Death by Marriage (10 page)

 Cindy
and Mattheus met up and decided to drop in at Paul’s old office unannounced. It
was in a fairly modern, mid-sized, air conditioned building on the third floor.
On the door it said Robbins and Jeffries, Criminal Defense Attorneys. They
opened the door, walked in and were greeted by the receptionist, as if
everything were normal, and it was just another day.

“Can
I help you?” she smiled prettily.

“Private
Investigations,” Mattheus said.  “We’re investigating the murder of Paul
Robbins and would like to look around.”

The
smile on her face quickly vanished. “I’m sorry,” she said, startled, and stood
up quickly. “Mr. Jeffries is out right now and I don’t have the authority to
let you into his office.”

Mattheus
pulled out his old police identification to show her.

Nervous,
she stepped back.

“We’re
not going to do anything more than look around,” said Mattheus. “Mr. Robbin’s
wife Kendra has hired us to help out.”

The
receptionist’s eyes, confused and helpless, flitted to Cindy.

“It’s
perfectly alright,” Cindy said soothingly. “We’ll be in and out in a little
while.”

That
seemed to calm her down.

“Okay,”
she said suddenly, “but just for a little while. Mr. Jeffries is on edge about
everything since this happened.

“It’s
understandable,” Cindy said.

“He
goes out for coffee breaks all the time, and leaves earlier than he ever did.”

“It
had to be a tremendous shock,” said Cindy.

“Tremendous,”
she said, finally coming out from behind her desk.  “My name is Peggy.”

“Nice
to meet you,” Cindy extended her hand.

Peggy
was young, slim and wore a grey skirt and pale, rose colored blouse that hung
over the edges.

“I’ll
open Mr. Robbins office for you,” she said.

“I’m
sure the police have already been through it,” said Mattheus.

“Just
once,” she answered, “and briefly. That also bothered Mr. Jeffries that the
police didn’t spend more time in the office, seeing what they could find. I
heard Mr. Jeffries telling someone that the police never thought the answers
were here.”

Cindy
and Mattheus followed her down a hallway to a door on the right. She took the
key she’d brought with her and unlocked the door.

Paul’s
office was a large room, overlooking a busy square, where people were walking,
shops were open for business and cars driving here and there. The windows were
shut tight and the air conditioning turned up high.  It was so cold Cindy got a
chill when she walked inside.

“He
loved this office,” Peggy said sadly. “I haven’t been in it since Mr. Jeffries
locked down. He was worried that something would be messed with or stolen.”

A
large wooden desk stood in the middle of the room, with a comfortable leather
chair behind it and two smaller chairs in front. The side of the room had
filing cabinets, a small sofa, and old wooden book cases that were filled from
top to bottom.  Other than that, the walls were covered with large photos of
Kendra and Nell.

Cindy
looked at the photos, touched. “He must have really loved his family,” she
said.

“Very
much,” said Peggy. “Kendra called him all the time. So did his daughter.  No
matter what he was doing, he always stopped and took their calls.”

Cindy
felt sad to hear that.  She could only imagine what a loss it must be for both
of them.

“Mr.
Robbins always said to me, Peggy, remember one thing, family is first.”

Cindy
remembered that Paul had trouble with his original family back home.  That’s
why Kendra and Nell must have meant so much.

“What
else did he tell you?” Mattheus asked, walking around, going to the front of
his desk, opening the drawers, poking around.

“About
what?” Peggy asked confused.

“About
himself, about life?”

“Not
much,” she finally said. “He told me to always be on time to work,” she smiled
a little. “He hated it when people were late. And he said to be polite to
everyone who came in, including the worst looking ones. He told me over and
over that everyone deserves a chance.”

“But
he didn’t get it himself, did he?” said Mattheus.

Cindy
was startled by the edge in Mattheus’ tone.

“In
fact, it could have been one of these criminals that finally did him in?”
Mattheus threw a side glance at Peggy.

Peggy
jumped back. Mattheus seemed to be taking pleasure in purposely jarring her.

“It
could have been anyone,” Peggy said quietly. “I have no idea. I don’t like
thinking about it. I wouldn’t be able to come in to work here, if I did.”

Cindy
wanted to step in between Peggy and Mattheus, but something in his eyes told
her to back away. He was doing this for a reason.

“Was
there someone who came in recently that you felt funny about?” Mattheus said.

Peggy’s
eyes clouded over. “I didn’t pay much attention to the clients,” she said. “I
didn’t feel comfortable with most of them.”

“Mr.
Robbins did though?”

“He
loved them,” she looked Mattheus straight in the eye then. “I used to hear him
talking to them in the waiting room and also on the phone. He made them feel
confident and protected. Seemed he always wanted to get them the best deal.”

