Read Finding Miranda Page 23


  Chapter 23 – The Detectives

  Mrs. Montgomery-Krausse sat ramrod straight and, although obviously emotional, maintained the family dignity with undiminished fortitude. Hanson and Rebecca stood sentinel behind the sofa where she sat, and the two homicide detectives sat in two occasional chairs placed in front of her. One of the detectives jotted notes in a small leatherette-bound notebook as she spoke.

  “He had told me he was going to expose a bid-fixing operation that had gone on for about a year,” Hermione said. Her nose was red, her eyes swollen, but her voice was strong. “He was going to name the guilty parties both inside and outside the governor’s office, even though it might cost him his reputation. His political enemies would, of course, pounce on any opportunity to make Reginald appear corrupt.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the senior detective said, glancing at the notes the other man was taking. “Did the governor ever tell you any of the names of these so-called ‘guilty parties’ he was going to expose?”

  Hermione paused as if to search her memory. “I know one name, if I can remember it. There was a building contractor who held an ownership interest in several companies. His companies always seemed to know what the competing bids were, and they always came in just under the lowest bid. They always seemed to get the contracts. And they always seemed to bill the State for much more than they had quoted in their bid.”

  “Can you recall the name?” said the detective.

  Hermione looked at the ceiling and seemed to think out loud. “What was it? Westinghouse ... Westwood ... Wechsler ... West ... Lake! Westlake! The man’s name was Something Westlake! Is there a building contractor named Westlake?”

  The detectives looked at one another. The one with the notebook paged back through his notes and referred to a scribbled page. “Bertram Westlake? Is that the name?”

  “That’s it!” Hermione said, and she smiled at the men. “But surely you don’t think that man, that Westlake, could have killed the governor? This is a businessman, not a mobster. Perhaps it was simply a robbery. Reginald often carried large sums of cash, and he wore expensive watches and rings and such.”

  One man closed his notebook; both men stood. “It doesn’t appear to have been a robbery, Mrs. Krausse. And a businessman with power and a motive can be as dangerous as a mobster. We’ll certainly check it out.”

  First one and then the other man offered a parting handshake. Hermione sniffled daintily into a tissue provided by Rebecca. “Thank you for coming,” Hermione said.

  “Thank you for your time, ma’am. We’re very sorry for your loss,” said one detective.

  “And please give Shep our best wishes for a speedy recovery,” said the other. “We’re big fans of Shep and Dave.”

  “Thank you. I’ll tell him,” said Shepard’s mother.

  Rebecca showed the men to the door of the suite. She asked for and received their business cards. After closing the door, Rebecca retrieved an iPad from a briefcase stowed beneath the coffee table. She added the detectives’ contact information to the device.

  All was silence in the suite until the resonating elevator bell indicated that the detectives had left the sixth floor. Then Hanson asked, “Are you all right, madam?”

  Hermione’s face hardened, her tears dried up, and her jaws clinched. “Westlake and Reggie were up to their beady eyeballs in corruption, but I was willing to look the other way until they tried to kill my son. I would happily shoot Reginald Montgomery myself if it were possible.”

  She turned to Rebecca as if she had been reminded of something. “Did you speak with Carlo?” Hermione asked.

  “Yes, madam,” Rebecca answered. She tapped the screen of her iPad and, after viewing the resulting screen, added, “The wire transfer has been posted to the Credit Lyonnais branch in Milan. The flowers will be delivered to Signora Fratelli late tomorrow, after Carlo arrives home.”

  Hermione nodded. “Hanson, has the other matter been attended to?”

  “It is in the trunk of Mr. Westlake’s personal vehicle,” said Hanson.

  “Excellent,” said Hermione. “Rebecca, you have the disposable phone?”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “Drive at least five miles away from the hospital—find a crowded mall parking lot, if you can—and place the call from there. Ten seconds, no more. Follow the script. Then dispose of the phone and return home. Take precautions so that you are not followed.”

  “Yes, madam.” Rebecca snapped her briefcase shut and left the suite.

  After a moment, Hermione turned toward Hanson. “You’re certain those thugs were hired by Westlake?”

  “My source is never wrong in such matters, madam. One of the men had set fire to Miss Ogilvy’s house previously.”

  “There is no doubt both men are dead.”

  “None whatsoever, madam. Mr. Shepard dispatched one and a neighbor, a Mrs. Cleary, the other. The men were known criminals; they were armed. No charges will be filed against your son or his neighbor for protecting themselves.”

  “Excellent. The murder weapon will be traced to Phyllis Ogilvy, of course.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Hermione wrinkled her brow in concern. It was a new concern, and she was uncomfortable expressing it. “I, ah, we do not wish Miss Ogilvy to come under suspicion. She has fired the weapon before. There will be fingerprints.”

  Hanson smiled serenely. It was good to see madam softening toward the young lady whom Hanson had come to admire. “Have no fear, madam,” he said. “First, there will be no fingerprints on the item. Second, Miss Ogilvy reported it stolen the night of the fire at her house. Third, at the time of the governor’s death, Miss Ogilvy was in the Little Cypress Forest running for her life. A dozen police officers and emergency medical technicians can verify that. The young lady is above suspicion.”

  “And, I daresay, above reproach in your estimation,” said Hermione with a knowing look.

  “Indeed, madam,” said Hanson with a nod that was nearly a bow.

  “Perhaps I shall come to agree with you,” Hermione mused, mostly to herself. She stood and gathered her handbag and gloves. “Take me home, please, Hanson. Shepard is in good hands here, and you and I need to rest and await Rebecca’s return. I have a feeling the evening news will be fascinating tonight.”