Death by Marriage
Page 2
Cindy remembered that Kendra’s husband was a criminal lawyer and that she had to know very well how the system worked.
“I’ve also seen the way the police here can zero in on one person and not bother about looking at anything else,” Kendra added. “It makes it easier for them, doesn’t it? They get their suspect and hound them until they crush them to a pulp.” She smiled then, an odd, bitter smile, and ran her hands through her hair. Obviously she was completely frazzled from the ordeal she was going through.
An expensive car was waiting at a curb. The three of them got in and drove along winding curvy roads, then through a bustling built up town, filled with tourists, locals, palm trees, and low buildings.
“Our home is at the other end of the town,” Kendra said, as they all fell silent and looked out the window. “The police have scoured it day after day. I’m not sure exactly what they’re looking for. I ask them but they don’t tell me. That’s why I hired you, to intercede with them for me, be an advocate. I want you to turn over every piece of unexamined evidence that I know is lying around. Find the real killer. Whoever it is, they’re out there in plain view, walking around like nothing happened. I’m paying you half up front and the rest when it’s over. And, there’ll be a big bonus on top of it when the killer’s locked up in jail.”
Cindy was struck with her vehemence. But Kendra had every reason to be unnerved, she’d been the main suspect since her husband was found. And she had to deal with the loss of him, on top of that.
“They keep going over my home,” Kendra said fitfully. “There’s nothing to find there.
We lived a good life. We were happy. He was a good man. No one in our home had anything to do with this. No one knows anything about it.” Her voice rose as she repeated these words, which Cindy imagined she had said again and again. To no avail. The papers reported that she was still the chief suspect.
Despite herself, Cindy shivered as she remembered her friend in Grenada, Dalia constantly telling her how happy she and her husband were, and what a good man he was. Cindy tossed her head to clear her mind. She had to realize that each situation was different. She had to give this woman a chance. Kendra and Dalia were different. It was dangerous to create suspicion so quickly based on something that had happened before. And it was easy to do, Cindy realized.
“It’s easy to miss a piece of evidence,” Mattheus said, “or to even realize that something’s important. When you check and re-check, suddenly something hits you.”
“Well, there’s nothing in my home,” Kendra repeated in an abrasive tone.
Cindy moved closer to Kendra in the car. “They have to believe that there’s something in your home that will lead them to the killer. It’s routine to investigate the family and next of kin,” she said kindly.”
There was something about this woman, though, that drew doubt to her. It would be a challenge to find out who Kendra truly was and what had really gone on. And Cindy would.
The car drove through the business section quickly, past the buildings and open malls, up one hill and down another, to a neighborhood of private homes, facing out onto the ocean. The car pulled up in front of a beautiful, white stucco house, with perfect gardens in the front and a huge open porch surrounding it.
“Here we are,” said Kendra.
“What a beautiful home,” breathed Cindy, taking in the grandeur.
“It was a beautiful home,” said Kendra, bitterly. “For many years. Now it’s being invaded by the whole world.”
Cindy was about to say something, but looked over at Mattheus who shook his head. He was letting her know that she should back off. There was no need to soothe Kendra – they were stepping into a tangled situation, and had to allow everything to be revealed. Cindy appreciated Mattheus’ experience, and his sensitivity. She caught his eye and smiled at him. He smiled back as they got out of the car and walked to the front door.
Kendra’s home was decorated lavishly, with large antique vases, huge plants, expensive, furniture and amazing paintings covering the walls.
“Paul loved fine art,” Kendra said, as Cindy looked slowly around. “He was a connoisseur of everything– art, food, antique vases.”
“You have a wonderful collection.”
“Paul earned it. He worked hard. He did well.” Kendra sat down on the couch then, as if the wind were suddenly knocked out of her. “And look how he died. Horrifying.”
Cindy took a deep breath and sat down beside her on the couch.
A housekeeper appeared, bringing a pitcher of water and glasses.