This
was hard for Peggy and Cindy could see it.  But just then, the door to Paul’s
office flew open and a tall, thin, agitated man walked in.

“What’s
going on here?”

“It’s
the police,” said Peggy nervously. “They’re investigating the case.”

“Jeffries
here,” he turned towards Mattheus. “Who sent you to our place?”

“Private
Investigations,” said Mattheus. “We’ve been hired by Mrs. Robbins.”

Jeffries
cleared his throat. “I heard about that,” he said. “She’s desperate to clear
her name.”

“We’re
following any leads we can get now,” Mattheus looked him straight in the eye.

“Believe
me, I’ve been over this a million times,” Jeffries said hastily. “Been through
his draws myself, looking for something. There’s nothing there now. They’ve
been emptied out by the police. What did they find? Nothing. No threatening
notes, no love notes, no secrets numbers to a game. Nothing. The guy knew what
he was doing. Nothing telltale left behind.”

“You
worked together for a long time?” asked Mattheus.

“At
least ten years,” said Jeffries, his voice catching. “Come into my office. We’ll
talk.”

“Let’s
talk in here,” said Cindy.  She enjoyed being in Paul’s place, letting the
vibration sink in, scanning his bookshelves, looking at the photos of Kendra
and Nell. A sense of his life came over her here.  The office showed a powerful
man, successful, intelligent, attached to family. There wasn’t yet a kink in
the armor that she could see for herself.

Jeffries
turned to Peggy then. “You can go back to the front desk now,” he said.

Peggy
nodded, turned and left.

“Okay,”
he said to Cindy, “let’s sit down here, and talk.”

The
three of them sat down as Jeffries started tapping his hands together.

“Miss
the guy like hell,” he said. “I still can’t get it through my brain that he’s
gone for good. This never should have happened. I warned him lots of times to
be careful, though. He loved the underworld too much. Got much too chummy.”

Cindy
was taken aback. “How so?” she interjected.

Jeffries
turned and looked at her, then he looked at Mattheus.

“We’re
a team,” Mattheus said.

“Yeah,”
said Jeffries, “heard that Kendra wanted a woman detective on the job. She’s
always had a distrust of men. Except for Paul, of course.”

“They
had a good marriage?” asked Mattheus.

“As
good as any,” said Jeffries. “I know the cops are focusing on her, but that
seems unlikely to me. I never saw bad blood between them. And, he never complained
about her to me.  If Paul was one thing, he was loyal.”

“Who
do you think did it?” asked Mattheus plainly.

“If
you ask me, it’s one of the cons,” said Jeffries.  “They’re a tricky bunch. You’re
playing with fire when you take on these cases,” Jeffries scraped his throat
loudly.

“You
ever had any trouble with them personally?” asked Mattheus

“No,
I haven’t, but I always thought the day would come. Not to Paul, but to me. I’m
shorter with them. I can get nasty.”

“You
want me to go through your cases as well as his?” asked Mattheus.

“It’s
not necessary,” said Jeffries. “We kept our cases apart. Stick with his.”

“What
else can you tell us about him,” asked Cindy.  She felt that this guy knew a
lot more than he was letting on.

Jeffries
got antsy, “What do you want to know? Paul lived big and gave a lot. Big
tipper, too.  You’d always see him in his expensive suits, driving his yellow
car. The guy didn’t like to stay in one place for too long or be pinned down.
He loved to come and go. Did a lot of work in St. Croix, so he’d fly out for a
couple of days and then fly back home. It was a way of life for him. Everyone
got used to it.”

 “Peggy
said he loved his work, and his clients?”

“Sure,”
said Jeffries, “The guys he helped loved him too. You can’t do this job if you
don’t have some connection with them.  Paul also liked being a big man around
town, having influence in the courts and with the cops. His word had weight. He
was respected. No one could believe that he’d been found dead like that. On a
back alley, like a heap of trash! It didn’t fit.  I really would have thought
the cops would have done a better job hunting for his killer.”

“We’re
on the job now,” said Cindy.

Jeffries
looked at her, amused. “Okay,” he said, “don’t hesitate to call me if you need
anything else.” He chuckled. “Or if someone else suddenly turns up dead.”

 Mattheus
went back to the police station to do more research on Paul’s past clients and
Cindy felt it was time to drive to the address Heather gave her.  

 She
went back to the hotel and called for her car. When it arrived, she got in and
began to drive slowly to the address Heather had scrawled on that piece of paper.
Bright sun pierced the windshield and she turned the radio on loud to lift her
spirits as she drove. Lively reggae music came on and Cindy sang along with it.
It was easy to feel good down here. For a brief second she wished Mattheus was
with her, sharing the drive and music.

