to help with her chair. “We’ll be going then, Mort. Keep in touch.”
Maddy waited until they were in the elevator before she cut loose. “What a perfectly dreadful young man,” she said. “And the way he treated me like a common criminal. Such arrogance!”
“You’re the one who pulled the trigger,” Ralph pointed out mildly. “Under most circumstances, the person with the finger on the trigger is the one who’s at fault. You can hardly blame Detective Caudill for making that assumption.”
“In other words, you’re making the same assumption yourself,” Maddy said sharply. “I thought you were supposed to be my attorney.”
“I am your attorney,” Ames replied. “My job is to provide the best possible defense regardless of whether or not you’re guilty.”
Maddy was steaming as he helped her into his car, one of those new CLS-500 Mercedes, of course. What else could you expect?
“I’m sure this has all been a very disturbing evening for you,” Ames said soothingly as he slipped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. “The best thing to do now is to get some food into you and have a real discussion about everything that went on. I’d like to take some detailed notes before things go much further. Is your hotel all right?”
Maddy nodded. “Do you think it’s likely that they’ll be charging me?” she asked.
“Not likely,” Ames said. “But it’s certainly a possibility.”
Maddy’s phone rang just then. When she went to answer it, she could see it was Gennie calling. She was tempted not to answer, but finally she did anyway.
“Where are you?” Gennie asked.
“Out,” Maddy answered.
“Well,” Gennie said, sounding wounded. “I tried your home number, but all I got was the machine. Something terrible has happened.”
There had been all together too much going on in Maddy’s life that evening. The idea of some other disaster occurring at the same time was more than she could bear. “Now what?” she asked.
“It’s Jamil,” Gennie wailed. “One of his friends just called me. He’s been injured, not seriously—in a car accident of some kind. He’s at the emergency room right now. He’ll probably be released in the next few hours, but that’s not the worst of it, though. It’s his mother-in-law. She’s desperately ill back home in Saudi. He and his wife are going to need to fly back home as soon as they can book a flight.”
Maddy bit her lip to keep from blurting out “Jamil bin Mahmoud told me that his wife was dead.” Instead, she held her tongue and kept on listening.
“They’re hoping to leave tomorrow evening,” Gennie continued. “Naturally, flying at the last minute like this is dreadfully expensive. Jamil asked me if he could borrow money for the tickets from me, just until he gets back home and can send me a check. The problem is, he needs it in cash. I can go to the bank tomorrow morning and get it, but I’m just not comfortable riding around Seattle in a cab with that amount of money in my possession. I know it’s a terrible imposition, Maddy, but do you suppose you could come to town, take me to the bank, and then give me a ride over to his place so I can drop off the money? I’d ask Shannon, but…” Gennie paused. “Well, you know how she is.”
Maddy glanced in Ralph Ames’s direction. He seemed intent on his driving. “Of course,” she said. “What time would you like me to be at your place?”
“Would nine be too early?” Gennie asked. “I know it’s a long way, but…”
“No,” Maddy said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there right at nine. See you then.”
“My sister, Genevieve,” Maddy explained to Ralph once she was off the phone.
Maddy sat in silence for a while after that, wondering. This was the time she should probably spill the beans to Mr. Ames. After all, he was her attorney, wasn’t he? If he wouldn’t help her in a situation like this, who would? But then again, Ames seemed to be on the same page as Detective Caudill in thinking Maddy was the bad guy here. But what could she do to help Gennie, especially if both the cops and her attorney weren’t on her side, especially considering they had already confiscated her trusty Glock? Surely she and Gennie merited some kind of protection.
Maddy made her decision. “Gennie has a doctor’s appointment in the morning,” she explained. “She’s worried about what the results may be, and she wants to have someone there with her. I told her I’d pick her up at nine.”
“But you don’t have a vehicle,” Ralph objected. “It’s impounded, remember? I can probably get it out for you later in the day tomorrow, but it’s going to be difficult to make that happen in time for you to keep a nine a.m. appoin
tment.”
