Blood Rubies

by Jane K. Cleland

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  “No, it’s not. I lost control. I messed up.”

  “Hard to see it that way from where I sit.” She pressed her earpiece. “Let’s go. The powers that be want us pronto.”

  I girded myself, certain I was about to get yelled at.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “We’ll talk later,” Ellis said as the technician removed the wires that ran along my spine. “I don’t want to lose any momentum. You’ll go back into the observation room. Text me if you think of anything or if I’m wrong about anything.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ana’s here, too. She came as soon as she saw the photos Wes published, the ones you sent him of Peter getting arrested.”

  I raised my chin. “I figured she would.”

  Ellis held the door for me. “Let’s go.” He shook his head, a rueful expression on his face. “A Panamanian company? A Russian collector who’s in the mob?”

  I smiled, my saucy one. “I told you I had a good plan.”

  * * *

  I got settled in the observation room, sitting next to Daryl, who was wearing headphones and concentrating on sound levels. I was tired and achy and still fuming. I wanted to go to work. I wanted to go home. I wanted this to be over.

  Ana sat at the foot of the long table, her hands primly folded, her shoulders hunched forward. She looked as tired as I felt. Peter sat to her right, tapping his foot. Detective Brownley and Griff sat in back of Peter on metal folding chairs they’d positioned against the wall.

  Stefan stepped into the room and froze. “What’s going on here?”

  “Daddy,” Ana said, sitting up.

  “Don’t say a word,” Peter said.

  Ellis, coming in behind Stefan, pointed to the chair next to Peter and closed the door. Stefan sat down. Ellis took his usual chair at the head of the table. He slid the sheet containing the Miranda warning across the table to Stefan.

  “Please take a minute and read this,” Ellis said.

  Stefan signed it without reading it and slid it back.

  Ellis smiled at him, man to man. “I’m hoping you’ll decide to help your son.”

  “Of course. Always.”

  “No, Dad,” Peter said. “Don’t say a word. It’s all a trick to squeeze me for a confession.”

  “A confession?” Stefan asked, bewildered. He faced Ellis. “What do you think my son needs to confess?”

  “You need to know that arrest warrants have arrived. For Peter. The charges are serious, obstructing justice and tampering with evidence. The DA is still considering whether to add a charge of accessory to murder after the fact. What I need to ask you about now is laundry, your laundry.” Ellis explained how and why Peter had been arrested. “The charges, while serious, are ancillary to the main issue, of course. I don’t need his confession. What I need is yours—I need you to tell me about killing Jason Ferris, which, of course, may well have been an accident.”

  Peter fist-pounded the table. “Don’t fall for it, Dad. They can’t charge me with anything if we don’t talk.”

  “The charges have already been filed. The paperwork is in my office. If I have to execute the warrants, I will.” Ellis turned to Stefan. “If you tell us what happened to Jason, honestly and completely, I’m sure the DA will drop these charges.”

  “Forget it,” Peter said.

  “It’s the only thing you can do to help him,” Ellis said. “It’s also the right thing to do. Tell me what happened. Tell the truth.”

  “It was an accident,” Stefan said, his eyes down.

  Ana gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth.

  “No!” Peter shouted. “Not another word.”

  Ellis touched Stefan’s arm, and when he looked up, he met his eyes. “You have my word, Stefan. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that your son is not arrested on these charges.”

  Stefan bowed his head. “Thank you.”

  Ellis nodded at Griff and Detective Brownley. They stood up. Griff approached Ana.

  “Let me walk you out,” he said.

  “Daddy?”

  “Go,” Stefan said.

  She kept his eyes on his for a moment, then followed Griff from the room.

  Detective Brownley touched Peter’s upper arm. “Sir?”

  “Forget it,” he said, brushing her hand aside. “Feel lucky you got Ana out. I’m staying.”

  “No, you’re not,” Stefan said. “I don’t want you here.”

  “Too bad. I’m staying.”

  Ellis joined Detective Brownley beside his chair.

