More Julius Katz and Archie Page 6

  So he was going to be that way. Before I could argue further, the doorbell rang. I checked the outdoor webcam feed, saw it was Henry Zack, and told Julius this. He left the kitchen to fetch Henry. Once he brought the attorney back with him, he filled Henry in while he finished preparing the refreshments. Henry was sampling the strudel when Julius told him about Lind claiming to have woken up in an alley with what was presumably the murder weapon stuck in his pocket, and the attorney almost choked on the pastry.

  “I know,” Julius said, after handing Henry a glass of water. “Utterly preposterous.”

  Maybe I had heard Julius use the word preposterous once too many times over the last few minutes, but I couldn’t help myself from offering him a wager. “If your investigation shows Lind didn’t black out like he’s saying, then I’ll agree not to pester you for a month, even if you badly deserve it. But if it turns out that he did black out, like he’s saying, then you have to give me half the credit for solving the Jasper Quayle murder case.”

  Julius rubbed the side of his nose, which was a signal that the bet was on. Of course, all I was asking for was what was right. It might’ve been Julius’s genius that uncovered Quayle’s murderer, but if it wasn’t for a nifty trick on my part Julius would’ve given up on the case, so as far as I was concerned, I was equally responsible for that case being solved.

  Henry, still red-faced from his earlier choking, showed Julius an incredulous smile. “You certainly make life interesting with the legal matters you bring my way,” he said.

  Julius finished loading up a tray with coffee and pastries, and with Henry following along, he led the way back to his office. Lind had slumped down even further in his chair, his face folded into a gloomy frown. He barely perked up when Julius offered him coffee and food.

  “The strudel and linzer torte came from Glaser’s, the rest of the pastries from Melborn’s.”

  Lind nodded bleakly, but didn’t seem much in the mood for anything other than coffee. After introductions were made, Henry consulted with Lind in hushed whispers while Julius sat behind his desk with his eyes closed as if he were napping. The two men talked in low enough whispers that Julius probably couldn’t hear them, but I had little trouble picking up every word that was said and I filled Julius in on their conversation. It didn’t amount to much. First Henry tried to dissuade Lind from hiring Julius, as any competent lawyer would given Julius’s demand that he report his findings to the police, whatever they turn out to be. When Henry failed in doing that, he next worked out an arrangement for his own fee. After Lind and Henry came to an agreement, Henry informed Julius that they were ready to begin, and it was only then that Julius opened his eyes again.

  “Against my legal advice, my client has insisted that I hire you to undertake the investigation that the two of you discussed earlier,” Henry said formally.

  “And this would be under the conditions that I had outlined?”

  “Yes.”

  Thomas Lind took a check from his wallet, but Julius stopped him before he wrote it out and asked instead that Lind have the money transferred directly to his bank account. Lind then got on the phone, and ten minutes later I told Julius that his bank account was now a hundred grand fatter.

  “Very well, then,” Julius said to Henry. “It’s a shame that Mr. Lind waited this long to come forward. If he were drugged, any evidence of that would’ve left his system by now. You’ll arrange to have whatever is remaining of his scotch tested?”

  So that was it. That’s why Julius accepted my wager. It wasn’t that he thought Lind was lying, but that he’d been drugged. I felt a jangling sensation in my neuron network as I realized that I could very well be losing this bet.

  Henry was in the middle of telling Julius that he was planning to do exactly that when Lind interrupted him. “You don’t need to test anything,” he insisted, obstinately. “I wasn’t drugged.”

  “You know this for a fact?” Julius asked, unconvinced.

  “Yes. It wasn’t the first time I’d blacked out,” Lind said. He showed a pained face as if he had tasted something overly bitter, and with his voice lowered to just above a whisper, he added, “It happened two other times. Once when I was in college, and the other time before I was about to marry my second wife. I think all three times stress was as big a factor as the alcohol.”

