by Sandra Balzo
I had a thought. ‘Those footprints couldn’t have been from Kelly, could they? Maybe she did climb up to check out the truck.’
‘She would have said so,’ Pavlik said.
Given how ticked he had been, I wasn’t so sure.
‘There was only one set,’ I said, effectively submarining my own theory. ‘Presumably leaving the truck.’
‘Unless somebody climbed up and hid in it after the fact,’ Pavlik said, markedly exasperated. ‘I wouldn’t rule out anything at this point.’
‘The other strange thing is the footprints are on the passenger side,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘Wouldn’t a driver get out his or her own side?’
‘They were trying to throw us off?’ I guessed.
The ‘us’ got a ghost of a grin from the sheriff. ‘If there were no prints on the driver’s side. Unfortunately, nobody checked at the time – at least before the snow had obliterated everything – and Sarah’s photo doesn’t show that side.’
‘What screwed things up,’ I mused, ‘was the assumption that the driver had gotten out farther up the street and then been run over by his own plow. There was no reason to look for footprints where the’ – finger quotes – ‘“runaway” plow had come to a stop.’
Pavlik shook his head crossly. ‘But that was the theory only because the truck was empty.’
‘Then maybe Maggy is right,’ Sarah said, ‘and the footprints are one of the first responders’. I saw somewhere that investigators try to step in their own footprints.’
‘Literally retracing their steps,’ I said. ‘Maybe that’s why there is only one set. Or someone went in on the passenger side and out on the driver side, where we can’t see them in this photo. Or vice versa.’
‘Maybe.’ Pavlik was done talking about what he saw as a myriad of mistakes by his people. He would likely worry that bone at home tonight.
And he did. ‘No luck on the fingerprints,’ he told me that night. ‘At least no matches to Helena Margraves.’
‘But there were other prints in the cab besides Harold’s?’ I asked, passing him a piece of peperoni pizza.
‘Tons. It is a garbage truck.’
On cue, our own canine garbage truck wandered in, followed by his clean-up act, Mocha. I cut up a slice to divide between the two of them and sat down with mine as they made quick work of theirs. ‘What are you doing with Helena? Can you keep her here?’
‘Her missing passport is effectively doing that, at least until she can get another form of ID sent to her. You didn’t steal it, did you?’
‘Her passport?’ I was practically speechless. ‘That would have taken real skill on my part.’ So thank you.
‘Or you could have had Caron instruct her housekeepers to lift it.’
‘Didn’t think of it,’ I said ruefully. ‘Caron probably wouldn’t have done it anyway. Too ethical.’
‘Good thing you have Sarah now,’ Pavlik said with a grin.
‘Sometimes it is,’ I said, taking a second piece of the pie. ‘I wonder what did happen to the passport.’
‘Probably fell down next to the seat in her taxi,’ Pavlik said, scoring the last slice. ‘Passports, charge cards, cell phones, they all seem to go that way.’
‘But the driver would turn it in, wouldn’t he?’
‘If he or she is honest. But these things also can be sold.’
‘Do you honestly think Helena killed her husband?’
Pavlik stopped mid-bite. ‘Not necessarily. But I am surprised you have doubts. You’re the one who has been passing on all this information.’
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘I just thought you needed to know she was here when he died. And why.’
‘And you were right.’ He set down his slice. ‘There’s more to this than meets the eye. Helena says her husband has been siphoning money from their accounts.’
Now that was interesting. ‘More reason for her to want him dead? Maybe Barry really was going to leave her for Christy and then got cold feet.’ Literally, figuratively and forever.
‘Possibly. Or maybe he was using Christy. I’m curious about this package – this diamond, she thinks – that he sent.’
‘Which is now missing, along with the diamond bracelet. I’m curious about that, too.’ I eyed the piece of pizza he had set down as I finished my own. ‘Helena is the logical thief.’
Pavlik shook his head. ‘Christy reported the loss on Wednesday evening. She believes she heard somebody Tuesday night, but the door wasn’t broken in until Wednesday.’
‘When she was at Rebecca’s.’
