“The name rang a bell, and I just checked the sales records for the Waterfront Palace. A unit downstairs was bought a month ago, in the housekeeper’s name, and occupied immediately. That’s why the name sounded familiar. It was a cash sale, which is unusual in itself. I guess we just need to see if it’s the same person.”
Luke spoke up. “If it is, it sounds like Angelo’s moved here for a reason. I’ll ask Rob to look into it immediately.”
“Thanks,” Mario said. He cocked his ear towards the penthouse. “I think I hear Kitten. Do you want to have a word with her now that she’s awake?”
Al stood up, signaling to Luke to do the same. “No, Mario, we’ll give you some privacy. If ya’ need me, jes’ holler. Ima only a few floors down.”
“Thanks, Al.” Mario smiled. “But I’ll probably just use the phone.”
CHAPTER 13
Kitten was standing in the kitchen in her nightgown and pouring a glass of orange juice when Mario found her. Her head was groggy, and she couldn’t think straight. Along with the sick feeling in her gut, all of her symptoms were pointing to a hangover, except she hadn’t been drinking.
He kissed her on the forehead. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Did you sleep all right?”
“I woke up and everything was fine for a few seconds until I remembered what happened,” Kitten said. “To Maureen. I thought maybe it was all a bad dream.” She stared at Mario. “But it wasn’t, was it?”
He shook his head, guiding her to a seat at the kitchen island. “No, my darling. The good news is I’ve hired Al De Duco to find whoever’s responsible, and he’s been here already, working on the case. I’m confident his team will find the killer in no time. The police have pretty much packed up for the weekend, except for one officer on duty downstairs.”
Kitten jumped up from her seat. “I need to see Al at once. Where is he? Let’s go.”
Mario placed a hand on her arm. “Why don’t you get showered and dressed. First things first. I need to take you to the Police Department to see Chief Hewson. He called earlier. Then we can go see Al.”
Kitten pushed his hand away. The heat rising in her body flushed her face. “The police can take a hike. I’ll see them when I’m ready. Right now, I want to speak with Al. Are you going to tell me where he is, or do I have to run through the building hollering for him in my nightgown?”
“Funny you should say that,” Mario said with a smile. “Fine. But at least brush your teeth and put on a robe.”
Kitten glared at him and stomped off to the bedroom. She emerged a few minutes later, hair brushed, and wearing a monogrammed robe with her initials KC embroidered on the soft white cotton fabric in gold thread.
“Let’s go,” she snapped, and Mario led the way.
Cassie didn’t bat an eye when she opened the door to condo 14B and a barefooted Kitten flounced in, demanding to see Al. Mario followed behind her, holding up his hands in apology.
“Al and Luke are in the living room,” Cassie said. “Go on in, and I’ll bring some iced tea.”
Kitten burst into tears when she saw Al, and he greeted her with a hug, rubbing her back until her body became still. “Now, Kitty, Ima gonna’ let ya’ sit down here beside Mario,” Al said gently, pointing to the loveseat. “And then we’ll all have a nice little talk.”
Kitten did as Al instructed, and Mario, squeezing in beside his wife, gave Al a nod of gratitude. Kitten clasped Mario’s hand as Al started to speak.
“Kitty, it’s possible Maureen may have been killed by one of the men she was seein’. It seems she wasn’t exclusive with any of them, which mighta’ caused some jealousy. Whaddya think?”
Kitten shrugged. “I guess. Everyone adored Maureen. Men couldn’t get enough of her, but her heart belonged to one man.”
“And that was?”
“Mac Jeffrey,” Kitten confirmed. “They were married for twenty years before he divorced her, and Maureen told me when we were getting ready to go to the party that they were seeing each other again. It was the first I’d heard of it.” She sniffed. “I didn’t approve, by the way.”
“Why’s that?” Al asked. “Didn’t Mac treat her nice?”
Kitten looked at all of them. “Mac dumped her for a younger woman who worked at his law firm. What sort of a way is that to treat a woman who stood by his side, raised their family, and kept their home while he was working his way up the law office ladder to become a partner? It sucks, if you ask me.”
