Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 6) (30 page)

Chapter 16

T
he next morning, Carter and I arrived at the funeral home by 10:00 a.m. to find Kristina standing by the open casket, quietly talking with a young couple. The same young couple who’d attended the swing party Saturday night.

It wasn’t a large gathering - about fifty people. How many were close friends or colleagues of Julian’s? If any of them weren’t aware of his sexual demons before, they were now.

As we made our way through the crowd, heading toward the casket, I told Carter that I’d like to speak to Kristina privately. He was fine with it, told me he’d try and mingle with the crowd.

I caught Kristina’s eye, and she smiled. “I was wondering if you’d show up,” she said.

I couldn’t pry my eyes away from Julian. He looked like a handsome figure from a wax museum. “I wasn’t expecting an open casket.”

“They made him look good.” She made a swooping motion with her hand. “The magic of make-up. Hope I look as elegant when I’m dead.”

Her tone was lighthearted, but I sensed an underlying melancholy. “How are you holding up?” I asked.

She kept her eyes on Julian and simply shook her head as her finger traced the edge of the casket. “It’s weird.”

“I have to give you props for setting this up so quickly.”

“Since Julian and I don’t have much family, there was no point in waiting.” She laughed quietly. “I’m sure most of the people here only came out of curiosity and gossip. I don’t think anyone knew the real Julian. Heck, I was married to the guy for over a year, and I barely knew him.”

All of a sudden, Kristina’s mood became somber as tears pooled in her eyes. “I’d like to think that Julian is in a better place now, but I know that’s not the truth.”

“Was he really so vile?” I asked. “I mean, the guy must have had some good qualities. You married him for a reason.”

“Julian’s insatiable appetite for weird sex didn’t necessarily make him an evil person,” she said. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She kept her gaze on Julian’s body, eyes narrowed, like she wanted to scold him. “Damn you, Julian. I don’t want to carry your burden anymore. It’s not my responsibility. How could you put it all on me?”

I had no idea what burden she was talking about. The burden of the sex tape? The stigma he left behind? What could it be? I wanted to let her know she could talk to me. That she could unburden herself. Even if it meant admitting to the fact that she wanted him dead. “Julian is gone,” I told her in a soft voice. “Whatever he did in his life is no longer your concern. You can let it go. So whatever you feel that you need to get off your chest, you should do it now. This will be the last time you see his face.”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing I can do to change what he did.”

There was something about her tone that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “Julian confided something to you. What was it?”

She hesitated, but eventually her shoulders slumped. “His first wife, Angela. Her death wasn’t exactly an accident. I’d never pressed him about the details. The ten year anniversary of her death was coming up, and I guess he felt compelled to unload.”

I recalled the story. “She slipped and fell in the shower, right?”

Kristina hung her head. “That’s what he’d told everyone.”

I glanced around the room, wondering if anyone was milling about, listening in on our conversation. People were talking quietly in small groups close by, and I knew that someone would eventually approach.

“Did Julian kill her?” I asked.

“He didn’t mean to. Or, so he said.”

“So they had an argument, and things got out of hand?”

“That’s usually the way it works.”

“Did he explain how it happened?”

Kristina swallowed, her eyes still narrowed on the corpse. “He grabbed a paperweight from his desk and smashed the back of her skull right after she asked for a divorce.”

I stood very still and waited while Kristina made an effort to compose herself.

“After he realized what he’d done, he dragged her body to the bathroom and...” She closed her eyes, jaw grinding, “...and staged the scene to make it look like an accident.”

“There was never a police investigation?”

She shook her head. “Everyone believed Julian’s story.”

“Her family never suspected Julian did it?”

Kristina turned to look at me. “I guess not.”

I wanted to know more details, but I could tell that time was running out. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see someone approaching us. “Can we talk more about this after the wake today?”

“Why?” she said. “None of this matters anymore.”

“Of course it still matters. Her family will want to know the truth.”

“What’s the point in opening old wounds? Besides, I think her family lives in England. They’ve all probably moved on at this point.”