The
address she was headed to was all the way on the Eastern tip of the island. It
was almost a world apart, a residential community that dipped down along the
ocean. Some said it was an island of its own. Cindy was more comfortable
driving now as she learned how to navigate the treacherous, winding roads. This
work was exciting. Every day she learned something new and met someone else
that expanded her mind. Now she enjoyed the changing scenery, as the ocean came
into view and then disappeared again behind a clump of trees. As she wound her
way to this distant peninsula, she looked forward to what and who she would
meet next.

Heather
had told her the person would tell her all she needed to know. Cindy didn’t
take that so seriously. At times it was hard to take anything too seriously
here, with the warm breezes, beautiful ocean and endless flowers that greeted
you wherever you went. The case seemed elusive and confusing still, with
nothing that she could bite into. But Kendra’s life could be in danger if Cindy
didn’t find something significant soon. Cindy didn’t sense that Kendra was a
killer, but she’d been wrong before and was holding all options open now.

As
the car approached the destination, the roads and streets smoothed out. Cindy
drove through small, winding lanes until she came to the back entrance of the
community and was able to drive in. She then drove slowly along the manicured
pathways. This was definitely a world set apart, one that seemed to enjoy
keeping others out, being secluded, and making sure everything stayed the way
it had always been. The beautiful, well-appointed homes were nestled between
old trees, surrounded by beautiful lawns and gardens.  They seemed as if
nothing had touched them ever, or ever could.

After
a few more blocks, finally, Cindy came to the address she’d been given. It was
a pale beige stucco house, set off the street, behind huge palm trees. Cindy
parked outside, got out, and looked around.  For as far as the eye could see,
there was nobody.

Cindy
walked up to the front entrance. There was a huge, copper knocker on the front
door, with a carved woman on it. For a second, Cindy pulled her hand back. Then
she laughed, lifted her hand to the knocker and knocked loudly. The sound rang
out through the quiet block.

In
a few moments, a beautiful, exquisitely groomed woman in her late forties, with
huge green eyes, soft brown hair and perfect skin, opened the door. She looked
at Cindy, curiously.

“Yes?”
she said, standing at the door.

“I’m
Cindy Blaine,” said Cindy.

The
woman made no response, just kept gazing.

“Heather
May gave me your address,” Cindy went on.

The
woman’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“I
apologize for disturbing you, but may I take a few minutes of your time?” asked
Cindy.

“What
is this about?” asked the woman.

“I’m
investigating a case on the island,” Cindy said.

The
woman seemed completely uninterested.  “I don’t know anything about cases on
the island,” she said. “We live quietly here and don’t pay attention to the
messes all around.”

“I
can see that.”

Cindy
smiled, but the woman didn’t respond.

“I’m
investigating a murder that took place a short while ago,” Cindy spoke with
greater urgency.

The
woman shivered a moment.  “Awful,” she said.

“Yes,
awful,” said Cindy. “And I need to talk to you for just a few minutes.”

“Why
me?” the woman seemed truly disconcerted. “I have nothing to tell you about any
murder.”

“But
you may know something that will lead me closer,” said Cindy definitively. “Heather
May said you might be able to.”

The
woman looked perturbed and shook her head. “I barely know Heather May.”

“Just
for a few minutes.”

Reluctantly,
she opened the door a little wider and let Cindy in.

The
home was gorgeous, immaculate, perfectly decorated. The woman showed Cindy into
the main sitting room and both of them sat opposite one another in high back
wooden chairs.

 “I
let you in because Heather May sent you,” the woman said quietly. “Even though
I barely know her, she’s rather close to a dear friend of mine. My name is
Margot Kowan.”

“Pleased
to meet you,” said Cindy, looking around. “Your place is truly beautiful.”

“Thank
you,” said Margot. “It’s a great relief to be here, apart from the turbulence
of the main island.”

Cindy
could see how she would feel that way. “You live here with your family?” Cindy
asked.

“With
my husband and son,” said Margot, speaking matter of factly, with little
emotion.

“Your
husband works down here on the island?”

 “What
difference does that make?”

Talking
to her was like talking to an ice glacier. Cindy needed some way to make
contact and felt as if she couldn’t get through. She decided to speak to her
straight.

“Heather
told me that when I came to this address, I’d know all I needed to know about
the murder that took place on the mainland,” Cindy said.

Margot’s
eyes opened wide. “I can’t imagine why she’d say a thing like that. As I told
you, we hardly bother down here with what happens on the mainland. This is our
own little world. We like to keep it that way.”  She spoke quickly and
breathlessly.

A
long chill went up Cindy’s spine.  Margot lived in an encapsulated bubble and
didn’t want anything bursting it. She had no interest at all in being drawn
into something that was painful or sordid. Cindy decided to try another tack.