Luke spoke up. “We’ve done a bit of digging and found out Mac split from the other woman he was seeing several weeks ago.” He glanced down at his notes. “She was formerly a secretary at Jeffrey, Woods & Wheeler, is that correct? I believe her name is Leslie Ramos.”
Kitten’s eyes narrowed. “That’s her. I thought she still worked there, but whatever. She was a piece of work, that’s for sure. She always hated my sister, and she wouldn’t have been pleased if she knew Maureen and Mac were an item. Not after the lengths she went to, trying to split them up in the first place.”
Cassie entered with a tray of iced teas and passed them around. “Would you like something to eat, Kitten? A sandwich, maybe?”
Kitten shook her head. “I think I’d throw up if I ate anything.” She checked herself. “But thanks for the offer. No offense intended.”
“None taken,” Cassie said politely.
Al chuckled. “Her cookin’s not that bad. A sandwich would be safe.”
“Ignore my husband,” Cassie said, smiling at Kitten. “He should have been a comedian.”
Al laughed harder, and Red came in to see what all the noise was about.
“I realized after the party I may have seen your sister once before,” Cassie said, addressing Kitten. “I think it was at the Canlis restaurant when I was there doing a review. I’m a food critic,” she added, by way of explanation.
“You probably did,” Kitten said. She took a sip of her tea. “This is nice.” She paused, and everyone waited for her to continue. “Maureen had been seeing the Executive Chef there, Gaspard Chastain. It wasn’t serious, at least on her part, and she broke up with him recently. She didn’t tell me why at the time, but I guess it makes sense now.”
“What do you mean?” Al asked her.
“If she was seeing Mac,” Kitten said.
“That explains what I saw at the party, as well,” Cassie said, recounting how she had watched the chef’s reaction when Maureen was leaving the party with Mac. “Come to think of it, when he was shouting in the kitchen I think I overheard some comment by him about a good-for-nothing-attorney that was thrown into his rant. The language he used was stronger than that, so I won’t repeat it here.”
“They ain’t good-fer-nuthin’,” Al said. “They’re good at takin’ yer’ money.” This time when he roared back with laughter, Mario and Luke joined in as well.
Kitten found herself exchanging a look with Cassie as the two women discovered some common ground, shaking their heads.
“We’re gonna’ need to go see Gaspard,” Al said to Luke when he’d wiped the tears away from his eyes. “Now then, Kitty, what can you tell us about Kansas Jack?”
“Jack Monroe,” Luke said, checking his notes again.
Kitten gave Luke a quizzical stare. “I know who he is, thank you.” Her voice softened. “Jack’s a lovely man. I think very highly of him, and I believe Maureen did too. I thought they were still seeing each other.” She shrugged. “But it shows how much I know. Maureen was carrying on with Mac right under my nose, and I had no idea. I can imagine if Jack knew about that, he would have been pretty upset. I thought he was a keeper.”
“Okay,” Al said. “Let’s move on.” He nodded towards Luke, who scrolled through his phone and handed it to Kitten.
“Do you recognize this handwriting?” Luke asked. “It’s a copy of a note we found in Maureen’s appointment book.”
Kitten peered at it and shook her head. “No, what’s that all about?”
Mario looked across a
t the screen. “Can I see that for a second?” He took the phone from Kitten and stared at it. “I think I recognize this. It’s Joe Li’s writing, I’d swear by it.”
“Who’s Joe Li?” Al asked.
“One of my business partners. Long story short, he’s someone else who could have it in for me, and what the note says makes sense in that context.”
“Can ya’ get us a sample of his handwritin’ to compare it with? That’s the only way to tell fer certain.”
Mario confirmed he would.
“In that case,” Al said, “looks like we got a busy few days ahead of us.” He looked around at the assembled group and his eyes rested on Kitten, giving her an encouraging smile. “We got this Kitty, don’tcha worry.”
“Thanks, Al,” she said, resting her head on Mario’s shoulder. He put an arm around her.
