Dead Madonna (17 page)

“What shenanigans?” said Lew. “I didn’t mention anything about banks—did you, Doc?”

Osborne shook his head.

“What do you know about the situation with the banks, Gwen?”

“Just what Hugh told me. He took the call—Hugh, you tell ‘em what they said. And all because of one stupid girl.”

“I see,” said Lew. She paused to look down over her notes, then looked up at both Currys. “Of course, you both knew DeeDee was three months pregnant …”

Osborne didn’t even have to move his chair to get a clear view of Gwen Curry’s chipmunk eyes—they were fixed on her husband and tight with rage. He doubted Hugh noticed, however. The color had drained from the man’s face and for a fleeting moment, Osborne thought he might pass out. The hand that had shown a slight tremor before, now began to shake. Both hands were shaking.

“DeeDee pregnant?” he stammered. He shook his head in disbelief. Then he took a deep breath and sat still, his eyes staring off into the distance. Lew asked a few more perfunctory questions but she had to repeat each one, as Hugh was barely listening.

“You believe Hugh really got a call from the banks?” whispered Osborne as they walked out of the Chamber.

“Not sure. I thought Bob and I agreed they would keep things under wraps until we had all the information. But someone could have not gotten the message. Fact is, they know the banks have been alerted which is why we have to move on this ASAP.”

“You changed the subject from the banks to DeeDee pretty fast.”

“And did that ever shake somebody up. Did you see the expression on Hugh Curry’s face? He was stricken. And obviously had no clue that DeeDee was considering a lawsuit.”

“Caught Mrs. Curry off guard with that bit of news, Lew.”

“I just hope Gwen doesn’t think we know more than we do,” said Lew, keeping her voice low as they approached the cruiser. “This is frustrating, Doc. I can prove they had access to the personal data used to open the accounts but we have no proof they had anything to do with the counterfeit checks used to make the fake deposits. That’s why I need that warrant. Even if we don’t find checks, I’ll bet we find some evidence of counterfeiting—whether it’s the paper they use, the software, something. I feel sure of that.”

Opening the door and sliding under the steering wheel as Osborne got in from the other side, Lew said, “Think those two are capable of skipping town?”

Osborne gave that some thought. “Maybe … she slipped on letting you know they knew about the banks. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were on the road by midnight tonight. Poor DeeDee. Do you think she uncovered the bank scheme and that’s why—”

“Could be—which is why we need to track down Judge Richardson. If I don’t have that warrant within the hour … We have to find him. And I don’t care if that means calling all the restaurants, bars and casinos in the county.”

“He could be out fishing.”

“Not Richardson—he’s the indoor type.”

As they pulled into the parking lot, Osborne said, “Did you notice how often Curry would tune his wife out?”

“Can’t blame him—it’s her way or the highway. She doesn’t listen.”

“But she runs the show.”

“Yep. That she does. She sure does.”

C
HAPTER
22

As Osborne and Lew hurried up the stairs towards the entrance to the police department, Carrie Koronski burst through the doors and tripped down the stairs to stop in front of Lew. “Chief Ferris!” she said, out of breath and talking fast as she pushed her long, blond hair out of her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you and I know you’re really busy—but do you have a few minutes?”

“Something wrong?” said Lew. The young woman’s eyes were clouded with anxiety.

“I don’t know,” said Carrie. “Maybe. In the middle of the night last night I remembered something DeeDee said when she was really, really drunk a couple Saturdays ago. I didn’t think much about it then—but it kinda makes sense now.”

“Come on back to my office,” said Lew, pointing down the hall. “We’re busy, but not too busy to hear this. Oh,” Lew stopped and turned to look at Carrie, “were you aware that DeeDee was pregnant?”

“Kind of,” Carrie whispered.

“What do you mean ‘kind of?’” said Lew. “You can’t be ‘kind of’ pregnant.”

“She wasn’t sure when she told me.” “And when was that?”

“The night I want to tell you about.” They had reached the door to Lew’s office. She beckoned for Carrie and Osborne to enter ahead of her. “So you know, huh. Does her mom know?” Carrie’s face crumpled, her eyes glistening with tears. “Am I in trouble ‘cause I didn’t tell you? I just couldn’t with her mom there. I couldn’t—if it wasn’t for sure y’know? Juliana was already so mad at me.”

