Web of Silence: A Ray Schiller Novel (The Ray Schiller Series Book 4)
Page 13
“I came to check on Ellie.”
Ray stepped out, intentionally blocking Dunn’s path. “Any change in her condition?”
“She’s doing better, but they say they don’t want to rush things. They’re keeping her under a while longer.”
They were forced to step aside to let people enter the elevator.
“I talked with your former mother-in-law today,” Ray said. “If you have a minute, I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask you.” Ray jerked his head in the direction of a waiting room. “We can talk down there.” Along the way he asked, “How’s your son doing?”
“Nathan’s doing better now that he knows Ellie is going to be all right. He’s actually handling things surprisingly well.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
They turned into the empty waiting room and sat down opposite one another.
“Who’s taking care of your son while you’re here?” Ray asked.
“My housekeeper’s keeping an eye on him.”
Housekeeper. Ray had known men to use the term loosely referring to live-in lovers, who took the time to make the bed in the morning and wash out the wine glasses from the night before.
“Until things get back on track, are you making any longer-term plans for his care?”
“I’ll be interviewing nannies later today.”
Ray leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs. “About Jeanette Seeger… I’m confused about your relationship.”
“Are you kidding? What’s confusing about that? The woman hates me with a passion. Didn’t Jeanette lay everything out for you chapter and verse?”
“She gave us a more detailed account of the carjacking incident than you did, but—”
Dunn got up from his seat. “Look, I made a mistake—a huge mistake, but I—”
“Mr. Dunn, I’m not trying to stir up more trouble, but I get the feeling something else is going on. It’s clear she dislikes you, but—”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Dunn said. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“When we talked to her, I got the impression she might be a little afraid of you.”
Dunn burst into laughter. “Afraid? Of me? Now that’s rich.”
“She said you and Elena talked her into moving here. Is that true?”
“Yes, after Ellie’s father died. With Jeanette’s low charm quotient, I understand your surprise.” Dunn grinned. “Still, she is Ellie’s mother, and I was raised to believe you ‘do’ for family.”
Ray frowned. “I’d have thought that would’ve earned you some gratitude, not resentment.”
Dunn’s grin faded. “Jeanette moved here expecting more.”
“What kind of expectations are we talking about?”
“The living arrangements for one. Jeanette imagined she’d move in with us. I was willing to give that a try, but Ellie absolutely refused to consider it. Apparently her mother rode roughshod over her all her life. It’s why Ellie moved away and came here in the first place. We found a house for Jeanette that’s close enough for Ellie to check on her and lend a hand if she needs help, but it’s far enough away that she can’t stick her nose in everything Ellie does. For her sake, I let Jeanette think I was responsible for that decision.” Dunn sat down again—more like a collapse than a voluntary choice. “Anyway,” he added, “Jeanette hates the house I bought for her and its location because it accomplishes exactly what Ellie wanted it to.”
“You bought the house for her?” Ray asked.
“Jeanette couldn’t afford to do it, and the way Ellie felt about keeping her mother at a safe distance, it was the best solution I could think of. Except for her food, clothing, and miscellaneous expenses like her beauty parlor appointments, she lives there free and clear.”
“And she still objects?”
“Mightily. I bought the house outright. It’s in my name. The place is nice but small. We thought that would be easier for her to manage. It’s no mansion, but my pockets have bottoms, too.”
Dunn raked his hands through his hair. “When Ellie and I divorced, I made sure the settlement provided enough for her to continue to cover expenses for herself, Nathan and Jeanette, too.”
A crease appeared between Ray’s eyebrows. “Wait a minute. If you took the blame for your mother-in-law’s living arrangements while you and Elena were married, didn’t she expect them to change once you divorced?”
“She did,” Dunn said. “Ellie tried to spare her feelings, but when Jeanette kept after her about moving in with her, she finally told her outright that she wanted things to stay just as they were. That didn’t go over well.”
Ray thought about that. “So, you’ve been divorced for over two years and you’re still footing the bill for your ex-wife’s mother. Why?”
“Because she’s Ellie’s mother.”
Ray gave him a blank stare.
Dunn shrugged. “Jeanette may drive Ellie crazy, but there’s still a bond between them. Do you really think if I threw her mother out, that I’d ever stand a chance of getting Ellie back?”
Ray stood, shaking his head. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch again.”
Downstairs, he located Waverly leaning against a wall in a treatment room as the doctor finished stitching up Severson’s head.
“What kept you?” Waverly asked. “Is she out of her coma?”
“No, but I ran into Dave Dunn up there, and we had an interesting talk.”
Waverly bobbed his head when Ray was done passing the information on. “So the ‘Iron Maiden’ has an axe to grind with both of them.”
“That about sums it up,” Ray said. “When it comes to Dunn, Seeger growls and snaps like a dog on a chain, but she’s no fool. The house belongs to him.”
“That explains a couple things,” Waverly said. “If she takes too big a chunk out of the hand that feeds her, she knows Dunn could get fed up with it and kick her to the curb. She and her prima donna attitude wouldn’t have a place to go.”
