Murder My Love (15 page)

Abby waved him away and called for Sgt Skinner. He appeared in an instant. “Where’s Kurtz?” she asked. “On patrol,” he replied.

“Call her in. She’s going on a trip with my lieutenant,” she said with an air of self-assurance. Gail arrived within minutes. The Chief dispatched Stanton and Kurtz to drive to Zephyr Cove. They were to secure separate rooms in a motel in an adjacent town. They were to spend their time trying to discover who was Rita. They were not to make an arrest, as they had no jurisdiction, nor were they to alert the local police. Wilson told them to start by tracking down the hairdresser. His name was unknown, but she reasoned there couldn’t be more than one gay hairdresser in a remote small town. While they were away she would work with the Court to prepare warrants for arrest. She reminded them that it would be the Sheriff who would arrest and incarcerate the suspects until the formalities were completed for the Orders of Extradition.

“Separate rooms, Chief?” Stanton asked with a broad smile.

Raising her eyebrow, Wilson replied, “You are joking, aren’t you?”

Kurtz chimed in, “Don’t get your hopes up or whatever else gets up.”

They all laughed as the twosome left her office.

Wilson again called Greg Rocklein. At the beginning of the investigation she hadn’t called him at all. Now that so much progress had been made, she was briefing him with every development. She told him what Stanton had discovered. She listened to his response then added, “I believe we know where they came from. I’m sending a team to snoop around.”

Rocklein reinforced the fact that her team was out of its jurisdiction. She assured him that she knew that, and had advised them accordingly. She told him that her team would be in civilian clothes and that their primary responsibility was to discover the whereabouts of a woman whose first name was Rita and a gay hairdresser whose name was unknown.

Rocklein suggested that Abby notify Judge Edward McGourty, as it would be within his provenance to issue a warrant for the arrest of suspects in another state.

Chapter 16

Jeff and Gail were bursting with anticipation. They were delighted to have been chosen for such a critical job. For Gail, it was an assignment that any rookie cop could ever have hoped for. Monitoring traffic and acting as referee in domestic disputes was getting tiresome. She knew that the only reason she was assigned to the team was because one of the alleged perpetrators was a woman. It was her good fortune that her senior female counterpart was out on maternity leave. It didn’t matter. For a change, her gender was an asset. She was on the team that was tracking the killers responsible for one of West Warwick’s most notorious felonies, and that alone made the mission immensely satisfying. Jeff also anticipated the notoriety. He was the most senior officer and had tenure. He would have been beside himself had anyone else been chosen for the task.

Stanton arrived at Gail’s apartment at 9 A.M. on Tuesday morning. She brought along a small overnight bag, threw it in the back seat and jumped in on the passenger side of the unmarked vehicle. Neither was in uniform, both dressed casually. She wore jeans, tennis shoes and a blouse. He was in khaki pants, loafers, and a plain blue tee shirt. Jeff took notice of her trim figure. The contours of her blouse did not go unnoticed. She was a far cry more feminine than in the camouflage of a police uniform.

Having fought traffic like civilian drivers, unlike police responding to a call, they eventually reached Interstate 91 and drove north for about three hours. When they reached the Massachusetts/Vermont border, they stopped for lunch at a roadside diner. Despite their disparity in age, they behaved as if they were a married couple. They sat opposite each other in a booth, he looked at her closely for the first time, took notice of her mellow brown eyes. They seemed alive and transparent, as though he could see through them into a deep well. Her skin was smooth and her mouth inviting. She had tied her auburn hair in a twist. The strands of red in it appeared to his eye, to be natural but, being a man, he was unsure. She wore no jewelry, only a Timex wristwatch. He knew she was in her mid twenties but appeared to be much younger. Halfway through lunch, as he was sipping his second cup of coffee, Jeff asked, “So, why did you become a cop?”

Gail told him that she came from a small town in New Hampshire. She saw no future in that town. When she was eighteen years old she joined the Navy just to get away. Her first billet was at the Great Lakes Naval Air Station in Michigan for indoctrination. The preliminary exams revealed that she had an aptitude for sonar and radar. After one stint at China Lake in California, she spent the remainder of her four years of service at a base in Sicily. She decided she’d seen enough of the world to know what she valued. Jeff took another sip of coffee and repeated his question.

“I don’t know,” she said. “There was no job in civilian life that would utilize my military training. I could have tried to be an air traffic controller, but the thought of being in a darkened room all day was more than I could handle. I came to West Warwick for an interview, thinking I’d go to college but the tuition was way more than I could afford. I liked the town, so I took the Civil Service Exam and was accepted as a rookie cop. Here I am. End of story.”

“So you ran away from a small town to settle in a small town.”

