Текст книги "Fatal Scandal"

Автор книги: Marie Force

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter Seventeen

“What’ve we got?” Sam asked when she walked into Bill Springer’s Georgetown office.

Officer Peterson, a patrolman, consulted his notes. “Bill Springer, age sixty-three, was found by his assistant, Pamela Desjardens, when she arrived for work at seven thirty-five. The office lights were on, Mr. Springer was on the floor and there was no sign of a struggle.”

The result of a struggle could be cleaned up in the aftermath, Sam thought. “Forced entry?”

“Not that we were able to ascertain.”

“Have you touched him?”

“Only to check for a pulse.”

Sam squatted to take a closer look at the body. Like Lori Phillips, he had ligature marks around his neck that were indicative of manual strangling.

“Where’s the admin?”

“Across the hall at one of the other offices. She was freaking out, and she has a friend over there. I thought it would be okay for her to wait there to speak to you.”

“Good call, Peterson.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Let’s get Crime Scene here and do a canvas of the other offices in the building to see if anyone heard anything. You’ve called the ME?”

“On her way.”

Sam turned to the chief, who stood in the hallway looking down at the man who’d caused him endless grief in the last few weeks. Farnsworth’s face had taken on that grayish hue again after hearing the news about Bill Springer. Beside him, Deputy Chief Conklin took in the scene.

“What’re you thinking, Lieutenant?” Conklin asked.

“That someone is trying to make trouble for the MPD. Big trouble.” She went over to Springer’s desk, where a planner sat open. She pulled on a pair of gloves and flipped through the last few days, noting the lack of anything written on the most recent pages. Either he’d stopped writing down his appointments or he’d stopped taking them. “I’d like to talk to the admin.”

“Sure, right this way.” Peterson led them across the hall to where a young blonde sat on a sofa, being comforted by another woman. “Ms. Desjardens, this is Lieutenant Holland, Chief Farnsworth and Deputy Chief Conklin. They’d like to talk to you about what happened this morning.”

She nodded and wiped tears from her face. “I...I got to work early and...and Bill...he was on the floor. I went to him, and he was cold. So cold.”

“Ms. Desjardens, do you know of anyone who might’ve wanted to harm Mr. Springer?”

She shook her head. “He hadn’t been working much lately. After everything with his sons...”

“How long have you worked for him?”

“About two years now?”

“And were you only his employee?” Sam asked, playing a hunch.

She looked up at Sam, her tear-ravaged face red and swollen. “What?”

“Were you involved with Mr. Springer in any other way than professionally?”

“We were friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not what I’m asking, as we all know.”

“You don’t have to answer that, Pam,” the other woman said with a scowl for Sam.

“Um, yeah, she does have to answer.”

The air around them vibrated with anticipation.

“He’d been through a lot lately. It was a really upsetting time.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam said as her patience ran out. “Were you sleeping with him, Pam?”

She dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders heaving with sobs.

The other woman rubbed her back while continuing to glare at Sam. “Don’t you have any compassion?”

“Lots of it, but I’ve also got a dead body across the hall, and I’m trying to figure out what happened to him.”

“You should ask your chief. He had a good reason to see Mr. Springer dead.”

“Except he didn’t kill him, so you might want to watch out for lobbing baseless accusations at innocent people. Pamela, I need you to answer the question, or we’ll have to transport you to HQ to discuss this further.”

“You’re going to arrest me?”

“Only if you don’t cooperate.”

“Yes! I slept with him. Are you happy now?”

“Not particularly. Lot of paperwork involved with dead bodies. Makes for a complicated day. How long had you been banging him?”

“Awhile,” she said through gritted teeth.

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

“Every woman knows the exact date she first had sex with the guy in her life. So how long are we talking? A week? A month? A year?”

“A year,” she said softly, so softly Sam almost didn’t hear her.

“That’s a long time. So this was about more than comforting him after his tragic losses then, huh?”

