Violet crossed her arms. “I just found out that the woman who was going to buy that piece of property, her name is Camille Borden, and put a museum on it was murdered recently,” she said. “Can’t say that I’m sorry. Everybody around here knows how I feel about that property being developed. I’m just glad I’ve got an alibi for the time when she was murdered. I understand she was murdered about noon.”
“Yes, given your public thoughts and comments, I can see where you would be happy that you have a solid alibi.”
Violet gave Marty a smug nod. “You see, I’m on the board of The Desert Tortoise Conservancy, and we were having a luncheon meeting. The meeting started about 11:00 a.m. on the day Camille was murdered and lasted into the late afternoon. Actually, it was a pretty contentious meeting. We were discussing where we’re going to build our offices as well as the teaching room and everything else.
“It will have to be a fairly large building to house all the things we have planned. Several of our members, me included, don’t believe in building on any land that has desert life on it, however, there were a few who thought the good we would do would outweigh the toll on the ecosystem. I disagree.”
“So do I. As a matter of fact, I’d like to write a check to your organization. I think what you’re doing is good, and it’s a cause I believe in.” Marty took her checkbook out of her purse and quickly wrote out a check and handed it to her. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. I won’t take up anymore of your lunch hour.”
“It’s I who should thank you,” Violet said, following her out, waving the check. “What we do for the desert tortoises is the most important work in the world. All they have is us. You’re welcome at The Desert Tortoise Conservancy meetings any time, my dear.”
As Marty pulled out of the parking lot she remembered words she’d learned when she was studying French many years ago, and she thought they were very applicable in this case. The French have a saying, “raison d’etre,” which means that something was someone’s reason or justification for existence. She decided that the phrase definitely applied to the Tortoise Lady.
The more she mulled it over, the more she decided that Jeff should know about the woman’s alibi. If it were true, and Jeff could probably find out easily enough, it would eliminate another person of interest.
She pulled over to the side of the road and called him. A moment later she heard his voice, “Hello, my love. How’s my favorite appraiser?”
“Doing well. I just stopped by Violet Smythe’s Tortoise Home, and I thought you’d be interested in what she told me. Here’s what she said.” She told him about her conversation with Violet and then said, “I would imagine her alibi would be pretty easy to verify and that would eliminate her as a possible suspect.”
“I won’t give you a lecture, Marty, about why in the world you went by yourself to interview a possible murder suspect, and I don’t even want to know why you thought you should go there, but it’s over and done. Actually, I’ve pretty much eliminated another suspect, and one that will make you happy.”
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“The chairman of the Whitewater River tribe, Adam Navarro.”
“That’s great, but I thought you were high on him after the coroner called last night.”
“I was, but I spent an hour today with one of the policemen here at the station who’s half Native American. He gave me a great overview about why an arrow would probably not have been used in Camille’s murder. He also knows Adam well and said there was no way he would have done it. After I talked to him, I believed him.”
“So now what?”
“Well, I decided that Marc Katz might bear a little closer scrutiny. I still haven’t decided exactly what I’m going to do about Camille’s son and daughter-in-law. I finally had a chance to talk with him. He was devastated and said he wanted to go over to his mother’s house this afternoon and pick up a few things that were valuable, because he was worried about theft, and he was going to get everything anyway. He was using the excuse that people would find out his mother had been murdered and think that since she was rich, someone might break into the house and try to steal something.”
“Did you tell him his mother had expressly disinherited him?” Marty imagined that wouldn’t have gone down well.
“No, I’m still trying to get in touch with the law firm in Los Angeles who handled Camille’s trust. I did find out that the attorney who came to her home when she signed her trust is deceased. Before I shoot my mouth off and tell him he’s been disinherited, I want to make sure there isn’t another trust that would be newer than this one.”
“So, what did you tell him?”
“I told Austin that his mother’s home was considered to be an active crime scene, and nothing could be removed from it. I told him I was authorizing private security to be at the house around the clock to make sure there weren’t any trespassers. They’ll probably be at the house when you get there in a little while. I called the housekeeper, Emma, on her cell phone and told her to expect them. She was fine with it and thought it was a good idea. She’d been worried that Austin might try to take some things out of the house, like his mother’ jewelry.”
“Well, I suppose the good news is that you’re paring down the list of suspects…”
Jeff interrupted and said, “Marty I’ve got another call. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”
CHAPTER 23
“This is Detective Combs.” He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone for a moment and then said, “Joseph, now would be fine. I’m very anxious to hear what you found out.”
Five minutes later there was a knock on Jeff’s door. “Come in,” he said.
Officer Montoya entered Jeff’s office and took a seat across from his desk. “I think you’re going to be happy with what I found out about Marc Katz and Adam Navarro.”
Jeff grinned. “I always like it when I’m working on a case and a conversation starts out that way. Let’s hear it.”
“I called a good friend of mine who’s a member of the Whitewater River tribe. I didn’t tell him anything about the case or your suspicions about Adam Navarro. I just said my wife and I had been talking about the need to keep in touch with friends and how that can get lost between work and family obligations. I told him he was on my list, and I wondered what was happening on the reservation.
