Lasting Doubts (The Red Lake Series Book 2) Page 13

  “How’d you get them? Strangle her and pull them off her corpse?”

  Homer’s face turned livid; he threw a punch but it was slow. Harry leaned back out of it and the fist sailed past his face drawing Homer forward and off balance. Harry turned away and brought his elbow down hard on Benson’s kidney area. Homer’s hand shot to his back as he fell to on his knees. He looked up at Harry with venom and caution in his eyes.

  “You are pretty lucky.”

  “No, good. Certainly better than you.”

  Homer tried to stand but gave up and settled for sitting on the running board of his truck.

  “I got nothing else to say.”

  Harry shrugged. “The cops will be here soon. Personally, I want to find the killer. The cops might settle for you.”

  After thinking about this for a minute Homer asked, “What did you want to know?”

  “How’d you get the panties?”

  “Scooped them up off the floor when she stripped.”

  “Did you arrange for her to be there?”

  “No, Andy did.”

  “Who’s Andy?”

  “A guy from school.”

  “What guy?”

  “I’m don't snitch.”

  He talks as if he was recalcitrant schoolboy in the principal’s office.

  Harry rubbed his chin and let silence hang in the air. In the distance was the cry of a siren. It came closer. Homer looked about nervously.

  “Why’d you dump the panties?”

  “I got a note in the mail that said I screwed a fifteen year old and I better get ready to pay.”

  “Was it signed?”

  “No but Alison was the only chick I’d done in months.”

  “She was actually sixteen, she was held back a year.”

  “Didn’t matter she was jail bait and I was eighteen already.”

  “How much did you pay her?”

  “Nothing. I never heard from her again. But when she went missing, I got rid of the panties just in case.”

  “Cops are going to want to know who Andy was. It shouldn’t be hard to figure out. Andy was Anders Schmidt.”

  “If you knew, why did you ask?”

  “I wanted to see if you would cover for him.”

  Homer shook his head. “I had nothing to do with Albright except banging her, I didn’t knock her off. Talk to Andy.”

  “Where is he?”

  Homer shrugged. “That’s why you should talk to him. His family was piss-poor and suddenly he had money. He left town that summer. I haven’t seen him since.”

  *

  Harry got to his office a little past eleven-thirty.

  “I have some stuff for you to do,” he said to Paula.

  “Oh goodie! And I thought all I had to do was paint my nails,” she said looking up from the office checkbook and a stack of bills.

  “Sarcasm is not becoming on you, young lady.”

  Paula laughed and stuck her tongue out. “Who says I’m a lady?”

  Harry seated himself behind his desk.

  Paula picked up a steno pad, sashayed over to his desk with an exaggerated sway and parked her hip on the edge of his desk. “And what does God’s answer to ‘Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe, and Lew Archer want me to do?”

  Harry tensed his upper lip, “Listen sweetheart, I want you to hustle over to the Recorders Office and look up a property record.”

  “That's a terrible Bogey!”

  “At least you new who it was!” Harry said defensively. He resumed with his normal voice. “Amber Wood is an estate, on the eastern shore, owned by David Barnes. I want to know who else owned it over the last twenty years.”

  “How does this tie in?”

  “It’s where Alison Albright’s body was stashed for the last two decades.”

  If this news startled Paula, she did not show it.

  “Secondly,” Harry continued, “get on the Internet and see if you can find Anders Schmidt. He was in the class of ‘92 but there was no address for him on the alumni list.”

  “Do you want a background check?”

  “No, just an address and phone number if you can get it.”

  “The police could find him faster.”

  “Sure, and they’d get to ask their questions first.”

  “Should I do this before or after I track down Holland’s work references?”

  “What, you haven’t finished?” he retorted in mock shock.

  Paula rolled her eyes. “I started making calls but human resource people are very tight-lipped. So far no one wants to talk. I hinted at alcohol issues but nobody bit. When I hinted at impropriety with students, several became tongue tied.”

