The Double Wedding Ring (23 page)

T
his time I drove to New York. I had Jesse's car, and besides that, the romance of a train ride was spoiled, at least temporarily, by the memory of having spent my last ride sitting with Roger's killer. I made it to Queens in far less time than the normal three hours. I must have sped the whole way without even noticing.

I pulled up in front of Roger and Anna's old house just as mourners were arriving for the post-funeral luncheon. I hadn't bothered to change before heading south, so dark jeans and a navy sweater were going to have to do.

I entered the house, a nice but ordinary brick bungalow, and looked for Jesse. Ken was there, seemingly annoyed, so I followed his sight line. Sure enough, Anna was hovering near Jesse as he chatted with some of Roger's friends.

“Hey, there,” I said, tapping Jesse's arm.

He spun around, surprised. “Nell, how's Oliver?”

“Good, thankfully.” I looked around. There were too many people around for me to shout out that I knew the identity of Roger's killer. “I just wanted to be here for you, and since Oliver's okay, I figured I'd come down.”

He kissed my forehead. “I'm glad you're here.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

“Absolutely. Just go straight back. It's the master bedroom. I'm right behind you.”

I walked toward the room, down a long narrow hallway, but I soon realized Jesse wasn't behind me. When I turned, I saw why. Anna had grabbed his arm and burst out crying. Jesse looked helpless as he turned away from me to comfort her. I was about to go back when something stopped me.

“We meet again.” Bob Marshall stood between me and a living room that was filling up with mourners. But there was a long empty hallway between where I was standing and where I could get help.

“Get out of my way.” I didn't wait for him to listen, I tried to go around him.

He stopped me. As he did, he lifted his suit coat slightly to reveal a gun. “I'm a very fast draw.” Then he lifted his hand to my throat. “And I don't have anything to lose.”

He pushed me toward the door to the master bedroom.

For some reason I was more angry than scared. I was tired of this man's games. “I'll scream if you push me again,” I said.

“Wonderful. Your knight in shining armor will come running back and I'll shoot him. Then I'll shoot you.”

I stepped over the threshold into the room. Marshall followed me, then closed the door behind him. We were in Roger and Anna's old bedroom. It was tastefully decorated, like something copied from a magazine, but void of personality or warmth. Much like Anna herself, I thought. There were a few coats on the bed, and purses and gloves scattered around. I tripped on Anna's handbag and almost fell on the bed. I stood against a dresser, trying to steady myself and stay calm.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“The money, Nell. I want the money.”

“We've been over this. I don't know where the money is.”

“I don't believe you. You have been running around looking into this case every minute since Roger died. People will talk to you but won't talk to me. Jesse talks to you. He's told you where it is.”

“There is no money in Jesse's house.”

“But there is something in Jesse's house. Some clue, some indication of where Roger hid it.”

“Why Jesse? He hadn't even spoken to him in three years.”

Marshall shook his head and sighed. “Oh, Nell, I thought you were a better gumshoe than that. Roger gave some of the money, some of my money, to your holier-than-thou boyfriend.”

The door to the bedroom opened. Jesse was standing there. Marshall didn't reach for his gun, didn't run, didn't do anything. He just stood there. Jesse came in and grabbed me, putting himself between Marshall and me.

“Get out of here,” he said to me. “Go.”

“Jesse,” I said. “Marshall came into the police station on the night Roger died. Greg told him where you lived and he went there and killed Roger.”

Marshall laughed. “Now that's an interesting theory. Here's another: maybe Jesse did it so he could keep the money Roger gave him.”

Jesse moved toward Marshall. “I paid back the money he lent me. And as far as I know, he got it exactly where he said he got it: from cashing in some stocks he had.”

“You didn't believe him then.”

“And I don't believe you now,” Jesse said. “Nell, get out of here.” As he spoke, Marshall grabbed his gun. Jesse lunged at him, shouting for backup as he did. In seconds two dozen members of the New York police force were in the room, cuffing the disgraced detective and reading him his rights.

As they led him from the room, Marshall looked at me. “They have me on a parole violation for carrying a weapon. Maybe unlawful imprisonment, though that's a stretch. But they won't get me for murder. Because I didn't kill Roger. I wanted the money. And with Roger dead, I'll never find it.” His voice was calm, but the look in his eyes seemed desperate, scared. I didn't want to, but I believed he was telling the truth.

When the room had emptied out, Jesse sat with me on the bed and put his arm around me. We sat quietly for a long time. “After Lizzie died,” Jesse said finally, “Roger was at the house all the time. He pretty much lived with me for the first few months. He even took time off to help me. He could see the stress I was under, the medical bills, the mortgage on the new house. I felt like I was going under financially, emotionally. Every which way.”

“One day, I sent a check in to the hospital to make a payment on what I owed, and they told me the bill was paid,” Jesse continued. “And a bunch of other bills were paid. Nearly fifteen thousand dollars' worth. Roger told me he'd cashed in some stocks he'd inherited from his dad years before. He knew if he'd given the money directly to me, I wouldn't have taken it. And it wasn't like I could just write him a check for the full amount. When I confronted him about it, he told me he wanted to help. He said he didn't need or want the money back.”

“But you paid him anyway.”

“I've been paying him, or I was. A little bit at a time,” he said. “Around the same time, I was hearing rumors about Marshall, about the money. Roger had backed him up. He told me to my face that there was no money at that dealer's place. And I believed him. Then Marshall went to prison and a few months later, Anna opened this business. They put a ton of money into it. She said Roger just came up with the money from some investment he'd made. Suddenly Roger was magically coming up with money from all kinds of places. It didn't sit right. I felt like he'd made me party to his corruption and it ended our friendship. I couldn't prove he had done anything. I'm not sure I wanted to, but I knew it in my gut and I felt betrayed.”

