"Should be worried about what they did," Hammer said.
Elizabeth pointed her donut at him. "Allegedly." She looked at Calderone. "So, it'll take a while to get a public defender attorney sent over."
"Yeah. I'll make a call from the break room so I'm not talking about it out here in front of God and everybody. Public Defender's Office doesn't usually get that much business from us." He turned toward the hallway.
"Hop to it." Elizabeth turned to Hammer. "I'm going home to change, since I'm still in yesterday's clothes and we can't talk to Jenson and Gibson for a while. Be back in an hour."
"We'll need to feed them, eventually," Hammer said.
"Sub shop delivers free." Elizabeth took a twenty from her pocket. "Get a receipt. I'll pay for theirs and get reimbursed."
She was in her car and halfway down the street before she remembered Skelly hadn't told her more about Stanley than the fingernail swabbing. She started to call him, and then figured he'd call when whoever he was dealing with left his office.
FEELING MORE HUMAN AFTER a quick shower and change of clothes, Elizabeth put out soft food for her cat. The tortoise shell had subsisted on hard food for two days and was quite peeved about it.
"I know you feel better when you try to swat me."
The cat acknowledged with one swish of her tail, without looking up from the bowl of food.
"I'll tell you what, I'll be alone in the station on Christmas. You can come to work with me."
Two tail swishes.
Elizabeth left the cat in the kitchen, and vowed to come up with a name for it by the end of the holiday week.
She kept her windshield wipers on during the ride back to the station. The precipitation was more like a heavy mist than freezing rain, but it still bunged up the wipers.
Despite the weather, cars almost clogged the streets near the town square. She guessed that people who might have finished their Christmas shopping at a mall a few miles away had decided to stay in town to shop. One good thing about the bad weather.
Elizabeth parked in front of the station and stomped on the large mat just inside the door. "Everybody awake?"
"Funny," Hammer said. "I fed the guys. Lawyers from the Office of Public Defender are with them."
She unwrapped her scarf and walked into the bullpen. "For how long?"
"Maybe half-an-hour. Came pretty quickly, especially this close to Christmas. I figured they'd have people on leave."
Calderone looked up from where he'd been typing something into his computer. "Clancy came by to pick up his watch and the few bucks he had in his pockets. I told him any funny business and we'd hand him over to the county."
"I think the judge held the bail hearing so quickly because it's just before Christmas."
Calderone grinned. "You mean maybe he's really a softie and felt sorry for Clancy?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "Hard to imagine Judge Kemper being soft on anyone. Come on back to my office. I want to figure out how we're going to handle questions with those two."
"You going to talk to them together?" Hammer asked.
Elizabeth stopped. "I think for a few minutes. That'll help us pick apart their stories when we then split them up. You think that's a good idea?"
Hammer moved his head from side to side, a seeming thinking posture. "Probably good."
"Yeah," Calderone said. "We can ask for details and compare what they say."
Elizabeth started for her office again and paused. "How many lawyers?"
Hammer smiled. "Two."
"Good. I bet they'll be sorry they have to deal with these guys."
She and Calderone entered her office and Elizabeth hung her coat on its rack. He settled across from her desk, and she sat behind it.
"Thoughts?" she asked.
"I think we can ask them to describe the afternoon in the laundry. See what they bring up about Clancy, if anything, and ask why they didn't call for an ambulance. Act as if we get what they're saying, then split them up to ask twenty more detailed questions."
Elizabeth nodded. "I like the way you think. My guess is they'll bury themselves quickly, unless their lawyers tell them to say nothing."
Down the hall, the door to the conference room opened. Elizabeth walked into the hallway, and raised a hand to a woman she didn't know who had entered the hall and closed the conference room door behind her. "Do you need something like a rest room, or would you like to talk?"
"The latter, please." She approached Elizabeth and held out a hand. "Catherine Ryan, assistant public defender."
Elizabeth shook and gestured to her office. "I think you've met Officer Tony Calderone. We'll handle questioning together. Before we sit, would you like coffee?"