  “If I have to haul you out of the chair,” Ellis said, “you might get hurt. It’s better to leave upright, under your own steam.”

  Peter looked up at him. “Tough guy, huh?”

  “Tough has nothing to do with it. You can go easy or you can go hard, just so long as you’re clear on one thing—you’re going.”

  “Peter,” Stefan said softly, “you have no part in this. Go comfort your sister.”

  Peter stared at his father for ten seconds, maybe longer, then stood up and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  The interrogation room was quiet as we waited for Detective Brownley to return.

  From outside, I heard a lawn mower rev up, then shut down. A dog barked. A car door shut.

  Griff stuck his head in and asked Ellis if he wanted anything.

  “Would you like some water?” Ellis asked Stefan.

  “Yes, please.”

  Ellis glanced at Griff, and he backed out of the room. I had to stop myself from laughing at their mannerly conversation, so polite, so gentlemanly, so bizarre.

  Detective Brownley came into the room and spoke to Stefan. “Your children asked me to tell you they’ll wait in the lobby.”

  “They should leave. There’s nothing for them to do.”

  “I told them the same thing,” she said, “but they want to stay.”

  “They love you,” Ellis said.

  Griff returned carrying a clear plastic pitcher in one hand and a stack of white plastic cups in the other. He poured a cup for Stefan and placed it in front of him. Stefan thanked him. Griff asked if anyone else wanted any, and when Ellis and Detective Brownley said no, he placed the pitcher and cups on the table and left the room.

  Ellis glanced at the video cameras to confirm that the red lights were on, indicating the machines were running.

  “Thank you for agreeing to talk to us.”

  “Josie was a plant,” Stefan said. “There is no Russian collector.”

  “That’s right,” Ellis said. “She was wearing a wire. We have the recording. Two undercover police officers were on the scene as well, also listening in.”

  Stefan paused, thinking. “If I recall correctly, the only crime I admitted to was replicating the Fabergé egg without telling the owner. I doubt you can charge me with fraud. It would require that my daughter testify against me, and I don’t think she will.”

  “I agree with you. That’s why I asked to talk to you privately. The charges against your son are not a put-up job. They’re serious. He’ll be convicted and he’ll do hard time. You need to tell me the truth. Start with Jason. You said killing him was an accident.”

  Stefan sipped water. He seemed oddly calm. “Jason was in Ana’s house when I got there. I’d never met him before, but of course I’d heard of him from Ana and Heather, and I recognized him from his photo.” He raised and then lowered his shoulders, trying to relax, perhaps. “Can you imagine how I felt walking in with the reproduction egg in my hand? Here he was, the cause of my downfall, the man that drove me to crime.” Stefan shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. “He was insufferable.”

  “What happened?”

  “I told him I’d lost some money on his recommendations. He was derisive, joking that only a fool takes a newsletter’s advice. I asked if he was serious, and he laughed in my face.”

  “So you knocked him down.”

  “No. I told h
im to get some manners, to show a little class, but he just kept laughing.” Stefan took in a deep breath. “I pushed him, and he stumbled. He hit his head.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I ran to him, and I tripped. That’s when the snow globe and egg broke. I could see right away that Jason was dead. I’m not proud of what I did next.” He took in a breath. “I left and went to the library.”

  “You pushed him. He fell and hit his head. That’s it?”

  Stefan looked puzzled. “What else?”

  “Did you hit him after he was down?”

  “Hit him? What are you talking about?”

  Ellis paused, keeping his eyes on Stefan’s. “Why did you kill Milner?”

  He met Ellis’s eyes. “I didn’t.”

  “Why did you attack Josie Prescott?”

  He shook his head. “Attack Josie? I didn’t.”

  “You need to tell me the whole truth, Stefan. A deal’s a deal.”

  Stefan finished his water and slid the cup aside. “I have.”

  “Who do you think killed Milner?”

  “I assume it was a tragic accident.”

  “It wasn’t. It was murder. The dive team found the weapon, a rock. The ME uses imaging technology to match weapons to wounds.”

