Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery (12 page)

“It used to be on Thursday when I lived there.”

“Yesterday was Thursday, Ben,” Netter said.

I shrugged. “What can I tell ya? She’s confused.”

Cox leaned forward. “Where were you on March 19 between the hours of three o’clock in the afternoon and seven o’clock in the evening?”

I shrugged again. “Christ, I don’t know! That was three weeks ago. Where the hell were
you
?”

“I’m asking the questions here. What about on April 2 between six o’clock and eight o’clock in the evening?”

I was exasperated. “Again, I don’t know … no wait. I was in the guesthouse doing laundry. I was just finishing when they broke the news about the Knudsen murder.”

Cox raised his eyebrows. “You were doing laundry?”

“Yes,
Detective Cox
, some men actually do laundry.”

“Can anyone substantiate this?”

“Just my dog, Oscar,” I said. “Why don’t you go over and ask him?”

I shifted in my chair, frustrated. “Look, why are we even talking about any of this? You should have a recording of Plum’s phone call to the tip hotline. We know the call came from Jennifer’s house, and we know I was here when I took the call. I couldn’t be in two places at the same time.” I slowly shook my head. “I’m good,
Detective Cox
, but not
that
good.”

“You’re so full of shit, Tucker.” Cox pointed his finger at me. “You could very well be Jack Plum, and you could’ve paid someone to make that call from the West Bradford house. We don’t know where you were at the time of the other two murders either. They could’ve been a diversion for the main event last night! You have an excellent motive—you went through a highly contentious divorce.”

I laughed. “Hell, so have you!”

“But
my
ex-wife hasn’t been murdered,” Cox said. “And just the other day, on Monday I believe, you said you wished Plum would pay Jennifer a visit and do you a favor.”

I rolled my eyes. “C’mon! That was a joke. Do ya think I’d be stupid enough to say something like that and then follow through with it?”

“Stupid? Or brilliant?
You’re
the renowned crime novelist here. You could have easily come up with a plan to get rid of Jennifer and then made that statement, so it would look too obvious to us. We know she was suing you for half of your book royalties.”

“Jesus, guys!” I said. “What you say is true. But have you forgotten I’m married to an
extremely
wealthy woman? If I asked Maggie for a million dollars, she’d give it to me. I wouldn’t need to kill my ex-wife over a few thousand bucks. Yeah, it pissed me off! But I don’t need the money. I really don’t.”

I glanced at Netter’s reflection in the two-way mirror. “Has Huffman connected Jennifer’s death to the others?” I asked.

“This crime is very different from the first two murders,” Netter said. “For one thing, Jennifer was decapitated while she was still alive. The body was fully clothed, and there were no signs of sexual assault, as is often the case when the victim is a spouse or an ex-spouse of the perpetrator. The front door lock was broken, and the door was forced open.

“The victim’s body was found in the master bedroom, but it was on the floor—not staged on the bed like Clancy and Knudsen, and there was no Bible at the scene. Finally, Jennifer’s physical characteristics, mainly her hair style and color, were very different from the first two victims. If we have the same perpetrator in all three crimes, why do you think he changed his M.O. on this one?”

I thought for a moment and then shrugged. “How the hell would I know?” I looked at Lainie. She said nothing.

“All right,” Netter said, “let’s get the surveillance video from the lobby and a warrant for Tucker’s computer.”

“Hell, you don’t need a warrant! Just come over and get it from the guesthouse. I’ll get a new one.”

“We’ll get a warrant anyway … just to cover ourselves. Then I’ll have the county computer forensic specialist stop by this afternoon and pick it up,” Cox said. “Netter, tell your people at the Marshak estate that no one’s to enter that guesthouse building until our specialist arrives.” He refocused on me. “We’d also like to bring someone in here with a swab kit if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure, knock yourself out. So are we through?”

“No,” Netter said. “There’s something else you need to explain.” He slid a photograph over to me. “Christina Morgan.”

CHAPTER 18

I swallowed hard and looked down at the picture of my former girlfriend. “What about her?”

“Did you know her?” Netter asked.