"I'd love a glass of water."
Hammer appeared at the doorway. "I'll grab some bottles from the fridge in the break room." He turned in that direction.
"You met Sergeant Hammer, didn't you?"
"Yes, and he pointed out what's where for us. Thanks."
Calderone stood to shake her hand, and the attorney sat next to him.
"May I call you Catherine?" Elizabeth asked.
"That's my mother's name, too, so I've always gone by Ryan."
Elizabeth sat. "Done. My guess is you want to discuss how we'll handle questioning."
A tall woman, Ryan crossed her legs and leaned back in the wood chair. "Do you plan to question them separately or together?"
"We thought we'd let them tell us the basics together and then split them, though we can separate them from the get go."
Hammer placed four water bottles on the desk. Ryan drew a breath and focused on the clock on the wall behind Elizabeth before answering. "They're pretty rattled, so together would be good."
"For a start," Calderone said.
Ryan smiled. "Get the basics and then see if they say the same things separately?"
Elizabeth did not smile. "More or less. If they're telling the truth, shouldn't be more than slight discrepancies."
Ryan nodded. "We spoke to Max Henderson. He said you're a pretty straight shooter."
Elizabeth wanted to ask her if he had relayed Clancy's narrative. "Do you have some sort of joint defense arrangement between these two and Mr. Clancy?"
Ryan shook her head. "Not discussed. Doubt it would be. We've also suggested to Messrs. Gibson and Jenson that they use us separately."
Elizabeth figured the lack of a joint defense agreement made it less likely that Henderson had offered substantive information about what Clancy said. She liked that, and looked at Calderone. "You ready to get started?"
"Sure, Chief."
Elizabeth turned to Ryan. "Who is your colleague?"
"Norman Zakorsky. If we separate, he'll go with Mr. Jenson and I'll handle Gibson."
"Okay. Let us know what you need before we start questioning."
Neither Elizabeth or Calderone said anything until the conference room door shut behind Ryan. Calderone raised his eyebrows at Elizabeth. "Why didn't she want us to question them together the whole time?"
"Each man will have his own attorney. My guess is the lawyers will play our two brilliant scholars against each other."
Calderone stood. "My guess is brilliance won't come into it."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
AS ELIZABETH AND CALDERONE WAITED in her office, she buzzed Hammer. "Can you bring me Louella Belle's hat? It's in the evidence locker."
He sounded surprised. "Sure."
"What do you want that for?" Calderone asked.
"I want those two to remember they killed a real person."
"So, the hat is kind of a tear jerker?"
Hammer walked in with the hat in its plastic evidence bag. "A tear-jerker hat?"
Elizabeth took it. "I'm hoping it'll make them really, really nervous."
The conference room smelled faintly of the cold-cut sandwiches Hammer had provided the two men, and more strongly of body odor. The kind Elizabeth associated with nervous sweat.
Ryan and Zakor
sky sat next to their clients, with Zakorsky between Gibson and Jenson. Elizabeth wondered if the arrangement was meant to prevent the two suspects from talking directly to one another during questioning.
Elizabeth placed the hat on a small credenza behind the conference table. Ryan and Zakorsky ignored it. Gibson and Jenson seemed transfixed by its appearance.
"Before we start," Ryan said, "let's be clear that Mr. Jenson and Mr. Gibson are here voluntarily, with the intention of providing closure for this unfortunate incident."
Unfortunate incident? Elizabeth thought the euphemism was the definition of minimization.
Zakorsky added, "They believe they can speed the investigation, and I hope you'll consider their cooperation."
Elizabeth stared at Zakorsky. "As you know, I don't determine whether to press any charges, but I do let the Office of State's Attorney know who was helpful to us."
All four heads across from her nodded.
Elizabeth looked from one suspect to the other. "Gentlemen, I appreciate that you signed forms with Sergeant Hammer agreeing to tape this interview." She pressed record on the ancient taping equipment. "I thought we could begin with your description of what happened in the laundromat five nights ago."
