One Deadly Sister Part 17

Ray jumped in, "And you say I'm crazy!"

"You are crazy."

"But Sandy, that's no kind of deal-all his way. He's the one who arrested me. He's on the job. He's using you. Either that or he's just trying to get you in the sack."

"Maybe he's not the sacker, maybe he's the sackee." She went on, "And it's not all his way. He agreed to listen to what I have to say. Of course, I'm going to feed him only exculpatory information."

Kagan looked at Ray who nodded that he understood the word. Kagan warned, "Even information favorable to the defense can be twisted around in court. You're on dangerous ground, young lady."

"He underestimates me. People have always underestimated me. It's a neat little swindle I've been running all my life. It's to our advantage with Chip, at least so far. He doesn't believe he's disclosing any info. I just get him talking and then read between the lines."

"Hope you don't fall off the high wire," Kagan said.

"If he has doubts about your guilt right now, wait until I get through with him. Plus, I can run around town without the police on my tail every minute. We exchanged phone numbers. If he calls take a message, okay?"

"Not funny, you're reckless," Ray said.

She rested her hand on Kagan's shoulder. "Jerry, I wanted you to know. I didn't want you blindsided later by the deal. Chip-notice I call him Chip now-is okay. Did you know some b.a.s.t.a.r.d shot his dad at a Stop-and-Rob? He was police chief, wasn't even on duty, just going out for ice cream."

"I know," Kagan said, "and Chip's always been straight with me. He isn't too popular around the station because he moved up to Detective so fast."

"True, he needs to do a super job on this homicide. Worst thing that could happen to him in his career right now is to screw this up. Was he ever married?"

"Not as far as I know," Kagan answered. "He's not a wallflower. He was serious about a woman, the County Appraiser's daughter, for a while. That was a few years back. An attorney at the courthouse told me his legal secretary now has something going with him."

"Something going with him," she repeated under her breath.

"What does the detective's love life have to do with anything?" Ray wondered aloud."

"I promise I'll be careful about what I let him know. At least up until the point where I get something going with him. Did I tell you he has perfect eyes?"

"It's in my notes somewhere." Ray laughed and relaxed back in his chair; he just realized his invaluable sister might be interested in sticking around for a few more days.

Chapter 22.

She had been in Park Beach five days and Sandy wasn't pleased with her progress. It was Sunday and turning out to be a bad day to get things done. She had some notes to go over with Jerry Kagan but his law office was closed. Linda would be happy to see her but wasn't working at the newspaper that day. And Sunday visiting hours at the jail were not until later. She wondered if Chip was snuggled at home with Miss Legal Secretary. After looking through her notes, she decided it was time to check out Norma Martin, the woman who wouldn't talk to Chip.

She pulled her Miata convertible into the lot behind the Jardin Cafe just as another woman parked and started walking to the restaurant. The woman was slightly underweight but nicely filled out her peasant blouse and tapered designer jeans. She wore her dark auburn hair pulled back tightly and wrapped with a band, the long bunch at the back bounced around her bare shoulders. Sandy guessed she couldn't be over forty at the most. Sandy envied the confident way she walked. She glided effortlessly over the rough gravel in her stilettos like a model on a runway.

She noticed Sandy and glided over. "We don't open until five. Love your little red car. I've seen it around town." Then she frowned. "I know where, the police station-you're police!"

Sandy hesitated only an instant. "No, I'm a reporter. I'm looking for Norma Martin."

The color faded from the woman's face. She took a step back and studied Sandy. "You're a reporter?" The woman almost shrieked, "How did you find me?" She turned and hurried into the restaurant.

Sandy hit speed dial #1 on her phone. It rang for some time before G.o.ddard answered. "Will you trace a tag for me, Chip?"

"It's Sunday, go read the comics."

She read off the tag from the woman's car. "It's a white Buick Century, tag says Hillsborough County."

There was a long pause and then he said, "Okay, got it. Where did you spot this vehicle?"

"At the Jardin Cafe."

"You shouldn't be out there." Then, after a minute, "Tag is registered to one Elena Duarte in Tampa. I know she's a cook at the cafe. No surprise her vehicle would be there. What are you up to?"

"I think it was Norma Martin. I think she's connected to the murder."

"She already told me she lives with Elena Duarte, although I'm not too sure of that. Probably uses her vehicle. What else?"

"I saw her. She acted guilty."