“Crazy, ain’t it?” she said with a wry smile.

They left the diner and drove another two hours. The Alpine Lodge caught their eye. It appeared to be clean and well kept. When they checked in, the desk clerk asked if they wanted a queen or king size bed. Gail replied that they wanted separate rooms. The desk clerk had the courtesy not to inquire any further. He gave them each a magnetic card to swipe to enter their rooms. They freshened up, and later ate their dinner at the lodge while sharing a bottle of red wine. After the last drop was downed they moved to the far end of the bar and lingered, enjoying after-dinner drinks. Gail had a single malt scotch and Jeff ordered a brandy. As she mellowed and became more comfortable, she asked, “How come you’re not married?” It was nervy, but the ice had been broken.

“Tried it once. It didn’t work out.”

Gail did not pursue that line of conversation. A few sips later Jeff offered, “I’m not gay, if that’s what your thinking.”

“Never entered my mind,” she said as she giggled.

“Sure it did. Every single guy my age is either divorced or gay. Isn’t that what the ladies think?”

“I’m not a lady,” Gail cooed as she continued to giggle.

“I never met a broad who giggled so much.”

Pointing to her glass, she smiled at him and said she had to go to bed. He did not try to dissuade her. They agreed on a time to meet the next morning and laid out a plan for locating their prey.

Soon after breakfast they drove into Zephyr Cove. Their first stop was a gas station. Jeff got out of the car and filled the tank. Entering the convenience store to pay his bill, he engaged the clerk in casual conversation. He told him they were on their way to Stowe. He asked the clerk how far away it was. The clerk reminded Jeff that the skiing season had long passed. That fact was acknowledged. He told the clerk they were attending a party and his girl friend wanted her hair done before their arrival. She didn’t want to pay the premium price at a resort.

“I hear ya,” the clerk said. “Ain’t a woman alive who’s not in love with her hair.”

“Can you help me out?”

“There’s a guy in town who does hair. Ladies say he’s pretty good at it.”

Jeff felt he’d hit pay dirt on the first try. “What’s his name?”

“Conrad. But everyone calls him Connie.” As he mentioned his nickname the clerk wiggled his hand in a derisive manner. He snickered and added, “Fruitcake, but he’s harmless.” He proceeded to give Stanton directions to the general store, where the salon was located.

Jeff thanked him for the tip and assured him he would stop by to fill-up on his return trip. He lazily ambled to the car, opened the door, got in and screamed, “Jackpot!” They drove to the salon and were immediately disappointed. There was a sign posted in the window displaying the store hours. It wouldn’t be open until noon, not for another two hours. They occupied the time by driving around town, assessing the lay of the land. They drove several miles up and down each end of the highway leading to town. Two hours could not have passed more slowly. Unknowingly, they drove past Frieda’s house, Conrad’s home. They returned to the salon, parked the car and waited for it to open. Jeff tried to engage Gail in polite conversation to while away the time. Since the day of the crime, he had a question that he wanted to ask Gail. Now that he had bonded with her on a social level, it seemed as good a time as any. “You remember the crime scene?” he began.

“Of course. Who could forget it?”

“Me and Devlin took a walk while you stayed with the Chief. You were a rock, like Mona Lisa, no emotion. How come?”

Gail searched inwardly to answer him. She collected herself, swallowed and began, “We were stationed at an Air Facility near Salerno. During my tour, I had the misfortune of reporting the loss of a couple of planes that fell off the radar screen. They obviously went down at sea. They sent destroyers out to search for them. Both times they brought back body parts that had been floating in the Mediterranean. A bunch of us sailors, mostly the guys from sonar, gathered at the pier waiting for the ship to return. We saw them place the remains on a gurney. Corpsmen wheeled it into sickbay. There were a lot of tears. When you see something like that, nothing else fazes you.”

Jeff had nothing to say for an awkwardly long time. At last, he broke the silence, “Nightmares?”

“Sometimes.”

The remainder of time spent waiting for Conrad was in silence.

A few minutes past noon they saw a man enter the general store. They presumed it was Conrad. They lingered for a few more minutes and entered together.

Gail approached Conrad and asked if he could wash and set her hair. He was happy to accommodate her. She sat at his sink and leaned her head back into the cut out. He wrapped her shoulders in towels and began to spray water over her head. “Your not from around here, are you?” he asked.

“No, we’re on our way to an engagement party in Stowe. I didn’t have time to fix myself up.”

They continued to exchange light conversation. He talked about the town. She talked about the people they were visiting. Jeff remained seated looking bored, as any real husband might. He pretended to read magazines, all the while paying strict attention to body language. He also looked carefully at Conrad’s license, hung in a frame in clear view. He saw that his last name was Zimmer. When Conrad began to blowout and comb Gail’s hair, he asked the fateful question. “So, where are you guys from?”