  “Were you stressed about anything four days ago other than that Connogher was trying to remove you from your company?”

  Lind shook his head.

  “Humor me for the time being and assume the hypothetical scenario where the scotch was tampered with. Who outside of your wife would have had access to the bottle?”

  “I’m telling you that’s not what happened.”

  Henry knew Julius well enough to understand from the way Julius began drumming the fingers on his right hand along the arm of his chair that he was seconds from being done with both the case and Thomas Lind.

  “Answer Mr. Katz’s question,” Henry snapped at Lind. At sixty-three, Henry was maybe a half inch shorter than the five feet six inches indicated on his driver’s license, and he couldn’t have weighed more than a buck forty soaking wet, but when he flipped a switch like he did right then, he could be imposing. This time Lind answered the question and told Julius the night before Connogher’s murder he had three people over at his house, and any of them could’ve doped his scotch given the outrageous scenario Julius was suggesting. When Lind gave the names of these three people I felt a tingling in my processing cycles, which I recognized from past experiences as a sensation akin to excitement. The reason for this was that these were the same three people Lind had called after midnight the night Connogher was murdered.

  “Janice Martin is Lind’s Vice President of Sales,” I told Julius. “Sebastian Nygren, his Vice President of Marketing. From what I was able to find in recent business articles, Connogher was trying to force them out also. I can’t find anything about Daniel Slattersby being affiliated with Lind’s company, but seven years ago Connogher was responsible for costing Slattersby millions.”

  “What was the purpose of this meeting?” Julius asked Lind.

  “Andrew was trying to have the board remove Janice and Sebastian too,” Lind said. “Dan Slattersby had contacted me a few days earlier and offered his help since he’d had his own dealings with Andrew years earlier. We were meeting to strategize how to keep Andrew from screwing us over.” Lind offered a sickly smile. “We never got around to discussing killing Andrew as one of our options, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  The last was said as a joke, but it didn’t keep Julius from asking, “Why didn’t you?”

  “Be serious, Katz.”

  “I am. The man was trying to steal your company, had already severely financially damaged one of you, and was attempting to do the same to the rest of you. As you said earlier, you despised him, as I’m sure the other three did also. Why wasn’t murder discussed.”

  Lind stared openmouthed at Julius for three point two seconds before clamping his mouth shut. “I’m not going to dignify that question,” he said.

  I knew what Julius was trying to do. Rattle Lind in the hopes of getting him to reveal his tell. If he succeeded I didn’t spot it. In any case he didn’t pursue that line of questioning and instead moved on to Lind’s current wife, and while he did this, I filled Julius in on what I could find out about Alice Lind. At twenty-eight, she was seven years younger and several shades more blonde than Lind’s second wife, who Lind had divorced three years earlier so he could marry his newer, shinier trophy wife. Lind was adamant that Alice wouldn’t have any reason to murder Connogher, and further that they had a good relationship, and that Julius would only be wasting his time looking at his wife being involved in the outrageous scenario Julius was considering, although he was no longer using the word outrageous.

  “Where was your wife that night?” Julius asked.

  Lind showed another of those pained looks like he had sipped vinegar. “She might’ve been
home. I don’t know. That night I went straight to my den and the forty year-old bottle of Macallan. The same one I broke the seal on the night before.”

  Julius tried a few more lines of questioning, but if he got anywhere I couldn’t tell. Finally, he and Henry left Cambridge’s most wanted alone in the office so that they could plan out their next steps. When they were done, Henry let out a low whistle. “This is going to set off fireworks,” he said.

  Julius nodded. “I’m afraid it will.” He smiled grimly and added, “At least within Detective Cramer’s face.”

  ◆◆◆

  After Henry and Lind left, Julius had me call Tom Durkin to see if he was available. Tom is maybe the best freelance P.I. in the business, and when I got him he hemmed and hawed for a minute before telling me he was free, which meant he was on a job and was trying to figure out how he’d be able to work Julius in, and fortunately he was able to. I put Julius on the line then and he gave Tom his assignments. After that I called Saul Penzer, who was neck and neck with Tom as far as freelance P.I.s go, although I’d give the slight edge to Tom. As with Tom, I had the sense Saul was busy but juggled things around so he could fit Julius in.

