by J A Whiting
Cole took a seat on the sofa sitting straight and looking uncomfortable. “This is a pretty house.” He glanced around the room, his eyes passing over the fireplace, the furniture, and to the glass French doors leading to the sunroom. “I knew Professor Linden. I did some work on her car a few times. She was a nice lady. I heard she left the house to you.”
“She did. I was certainly surprised and I’m forever grateful. My sisters and I live here. Can I get you a drink or some dessert? There are cupcakes and a custard pie.”
“Oh, no thanks. I’ll only stay a minute.” He looked to the room’s threshold. “You have cats.” Cole brightened when he saw Euclid and Circe strolling into the room. “I have two cats, myself.”
Unsure about what the man wanted, Euclid wore a scowl, but his expression softened when he heard what the man said about having cats of his own. Circe jumped up next to Cole and sat beside him while he stroked her cheeks.
“I think you’ve won them over.” Angie smiled waiting to hear why the man had come to the Victorian.
“So.” Cole looked over at Angie. She could feel the nervousness coming off of him. “I saw Ron the other day. You met him at Leon’s ranch house when he was there to give Elise an estimate for clearing out the garage.”
Angie nodded. “He and I talked for a little while.”
Cole took in a deep breath. “I knew Leon for a long time.”
Angie nodded again to encourage the man to go on.
“Leon would come over to my shop some nights after I closed and we’d have a beer, talk cars, shoot the breeze. Leon loved cars.”
Not wanting to interrupt his train of thought, Angie sat quietly hoping he’d tell her why he had come before his nervousness overcame him.
“Leon was a loner, really. He didn’t hang out with anyone, he just worked at his plumbing business, fixed up his houses. His sister was in Boston. They didn’t see each other much.” Cole swallowed. “Leon wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree, if you know what I mean.” He eyed Angie. “He was slower than most people. He was a good guy, shy, stayed to himself.” Cole scratched Circe’s cheeks and she purred. “I liked the guy. He knew a ton about cars. He had that old Pontiac that he wanted to restore.” Cole stopped, realizing why Leon never did restore the car.
Angie wasn’t sure what to say. “I saw it.” After the words were out of her mouth, she cringed at her useless comment.
“After I talked to Ron and he told me you were asking questions about Leon, I decided to drop by. Ron said you were nice.”
“Did he?” Angie smiled.
Cole leaned forward and looked down as he wrung his hands between his knees.
“You want to talk about Leon?” Angie asked gently.
Cole gave a nod without looking up. “Something about Leon dying bothers me.” He made eye contact with Angie. “Not just because I considered him a friend. It’s not that. It’s….”
“Is it because of the body in his garage?”
“No. Well, yeah, but it’s not the reason you think.” Cole nervously ran his hand over his hair. “Leon wouldn’t hurt a fly. He didn’t kill that guy. I’d bet my life on it.”
Angie thought about all the people she’d seen interviewed on the news when something bad happened … all the people who expressed dismay or disbelief when a neighbor or coworker committed a crime. “There’s no way he could have done that,” they all said. “He was quiet, gentle, he would never do anything like that.” Some people were very good at hiding their true selves.
“I came here to ask you what you think. Should I tell the police that I don’t think Leon killed that guy?”
Angie said, “People can act in unexpected ways if they feel threatened or anxious or upset. Could Leon have been in a situation where he might have felt the need to fight back? Did he have any enemies? Did he feel worried about anything?”
“I can’t see Leon fighting anyone.” Cole shook his head. “I can’t believe he had any enemies.” The man leaned against the sofa back. “A change came over Leon a few years ago. I wouldn’t call it worry. He seemed more distant, quieter. He didn’t seem as interested in cars anymore.” Cole looked across the room, thinking. “After he died, I chalked up his, I don’t know, maybe you’d call it depression, to his health taking a turn. He never complained, but maybe he wasn’t feeling so good from his heart problems and he was feeling down. I heard it was a heart attack that killed him.”
