'Did you or did you not lie when you said he was with you on that night?' Terrell demanded, his voice hardening.
'Oh, go to hell! What does it matter? He's dead! He was the only man I ever cared for! He's dead! Get the hell out of here!' She got unsteadily to her feet and started towards the door as Beigler came in, a jug of coffee in one hand, a cup in the other.
'And you ... clear out too!' Gina screamed at him. She gave him a violent push so that the jug of coffee flew out of his hand, smashing against the wall. The coffee streamed down the wall as Gina, dodging around Beigler, ran into her bedroom and slammed the door.
Beigler smothered an expletive and then put the cup on the occasional table. He looked at Terrell.
'Leave her be for the moment,' Terrell said. 'Let's look around and see if we can find a motive for the killing.'
Methodically, the three men began to search the penthouse, avoiding Gina's room. It was Hess, a couple of hours later, searching Hardy's bedroom who found what they were looking for. In a large envelope, tucked behind a reproduction of a Picasso designed, above Hardy's bed, was a thin leather-bound diary, a folded letter addressed to Gina, and two cancelled cheques of five thousand dollars each made out to 'Bearer'.
Terrell sat on the bed and read the letter.
Dear Pekie,
If anything should happen to me, turn the contents of this envelope over to the police. Sue found out about the reefer racket I'm snarled up in, and she's been squeezing me ever since I threw her out. She got hold of the duplicates of the records and she has enough to put me away for ten years. She is set to squeeze me dry, but if I walk under a car or something, I want her to pay for the merry hell she's cooked up for me. Give Terrell the diary and the cheques. If he can't fix her, no one can.
Lee
Terrell spent some time going through the diary, then he looked over at Beigler who was smoking and sipping coffee he had made while Terrell was occupied.
'Here's the motive. He got tired of paying, so he knocked her off. He ripped her to make it look like a sex killing,' Terrell said. 'Now, I'll talk to her.'
'You're welcome,' Beigler said. 'Want me along?'
'What do you think?' Terrell got to his feet, and followed by Beigler, he walked from the lounge and into Gina's bedroom.
They found Gina, now dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, a glass half full of whisky in her hand.
'The Parnell woman was blackmailing Hardy.' Terrell said. 'We have proof here.' He waved the diary and the letter. 'Now come on: you lied when you said he was here on the night she died, didn't you?'
Gina frowned at the whisky in the glass, then suddenly, she shrugged.
'So what does it matter? So I lied,' she said, 'but he didn't kill her. You're not pinning murder on him even if he is dead.'
Terrell sat down. His slight signal alerted Beigler who moved over to the window, sat down and took out his notebook.
'If you're so sure about that, who did kill her?' Terrell asked.
'Oh, a guy,' Gina said. 'He was a nut. I didn't know he had screws loose at first, but it has gradually dawned on me.'
'Just what are you talking about?' Terrell asked, leaning forward. 'Who is this man? What do you know about him?'
'A guy I ran into,' Gina said. She blew out her cheeks and moved a strand of hair off her face.
Terrell could see she was very drunk now.
'Suppose we begin at the beginning? Where do you come in on this?'
'I found the letter and the diary the way you found it,' Gina said, staring glassily at her drink. 'I guessed Lee was having trouble with that bitch, but it wasn't until I found the letter and the diary that I realised she was set to squeeze him dry. I wanted to marry him. I loved him, so I decided to fix her. If he was to spend his money on anyone it was to be me ... certainly not her. One evening when he thought I was out, he called her. I listened in on the extension. They made a date at the Park Motel. He was paying her another five thousand. So I decided to go out there and persuade her to part with the records she had stolen from him.'
She got unsteadily to her feet, weaved across the room, opened a drawer in a closet and took from it a broad bladed hunting knife. She came back and offered it, hilt first, to Terrell.
'I took this along with me. My idea was to knock her out, tie her up and threaten to carve her face to bits. I would have done it too, but I guessed she would part with what she had stolen before I had to start on her.'
Terrell examined the knife. There were dark stains near the hilt. He put it carefully on the bedside table before saying, 'Then what happened?'