Maddy blushed. She was so used to having her own wheels that she had completely forgotten that her CRV was out of reach at the moment. “I’ll manage,” she said. “Speaking of that. What about my dogs? They’re at Rex and Gina’s, but they live in First Hill Plaza. I’m not sure that building even allows dogs. I wouldn’t want to cause trouble for them with their homeowner’s association.”
Ralph was about to turn into the Fairmont’s driveway entrance, but he paused at the entrance and switched off his turn signal. “Would you like to go get them right now?” he asked. “I’d be more than happy to take you there.”
“I’d appreciate that so much,” Maddy said. “And I’m sure the dogs will, too.”
“We’ll go straight there, then,” Ralph said. “Dogs first; dinner later.”
He was so obliging that Maddy spent the whole trip up First Hill feeling guilty about lying to him. In fact, she was so concerned about that, that she barely had time to worry about what Rex was going to think. Or say.
When they reached the building, Maddy chickened out. Rather than going up to face Gina, she used the security phone and asked Rex if he would be so kind as to bring the dogs and their equipment downstairs. “I have someone waiting for me,” she said. “I really shouldn’t come up.”
Several minutes later, the elevator door opened. Aggie, minus her leash, pranced through the door as happily and as unconcerned as if she’d been riding elevators all her life. Daph, ever Second Dog, followed more sedately. Rex brought up the rear, pushing a grocery cart loaded with the dogs’ equipment.
The puppies were ecstatic to see Maddy. Rex, on the other hand, looked mad enough to spit. “What in the world is going on with you, Mother?” he demanded. “Have you gone completely round the bend? And why the hell are you staying at the Fairmont, for Christ’s sake? Do you have any idea how much that place costs?”
Just then Rex caught sight of Ralph Ames lingering in the background. He immediately backed off. “Hi there, Ralph,” he said more agreeably. “So you were able to keep them from throwing her in the slammer. I really appreciate it. What in the world has she been up to?”
Maddy wasn’t about to stand there and be talked about rather than to. Before Ralph could reply, she did. “I found myself being targeted by what I suspect is a smooth-talking fortune hunter,” she told him. “All I was doing was protecting myself.”
“Did you ever think of calling the police?” Rex asked. “After all, that’s one of the services our taxes support. What happened?”
“He came after me with a tire iron,” she answered. “So I shot him.”
Rex was dumbfounded. “You what?”
“I shot him with my Glock.”
“You have a Glock? Since when? I don’t believe this.”
“I used to have a Glock,” Maddy said ruefully. “I got it for protection after that crazy man burned down my house. And don’t look at me that way, Rex. The gun is legal. I have a license for it and everything. But the cops took it away tonight— pending the criminal investigation.”
Rex shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “This is beyond belief! I don’t know what to say.”
Just then Ralph Ames stepped into the breach. “Don’t say anything for the moment,” he advised. “I think the situation sounds worse than it is. Just let me handle it. That’s what you’re paying me for. I’ll take your mother and her dogs back to her hotel. Then the two of us will sit down and go over the whole thing.”
For once in his life, Rex was speechless. “All right,” he said finally. “Thanks, Ralph. Do whatever you need to do, and send me the bill.”
“I’ll pay my own way, thank you,” Maddy said. “I’m not a charity case you know.”
Rex sent her a dark look. “No,” he said. “But you could be.”
Maddy stood on her tiptoes and gave him a glancing kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking after Aggie and Daph,” she said. “And thank you for calling Mr. Ames. He’s been a big help.”
Rex sighed. “Good night, Mother,” he said. “Now I’d better go upstairs and tell Gina about what’s been going on before she sees it on the eleven o’clock news.”