The man to my right stepped in to offer his condolences, so I slowly backed away and went to look for Carter.

I found him standing by the doorway alone and bored. His eyes alighted when he saw me. “How is Kristina?”

“I’ve got a story for you.” I took his hand and lead him out of the building.

Back in the car, I told Carter about Julian’s first wife, Angela.

Carter remained quiet as he mulled things over. I could tell he was shocked by the news, but not too shocked knowing Julian’s history. Finally, he said, “That’s probably the reason Kristina was asking for the divorce. His confession freaked her out, and she couldn’t come to terms with the burden. Does she feel compelled to notify the woman’s family?”

“I don’t know. It’s been over ten years, and apparently her family lives in England.” Just as the words came out of my mouth, my body stiffened.

Carter must’ve picked up on my hesitation. “What is it, Sarah?”

“When you did the background check on Albert Kinlaw, you said he had moved to the states from Manchester, right? When was that, do you remember?”

“Not exactly. I’d have to check the information in Julian’s file back at the house, but I’m pretty sure Kinlaw moved to the states in 2006.”

“Ten years ago. Same time frame that Julian’s first wife died. That can’t be a coincidence, can it? You think maybe Kinlaw and Angela were related?”

Carter started the engine and shifted into drive. “Once we find a copy of her marriage license to Julian, we should have our answer.”

* * *

Since marriage licenses are public record, it was an easy document to find. Angela’s maiden name was Leach, and she’d been born in Manchester, England. However, our initial search results came back negative to any familial connection to Albert Kinlaw.

Carter was able to find a phone number for Angela’s mother, who still lived in Manchester, but I didn’t like the idea of contacting her about her dead daughter after all these years.

“I wonder if the mother knows that Julian Pike is dead,” I said.

With phone in his hand, Carter seemed reluctant to make the call, but he finally dialed the number.

Chapter 17

W
hen Carter and I arrived in Glendale Heights at 11:45 a.m., the assistant led us to Mr. Kinlaw’s office. We didn’t have an appointment. We wanted to catch him off guard.

“Thanks for agreeing to see us on short notice,” Carter said, placing a thumb drive on his desk, which contained the recorded conversation with Angela Leach’s mother.

Mr. Kinlaw kindly gestured for us to have a seat across his desk. He lowered himself into his own seat, moving slowly like he was in pain. His face seemed even more gaunt than before. “What can I do for you?”

“We attended Julian’s wake this morning, and Sarah had an interesting conversation with the grieving widow. Kristina made a confession, of sorts.”

Mr. Kinlaw turned his head slightly to regard me with curious eyes. “And?”

“She decided to unburden herself in a moment of weakness, I expect. A few weeks ago, Julian, under the influence of alcohol, confessed to murdering his first wife, Angela. It happened ten years ago, almost to the date.”

Albert Kinlaw blinked once but said nothing.

“We got in touch with Angela’s mother in England,” I continued, “and we asked her if she happened to know an Albert Kinlaw. Imagine my surprise when she told me that you were her fiancé before Angela moved to the states. She had wonderful things to say about you, by the way. You always remember to send flowers on the anniversary of Angela’s death.”

Kinlaw’s expression remained blank, but I sensed a storm was brewing just beneath the surface. “Why are you coming to me with this now?”

“Angela’s mom explained what happened. Her daughter, at the tender age of twenty-four, came to Boston in 2006 with her girlfriends for a long weekend getaway. She met Julian Pike at some event, and he swept her off her feet. Julian probably didn’t care that she was already engaged to be married. He’s the kind of guy, when he sees something he wants, he takes it, right?”

Kinlaw pursed his lips but remained quiet.

“When she came home from her vacation, she broke off your engagement, packed her things, and left Manchester. She and Julian eloped a few weeks later. Everything seemed to be going great until a few months into their marriage. Nobody seems to know for certain, but my gut tells me that Angela found out about Julian’s demons, and she didn’t like it. She probably came to realize that she’d made a huge mistake. And maybe, she told Julian that she wanted to leave him. Problem is, she never got the chance. Because he murdered her. And then he made it look like an accident.”