“It’s okay. You’re telling us now and that’s what’s important,” said Lew, throwing her notebook on her desk and pulling her chair back. She collapsed into it with a sigh of relief.

“Here, you take this chair, Carrie,” said Osborne, pointing to one of the two armchairs facing Lew’s desk. He glanced over at Lew to make sure she wanted him to sit in, and she gave a quick nod.

Carrie waited for Osborne to sit, too, then said, “I woke up in the middle of the night last night and remembered something that happened two Saturdays ago. Juliana and DeeDee were out that night but I stayed home.” She gave a weak smile. “Broke up with a guy I’d been seeing and didn’t feel like being around people.

“I was already in bed asleep when I heard DeeDee come in. She was banging around so much I got up to be sure she didn’t, you know, light a cigarette and leave it burning or something.”

“All that working out and she smoked?” said Osborne.

“Only when she was drinking. I told you about the beer pong contests? Sometimes she got so drunk that when she got home me and Juliana had to keep an eye on her.”

“That bad?” said Lew.

“Oh yeah—so drunk she couldn’t remember the next day how she got home.”

“So this was two weeks ago on a Saturday night?” said Osborne, jotting a note.

“Right. I wanted to get her into bed before anything bad happened but she wanted to talk. Insisted. I could tell she was furious about something and I couldn’t keep her from getting another beer either.”

“So you were trying to be the big sister,” said Lew, sympathizing.

“Yeah, sort of …” Carrie hesitated, then sighed and said, “DeeDee was complicated. She could be hard to deal with when she was drinking. Sober she was great. She could be cute and funny and really, really fun. But drunk she was like this whole other person.”

“How so exactly?” asked Lew. “And be specific, Carrie. When I asked you if DeeDee put herself at risk in any way, this is what I meant. Did she do things that could cause someone to want to hurt her? Was she belligerent when she was drinking?”

“More mean,” said Carrie. “Mean
about
people, mean
to
people. So mean that if you got in her way when she was drinking, she’d come after you.
Scary
mean is what I’m trying to say. But in the morning when you asked her if she meant what she’d said—whether it was about you or someone else—she wouldn’t remember a thing. So she certainly never apologized. I just hated her when she talked drunk. In fact, Juliana and I had been thinking of asking her to move out if she kept it up.

“See, my dad drinks a lot and he’ll act like that. I hate it. I just hate it.” The young woman’s eyes glistened as she spoke. Her hair was long and loose and every few minutes she would use both hands to shove it behind her ears. “I was starting to hate DeeDee and … and now I feel so bad about that.” Osborne tensed. The anguish twisting Carrie’s face was familiar. He’d seen that same look on his daughters’ faces and he’d hoped never to see it again.

“So that night she came home drunk …” Lew urged her on.

“Right away I could tell she was in one of those mean moods so I sat on the sofa like she asked me to and listened. To humor her, y’know. That’s when she told me Mr. Moriarty—Bert is what she called him—said he didn’t want to see her anymore, but she was ‘sure as hell gonna change his life with a big surprise.’” Carrie mimicked DeeDee’s tone.

“That’s when she told me she thought she might be pregnant. She didn’t know for sure, but she’d missed her period two months in a row.” Carrie paused.

“See, the thing about DeeDee …” Carrie tilted her head up and gazed at the ceiling as if making up her mind. “The thing I didn’t like about DeeDee was how she was about money. It was the most important thing to her. Whenever she got blasted like she was that night, she would always go on about how you have to marry money or you end up like her mom. Then she would swear that she would never end up like her mom—all alone, living paycheck to paycheck. She was a broken record about it.”

Carrie’s eyes searched Doc and Lew’s faces for approval. “You can see why I couldn’t let her mom hear something like that.”

“So she wasn’t seeing Bert any more? Did he know about the pregnancy at that time?”

“Yes. DeeDee had decided to tell him she was pregnant even though she wasn’t sure. She wanted his reaction and it really surprised her when he told her he would pay for an abortion, but he had no intention of asking his wife for a divorce, much less marrying DeeDee. Oh God, you had to see her face that night to know how furious she was. It’s when she decided to do what she did with Mr. Curry. She thought she could make Bert jealous. And if that didn’t work, she was going to convince Mr. Curry it was his baby and get him to marry her. He was infatuated with her and she knew it.”