“My friend talked about the fact that the tribe was pretty excited about the possibility of buying some land and opening a casino. He said it would really be a relief not to have to scrimp and save just to buy groceries. Here’s the interesting part, sir. He told me he and Adam go to Costco once a month to buy food in bulk quantities for the tribal members who simply don’t have the means to buy their own.
“He said the last time they were there, he kept thinking that maybe they wouldn’t have to make the trip into Palm Springs many more times to go to Costco. He said once the casino is built, there would probably be enough money for the families to buy their groceries at stores much closer to the reservation. Sir, they were at Costco at the time Camille Borden was murdered. He volunteered the information, and I consider that to be a valid alibi for Adam. What do you think?”
“I agree with you,” Jeff said. “That also explains what the little boy at the reservation told my wife, Marty, about Adam being gone from the reservation the day Camille Borden was murdered. From what you’re telling me, there was an innocent explanation. He was at Costco and couldn’t have committed the murder.
“However, there are still two things that aren’t in Adam’s favor. Number one, he’s a Native American and as such has an association with bows and arrows. I’m sorry for that presumption, but I’m sure you see why there was a leap to a conclusion that the killer might be a Native American. Secondly, the tribe had a lot to gain from Camille’s death. In other words, when her escrow fell through, the tribe was the next in line.”
“I would think that my friend’s alibi for Adam would override those two thi
ngs.”
“Yes, Joseph, I agree. Based on what you said earlier about Adam and the fact he has a solid alibi, I not going to consider him to be a person of interest any longer. Were you able to find out anything about Marc Katz?”
“I don’t want to get into this too deep, so I hope you respect what I’m going to say. A couple of years ago I attended a law enforcement conference in Chicago. I wanted to go because I have some relatives there, and a large part of the conference is about building rapport among officers throughout the country. The thinking was that many times an officer needs help or information beyond the jurisdiction or state where they work.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of that conference, and it’s on my list of things I want to do. I’ve certainly gotten help from people outside my jurisdiction. How does this fit in with Marc Katz?”
“As part of the conference requirements, we were to stay at a certain hotel and given a roommate from another part of the country, the hope being that we would develop some sort of camaraderie with each other.”
“I’m taking it you did just that,” Jeff said.
“Yes sir. My roommate was a man by the name of Ray Ritacco. He was with the Chicago police force, and his area of expertise was the Mafia. He was very close to several other policemen throughout the United States who also were knowledgeable regarding Mafia affairs.”
“Interesting. I didn’t know there was a network of them throughout the United States,” Jeff said.
“Well, there is. I called him and explained why I needed information on Marc Katz. He was familiar with the name. Marc is not a member of the Mafia, but he has deep family ties to it. His wife is the niece of one of the heads of the Chicago Mafia. Marc’s investors are all men who have ties to the Mafia.”
“All right. That makes sense, but could you put him or any of the men he’s involved with at the scene of the crime?”
“No, but I got very, very lucky. My friend has a mole in the Mafia who feeds him information. He called him, and the mole told Ray that he was sent to Palm Springs to help Marc get rid of Camille Borden, so the investors could go ahead with the mega resort they wanted built. Two interesting things happened. Turns out there was a series of freak storms in the Chicago area with a number of tornados. O’Hare, Midway, and every other airport in the region was closed for fourteen hours.
“Ray’s mole couldn’t get to Palm Springs. Marc called and told them that Camille Borden had been murdered, but not by him. By the way, the mega resort is not going to happen. When the boys in Chicago found out that the tribe had the property in escrow, they were furious that Marc had missed the opportunity, because the earnest money had been delivered to him well before she was murdered. I think Mr. Katz may very well be on a plane to somewhere out of the country right about now to protect his health, if you know what I mean.”
Jeff put a hand on his forehead and rubbed it. “Nice job, Joseph. You’ve saved me a lot of legwork, plus you’ve effectively gotten rid of two possible suspects. That pretty much leaves Austin Phillips and his wife, Leticia. Of course, there’s always the chance it was a random murder, and those are the hardest to solve. I need to figure out what my next step is going to be. Again, thanks, and if you hear anything having to do with the case, I can obviously use all the help I can get.”
As Joseph left the office he looked back at Jeff, who was deep in thought. So deep that he didn’t realize the young policeman had left his office.
CHAPTER 24
Carl was waiting in front of his shop when Marty pulled up. “Great timing,” he said to her through the open window of her car. “I just walked out the door. Hate to leave when I have customers in the shop, but this should be an interesting appraisal. Would you please pop the trunk? I’ll put my appraisal stuff in there.”
As he got in the car, he said, “Marty, I have to tell you I really don’t like to do appraisals of dead people’s things, especially if that person was murdered. Makes me feel kind of queasy, and I’m always worried whoever did it forgot something and is going to come back.”
When he was seated, he turned around and said, “Well, big boy. Don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. What’s your name?”
