Two Parts Bloody Murder

by Jen J. Danna

  “I’m just exploring all possible avenues,” Leigh said calmly, plucking the evidence bag from Heidi’s hand and sliding it back into the pocket of her jacket. “What I can tell you is that these cuff links appear in crime scene photos from Anna Kain’s death, and then were found on the body of Peter Holt. They’re unique pieces, so there’s no mistaking them.”

  “Maybe they were Great-Grandfather’s cuff links and he sold them,” Connor reasoned. “That would be why none of us recognize them. Perhaps they’ve been gone for years. He could have sold them through a jeweler or a pawn shop. Or perhaps he gave them away. Either way, there’s no connection to us.”

  Not in a million years, Matt thought. Not considering their provenance. They aren’t just pieces of jewelry; they’re harbingers of death.

  “He could have,” Leigh said, her tone casual. “But I need to exercise due diligence.” Hands on her hips, she studied the room. “I need to know your whereabouts during a two hour window from ten p.m. a week ago Thursday until midnight on Friday.” She flipped open her notepad and pointed at David with the end of her pen. “Starting with you.”

  They went slowly around the room, each person providing detailed information. The alibis came fast and furious—the married couples were home with each other; Ethel was alone in her room at her retirement home, but the staff would attest that she never went out; Connor was at a private astronomy viewing at the High Rock Tower observatory; and Heidi was working the evening shift at a local bar—all except for Eric, who sullenly announced that he was out “for a drive” after he and his ex-girlfriend had a fight that evening.

  Leigh flipped the notepad closed and nodded to Matt that the interview was over. “Thank you all for your time. When I learn anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  Tuesday, 6:07 p.m.

  McDermott Residence

  Lynn, Massachusetts

  Matt and Leigh were silent on the walk back to the car as Barb and David stood on the front step, unmindful of the cold air streaming into the house through the open door behind them. It was only after they’d both climbed in and Leigh pulled away from the curb that she let out a long breath. She glanced over at Matt, his profile lit by splashes of light as they sped down the street. “So, did you spot anything that set off warning bells?”

  “I think the announcement of Cabrera’s innocence honestly caught them all off guard. If one of them knew about it ahead of time, I didn’t catch any sign of it. I could have missed it, or whoever it is might just be damned good.”

  “I didn’t catch anything then either. So how about once I showed them the cuff links?”

  “Things are a little trickier there. The only one to show real disinterest was Eric. While everyone else was staring at the cuff links, he was staring at you.”

  “I did a run on him because I didn’t like his demeanor. He’s had a few dust-ups with the cops before. Drunk and disorderly behavior, a bar fight or two, that sort of thing. Nothing so far that would hint at something like this, but most criminals start with small stuff and then it escalates from there.”

  “His focus on you could also represent general caution with the police. If he’s got a record, even for minor stuff, he might feel that we’re automatically looking at him.”

  “We are looking at him. Especially since he’s the only one with no alibi. Of course, I’m going to check out everyone else’s. And I’ll look at the married couples carefully since they alibi each other.”

  “You’ve done a nice job of keeping the two related deaths disconnected. If they’d been paying attention, someone should have put two and two together. But because you’ve been able to keep the speakeasy out of the news since Charles Ward’s murder isn’t really a current police case, they know about the hidden body there, but haven’t connected the physical location with Peter Holt yet.”

  “That’s not going to last though. I could bet money on the fact that at least one of them is looking into the details of Peter Holt’s death as we speak. And once they realize that it’s all in the same location, the puzzle pieces are going to start to click into place for them.”

  “Except Peter Holt’s killer already knows all about it,” Matt pointed out. “It’s the reason he left the body there. Another private message to Evelyn Holt: My mother/grandmother/great-grandmother, died … and now you’re going to pay.”

  “The real danger here though is that now the killer knows that we know those details. I’m walking a delicate line here; I’m trying to push one of them into revealing something about themselves, but not so hard that they run.”

