Capital Crimes

15

After Bledsoe was duly escorted out of the interview room, Barnes shut the door and lowered his voice. “Little rough, don’t you think?”

Decker faced Barnes, eye to eye. “Let him sue. I meant what I said.”

Barnes dropped the issue. Why piss off someone who was helping him out? Besides, he’d been in similar situations.

Decker said, “If Bledsoe gets jail time and his alibis don’t check out, I’ll give you a call and you and your partner can take a shot at him again.” Tight smile. He brushed back the ginger mustache. Bristly hairs spread and fell back into place. “It’d probably be better if I wasn’t around. Marshall wasn’t my most sterling interview.”

“Seemed fine to me, Lieutenant. Thanks for the help.”

Decker stretched. His hands reached the ceiling. “Look, I caused him some grief and I’m not sorry about that. I know he’s caused mischief down here. But I’m thinking that alibi had too much detail for you guys and if he’s right about the time frame, it’s going to be tough tying him in directly.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Barnes concurred.

“Cody’s restaurant is about twenty minutes from here,” Decker said. “Marge will give you directions.”

“Thanks. We’ll track down Kris the waitress and see what she says. Even if she alibis him, we’ll check the airports to make sure he didn’t take a quick hop north.”

As they left the room, Decker said, “I would’ve liked to see it work out better for you. Murder trumps everything and that guy should be put away.”

Barnes said, “He was a long shot, Lieutenant. Egging’s a far cry from blowing someone’s head off.” He took out his card and handed it to Decker. “If we can ever reciprocate, just let me know.”

“Will do. And have Marge Dunn give you her card…just in case you need anything else.”

“I’ll do that,” said Barnes. “Just in case.”

Kris, the thirty-year-old blond waitress with a large chest and a face Barnes thought more okay than ugly, remembered both Bledsoes. How could she forget them? He was a surly jerk and Mom was foulmouthed.

“They left like a dollar tip on a twenty-dollar tab and acted like I was lucky to get that.”

“Do you remember what time they left?” Amanda asked her.

Kris twirled a strand of too-yellow hair. “Late, like ten. Like I remember thinking that if I could, you know, finish off with these assho…these people, like I’d be done for the evening. I was more gone than there, you know?”

“Thanks for helping us out,” Barnes said.

“Sure. Is he, like, in trouble?”

Barnes shrugged.

“He must be in trouble. Like why else would the police be asking about him? Doesn’t surprise me. He had a strange look.”

“Strange, how?”

Kris bobbed her head up and down. “You know…looking over his shoulder a lot.”

“Really?” Barnes asked.

“Sort of.” Again, she bobbed her head up and down. “Kind of. Or maybe he was just hungry and wanted his food faster than we could give it to him.”

Amanda said, “You should be a detective yourself.”

“Thanks.” Kris smiled a mouth of white, straight teeth. “I watch a lot of Law & Order, especially SVU. Christopher Meloni is hot.”

As soon as the plane took off, Amanda closed her eyes and fell asleep. The state of bliss lasted approximately fifteen minutes, until turbulence woke her up with a start. A flight attendant was urging everybody to return to their seats and buckle up. Amanda looked to her left, at Barnes gripping the armrests with white knuckles. The plane rocked in a sea of wind, and Barnes turned green around the gills.

She said, “Turbulence isn’t dangerous.”

“So they say.”

“It’s true. You should feel it in a small jet. Cork in a bathtub effect. You get used to it.”

Barnes stared at her. “Well, thank God, I don’t ever foresee me having that problem.”

“Hey, how many times have I offered to give you a ride somewhere gratis?”

“I hate flying.”

“You get all the catering you want.”

Will’s big hand clamped on his gut.

Uh-oh, wrong thing to say.

She kept her mouth shut and the turbulence faded.

“Really,” she said. “Hitch a ride with us one of these days.”

“Too rich for my blood,” said Barnes.

Amanda didn’t answer.

He said, “Don’t be sore, pard.”