"Don't you ask us questions?" Herbie Hiccup Gibson asked.
"Okay, please start by telling us what time you got to the laundromat and what ensued that evening."
When Just Juice 'Erasmus' Jenson looked toward Gibson, Zakorsky sat forward a little, so he blocked direct eye contact.
"Mr. Jenson?" Elizabeth asked.
"We, uh, had three baskets of dirty clothes."
"And some sheets," Herbie said.
Jenson looked at the hat, then back at Elizabeth, and nodded. "So, we put 'em all in the washers, and transferred them to a couple of dryers."
"You don’t need as many dryers as washers," Herbie added.
"About what time was this?" Calderone asked.
"We got there, maybe four o'clock," Jenson said. "I didn't look at my watch, or my phone, so I can't say exactly when we walked in."
When he didn't continue, Elizabeth said, "Go on."
"So, um, Miz Simpson came in maybe half-an-hour later."
"Right after we started the dryers," Herbie said. "We had just sat down to wait for stuff to dry."
"Did she speak to you?" Calderone asked.
Jenson grunted. "She didn't…I mean, she always spoke when she saw you."
"Keep going," Elizabeth said. "Tell us what you talked about, what part of the room you were in."
Herbie Gibson looked sideways, at Ryan, then back at Elizabeth. "So, she mostly talked. Whenever she saw us she said we, uh, needed to lose weight."
"She said it more insulting though," Jenson said. "Always called me Tubby, and she called Herbie Mister Fatso."
"And how did you respond?" Calderone asked.
"We usually can walk away and don't say anything. But we had our clothes there," Herbie said. "So we walked to the back, by the big laundry sink." He looked for a moment as if he would be sick, but then sat up straighter.
"Anyway," Jenson said, "she walked around the place for a couple of minutes. Looked behind the trash cans, under tables. Stuff like that."
"Did she pick up anything?" Elizabeth asked.
Both men shook their heads. "No, just looked. She's always kind of…nosy," Herbie said.
When they stopped talking, Calderone said, "Go on."
"So, she comes back to us," Jenson said. "And she starts saying what lousy parents we must have. Like they gave us too much junk food. Other insulting stuff."
"We kind of moved toward the wall, by the tub." Herbie said. "Couldn't really get too far away from her."
"And then," Jenson's voice weakened, "she came up to me and stuck her finger in my chest, and said she knew who my mother was, she'd seen her with me in the diner one time. You know, sometimes my parents came to college to visit."
Herbie said, "See, she provoked him, and…"
Ryan spoke firmly. "Mr. Gibson. Let him finish."
"She said…she said, my mother was a fat pig, just like me." Jenson looked at the table, then back at Elizabeth. When his head came up, tears had welled in his eyes. "I…I love my mother."
No one said anything. Elizabeth thought the body odor smell increased.
Jenson whispered, "I, I didn't think. I reached my hands out, and I shoved her."
After a few seconds of silence, Elizabeth said, "And then what?"
Zakorsky interrupted. "I believe my client has made it clear that he had no intention of harming Ms. Simpson."
"Actually, he hasn't," Elizabeth said. "Why don't you let him continue?"
Zakorsky reddened, and nodded at Jenson.
"I know I shouldn't have shoved her. See, my mother has diabetes. She isn't a fat pig."
Elizabeth nodded, but said nothing.
"Miz Simpson kind of leaned backwards, and then when she was straightening back up, I guess there was water on the floor. Her foot, um, I guess her right one, went up and she fell back."
"We both reached for her," Herbie said. "But we didn't catch her in time."
Jenson whispered, "It wasn't a loud sound, but it was awful. Like a crunch. And she just, she slid down the front of the laundry sink thing." He put one hand over his eyes and brushed aside a couple of tears.
Jenson drew a deep breath. "We went right over to her. I yelled, I think. Her name. I wanted her to open her eyes."
Calderone looked at Herbie Gibson. "What did you do?"
"I didn't know what to do. I started to touch her a couple of times, then I pulled my hand back. I didn't know if I should."
