Murder one in midvale co.., p.7
Murder One in Midvale Corners, page 7
“Yes, we were able to tentatively identify the owner. It is Horace Appleworth.”
Mike looked pleased. He sat down. “Your witness,” he said.
Penny led the technician through the process used to identify Horace’s ownership of the pistol.
“We entered a description of the pistol into the state’s databank of registrations. We got three hits, but this pistol is unique because the wooden handle has letters carved into it. They look like RAA. Only one pistol matched that description. It was a pistol registered by Horace Appleworth twenty years ago. We found no subsequent sale or exchange of ownership.”
“Thank you, Officer,” said Penny. She sat down.
“Any witnesses, Ms. Johnson,” Judge Hancock asked.
“No, your honor.”
“Your honor,” Mike said, “the state has shown that on or about Thursday, August 20th at 9 pm, Dick Boswick was murdered in his office in the city office building at 147 Alexander, Midvale Corners, that he was killed by two bullet shots to the head from a .22 caliber pistol, that Horace Appleworth was at the offices, was heard to argue with Mr. Boswick. It was also established that the pistol used to kill Mr. Boswick is owned by Horace Appleworth.
“Therefore, the state asks that Horace Appleworth be bound over to the Circuit Court to tried for the murder of Dick Boswick. We also ask that Mr. Appleworth’s bond be revoked and that he be immediately returned to jail to await his trial.”
Penny stood. “Your honor, there is no denying that Dick Boswick was shot in the back of the head, that those shots killed him and that someone fired those shots. My client admits that he spoke with Mr. Boswick at his office that night but denies that he had anything to do with Mr. Boswick’s death. The pistol that was found could belong to anyone. Scratches on the handle do not rise to the level of positive identification.”
“We ask that Horace Appleworth not be bound over for the murder of Dick Boswick.”
Judge Hancock reviewed the evidence presented that day. He said, “After a review of the evidence, I believe that there is ample evidence to show that Dick Boswick was killed by being shot twice in the back of the head and I believe there is enough to establish that there is probable cause to believe Horace Appleworth committed the murder. I, therefore, will send this matter on to Judge Sanford in the Circuit Court, where it will be set for trial.”
“As to bond, I believe the prosecutor has asked that bond be revoked. Any comments, Ms. Johnson?”
“Yes, Your Honor. My client denies committing this crime. We will prove his innocence at trial. My client assures the court that he will appear for all hearings required in this matter. My client has been a resident of Midvale Corners for over twenty years; he has a home and a business here. He has no prior record. The court has set a high bond, which has been posted. My client is wearing a tether and is following the directions of the court. We ask that bond be continued.”
“Your honor,” Mike said. “This is a heinous crime. This man cold-bloodedly killed another human being, we are rightfully concerned about the protection of the public from…”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Pritchard, I hear you. Bond will remain the same. Mr. Appleworth, this is a privilege I am giving you. Please do not disappoint me.”
Horace stood quickly. “No, your honor, I’ll not disappoint you.”
J.D. got up from his bed in the corner of Penny’s office. He stretched and yawned. He padded through Althea’s office to the door leading to the hall.
“Is Penny coming? Can you hear her?” Althea looked up from her computer. J.D. stood, nose to the edge of door, snuffling and wagging his tail.
Penny opened the door. She saw four eyes staring at her. J. D’s happy to see her; Althea’s expectant for the news of Horace’s hearing.
“I need coffee,” said Penny. She walked across the room that doubled as Althea’s office and the reception area. She dumped her briefcase stuffed with reports and the much researched but unused cases on the table in the corner of her office. She sat down heavily in her desk chair. Althea brought her coffee. J. D. put his head in her lap.
“The good news is that Horace is still out on bond. The bad news is that he is charged with first degree murder.”
“Oh, my,” Althea said, sitting in the client’s chair across from Penny. “You were so confident there wasn’t enough evidence. What happened?”