“The hell I won’t. Being pissed is a God-given right even for rich folk.” She wagged a finger at him. “And it’s rather poor judgment of you to alienate me, especially after making a date with that tall drink of water. You might need a lift to LA.”

Barnes reddened. “We didn’t make a date- ”

“You exchanged numbers, William. What do you call that?”

“Just being polite- ”

Amanda laughed. Will’s blush was hilarious. From green to pink; today her partner was a Christmas tree.

She said, “She seemed nice if my opinion means anything. And she certainly understands the biz.”

“It’s nothing, Amanda. Just being courteous.”

“You’re not going to call her?”

“I didn’t say that. Should the timing be right- ”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can we drop this?” The seat belt sign turned off. Barnes felt more relaxed. He didn’t mind her ribbing but now he wanted to focus on work. “How about we talk about the case since that’s what we’re getting paid for?”

“Mr. Workaholic,” she said. “Yeah, you’re right. Now that Bledsoe and Modell have sunk to the bottom of our short list of suspects, I’m not feeling too perky. But I guess it puts us back in standard territory: someone close to Davida.”

Barnes nodded. “Someone close enough to her to know she was a closet drinker. The question is, who among her friends did she piss off that bad?”

“The gonorrhea can’t be ignored. Who she got it from and did she give it to someone. Tomorrow, we should talk to Minette and find out if she knew Davida was sick. If she doesn’t, she’s got to get tested. And if she doesn’t test positive, we have to find the partner who gave it to Davida if for no other reason than the public health issue.”

“And if Minette is infected,” said Barnes, “we have to find out if Minette gave it to Davida or was it the other way around.”

“You talked to Minette’s boyfriend…what’s his name?”

“Kyle Bosworth.”

“What about him as the bad guy?”

“What’s his motive?”

Amanda said, “Maybe he gave the clap to Minette, who gave it to Davida. Maybe Davida was going to tell Kyle’s partner about his infidelity and Kyle killed Davida to shut her up. People lead that kind of complicated life, anything can happen.”

“From what people have been telling us about Davida and Minette, I don’t see Davida caring all that much about Minette’s indiscretions.”

Amanda thought for a while. “Then what about this, Will: Alice Kurtag told you she thought Davida might have been having an affair with Jane Meyerhoff. Didn’t you say that Jane was married a bunch of times?”

“Three times. Donnie Newell said it.”

“The point is, Jane has sex with men.”

Barnes felt his cheeks go hot and looked away, but Amanda didn’t appear to notice. “Maybe Jane got the clap and gave it to Davida, who gave it to Minette, who gave it to Kyle. That would be a reason for Minette to be furious. In addition to it being evidence of Davida’s infidelity- ”

“Alleged infidelity. And Minette definitely cheats.”

“So she rationalizes it- Davida works all day, leaves her high and dry, but Davida has no excuse. The fact that Minette chose a man could be her way of pretending it didn’t count.”

“Kind of nutty. And narcissistic.”

“She has that theatrical quality about her, Will. Phoning ten times a day, maybe staging that break-in. The point is, Minette had plenty of reason to be angry at Davida. And she’d likely know about Davida’s drinking. Who better to sneak up and blow Davida’s head off? Plus the fact that it was probably done when Davida was sleeping could indicate a woman.”

“Why?”

“We’re a sneaky bunch.”

“Hey,” said Barnes, “I’m bringing you up on sexism charges at the next Berkeley Truth Council.”

“Don’t go there, pard.”

Both detectives laughed.

Barnes said, “Do you think that little Minette is big enough to handle a shotgun?”

“Talk about sexism- yeah, I do. All she had to do was handle it for one blast.”

“Her hands were clean,” Barnes said. Answering his own question: “So she washed them good.”

“Minette as the shooter would also explain staging the ransacking. What better way to turn suspicion away from yourself than to be a victim of a crime?”

Barnes turned silent.

After a few minutes, Amanda asked him what was on his mind.

“You’re making sense, Mandy.”

“Let’s ask around about Minette before we talk to her. You must know some people in common.”

“Why?”

“You seem to know everyone else attached to this case.”