‘Correct. But the bulk of that time, Helena Margraves was in Denver. She flew out Tuesday evening and then returned Wednesday afternoon. Anthony picked her up at the airport, brought her to the morgue to identify her husband’s body and then dropped her off at the Morrison. It doesn’t leave much time for breaking and entering.’
‘Christy thinks Helena may have faked leaving. And coming back.’
‘But like I said, Anthony picked her up at the airport.’
‘Christy says, you walk out of an airport with your bags, people just assume you flew in.’ I shrugged. ‘And before you ask, I don’t know how she would know that.’
‘It sounds a little out there, but I’m starting to think anything is possible in this case.’ Pavlik frowned and pulled out his phone to make a note. ‘I’ll have Anthony double-check that she was on the flight.’
‘Both flights. To and from.’ I cherry-picked a piece of peperoni from Pavlik’s slice, eliciting a whimper from Mocha. ‘Are you thinking that you and Frank are getting that piece?’
‘It’s a fairly good bet,’ Pavlik said. ‘Especially now that you’ve denuded it.’
‘Sorry.’ Though I wasn’t. ‘Do we know where Barry stayed the night he flew in? Obviously not at the Morrison since the booking there was for Helena.’
‘We checked recent purchases on his credit card. Apparently he booked the Slattery Arms in Milwaukee.’
‘The man had good taste,’ I said, as I divvied up the puppies’ second slice. ‘Or at least expensive taste.’
Pavlik raised his eyebrows. ‘I have an idea. Why don’t you call your old boyfriend and pump him for information?’
Stephen Slattery was the brother of my ex-husband Ted’s wife Rachel. It’s messier than it sounds.
‘Stephen and I never really dated, and I keep as far away from the Slattery family as possible these days.’
‘And yet you turned pink when I mentioned his name.’
‘Did not.’ I stood up. ‘Anything else I can get you?’
‘Nope. Making you blush was enough for me.’
ELEVEN
‘It’s not surprising that Barry Margraves stayed at the Slattery Arms,’ Sarah said on Friday morning. ‘It’s the best hotel in town.’
The morning had been remarkably busy. Probably helped that we had flipped the sign to ‘Open’.
‘Best in downtown Milwaukee,’ I agreed. ‘But not really convenient if he was coming to the ’burbs. We’re a full fifteen miles away.’ Hence the commuter train that ran between Brookhills and Milwaukee.
‘I assume he flew into Mitchell International. It would figure he’d stay in Milwaukee rather than search for hotels in Brookhills, where the pickings are slim.’ As in one: the Morrison.
I was placing the cups Sarah was handing me into the dishwasher. ‘Pavlik found the charge in Margraves’ recent transactions – things that hadn’t posted to his bill yet so even Helena didn’t know.’
‘Or so she says.’ Sarah paused, cappuccino cup in hand. ‘Between our phones and our credit cards it’s hard to keep anything secret.’
‘True. Unusual spending is what caught Helena’s attention and brought her here in the first place. But Pavlik said …’ I stopped.
‘Pavlik said what?’ She passed me the cup.
I put it in the dishwasher and closed the door to gain time. ‘I’m not sure if this is one of the things Pavlik would expect me to keep confidential.’<
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‘Or not. Come on, don’t be a wimp. Err on the side of throwing caution to the wind.’
I grimaced. ‘If I do, you can’t tell anybody.’
‘Do I ever?’ She reached past me to push the start button on the dishwasher.
‘Yes.’ I leaned my butt against the dishwasher and sighed. ‘He said that Helena told them that money had been transferred – siphoned, was his word – out of their family’s accounts.’
‘Now she’s saying that? What happened to “I’d forgive anything to have him back”. Isn’t that what she told you and Caron?’
‘Maybe she meant “him and our money”,’ I said.
‘If this is true,’ Sarah said, ‘and I assume Pavlik has confirmed it …’ She looked at me.
I shrugged.
A roll of the eyes. ‘Anyway, if Barry was hiding assets, it sounds like he was preparing to leave Helena. Or fake his death. I don’t suppose there’s any chance he’s still alive?’
‘Afraid not. He might have been flat, but he was identifiable.’
‘By his wife and the contents of his wallet,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘Helena could be lying and the wallet planted on some unsuspecting patsy.’
