Big Money (Austin Carr Mystery) (16 page)

BOOK: Big Money (Austin Carr Mystery)
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FORTY-FIVE

 

OFFICE OF THE MEDICAL EXAMINER

 

Seaside County, N.J.

Forensic Pathology Summary

Body No. 244: Talbot, Ann Marie

External Examination

 

Body is clothed in a green, acetate-rayon dress which has been scorched, melted and destroyed along the tops of both shoulders. Burns are visibly consistent with position of body to charcoal burner and fire damage at scene.

A hand-lens examination of the burned fabric reveals loose fragments of victim’s carbonized tissue. Body is wearing no undergarments, stockings or shoes.

 

 

I glance up at Franny. “Talbot didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who dressed commando.”

“Maybe you raped her and kept her panties as a souvenir,” Franny says.

So much for playing Sherlock. Back to my perusal.

I think Franny’s mad she didn’t get to award me her previously offered carrot.

 

 

Body is that of an adult female Caucasoid, sixty-five and one-half inches in length, one
hundred nineteen pounds in weight. Outward appearance consistent with stated age of thirty-four years. Hair and eye-color are indeterminable due to carbonization and/or destruction of all indicative facial and cranial tissues. Portions of the left sphenoid bone, left eye orbit, the left zygomatic bone and arch, as well as the left portions of the maxilla and mandible are exposed and burned.

Visible contusions on victim’s neck suggest manual strangulation prior to burning, although condition of surviving tissue prevents observation of typical asphyxia results, i.e., broken facial capillaries and/or cranial hemorrhaging.

Examination of oral cavity reveals absence of all teeth and indications of prior elective removal. Matches dental records of stated victim.

Visible carbonization and destruction of tissue on thumbs and fingers. Suggests effort to prevent or delay identification.

Back and buttocks unremarkable.

There are no tattoos or significant scars.

Rigor mortis is firmly established. Lividity is prominent and consistent with position of body at scene.

 

 

The
internal
examination tells me more than any normal person would want to know about liver weight and stomach contents, but a couple of phrases catch my eye. One, the doc’s exam of the respiratory system “strongly indicates manual strangulation as cause of death,” and two, all of Ann Marie’s burns were “administered post-mortem.”

Choke
d dead, then burned. Kind of like kicking a dead horse, if you ask me. Suggests a lot of anger.

 

 

“What I find interesting is that the
murdered woman may not be Ann Marie Talbot,” Zimmer says. “You don’t even know the victim’s eye color.”

Guess Mr. Z was reading over my shoulder.

“The DNA results are due tomorrow,” Franny says.

Mr. Z shoots up
like a geyser to full height, stands there smirking. He pushes aside his chair and encourages me to do the same, then turns back to Franny, says, “Please call my office when your intuition becomes reality. Mr. Carr is done with your questioning for today, and he will no longer accept your protective custody.”

“The body
is
Ann Marie Talbot,” Franny says. Without getting up, she points her right forefinger at me. “And if he didn’t kill her, he knows who did.”

Mr. Z glares at her. “The truth is, Ms. Chapman, you are angry with my client over his testimony bef
ore the Grand Jury this morning, a Grand Jury that I am sure would very surprised to learn the DNA results are not back. Your mistake and your anger have caused you to falsely imprison Mr. Carr for several hours today. At present, I am only
considering
charges, but I can assure you there will be serious legal consequences if your behavior toward my client and the public good continues.”

Franny doesn’t blink. “Are you curious what
I
think’s interesting about this forensic summary?”

Zimmer clutches my arm.
“No.”

We show Franny our
backs, and I stay close as my legal guide and seer reaches for the doorknob. Mr. Z’s manicured fingernails are as perfect as clear plastic.

“Only two reasons
I
know to have your teeth surgically removed,” Franny says. “Singers sometimes do it for the sound, to change their tone or timbre. Prostitutes do it to give more expensive blow-jobs.”

I try to stop, but Zimmer pushes me through the
now open doorway. My right heel skids a few inches in protest. I can’t help it. I’m curious about the effects of tooth removal on oral sex.

“I think you found something in Talbot’s past and tried to blackmail her into changing that report,” Franny says. She pushes up from the walnut table. “When Talbot wouldn’t cooperate, wouldn’t let Shore off the hook, you killed her.”

Over his shoulder, Mr. Z says, “You should be writing screenplays.”

Franny
strides into the hallway as we’re walking away. I’d like to find out how much a toothless BJ costs, but Zimmer’s hand is pulling my elbow, forcing me farther away from the blond I like listening to. I guess he’s right. She’s not exactly friendly.

Two
uniformed cops strut side-by-side toward us down the otherwise empty passage. Behind them, late afternoon sun through streaked windows casts moving, undefined shadows on the floor. The cops wear shoes that click ominously on the cream colored marble.

Franny calls out.
“You’re going to jail very soon, Carr. Murder. Conspiracy. At the very least, perjury and lying to a state prosecutor.”

Mr. Z won’t let me stop or even turn to look.

“And maybe that AASD report on Shore
Securities should be part of my court filings on Bluefish this afternoon,” she says.

 

 

I don’t understand her threat until Mr. Z explains on the courthouse steps. If Franny includes Talbot’s preliminary AASD report in the complaint
file against Bluefish, Talbot’s co-mingling charges against Shore will be public record. Accessible to the newspapers.

If the reporters dig it up
—and it sounds like Franny will make sure they do—the headlines alone are going to bury us.