  “Or go completely off the rails and try to kill Mrs. Holt herself, or even you. You need the killer off-balance so they do something stupid and tip their hand, I get that. But even if they don’t, we’ll still figure it out. We’re close, Leigh. The person we’re looking for was in that room. I could feel it.”

  “Me too. So close and yet so far.” Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket, glancing quickly at the screen. Rob Tucker. She handed it to Matt. “Can you answer that and put it on speaker?” She waited while Matt connected the call. “Tucker, I’m here with Matt, and you’re on speaker. What have you got for me?”

  “I’m fine, Abbott. It’s been a good day. Thanks for asking. How about you?”

  “Blah blah blah, Tucker. Now cut to the chase.”

  “See what I mean, Lowell? See how she rides my ass?”

  Matt laughed. “No doubt about it, she’s a slave driver.” He winked at Leigh. “Now, what have you got?”

  “Awesome, now you’re doing it too. Fine. Abbott, I think I might have what you’re looking for. There weren’t any big changes in Evelyn Holt’s life in nineteen-seventy-five. No births or deaths in the family. No new employment. No change in taxation to indicate significant income adjustment. But what I did find was something that others might have skimmed over and missed.”

  “You’re amazing, Tucker. It’s why I asked you. Now spill.”

  “You could bruise a guy’s delicate ego, Abbott.”

  “Delicate, my ass. It would take more than me to put even a tiny dent in yours. Now, what tiny, yet significant, thing did you find?”

  “Evelyn Holt applied for, and was granted, building renovation permits for the house in Lynn in May of nineteen-seventy-five.”

  Leigh glanced at Matt, who stared back, one eyebrow cocked in interest. “The Ward family house? The one where Peter Holt was murdered?”

  “The same. Abbott, she found something, I just know it. She didn’t act for years, but then suddenly, she goes after Samuel Kain’s wife? For most minor fixes, you don’t need a permit. But you do if you’re doing a major renovation. My guess is they took out floors or walls to update an older home and she found something that helped her figure out what must have happened to her father—maybe something he’d hidden away—and went after Anna Kain in revenge.”

  “Tucker, you’re brilliant. I owe you one.”

  “It’s worth it all just for you to stroke my ego like this. I’ll shoot the details to your email. Gotta run. Over and out.” He clicked off.

  Leigh smacked the steering wheel in jubilation. “He’s good, you can’t deny it.”

  “Nope. And another loose end potentially gets tied off. We don’t know what she found, but for the first time the huge time gap between murders makes sense.”

  Leigh checked the car’s clock. “I want to check on the info Tucker’s sending, but then I think it’s time to go bring Evelyn Holt in for questioning. You free first thing tomorrow? You can’t sit in on the interview but you can certainly observe.”

  “If I’m not, I’ll clear it. I don’t want to miss this. You’re going to nail her to the wall and I want to watch it happen.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: 190 PROOF

  * * *

  190 proof: the highest concentration of alcohol in any alcoholic beverage. Above 190 proof—ninety-five percent alcohol by volume—the liquid draws moisture from the air and self-dilutes.


  Wednesday, 9:49 a.m.

  Essex Detective Unit

  Salem, Massachusetts

  Leigh looked up from a stack of paperwork at the sound of a soft tap on the metal edge of her cubicle. Matt leaned against the wall, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, hooked over two fingers.

  “Good morning.”

  “Oh, damn.”

  He fixed her with a pointed stare. “Should I have shown up bearing coffee as a bribe? I thought we were meeting now.”

  “We were and bribery isn’t required. I just got caught up in something else right at the beginning of shift and I haven’t had time to go down to Boston yet to bring Evelyn in for questioning. Sorry, I should have called you to let you know, but I lost track of time.”

  “Luckily I cleared my morning, so I’m flexible.”

  “Thanks. Let me just pack this up for now and we’ll go.” Standing, Leigh started to stack her papers and was sliding them neatly into her file folder when her phone rang. “Trooper Abbott.”