"That's it, she acted guilty? That's nice, she acted guilty. Sandy, you didn't talk to her, did you?"

"I met her in the parking lot. No, I didn't actually talk to her. She thought I was a reporter and came all apart. Give me her address."

"You're not getting it. I don't think our deal is going to work. I need to know what you're doing, and I need to know in advance before you screw up something. Goodbye."

"Give me a chance, buddy," she said into her dead phone.

She opened her laptop and searched the Internet white pages for Elena Duarte. A phone number in Tampa came up. She punched in the number and got an answering machine with the default male electronic voice saying please leave a message. Sandy sat confused. So, we have a Norma Martin living in Park Beach with this Elena Duarte who doesn't live in Park Beach, and Norma uses Elena's car registered miles away in Tampa. Now she needed to talk to both Norma and this Elena.

She drove back into town and parked in the police station parking lot intending to visit Raymond at the jail. She had just parked when Miss Runway Glider in her white Buick Century pulled in fast and stopped alongside. She motioned for Sandy to come over.

"I followed you," she spoke rapidly with no trace of accent, "please get in so we can talk. I shouldn't be seen with you. I see your car parked here with police cars almost every day. I need help. What's your name?"

"Sandy. Hey, I'm not a reporter and I'm not police."

"You must know the police, you always park here."

"If that's good, I do. If that's bad, I don't," Sandy slid in beside her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm in trouble and my people can't help me. The police are going to arrest me. This is very strange, but you must believe me. Everything was okay until Albert was killed."

"You can say that again," Sandy replied. "Okay, slow down. You called him Albert. You knew him from the restaurant, I suppose."

"No, we would never go to the restaurant together, never. The way it started, they told me he'd be speaking at a street fair one day, so I followed him around. I flirted with him like I was told and it worked. That was the plan. He didn't take the bait immediately, but I know how to get a man interested."

"No kidding."

The woman was excited. "They'll find some of my things in his apartment. They'll arrest me. I didn't kill him. It's all political and terrible and all screwed up."

"What plan? Slow down and start at the beginning."

"I was supposed to meet him and have an affair. I was to leave a trail of evidence so when people checked it out, it would look like he was having an affair with Norma Martin.

Sandy didn't get it. "You mentioned your people. Who are we talking about here?"

"Some of my Tampa relatives are part of La Familia. I don't understand it all, it's about politics. Anyway, after his campaign got rolling, all the evidence about him being involved with Norma Martin would come out and embarra.s.s him. She's married and the scandal would ruin his election. Then I'd disappear, move back to Tampa."

"In the first place, I don't think a politician as smart as the senator would get involved with a married woman."

"He didn't get involved with a married woman, he got involved with me. He checked me out and found I'm not married. But of course, Norma Martin is."

That stopped Sandy. It took a moment for her to ask slowly, "So, you're not Norma Martin?"

"She's my mother. Just turned sixty but looks much younger, so she fit the plan okay. She's the one who runs the restaurant."

"So, who are you?"

"Elena Duarte. I'm an accountant from Tampa. They brought me down here just to set up the senator."

"You're telling me Towson actually fell for this charade? Who did he think you were?"

"I was myself, Elena Duarte from Tampa. That's why I checked out okay for him. Why would he suspect anything? He saw my driver's license, pa.s.sport, and everything. We took some great trips. He didn't show me off in public around here because I'm twenty years younger. Why be common about it, he once said. But if it ever did come out, so what, he was a normal bachelor dating a younger woman, both single, no big deal. Might even gain him some votes. He wasn't aware that in the meantime, we were spreading the rumor he was seeing a married Norma Martin."

Sandy understood. "It might work for awhile. Rumors don't have to be precise. Some would believe it and some wouldn't; the confusion would be all that was needed. Even so, eventually someone would tip him to the rumors going around."

"The plan was to keep it going until he figured it out. It only had to work for a month or so. At a critical time, they would drop both names like a bomb on the Towson campaign. He'd have two women to explain: was it a mother and daughter thing, or was he only doing the daughter?"

"It would ruin him." Sandy realized she might not get another chance at getting answers out of this woman. "Did you shoot him?"

"No! Don't you see my problem? I fell in love with him." She stared off into the distance, her mind apparently overtaken by a cloud of memories. She started to cry. Sandy handed her a tissue. It took a minute before she could stop and speak again, "He was my lover and now he's dead." The crying began again.