“Really,” said Lew. “So you’re saying she was deliberately leading Hugh Curry on?”

“Talking drunk that’s what she said—and, man, she had it all planned out,” said Carrie. “To me, anyway, it seemed like the minute she thought Bert was dumping her, she just got more determined to get married. She had this evil little smile when she said it, too: ‘I don’t care who the hell it is as long as he’s rich. I’ll get married, have the baby, then get a divorce and leave with all the money.’”

“I don’t think it’s quite that easy,” said Lew.

“You couldn’t tell DeeDee that,” said Carrie. “She was convinced she could pull it off.”

“But one of the people she was working with at the Chamber told us she was planning to file a sexual harassment lawsuit against Curry,” said Osborne.

“Oh, she talked about that, too,” said Carrie. “She was going to use that for leverage, so if Curry didn’t do what she asked, she could hold that over him. She thought it was so clever that she had him wrapped around her finger—other people could see he was doing things that would appear inappropriate. What they didn’t see was her encouraging it.”

“But that man is so … so … so unattractive,” said Lew. “I find it hard to believe—”

“Money. The guy’s got ‘tons’ according to DeeDee.” Carrie gave a grandiose wave of her hand as she mimicked her roommate. According to DeeDee, she had him on his knees: “‘Do I have him roped or what?’ she’d said. ‘Right by the old schnoze.’

“But like you just said, Chief Ferris, I remember saying to her—Yea-a-h, but you still have to sleep with the guy.”

“What did she say to that?” said Lew.

“One word: ‘So?!’ But, see, the money made it okay. Don’t ask me how she knew, but she was convinced he was worth at least a million, most likely more. She told me that in one day she had watched him withdraw nearly a hundred thousand dollars from different accounts.”

“Do you think it occurred to her he might be doing something illegal?”

“No-o-o. She thought maybe he gambled.”

“Did Curry ever come to your house?”

“A couple times, but she would always step outside and see him. Except one night he scared the living daylights out of us. Our neighbor called to say there was a man standing outside DeeDee’s window. That was creepy and it scared her, too. Later she laughed it off. Most times they’d talk in his truck. At first Juliana and I assumed it was all business—but here’s what I remembered in the middle of the night last night: First it was the drunk talk about tricking Curry into marrying her. And then I remembered something else.

“It was the night before she … the night of the day before Robbie’s party. She got several calls from Mr. Curry that evening. I didn’t think too much about it at the time because there was always a flurry of phone calls from him right around one of the job fairs. The guy was fanatic about checking on stuff both before and after the event—it was always crazy. Whatever bad things I say about DeeDee, she was great at all those details and the arrangements. She really ran those job fairs.

“But I overheard one conversation. The more I try to think back, the more I remember how it made me sick to my stomach to hear her being so … so … seductive on the phone, too. Not professional. Wa-a-y too personal, y’know.”

“You’re thinking he might have been the person she met at the landing that night?” said Lew.

“Yes, I am,” Carrie nodded.

Lew jotted a few notes then stood up behind her desk. “Thank you, Carrie, I’m going to look into this right now.” In response to the look on the girl’s face, she said, “No, it’s okay. You did nothing wrong. Giving yourself time to think things over is not the same as withholding evidence. Just call me on that cell phone number I gave you if anything else comes to mind.”

C
HAPTER
23

Shotguns and bathtubs are never a good combination. That, Osborne had learned years earlier when Henry Bloomquist, the elderly dentist whose practice he had purchased, committed suicide in the family home the night before his daughter’s wedding. Colleagues pointed to mercury poisoning as a possible source of his depression, but Osborne knew better.

After discussing the patients whose care he was handing over to Osborne, the old man had invited him to the tavern across the street from the dental office. Three whiskeys into their chat, Henry was ready to unload. “I got a miserable family life, Paul,” he’d said, slamming his drink on the counter. “And I sure as hell hope it never happens to you. Got a wife and daughter who love the money and despise the old man who makes it. You oughta hear ‘em—’you don’t dress right, you drink too much, blah, blah, blah.’ Hell, they say they’re too embarrassed to go to fish fry with me.