“Wendy Morgan and her friends happened. They found a 22-caliber pistol in the weeds by the railroad track.” Penny told Althea the story of the pistol and its notoriety on Wendy’s Facebook page.
“And, the lab tech claims it matches a pistol registered to Horace twenty years ago. Horace claims it’s not his. I don’t know what to believe. I did discover that about 25 people saw the picture of the pistol and commented on it.”
“Do we know who they are? Maybe one of them is the killer.”
“We are getting a list of names from the Prosecutor.”
Percy walked into the room. After giving JD a quick sniff, he jumped up on Penny’s desk.
“Where is Kyle?” asked Penny. She rubbed the top of Percy’s head and was thanked with a loud purr.
“Here I am,” Kyle said. He pulled over a chair and sat down next to Althea. “I heard Horace is formally charged with the murder of Dick Boswick.”
“Bad news sure travels fast in a small town,” Penny said. “Yes, and now I need your help on several matters. Did you hear that the police found a pistol or rather Wendy…?"
“Yes, and I saw it. My sister’s boy sent me the link. He thought it was really cool.”
“Sheriff Nicholson has a list of 25 other kids who thought it was cool. When he sends it over, can you check each one of them out? It is possible those kids know more about the pistol. I’ll research the law but I don’t know it being on Facebook makes the evidence less reliable. I also want to know why the police think the gun is registered to Horace. I’ll get him in here to explain it but see what you can find out.”
“Horace doesn’t have an alibi—or at least he doesn’t remember seeing anyone the night of the murder. He gave us a good description of where he was after he left the offices. I know it was the night of the weekly concerts and everyone was at the courthouse square listening to the band, but maybe someone saw him walking by.”
“I typed up my notes,” Althea said. She handed Kyle a copy. In her usual efficient way, she included a map of Midvale Corners.
Kyle, who had been taking his own notes in the small spiral notebook he carried with him, took Althea’s notes, folded them and stuck them in his notebook.
Penny looked at her two friends and colleagues. She smiled, glad for their help and confidence in her abilities. She worried that because the Sheriff and the police were sure they had the killer, they would look no further; Mike wanted this win to cement his career; the court didn’t want to set a high-profile killer free and the press was all over this case. She didn’t believe that Horace was the type to kill someone, but what if he did? And if he didn’t, was she the one to keep him out of prison for the rest of his life?
As if reading her thoughts, Althea said, “Don’t you worry, we will discover the real killer.”
Kyle nodded.
“We need to look more closely at Dick Boswick. What he was doing the last few days before his death and whether he was corrupt and having an affair. Either one could cause someone to want to murder him. What does the prosecutor think was Horace’s’ motive for this murder?” he asked.
“He thinks that Horace was so angry that he did not get the last contract that he killed Dick thinking the bidding would start again and he would have a chance,” Penny answered, stretching, trying to get rid of the tension in her neck and shoulders.
“Horace was not the only one bidding on that contract. I’ll look into the other people who were interested.”
“Thanks, guys,” said Penny, with a wan smile. The trio broke up, each going off to take on the matter of the People versus Horace Appleworth.
Chapter 10
A t precisely 6:00 pm on Wednesday, Althea walked into the bookstore on Main Street for the meeting of the Midvale Corners Literary and Investigatory Society. Rose, Mary, and Arney were scheduled to arrive at 6:30.
“Your usual latte?” asked the young man behind the counter.
Althea nodded. She tried but could not remember the young man’s name. She knew he was related to the Frasier’s, but his name would not come to her. She would ask Rose, she knew everyone. She smiled her thanks, took the latte and found a seat at their table.
After a sip of the warm, foamy, latte, Althea leaned back in her chair. The shop was empty at this dinner hour, but she knew people would arrive in a while to enjoy a drink, sit in the tables in front and chat with their friends. Midvale Corners was not a large town and everyone seemed to know each other. They all liked to take a walk in the waning September evening and stop at the bookstore for a treat.