“ Sacramento,” said Will. “It can be a small town. Everyone went to public school back then. Even rich kids like Davida and Jane ended up at the same high school as us regular folk. Their fathers owned the ranches and our fathers worked the ranches…you really see this as a female thing?”

“Why not?”

“To me, it feels like a man’s murder- cold, calculating, precise.”

“Davida didn’t have many men in her life,” Amanda said.

“She had a few…starting with Donnie Newell.”

“Back to him?”

“I’m not saying he did it. But they were close enough at one time for Donnie to say she was a pistol…” A pause. “Both her and Jane…” Again, Barnes fell silent. “I am not sex-obsessed. At this moment. I’m just saying there could be something that goes way back. And speaking of men, Jane’s last divorce was extremely messy.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked around,” he said. “Other high school buds. Her last husband was a financial type who lost his job. Jane didn’t take well to that and she didn’t want him getting any of her first two husbands’ cash.”

“Asking around,” said Amanda, so quietly Barnes had to read her lips over the plane’s roar.

Annoyed. He’d hotdogged it without telling her.

“Like I said, it’s a small town, Mandy.”

“So you did.”

The place was dark and smoky with the band playing Texas swing. There was sawdust on the floor and beer was flowing in a continuous stream from tap to glass. Just a half hour from Berkeley, Mama’s was a different world. Barnes was on his second Heineken but his third plate of Buffalo wings, wondering if she’d bother to show. She hadn’t sounded all that enthusiastic over the phone, but who could blame her? They’d never progressed beyond a few months of dating and a couple of meaningless bounces between the sheets.

Besides, as he’d explained, the call was business, not personal.

A shapely blonde approached his table. Tall. Like Marge Dunn. Narrower, with coltish legs- a body that could definitely handle the miniskirt. But unlike Dunn, this face was worn, desperation tugging down the eyes. Barnes wasn’t in the mood to play therapist to another wounded soul.

“Looking for some company?”

Barnes smiled and shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’m meeting someone here.”

“Some other time?” she suggested.

“Life is long.”

The blond woman didn’t exactly know how to interpret that. She walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips and for a moment, Barnes wondered if he’d done the right thing by shutting her down.

His ruminations were interrupted when he spotted Jane at the door. He stood and waved her over. She’d dressed way over the Mama’s level: tailored black pantsuit, sapphire-blue silk scarf worn like a choker around her neck, filmy edges shimmering in the turbulence created by dancing bodies.

She walked gingerly across the sawdust in pointy, high-heeled black boots, carrying an oversized black bag that could have been crocodile. She had a long face and long teeth but elegant carriage and demeanor and a lush body saved her from horsy. Her jet-black hair was poker straight and thick, and flowed over her shoulders like an oil spill. She came over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Her eyes were soft blue, red around the edges.

“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice,” Barnes said.

She looked at the chair, brushed off the seat with a paper napkin and sat down. “You couldn’t do better than this dive?”

“It’s on the way to Sacramento.”

“Thank you and I appreciate that, but so are a few fine restaurants, Will.”

“I like the music. How about some wings and a beer?”

“How about no wings and a Scotch?”

“That can be done.” Barnes signaled the waitress and ordered a Dewar’s on the rocks. Jane reached in her bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “You always were kind of a cowboy.” She lit up and blew out a plume of smoke. “So, what was so urgent that it couldn’t wait?”

“I’m talking to just about everyone who knew Davida, and you knew her very well.”

Jane shrugged. “And?”

“What can you tell me about her?”

Her eyes got wet. “She was a remarkable person. Committed to what she believed in, very comfortable in her own skin. I admired her so much, I still can’t believe…”

She started to cry. Barnes was right there with a napkin, but she elected to pull out a tissue from her exotic skin bag. She blew her nose and dabbed her eyes just as the waitress plunked down the glass. Barnes paid the bill and the tip and edged the glass closer to Jane. She sipped, took a second swallow. Half the whiskey was gone before she decided to resume the conversation.

“I talked to Lucille this afternoon. She and my mom are good friends.”