Elizabeth remembered Clancy saying one of the men had been flapping his hands. "Was anyone else in the laundromat at that time?"
Herbie sat up straighter. "That's right when Finn Clancy came in."
Jenson nodded. "The door opened. The alley door. Big draft."
"He said, 'Jesus, what the F did you do?' Real loud," Herbie said. "You, uh, know what the F means, right?"
Elizabeth nodded, saying nothing.
"And then?" Calderone asked.
"Clancy, he comes over, and he puts his fingers on her neck," Jenson began.
"Like on TV," Herbie said.
"And I don't think he felt a pulse, because he says, 'are you out of your effing minds? She's an old lady.' And then he was kind of quiet." Jenson drew a deep breath. "And none of us said anything for maybe twenty seconds. I don't really know how long."
Zakorsky said, "At that time, my client believed that Ms. Simpson was deceased."
Elizabeth nodded. "I suppose my biggest question is why didn't you dial 9-1-1 at that point?"
Both men nodded, and in tandem said, "We should have."
"So why not?" Calderone asked.
"I guess you could say Finn Clancy took charge," Herbie said. "Sitting here, being all logical, it seems…crazy. Why did we listen to him? I mean, I guess it was the shock of the whole thing. I, uh, does she have kids or anything? We could apologize."
Elizabeth stopped herself from asking if they thought that would really help. "And what do you mean about Mr. Clancy taking charge?"
Jenson hung his head as he spoke. "He said he could help us figure out what to do. You know, so no one would ever know we…I pushed her."
With far more emotion than Finn Clancy had shown, Just Juice Jenson and Herbie Hiccup Gibson described filling the laundry tub and lifting Louella Belle from the floor. They placed her head and shoulders in the sink.
"But, she didn't react," Herbie said.
"She was dead. I mean, really dead," Jenson said.
In a clipped tone, Calderone asked, "And then what?"
"So, we pushed her over to the dryer. The one that had dry clothes in it."
It took several minutes for Herbie and Just Juice to describe how they decided to use a laundry cart to move her. All three men loaded her in the dryer, with Clancy having the idea to put the checkered tablecloth o
ver her face.
"And all this time, no one else came in?" Elizabeth asked.
They shook their heads, and Herbie said, "The stores around were closed. I mean, the diner was open, I guess. But you know, when it's cold, the windows over there are foggy."
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders. She'd noticed that many times. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier?
"Clancy was with you all this time?" Calderone asked.
Herbie, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for a minute, said, "Actually, that's when he left. When we got her in the dryer."
"And you?" Elizabeth asked.
Jenson said, "Our clothes were pretty much dry, so we used a couple towels to wipe the floor. And us."
No one said anything for several seconds, until Elizabeth said, "I think you might have left out one part."
Zakorsky stirred, and Elizabeth held up one hand, palm in his direction. "Did Finn Clancy help you from the goodness of his heart?"
Herbie snorted. "Not hardly. He wanted five hundred dollars. We said we'd pay it."
Jenson nodded. "We went to the bank the next morning and used our debit and credit cards to get it."
Five hundred dollars. The price of covering up a senseless killing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ELIZABETH AND CALDERONE LEFT the seemingly sorrowful killers with their lawyers about two PM and returned to her office. She shut the door. "If they had called 9-1-1 the heaviest charge could have been involuntary manslaughter."
Calderone shrugged. "Better for them, but Louella Belle would still be dead."
"Of course." She picked up her phone and buzzed Hammer. "They told us pretty much the same story as Clancy, in terms of hiding her body."
"So how did her neck get broken?" Hammer asked.
"Jenson pushed her after Louella Belle called his mother a fat pig. They're going to talk to their lawyers for a few minutes, then we'll split them up."
"Gotcha," Hammer said. "Can I tell the others?"
"For now, just say that their version coincided with Clancy's. I don't want a lot of discussion."
"Speaking of discussion, Jerry Pew called. He knows Clancy's out, and wants to know why two public defenders are over here on a Saturday."
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