  “Keep trying.”

  “Are you going to buy me lunch first?”

  Harry glanced at his watch. “Sorry you’re on your own. I want to talk to Herb Lanski.”

  Chapter 17

  Herb gave his usual ‘hail-fellow well met” greeting when Harry pushed through the door. He slipped his sales smile on as readily as his sport coat.

  “How can I help you, Harry?”

  “Alison Albright.”

  Lanski’s smile faded.

  “Told you I don’t know anything about her.”

  “And I was told you got to know her intimately.”

  “By whom?”

  “Nice grammatical use, Herb but it begs the point. You fucked her, along with a bunch of other fools. Did you receive one of her notes?”

  Lanski’s face flushed.

  “I see you did. How much did you pay?”

  His head swung side-to-side as his mouth said, “Nothing.”

  “Why not?”

  Herb shrugged. “The letter said there would be another about where to send the money. It never came.”

  “Any ideas as to why?”

  “I thought maybe it was a sick joke.”

  “Maybe you made sure she never came back to ask. Did you kill her Herb?”

  Lanski looked up startled. He snapped out, “I never touched her!”

  “You fucked her!” Harry roared back.

  Herb’s face fell.

  After a long silence he said, “It was my first time.”

  Harry pushed. “So you killed her.” He said it as though it were a fact.

  “No!” barked Lanski. “Go ask Frank Danby. She was wearing his letter jacket.”

  “When Herb? When did you see her in Danby’s jacket?”

  “In the house,” he stammered.

  “What house?”

  “Why er, um, uh, the house where we had the party.”

  Lanski was coming apart.

  “Did you stash the body? You were the agent for the house.”

  “For what house? Mitch Conners broke into the houses we partied in. I was in high school for heaven’s sake, I wasn’t even a realty agent, yet!”

  “But you were the agent for Amber Wood where Alison Albright’s body was found wearing Frank Danby’s high school jacket!”

  “I thought she was found on the beach?”

  “But that’s not where Frank found her.”

  “See! I said you should talk to him.”

  “I did. So did the Sheriff. Now I’m asking you, how did you know she was wearing Danby’s jacket?”

  Lanski looked around as if he might try to run. Then his bravado failed.

  “I found the body.”

  “When?”

  “Two months ago.”

  “Sure it wasn’t twenty years ago when you dumped the body?”

  “No, no that wasn’t me. I don’t know how she ended up under the stairs.”

  “How’d you find it?”

  “I was changing a light bulb on that wagon wheel chandelier, the one in the front hall. It’s over twelve feet high, so I brought an eight-foot stepladder inside. When I was folding the ladder up it fell and the corner smashed a hole in the drywall below the stairs. I got a flashlight to see what sort of backing was in the wall to repair the hole and was surprised to see there w
as a dead space under the stairs. That was nothing compared to realizing there was a body wrapped in plastic.”

  “So being a good citizen you called the sheriff?”

  “There’s no need to be sarcastic. No, I didn’t call.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t want to be involved in a murder. I could see the letter jacket, it had to be Alison. She was wearing it just before the cops showed up. She grabbed her clothes off the floor and ran out wearing Frank’s jacket. I was right behind her watching her cheeks and legs below the hem of the coat.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know. She disappeared in the dark.”

  Lanski shifted uneasily.

  “I think you’re lying,” accused Harry.

  Herb hung his head. But his answer surprised Harry.

  “I was worried about the listing. We were in escrow. I needed the money from that commission; it has been a tough year. If I reported a body, the house might be tied up for months. Even worse, a house where a body has just been found is almost impossible to move. Hell, Harry, look at that cabin by the lake where that CIA agent was murdered last year. It’s on the market at half value and there are still no takers.”

  Harry said nothing.

  “It’s been twenty years since she disappeared, Harry. Who cares anymore?”