“How
do you know Heather May?” she asked.

“As
I mentioned, she’s a friend of a friend. The friend thinks the world of her. I’ve
met Heather once or twice. Seemed like a wild card to me. The hair, I mean,”
and she smiled slowly. Everything about Margot and her home were in perfect
order, not a thread out of place. Cindy could see why Heather would make her
uneasy. Cindy felt she couldn’t find an entrance way into any of Margot’s true
feelings at all.

Just
then the large French doors leading to the sitting room opened, and a tall,
lanky young man walked in. He had dark hair, dark eyebrows and a sculpted face
that reminded Cindy of someone, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly who.

“This
is my son Graham,” Margot said quietly.

Graham
looked over at Cindy and smiled shyly.

“Cindy
has come to talk to us about matters from the island,” Margot said to him.  “Seems
there was a murder there recently, and she’s trying to find out more.”

Graham
flinched.

Cindy
noticed with surprise how sensitive he was. “I’m sorry to come and disturb you,”
she said.

“Who
was murdered?” asked Graham, ill at ease.

“A
man named Paul Robbins,” said Cindy. “A pretty well known criminal defense
lawyer. Have you heard of him?”

Graham
shook his head and so did Margot.

There
seemed little else to be said here or done. Cindy couldn’t help wondering why
in the world Heather had given her this address.

Graham
turned his back to Cindy then and started walking away.

Cindy
didn’t want him to leave. He seemed more available than his mother. “Do you
spend time on the main island, Graham?” Cindy asked.

“Graham
goes to high school on the main island now,” Margot answered for him. “All the
children in this area commute there for high school. Graham is a senior now and
has spent the past four years there.”

“And
after high school?” Cindy tried to make conversation with him.

“That
is exactly what his father and I are trying to decide now,” Margot said and
stood up, as if to announce that the interview was over.

“Will
his father be here later on this evening?” Cindy asked, suddenly curious to meet
him.

“He’s
out of town for a few weeks right now on business,” said Margot, irritated. “Why?”

Graham
turned and looked back at Cindy then, over his shoulder. “He’s away on business
most of the time,” Graham said, sullenly.

Margot
didn’t like that. “But he provides a wonderful life for you Graham. For both of
us.”

Graham
turned back then and continued walking to where he’d been headed, soon leaving
the room.

Margot
sighed. “He can be difficult at times,” she said, “recalcitrant. Teenagers are
that way often, I hear. He was perfect as a child growing up though, never said
or did a thing to upset us.”

“Everything
changes,” remarked Cindy, “it can’t be helped.”

Margot
seemed to like that. “You can say that again,” she said with more intensity. “Listen,
I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. I just don’t know anything about what you’re
doing. I have no idea why Heather sent you to me.  My guess is that she can be
a trickster at times. Gets pleasure out of creating dramas.  It’s something I
sensed the first time I met her. I wouldn’t take what she says too seriously. I
have no idea what my friend sees in her at all.”

Cindy
had briefly thought the same thing herself. “Of course,” said Cindy, “I
understand.”

That
seemed to relieve Margot even more. “Come on, let me show you around,” she said
then. “I don’t want your trip to be entirely worthless.”

“It
wasn’t worthless,” said Cindy. “It was nice meeting you and Graham.”

Margot
seemed touched by Cindy’s comment and smiled warmly.  “How lovely of you to say
that. Let me show you around. Perhaps something will strike you.”

Cindy
got up and followed Margot through the majestic rooms.

“This
painting is from the Gornigor collection,” Margot started, bringing Cindy to a
huge impressionistic oil painting that hung on the far wall. “This other one,
across from it, is from the Rudon gallery.”

Cindy
looked at both of them. They had power, passion, majesty. Then something else
caught her eye. Over on a thick, mahogany table, under the window, were some
photographs framed in antique gold. Cindy went over to look at them more
closely.  As she got closer, she stopped and stared, unable to move from the
spot.

“Who’s
that?” asked Cindy when she could finally speak.

“Just
my husband, Gregg, myself and Graham,” said Margot. “Why?”

“This
is your husband?” asked Margot, dumbfounded.

“Yes,
of course. What are you getting at?”

Cindy
stared at the photograph over and over, and then looked at Margot, her heart
pounding.

“When
was that photograph taken?” asked Cindy, when she could finally get her voice
to speak.

“What’s
wrong with you?” Margot asked, nervous. “It’s a routine photo. I have lots of
them. We took that one a couple of months ago.”

“Does
your husband have a twin brother?” asked Cindy.

“Of
course not,” said Margot irritated. “Tell me what is wrong!”

Cindy
had no idea what to say. She stood there completely frozen. There was no
question about it - the man in the photograph was Paul.