“We’re here,” said Rose, coming up to the table. “Arney drove by and picked us up. He will be here in a minute. He was looking for change for the meter. He doesn’t want to get a parking ticket. I told him that he didn’t need to worry because parking is free after seven and none of Sheriff Bill’s men are out to find people who park at the meters too long. But you know how he is.”
“Shall I get the coffees,” asked Mary coming up behind Rose. “I think I know what everyone wants—oh, you already have yours, I see.”
Mary returned shortly with the coffees for everyone. She had a small plate of cookies. “Belinda wants us to try these. I got your double latte, Arney.” She set the coffees and cookies on the table and settled into a chair. Rose and Arney sat down. All three turned to Althea, leaning forward expectantly.
Althea took some time to explain what had happened in court.
“The prosecutor and the police are convinced that Horace is the murderer. Especially now that they’ve found the pistol—well, the kids found the pistol—and took a picture of it—with a cell phone.”
“My phone can take pictures,” said Rose. “I didn’t think I would use it, but it’s really fun. I take pictures of the events at the library and then load them on our website.”
“My goodness, Rose, I didn’t know you were so, so, technologically adept,” said Mary. “I just use my phone to call people.”
“Me, too,” said Arney. “I don’t have time for all that techno stuff.”
“Well,” said Althea, bringing the group back to her. “Wendy sent the picture to her Facebook page and it was seen by her friends who then sent it on to their friends so it got lots of exposure. And the worst of it is that the lab believes the pistol belongs to Horace. Kyle is checking on the 25 people who saw it and made a comment. Now, what have you all found out since our last meeting?”
“I’ll go first,” said Mary, pulling a sheet of paper out of her purse. After consulting it, she said, “Fiona Houlis and Victor Miller have been into the offices several times. I have the dates. They are both asking about the bids, when they are going to be opened again, whether they should be filing a new proposal. Victor keeps asking what happened to his bid. He is furious because he is sure he was awarded the job, but now the commissioners are dragging their heels. Fiona seems relieved that the bidding is going to be opened again.”
“She told anyone who would listen that her company was the best and would do the best job. They both have been in several times. Frankly, we are getting tired of all their grumbling. Don’t they realize that a man has been killed?” Mary shook her head, reaching for her coffee.
“I don’t think they care,” said Rose. “It’s old news to them, I bet. I have some news to add. Sally Boswick goes to my church. She and Jane both come. It is so sad.”
“Anyway, as you know, I help with the flowers for the alter. One of the ladies said she heard that Dick was having an affair with Polly Langstrom who works at The Depot restaurant. I wondered about that so after church when we went there for breakfast, I made sure we sat in her section.”
“Polly waited on us. She looked really upset, so I asked her what was wrong. I know her younger sister—she is in one of my young reader book clubs at the library—she had mentioned that she saw Polly crying and when she asked her why, Polly wouldn’t say.”
“Anyway, Polly didn’t answer me right away, then she said she had to call our local travel agency and cancel her vacation. I asked where she was going and she said she had plans to go on a cruise.”
“I asked why she had to cancel and she said her friend couldn’t go all of a sudden. I wonder who that friend is? Could it be Dick Boswick?”
“Sally’s been a little short with Polly’s mother, who comes to our church. I wonder if Sally suspects what her husband was up to.”
“How can we find out?” asked Althea. “Jealousy can be a powerful motive for murder.”
“Not sure, but will keep my eyes open,” said Rose, nodding her head, her beige felt fedora staying in place as if it dared to move from its rakish angle.
The ladies turned to Arney, who sat up, ran his thumb and forefinger down the knife-edge crease in his light wool trousers, learned forward, tented his hands and said, “I talked to Greg, the accountant for the city. He confirmed that the city is asking for new bids for the job. He said he had heard rumors that Dick was taking kickbacks from the bidders and the ones that paid got the contract. He hasn’t found any proof of that, but he is aware of the problem. He also heard that Victor was nosing around the Sheriff’s department, trying to find out how the investigation is going. Remember, Penny told us they found a couple of hundred-dollar bills at the murder scene—they were under Dick’s head. If Victor was the winning bid, then maybe that money is his and maybe he wants it back.”