  “Trooper, it’s Hilary Boxall.”

  Silence stretched across the line as Leigh tried desperately to place the name.

  “I’m Evelyn Holt’s assistant,” the woman continued.

  The image of the willowy, perfectly coiffed blonde in a white blouse and black pants bloomed in Leigh’s mind. “What can I do for you, Ms. Boxall?”

  “I found your card in Mrs. Holt’s desk …”

  When the woman paused overly long, Leigh deduced it wouldn’t be a short conversation and waved Matt into her cubicle. He leaned a hip on the corner of her desk, his jacket tossed carelessly over one knee as he fixed on her face, trying to follow the conversation from only one side.

  “How can I help you, Ms. Boxall?” Leigh pressed.

  “It’s not me, it’s Mrs. Holt.” The words came out in a rush, stress accentuating the final hard consonant.

  “How can I help Mrs. Holt then?”

  “She left about twenty minutes ago in a flurry.”

  “And this concerned you in some way?”

  “Mrs. Holt is never in a flurry. She’s one of the most composed and controlled people I know. Something is very wrong.”

  “Hilary, I need more.” Leigh hoped the use of the woman’s first name would not only calm her, but would coax a more intimate sharing of information. “What put Mrs. Holt into this ‘flurry’?”

  “She got a phone call. I don’t know who it was from—a man, I can tell you that much since I answered the phone—but I can’t tell you anything more. I don’t think it was someone she’s close to because the voice was unfamiliar.”

  Leigh reached for a pen and her notepad. “Young? Old?”

  “I’m not sure. And there was no number on call display.”

  “When was the call?”

  “Just before she left the house. She took the car, for God’s sake!”

  Leigh stared up at Matt, perplexed. This level of alarm seemed a little over the top. “This is unusual?”

  “Yes. Boston traffic can be intense, so Mrs. Holt prefers I drive her most of the time. But she made it very clear she was going alone this morning, even though she seemed very agitated.”

  “Are you concerned she’s going to have an accident?”

  Hilary gasped. “I never even thought of that. What if she does?”

  Leigh’s mental image of the holier-than-thou assistant disintegrated into that of a huddled and terrified child. “Hilary!” Her voice came out sharply. Matt stiffened beside her. “Stay on point. Why are you so concerned?”

  “I listened in on part of the conversation.” The confession came out as a whisper. “She was arguing with him. I couldn’t hear the whole thing, but I heard things like ‘What right do you have to demand that of me?’ and ‘I’m a Ward and you’re nothing but the by-blow of a street rat.’ The last thing she said was ‘I know what you did, and you’ll pay.’ Then the phone crashed down and there were doors slamming and a clang and then she tore out of the house. It’s the clang that really worries me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s the sound of her gun safe slamming shut. It’s hidden behind some false books in the den.”

  Leigh surged to her feet, Matt following suit in alarm, his jacket tumbling to the floor. “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know, but I think she’s meeting someone somewhere. There was a pad of paper on her desk. On it were three letters—HRT—and the time—ten o’clock.”

  Leigh covered the mouthpiece with one hand. “HRT,” she hissed at Matt. “What could that stand for?”

  “Heart rate turbulence? Hostage Response Team?”

  “It’s more likely a location of a meet.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got nothing then.” His eyes lost focus and she knew he was desperately running through local landmarks and businesses, trying to match the letters.

  “Trooper, are you there?”

  Leigh dropped her hand from the mouthpiece. “I’m here. Hilary, what does Mrs. Holt drive?”

  “A silver four-door Lexus.”

  “Leave this with me for now. But I want you to call me if you think of anything else or if Mrs. Holt comes back. My cell number is on that card. I’ll be in the field so call me there.”

  She hung up and quickly filled Matt in, his face growing more and more concerned. “You think she’s gone after someone?”

  “I’m certain of it.” She paced several steps away before rounding on him. “Did I make a mistake last night?”