‘A patsy who identified himself as Margraves and then got mowed down by a truck nobody knew was coming?’ I asked. ‘That’s dedication.’
‘The very definition of the word “patsy”,’ Sarah said stubbornly. ‘And the reason Helena ran him down. Get rid of the loose ends.’
It was a fun theory, but: ‘Why would Helena help her husband disappear with their money?’
‘Because there’s obviously something in his past we don’t know,’ Sarah said, folding her arms.
‘There’s a lot we don’t know,’ I said. ‘But can we get back to what we do know? Barry Margraves was hiding assets and fooling around – at least virtually.’
‘Are you going to ask Pavlik about Barry?’ Sarah’s arms were still folded.
‘Whether they’re sure it’s him who is dead? Of course I will,’ I promised, knowing we wouldn’t move on otherwise.
‘Back to your less interesting theory,’ Sarah said. ‘I suppose it’s possible Barry was planning to leave with both the money and Christy.’
‘If so, he changed his mind quick on Tuesday morning,’ I said. ‘At least about the Christy part.’
‘I read somewhere that people can be unhappy in a relationship but not do anything about it, until they have an alternative.’
‘A fresh lily pad for the frog to jump to.’
‘Let’s call him a toad. Frog’s too good for him.’
‘Now you sound like me,’ I said, straightening to step away from the dishwasher. My butt was getting hot. ‘But frog or toad, Margraves had second thoughts when he arrived here on Tuesday.’
‘Given that, what was his alternative?’ Sarah asked. ‘Go back to Helena and pretend it never happened?’
‘It’s possible. So far as we know, Barry had no idea that Helena was even on to him.’
‘And from what you said about his reaction to Christy, Helena wasn’t going to catch them in the act no matter how long she stayed.’
‘Which is another question. Did Helena actually leave on Tuesday and come back on Wednesday, like she said?’
‘Does that really matter?’ Sarah asked. ‘Her husband died Tuesday morning and we know she was here then.’
‘But the theft of Christy’s—’
The door burst open. ‘Look at what I found,’ Christy exclaimed, holding up her arm.
‘Speak of the devil,’ I said, circling around from behind the serving area to where she stood.
Christy’s face fell. ‘I’m the devil?’
‘Not you, your bracelet,’ I said, waving for her to sit down. ‘We were just talking about it.’
‘Where did you find it?’ Sarah asked, joining us at the table.
‘In my coat pocket,’ Christy said, taking off the wool coat in question and hanging it over the back of the chair. The thing was so long, half of it was on the floor as she tried to pull the chair out to sit. ‘Can you believe it?
‘Honestly, no.’ Sarah was frowning. ‘After all that whining, you never actually lost the thing?’
‘Or had it stolen?’ I asked.
‘It’s really a mystery.’ Christy leaned forward, her hands tented. ‘It must have just slipped off.’
‘You do have skinny-ass wrists,’ Sarah said, taking one and twisting it around to see the bracelet.
‘Ouch.’ Christy pulled back her arm.
‘The bracelet is pretty loose,’ I said.
‘Right?’ Christy was admiring the thing. ‘Maybe it slipped when I was taking my gloves off and got caught up when I stuffed them in my pocket.’
I frowned. ‘It was in your glove?’
‘No, my pocket. But it could have slipped out of the glove or even just off my wrist and into the pocket.’
‘Lucky for you,’ Sarah said. ‘It could just as easily have fallen onto the ground.’
‘Oh, but then I’d have noticed, don’t you think?’
I was thinking, but not about that precisely. ‘What about the robbery?’
‘I know,’ Christy said, head going up and down. ‘It’s a curious thing, isn’t it?’
Curiouser and curiouser. ‘If there was no robbery, then where is the package Barry sent you?’
Christy held out both hands, palms up. ‘I don’t know. I guess I must have misplaced it.’
‘You don’t know?’ Sarah repeated. ‘You said it had a diamond in it, for God’s sake. And how is it you never checked your pockets for the bracelet?’
Christy bristled, pushing her bottom lip out. ‘A lot has happened, you know. The envelope arrived right after Barry died, after all. I was in no state to remember anything.’
‘Apparently,’ Sarah said. ‘But even so, you invented a robbery and reported it to the police. That’s a crime, isn’t it, Maggy?’
