A Grand Murder Read online

God, it was like watching a horror film. My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to shout, “Don’t go in there!” I wanted to run down two flights and stop him from going inside.

  It wouldn’t do any good. Forster was already dead, cold on a slab in the morgue by this time. There wasn’t anything I could do to save him.

  Forster turned the knob and cracked the door. I heard Tracy and Mel take a deep breath and hold it, as if they were watching the same horror film, and wanted to scream out a warning with me.

  He peeked through the crack in the door. Then he threw the door open wide, shouting and pointing at whoever was inside. As Forster stepped through the door to his death, the screen went blank.

  Silence deafened the room.

  “He wasn’t afraid to go in,” I said. “Forster knew his killer.”

  An instant later, the image of the open door returned with the dark—clad wraith fleeing the room. Mel paused the image.

  None of us moved. We stared at the still image.

  Whoever was under the dark hat and coat, had killed in a violent rage. But they still had enough presence of mind to keep their head down and away from the camera.

  Louise slid off the edge of the control desk and leaned into the screen. She tilted her head, examined the image, and ran her finger over the screen.

  “Where’s the next camera going in this direction?” she asked.

  “The main employee area,” Mel said.

  “Cue it up and get comfortable. It could be a long night.”

  Louise was like a dog with a bone. She didn’t like to give up easily. She would check every inch of tape to find the one frame where the killer raised their head for one second. Just enough time to be caught in the camera’s eye.

  Chapter Ten

  “Nothing. We’ve checked every camera and there’s nothing there. They just vanished.”

  Louise laced her fingers behind her neck and rolled her head from side to side. After hours of watching tapes, her neck must be as stiff as mine.

  “The killer knew where every single camera was and how to avoid being seen by them,” she said. “You’d have to have been in this building more than once to have cataloged every one of those cameras and how to get around them.”

  “That narrows it down to the entire building,” Tracy said and then yawned.

  Mel swiveled around in her chair and snapped her fingers in the air. The loud crack made the rest of us jump in our seats.

  “What about the security cards?” She asked with a hint of excitement.

  “What?” I arched my back, trying to shake off the stiffness of being hunched in front of the display screens for three hours.

  “What security cards?” Louise asked.

  Tracy reached into her pocket and pulled out a white piece of plastic. She handed the card to me. It was about the size of a credit card, but a little thicker. On one side was the imprint of Stanley and Forster’s logo and the other side had the name of the security company.

  “These security cards,” Mel said. “It’s how we get into the building after hours. Each person has their own card, with their own unique number. Just like a grocery store bar code. It’s how the company tracks who’s on time and who’s slacking off a bit.”

  “Do they really?” Tracy asked.

  “Oh, yeah.” Mel nodded.

  “So how does that help us, if the person was already in the building, they wouldn’t need the key, would they?” I asked. “If they work here it’s really not going to help that much. We’d still be narrowed down to the entire building.”

  “Because,” Mel said. “After 6 p.m. you also need the card to get out of the building.”

  “Oh, please tell me your super computer here records the names,” Louise said.

  “You bet it does, chickadee.”

  Louise physically flinched at the endearment. To her credit she smiled and nodded.

  “I provide a report of the early birds and the slackers to personnel every week.” Mel grinned and winked at Louise. “Otherwise how would Stanley and Forster know who was worthy of a promotion, sweetie.”

  Mel has a crush on Louise, too. Now she had men and women panting after her. Life is so unfair sometimes.

  Louise’s natural cool momentarily faltered. She hopped up, and moved toward the door, and away from Mel. She’d been able to ignore the first term of affection, but the second one really threw her, toes over teeth, as my grandmother used to say.

  “Uh, could we get a print—out of who used their cards between seven—thirty and nine?” Louise asked. “That will help narrow down the field.”

  “Sure, hon,” Mel said. “I’ll have it for you in a minute. If you want to give me your email address I can send it to you.”

  Louise shook her head. “A print out would be better.”

  I wanted to laugh.

  Mel punched a few keys and the laser printer on the corner of the desk hummed to life. Page after page spilled out in rapid succession. When the printer finally stopped spitting out paper, there were eight pages of employee names, three columns in ten—point font.

  “Wow, there were a lot of employees working late last night.” I fanned myself with the pages. “You have a lot of dedicated workers here, at Stanley and Forster. It must be a nice place to work.”

  Tracy grimaced and shook her head.

  “Not really, Detective,” she said. “Yesterday the entire company was on damage control duty because of Mr. Stanley’s death. We were encouraged to work a few extra hours to try and quell the exodus of nervous clients. For what good any of our efforts did. Pretending that everything was going as smooth as normal was sort of like putting a tourniquet on a dead man.”

  An interesting choice of words.

  She pointed to the list in my hands.

  “That list probably has the names of over half the company. I, myself, was here until probably around 10 or so, cleaning up a few things.”

  “And no one, except Mr. Forster, saw the killer?” I said.

  “They probably saw the killer,” Louise said. “They just didn’t know they saw a killer. What they saw was a co—worker. A friend. Maybe even someone they’d had lunch with several times, or a weekend picnic. Remember the executive hallway is very secluded.”