“I loved him! He loved me! He was going to leave his wife, and then Hugo was killed and Billy.”

“Anyone in your life unhappy that you were getting busy with a guy old enough to be your father? Like your own father? An ex-boyfriend or a protective older brother?”

She shook her head. “No one knew.”

“No one at all? You didn’t tell a girlfriend or the woman who worked across the hall from you?” She eyed the friend. “No one?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. Bill said... He said we had to keep it quiet until he got divorced or she’d take him for everything he had. We were going to move to Florida.” All at once it seemed to dawn on her that she wouldn’t be moving to Florida or anywhere else with Bill Springer. She broke down into heartbroken sobs, leaning into her friend, who kept an arm around her.

“Do you have a way to get home?” Sam asked.

“I’ll take her,” the friend said.

“I’ll need both of you to write down your names and phone numbers in case we have follow-up questions.” Sam handed her notebook to the friend and then turned to Farnsworth and Conklin. They’d tried to talk the chief out of coming here, but he’d insisted. “What do you make of it?”

“I have no idea what to make of it,” Farnsworth said. “We need to notify Springer’s wife and family.”

“I’ll do it,” Sam said, though she had no desire to be the one to bring more bad news to Mrs. Springer. “You should get out of here before the media catches wind.”

“I agree, Chief,” Conklin said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Fine, let’s go,” Farnsworth said. “You’ll keep me posted?”

“Of course.” After they left, Sam retrieved her notebook from the women. “Stay local in case we need to reach you.”

Pamela nodded as she stared vacantly at the far wall of her friend’s office. “What am I supposed to do now? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Let’s get you home, Pam,” the friend said.

Sam walked out of the office to find Peterson in the hallway. “Anything on the canvas?”

“Not yet. We haven’t found anyone who was here last night.”

Lindsey McNamara came through the door from the stairwell, carrying her field case. “Morning,” she said.

“Morning, Doc.” Sam gestured for Lindsey to follow her into Springer’s office. “Keep me posted, Peterson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This is going to be another shitstorm, huh?” Lindsey asked when they were alone with Springer’s body. She secured her long red hair into a ponytail before getting to work assessing the victim.

“Yeah.” Sam removed her suit jacket and tossed it over a chair. “Can you give me an estimated time of death?”

“Based on the temperature and the rigor, I’d say sometime before midnight, but I can’t give you anything exact until I get him back to the lab.”

“Roll with me for a second here.”

“Sure.”

“First we have the woman who accused Gonzo of conspiring with the judge to screw her out of custody of their kid. Then we have the lawyer who’s been all over the chief about the botched investigation. Call me crazy, but this feels like a deliberate effort to undermine the department.”

“I can see why you’d think so, but is it possible that neither murder had anything to do with the department?”

“Of course it’s possible, but the murders of two people who were causing trouble for us in two days feels too calculated to be random.”

“So what’re you thinking?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Saw you on TV. You guys rocked it. I was cracking up laughing in pity for poor Monica.”

“She was a boob. Five seconds before she referred to me as Lieutenant Cappuano, I’d told her I was not there as the vice president’s wife.”

“You certainly did a good job of reminding people not to jump to conclusions.”

“Imagine the conclusions they’ll jump to when this hits the news.”

“Gonna be ugly,” Lindsey said bluntly.

Sam waited for the Crime Scene detectives to arrive and for Lindsey’s team to remove Springer’s body. People from other offices stood in the hallway to watch the proceedings. She figured she had a matter of minutes to get to Mrs. Springer before the news hit Twitter or Facebook.

As she drove to the MacArthur Boulevard home of Marissa Springer, Sam called Freddie.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What’s up?”

“Someone killed Springer.”

“Seriously? Oh my God. Hang on just a second.” When he came back, he spoke in a normal tone. “What the hell is going on?”

“I have no freaking clue, but we’re going to need to get one fast before our department gets dragged through the mud even worse than we have been lately.”