Since Kinlaw had made no effort to stop me, he was probably curious to hear the rest of my theory. So I continued.

“After Angela’s death, you came to the states. I’ll bet you suspected Julian killed her. Problem is, you had no proof, and since Julian was a budding defense attorney, you knew he had connections and the means to escape prosecution. But that didn’t mean you’d give up. Some things are worth waiting for, right? You became obsessed with Julian and made it your life mission to get revenge.”

Mr. Kinlaw unclasped his hands and lifted his teacup to his lips. When he set it back down, he said, “I’m impressed. After ten years, I figured everyone had forgotten about Angela. It’s true. We were engaged back then. I never thought anything or anyone could come between us. Apparently, I was wrong.”

“So, you found out about the swing parties that Julian attended, and a plan began to take shape. Problem is, you had to keep your distance from Julian. You couldn’t risk him making the connection to you and Angela. So you waited in the wings for an opportunity to present itself. It took ten years, but you’re a patient man. The only thing I’m not sure about is Madeline. I have a hunch that she was just a means to an end. You used her. And you probably also knew that Madeline had a few male friends who wouldn’t mind taking cash for murder. Zeb just so happens to fit that bill, perfectly with his history of violence.”

If Mr. Kinlaw felt the least bit scared or trapped, he didn’t let on. He seemed more intrigued than alarmed as he sipped his tea.

“So, here’s what I think.” Carter reached over and placed the check for ten grand on his desk. “You can have your money back.”

“Why?” he asked. “You earned that money. It’s yours.”

“We don’t like being used, Mr. Kinlaw. The only reason you wanted Sarah and me to be at that party was so that Madeline had an ironclad alibi. You didn’t want to risk her getting in trouble, which is somewhat admirable, I suppose. But I know you wanted Julian dead, and you wanted to make it look like an accident. Just like he did with your fiancée, Angela. But unfortunately, Zeb made some mistakes when he tried to stage the scene for Julian’s supposed accidental death. If the ME hadn’t been so meticulous, Sarah and I would not be sitting in front of you now.”

Mr. Kinlaw straightened. “Have you spoken to anyone about this?”

Carter showed him his palms. “No. We wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself before we went to Detective James.”

“I suppose you’re recording our conversation.”

Carter donned an innocent expression that almost fooled me. Truth was, we’d activated the voice recorder on my cell phone right before entering his office. It was inside my purse. I was still waiting for him to admit he called the hit.

“I understand why you did it,” Carter said, with genuine empathy. “Truth is, I admire you. After ten years, you are still devoted to Angela. Most guys would’ve moved on after a year or two. Not you, man. You went all the way.”

Mr. Kinlaw’s eye twitched, the first sign of distress that I’d seen from him since we arrived there. “Why haven’t you gone straight to the police with this information? Why come to me now? Are you looking for hush money?”

Carter laughed. “I’m trying to give you back your ten grand. We don’t want your money.”

“Then what do you want, exactly?”

“We wanted to give you the chance to turn yourself in before things turned ugly. Worst case scenario is it goes to trial. I’ll bet, once a jury of your peers hears what happened to Angela, they’ll take pity on you. They’ll forgive you for orchestrating Julian’s murder, perhaps.”

“And why would I do that?” he asked. “Even if I was arrested and found guilty, by the time the trial is over, I won’t spend a day in jail.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because my brain tumor is sure to kill me before that happens. A trial would be a waste of time for the taxpayers of this great country.”

Carter and I exchanged a glance. Could we trust this man even had a brain tumor? Of course, there was no way he could fake his health problems. He was clearly a dying man.  I turned to Kinlaw and said, “How much did you pay Zeb? Can you really trust him to keep his mouth shut when push comes to shove?”

Kinlaw said, “Whatever happens, I’m willing to face it. I have no regrets. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He buzzed his assistant, and she appeared at the door within two seconds.

With that, Carter and I were escorted out of his office.