'After Lee left the motel, I picked up a U-Drive car. I didn't intend to kill her, but if she wouldn't play, I was ready to go the whole way and I wanted to be sure no one could trace me so I didn't use my own car.'
She paused, wiped her flushed face with the back of her hand and looked over at Beigler.
'Am I going too fast for you?'
'You're doing great,' Beigler said sarcastically.
'Why take a U-Drive car? You'd have to show your licence,' Terrell said.
Gina sneered at him.
'You think I'm that dopey? I stole a handbag off some girl and used her licence. I even bought a blonde wig.' She paused to sip the whisky, then went on, 'I gave Lee half-an- hour's start, then I drove after him. I was within ten miles of the Park Motel, driving slow because I didn't want to run into Lee and besides, I was tight, when a man walked right in front of the car. I stopped fast, but he was close enough for the fender to be touching him, when I did stop.'
She peered at Terrell.
'You don't have to believe any of this. I can't prove it.'
'Keep going,' Terrell said.
'Well, this guy asked for a lift. I said I was going to Ojus and he said that would be fine with him. So he got in. I had had a good look at him in the headlights and he wasn't the kind who would worry me. Anyway, few men worry me. I know how to handle men. But this guy was something special. He was a looker: a real doll.' She paused to sip her whisky, then went on, 'There was something about him that made me want to confide in him. I was drunker than a skunk and weepy. I had to be drunk if I was going to do what I planned to do. Okay. I guessed I talked too much. I told him about Lee. I told him about the Parnell bitch. I told him I had to get these papers from her or kill her. By the time I started shooting my mouth off, we had arrived at the Park Motel. Then he started talking as we sat in the car in the motel's parking lot. He said he would take care of everything. He said he liked me: he was sorry for me: he knew what it was to be in love. He had lots of authority, looks and confidence. I was so goddamn drunk I was glad to listen to him. He said women like Sue Parnell weren't fit to live. He said he would take care of her. On the back seat of the car I had left the knife and a tyre lever. He took them. As he got out of the car, I suddenly got scared. I said I didn't want him to do anything. I could handle it. He smiled at me. "You couldn't fly a kite," he said. By this time the drink was really hitting me. I knew if I got out of the car, I couldn't even stand. I let him go and sat in the car, waiting. After a while he came back and got in the car. He said, "I've fixed it." By this time, I was ready to pass out. I had a pint in the car and I kept hitting it. I felt him push me into the passenger seat, and then I felt the car move. I guess I passed out. The next thing I remember was waking up on the grass verge of the highway. He and the car had disappeared.' She again blew out her cheeks and passed her hand across her face.
'Gee I'm tight. That's all. Lee never killed her. It was this guy.'
'How do you know he killed her?' Terrell asked. 'Hardy could have killed her and this guy you talk about could have walked in and found her.'
'Think so? I say different. When he went into the cabin he was wearing a sports jacket. When he came out, he was carrying the jacket, inside out ... why? He gave me the knife. It was wrapped up in her pants. He said, "You're lucky. I've fixed it. You have no more worries the way I have." I found the knife and her pants in
my handbag the following morning when I got, sober. There was blood in my bag, on the knife and the pants. I put the bag and pants into the basement furnace... he killed her all right.'
'Let's look at it another way,' Terrell said. 'Suppose this, convenient nut never existed? Suppose you went into the cabin and failing to make Sue Parnell part, you killed her. That would be a lot more simple, wouldn't it?'
Gina finished her drink. She sneered at Terrell as she put down her glass.
'That's a cop all over. You hear so many lies, you don't believe the truth when you hear it.'
'I like it better this way. I think you're trying to talk yourself out of a murder rap.'
'That's right. Take it the easy way,' Gina said. 'It would suit you to pin this on me, wouldn't it? You wouldn't have to look further. You wouldn't have to hunt for this boyfriend, would you?'
'For the record,' Terrell said, 'let's have something more about this boyfriend. If you saw him again, would you recognise him?'
'I'd know him anywhere. He was the kind you couldn't help but know again ... a real doll!'