“I was watching the news this morning. You and the chief killed it on CBC.”

“For all the good it did us. The second the news about Springer hits, people will forget all about that.”

“What can I do?”

“Are you working today?”

“Elin is still in the hospital.”

“Oh, damn, really? How come?”

“The punch broke bones in her face. They kept her for observation. I’m not sure when they’re going to let her out.”

“You should be with her. Take a personal day.”

“You need me. With Gonzo out—”

“We’re okay. Take care of her and check in with me later.”

“She’ll probably be going home later, and I can work from home. Hit me up if I can help.”

“I will. Tell Elin I hope she feels better.”

“Will do.”

Sam ended the call with her partner, and placed a second call, her stomach clenching as she pressed Send.

Hill answered on the second ring. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, hey, so I need your help.”

“Really. Did it pain you to say those words?”

“More than you know. Bill Springer was found murdered in his office this morning.”

“Seriously? Fuck.”

“You said it. I need you, Avery. I need someone outside the department making sure we aren’t going to get totally screwed by this.”

“I’m not working today. Terrell is available.”

“I need you, not your deputy. You.”

“I have a situation on the home front. I need to be here.”

“What kind of situation does a single guy with no kids have on the home front?”

“A badly injured girlfriend.”

Sam sighed with frustration about the case and empathy for her friend. “So she’s badly injured? I though Cruz said she only skinned her knees. It’s not the baby, is it?”

“The baby is fine. She’s just... I can’t leave.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Hill?”

His deep sigh set off a whole new wave of anxiety within Sam. “She found out about the thing, between us, back when we first met.”

“There was no thing between us! What the hell?”

“The one-sided thing.”

“You fucking told her that? Is this why she called in sick today? She’s pissed with us?”

“She called in sick today because her knees and hands are a mess and the ER docs advised her to take it easy for a few days.”

“And because she’s pissed.”

“Maybe a little.”

“A little. Right. Thanks a lot for this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you sharing something like that with her.”

“I like her, Sam. It was way past time to be honest with her.”

“So now she thinks you’re dating her to get closer to me.”

“I assured her that is not the case.”

“Way to go, Hill. Seriously, great job.” Sam thought about when Shelby and Avery were first dating and how she’d told Shelby to keep him far, far away from them—Nick in particular. Now Shelby knew why and was hurt. Excellent. “This is just what we needed with Nick starting the new job and me dealing with someone who has a beef with my colleagues.”

“I’m sorry if the timing was inconvenient for you, Lieutenant.”

“Forget I called. I don’t need your help with this or anything else.” She hung up on him and threw the phone into the passenger seat. “Motherfucker!”

Her mind reeled with the implications of Shelby finding out about Avery’s so-called crush. What Shelby must be thinking! Ugh. As Sam pulled onto MacArthur Boulevard, she took a call from Gonzo.

“Hey, how’s it going?” she asked.

“Never better. What’s the latest?”

“Well, Springer’s admin found him dead on the floor of his office this morning. Also manually strangled.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am.” She heard Gonzo conveying the news to Christina.

“This is unbelievable.”

“Starting to feel like a vendetta.”

“No kidding.”

“So I’m at MacArthur now. I got the short straw and have to tell Marissa Springer. Just looking at the place where Brooke was attacked gives me hives.”

“You should get someone else to do it.”

“No time. People know. It’ll be all over social media if it’s not already.”

“Shit, Sam. What the hell is this?”

“I wish I knew, but I don’t like it. And with all my best people dealing with other shit.”

“Where’s Cruz?”

“Elin is in the hospital with broken facial bones from an incident at the gym yesterday.”

“Shit. What about Hill? Shouldn’t we call in the Feds since this is all about us in some way?”

“He’s sent his deputy because he’s dealing with a personal issue with my assistant, who’s pissed off at him, me and Nick because none of us told her about Hill’s thing with me.”

“What thing with you?”

“You honestly don’t know?”