"But, if you loved him wouldn't they be afraid you'd come forward and reveal the plot? What could they do?"

"I don't know. They might kill me or go after my mother."

"Geez, they play rough. And a dead mistress would be even better. Norma, ah, Elena, this was a sc.u.mmy deal you were pulling."

"I know, I know. But I had to. I refused at first. I told them I'd date him but that was it. Truthfully, I haven't been around that much; I'm a lot of show but not much go. I wasn't going to do the whole s.e.x bit with some strange man, even if he was a rich, good-looking bigshot. I'm an accountant, for G.o.d's sake. That's when they sent Pirro around to explain how it was going to be."

"Pirro?"

"He's one of the goons that do dirty work for La Familia, the strong arm stuff. He said I must become Towson's girlfriend and do what girlfriends do, the whole enchilada. The creep said he'd be glad to help me practice. He said to either screw Towson or screw him."

"The old fate worse than death thing."

"Yes, and I could die. Pirro uses wh.o.r.es. Mom calls it VD but it's HIV. He doesn't care about spreading it. He's the lowest lowlife. One day, in the restaurant kitchen, he started telling this long dirty joke, loud to everyone one in the room, except I was the girl in the joke. He kept putting my name in his filthy joke as if I was doing all that stuff. I was embarra.s.sed and terrified. Mom overheard him and lost it. She flew into him, slammed him up against the wall, and held this monstrous kitchen knife across his throat. She said if he ever touches me, she'd cut off his cojones. You understand?"

"Got it."

"But crazy people like Pirro don't scare easily. He got mad, said n.o.body threatens him, and someday he'd do her, while I watched."

"If she gets in his way, why doesn't he just kill her?"

"He doesn't dare to kill anyone unless he's ordered to. He tried to scare her once though. Mom's fourth floor apartment has a tiny balcony. He tried to get her to step out there with him one night. Said he had something to show her down below in the pool. He was just trying to scare her. He wouldn't kill her, at least not when he's sober."

"But it's alright if he screws you guys?"

"Not exactly alright but the family realizes s.e.x happens. It's something else. Not a big thing with them."

It occurred to her that Elena wasn't telling the real story. "So, Mom is saving you from Pirro."

"Yes, to some extent. He's scared of her threat. But he's been after me since the first. Every time he sees me, he corners me and tries to feel me. He puts his awful breath in my face and describes his-you know-his arousal to me. Now he's free to do what he wants."

"Why now?"

"Because the game is over. He knew the plan was important to La Familia while Albert was alive. Pirro fooling around with me in the middle of things could mess up everything. So, it was hands off. La Familia doesn't need me for the plan now because Albert's no longer a political threat. They have what they want, and Pirro has a green light with me. If he touches me I'll get sick. My perfect lover is dead, and I'm running from both Pirro and the police."

She was crying again so Sandy changed the subject, "Do you have a red and blue scarf?"

"Yes I do, silk with red and blue triangles. I got it at Burdines years ago. I wear accessory scarves a lot. I suppose you found it, huh? I left it at Albert's with my white leather jacket in the small closet off the master bath. That doesn't mean I was there when he was killed. I have other things there too."

"Were you in his apartment the day he was killed?

"Am I supposed to answer these questions?"

Sandy reached in her purse. "Here's the card of Detective G.o.ddard. He's a straight shooter and he needs your help. He needs your fingerprints and your DNA and what you saw and when, all that."

"Sure, and then he arrests me."

Sandy had a momentary guilty thought that she'd rather see this cookie behind bars than her brother. Then it would be a fast trip back to Philly. Still, she had to be honest with her. "The detective needs your help to catch the real killer. But if you killed Towson or were even in his apartment that day, you need to immediately get yourself a lawyer."

"I just want to go back to my life in Tampa."

"The police will find you. They have evidence you've been in the apartment. And you still must keep Pirro from getting to you and your mom."

"Maybe I'll get a gun. Maybe he'll have an accident."

"Would you kill Towson if the family ordered you to?"

"I'd kill myself first. We were lovers."

"Would you do anything to save your mom from Pirro?"

"Absolutely."

Sandy decided to be blunt. "Would you carry out an order to kill Towson to keep Pirro from raping your mother?"

Elena hid her face in her hands. "I loved Albert." She abruptly started her car and motioned vigorously for Sandy to get out.