Death on the Sound (6 page)

I smiled and deleted the message. It was followed
immediately by a real call. It gave a Lake Washington address and a dead body
call – again. I held it up to Tom so he could program the Garmin as we rolled
to the Lake.

    
Lake Washington is a major sized piece of
water next to Seattle. It has on part of its shores extremely expensive
mansions. As it turned out, we ended up at one of those mansions. There were
three cars, an ambulance, and now us. I parked at the end of the line, and Tom
and I checked in with the site control. I spotted a patrol sergeant that I
happened to know.

    
“Hey, Toni, what’ve we got?”

    
“Hi, Abby, we have a Desiree Mason dead of
a gunshot to the heart. She was found in the pool by the maid, when she showed
up this morning. The bullet appears to still be in the body since there’s no
exit wound. That’s all there is, I’ll take you around back. Hey, Tom how’s it
goin’?”

    
“It’s just peachy damn dandy Toni. Abby’s
been keeping too damn busy you got an opening on patrol? I’d like to ride
around in a car all day, and shoot the shit.”

Toni
looked back and grinned at Tom.

    
“Yeah, right, we’d wear you down in a day
Tom. You’d better stay with Abby; she’s taking good care of you.”

Tom
looked over at me and smiled.

    
“That she is Toni that she is.”

We walked around the back of the house to look at a
spectacular view of Lake Washington, and then we shortened our view, and saw
Desiree floating in the pool face down. She was naked, and there was indeed no
exit wound. I surveyed the surroundings, and saw nothing but money. The pool
was gigantic, and the furniture alone could make my monthly houseboat payment
for a year.

    
“Tom, see if you can find anything inside
that we might latch onto, okay?”

    
“Got it kiddo.”

I
walked around the edge of the pool looking for any sign of evidence that might
help us. After a complete circle, there was nothing. I spotted Maya turning the
corner with her tool kit.

    
“Hey, Abby, you’re having a pretty busy
week. Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll see what we can see.”

She
was acting very professional and giving no hint that we’d spent Sunday
afternoon, in bed, giving each other a CSI style inspection of all openings and
crevices. My mind spun back to Sunday as Tom came shuffling out of the house
with a book in his hand.

    
“Hey, I found this.”

It
was a day timer with an appointment for Garson McConnell at eight thirty last
night. She’d had her hair done yesterday afternoon, and a dry cleaning pickup
noted. I thumbed back through the pages for the last month, and saw the phrase
club meeting twice a week for the past month on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Some
were at night, and a few in the afternoon. I followed Tom back into the house,
and we went into the office where Tom found the book, and looked up Garson’s
number. I tracked down the maid who was sitting inside with one of the lady
officers.

She
was a diminutive Asian woman with white well taken care of hair. Her uniform
was pressed and pleated. Her name as I had found out was Mioko Sunhari.

    
“Hi, I’m sorry you had to go through this,
but I need to ask you a couple of questions Ms. Sunhari.”

    
“I’ll try, but I don’t know what happened
here.”

Her
English was very good. In fact, there were a few mush mouths back at the
precinct who could take a lesson from her.

    
“First, I notice that Ms. Mason had
something called “club meeting” twice a week. Do you know what club that was?”

Her
face suddenly turned away, and I could see her neck start get slightly red. She
didn’t respond.

    
“Ms. Sunhari, I need an answer, please. If
you know you need to tell me.”

After
what seemed like a very long pause she finally spoke.

    
“She’s in a swap club.”

My
first thought was sex and knowing Desiree’s age I decided it had to be
something different.

    
“What kind of a swap club? I need more
information please.”

Again,
the embarrassed expression returned to her inscrutable face.

    
“She’s a member of a sex swap club. Most
are married, but some are single, and just have an opposite partner along to
make things come out even.”

I
looked at Tom who had the same “What the hell” look that I’m sure I had on
mine.

    
“How many people are in this club if you
happen to know?” I asked.

    
“I think there are about twenty, but not
everyone comes to every meeting.

    
“Do you know a Garson McConnell, and if so
what is his relation Ms. Martin?”

    
“He’s usually her partner, but lately she’s
been going with Charles Thorne.”

    
“Do you happen to know why she changed?”

    
“I have no idea. She didn’t confide in me
about her club activities, which I’m more than thankful.”

    
“Do you know any other members of this
club?”

    
“I only know of Ms. Danford and Mr. and
Mrs. Jessup.”

I
thanked Ms. Sunhari and Tom and I exited for the pool to get an update from Maya.

Tom
looked up Danford and Jessup and noted their addresses and numbers. I checked
my watch, and it was one fifteen. My stomach was growling, but we couldn’t stop
now.

The crowd had thinned out, and it was just us Indians
to finish up. All the black and whites were back on patrol. I spotted Maya at
the end of the pool. She was leaning over the victim, who they’d just put in
the bag for transport. I came up and had to refrain from putting my hand on her
shoulder. I needed to keep the same demeanor that she’d had when she arrived on
the scene.

    
“Got any info for us Maya?”

    
“Her time of death was between nine and
midnight last night. I won’t have the bullet info until I get her on the table,
but it looks like a twenty two or thirty eight. Shot from inside ten feet.
That’s it Abby. I’ll call when I have the rest.”