On the way back down the hill, Maddy considered her next move. Mr. Ames had been so nice to her—going to pick up the dogs, and all—that she really didn’t want to tell him any more lies, but she also didn’t want him to know what was really going on until after her meeting with Gennie the next morning. Besides, as he had so kindly pointed out, she needed time to make alternate transportation arrangements.
And so, feeling like a complete hypocrite, when they arrived at the hotel’s driveway entrance, Maddy Watkins played her most unbeatable card— the one labeled age and infirmity.
“Mr. Ames,” she said, doing her best to sound weary beyond words. “I know we need to talk, but I’m just totally bushed right now. I don’t think I could hold my head up during dinner much less hold up my end of the conversation. What I really need is to take myself to bed. Could we have this meeting tomorrow? Not before my meeting with Gennie, certainly. That would be much too early, but maybe for lunch. How about if we meet here at the hotel say about one in the afternoon. I’m sure I’ll have myself in better order then.”
And because Ralph Ames was—as he appeared to be—a gentleman, he agreed at once. “Of course,” he said. “That’ll give me time to be in touch with Mort Caudill and work on extracting your vehicle from the clutches of the impound lot.”
“That would be wonderful, Mr. Ames,” Maddy said. “And don’t think I’m not grateful. It’s just that I’m so tired.”
“Not to worry, Mrs. Watkins,” he said, handing her a business card. “Here are my numbers. I’ll see you tomorrow at one unless you call to tell me otherwise.”
“Please,” she said. “Call me Maddy.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “As long as you call me Ralph.”
By then the usual cluster of bellmen was grouped around the car. Once outside Ralph’s Mercedes, Maddy commandeered a pair of bellman. One of them she sent off with the leashed dogs for their final evening walk and the other up to the room with all the dog accouterments. Intent on renting a car, Maddy then took herself off to the concierge’s desk. Much to Maddy’s dismay, Sally was back on duty.
“Why, good evening, Mrs. Anderson,” Sally said with a smile. “How did that London Cabbie Company work out?”
“Fine,” Maddy replied, flustered. “Yes, it was just fine.”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
As soon as Sally called her Mrs. Anderson, Maddy realized she couldn’t rent a vehicle through the concierge. Her guest name and her driver’s-license name wouldn’t coincide.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Whatever it was seems to have slipped my mind.”
“Just call down whenever you remember,” Sally returned. “We’ll be here whenever you need us.”
Chagrined, Maddy hurried up to her room and made arrangements for her own damned rental car. Living under an alias was definitely not for sissies.
By then she realized Ralph Ames was right. It was long past dinner time and she was hungry. Once the dogs came back from their walk, she ordered soup from room service—a delicious lobster bisque and a medicinal vodka tonic. For a change she had no urge to turn on the television set in search of crime TV. She’d had more than enough of the real thing to last her for a very long time.
At nine the next morning, Maddy drove up to the entrance of Lakeside Senior Living. When Gennie appeared, she was wearing a suit with one of those thigh-high skirts that all the lady newscasters seemed to favor these days. As far as Maddy was concerned, skirts that short were iffy even for younger women with good legs. Gennie didn’t come close on either count. As for her hair? Someone had failed to mention to Gennie that the days of big hair had come and gone. Her headful of artificially blond hair was teased to within an inch of its life.
Gennie climbed into the front seat and tried to tug the skirt down enough
to cover some of her exposed leg. It didn’t work. She wasn’t especially fond of dogs and usually made no bones about saying so. Maddy fully expected Gennie to start complaining about the presence of the two dogs in the backseat of the rented Taurus. This time, though, perhaps out of gratitude for being given a ride, she simply pushed the dogs’ inquiring noses aside and reached for her seat belt. Beggars can’t, after all, be choosers.
“Where’s your car?” Gennie asked. “I thought you had one of those new CVRs.”
“CRV,” Maddy corrected. “It’s in the shop for its regularly scheduled maintenance,” she said. After two days of constant lying, telling fibs was almost second nature. “That’s why we’re stuck with a rental. Now where to?”