“West Warwick,” she said, blandly without a trace of emotion.

Conrad dropped his comb and hair dryer. He began to tremble.

“What’s the matter, Conrad?” Gail inquired calmly, in the same tone as she announced the name of the town. Conrad tried to recover. He picked up his implements and continued to style Gail’s hair. “Oh, nothing. I knew someone who lived there.”

‘Really?” she asked. “Who?”

At that point Conrad’s hands were useless. His body shook as if he were having an epileptic seizure. He stammered to the extent that words were unintelligible. Gail stood up from her chair and grabbed him by the shoulders. She spoke to him as a mother would to an injured child. She became solicitous with a soothing voice. “What’s wrong with you? Calm down. I won’t bite you.”

Conrad attributed his behavior to just being nervous. He said that he was nervous with every new customer. He put down his styling equipment and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it slowly and said he felt much better.

“Who did you know? Was it a guy or a gal?”

Conrad had no avenue of escape. He didn’t know who these people were. Perhaps it was a weird coincidence that a couple from West Warwick happened to be passing through. There really was no reason to be suspicious. They looked like they could be like any couple passing through town. It was just a coincidence he told himself over and over, trying to calm down. He had concocted no plan, no story that would plausibly distance the woman who once lived nearby, Linda, from the friend who remained in town.

“Linda Greenwell. She used to live around here,” he blurted.

Gail and Jeff did everything in their power to maintain an air of nonchalance. They avoided eye contact. Jeff quietly placed the magazine he was reading on the table in front of him and looked away from the hairdresser’s chair. Gail broke the silence. “I don’t know her. Heard about her. A friend of mine told me she worked at the hospital and helped his father-in-law with his diet. He said she was very nice.”

“Yeah. Everyone around here liked her.”

Conrad felt relieved. He almost sighed but stifled it. His customer did nothing out of the ordinary. She said nothing about the murder. He now felt confident that this was a chance meeting.

When Conrad had finished, Gail looked in the mirror, turning her head from side to side, admiring her new hair-do, as any legitimate customer would do. She complimented Conrad on a splendid job. She said she looked forward to seeing the reaction of the guests at the party. She paid her bill and thanked Conrad profusely. She gave him a generous tip but he refused it. He said it was a pleasure to meet her and that a customer’s first visit required nothing extra.

Gail turned to Jeff and announced, “We can go now.”

“Alleluia!” he cried maintaining the ruse of an aggrieved husband.

They entered the car and drove about a mile without saying a word. When they felt they were far enough outside of town, they screamed, then laughed, and pounded their fists on the steering wheel and dashboard.

“Too easy,” Gail said. “I know we were looking for a short guy but I don’t think he’s an inch over five feet,” she added.

Jeff teased, “Were you planning on making a play for him?”

Gail punched him on his arm. She laughed harder. They drove into a gas station and walked directly to its telephone booth. Jeff grabbed the phone book and ran his index finger down the names of all the residents until he found the only one with a first name of Rita beside it. Her surname was Quigley. He continued to the end of the alphabet and found Zimmer with Freida beside it. They wrote down their addresses and to avoid suspicion drove past each house at normal speed without lingering.

“Let’s head back to the House,” he said. “We got ‘em by the balls!”

They drove the long trip home without stopping for lunch. They couldn’t wait to tell the Chief in person what they had discovered. There was no way they would brief her over the phone and not witness her reaction. When they entered the police station they were still in civilian clothes, except that their badges were in prominent display. Skinner had seen them exiting their car and buzzed the door lock allowing them to quickly enter. There were broad smiles on both their faces. Skinner took one look at them and said, “You look like you both got laid.” Jeff grabbed his arm, put his mouth near his ear and said, “Better!”

Gail could not contain herself. She blurted, “We found them.”

Within minutes there was murmuring throughout the stationhouse. Wilson heard the commotion and came out of her office to see what it was all about.

All she needed was to see the faces of her two ratty looking officers in rumpled clothes to know that the beginning of the end was near.

Wilson sat them down in her office and relished every word of their debriefing. “Excellent work!” She repeated herself several times before dismissing them. She advised them to take a couple of days off.

Jeff and Gail thanked her for the time off and left the stationhouse. They no sooner exited her office than Wilson called Rocklein. “Greg,” she said. “We found them.”

“Congratulations!” he said and without missing a beat added, “We’ve got a holiday weekend coming up. You’d better get to McGourty before he calls a recess. He’s a stickler for protocol, but he’ll work with you.”

“Thanks for the advice.” She hung up the phone, leaned back in her chair and stretched with her hands behind her head. The next call was to the courthouse.