Death angel, p.8
Death Angel, page 8
“All set?”
“Yes. How is it out?”
“Pretty mild. All you need is a sweater or a light jacket.”
He opened the door of the front hall closet, choosing her navy blazer. He helped her on with it, picking a piece of lint off the sleeve as he surveyed her. Her navy blue leather shoulder bag was on the hall table. She checked to make sure that she had keys to the front door since Richard was going to drop her back at the house and go in to work.
She was surprised at how formally he was dressed. Navy blue suit, white button-down shirt and a blue and yellow striped tie. He stood in front of the mirror to wrestle the knot into position, grimacing as if it were strangling him. He caught her eye and winked.
In silence they drove to the police station. A camera crew and several reporters accosted them when they arrived. Richard refused any comment, putting his arm around Kate, and shouldering his way into the building. Once inside, they were immediately ushered into Carl Leidecker’s office.
Kate had never been to the police station before. She had little time to look around but got the fleeting impression of a modern facility with a subdued air that hinted at a well-run organization. The high-tech atmosphere was daunting. Pickard was such a small town that unconsciously she had been expecting something like the Mayberry police station.
One look at Chief Leidecker’s face dispelled any ideas that they were dealing with Andy Griffith.
Carl stood up, shaking Richard’s hand and nodding to Kate. “Thank you for coming. I know this can’t be pleasant for either of you.” He indicated the trim, gray-haired woman who had risen at their entrance. “This is Deputy Lieutenant Beatrice Johnson, the assistant chief of police.”
“I prefer Bea.”
The warmth that had been missing in Carl’s expression was amply evident in the older woman’s face. She held Kate’s hand in a firm grasp as she expressed her sorrow at Jenny’s death. And when she turned to Richard, Kate could see nothing in Bea’s demeanor to indicate any antipathy. Perhaps she had imagined Carl’s withdrawal. She stared at the closed expression on his face, dropping her eyes as he glanced in her direction.
“Why don’t I explain what we hope to accomplish this morning?” Carl indicated chairs, but only Kate and Bea sat down. “In crimes of this nature, the murderer will frequently attend the wake or funeral of the victim. Sometimes he will return to the crime scene, especially if there is a crowd of people. He gets a kick from the risk of being there and from the opportunity to relive the experience.”
Kate shuddered. Richard stood behind her chair, his hands on her shoulders. He squeezed firmly as if to remind her of his presence and to encourage her. Carl had stopped speaking. He too must have gauged her distress. For an instant, pity flashed in his eyes.
“Believe me, Kate. This will not be awful. It will only be pictures of faces. Just faces,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m all right.”
“We’ve gone through the film, both ours and the news media, and plan to show you each of the faces for identification. There will be friends, family, neighbors, and strangers. Your help in this will be invaluable.”
He paused as if waiting for them to indicate their cooperation. Kate nodded. Behind her, she sensed Richard’s agreement.
“It works best if we do one of you at a time and then run through one final time with both of you together in hopes that you can jog each other’s memory. Kate, if you’ll go with Bea she’ll explain everything to you and stay with you in case you have any questions.”
Kate could feel her stomach drop in a sickening free-fall sensation. What if she saw guilt on the face of someone she knew? She couldn’t bear that.
“Come on, Kate.” Richard took her hand, rubbing it between his own. “If you get moving, we’ll be done in time for lunch. I’ll buy you an avocado burger at Lynn and Diane’s. We’ll sit on the back deck and watch the birds.”
“You know the right buttons to push,” she said, forcing her mouth into a smile. Rising to her feet she followed Bea out of the room.
They went through the main room with its quiet bustle of activity to a hallway running toward the back of the building and a door marked Film.
The room was spartan, painted a neutral cream color, no pictures on the walls to distract the eye from the viewing screen on the right hand wall. Rows of cushioned theater seats faced the screen. Close to the front, a young woman sat at a table that held a computer and a small lamp. The lamp with its mauve ceramic base and white pleated shade was incongruous in the otherwise colorless room.
She nodded to Bea, aware that the woman had been giving her time to look over the room. It was so nonthreatening in appearance that Kate could feel herself relaxing. Bea led her toward the uniformed policeman standing at the back of the room.
“Mrs. Warner, this is Lieutenant Walker, better known as Squint. He’s in charge of all the photography and will explain how everything works.”
Kate shook hands. Walker was in his early thirties, tall and angular, with intense dark eyes and blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. The crow’s feet beside his eyes were evidence of the amount of time he spent behind a camera. With his long hair and a pomaded mustache with spike ends, a la Salvador Dali, he appeared more rebellious youth than policeman.
“He’ll be controlling the computer images,” Bea said, then escorted Kate to the front of the room.
“And this is Sue Byrne,” she said, indicating the young woman at the keyboard of the computer. “When you identify a picture, she will enter the name. Sue’s a student at Northwestern University, working here on an internship. We’re hoping to spoil her enough so that after graduation she’ll come back here to work.”
The young woman grinned as Bea led Kate to one of the seats in the front row. As soon as they were seated, the lights faded except for the lamp on the computer table. Kate jumped as Walker’s disembodied voice came from behind her.