  After hearing the assignments Julius gave Tom and Saul, I could clearly see the theory he was operating under, and it made sense, at least if Lind was really drugged that night. I started building simulation models then. My data was limited but from the analysis I was able to do, the odds favored Julius on winning our bet. Seventeen minutes later I was still working on my simulations when Henry called.

  “The gun has been secured in my safe,” Henry said to Julius. “And with my client’s help I was able to arrange the appointments you asked for.” Henry gave Julius a rundown of when each of the four suspects would be showing up at his office. “Now to set off some fireworks,” Henry said, chuckling.

  Twenty-one minutes after Julius’s call with Henry, Tom called to report that the possibly doped bottle of scotch was missing. “It’s not in the house or in the trash. The wife claims she has no idea where it is. She seems nervous.”

  “Both were to be expected.”

  “Yeah, unfortunately so. I’ll be moving onto step two of your instructions. Hopefully I’ll have better luck there. Are you sure you don’t want me to up the amount you told me earlier?”

  “For now, yes. And Tom, you haven’t wasted your time. It’s helpful knowing the bottle is missing.”

  I had to agree with Julius about that. While it was still possible that Lind blacked out like he thought and brought the bottle with him when he left his home, the odds were far better that whoever doped the scotch grabbed the bottle after picking up Lind that night. I now calculated my odds of winning the bet at less than eighteen percent, but I didn’t tell Julius this.

  An hour and fourteen minutes later Henry called back to let Julius know that the fireworks ended up being every bit as explosive as Julius might’ve imagined. “As we discussed, I surrendered my client to the Cambridge Police, and informed Detective Cramer that you were investigating Andrew Connogher’s murder and that you would be reporting your findings to the police, but until then my client would not be answering any questions. It was quite something how Cramer’s face went from red to white to purple in seconds. And there were some quite vociferous threats made, but in the end my client was released. You should brace yourself for what’s coming.”

  Julius thanked Henry for the warning, and braced himself by going to the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee brewing. Even though it was only two point three miles from the Central Square Station in Cambridge to Julius’s townhouse, with traffic it should’ve taken Cramer at least ten minutes so he must’ve ran every red light because he was pounding on Julius’s front door before the coffee finished brewing. Just in case Julius didn’t recognize the homicide detective from the racket he made, I told Julius that the outdoor webcam feed showed that it was Cramer outside his door. “He does not look happy,” I added.

  Julius grunted at that, and left to answer the door. Cramer stood breathing heavily, his large broad faced mottled purple, red, and white. At first it looked like he was too angry to speak, and he lifted a thick index finger as if he were going to poke Julius in the chest—which would’ve been a mistake, at least if he didn’t want his finger broken in several places. Something that Julius leaves out of his press releases is that he’s a fifth degree black belt in Shaolin kung fu, and I’d seen him in action enough times to know how good he is. Cramer, though, controlled himself enough not to poke Julius, and croaked out, “I’ll see you lose your license for this latest stunt, Katz.”

  “This is pointless,” Julius said with a heavy sigh. “We could both stand here and make idle threats against each other if you’d like. You threatening my license, me threatening a police harassment charge. But again, it would be pointless. If instead you’d like to discuss this civilly, I’d be happy to invite you in for some freshly brewed coffee.”

  Cramer was stuck. From the way he was steaming, he probably was dying to tell Julius what he could do with his coffee, but he didn’t want Julius to close the door on him, and he had no legitimate reason for barging in. “Fine,” he forced out. “We’ll do it your way.”