‘Probably,’ I said, a little absentmindedly.
‘Well, you’d better find that envelope,’ Sarah continued, seeming to take Christy’s absent-mindedness personally. ‘Maggy says Barry was taking money out of their accounts and probably used it and their credit cards for your little gifts. Half that bracelet and whatever is in the envelope belongs to Helena.’
Sure. Sarah decides to torment Christy, and I’m the one who gets hurt. ‘That was confidential,’ I snapped at her.
But Christy was clutching the bracelet to her chest. ‘She can’t have it. He gave it to me. It’s mine, right, Maggy?’
I held up my hands in surrender. ‘I honestly have no idea who owns the bracelet. But I do think you were robbed.’
‘You mean the envelope,’ Christy said, a vertical frown wrinkle creasing her forehead between her eyes.
‘And the bracelet.’
‘Which is on her arm,’ Sarah said, grumpily. ‘And I don’t know why you get so touchy about Pavlik.’
‘I’m touchy when you repeat something that I told you in confidence,’ I said. ‘You promised not twenty minutes ago that you wouldn’t repeat it.’
‘Repeat what?’ Christy was looking back and forth between the two of us.
‘See?’ Sarah asked. ‘She doesn’t remember anyway.’
Fine. ‘Back to the bracelet, Christy. If it has been in your pocket since you reported it missing Wednesday night, why didn’t you find it yesterday? Today is Friday.’
‘Like I said.’ Sarah was nodding.
Christy shrugged. ‘I just didn’t notice, I guess. Or maybe I wore a different jacket.’
‘You were wearing that coat yesterday at the Morrison,’ I pointed out.
‘Was I?’
‘Yes. I noticed it specifically when Helena attacked you.’
‘The widow attacked her?’ Sarah asked eagerly. ‘Why didn’t I get details?’
‘It was more a lunge than an attack,’ Christy said. ‘We both fell on the couch.’
‘And they ended up hugging and crying,�
�� I said. ‘Don’t you see what I’m getting at?’
‘That Christy and Helena are late-blooming lesbians as a result of being done wrong by the same man?’ Sarah guessed.
‘We are not,’ Christy said. ‘At least I’m not. Now.’
Sarah opened her mouth to pursue that.
‘Enough.’ I held up my hand. ‘What I am trying to say is that Helena Margraves launched herself at Christy, landing on top of her. Christy was wearing this coat. The same coat in which today she found her bracelet.’
I could not paint a clearer picture, but Christy still couldn’t see it. ‘Huh?’
Sarah, however, threw me a look. ‘Why don’t you just say that Helena Margraves planted it in Christy’s coat pocket?’
I sighed. ‘Because it’s not as much fun.’
‘Wait,’ Christy said, eyes wide. ‘Helena put the bracelet in my coat?’
‘You’re right, Maggy,’ Sarah said, sarcastically. ‘That was fun.’
I ignored her. ‘I think it’s entirely possible Helena had the bracelet palmed and dropped it in your pocket. For one thing, I had noticed she didn’t want Caron to help her look through her purse for the missing passport. That was before you arrived, Christy.’
‘I wouldn’t either,’ Christy said, thrusting her chin into the air. ‘My bag is sacrosanct.’
She should be more worried about liability. I had been inside that bag.
‘But don’t …’ I’d been about to say ‘don’t you see’ again but gave it up. ‘Anyway, maybe Helena didn’t want Caron to find something in her purse.’
‘Her passport?’ Christy guessed.
I shook my head. Christy might be smart under all that craziness, but she wasn’t necessarily logical.
‘The bracelet,’ was Sarah’s dry guess.
I nodded. ‘Exactly. Then when Christy walked in, I turned back to see Helena with her hands in her pockets. I remember thinking I hoped she didn’t have a gun.’
‘But she did have my bracelet,’ Christy said, finally catching on. ‘And put it in my pocket as we fought.’
‘Or hugged,’ Sarah said, and turned to me. ‘But why would she give it back?’
I shrugged. ‘Probably afraid she was going to be caught with it. Christy’s first words when she entered were, as I recall, “Did you steal my bracelet?”’
