Marcie's Murder (19 page)

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Authors: Michael J. McCann

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Maraya21

BOOK: Marcie's Murder
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“It could fit,” Karen said. “He suspects she’s been messing around and he roughs her up a few times, trying to force the truth out of her. Then when she finally admits she’s pregnant, he flips and strangles her.”

“I still say it’s bullshit. I don’t care what the percentages
are
. I know Billy Askew and he wouldn’t do this. He’s a good man.”

“We’re going nowhere,” Branham
said
. “We need to focus.”

“You need
to
look at the victim
,” Hank told him. “You need to know who she was seeing over the last six months.
You need to confirm who it was she was having the affair with, whether anyone can verify that she and Askew were fighting, all of it. Are you certain he was sterile?”

“Yeah, I’m certain
. It was the talk of the town for a while.
Their little girl had died, they were
arguing all the time
, blaming each other the way parents often do when they lose their only child
. They couldn’t
have any more
kids
.
Lucy was a difficult pregnancy and Marcie needed some kind of surgery. I don’t know any of the particulars, just that Lucy was it for them.
If
Marcie got pregnant again it might
kill her
.
Then Billy had a
n
affair, they had a fight in public about it, he promised to make it up to her. Had a vasectomy, stopped drinking, stayed away from other women, everything.
That
was eight years ago. Since then he’s been like a servant to her. Her wish was his command. He bought the store for her, set her up in business, paid all her debts, humored her every whim.”

“Store?” Hank asked.

“Well, gallery, actually. It was a shoe store that went out of business. Billy bought the building
,
and she opened an art gallery in it. Bought and sold stuff from local artists.”

“Money down the toilet,” Hall said. “There
isn’t
much
artistic
talent around her
e
. He lost a lot of money on it.”

“So maybe he resented it,” Karen suggested.

“No,” Branham said, “just the opposite. He was very proud of
her
. Every year he
held
her birthday party in the gallery. Invited the entire town. He paid
every one of her
bills with a smile on his face.”

“Well, I don’t know about any of that,” Karen said. “I just know that nine times out of ten it’s the husband.”


Or b
oyfriend,” Hall said.

Voices were raised outside the office and Mollie Roberts, the dispatcher, edged past Karen in the doorway to look at Branham.

“It’s His Worship,” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
“He’s asking for you.”

“Oh, God.” Branham rubbed his forehead and stood up. “Excuse me for a minute.”

Karen
put away her notebook
. Hank
pushed away from
the filing cabinet
. A
s he reached the door
,
Karen glanced up at him.

“This should be interesting.”

“What can I do for you, Pre
ss
?” Branham said. He held out his hand to a short, skinny man who stood in the middle of the office with his hands on his hips, frowning at everyone. He wore a beige windbreaker over a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, dark brown trousers
,
and brown suede shoes with thick laces. His head
was as smooth as a light bulb
except for a fringe of
gray
that ran around the base of his skull from ear to ear
.

Presley Blankenship owned the drug store in
Harmony
. He had the fussy caution of a pharmacist who knew his trade back
ward
and front, along with a strong business sense that had translated into the ownership of several valuable properties in town. He

d originally run for mayor to oppose property tax hikes and ended up being re
-
elected as a result of his
op
position
to
the
expansion of town boundaries.
He managed the town’s bottom line the way he managed his own, carefully and with full attention to detail. He was a good enough public speaker to get by, but had no discernible sense of humor. He had a small circle of friends and made no effort to expand it, but his no-nonsense approach to civic polit
ics drew supporters like flies.

He
shook Branham’s hand. “I just spoke to Donnie Hatfield. He tells me you’re in charge of the investigation of Marcie’s murder, that Billy’s been
recused or whatever it’s called.”

“He’s agreed to withdraw from the case
.

“Just as well
.
I’ve got a press conference in an hour. Do you
know how long it’s been since
someone was
murdered
in this
municipality
? We’ve got a lot of nervous and upset people on our hands. We need to be able to say the right things to them.”

Askew’s door opened. Everyone
turned to
watch him walk across the floor to the mayor.

“Sorry for your loss,” Blankenship said, shaking his hand.

“I heard you say something about a news conference.”

“In an hour. I want Branham here available to answer questions in
case there are any I can’t answer myself
.
Hatfield’
s going to answer specific questions about the thing, but I want Branham
there
just in case
.”

“He don’t need to go,” Askew said curtly. “I’ll be there.”

“No,” Blankenship replied, “you won’t.

“Yes, I will. It’s my job.” Askew put his hands on his hips.

“Donnie said you’ve been taken off the case. He’s half a mind just to turn it over to the
s
heriff and be done with it. Don’t make this harder than it already is, Billy.”