“I thought Ken invested in Anna's business.”

“That story came later. And maybe he did, but not initially. I asked Roger about it. He wouldn't say. He didn't tell me that he was in on the theft, but I could see it in his eyes.”

“But why? He was supposed to be this great cop.”

“I don't know. . . .” He looked at a photo of Roger and Anna on the dresser, one taken in much happier times. “He told me once that seeing the hell I went through when I lost Lizzie made him certain he could never lose Anna. I think he did it for her.”

“And she left him anyway,” I pointed out. I looked down at Anna's purse on the floor by my foot. I picked it up on a hunch, dumping it on the bed until I found what I was looking for. “I don't think she just left him,” I said. “I think she killed him.”

“T
hat's ridiculous. They just arrested my husband's killer not ten minutes ago.” Anna sat at her kitchen table. Ken stood by her, but he didn't seem all that surprised by my accusation.

It was difficult to explain my theory in front of a room full of police officers and friends of the widow, but once I told Jesse what I believed had happened, he wanted to confront her there and then.

“Marshall wanted the money. He's right. He had no motive to kill Roger until he got it, or at least what's left of it,” I said. “Ken had no motive either. You're using him the way you used Roger. They were only in competition for who was the bigger fool. That leaves you.”

“If I hadn't been so caught up in protecting Roger's reputation, I would have seen it,” Jesse agreed.

I took his hand. “That was the point. That was the reason for the shooting in the street. It was misdirection. Who is the first person you look at when a person is killed? Their spouse. Especially when they're in the middle of a divorce.”

The officers and Anna's friends nodded in agreement.

“So Anna had to misdirect. She shot up Main Street so that we'd be looking for a professional. Someone like a fellow cop. Someone like Bob Marshall. She had Ken here give her the means to set up a flash, a way to send Jesse looking down the street instead of looking up.”

Ken cleared his throat. “For the record, I didn't know that's what I was doing. I thought she was just getting into magic. It was only after I talked to you last night at the wake that I realized why she had been so interested.”

I nodded. I could see by the anger in his eyes, he had been fooled, too. “She also needed to misdirect me,” I said, looking at Jesse as I spoke. “So she whispered in my ear about Lizzie. She kept me off balance so that instead of thinking about who killed Roger, all I could think about was how much you loved Lizzie. How you loved her more than me.”

“That isn't true, Nell,” Jesse said softly.

I squeezed his hand.

Anna rolled her eyes. “That's charming. It still doesn't prove I killed Roger.”

“But this does.” I put her purse on the table, and dumped its contents. A wallet, lipstick, tissues . . . a pack of cigarettes, and two sets of house keys.

“Those are from my house,” Jesse said as he picked up one of the sets of keys. “But you gave me back the set I lent you.”

“She did,” I said. “These are Roger's keys. The ones he'd had ever since staying with you after Lizzie died. She took them from him after she killed him. She needed to get into your house.”

“I didn't go into the house that night.” Anna started to say something else but stopped herself.

“Because my car pulled up,” I pointed out. “You were nervous. You had just shot your husband. He was already dead, wasn't he?”

Anna didn't answer. She just stared at me.

“You saw me get out of the car. Maybe you thought I saw you. You certainly knew I saw the cigarette smoke.”

“That's what you've got on me? Cigarettes and magic tricks? I mean, it's literally smoke and mirrors.” She laughed.

“I have one more thing,” I said. I looked at Ken. “You know that Anna would dump you in a heartbeat for someone with more money, don't you?”

He nodded.

“Where did Anna get the money for her design company?”

He looked at her. “From the money Roger stole. About fifty or sixty thousand dollars. Up in smoke as far as I can tell, and then she came after me. I gave her what I could, but I have problems of my own. So she went back to Roger. That's what it's like with her. Roger said he'd give her more money, but she'd have to stay with him. Anna doesn't like being told what to do.”

“You jerk,” she yelled at Ken, then calmed herself. “I told Roger being married to a cop is nothing but heartbreak.”

I smiled. That's why he said it to Carrie. He wasn't warning me of anything, just reliving his own pain.

“So where's the money?” Jesse asked her.

“Don't ask me,” she spat. “Roger gave me money in drips. Making sure I'd always need him. He even blamed me for stealing it, can you believe it? Said his love for me had made him weak.” She rolled her eyes. “I was sick of it. Sick of him. I tried to find the money, but he found out. Roger was still a good detective, and he was always watching me. Then suddenly, he told me that he couldn't do it anymore; he was going to get the money and give it to me. All of it.”

“So why kill him?” Jesse asked.

“I knew Roger better than anyone, and there was something about the way he said it that made me sure he was lying. So I followed him. I figured he was going to grab the money and head off to Mexico or somewhere. But I found him right in front of Jesse's house. And I found out what he was really going to do. He told me he was going to turn himself in to some old buddy of his in vice, John Toomey. Roger said he'd put the money in a safe place, and he was going to tell the police everything. Try to right the wrong, he said. He told me I might be charged as an accessory after the fact. He said he was sorry about that, but maybe it was better for both of us to get this burden off our chests.” She took a long breath. “I wasn't going to prison because of Roger.”

Jesse blinked back a few tears, then borrowed a pair of handcuffs from one of the officers. “Yes, Anna, you are,” he said.