  “What about the secretary? The bitchy old one, with the sour puss.” I pinched my lips together. “Where was she last night?”

  I don’t know why but a part of me was convinced that the dour old secretary had a murderous streak running through her. I’m sure it had more than a little to do with my personal prejudice toward her.

  Mel clucked her tongue at me. “You don’t expect Miz Thang to stay past five do you? She’s been with the company since Stanley was still sucking on his mama’s tit and the company was just in Forster’s name.

  She has more dirt on the execs of this company than their wives do. She’s booked all the travel for the executives and their girlfriends, and she’s been able to keep her mouth shut about it. She comes in late and leaves early every day and no one can say a word.”

  Tracy gave a knowing chuckle, and then nodded her agreement with a grin.

  “There wasn’t anyone else down that hallway who might have seen anything?”

  Irritation rubbed on every nerve in my body. This was the proverbial needle in the haystack. Two men had been murdered, one on his front door steps, and one in a crowded building, and we were coming up blank. No one knew or saw a thing.

  “There isn’t anyone else down that hallway,” Tracy said. “Only Mr. Forster and Mr. Stanley. All the other executives reside in offices one floor up.”

  Tracy nodded. “Forster used to have an office on the executive floor too, but when Stanley came on board, they renovated the area they’re in now and created their new office away from the other executives.”

  Another elitist move on the part of Stanley and Forster, or more likely on Stanley’s part.

  “That’s it.” Mel snapped her fingers. “That’s why we didn’t see the kill
er leave the hallway.”

  “Why?” Louise asked.

  “The private stairway, from that hallway, to the executive offices one floor up. The door is hidden in a wall panel.” Excitement bubbled in Mel’s voice. “That is why we didn’t see the killer leave. We were looking in the wrong direction.”

  “Are there cameras in the private stairwell?” Louise asked.

  “Fraid not. It didn’t seem necessary. You’d never find it unless you knew where to look. Most of the employees don’t even know there’s another staircase between the two floors, so we consider that area secure,” Mel said. “That and I think a lot of deals are done in that stairwell that no one wants on the record. You understand what I’m saying?”

  That meant the killer was close to the inner circle, far enough inside, at least, to know about a hidden stairwell. That would help narrow the list Mel had given us down quite a bit.

  Louise raised her eyebrows and grinned at me. We were chipping away at the stone of silence. No matter how good you think you’ve planned a murder, it only takes one thread to unravel everything.

  “Well, no point getting dusty, sitting here on the shelf,” I said. “It’s time to check out this secret hallway.”

  In the paneled hallway outside of Stanley’s office, I searched the wall for the hidden door. I didn’t believe that any construction company could hide something like a door completely. Gavin had created “hidden” doors for his clients, but there were tricks to the disappearance. Just like a magician—it was all done with smoke and mirrors.

  Since I had an inside track on construction, I figured I could find this one’s hiding place. Okay, I don’t really know all that much about construction but I feel being married to a carpenter gives me a sixth sense by default. Call it marital osmosis.

  A raised panel frame around one section of wall looked like the most likely place, so I tugged on it. It didn’t budge.

  Must be a heavy door.

  I tugged again, this time with every scrap of strength I had in me. Nothing happened.

  Behind me I heard a familiar chuckle. I swiveled around. Louise quickly stifled herself behind her hand.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Sorry Catherine, it’s just sometimes you make me want to laugh. You think you’re so smart when it comes to mechanical things, and most of the time, you know what you’re talking about.”

  Most of the time?

  “It’s refreshing to see you defeated by a wall panel.”

  Tracy, Mel, and Louise stood in a line and grinned at me. Warmth rushed up my neck and flooded my face.

  “Well then, show me. Where is the damned door?”

  With my jaw set, I stood back. In my mind, I knew I probably looked like a pouting child.

  Mel held up her index finger, approached the panel to my right, reached up, and pushed a piece of decorative molding. The molding recessed into the wall and the polished panel slid into the part of the wall I’d tried to rip apart a few seconds earlier.

  A hidden release mechanism—way too cool and bizarre. Why not just create a normal door with a security code? Stanley and Forster was full of secrets. What else was hiding behind the pristine walls?

  Mel stepped inside. “You might want to hustle your buns in here. The door only stays open for a short time, and it doesn’t have a safety. The hydraulics will pinch your tail off.”

  Tracy and Louise rushed past me into the stairway. I stepped through and the door slid shut brushing my ass in the process. Mel wasn’t kidding.

  I examined the metal door. At least from this side it was clear to see this section was a door. The release on this side was a glowing red button so you could easily find it in the dim stairwell.

  “Cool,” I ran my hand around the perimeter. “Where are the hydraulics?”

  “Hidden in the wall,” Mel said.

  I pushed the button and the door recessed again.

  “Just like Star Trek,” I said and smiled at Louise. “Swish. Swish.”

  I mimicked the motion of the door with my hands.

  She shook her head. “You and Star Trek.”