“Of course, she was my high school girlfriend.” I slowly turned my head toward him. “She was murdered on my eighteenth birthday.” The others gasped.

“According to this report,” Netter said, “Ms. Morgan was raped, murdered, and dismembered.”

Cox reached over and yanked the report from Netter’s hand. “Let me see that!” There was a short pause while Cox swiftly read the report.

“Christ, it says here that this Detective Eldridge had you pegged as the prime suspect,” Cox added. He then looked at Netter. “It’s still an open case. It’s never been solved.”

“Eldridge was an idiot,” I said. “He had his mind set on me, and he couldn’t see anything else. As I said, it was my eighteenth birthday. Christine and I were supposed to meet at the Dairy Queen at six o’clock. But my baseball practice ran longer than expected, and I was about a half hour late. I wasn’t concerned at the time. After all,” I looked back down at the photo with tears in my eyes, “what’s the worst that could happen?” I sighed deeply. “Anyway, at least twenty of my team members swore that I didn’t leave the field until six fifteen.”

Netter piped in. “You should’ve told us about this.”

“It’s not something I like to talk about.”

Cox pointed at the report. “This says you were committed to a mental institution.”

I half grinned. “That sounds like I was in an insane asylum. It was really a psychiatric hospital … for two weeks of observation. It was all voluntary. My parents and therapist were concerned that I was exhibiting self-destructive behavior. Eldridge thought it was driven by guilt.”

All four of them said nothing as I slid the photograph back to Netter.

“I was a kid,” I said. “My girlfriend had been murdered … and I’d never been exposed to death before—not even a pet or a grandparent. I was pretty screwed up. But I’m completely past it now.”

I leaned back and crossed my legs. “So are you going to tell me what happened in the meeting?”

“No.” Cox said bluntly.

Netter was watching me. “What’s that look on your face, Tucker?”

“I was just thinking, but it has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Enlighten us … please.”

I looked at Netter in the two-way mirror and said, “When I wrote
Deception,
and I was describing the police investigators, I forgot to say what a bunch of clueless, dick-sucking assholes you guys are. And if you want to talk any more about Christine, I want an attorney.”

Netter got up in disgust. “We’re through here,” he said. “I need a cigar.” He walked out.

“Don’t choke on it!” I called after him.

 Cox and Dunwood also left the room, but Lainie stayed.

A young man entered and took swabs from the inside of my mouth, put them in evidence vials, and labeled them.

As soon as he left, I looked at Lainie. “I did not kill Jennifer.”

“I know that,” she said.

Her abrupt answer threw me. “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Look, right now they’re playing politics—they have to. They made the right decision removing you from the task force. Everybody’s watching this investigation, and careers could be ruined if it isn’t handled correctly. You must realize that. But I’m convinced that the Lieutenant believes you had nothing to do with this. And
I
know you had nothing to do with it.”

“And Cox?”

“Frank’s an ass,” she said. “He’s a good cop, but he’s an ass. And he’s frustrated. He likes facts and leads he can follow. He refers to my profiling as smoke-and-mirrors investigation. But to answer your question, I don’t believe for an instant that Frank has you figured for Jennifer’s death.”

I put my elbows on the table and put my face in my hands. “I don’t understand any of this,” I said. “Why did Plum do this? I haven’t done anything to
him
. Why does he hate
me
so much?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” she said. “He’s in love with you.”

“What are you talking about?”

She explained. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a physical, homosexual kind of love. It’s the love of a god or an idol. I’ve listened several times to the recording of the call last night. He said he saw your interview with Sally Briggum, and he knew you were the one … that the two of you had a destiny. I believe Plum saw or heard something in that interview that he connected with. It may be something obviously profound that we should be able to pick up on, or it could be something insignificant to us, but very significant to him.”

She continued, “When Plum said he had a gift for you, he was telling the truth. It was a special gift … a down payment for you to write his story and make him immortal.”

“What if I refuse to write the book?” I asked.

“Then you’ll probably be punished, possibly by eliminating other members of your family … starting with your daughter. Jennifer was chosen because she was an enemy of his idol. Presently, I don’t believe your family is in danger … unless he sees them as rivals for your attention.”