“Exactly. Her opinions are probably tempered with old-fashioned self-preservation.” Ray arched an eyebrow. “You know, I started out thinking Dunn’s claim that he still loves his ex-wife was nothing but a good cover. Now I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t almost an obsessive attachment.”
“I hear ya,” Waverly said, “Maybe he’s holding Jeanette Seeger’s fate over his ex-wife’s head as a way to get her back.”
“Maybe that’s it, maybe not,” Ray said. “Depending on which it is, Dave Dunn could either be the salt of the earth or the dregs.”
20
For the better part of an hour, Blake “The Snake” Severson was left alone in an interview room to worry about what was coming his way.
Ray walked in and pointed to the patch job the E.R. doctor had done. “Nice piece of embroidery.”
Severson’s lip curled.
Waverly followed Ray inside and shut the door. Ray didn’t harbor any warm, fuzzy feelings toward Severson, but since a friendly approach was often most effective, he drew on his stores of basic human sympathy and whatever acting skills he could muster.
He started the tape recorder and logged in the relevant information before saying, “With the beating you took, I don’t suppose you’re feeling real great. What do you say we cut to the chase and get this over with?”
“You’re right. I feel like shit, and I’m not talking.”
“How about a couple aspirins?” Ray asked. “I’ve got some right here.”
Severson gave him a suspicious look, then held out his hand. Ray pulled a bottle from one of his pockets and tapped two tablets into the punk’s palm while Waverly set a glass of water in front of him.”
Without a “thanks,” he took the aspirin and set the glass down. “I’m still not talking.”
“There’s no point in making this any harder than it has to be, Blake,” Ray told him. “A search warrant for your apartment is being issued right now.”
“Do I look worried? You’re not gonna find nothin’.”
“I ain’t telling you squat.”
“Look,” Ray said, “once the lab confirms the blood belongs to one or both of them, you’re going to be in a world of hurt.”
“What difference does it make? I’m already there.”
Waverly arched an eyebrow. “Believe me, if you cooperate, it can make a difference. Would you rather be up Shit Creek with or without a paddle?”
“Go screw yourself.”
Waverly smirked. “Maybe later.”
Ray leaned forward, keeping his voice low and controlled. “Maybe we’ve got it wrong. Tell us where you were when Lundquist was killed.”
Severson opened his mouth to answer, then stopped, avoiding a subtle trap. “How am I supposed to know what time it was? I wasn’t there.”
“Okay,” Waverly said. “Tell us where you were between eleven Friday night and two on Saturday morning?”
“I was hanging out with a couple buddies.”
“Names?” Ray asked
“Skeeter and Mad Jack.”
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Waverly said. “What do their mothers call them?”
“Loser and Zero. Their moms don’t like ’em much.”
Waverly managed to dredge up a smile. “Cute.” He tried again. “Listen, Blake, if you expect to use Skeeter and Mad Jack as your alibi, it seems to me you oughta want to help us find them.”
“I’m not helping you do nothin’.”
“Which one of them rearranged your face?” Ray asked.
Severson stared at him with his one good eye. “I walked into a door.”
“Over and over and over again?” Ray said.
“Look, like I told you… I was with Skeeter and Mad Jack. I only know them by their street names. We were just hanging out together, seeing what was up, ya know?”
Waverly shrugged. “I know how that goes. Nothing was going on. You were bored—had time on your hands. You see a couple dressed to the nines and one thing leads to another except it goes a step farther than you intended. Did Lundquist put up a fight? Is that how it went down? Maybe it was one of your pals who fired those shots and then dragged you into his mess. Is that what happened?”
Severson sat up in his chair, back straight, every muscle tensed. “Where are you getting this crap?”
“We’re not trying to put words in your mouth,” Ray told him, “but we need to hear the truth. At this point, I don’t even think Skeeter and Mad Jack exist.”
“Like hell they don’t. Dwayne Harris and Jack Laatsch. Find ’em. Ask ’em. We didn’t do nothin’ to those people.”
“Good. Now that you’ve remembered their names,” Ray said, “maybe we can find them and see if they back up your story. If you’re lying about your involvement, though, they might decide to leave you twisting in the wind.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We can place you in that alley, Blake,” Ray said. “We have your prints on Lundquist’s wallet—no one else’s. And the blood on that shoe… You know where I’m going with this. So far, we don’t have anything on your pals—not yet, anyway. If they had something to do with what happened, they might distance themselves from you like you have the plague. They’re likely to alibi each other and let you take the fall alone. And, unless you tell us what you know, they could pull that off.”
“We’re giving you an opportunity,” Waverly said. “And make no mistake—it’s a first come, first served opportunity. If one of them cooperates before you do, you’re officially screwed.”
Severson’s nostrils flared. “I didn’t shoot nobody. I don’t even own a gun.”
“I can believe that,” Ray told him. “According to your record, you’ve never used a gun in the commission of a crime. I’m willing to work with you. All I’m asking for is some cooperation.”
Severson’s posture went from military rigidity to a slouch, but he didn’t answer.
“C’mon, Severson,” Waverly said. “Eventually we’re gonna find Lundquist’s credit cards and the rest of his and the woman’s things, and when we do, it’s gonna come back and bite you in the ass.”