“Mrs. Warner, I’m going to ask you a series of questions and then begin showing you pictures on the screen. Ready?”
Kate nodded then realized he could not see her in the dark and said “yes.” Her voice sounded too whispery but apparently it was sufficient. He asked her several questions, then a series of faces flashed on the screen. Richard, Mike, Chessy, and several of her neighbors. After the first few identifications, she could feel her breathing slow to a more normal rhythm until suddenly she was looking at a man she could not identify.
Heartbeat pounding in her ears, she gripped the arms of the chair in rising agitation.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Warner,” came Walker’s voice. “This is Dr. Mitchell, my dentist in Seattle. I use his picture so you can get the idea that you’re not going to recognize everyone. I had lousy teeth as a kid and I’m hoping someone will positively identify him as a car thief.”
Even knowing it was a well-rehearsed quip, Kate could feel her body relax, settling against the back of the seat.
Face followed face in a mind-numbing array. Carl was right. There was nothing frightening about it. It was slow, tedious work. Once or twice Bea asked if she’d like to take a break, but Kate was anxious to get it over with.
“Thank you, Mrs. Warner.”
Walker’s voice and the lights filled the room at the same time. Blinking rapidly, Kate stared at her watch, amazed that an hour had passed.
Someone must have signaled to Leidecker because when Bea opened the door into the hall, Carl and Richard were just approaching.
“How’d it go?” Brow furrowed in concern, Richard stared down at her.
“Much to my surprise, it wasn’t bad,” she said.
She noted the strained expression on his face and wondered if Carl had been harassing him. She sensed a coolness between the two men. She was glad Richard would be with Bea for a while. The older woman’s attitude was less threatening.
The door closed behind Richard, and Kate turned warily toward Carl.
“I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee,” he said. He started down the hall, opening a door to a small lounge.
In contrast to the barren film room, the decor was positively homey. A small kitchen was on the left. Two easy chairs and two couches were upholstered in blue corduroy and looked comfortable.
“Coffee?” Carl opened a cupboard and took down two mugs.
“I’d prefer tea.”
“Lemon, milk or sugar?”
“Just lemon.”
Kate sat down on the sofa, watching Carl move around the kitchen. He poured himself black coffee, then brought Kate her tea, sitting down across from her.
“I’m not an ogre, you know.”
His words startled her and she almost spilled her tea. She was embarrassed that her feelings were so transparent. She wanted to ignore his statement but decided that she might as well speak her mind.
“I thought you were our friend.”
“Policemen do not have that luxury.” He must have realized that his words were too sarcastic. “I have a job to do, Kate. I can’t let friendship blind me to that.”
“Richard could never have hurt Jenny.”
Carl set his cup down and leaned toward her, his eyes intent on her face. His voice was harsh when he spoke.
“You believe your husband is innocent and that may well be true. It would be all too easy for me to see him only as a grieving father. However his actions have not been fully explained and until they are, I have to treat him as a possible suspect.”
“You know Richard. You’ve talked to him. You’ve seen him in our home and around other people. Can you really believe he could do something so loathsome?”
“Christ, Kate,” Carl said. “If you’d seen as much as I have, you’d realize that anyone is capable of evil. Mother, father, rich, poor. A momentary loss of control and even a saint can become a sinner.”
“If Richard was in any way guilty, I would know it. Do you think I would be a party to such a crime?”
Kate held steady as Carl’s eyes searched her face. It was a slow scrutiny as if he were weighing the possibility in his mind. When he spoke, he did not apologize for his hesitation.
“I am absolutely convinced that you had nothing to do with your daughter’s death. You could not hide your surprise that Richard had not been at the office the day she died.” With both hands he rubbed his eyes, sliding his fingers down his cheeks and tenting them at the base of his chin. He held her gaze. “There’s one thing I don’t know. If, and I am only saying if, Richard were guilty, would you protect him?”
Kate refused to comment. She simply could not deal with what she considered Carl’s betrayal. She drank her tea in silence. He remained with her, prowling the edges of the room until the intercom announced that Richard had completed his session. He ushered her to the door of the film room, leaving her with only a polite goodbye.
“You’ve both done extremely well,” Bea said as Kate sat down beside Richard. “Now you have a choice. We can either continue with the joint session or you can come back tomorrow.”
“I’d rather get it over with,” Richard said. He turned to Kate and she nodded her head.
When it was over, Kate asked Richard to take her home. Neither of them could face going out for lunch. The session at the police station had given her some awareness of the monumental task of finding Jenny’s murderer. It was overwhelming.
“Don’t get out,” she said. “Just leave me and go in to work.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’m exhausted. I’m going to grab a sandwich and lie down for a bit.”
He leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”
Kate unlocked the front door but before she could go inside, she heard someone calling her name.
“Yoo-hoo, Kate. Up here, dear.” Marian Granger’s voice issued from a second-story window in the house next door. “Some flowers came for you while you were out. Is this a good time to bring them over?”
“Don’t bother. I’ll come and get them.”
“It’s no bother. I’m going out to the store as soon as I finish making the bed. I’m running late today. Are you going to be home for a while?”
“Yes. I’m here for the rest of the day. I’ll leave the door open.”