  “In revealing the cuff links? I don’t think so. You had evidence that connected one crime scene to the next, limiting the number of people who could have been involved. You had to question those people.”

  “And I didn’t have enough to bring anyone in and possibly be able to hold them. I wanted to shake things up, but I didn’t want it to go this far.”

  “Maybe it’s unrelated. Maybe she just had a charity emergency of some kind or a friend is sick. We don’t know enough yet, so don’t jump to conclusions.”

  “She took a gun with her. What other conclusion should I be jumping to?”

  “Okay, you got me there. It looks bad.” He picked his jacket up off the floor and shrugged into it. “What next then?”

  “I think we need to find out where all the Kains are. If what we suspect is correct, one of them is on the move and won’t be in touch with the cops. And we need to do it before Evelyn gets caught in the crossfire.”

  “If revenge is what our missing Kain has in mind, that might have been the plan all along.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not happening on my watch.” She instinctively laid a hand on her badge and her service weapon, making sure she had everything she needed before grabbing her jacket and stepping out from the cubicle.

  “Hey, Abbott.” Riley’s head popped over the top of his cubicle on the far side of the room. “I was hoping I’d catch you. I’ve been following up on confirming alibis for the Kain family for a week ago Thursday.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think I just hit pay dirt.”

  With a head cock at Matt to follow, she met Riley in the narrow corridor between the cubicles. “What have you got?”

  “I started with Heidi Kain. She was working that night and multiple people can attest to it. But Connor Kain either lied to you, or he’s not telling the whole truth. He said he was at a private viewing at the observatory that night. The head of Lynn City Development is in charge of who has access to the tower and when. There was a private viewing that night and Connor was asked to attend, but he backed out at the last minute and had someone else cover for him. I’ve still got a few more names to check, but I thought you’d want to know right away.”

  “You know, if you take a minute to think this through, he makes sense,” Matt said. “Connor’s the one with the closest bond to Samuel. Closer apparently than even his own daughter, who talked about their ‘special connection’ and how Samuel was the one to get Connor started in astronomy.
Something that was such a strong love it became his career.”

  “Think back to what Connor said last night,” Leigh said. “He was the one who tried to lead us away from the family group by suggesting the cuff links had been sold years ago.”

  “He expected to be so peripheral that you’d never look at him. He probably never thought he needed an alibi to hold up so he didn’t make sure from the start that he could prove where he was that night. He had no idea you would tie the cuff links back to Anna Kain’s murder and point the spotlight right at his whole family.”

  “Until last night when I made it clear I was looking exclusively at them. But why would he kill Peter Holt?”

  “Because of that bond with his grandfather? Somehow he not only got a hold of those cuff links, but he also found out what they represented. And just like Evelyn killed Anna for both revenge and to make Samuel suffer, he did the same thing to her. You know, when you look at it like that, Eric doesn’t make sense as the killer. He’s capable, we’ve both felt that, but he isn’t involved enough in the family to give a damn. Certainly not enough to risk a life sentence if he ever got caught.”

  “But Connor would. Damn it, I let myself get distracted by the obvious. And maybe now the time gap between Anna’s and Peter Holt’s deaths makes sense too. It’s because his great-grandfather doesn’t have long to live. Connor’s killing in his great-grandfather’s stead, so he wants him alive to know he’s taking care of family business.”

  “He probably also knows Samuel has very little time to recognize what his favorite great-grandson did for him at the rate his mental capabilities are degrading.”

  “So then if we assume that call was from Connor, what could he say that would draw Evelyn out?”

  “Maybe he told her he had information about her son’s death? Or maybe he told her he knew she killed Anna and she had to meet him or he was taking his information to the police?”

  “No big threat there. He couldn’t afford to shine that kind of spotlight on himself right now.”

  “You know that and I know that, but Evelyn probably isn’t thinking too clearly right now. She’s still grieving over the loss of her only son.”