  Stefan stared at Ellis. “I didn’t know.”

  “Did you meet him that morning?”

  Stefan refilled his cup, then sipped some water.

  “We know you called him,” Ellis said.

  “I met him, yes.”

  “Where?”

  “By Bailey Brook. It’s deserted, a good place to have a private conversation.”

  “Not by Locke Pond?”

  “No. When we were finished, I drove back to Rocky Point. Milner headed the other way, toward Durham.” Stefan leaned forward. “When I left him, he was alive and well.”

  Ellis tilted his head and leaned back. “What did you talk about?”

  “I asked him to keep the appraisal confidential. He said he’d tried, but you got a court order, so he was going to have to answer your questions and he wouldn’t perjure himself. I told him I understood, and I did. I was prepared to face Ana, to tell her what I’d done.”

  “And then Milner died. Quite a fortuitous coincidence.”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Who did?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Who did you tell that you were going to meet Milner?” Ellis asked.

  Stefan rubbed his head again as he had in the library. His headache must have worsened.

  “You told someone,” Ellis said. “You must have.”

  Stefan shook his head.

  “Tell me.”

  “I feel terrible about Jason,” Stefan said. “Just awful. I’m glad I told you about it. It’s been a terrible weight to bear.”

  “I don’t think you set Milner up on purpose, but whoever you told killed him. We’ll check your phone log. See who you called directly after you called him.”

  Stefan stared at him for several seconds. “I speak to my children frequently. It means nothing.”

  “Peter was in on it.”

  “No!” Stefan protested. “Of course not.”

  “It was Ana?”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “I know how hard it is,” Ellis said. “Implicating your own flesh and blood.”

  “Family above all.” Stefan raised his chin. “I won’t do it.”

  I texted Ellis, “He’s wearing sandals.”

  Ellis stared at his phone display for a moment, then pushed back his chair and stood up.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told Stefan. “Detective Brownley will be here, and we’ll leave the recorder rolling. If you have anything to add while I’m gone, don’t hesitate.”

  Ellis stuck his head into the observation room, pointed at me, and said, “Follow me.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Your role is over. Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I know what happened,” I said.

  “Yeah. Me, too. Which means all that’s left is the paperwork.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Ellis and I walked into the lobby side by side. As soon as we rounded the corner, Peter leaped to his feet. Ana, sitting beside him on the long wooden bench, scooched forward. Her eyes were moist. Her teeth were clamped on her bottom lip.

  “Where’s my father?” Peter demanded, turning the words into a threat.

  Griff came into the open area from behind the counter. Stan walked out from the hallway that led to the other side of the station house. Two other uniformed officers who’d been working at desks near Cathy stood up and approached the counter. Cathy kept on typing.

  Peter took in the posse and crossed his arms. Ellis put out his arm like a blockade, signaling me to stop. I moved aside and leaned against the wall. He continued walking until he stood directly in front of Peter.

  “I’m going to ask you to do something,” Ellis said, “and you’re not going to like it.”

  “I already don’t like it and you haven’t asked.”

  “Take off your sweater.”

  Peter stared at him. “You’re nuts.”

  “Let’s see your right arm.”

  Peter swung around to talk to Ana. “This is bull. Let’s get out of here.”

  Ana looked toward the hallway that led to Interrogation Room One. “What about Dad?”

  Peter didn’t reply; instead, he marched toward the heavy front door.

  Ellis pointed both index fingers toward Peter, and Griff and Stan got in front of him, blocking the exit.

  “You can’t leave,” Ellis said. “I have a warrant for your arrest.”

  “Peter,” Ana said, walking slowly toward him. “What have you done?”

  “Whatever I could to help Dad.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Peter.”

  Peter swung back to face Ellis. “Am I under arrest?”

  Ellis met his gaze and held it. “Yes.”

  * * *

  The sun had disappeared behind fast-moving clouds, yet the temperature had risen. I stood with Ana in the parking lot, waiting for Ray to come get her. I’d offered to drive her wherever she wanted to go, but she declined, asking me to keep her company instead.