Inside, Kate dumped her purse on the hall table, hung up her blazer, and headed back to the kitchen. As she passed it, the wall phone rang and without thinking, she picked it up.
“Hello?”
“I saw him in the forest preserve.”
The voice was a sibilant undertone.
“Who is this?” Kate’s breath caught in her throat and she could barely get the words out. “What do you want?”
“He took her into the woods. I saw what he did. You knew, didn’t you?”
Kate began to cry, sobbing with pain at the whispered words, but unable to hang up the phone.
The voice rose in anger. “You knew he did it.”
“Who? Who did it?”
“Your husband. He bashed her head in with a rock.”
Eight
“I saw him in the woods. He killed her.”
“No! No!” Kate shouted. “He didn’t do it.”
Kate shook her head with such violence that she lost her balance, falling against the countertop and sliding down the wooden surface of the kitchen cabinet until she sprawled in a heap on the floor, ear still pressed to the receiver.
“He killed her, and I saw it all. He’ll pay for his crime.”
“He didn’t do it. He’d never hurt Jenny.”
Her voice had fallen to a low moan, an echo of the evil whisper on the other end of the line. Words spewed from the caller. Vile words. Hurtful words. Sobbing now, Kate pushed the phone away, curling into a tight ball, rocking back and forth on the linoleum.
“Kate! Kate! What is it?”
She heard Marian’s frightened voice, but she could not stop crying. Strong hands raised her to a sitting position and then Kate felt the older woman’s arms around her. Marian held her, patting her back until her sobs became shuddering hiccups. Tremors shook her. Eventually they lessened and she was able to lift her head from her neighbor’s well-padded shoulder.
Marian reached into a deep pocket of her skirt and came up with a square of neatly folded Kleenex. “Tissue?”
The use of such an old-fashioned word brought a sense of normality back to Kate. She shifted her position, leaning back against the cabinet, too exhausted to get to her feet. She blew her nose.
Marian stood up, brushing off her skirt as she leaned over to pick up the receiver. She listened to the dial tone then hung it up without comment. She opened drawers in the cabinets until she found some kitchen towels. Taking one out, she ran it under the faucet for a minute, wrung it out, and brought it over to Kate.
Kate sucked in her breath at the cool dampness of the terry cloth. Folding the cloth, she pressed it against her swollen eyelids.
“Just stay where you are, dear. I’ll fix some tea.” Cupboards opened and closed. Heavy sigh. “Ah, Lemon Lift. That’s just the ticket.” More cupboards opening. “And I suspect you’ve skipped lunch and it’s well past noon. No wonder you’re looking so white-faced. My mother always used to say, ‘Marian, in a crisis, make sure you get plenty of protein.’ It’s strange because the articles you read nowadays stress carbohydrates.”
The running monologue gave Kate a chance to recover. By the time the kettle whistled, she was ready to face her friend. Getting to her feet, she leaned against the countertop until her legs stopped trembling.
“Why don’t we take this outside? The sun’s shining and it looks to be a lovely day.” Without giving Kate a chance to refuse, Marian picked up the wicker tray on the counter and started out to the family room. Kate unlocked the patio doors, holding the screen door open as Marian stepped out onto the deck.
In Marian, Kate had found the companionship she might have had with her own mother. It was easy to talk to her. She was well-educated, nonjudgmental, and had a wry sense of humor. She was very ladylike, almost prim. Her clothes had an understated elegance that minimized her plumpness. Her short hair was frosted, very striking with her pretty face and sparkling blue eyes.
They sat quietly drinking tea and Kate ate the sandwich Marian had made. When she was finished, Kate leaned back in her chair, raising her mug in a salute. “Thanks.”
“Tea always helps.” The twinkle in Marian’s eyes faded as she stared across the table. “I assume that was an obscene call earlier.”
Kate nodded.
“Right after Leah was born, I started getting calls late at night when George was out of town. The first time it happened, I was so stunned that I just let him keep talking. He said very nasty things. Eventually I learned to hang up. It went on for months. Then it stopped. I never did find out who was making the calls.”
“It wasn’t like an obscene call. This was different.” Kate couldn’t bring herself to tell Marian what the voice had said. “It was sort of threatening.”
“You should tell the police.”
“No!” Kate lurched, spilling tea on her skirt. She brushed impatiently at the wetness, shaking her head.
“Ah.” Marian’s mouth pursed in disgust. “I would guess whomever it was accused Richard or you or both of you of killing Jenny. Am I right?”
Kate’s mouth trembled. She could only nod.
“There are such sickos in the world nowadays. People are frightened when crimes like this happen. They want someone to blame. You need to tell the police about the call.” Kate raised her chin stubbornly, but Marian continued. “You don’t have to describe what the man said.”
Kate shook her head.
“Think about it, dear. It could have been the murderer.”
At Marian’s words, Kate caught her breath in sudden fear.
“The man who killed Jenny is crazy. He might get his kicks from making calls to frighten you. But no matter who it was, the police need to know.”
Without pressing the point, Marian got to her feet and began to put the dishes back onto the tray. Kate sighed, rose to her feet and embraced the older woman.