'Let's have something to work on: what was he like: give me a description of him.'
'He was tall, handsome and dark. He had everything. He was sympathetic. He was the kind of man you would tell your frankest secrets to.'
'You said he was a nut. Why do you say that?'
'Of course he was a nut. He wouldn't have gone in there and ripped her unless he was a nut. I provided him with an excuse to kill a woman. I guess I was lucky he didn't kill me.'
Terrell looked at Beigler who lifted his shoulders. Gina's story sounded as corny to him as it did to Terrell.
'I still think Hardy could have done it and you're drunk enough to dream up this story.'
Terrell said. 'But you'll come to headquarters and we'll work all this over. Come on ... let's go.'
Gina grimaced.
'My road stopped when Lee died,' she said. 'I've had all I want from life and it hasn't been all that hot. Lee didn't kill her. Can't you get that fact into your thick skull? It was this nut who did it.'
'We'll go over it again at headquarters. Let's go,' Terrell said, getting to his feet.
Gina shrugged and stood up.
'Excuse me while I spend a dime,' she said. 'My back teeth are floating.' She walked unsteadily across the bedroom and into the bathroom. As she shut the door, Terrell said, 'What do you make of this story, Joe?'
'She's lying,' Beigler said. 'It's my bet ...'
The violent bang of a gun, coming from the bathroom made both men start to their feet. As one, they rushed to the bathroom door. Beigler drove his massive shoulder against the panel and burst in.
Gina lay face down on the floor, a smoking gun in her hand. Her brains made a white and red stain on the bathroom tiles.
***
As Terrell came in from a quick lunch, he met Beigler looking hot and irritable, getting out of his car. The two men walked fast up the steps into police headquarters.
'How's it coming?' Terrell asked as he led the way to his office.
'Got something,' Beigler said. He entered the office and lowered his heavy frame on to one of the upright chairs. Terrell went behind his desk and sat down. He poured coffee from the flask.
'Go ahead.'
'The day before the murder, a woman, Ann Lucas, reported her handbag stolen. That afternoon, a woman calling herself Ann Lucas hired a car from the U-Drive Depot for five days. The guy who handled the deal wouldn't know her again without the sun goggles and the scarf she was wearing. It's my bet this woman was Gina Lang.'
Terrell rubbed the end of his nose with the butt of his pen.
'So she wasn't lying.'
'That's it, but here's something you're going to love,' Beigler said. 'Sam Karsh turned up at the U-Drive joint two days after the murder. He told them he had found one of their cars ... the car rented by Ann Lucas or Gina Lang dumped in a clearing on a dirt road off the North Miami Beach highway. He told Morphy ... he's the manager of the joint... he had found the car and thought it had been dumped. He asked questions, got a description of this Ann Lucas or Gina Lang and then faded away. I've contacted Ann Lucas. She tells me that on the night Karsh contacted Morphy, she got a mysterious telephone call from a guy who questioned her about the loss of her driving licence. After she had admitted losing her licence and as soon as she began questioning him, he hung up. That could have been Karsh.'
Terrell said, 'What are we waiting for. Let's get Karsh here.'
Beigler grinned.
'Jacobs is already picking him up. He loves Karsh.'
'Okay Joe, nice work. I want to think about all this. When Karsh arrives let him sweat it out. I may not be ready for him for an hour.'
When Beigler had gone, Terrell sat for some time thinking, then he abruptly reached forward and flicked down a switch on the intercom.
'I want the file covering Chris Burnett's disappearance,' he said.
When an officer brought in the file, Terrell studied it. Then he took a large scale map of the district from his desk drawer and studied that.
The intercom came to life.
'We have Karsh here, Chief,' a voice said.
'Let him stew. I'm not ready for him yet.'
Terrell sat for another half-hour going over the file, making notes, studying the map, then he called for Beigler.
Beigler came in, sat down and lit a cigarette. He looked at expectantly at Terrell.
'This could be a sweet one,' Terrell said, pushing back his chair and crossing his legs. 'I'm getting persuaded that Chris Burnett killed Sue Parnell.'
Beigler sucked his cigarette, his eyes widening.