Angie used a soft voice when she asked, “Could Leon’s depression have stemmed from killing Mr. Marsten? Maybe it was an accident and Leon didn’t know what to do.”
Cole seemed to consider the possibility for a few moments and then shook his head. “Like I said, Leon was gentle, he could come off gruff and could seem rude, but he would not hurt a fly.” Cole said each word in a louder voice to emphasize the point. “If Leon made a mistake so bad that he ended up taking someone’s life, I don’t think he could have held it together. It would have killed him. He would have told me what he’d done. Leon believed in God. He was loyal as they come. He was a good person. Now everyone thinks he’s a murderer. It ain’t right.”
Angie’s head was spinning. Did Leon kill Milton Marsten and keep the body in his garage because he didn’t know what to do? Did Leon act in self-defense? But why would Marsten threaten Leon? What in the world happened?
“Have you talked to Leon’s sister?” Angie asked. “Did you tell her your concerns?”
“Nah. Elise is never around … she lives in Boston. She’s a lawyer, you know. I never met her. Leon said she was kind of stuck up.”
“Leon and Elise weren’t close?” Angie asked. “Do you think Leon would confide in Elise?”
“I’d be surprised if he did. Elise was a few years younger. Leon told me his sister was bossy, was always telling him what to do. I’m sure she was just making sure everything was okay with him, trying to keep an eye on him, but Leon saw it as pushy. Leon did good on his own. He had some trouble with numbers, but he hired a bookkeeper for his business. He was aware of his weaknesses.”
“When I met the man who is being hired to clean out the garage, Ron, he told me he was surprised that Leon retired so early. He said Leon had been retired from his plumbing business for about ten or fifteen years. How did Leon afford to stop working so young? He must have been what, forty-five, fifty when he retired?”
“I asked Leon the same questions,” Cole said. “I was worried he was making a mistake. Like I said, he was no good with numbers so I wondered if he tried to calculate how much money he needed for retirement and made a mistake. Leon got grumpy. He said he had plenty of money and not to be a pain asking him questions about it. He said he knew what he was doing.” Circe curled up on Cole’s lap and the man adjusted his position to accommodate the sweet cat. “I worried Leon would get bored just hanging around all the time. Structure was good for him. When I brought that up, he barked at me and told me again that he knew what he was doing. I left it alone after that. After he sold his business, Leon worked on his rental houses and seemed busy enough so I didn’t worry.” Cole let out a sigh. “I miss the guy. We were friends for a long time.”
“I’m sorry about what’s happened,” Angie said. “I’m sure it would make Leon happy to know that you’re defending him and that you want people to know he was a good person. You’re a good friend.”
Euclid trilled from his spot on the chair next to the fireplace.
Cole looked over at the big orange boy and smiled before turning back to Angie. “Thanks, but what do I do? Leon didn’t kill that guy. I’d stake my life on that. After the news about the body came out, I made a promise to myself … and to Leon, that I would make sure people knew he was innocent. But, how do I get the police to look for the real killer? Should I go tell them what I just told you?”
Angie thought over everything she’d heard. “Do you want to talk to the police right now?”
Cole blinked. “Yeah, but there wouldn’t be anyone to talk to at the station at this time
of night. The detectives and the police chief must have all left by now.”
Jenna poked her head into the living room. “Everything okay?”
Angie nodded. “This man is a friend of Leon Drapper. He says Leon is innocent. Would you ask Chief Martin to come in and talk to us?”
Jenna nodded and headed away to get the chief.
“The chief is here?” A look of surprise flashed over Cole’s face.
“He’s a friend of ours. I think he’d be interested in what you have to say.” Angie asked Cole a difficult question. “Do you think Leon knew the body was in his garage?”
Cole hesitated and then said, “I can’t believe he knew about the body and didn’t say anything.” Lines of concern formed over his forehead. “Unless….”
“Unless what?” Angie asked.