“No idea. Don’t tell me you and him... You met him after you were with Nick.”

“There was nothing between him and me, except for in his dreams. And now Shelby knows that.”

“Hill had a thing for you? Seriously? Does he have a death wish? And how did I miss this?”

“I don’t know. He was pretty fucking obvious about it. Nick hates his guts.”

“That I had noticed, and I wondered why since Nick likes everyone. It all makes sense now.”

“And it’s the last fucking thing I need right now with him starting the new job and someone targeting my department. Now I’ve got a wounded assistant and friend who thinks I pushed her toward her boyfriend to get his attention away from me.”

“Did you?”

“No! But if that happened, I wasn’t going to be sad about it.”

“I’m coming back to work. Enough of this sitting around shit. With Cruz out and the trial starting for Jeannie tomorrow, you need me.”

“I can’t let you come back until you’ve been medically cleared, Gonzo. You know that.”

“Fuck that. I’m coming back. I’ll work for free. I’ll call you when I get to the city.”

“Gonzo.”

“See you shortly.”

Sam stashed the phone in her suit coat pocket and got out of the car, dreading what she had to tell Marissa Springer, but secretly relieved to know she’d have Gonzo’s help. It was too soon for him to come back, but she’d take all the help she could get to figure this out before more damage was done to the department and the people she cared about.

As she approached the door to the house where her niece’s life was changed forever, Sam felt queasy reliving the horror of that night and the days that followed. Brooke was doing better. She was back to school in Virginia and trying to repair her life with the help of intense counseling. But she would never be the same person who’d walked into Hugo Springer’s house that night.

Sam rang the doorbell and heard it echo through the three-story townhouse. Several minutes passed before the inside door swung open to reveal the Springers’ housekeeper, Edna Chan, who’d been the one to discover the bodies of Hugo and eight of his friends in the basement.

“Help you?” the woman asked, though Sam had no doubt Edna recognized her.

Sam showed her badge. “May I please speak to Mrs. Springer?”

Edna’s brows narrowed. “How come?”

“I need to speak to her.” Sam could almost see the woman’s internal debate as she tried to decide what she should do.

Finally, she pushed open the storm door and indicated for Sam to follow her to the front living room. “Have a seat. I’ll get her.”

“Thank you.”

Sam was frankly surprised the Springers were still living in the house where one of their sons killed the other. If, God forbid, something like that ever happened in her home, she’d never be able to step foot in there again.

The woman who came into the room a few minutes later barely resembled the Marissa Springer she’d met during the earlier investigation. Her blond hair was stringy and greasy looking, her face pale and puffy. She wore sweatpants and a dirty sweatshirt.

Sam, who’d remained standing while she waited, had to make an effort to hide her shock at the woman’s disheveled appearance.

“Why are you here?” she asked in a dull, flat tone.

“I need to speak to you. About your husband.”

“What about him?”

“Can you come have a seat?” Sam gestured to the sofa.

Marissa eyed her suspiciously but did as she asked.

Sam joined her. “I’m very sorry to have to tell you your husband was found dead in his office this morning.”

“Did the tart he was screwing find him?”

Taken aback by the woman’s venomous words, Sam wasn’t sure how to respond.

“You’re surprised I knew?” Marissa said with a harsh laugh. “I knew everything that stupid, worthless man did because I’ve had him followed for years. He thought he was going to get rid of me and run away with a woman younger than his daughters? Not on my watch.”

This had not gone at all like Sam had expected it to, so she recalibrated. “Mrs. Springer, where were you last night?”

“Right here. I hated his guts, but I didn’t kill him.”

“Were you here by yourself?”

“Edna was with me. We ordered in Chinese and watched a movie. I went to bed at ten.”

“The investigator who followed your husband, could you please give me his name and number if you know it?”

“I know it. I’ve called it every day for five years.” She wrote the information in Sam’s notebook.

“What made you decide to start having him followed?”