    
‘Thanks Maya. Come on Tom let’s head out,
and try to find Mr. McConnell.”

I
looked back over my shoulder at Maya as she did the same to me. We smiled at
each other; alone with our gaze for this one brief moment of our day. Tom
hauled out his cell phone, and called the one number in Desiree’s phone book. I
could tell that no one was answering because Tom left his usual official police
message to call back immediately after getting the message. Tom programmed the
Garmin, and in twenty minutes we were pulling up to a similar estate still
bordering the lake. I walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The
driveway would hold at least twelve cars in front of the three car garage.
There was not one blade of grass out of place, and weeds wouldn’t dare grow in
the colorfully packed flower beds. The door slowly opened, and yet another
oriental maid answered the door. They must have had a sale. I showed my badge.

    
“I’m Abby Masters from the police, and this
is my partner Tom Culhane. Is Mr. McConnell in please?”

    
“Mr. McConnell is not home.”

    
“You have no idea where he is?”

    
“No, he didn’t tell me. He did say he’d be
back before I left for the day.”

Tom
held out his notepad for the maid.

    
“We called this number and no one answered.
Isn’t this the number for this location?”

The
maid adjusted her glasses and peered at the number.

    
“No, that’s his cell number.”

    
“Tell Mr. McConnell, when he gets home to
call us at this number.”

I
handed her my card, and after an exchange of smiles, Tom and I turned to leave.
Tom was already on the phone to the Danford woman. I heard him speaking, so at
least someone was home.

    
“She’s home, and she’s only two miles from
here.”

I
had a hard time keeping my eyes on the street ahead as I drove past the huge
palaces along the lake. I just wonder if they’re any happier than I am with
Felix, in my little houseboat. Tom reached behind the seat, and pulled out a
lunch bag.

    
“You want to split a tuna sandwich on the
way. I’m starving.”

I
happily took the half sandwich, and gulped it down like little miss piggy. I
gave a quick check of teeth, and popped a mint in my mouth as we pulled up in
front of Ms. Danford’s house.

Tom
had spent the past minute on the phone with the precinct, and by the large grin
on his face had some news.

    
“Red Man Tate is in Walla Walla Prison, and
will be for the next twenty. It seems he was ratted out by his boss, and took a
hit for a killing he never did. I wonder if we asked him about that night by
the pool if he’d be willing to trade testimony for some time off his sentence.”

    
“Sounds like it’d be worth a trip to see,
huh?” I commented.

We arrived at the Danford house, and it was smaller
than the lake homes we’d been accustomed to, but not by much. Tom rang the bell,
and succeeded in losing most of the saliva in his mouth when the door was
finally opened. Ms. Danford was an early sixties lady dressed in a silk see
through blouse with no bra and tight slacks. Her immaculately done silver hair
sat atop a very well maintained face.

    
“Can I help you?” she asked smiling directly
at Tom.

Tom
stuttered his reply.

    
“I’m Tom Culhane, and this is my partner
Abby Masters. We’re detectives for the Seattle police. May we come in?”

“I suppose so, what’s this all this about?”

We
were following Ms. Danford. Well, I was following, but Tom was letching. I gave
him a short shot in the ribs as we continued into Ms. Danford’s living room.

    
“Ms. Danford we’re sorry to have to tell
you this, but Desiree Martin was killed last night, and we’re investigating her
murder.”

    
“Oh my god, oh my god.”

Ms.
Danford looked a bit rocky as Tom leapt up, and walked into the kitchen for a
glass of water. Ever the gentleman is my Tom. He returned, and sat next to Ms.
Danford as she sipped her water.

    
“I’m sorry for that, but I wasn’t expecting
to hear that one of my best friends is dead.”

    
“We just have a few questions Ms. Danford,”
I said.

    
“Please, call me Clare.”

Tom
now took the helm with the questioning, which he almost never did. I watched
his expression, and his eyes dart from breasts to face, trying to maintain some
decorum. What a guy?

    
“Clare, we understand that you, Ms. Martin,
and some others are involved in a swap club. Is that correct?”

    
“Yes, our bodies are still behaving, for
the most part, and we all enjoy a bit of fun. As they say, “use it or lose it.”

Clare
grinned at Tom. Luckily his hanging mouth condition was only temporary, and he
closed it almost immediately.

    
“Do you know a Mr. McConnell?”

    
“Yes, he’s in our club, as well. He and
Desiree are usually partners at our umm, meetings.”

    
“You said usually, do they have different
partners?”

    
“Well, the past three meetings Desiree had
Carlton Dumont with her and Garson had come with Amy Jackson instead. I’m not
sure what had transpired, but something had changed.”

    
“Was Garson speaking to Desiree or did he
avoid her?”

    
“Oh they spoke but actually, ahem, there’s
not a lot of talking at our events.”

Tom’s
face turned a bright red as his pen made nervous circles on his notepad.

I
took the ball back from Tom.

    
“Did something happen to make Desiree
change her partner like she did?”

    
“Well, I did notice that Garson was having
trouble umm getting up for our meeting if you get my meaning.”

    
“Were you ever aware that Mr. McConnell
owned a gun or did you ever see him with a gun?”

Clare
gave a pensive stare up to the ceiling as she thought, and wide grin formed on
her lips.