'You tell it,' he said.
'We know Burnett is a nut. Gina Lang claims to have picked up a nut who was tall, dark and handsome. That description fits Burnett. The time he was missing and the time she picked him up also jells. He was picked up by our men about a mile from where Morphy claims the U-Drive car was dumped. We know Karsh found the car. We know Burnett wore a jacket when he left the hotel and it was missing when he was found. It's my bet Karsh found the jacket in the car and there was blood on it. You don't rip a woman the way Parnell was ripped without getting messy. It looks to me that Karsh took the jacket to Hare who promptly put the bite on Mrs. Burnett. This would explain why she parted with twenty thousand dollars. Why else should she give him that amount of money unless he had her where he wanted her?'
Beigler whistled.
'Can we prove any of this, Chief?'
'Not yet, but we'll have Karsh in and we'll sweat him until he does talk.'
'But suppose he doesn't?'
The telephone bell interrupted what Terrell was about to say. He lifted the receiver.
'Thresby here,' the manager of the Florida Banking Corporation said. 'I thought you would be interested. This morning, Mrs. Burnett paid the twenty thousand dollars back into her account ... the money we thought was blackmail money.'
Terrell scowled and ran his fingers through his greying hair.
'The same numbers?'
'Yes. She paid in the exact bills we issued to her.'
'Thanks. I don't know what it means, but it looks as if we've got off to a false start.'
'That's what I think. Suppose we forget it? A man like Travers ... you know what I mean.'
'Yeah. Okay. Henry, be seeing you and thanks for calling.' Terrell hung up.
'So what now?' Beigler asked.
'Mrs. Burnett paid the money she gave to Hare back into her account ... so that let's Hare out. Now, why in hell, did she do that? How did she manage to get the money away from Hare?'
'Do we still talk to Karsh?'
Terrell hesitated.
'We haven't a thing to go on. We can't bring a charge against Hare for blackmail now. If we start something we can't finish with Burnett, we'll have Travers on our necks. Don't let's rush this.'
He picked up his pen and began to make holes in his blotter with it.
'Has the U-
Drive car been checked for prints?'
'Sure ... it's been wiped clean. No prints.'
'If we could find Burnett's prints in the motel cabin we would be getting somewhere. Did you check the knife for prints?'
'Only the Lang woman's and yours.'
'Send Jacobs to Gustave's sanatorium right away. Tell him to see Gustave and get Gustave to give him something Burnett has handled. Then get Hess to check through his list of prints in the cabin and see if Burnett was there.'
Beigler left the office. Terrell kept making holes in his blotter until Beigler returned.
'He's on his way. How about Karsh?'
'Yeah. Let's talk to the creep. Maybe he'll open up.'
'Maybe: the same way as he'll join the Salvation Army.' Beigler said.
Karsh was brought in. He was pale, worried and jumpy.
Terrell asked him about the U-Drive car.
'So what's it to you?' Karsh demanded indignantly. 'I'm getting sick of the way you cops keep shoving me around. I happened to be driving in the district and I found the car. I told this jerk it looked as if it were dumped. Can't I do another guy a good turn without you stamping all over me?'
'How did you find it?'
'I tell you ... I was driving around. The frigging car was dumped. I was curious ... it's my nature to be curious ... so I checked the tag, found it belonged to the U-Drive outfit and as I was passing, I dropped in and told them. I was doing them a good turn.'
'Imagine you doing anyone a good turn,' Beigler sneered. 'If you think we believe a yarn like that, you need your head examined.'
'Okay, so I need my head examined.'
'What did you find in the car, Karsh?' Terrell demanded, leaning across the desk and glaring at Karsh.
'What do you mean? I didn't find a goddamn thing!'
'I think you did. You found a sports jacket with blood on it!'
Karsh was too wily a bird to be caught with that one. Although sweat began to appear on his narrow forehead, he went through the act of looking amazed.
'Blood? Jacket? Look, Chief, honest to God I don't know what you're talking about!'
'There was a blood-stained jacket in the back of that car and you found it!'
1964 - The Soft Centre Page 17