  “Maybe her mother and father Herb. Perhaps even they don’t give a damn anymore, but someone should.”

  Herb hung his head down.

  “Any ideas who might have killed her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Herb’s mouth said no, but his discomfort said he had ideas.

  “Let’s cut the bull Herb, it’s time to man-up. Who are you thinking of?”

  Herb shifted again then sagged into a chair as though too burdened by his thoughts.

  “I went with Becky Garner, her married name is Fenton. You might know her, she works at the Canaan Grill.”

  Harry nodded noncommittally.

  “She had to be home by eleven, so I walked her home and came back. Things were getting pretty wild. Everyone was drunk and Alison was in the back room taking on anyone who was willing to mount up.”

  “And who were willing?”

  Herb shrugged. “Most of them I guess.”

  “And you too?” Harry knew the answer but wanted to see if Lanski would lie.

  He nodded his head. “Yeah, like I said, it was my first time. Becky was saving herself for marriage so when I had the chance to score, I took it.”

  He’s taking a hell of a lot of time getting to the point.

  “So while we were doing it I noticed this charm bracelet on her wrist. I didn’t look at her face or her body, just this stupid charm bracelet swinging six inches from my face. Not that it was there a long time.”

  “Sure being your first time and all.”

  Herb nodded. “Yea, I got off quick.”

  He fell silent.

  After a minute Harry spoke, “Okay Herb, I hate to disturb your walk down memory lane but what does this have to do with who killed Alison?”

  “I saw someone with that bracelet later.”

  “Who?”

  Herb seemed to choke but finally spit out the words, “Mitch Conners.”

  “When?”

  “It was a while after she went missing, but I was afraid, Mitch was rough back in school.”

  Harry felt an urge to hit Lanski, to hurt him into thinking about someone other than himself. What the hell, he’s a real estate agent, what should I expect? Instead he said, “Don’t go away, Herb. The sheriff will want to talk to you sooner than later.”

  Harry wanted to talk to Deputy Conners but not at the station. He wasn’t ready to bring attention to Mitch nor was he ready to be asked more questions by Gaines. Once they talked to Danby he figured Gaines would be looking for him realizing Harry knew more than he shared. The question is how much rope Gaines give me before he pulls hard. Instead of seeing Conners, he returned to the office.

  Paula had a tuna fish sandwich and a can of soda in front of her. She was looking through the Bartenders Handbook.

  “What do you think of a Fuzzy navel?”

  Harry frowned, “A what?”

  “I thought we might try one. It’s peach schnapps and orange juice. The fuzzy is from the peach and the navel is the orange.”

  Harry shook his head,“Not a chance.”

  Paula shrugged, not discouraged by his disdain.

  “I found Anders Schmidt and a got a bite on Ray Holland.”

  “What about the property records?”

  “Wonder Woman hasn’t got there yet. It is next on my list.”

  She took a bite of the sandwich. It always surprised Harry how much she could fit in her mouth. No mousy nibbling on her part.

  “Where’s Schmidt?”

  “Connecticut or Manhattan, take your pick. He has a house near Greenwich and he works as a fund manager for the Amdon World Fund. He personally controls a billion dollar portfolio. Another vunder-kid,” she said mimicking a Germanic accent.

  “I thought I only asked for his number?”

  “There was a write up on the Amdon Fund in Forbes, Schmidt was in it, so it came up on my web search.”

  Paula pointed at a paper on the corner of her desk. “There’s his number and address for the office. His number in Connecticut is unlisted. I copied the article, its there, too.”

  Harry looked at the papers as he sat at his desk.

  “Could you call the sheriff’s station and ask if Mitch Conners is on duty? If he is, ask him to stop by and see you. Give him the address for the office across the hall. Tell dispatch you need to see him in person.”

  “And when he shows up?”

  “Its not like you’re filing a false police report. You’re helping me talk to him without anyone knowing it.”