  “Right, and you and Highlander.”

  The amused look on her face disappeared. Finally, something I could torment her with until the day she died. For years she’d looked down her nose at me for my Star Trek fandom.

  I should have known she had a hidden secret like this. Only a fellow sci—fi fan would know exactly where and how to hit another sci—fi fan. Her Star Trek volleys had been right on target.

  Now that I had this golden nugget of information on her, she would pay for all the eye rolls and off—handed remarks.

  “You want to get on with this investigation or what?”

  Irritation bristled over her. She knew she wouldn’t soon live down Highlander.

  “By all means.” I did my best game show hostess sweep toward the stairs. “After you.”

  The stairway was as nondescript as the other. Maybe the executives weren’t treated better than the employees. The only difference was on each landing we passed, there were two chairs, a table between, with an ashtray stuffed with butts perched on top.

  “So much for a non—smoking building.” Louise said when we reached the second landing.

  “Can’t have the executives standing outside with us commoners.” Bitterness filled Tracy’s voice unchecked.

  Part of me wanted to know if she hated the double standard so much, why didn’t she quit? After my last rebuff from Tracy, I decided to keep my wondering to myself.

  “This is why there are no cameras in here,” Mel said. “I know there are secret deals made in this hallway. Deals that don’t make the front page of the papers, you know what I’m saying.”

  Tracy bobbed her head in agreement. “The company gives to environmental causes with one hand and pollutes the environment with the other.”

  She frowned and focused on the floor. “Someone else is paid to take the blame and all the bad press. Mr. Stanley bought his way out of any situation he couldn’t charm himself out of.”

  Someone didn’t buy the charm act Stanley had laid on them and they didn’t need his money. False charm will only get you so far before people begin to see through to who you really are inside.

  On a floor somewhere above us, another door whooshed open. The sharp staccato sound of high heels descending sent my adrenaline into overdrive. The four of us glanced at each other with the same “what do we do” look on our faces, but none of us moved.

  Our hands were firmly in the cookie jar but I wasn’t sure why we felt guilty. We had every right to be there. Since the executive area was a sealed crime scene, the person heading toward us had no right to be there. The justification didn’t make me feel less guilty.

  The light footsteps sounded like they were skipping down the stairs. A consistent rhythm of one, two, three, pause, one, two, three, pause.

  When the footfalls reached the landing above us, I motioned everyone down the steps, and flat against the railing, so whoever came down the steps wouldn’t see us right away.

  From my place on the top step, I saw the white high heels first and then the bottom of her slightly darker white pants just before she rounded the corner. Nathan Stanley’s ex—wife, clad in white from head to toe, gasped and stumbled backward.

  Belinda panted with her hand over her heart for several moments, then recovered her senses.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “That’s exactly what I was going to say to you.” Louise stepped forward.

  “What do you mean?”

  Her eyes darted around like a trapped animal trying to find an easy escape route.

  I stepped between her and the stairs leading up, in case she decided to run. Mel took my lead and used her bulk to block the stair leading down. There was no escape.

  This is too good to be true.

  My heart sank—too easy usually meant our dog was on the wrong scent. Sometimes being pessimistic really sucked.


  Louise took a step toward her. “I mean what are you doing here, Mrs. Stanley?”

  “I—I’m here to visit a friend.” She pushed her pointy chin in the air and fixed a defiant stare on Louise. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I still have a right to live my life, don’t I? Even if I am a suspect in my ex—husband’s murder.”

  “Yes you do,” Louise said and stepped forward again.

  Belinda stepped back. The back of her heel hit the edge of the little metal table. She lost her balance, stumbled, and fell into one of the chairs on the landing.

  “You have to admit. It does look a bit odd to find you here.”

  “Eww, do you know how filthy this fucking chair is?”

  She wiped her hands on the front of her white pants. I didn’t see any dirt, but Belinda’s eyes went wide.

  “Oh, God, it’s so disgusting!”

  “You have bigger problems than a little grime on your clothing,” Louise said. “Let me see if I can put the pieces together here. You have no alibi, or won’t share the name of your alibi, for the night of your ex—husband’s death.”

  “So.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and cleaned unseen filth from between her fingers. “I told you, he’s married. I won’t tell you his name. Despite what you think of me, I’m no home wrecker.”

  “Then Mr. Forster is found murdered, and who do we find in a secret stairwell that leads to the murder scene? You.”

  “And?” She dropped the tissue into the overloaded ashtray.

  Louise looked at me and smiled. I nodded. We had her.

  “You don’t seem surprised to hear about Mr. Forster’s death.”

  Belinda looked from Louise to me, then back to Louise. Sudden understanding dawned on her face.

  “I heard about it when I got here.”

  “From who?” I asked.

  “My friend.”

  “Another friend with no name?” Louise said. “How convenient for you.”

  “I’m not seeing your point here, Detective Montgomery.”

  “The point is, Mrs. Stanley,” I said. “That makes you our best suspect.”

  “What?” She jumped from the chair. “You have to be joking. I don’t find your sense of humor the least bit amusing. I’m leaving.”