“Unless someone scared the heck out of Leon to stay silent.”
20
As the police car approached the Sweet Cove resort, Jenna looked over the beautiful grounds to where her Nana’s cottage once stood and let out a sigh. “I wish Mom and Nana were here to see me get married.”
Angie shifted in the front seat to look back at her sister. “They’re here in spirit.”
Jenna gave a weak smile. “I’m feeling overwhelmed at the moment.”
“I know.” Angie nodded wishing she could reach over the back of the seat to give Jenna a hug. “The wedding plans are in order. We’re all here to help. Tom’s a great a guy. It’s all good.”
“Tom’s the best guy in the whole world.” Jenna caught Chief Martin’s quick glance at her from the rear view mirror. “Present company excluded, of course, Chief.”
“Let’s say Tom is one of the best guys in the world,” Angie suggested.
“I can agree to that statement,” Chief Martin said with a smile.
Jenna, Angie, and the chief were on their way to the resort for an interview with Mrs. Smith-Higgins, the wife of the man who was Milton Marsten’s childhood friend. The wealthy Mrs. Smith-Higgins did not have any desire to set foot into a dingy police station so she requested that the meeting take place in her resort suite.
Walking to the woman’s exclusive cottage, Chief Martin told the sisters what he knew. “A smart woman, educated at Yale, a graduate of Dartmouth’s Amos Tuck business school. Mrs. Smith-Higgins, she doesn’t use his name actually, she goes by Julia Belton, is from a wealthy family with lots of connections in business and politics. She started a consulting company when she was in her late twenties and it’s grown into a multi-national corporation. She married her husband when she was in her forties, no kids. Mr. Smith-Higgins is known to be a philanderer. It didn’t go over well with his wife.” The chief stopped in front of one of the cottages set back from the brick walkway and surrounded by lush plants and trees for maximum privacy. “Here we are.”
A tall, slender woman in her fifties opened the door. Wearing a slim-cut skirt and a silk blouse, Julia Belton had short, stylishly cut blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. “Chief Martin, I assume.” She stepped back to admit the three visitors and eyed the two young women.
Chief Martin made introductions and they took seats on the white sofas set around the fireplace. Angie always wondered how the resort kept the white furniture looking so pristine.
“As you know, Ms. Belton,” the chief began, “we’re investigating the death of Milton Marsten, a close childhood friend of your husband.”
“Call me Julia. I never met the man.” The woman leaned back in her chair giving off an air of confidence and authority. “John never mentioned him.”
“Did your husband talk much about his boyhood?” the chief asked.
“He didn’t. John preferred to focus on the future.” A cloud descended over the woman’s face and she scoffed. “You see what that did for him.”
“We heard that your husband is no longer in the country,” Angie commented. “Do you know when he left?”
“About six years ago.” Julia placed her hands lightly on the arms of her chair, giving the impression of a queen relaxing on her throne. “I understand John left around the same time that Milton Marsten went missing.”
“That’s right,” the chief said.
Julia tapped her manicured index finger against the fabric of the chair. “The theory is that John contacted his old friend and the man disappeared shortly after arriving in the area?”
Chief Martin nodded.
“Why do you suspect John? Anything could have happened to Mr. Marsten.”
Jenna said, “Mr. Marsten was supposed to meet your husband here at the resort for dinner. We don’t know if he met him or not, but indications suggest that Marsten went missing that night.”
“Perhaps the man left the area and returned to his home.”
“That’s unlikely,” Angie told the woman. “Especially since Mr. Marsten’s body was found in a garage not far from here.”
“It is also unlikely that you are ever going to find out if John was responsible.” Julia seemed to be becoming agitated. “He’s long gone and he won’t be returning.”
“What was going on at the time John called Mr. Marsten?” Angie asked.
Julia scrunched up her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“We’re trying to understand why John called Marsten.” Angie thought the woman was deliberately being uncooperative. “It had been nearly forty years since they’d parted ways. What would make John call on his old friend?”