“His name is Patron.” Marty put the car in drive. “He was named after the brand of tequila by the same name. Laura, your favorite person, thinks he has some psychic abilities based on the Melissa Ross murder. He sure helped us in that case.”
“Marty, that certainly doesn’t help to calm my nervous stomach.” Carl put his right hand on his middle for effect. “If Laura thinks the dog is psychic, that really worries me. He probably is. Let’s hope we don’t need to use his psychic abilities today,” he said as he petted the big dog’s head with his other hand.
“Looks like the psychic dog has accepted you. That’s a good sign.” Marty gave him a reassuring smile. “When he senses something is wrong, he barks and growls. Laura’s about the only one who can calm him down. Anyway, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. We should be fine, but I’ll make you a deal. Since we suspect Patron is psychic, why don’t I have him with me the first two hours and then you take him the next two hours. That way, if he senses anything, one of us will know, plus he’s good protection. Okay with you?” Marty asked as she glanced over at Carl to get his reaction.
“I think I’d like that, and yes, it would make me feel better. On one hand I’m really looking forward to having a chance to appraise items that are similar to what I collect. On the other hand, as I’ve said, doing appraisals for dead people is not a real upper.”
“I hear you,” Marty said as she turned into the long driveway of Camille Borden’s home. They got their appraisal gear out of the trunk and walked up to the door. Emma had heard them coming and was waiting for them, the door open.
“Emma, this is my dog, Patron. He’s going to be with us today. My husband feels a little better knowing that he’s around when there’s been a murder. I hope you don’t mind. Before we get started, how did the ultrasound on your daughter go this morning?”
“I don’t mind at all,” Emma said as she stooped down and petted the big dog. “Patron, I think you’re in luck. Ms. Borden kept a big jar of treats for her dogs in the kitchen. If Ms. Morgan says it’s okay with her, I could probably be persuaded to give you a couple.” She stood up and looked at Marty, smiling broadly. “My granddaughter looks like she’s perfect,” she said as she wiped away a tear of happiness.
“That’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you. And as far as the treats for Patron, we’ll definitely take you up on that, but I want to get going on the appraisal first. Carl, I’m going to start in the living room. I’ll bring Patron to you in a couple of hours. See you in a little while.”
“Sir, if you would like anything, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Emma said. “I don’t have the air conditioner on in the house, because it seems to be very pleasant in here, but if the garage feels too warm, there’s a control in there. Feel free to turn it on.”
“Thanks, Emma. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Marty and Carl spent the next two hours appraising the items in their individual areas of expertise. Patron was content to stay near Marty and sleep. The only sound in the house was the faint sound of music coming from a radio in the kitchen.
At three o’clock, Marty stretched and said, “Patron, we need to see how Carl’s doing. I want you to stay with him for a while. Okay?”
As if he understood exactly what she’d just asked him, he stood up and started to walk out of the living room. Marty had started the appraisal there and figured she’d be lucky to get the items in that room finished by tomorrow afternoon, and there were several more rooms to do.
“C’mon Patron. I need a drink of water, and then we’ll go see Carl.” He followed her down the hall to the kitchen. “Hi, Emma. We’ve come to take you up on your offer of a couple of dog treats for Patron.”
“Here you go, big boy,” Emma said as she put two treats on the floor. Patron looked up at her
, licked her hand, and then began to eat the treats. “What great manners. A lot of people could take lessons from that dog.” She took a bottle of cold water out of the refrigerator and poured it into a glass for Marty.
“Thanks Emma. Why don’t you give me another bottle of water, and I’ll take it to Carl? He’s probably getting a little thirsty about now. Okay, Patron, time to hand you off to Carl. He needs some company. Let’s go.” They walked down the hall to the door leading to the garage. Marty opened it, saw Carl, and said, “As promised. He’s all yours. He’ll keep all the bogeymen at bay. How’s it going?”
“It’s going well, it’s just that I’m a little overwhelmed. There’s so much stuff. She must have been buying several things a day, at a minimum, as well as some full collection, to have this many items. Is there such a thing as a collectaholic? When I finish with the arrowheads and spurs, I’ll tackle the guns and knives. I know it’s silly, but I kind of wanted the big guy in here when I did those,” Carl said as he shuddered.
“I fail to see why that would make you feel better, but each to his own. I don’t think he’s ever seen a weapon other than Jeff’s gun, so don’t expect much.”
“Sorry to be such a scaredy cat, and I have no idea why I feel this way, but I do. What time do you want to leave? I’d kind of like to get back a few minutes before my store closes, so I can talk to my assistant and see what happened while I was gone.”
Marty checked her watch. “Let’s plan on leaving at 4:30. Does that work for you?”
“Sure does, and I’m glad we didn’t start out with a full day of this. Now that I know how much is involved, I’ll pass on any television binge-watching tonight and get a good night’s sleep, so I’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
“See you later,” Marty said as she walked out of the garage and went back to resume appraising the paintings and the pottery that she’d been working on in the living room.
Murder and the Museum Page 10