“Even if that Rolex and the chick’s jewelry is in some pawn shop,” Severson insisted, “no hock shop flunky’s gonna finger me, because I didn’t hock it.”
Ray scratched his ear absentmindedly and exchanged a subtle look with Waverly. “We didn’t let it get out that the watch was a Rolex, Blake. You couldn’t have known that unless you were involved. You’d better come clean now before things get any worse.”
Severson held his head in his hands. When he looked up several seconds later, he said, “All right, I admit I was in that alley, but whatever happened to the man and that chick happened before I showed up.”
“What about your friends?” Ray asked.
“I was alone. They’d already split.”
“What time was that?” Waverly wanted to know.
“Late. Between one and one-thirty maybe.” He braced himself on his forearms. “I ducked into that alley to take a leak. It was so damned dark, I couldn’t tell what it was on the ground by the dumpster, so I went and took a closer look and saw the old guy and the woman.”
“Keep going,” Waverly said. “We’re listening.”
“They were just layin’ there. I figured the two of ’em were dead, you know? I saw the blood. There was something small and shiny on the woman’s neck—one of those puny, little necklaces women wear.” The space between his eyebrows creased. “I can’t think what they’re called.”
“A pendant?” Ray suggested.
“Yeah, that’s it. It was a diamond pendant—same as her earrings.”
“So you took her jewelry,” Waverly said, “that and everything else they had: Lundquist’s watch, wallet, credit cards, even his wedding ring.”
Severson retreated to the back of his chair again. “Yeah, so what? It’s not like they needed that stuff anymore, but I sure as hell didn’t kill them.”
“The woman’s alive,” Waverly told him. “I’m telling you that because, if you’re lying, you’d better understand it’s only a matter of time before she picks you out of a line-up. I want you to know what kind of trouble you’re facing. At some point, she’s gonna get out of the hospital, and if you’re not being straight with us, we’re gonna find out in a real quick hurry. Then you’re dead meat. You hear me, Blake?”
“Yeah, I hear you,” he said, “but it’s like I told you… They were already layin’ there when I went into the alley to take a piss. I took that stuff, but that’s all I did.”
Hands plunged in his pockets, Ray paced three steps forward and back. “We know you dumped Lundquist’s wallet in a trashcan a few blocks from there. What about the woman’s purse? What did you do with that?”
“I didn’t do nothin’ with no purse,” Severson said. “She didn’t have one.”
Waverly snorted. “Didn’t have one? I don’t know one woman who doesn’t lug a purse around when she goes out.”
“I’m telling you there was no purse. The chick didn’t have one.”
“All right,” Ray said, “so you took what they had. Aside from the wallet, what did you do with the rest of their things?”
“I took the stuff back to my place.”
“Where did you stash it?” Ray asked.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s gone. I owed a guy some money and he took everything.” He pointed to his battered face. “Maybe you can tell he was pissed.”
“Your drug dealer?” Ray asked.
“I don’t do drugs.” Dodging their reaction, he sped along. “With the cash I got off the old guy in the alley, I had more than enough to pay the goon what I owed, but when the asswipe saw me pull out that wad of bills, he grabbed the whole damn thing from me—better than eight h
undred bucks. Said he was taking it on account—on account of me keeping him waiting for his money.”
“And you tried to stop him,” Ray said.
“Not then. The guy’s as big as one of them Budweiser horses, and I figured I was still ahead of the game with that Rolex and the other stuff I got.”
“So what happened to it?” Waverly asked.
Severson’s face twisted into a snarl. “When I didn’t make a bigger stink over his grabbing the cash, he got wise and figured I was holding something back. He tore through the whole place, looking for whatever he could find. The son-of-a-bitch found it all and took that stuff, too. That’s when I tried to stop him.”
“And you got the crap beat outta you.”
His eyes flicked up at Waverly. “No shit. Anyway, he took off and it’s all gone. I ain’t got nothin’.”
Waverly fingered his mustache. “You want payback? Give us his name.”
“That’s not happening.” He pointed to his face. “If he found out I told you, the next time he saw me, this would feel like nothin’ but a damn love tap compared to what he’d do to me.”
Ten minutes later, Ray and Waverly hung back in the interview room after they had an officer take Severson back to his cell.
Waverly crossed an ankle over his knee, saying, “I thought he’d lawyer up, but with his record saying he’s ‘oh for three.’ I guess Snake’s lost his faith in public defenders.”
“My gut tells me Severson’s on the level about this, Dick.”
“Yeah, I got the same feeling,” Waverly said. “Wish we could’ve pried his dealer’s name outta him, though. Possession of stolen property on top of drug charges… That would’ve been sweet.”
“Yeah, but that’s in someone else’s ballpark now. Let’s get back to concentrating on Lundquist and Elena Dunn.”
Silence filled the room for nearly thirty seconds.
“So…” Waverly finally said, “if Severson’s story is on the up and up and the valuables were still on the victims when he walked into that alley, the mugging theory is off the table. If he hadn’t come along and picked them clean, we’d have known from the start.”