“A combination of things. I knew Billy was up to no good and Bill kept blowing it off as a ‘boys will be boys’ thing, which infuriated me. Then I found out Bill was profiting from Billy’s illegal activities.”

“Profiting how?” Sam asked, feeling the buzz that she lived for as a homicide investigator.

“He... He knew Billy was a dealer and provided legal advice to him and his colleagues in drug dealing. I blame him for what happened to Hugo and his friends, not Billy. He could’ve put a stop to it years ago, but he chose to support him instead. It’s his fault my babies are dead.”

“Did your husband know you blamed him for the deaths of your sons?” Sam asked as she tried to process what Marissa was telling her.

“You bet your life he knew. I kicked him out of here the day after Billy’s funeral, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“The guy you had following him, I assume you didn’t call him off after you kicked him out?”

“Oh, hell no. He’s been reporting in every day.”

Sam really wanted to talk to him—like right now. “Mrs. Springer.”

“Please, call me Marissa. Mrs. Springer reminds me of the man I was married to.”

“Marissa, I can’t help but notice you seem unwell.” Dirty, unkempt and disheveled were more accurate words. “I know you’ve been through an awful time.”

“I hope you never know the kind of pain I’m in, Lieutenant,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“Have you spoken to a doctor?”

She shook her head. “That would take more energy than I can seem to muster these days. I’m not sleeping. I can’t eat. It’s just...” And then tears were spilling down her cheeks. “That my son could’ve killed his brother and all those other kids. It haunts me, you know?”

Sam couldn’t begin to imagine how it must feel to have given birth to a man who was capable of what Billy Springer had done. “I have a good friend who’s a doctor. Would you like me to call him and ask him if he’d stop by to see you?”

“I...I, yes, that would be very kind of you. Thank you.” She paused before she added, “Bill hated you—and your husband.”

“Oh. Well...”

“It was only because he wanted someone to blame for what Billy did. But he—and Billy—were the ones to blame. He knew all along it was going to lead back to Billy. I asked him. That first night after we got that horrible call, I asked him if it was Billy, and he told me to shut up, that he’d kill me if I ever said that to anyone.” She wiped away more tears. “He knew it was Billy.”

Sam thought about the confrontation Springer had with Chief Farnsworth, when Sam had stopped him from punching the chief in the face. He’d been so angry about the homicide investigation leading to his son.

“Do you know how Bill and Billy found out that the homicide investigation was closing in on them?”

“They were here, both of them. Billy got a phone call and started screaming at the person on the other end. He ran out of here, and the next time I saw him was at the morgue.”

“You don’t know who called him?”

She shook her head.

“About what time was it when he received that call?”

“Around eight.”

“I really appreciate your help, and I’m sorry again for your losses.”

“Thank you for that and all you did to get justice for Hugo and the others.”

“I’ll have my friend Dr. Harry Flynn stop by to see you.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“The media is going to descend again once the word gets out about Bill. If there’s somewhere else you can go, this might be a good time to get out of town.”

“I’ll go to the house in Aspen. Tomorrow.”

“Could you please write down your phone number in case I need to reach you again?”

She took the notebook from Sam as Edna appeared in the doorway looking nervous and undone.

“Edna?” Marissa asked. “What is it?”

“They call from Mr. Bill’s office building. They say he’s dead.”

“Yes, he is. That’s what Lieutenant Holland has come to tell me.”

“It’s too much,” Edna said, shaking her head in dismay. “It’s all too much.”

“Can you tell me where Mrs. Springer was last night from around ten o’clock until this morning?”

“She was here. We got food from the China Express and we watched one of those silly TV movies. What was it called?”

“Her Secret Stalker,” Marissa replied.

“Yes, that’s it.”

“And neither of you left all evening?”

“No,” Edna said. “We stay home.”

Marissa sent her housekeeper a warm smile. “Edna has been my savior through all of this. I couldn’t have managed without her.”

“Thank you for your time, Marissa. I can see myself out.”