“Thanks Maggie,” said Kendra. “Please ask our guests what else they’d like and bring it here for them. And bring me a Marguerite, please.” Then she tossed a quick look at Cindy and Mattheus. “Of course I never started drinking so early in the day, but with this incredible tension, what else is there to do?”
“Before you start drinking, we need you to talk to us,” Cindy said.
“What more can I say? Seems as if every detail has been leaked to the papers.”
“You’re the main suspect because of the insurance policy?” Mattheus started the questioning.
“So they say,” said Kendra. “Paul took the policy out about three months ago. Bad timing, to say the least. We had another policy before that for years, but suddenly Paul wanted to upgrade it. So, now I have a huge insurance policy on his life and it’s creating complete turmoil. Why would I kill him for money? I have plenty of money, I have this house, and I have my own tour business.”
“Is that the only reason you’re the suspect?” Mattheus continued.
Once again, Kendra turned to Cindy, looked at her plaintively.
“Is that the only reason? It’s enough, isn’t it? But, of course, there are always other matters as well. It’s easier to talk about those with a woman, though,” Kendra said.
“I understand,” said Cindy. “Do you want Mattheus to leave the room?”
“No, he can stay here if he wants. But I’d rather talk to you. I’ve been dealing with men for too long now – mostly, they don’t have a heart. Some even enjoy seeing us women suffer. More than you would imagine.”
Mattheus flinched. “I’ll take a walk on the grounds for a little while so the two of you can talk to each other.”
“Thanks,” said Kendra, dismissively.
Mattheus left and Cindy moved closer to Kendra.
“What do you want to tell me?” Cindy asked gently.
“I didn’t do it. Why would I? Besides the damn insurance policy there’s no motive anyone can find. Paul and I were happy. We did well together. We came down to the island separately, years ago. We met and fell in love right away. God knows why. Things look different when you’re young. Anyway, we decided to make the island our home. Paul was a brand new lawyer, I was an art major, and decided to give tours of the island and paint. It was a lovely life. I enjoyed it. I loved living here. We built a family, had two daughters. All was going well.”
“Someone had some reason to kill him, though,” Cindy said softly.
Kendra’s eyes filled with tears. “Who?”
“I have no idea,” said Cindy. “You’ll have to fill me in more on his life.”
“Nobody’s asked who I thought might have killed him,” Kendra said in a hushed tone. “All they’ve kept asking me is about our marriage, and where it went wrong. It didn’t go wrong. I keep telling them that.”
“Never?” asked Cindy.
“A marriage is a marriage. It had ups and downs. We grew to understand each other.”
Kendra’s eye started twitching. “He was human like anyone. He had his flaws. They weren’t a crime. He didn’t deserve to die for them.”
“What kind of flaws?” Cindy pursued it.
“Paul enjoyed hanging at the bars for drinks after work. It relaxed him. At first I didn’t think it was a big deal. I still don’t. But over the years, he did it more and more. He needed time away.”
“You’ll tell me which bars?” said
Cindy.
“Of course, I’ll tell you. But so what? He had a stressful job, defending criminals and handling a damn lot of them, too. So, he’d have a drink to unwind. Is that so terrible?”
“Of course not. But I need to know more about his habits.”
Margaret came in with the tray carrying coffee and Marguerites. Kendra quickly reached for her drink, but Cindy stopped her.
“Later,” Cindy said.
At that moment, Mattheus strolled by on the lawn, in front of the large, glass windows.
Kendra put her drink down and looked at him.
“He’s very gallant,” Kendra said suddenly. Very handsome and very smart.”
“Your husband?” asked Cindy.
“No, your friend out there. I suppose both of you have to know everything?”
“Of course we do,” Cindy said.
Kendra raised her eyebrows for a moment. “Quite a team,” she said. Then she reached out for her drink again, only to think better of it and put it down. “You’re right; it doesn’t make sense to drink so early. Besides in a few minutes, my daughter will be coming home from school.