Al stood up. “Ima gonna’ start the ball rollin’ with the low hangin’ fruit, and make a visit to see our old friend, Angelo Conti. Rob’s confirmed I ain’t got far to go.”
Mario cleared his throat. “Would you like me to come with you, Al?”
“S’ok. Don’t look so nervous, Mario. You take care of Kitten and take her down to North Precinct before the Chief comes lookin’ fer her.” He clasped his hands together and cracked his knuckles. “You can leave Angelo to me.”
CHAPTER 14
“Hey Rob, what have you got on Jack Monroe?” Luke was pacing outside the front of the Waterfront Palace, glad to get a chance to stretch his legs after several hours inside.
“Let’s see,” Rob said, and Luke could hear him tapping on the keyboard of his computer. “Here we go. Jack’s in his early fifties, a little younger than Maureen. He’s worked in sales all his life, as well as helping on the family ranch. Started out as a door-to-door salesman and worked up the ranks to become one of the top sales executives in his company.”
“That’s impressive,” Luke said. He walked forward from the building’s entrance to where a walled-stone circle had a decorative water fountain as its centrepiece. He held out his arm, letting the spray from the water cool his skin. Then he put his phone into his other hand and did the same thing with his other arm.
“Yes,” Rob said. “He’s a hard worker and well thought of by his co-workers and the rural community where he lives with his widowed mother. He’s involved with the local church, and never married.”
“He sounds too good to be true.”
“You might be right. Listen up, because this is where it gets interesting.”
Luke could hear another call coming through on his phone line, but he let it go to voicemail. “Go on,” he said to Rob.
“Jack travels to Seattle regularly for work,” Rob continued, “which is how he met Maureen. According to her appointment book, he was due to arrive in Seattle last Thursday. Going by what happened on previous trips, it looks like Maureen saw him more than once over the space of a few days.”
“So you think he’s still in Seattle?”
“It’s possible,” Rob said. “And here’s the clincher. “The company he works for has a condo in the Waterfront Palace that the sales guys use when they’re in town.”
Luke was already heading back towards the building. “Keep talking,” he said, smiling at George who opened the door for him as he approached.
“The company condo is 9F. Good luck and let me know what happens.” Rob ended the call.
Luke tapped his leg with impatience waiting for the elevator, and practically broke into a run when he arrived on the 9th floor. He found 9F at the front of the building. It was one of the lower-priced units with no waterfront view. However, his anticipation of an imminent encounter with Jack Monroe was short-lived.
Moments after he knocked, a shirtless man opened the door holding a bottle of beer.
“Hello, I’m looking for Jack Monroe.” Luke said.
A woman’s voice called out from inside the condo. “Hurry up, Dustin. I’m starving. You’ve made me work up quite an appetite.”
The man stared at Luke. “I thought you were the pizza guy. Jack isn’t here. I’ve had the condo booked the last few days, for work meetings.” He turned his head as the woman called out again.
“Heyyyyyy Dustin. I’ve got something to show you in here.” This was followed by the sound of giggling.
Dustin turned back to Luke with a bashful shrug and started to close the door. “I’m kind of busy right now.”
Luke moved one foot forward onto the threshold, blocking the door from closing. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but I really need to contact Jack about something urgent. Do you know where I can find him?”
“If he’s still in town, he might be at the Crowne Plaza hotel,” Dustin said. “That’s where the sales team usually stays when this condo’s not available.” He moved his head closer to Luke and spoke quietly. “Listen man, you’re killing me here. I really have to go.”
Luke moved his foot out of the way and nodded. “I get it. Thanks for your help, I appreciate it.”
Back outside, he hurried out to the street and flagged a cab while phoning Rob.
“Rob, I’m on my way to the Crowne Plaza. Can you check if Jack’s staying there, and if so, let me know his room number?”
It wouldn’t have taken Luke long to walk to the hotel, but he was eager to get there as quickly as possible. By the time he jumped out of the cab several blocks later, Rob had texted him back with Jack’s room number. Inside the lobby, Luke took one look at the line for the elevators and headed for the stairs.