  Paula made the call. After she hung up she asked, “You ready to hear about Ray Holland?”

  Harry glanced up, “Sure.”

  “Nothing definite, but I talked to a woman in personnel where Holland’s tenure was particularly short. I told her on behalf of the Red Lake School I was looking for the sort of teacher I would want to leave my own precious daughter with.”

  “Does your daughter have a name?”

  Paula smiled, “Julia! Do you like it? I thought it was a nice touch.”

  Harry smiled. “You look too good to have a teenage daughter.”

  “You’re sweet to think so. Anyway this woman said she had a daughter too. I waited like you taught me to do and finally she simply said, “Ray Holland is not a man with whom I'd want my daughter to be alone.” When I asked if there were others who felt that way too, she said she had to go and hung up.”

  “I guess that leaves him still on our list?

  Harry wrote out a report. He needed money and Parks would want to know what his money bought. So far there was little to show for it. Parks wanted Alison’s departure kicked down the road away from the evening of the party, but so far her disappearance was firmly grounded in that night.

  A half-hour later Harry spotted Mitch Conners in the hall. He was adjusting his gun belt prior to knocking on the Med-Check Insurance door. Harry nodded to Paula, “Get him in here.”

  Paula went to the door. There were few men who, when asked by this curvaceous blond to come in, would demur. Conners was not one of them.

  “Hello, Mitch.”

  Conners snapped around at Harry’s voice.

  “Oh, the private dick.” His words managed to carry disgust.

  “You make that call?”

  Harry nodded.

  “I should run you in for wasting department time.”

  “Good idea, Mitch.”

  “It’s Deputy to you Grim.”

  “Fine, run me in, Deputy, and we can sit down and talk with the sheriff about Alison Albright, breaking into houses, drinking, drugs and poor Alison’s missing charm bracelet.”

  Harry saw his arrow strike home. C
urious how intensely everyone remembers that night twenty years on. Was there ever anyone who ever doubted Albright was dead?

  Conners stalled. He looked at Paula, then Harry.

  “Not in front of her. Not in this office, you might have it wired.”

  “Nervous, Mitch?”

  “Don’t push me, Grim. Let’s go outside.”

  They took the elevator. The door closed. It rattled as it began to move then jerked to a halt when Mitch slammed his hand down on the emergency stop. Harry found a gun against his forehead. He saw a ferocity in Conners’ eyes that made him dangerous.

  “I warned you Grim. Don’t push.”

  Harry shrugged. “Don’t bluff, Mitch. You better kill me right now, or put that gun away before I count to three. Because if you try and miss you’re dead, and if you succeed, you’ll be dead within twenty-four hours anyway.”

  “You think your little pal Paula will ‘avenge’ you?” he snickered.

  Harry calmly swung his head, no “Not that friend,” Harry answered flatly, emphasizing the middle word.

  Grim’s cool nonchalance unnerved Conners, who found, most people cowered before a gun. Harry saw the flicker of fear on Conners’ face, like the momentary shutter of a video feed. He began to count, “One, two, …”

  The gun came down.

  “What do you want?” Conners asked nervously.

  “Answers. How did you end up with Alison’s charm bracelet?”

  Conners swallowed hard, as if something were stuck in his throat, most likely his sense of self-importance.

  “It broke while she was fooling around. I picked it up and put it in my pocket to hold for her.”

  “Why not simply give it back?”

  “She was busy. Besides she didn’t have any pockets at the time.” Conners’ laugh was that of a crude adolescent.

  “I’ll bet. You knew her before the party didn’t you?” Harry was bluffing.

  “Andy and I did. We occaisional smoked a little pot together. She wanted an in with the upperclassmen. Andy told her she could come to the party if she would provide some entertainment.”

  “And what was on the program?”

  “Stripping. The rest of what went on was her idea. Nobody forced her to do anything.”

  “Did you get one of her blackmail letters?”

  Mitch shook his head, “No, what letter?”