“The papers haven’t said much about your daughter,” asked Cindy, curious.
“Why should they?” Kendra was quick on the uptake. “She’s in her late teens, grieving.
Why drag her into this mess?”
“No reason,” Cindy responded.
“Besides, she’s a handful,” said Kendra. “Always has been. She was close to her father, but she and I were mostly at odds. Not so unusual for mothers and teenage daughters.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Cindy. “I look forward to meeting her.”
Kendra shrugged, “Whatever.” she said. “
“Anything else you want to tell me now?” asked Cindy.
Kendra sat up stiffly in her chair. Cindy could see this was hard for her. She resented every minute of it, was brittle and proud. It wasn’t her way to speak freely to strangers.
“What I wanted to say is something simple, but it hurts like hell. I told it to the cops, but it didn’t make a dent on them. They laughed in my face.”
“What is it?” said Cindy.
“Paul stayed out of town a few nights every week. Said he was in St. Croix.[MSOffice1] He had cases there, but he also he liked to gamble. It was his one weak spot, if you can call it that. He told me he stayed in St. Croix for his work, but I often wondered if something else drew him.”
“The gambling?”
“I grew to wonder if he had a woman.”
Cindy took a deep, quick breath. It made sense.
“It’s not that unusual, you know,” Kendra added quickly, surprised at Cindy’s reaction. “We’d been together for almost twenty years. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good to me. He was. By a woman, I mean a mistress. Something on the side, not important. His murder could have something to do with that. These island women out here get crazy, start dreaming about all kinds of things.”
The door to living room opened and Mattheus walked in and came over to Kendra.
Clearly, he was eager to get to the next step.
“I think it’s important for us to check into the police station now, let them know we’ve arrived, and see what else they have for us to do. We’ll all have plenty of time to talk to each other, fill in the details.”
Cindy knew it was time to move on for now. She needed to get the name of the bar Paul hung out at, and more information about his work on St. Croix.
A strange pall came over Kendra’s face as the two of them got up to leave. “You just arrived and now you’re leaving,” she said in an odd tone.
“We need to get filled in on as much as we can as soon as possible,” Cindy said. “We’ll be back in a little while. You’re not alone.”
“Wrong again,” Kendra echoed in a husky voice. “I’m completely alone. More alone than you can ever imagine. And no one even really knows.”
CHAPTER 3
The police station was located in a mid-sized, stucco building off the main road. A wide entranceway surrounded by a fence, bordered by palm trees, led up to the main entrance. Little geckos jumped happily along the fence, peering out at visitors unsuspectingly. Mattheus had notified the police that he and Cindy would be arriving and had been hired to work on the case.
When Cindy and Mattheus walked in, a few policemen were sitting at desks, a few others gathered in the rear talking. At first no one looked up.
Mattheus walked up to the policeman at the front desk. “Mattheus -- Private Investigations,” he said and extended his hand.
The officer at the desk looked up and took Mattheus in. In a flash, he decided that he liked him and extended his hand. “Heard you were coming. Fred Brayton,” he said and took Mattheus’ hand.
Mattheus, an experienced cop, felt at home with the police, and the guy probably felt it. Cindy watched the two of them size each other up favorably.
“Welcome to the island,” Brayton continued. A few of the other cops looked up and came over.
“This is my partner, Cindy,” Mattheus said, including her.
Fred Brayton smiled a wide smile, showing huge white teeth. “Now that’s what I call a fine business,” he said.
Some of the other cops looked at Cindy briefly. One raised his eyes, surprised. Clearly they were not accustomed to women detectives down here on the islands. She saw she would have to earn their respect.
Brayton got up from behind his desk, turning entirely to Mattheus. “We checked you out when we heard you were coming,” he said. “The guys down in Grenada only had the best things to say about you.”
Mattheus flushed. He seemed to like being recognized among his peers.
“So, let’s go inside and talk a few minutes,” Mattheus said. “You can fill us in on the details.”