My shares in Shore Securities won’t be worth the price of a first-class stamp. Only scholarships will put my kids through college.

I’ll be back living in a Chevy camper.

 

 

 

FORTY-SIX

 

Clooney’s bar is lousy with pretty, sophisticated women. All the other birds fade to gray, however, with Gina perched among them. Arrow straight, raven shiny hair covers her ears and splits in two over each shoulder. Wonder how she lost the curls? Below a trim row of bangs, Gina’s super-sized, almond shaped eyes are shadowed like an Egyptian princess. A thick necklace of oblong gold rectangles completes the Cleopatra package.

I bow before sliding onto the stool beside her. “You summoned me, your Highness?”

Actually, Clooney’s was sort of my idea. I found Gina’s message saying she wanted to talk when I came home from the courthouse. I suggested a drink overlooking the ocean, maybe dinner if we found the right mood. Sure I’m half in love with Franny. She’ll always be Ms. Strawberry, a vision across the Martha’s crowded upstairs barroom. But one-half for Franny still leaves one-half for the new widow Gina, right? Tony was no pal of mine.

“I hear you refused to identify Mama Bones to a state grand jury today,” Gina as Cleopatra says. Her long fingers twirl a classic martini glass.

“And I thought grand jury proceedings were secret.” I check my surroundings, make sure our conversation doesn’t become public information as well.

“A friend of a friend w
as in the room,” Gina says. “The friend said Dahler-Chapman went ballistic.”

“Promised to put me away for twenty years. She’s really pissed.”

Gina sips her drink. “I think I might know why.”

The bartender’s gaze asks me what I want. I order a double Wild Turkey on the rocks, wondering where Gina’s going with this one. Not much of a secret why Franny’s feeling foul.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” I say. “Besides the fact I stiffed her on my testimony, maybe ruined her case, why is Dahler all over my ass?”

“Because she and
Ann Marie were good friends. I saw them together once.”

“What? When
? Where?” My heart rate rises.

“It was eight or nine years ago,” Gina says. “I saw them at a private party in northern New Jersey. Tony went out one night to play poker. I was jealous, so when it got late I drove to his friend’s, found Tony and his pals frolicking with four half-naked prostitutes. Two of them were
Ann Marie and Franny Dahler.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I didn’t put it together until this afternoon when I saw the picture of Dahler in the newspaper. It reminded me of Ann Marie, the two of them that night. That’s when I left the message on your telephone.”

“You’re sure about this?” I say. “Talbot and
Dahler were prostitutes?”

“I can’t swear they were pros. But I’m positive they were two of the four girls acting like it that night. They loved it when I plastered Tony with his friend’s five
thousand dollar Tiffany lamp. Tony needed eighteen stitches.”

How did two mob party girls find their way into such unlikely government and semi-government employ? One an investigator with the American
Association of Securities Dealers, the other a Captain with the New Jersey State Troopers? This would sure explain how Franny knew about Talbot’s tooth-removal trick.

Or is Gina delivering a ton of horseshit here?

If so, why?

“Let’s pretend you’re right,” I say. “How does
Ann Marie’s past play into her murder? Is it connected to Ms. Strawberry being so hot to put Bluefish away?”

Gi
na raises an eyebrow. “Ms. Strawberry?”

Oops. I give her the
sheepish full-boat Carr grin. “I was locked up with her for two days. I got tired of calling her captain.”

“Sounds like you
got to know each other pretty well.” Gina smiles like she knows what happened in my bedroom Sunday afternoon.

My bourbon arrives. I taste it. Still the same.
Like the Kentucky woods—dark and sunny at the same time. “Well, it was close. But I didn’t play my cards right.”

Gina laughs,
then leans across the space between us. Her lips wet my cheek, cool against my skin. “You’re cute.”

Sexy would be my first choice. Cute
isn’t bad, though, and at least a positive selection. I’ve certainly been labeled worse.

Gina finishes her martini. “I heard something else, too. The story Mama Bones told you was
probably right. The initial Branchtown Police investigation
did
find a DVD and recording equipment in the next hotel room. The equipment was connected to a tiny hidden camera in Talbot’s room. Supposedly, the DVD showed the actual murder.”

“How could that be?” I say. “I mean, wouldn’t they have arrested the murderer by now?”

“The cops claim to have lost the DVD before anyone saw it but Detective Jim Mallory,” Gina says. “Then Mallory claims it was stolen. So Mallory was suspended and will likely be indicted. The Seaside County prosecutor thinks he destroyed the DVD to protect the murderer.”


So Mallory’s been under suspicion for days, weeks. Where did you hear
this
?”

“From the same person who
was inside the Grand Jury room. That friend of a friend.”

I’m not sure I believe
her. Something about those dark eyes. “Pretty impressive information, Gina. Think your friend knows what she’s talking about?”


Who said it was a
she
? Shall we order dinner? I’m starving.”

 

 

I make my move after dessert, suggesting a nightcap at my apartment.
I know, I’m a rotten bastard. Tony’s barely cold. Luckily for my moral well-being, Gina’s not buying my act, and frankly I’m a little surprised. I maintained the full-boat Carr grin for over an hour. Honestly, I never figured she’d meet just to tell me about Ann Marie and Franny being party girls.

“I like you, Austin. I do. A
nd God knows my marriage was in bad shape when Tony died. But it’s way too soon. Try me again next year.”

Right. In six months Gina will be married again and pregnant with twins.

I should have cut the grinning and kissed her.

 

 

BOOK: Big Money (Austin Carr Mystery)
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