He was still out of breath when he knocked on the door of room 503. It was opened by a grey-haired man casually dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, holding a bottle of beer.
What is it about Sunday evenings and a bottle of beer? Luke thought. Suddenly, he craved one.
“I’m looking for Jack Monroe?” Luke asked for the second time that night.
“That’s me.” Jack regarded Luke with surprise. “Do I know you?”
“I wonder if you could spare a few moments of your time, sir. It’s regarding Maureen Knight. My name is Luke Robertson, and I’m a private investigator.”
Jack’s face was immediately alert, and he nodded while holding the door open for Luke to enter. “Would you like a cold one, Luke?” he asked when they were inside the room.
Luke allowed himself a small smile. “That would be awesome, thanks.”
Jack opened the mini-bar and handed Luke a beer, motioning to chairs around a small table in the corner. The hotel room was upscale, but not luxurious. The corporate styling and red and gold colors had the executive footprint of an established brand with hundreds of hotels around the globe.
When they were seated, Jack addressed Luke with a worried expression. “Why do you need to talk to me about Maureen? Is she all right? I’ve been trying to reach her for the last couple of days.”
Luke observed the sheen of sweat on Jack’s furrowed brow, and the slight trembling in his voice. He could see Jack’s emotions were already running high and waited for the reaction his next statement would bring.
“Jack, I’m sorry to tell you this, but there’s been an incident.”
“What sort of incident?” Jack’s eyes reflected panic, like a deer in the headlights. He gripped his beer bottle so tight his knuckles were white. “Has Maureen been hurt?”
“She’s been killed, Jack. It was murder.”
The bottle of beer dropped out of Jack’s hand and a pool of yellow foam seeped onto the carpet. Luke reached down and picked the bottle up, setting it on the table.
Jack buried his face in his hands, his body shaking, and a sound came from deep inside him. It was the sound of a man who’d been broken, or had a limb ripped off of his body, and was so deep and disturbing that Luke struggled to watch. It brought back his own grief about Megan, which was never far from the surface, and he had to swallow a lump in his throat. He bowed his head and sat motionless and silent, until Jack finally became quiet and spoke.
“Wh
at happened?”
Luke filled him in on how Kitten had discovered her sister’s body late on Saturday morning. “Maureen was shot,” he said. “I work for the PI firm hired by her sister’s husband to find her killer.”
“I see,” Jack said. “If there’s anything I can do to help you out, just let me know.”
Luke paused. Jack looked as if he’d aged ten years in ten minutes. “Where were you on Friday night and Saturday morning, Mr. Monroe?”
Jack recoiled in his seat as if he’d been struck with a baseball bat. “It’s Mr. Monroe now, is it? Do you seriously think I killed Maureen? I loved her.”
“I don’t think anything, I’m just gathering the facts,” Luke said. “You understand that, don’t you?”
“I guess so.” Jack was staring somewhere over Luke’s shoulder. “I was in Vancouver, if you must know. I flew there on Friday morning for a meeting with a client. He was supposed to meet me here in Seattle but he was unable to travel because one of his children was quite ill, so I went there.”
“I see.” Luke was making notes. “And when did you return to Seattle?”
“Saturday afternoon.” Jack stood up and walked over to the closet, rooting in the inside pocket of a suit coat. He came back with a bundle of papers. “Here,” he said, dropping them on the table. “These are my flight tickets and expenses receipts. I always keep everything, so I can make a claim to the company for reimbursement.”
Luke made no move to check the receipts. He knew they could be substantiated later. “Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on Friday night, Jack?”
Jack nodded. “Yes. My client name is Richard Crawford. I took him out for dinner on Friday night after our meeting. The restaurant receipt is with the others. Back at the hotel, I watched a movie and ordered a snack from room service after midnight, I can’t remember exactly but they should have a record of me signing for it in my room.”
For what it was worth, Luke believed him. He’d interviewed enough liars during his time as a police officer to know when someone was lying to him.
Murder at the Waterfront: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 7) Page 9