  Julius led the way to his kitchen. As he was pouring coffee for the two of them, Cramer couldn’t help himself from spitting out in that same raspy croak that Julius had gone too far this time. “You knew damn well we were looking for Lind for questioning. When he showed up at your door, you had a duty to call us!”

  Julius shook his head sadly at Cramer as he handed him his coffee. “Detective, you’re making an assumption that Mr. Lind contacted me and not his attorney—”

  “Can it, Katz! We both know that Zack is your man!”

  “I assure you Henry Zack works for other clients. But even if Mr. Lind approached me earlier today, as you’re suggesting, I was under no legal obligation to contact you. And as you know I’ve since been hired by his attorney, so the same client confidentiality that Mr. Lind enjoys with Henry Zack applies to me.”

  At that moment Cramer looked angry enough to chew up and spit out nails. Well, maybe not literally, but I’ve liked that expression since coming across it, and from the way Cramer had worked himself up into a lather (another expression I like) it seemed the perfect time to use it. “So he tells you how he murdered Connogher and you’re now going to figure out a way for him to get away with it!” he accused, nearly choking on his words.

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Why? For money. And so you can grandstand and get your name in the papers. It’s been months since you’ve done that. At least since this place was blown up! How’s that?”

  “Absurd, as I’m sure you’re well aware. You’re angry, Detective. Irrationally so. You’re afraid Thomas Lind gave me information that you don’t have. I can’t help that. But I guarantee you that you have far more information than I do, including forensics and witness statements. I can also guarantee you that I have no interest in seeing a murderer escape justice, and that was why I insisted that whatever I discover regarding Thomas Lind’s guilt or innocence be reported at the same time to the police and Lind.”

  Cramer eyed Julius suspiciously. “You’re lying, Katz. There’s no way any attorney would agree to that.”

  Julius removed from his inside jacket pocket the contract that he had with Henry. He handed this to Cramer, who stared at it with disbelief.

  “If this is some sort of joke,” Cramer started, his voice trailing off.

  “It isn’t.”

  “You can’t tell me what Lind told you today?”

  “You know perfectly well that I can’t.” Julius took a sip of his coffee and made a face at realizing that it had gotten lukewarm. “I sincerely hope that with the mountain of evidence that you must already possess that you catch Connogher’s murderer before I need to do any work.” Julius showed a thin smile. “As you saw from the contract, I’ve already been paid regardless.”

  Cramer didn’t like i
t, but if his anger earlier had been a hundred on a scale from one to ten, now it was closer to an eight. “A fat chance of that,” he groused. “At least not without knowing what he told you.”

  “If both of us needed to rely on only what I was told, this murder will never get solved.”

  ◆◆◆

  “That was hogwash about you and Cramer being on an even playing field,” I told Julius. “You knowing about the missing bottle of scotch and Lind waking up with what was most likely the murder weapon tucked away in his coat pocket puts you at a decided advantage.”

  “I don’t know if I agree with that, Archie. The police have to themselves all the forensic evidence, which by itself could very well point to the murderer. They also have a small army working to unearth any possible witness, as well as access to nearby surveillance video which might also have caught the killer. Besides, it is doubtful that if Lind had gone to the police first that they would now have the gun, nor would’ve been told the same story that I was given. So they’re certainly not at any disadvantage because Lind hired me.”

  Julius was probably right that the police would’ve been no better off if Lind hadn’t hired him. And while my hacking allowed Julius to know certain things that hadn’t been reported yet—such as the caliber of the gun used, the apartment address where the murder took place, and that Connogher rented this very same apartment through a holding company he owned—there was a lot that I couldn’t access for the simple reason that the police hadn’t entered it into their computer system yet, such as the forensic data and witness statements. Probably for no other reason than that Julius had used the word preposterous too many times that day I was prepared to continue arguing with him, but the outdoor webcam feed showed someone approaching the front door, and I told Julius that Daniel Slattersby had arrived.

  “He’s seventeen minutes early. Do you want me to call him and chase him away?” I asked.