“Well, I’ll err on the side of caution on that one,” I said. “Why do you think he didn’t sexually assault Jennifer?”

Lainie shook her head. “She wasn’t his type. That’s also why her body wasn’t staged like the others. They were revenge killings. Jennifer’s murder was a crime of passion—but the passion was directed toward you.”

“There’s something I don’t understand,” I said. “How could we get a phone trace if the lines had been cut?”

“He must have cut them after he figured the call had been traced. I’ll bet he was right outside the house in back and cut them just before the first responders arrived. Plum only did this so you would think he had your daughter, and it worked … at least long enough for you to appreciate the message. He’s telling you he could have also killed your daughter. So in a weird, twisted way, he feels he’s given you two gifts—Jennifer dead and Amanda alive.”

Lainie touched my shoulder. “I know you’ve been removed from the task force, but I’ll try and keep you in the loop. I had planned on going back to Virginia today, but with the recent turn of events, I’ve decided to stay. I’m not taking any chances either, and I’ve arranged to stay in a secure location. Who knows? He may come after your friends or colleagues next.

“One more thing, Ben. I believe Plum has a plan, and he expects to die at the end of his murderous crusade. I’m certain he’s counting on taking you with him.”

CHAPTER 19

Wake County computer forensic specialist, Vernon Skelnik, called to inform me that he would pick up my computer at about four o’clock. I needed to copy the information on it so I stopped at Triangle Electronics, bought a 3 TB portable storage drive, and was back at the estate by noon. All five of my ladies were in the great room talking to Marcus Bradley when I walked in the door. He stood and we shook hands.

“Ben,” he said. “The girls have just told me what’s happened. Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go into the study.”

Maggie gave me a look. She was used to being in control and having everyone report to her. I kissed her on the side of the head.

“This is man talk, sweetheart,” I quipped as we walked away. “Now you just run along and finish ironing my shirts.”

She crossed her arms, and her eyes shot daggers at me.

Once in the study, I closed the door and poured two glasses of scotch. Marcus took a swallow and paused to enjoy it. “Ah, this is the good stuff.” We sat in two facing leather armchairs.

“So, Ben, are things as bad as I’ve heard?”

“They’re probably worse.” I opened my jacket to expose Pure Reason tucked inside my belt. “This guy Plum is a lunatic. I need to have the security system upgraded on the estate.” I knocked back a drink. “It’s going to be expensive, Marcus. Fifty grand … maybe even a hundred. I may need an advance on my spending allowance.”

“Actually, there’s a discretionary fund in the trust that can be used for this purpose. Let me contact our security firm, and I’ll get the name of a reputable company. We want somebody who provides high risk executive and celebrity protection services.”

“I also want to buy some weaponry … tactical stuff, but legal,” I said.

He nodded. “Get me a list of what you want. I have a contact at Harry’s Gun Shop.”

“I’m still researching on the internet, but I’ll let you know. And one more thing—Maggie’s not to know. She’s skittish about these things.”

“Got it. How extensive is the threat? Is it just you, or are Margaret and the kids in danger too?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t want to take any chances. I’m thinking of sending them away for a while … Larkspur maybe. But I don’t want them to go alone. I’d like to hire a security detail to go with them.”

Marcus looked me in the eye, understanding the gravity of the situation. He immediately swung into full defense mode. “I know two former Navy Seals,” he said. “They’re used to extreme physical and mental situations—they don’t take any shit. I’ll see if they’re available. You’re going too, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m staying here. I’ve been kicked off the task force, but Netter needs me … or somebody like me.”

 He started to protest, but he knew how far he’d get. “Okay. How soon would you like to arrange this?” he asked.

“I’d like them to go right away, but Maggie has this damn annual fundraiser for the Museum of Art on Thursday. It’s a really big deal to her, and she’s not going to miss it. You know how she is, Marcus, once her mind’s made up, there’s no stopping her.” He nodded in commiseration. His expression said it all—boy oh boy, did he know. “Okay, so she does the flippin’ event, and then I want everybody packed up and ready to go the following morning. But I’m telling you, Marcus, if things get any more out of control, they go immediately, whether she likes it or not.”