Brayton threw a quick look at Cindy, wondering if she were coming too.
“Cindy’s done some fantastic work,” Mattheus interjected immediately.
“Beginner’s luck,” Cindy heard another tall, muscular cop, mutter under his breath.
“We’re lucky to have Cindy on board,” Matthew said definitively.
Brayton seemed taken aback at Mattheus’ vehemence, so did a few of the other cops. They stopped and looked at her hard. Cindy felt the band of brotherhood between them that naturally kept a woman at bay.
“The widow requested a woman detective to work with her on her case,” Mattheus continued.
“The widow?” Brayton laughed in a mocking tone. “Wouldn’t exactly call the little wife a widow.”
“Why not?” Mattheus asked at once, alerted.
“Let’s all go in and sit down,” Brayton said, nodding in Cindy’s direction, inviting her to join them as well. “There’s a lot to cover.”
He led them and a few other cops down through a long hallway, into a meeting room, with a round table, ceiling fan and huge coffee machine in the corner, with paper cups piled near it.
Brayton went over to the coffee maker and began pouring coffee into some cups.
“You take yours with or without milk and sugar?” he asked Cindy first.
“Milk and sugar,” said Cindy.
“I’ll have mine black, “Mattheus said.
Brayton came back with the coffee and the tall, muscular cop, went to a file, yanked it open and pulled out some papers. Then he came back to the table and sat beside them. Two other cops joined them around the table as well.
They all sat quietly for a moment and drank their coffee until Brayton broke the silence. “This lady isn’t exactly what we call a grieving widow. From the way things look to us now – we got the killer.”
Cindy breathed in swiftly. Shocking, she thought. Case closed in their minds.
“Show me what you have,” said Mattheus.
Brayton ruffled through some papers with one hand and he gulped more coffee with the other.
“Okay, here’s what we got. As you probably know, the hubby took out a two million dollar insurance p
olicy in her name, just three months before he got killed.”
Mattheus raised his eyebrows. “We heard. That’s a lot of cash.”
“Just three months before,” the big muscular, cop chimed in. “Tell me why?”
“Good question,” said Mattheus.
“But why would she be so stupid to kill him such a short time after?” asked Cindy asked. “It’s too obvious.”
The big, muscular cop closed his eyes until they were almost slits and peered at Cindy.
“Nothing is obvious to someone who gets it in their minds to kill,” he muttered. “They all think they can do anything they want and no one will catch them. I know these killers inside and out. They think they got a right to snuff out a life at the drop of a dime. It gives them a thrill.”
Brayton laughed a little. “Nojo has his theories. He’s a great cop, almost never wrong.”
Nojo seemed to like that. He cocked his head to the side. “I can smell a killer ten miles away.”
“Sounds like you think the case is closed,” Cindy took him on.
Nojo grinned. “Your little lady has got a feisty nature,” he said to Mattheus.
Mattheus shook his head. “She likes to hear all the details.”
Cindy didn’t like being spoken of as a little lady. She realized that Mattheus was standing up for her, but she could do it for herself as well. This crazy cop, Nojo, made her uneasy. He seemed to have a vendetta.
“Okay, what else do you have?” Mattheus wanted to move forward.
“No alibi,” Nojo broke in. “Time of death was about 5:30 p.m. Where was she then? This is what will get her! She said she was at home. Really? This was a working lady. Every other day she was out at work, leading tours of the island. How come this particular day she was home? She said she didn’t feel well, had bad dreams all night before. I bet she did.” As Nojo spoke his mouth grew wet with saliva. He tasted victory and an easy one at that.
“What else?” asked Cindy, impatient.
“Hold on a minute, and listen,” Nojo said. “Did anyone see her at home that day? “No one. Her housekeeper was off for the day. Convenient. Her daughter didn’t happen to come home after school. She decided to spend the afternoon away. Very, very convenient. It doesn’t take an idiot to know that none of this adds up.”