Askew took his hands off his hips and spread his arms wide. “Everybody’s just laying down the roadblocks, aren’t they? Just hate to see me nail the fucking bastard who did this.”

“That’s not it at all
and you know it. You’re too close to this thing. In fact, as of right now you’re on administrative leave until
it’s
cleared up. I don’t want you to have any burden of responsibility while you’re trying to deal with the loss of your wife.”

“Administrative l
eave?” Askew took a step forward
. “What the
hell
you talking about?”

Blankenship
refused
t
o
give ground. “I’m talking about you going home and letting your man here do this thing for you. Full pay. Just go home, Billy. Get some space.”

“I don’t need any fucking space! I need people to support me and watch my back, not cut me off at the fucking knees!”

“Nobody’s cutting you off at the knees. Go home, Billy.”

Askew went back into his office
,
slamm
ing
the door so hard the clock fell off the wall onto the top of
the
filing cabinet.

“Like I was saying,” Blankenship said to Branham without missing a beat, “we’ve got
the Bluefield
Daily News
, the Roanoke
Times
,” ticking them off on his fingers, “the Richlands
Weekly Reporter
, WBBS
,
and WRPA
all
sending
people
. I
understand
you
arrested
some out-
of
-towner right after
the murder
by mistake and then had to let him go
.
Hopefully he’s long gone by now. We don’t need that kind of complication.

“That would be Lieutenant Donaghue here,” Branham said, gesturing to Hank. “He and Detective Stainer
are
experienced homicide investigators from Maryland
. They’ve
agreed to assist our investigation.”

“Have they, now?” He
looked
at Hank and mentally s
hifted gears. “I’m Mayor Pres
ley Blankenship, Lieutenant,” he said, shaking Hank’s hand. He
reached out with both hands to shake
Karen’s hand
. “Detective
.
Glad to have you on board. ‘Assisting the investigation.’ Can I say that?
S
ounds good. We
’ll
skip the mistakenly arrested part.
I guess we owe you an apology for that. My office’ll have a
n official
letter ready for me to sign real soon
, rest assured
.

He turned back to
Branham.

Got
any
other suspects
in mind
?”

“We’re questioning several people,” Branham said carefully, “but at this point it’d be best to say the investigation’s proceeding and we’re confident it’ll be successfully concluded in the near future.”


S
ounds all right.” Blankenship looked at Hank and Karen. “Glad to meet you, and thanks for the help. Branham, let’s go back to my office and sit down with Donnie. We can go over our notes, make sure we’re all singing off the same page of the hymn book.”

“We need to question Askew right
now
,” Hank told Branham
.

W
e
need
to get started on the victimology.
Is there
a problem with that
?

Branham hesitated for a moment. “No,” he said finally, “just have Hall with you.”

“All right.”

When
the room cleared
Hank explained to Hall what they needed to do. Reluctantly the detective knocked on Askew’s door.
When there was no answer he cracked it open and stuck his head in.

“Chief, can we talk to you for a minute?”

“Fuck off, Hall.”

Hank, standing behind the detective, reached out and pushed the door open. “We need a few answers, Askew. It won’t take a lot of your time.”

Askew rolled his lower lip under his upper teeth. Hank saw he was going to say
Fuck off, Donaghue
,
but thought better of it and swallowed the words. Hank
looked at Karen with a warning in his eyes before
push
ing
past Hall
into the office.
Askew had turned sideways at his desk and was staring out the window as they filed in. Karen dropped into one of the visitor’s chairs. Hank went over and leaned against the wall next to the window. Hall stood uncomfortably in the doorway.

“Have you heard
from
the autopsy?”
the
c
hief asked quietly.

Hank understood that although Askew kept his eyes on the window he was talking to Hall, so he waited. When it was obvious that the detective was not going to answer,
Hank
said “we’ve heard.”

Askew shifted his eyes to Hank. “And?”

“The COD is asphyxiation from manual strangulation. TOD is 11:20
p.m.
to midnight.”

“And? What else?”


You
need to
answer
a couple of
important
questions.”

Askew stared at Hank
now
as though daring him to go ahead and ask them.
No doubt he was thinking back to the moment not all that long ago when he’d had Hank in his grasp and had beat
en
the living tar out of him. Now their roles were about to reverse and
Askew
didn’t like it.
H
e licked his lips and swung his eyes back to the window. “Ask them.”

“How would you describe your relationship with your wife?”

Askew let the question hang in the air for a long time. Finally he lifted a shoulder and dropped it again. “Not the best. Been a long time since we were real close.”

“Quarrels? Arguments? Fights?”

Askew shook his head. “Not for a long time. Years ago, yeah
,
w
e had our
brawls like any other couple, but that was a long time ago. I learn
ed it didn’t solve a damn thing
.”

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