“The other good news is that the attorney for Dick Boswick’s estate is a client of mine. He has asked me to help him sort out Dick’s bank records. He said they were in a bit of a mess. I haven’t received everything yet but I should get them soon. We might be able to learn something from those records. If Dick was taking money under the table, where is it? He must have it someplace. I wonder if Sally knows where it is.”
“It seems, said Althea, “we have more questions than we do answers. I think it is safe to say that Dick was having an affair. I don’t know that we can be sure that Sally knew but maybe someone will know. And there is good reason to believe he was corrupt. We know that Fiona and Victor are looking for business. I wonder if Horace will bid on the job. Can people have accused of murder bid? I’ll ask Penny. And if he doesn’t bid, does that make him look guiltier?”
“Arney, I know some of the information you have is privileged, but some of it is a matter of public record. And you might get a clue to help us confirm that Dick was taking kick-backs.”
“I’ll do what I can,” said Arney standing up, leaning on his cane. He reached for another cookie. “It is a good thing you are thin as a rail,” said Rose. “That is your third cookie. There are two left—why don’t you take them home for later?”
“I do believe I will,” said Arney, wrapping the two cookies in a napkin and putting them in his pocket.
The group cleaned up their table, gathered up their belongings and went out the door. The bookstore was beginning to fill up. Students with laptops came in looking for a place to study, away from home, and with their friends. Althea wondered how much studying got done when they all congregated together.
“Keep me posted,” she said to her friends as they got in Arney’s car.”
“We will, don’t worry. We should have news soon.”
Arney carefully backed his car out of the parking space. Fortunately, everyone in the city knew how hard it was to back out of the parking spaces that lined Elm Street. There were few accidents among the locals. Occasionally, the folks who came to court were impatient and caused some problems for the Sheriff.
Althea headed on home. She knew in her bones that Horace was innocent. She was also sure her friends would be able to come up with some evidence to help Penny prove her case. It was simply a matter of time.
Chapter 11
T he parking lot of St. Aloysius Church was almost full when Kyle pulled in. He found a spot on the grass at the far corner. The whole town had turned out for Dick Boswick’s funeral. He walked to the church, nodding to people he knew.
Coming through the reception area, the sweet scent of the masses of flowers assailed his nose. That smell, lovely in nature, was not so lovely in death. Kyle shuddered, wondering who walked over his grave.
“Kyle, will you sign the registration book. It will be nice for Sally to look at later. It’s so lovely that all these people came to the funeral.” Kyle nodded at Rose who was stationed near the door of the church and seemed to be in charge of directing traffic. He signed the book, glancing as he did so at the list of names. There were pages and pages of them.
“About fifty people have arrived so far,” said Rose sensing his question.
Kyle wanted to sit in the back of the sanctuary where he could easily observe the people in the audience. When he entered the room, he was surprised to see that the only empty pews were in the back. He found a spot and looked around.
He saw Sally and Jane Boswick sitting in the front pew. Sally held her head high as if to dare anyone to say anything bad about her husband. Jane, sitting next to Sally, was dabbing her eyes, trying not to look at her father’s casket.
Fiona Houlis was sitting directly behind Sally. Sitting next to her was a dark-haired, thin man. They were talking quietly. Kyle wondered who he was. Seated at the end of the same row was Victor Miller. He was easy to spot since his head was way above the crowd. Kyle remembered that he was a tall, large man who had played basketball in high school. Kyle thought he had been suspended from the team for some reason. He made a note in his little notebook to check that out.
He noticed Dan Dunlap sitting a few rows away. It was common for a detective to appear at the funeral of a murder victim. Often the murderer could be found in the crowd. Kyle had the same suspicion. He wondered—did Dan think that they had the wrong man; that the real killer was still out there?