“Like you and Davida.”

Jane smiled. “Second generation…anyway, the poor old woman is having a rough time. I’m spending the night with her…I don’t want her alone.”

“That’s really nice of you, Jane.”

“Actually, I was thinking of moving in with her for a while…just until…”

Barnes waited for more.

“I don’t know what just until means,” Jane said. “She’s not even my mother and I feel the need to look after her. Make sure she doesn’t sink into a bad depression, although who could blame her if she did?”

Barnes nodded.

Jane said, “My mother never needs anyone. So strong. She comes across DAR but back when we had the ranch, she’d be sinking posts with the guys.”

“I know,” said Will.

“You were one of them?”

She didn’t even remember.

He said, “Summer job, I worked at a whole bunch of ranches. Your mom was tough.” Speeding up in that big, pink Lincoln, not a glance at the hired help as the car kicked up dust.

“Do you think it’s weird that I want to stay with Lucille? I haven’t asked her yet. I suspect she’ll say no.”

“She probably will refuse your hospitality, at first. Later on…” Barnes shrugged.

She frowned.

He said, “You feel close to her, it’s no sin.”

“I’ve known her forever. We’ve all known each other so long.” She finished her Scotch and Barnes called for a refill.

He said, “It’s nice to stay in contact with old friends. And Davida and you were very old friends.”

Jane nodded. “We hadn’t been in much contact for about fifteen years. But when I moved back to Berkeley, we picked up where we left off.”

Whatever that meant. “Did that cause any problems with Minette…your being so close to Davida?”

Jane stared at him.

He said, “Being such an old friend. Minette impresses me as the emotional type, with or without a good reason.”

“You’ve got that right, Will. Minette has a lot of problems and jealousy was one of them. She resented Davida nursing me through my divorce. Once Parker lost his money, his entire personality deteriorated. He’d waver between being a vicious bear and a passive lamb, you can’t even imagine. One moment, I was afraid he’d assault me, the next he’d be sobbing on the phone, begging me to come back to him. I’m sure you remember.”

Their big stab at dating had come just as Jane had split from Parker. One of those accidents, Barnes running into Jane on Shattuck, he coming off shift, exhausted, in a down mood. She leaving Chez Panisse. Alone. Needing to talk to someone.

They went for drinks. One thing led to another. She had a gorgeous body but her enthusiasm waned midway through.

He said, “I remember you being nervous about him. I don’t remember you saying he wanted you back.”

“I didn’t want to burden you with sordid details, Will. It was totally my fault that Parker and I got married. When I met him, I admired his machismo and his take-charge attitude. It took about four months to realize how controlling he was. That’s always been my mistake. I hook up with the ultramacho men and get surprised when they turn brutal. Call it growing up with a dominant mother and a father who wasn’t. I suppose I got used to people pushing me around and long for the daddy I never had…that’s what I really liked about Davida. She always let me be me.”

“You two travel together at all?”

Jane lifted her head from her Scotch, looked him square in the eye and didn’t answer him.

Barnes said, “Alice Kurtag said you two went away together for a few days to unwind.”

“Yes, we did.” Jane was still trying to stare him down. “What better way to get your mind off of your troubles? I was involved in a horrible divorce and Davida was stressed about the stem-cell bill. We went hiking and white-water rafting.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It was the best weekend I’d had in a long time.”

“Jane, I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but were you involved with Davida? I’m bringing it up because Davida was infected with gonorrhea and if you were- ”

“Are you serious?”

Barnes nodded.

“Hah.” Jane shrugged. “She never said a word to me about that. Then again, why would she? I would imagine she’d be embarrassed about it.” She glanced at her watch, finished off her Scotch and started to open her wallet.

Barnes stopped her. “My treat. So you’re okay healthwise.”

“I’m fine. Perfect. And in answer to your question, Davida and I were just friends. Period. I’m sure Minette gave it to her.” She stood up. “It’s getting late.”

“What’s the rush? It’s not that late and you’ve only got about thirty miles to go.”

“All true, Will, but still I’m done here.”