Julia chuckled. “John was running a scheme … a very fruitful one, but still a scheme. He made millions conning people. Perhaps, John was trying to find a way out of his mess so he contacted Marsten. If the man was an old friend, maybe John thought he could confide in him. He certainly wouldn’t want to alert anyone he was working with at the time in case they reported him to the authorities. John had a formal, charming, professional veneer, but underneath it all, he was nothing but a low-life con man.”
Jenna asked, “What was your relationship like?”
Julia’s face took on a momentary look of surprise, but she quickly composed herself. “Initially, John conned me, too. I enjoyed being with him, we had things in common, he was attentive, interested in my career.” Folding her hands in her lap, she went on. “It was all a façade. John wanted to use my corporation to launder his pyramid scheme money, that’s why he had such a strong interest in me. Ha. I’m ashamed to say I fell for it. I didn’t fully figure it out until just before he ran away, but I was suspicious for some time prior to that.” Julia reached for the cut-glass goblet on the table next to her and sipped. “John attempted to make it look like I was the one running the scheme. Me. He was falsifying documents so that it appeared to be me who was the conman. I think he planned it from the moment we met. He needed my large, international company to move the illegal money through.” Julia’s knuckles had turned white from the clenching grip of her hands.
“What did you do when you figured out John’s motive?” Angie questioned. The fury and agitation coming off of Julia made Angie’s heart pound.
“I made a promise to myself. I wouldn’t allow John to destroy me, my reputation, or my company. He wasn’t going to ruin what I’d worked so hard to build.” Julia cleared her throat. “I started to collect information on John’s activities. I managed to put together quite a dossier against him.”
“Were you still together during this time?” Jenna’s face seemed pale.
Julia’s lips pressed tightly together. “We didn’t spend much time together. I was in Boston most of the time and John was usually in New York.”
Chief Martin was pleased with the Roseland sisters’ line of questioning and was content to remain quiet and let them handle the interview.
Angie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “If you and John weren’t together often, how did you collect so much confidential information on what he was doing?”
Julia sat straighter and leaned forward taking offense at Angie’s question. “Do you think I’m making this up?”
Angie uncon
sciously pressed back against her seat in reaction to Julia’s aggression. “That didn’t cross my mind. I only wondered how you managed.”
Julia’s shoulder muscles seemed to relax a little. “I have a couple of confidants in John’s company.”
“They fed you the information?” Jenna asked.
“They did. I will not name them … not under any circumstances.”
If the Ponzi scheme caused the players to appear in a court case sometime in the future, the chief knew that it might be necessary for Julia to name her contacts unless she was willing to be held in contempt of court, but he decided that staying quiet on the matter was in their best interests.
“In light of what was going on,” Angie said, “could you speculate on the reason why John called on Milton Marsten? Do you think he suspected that you were on to him?”
“John didn’t know what I was doing.” Julia took a deep breath. “I believe he was planning to divorce me. He’d done what he needed to … at least, that was what he thought. John didn’t think he needed me or my company anymore. Actually, I believe John recognized that time was running out and the authorities were preparing to arrest him. It was time to cut ties and run.”
“Was John acting desperate?” Jenna tried to sit as straight as Julia. “Was he losing his cool? Did you interact with him at the time?”
“I saw him a few days before he took off.” Julia’s face flushed with anger, but the corners of her lips turned up. “He wasn’t his usual cool, calm self. He was sweating, twitchy. His eyes darted around. It seemed like he was high. Desperate?” She nodded. “I might use that word to describe his behavior.”
Jenna made eye contact with the businesswoman. “I’ve been wondering this whole time … where is all the money John stole?”
Julia’s eyebrows shot up. “We weren’t able to figure that out. My guess would be somewhere in the Cayman’s.” She shot the chief a look. “Law enforcement can figure that out. I spent enough of my time gathering information on that monster. You can be sure the money is somewhere within John’s easy reach.”