  “Did you tell Peter about the mineral oil?” I asked.

  She didn’t reply. She didn’t look at me. Her gaze was steady on the ocean. The water had turned a dull dark green.

  “I mentioned it to you,” I said. “You told him, didn’t you? Not for a bad reason, just because it was an interesting little detail.”

  She still didn’t comment. I turned toward the water. Rows of striated waves thundered to shore fueled by a steady northeast wind.

  “Ana?”

  “I’m all alone,” she said.

  I didn’t know how to reply.

  “My husband left me for an older woman.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “No one liked him but me. My dad thought he was an idiot. My friends thought he was a complete loser. I loved him, and he left me for a woman old enough to be his mother.”

  “I had a boyfriend leave me because I was a downer, his word. I’d lost my job, my friends, and then my dad died, all within the space of a month or so. Two weeks later, he walked.”

  “How did you cope?” Ana asked.

  “I moved to New Hampshire to start a new life.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe there’s hope for me.”

  “Is there something I can do?” I asked.

  “No.”

  I kept my eyes on the ocean. Two minutes later Ray pulled into the lot and Ana hurled herself into his arms.

  * * *

  Wes and I met in the Blue Dolphin lounge at five. Ty texted that he expected to arrive earlier than expected.

  I got there first and sank into my usual spot by the window. Wes walked in with an unexpected bounce to his step
. He was wearing pressed navy blue slacks that fit nicely and a blue and pale pink pin-striped Oxford shirt.

  “You look sharp,” I said.

  He grinned. “Maggie took me shopping in Boston.” He laughed, half awkward, half proud. “I spent like a month’s pay.”

  “You look great, Wes.”

  “Thanks.”

  He looked over his shoulder until he caught Jimmy’s eye. He ordered a coffee. I got a watermelon martini.

  He waggled his fingers. “So … talk to me.”

  “It looks like your article helped motivate Peter to act. Seeing those cowboy hat designs got him going.”

  “Good to know.” He grinned. “I’ll tell my editor.” His grin faded. “I heard from my police source that you were there. How come the cops let you stay the whole time?”

  “I was just-in-case protection. You know … just in case an antiques question came up. Just in case Stefan said something that didn’t gel with a fact I knew. Just in case Ellis needed to talk to McArthur about the Fabergé egg. Just in case.”

  He grinned. “And you figured it out. Bonzo, Josie! Completely bonzo.”

  “I can’t believe it took me so long. It was obvious that Stefan couldn’t be my attacker. He was wearing shorts and sandals, and his sleeves were pushed up. No bruises anywhere, and I’m telling you, Wes, from the whacks I got in on his ankles and arm, I’m surprised I didn’t break bones.” I shrugged. “If it wasn’t Stefan, it had to be Peter.”

  “Or Ana.”

  I shook my head. “She wasn’t the person who attacked me.”

  Wes tilted his head. “Do you think Jason’s death was really an accident?”

  “Yes. What does Stefan do when Jason falls and dies? He flees to the library and buries himself in journals and newspapers. That’s perfectly consistent with his character. What happens when Peter shows up and finds Jason’s body? Some kind of jealous-like-a-madman blood thirst comes over him, and he pounds Jason’s head against those stones over and over again. It’s logical.”

  “You think?” Wes asked, sounding skeptical. “Do you think Peter is loony tunes?”

  “I don’t think so, but I don’t know the official terminology. I know he’s obsessed with Heather. She’s the sun around which his world revolves. No joke. It’s his be-all and end-all. He covers it up pretty well, but he’s a stalker, just like in the movies, except it’s real. It’s terrifying, but whether that means he’s crazy?” I shrugged. “If it ever gets to a trial, it’s certain to be a case of dueling experts. The prosecutor will prove that Peter is rational and understands the difference between right and wrong. The defense will prove that when it comes to Heather, Peter operates in the ether.”