Hour Game (31 page)

“I
DIDN’T KILL HIM,
S
EAN.
I
DIDN’T.”

“But you were buying drugs from him?”

They were sitting in the living room. King and Michelle were in wing chairs. Dorothea was on the small sofa across from them, clutching the arm of the furniture as though if she let go, she’d topple to the floor.

“I’ve been under tremendous pressure lately,” she began slowly. “I’ve had some… financial reverses.”

“Spending a thousand dollars a night on drugs isn’t exactly the way to stop financial problems.”

She looked at him, stunned. “Did you talk to that little shrimp?”

“Careful, one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Tell me about that night.”

“How much do you know?”

“Enough that if you start lying, I’ll know, and that won’t make me happy.”

“I don’t know what came over me, I really don’t. I could tell Kyle wanted to sleep with me. Not that it wasn’t obvious. Men are so transparent.”

“But you didn’t want to sleep with
him
?”

“Of course not. But I’d had a lot to drink. And I’d made up my mind that that night was the last time. Like you said, drugs weren’t going to solve my problems. And it wasn’t just the money
problems. It was the family… Marrying into the Battle clan carries with it a lot of pressure and stress.”

“I can see having Remmy as a mother-in-law wouldn’t exactly be a walk in the park,” commented Michelle dryly.

“It was a complete and total nightmare. Everything I did, wore, ate, drank or said was scrutinized. And they weren’t tactful about criticism. Bobby was far worse than Remmy. He was such a tyrant. And his mood swings were terrifying. Smiling and happy one minute, screaming and bullying the next. Anyone could be a target, even Remmy. I’ve started seeing a therapist, trying to tackle my issues in a more constructive way.”

“That’s good,” said King. “But you were telling us about Kyle.”

“Yes. Well, when Kyle came with the drugs, I was a little looped and decided to screw with him. So I, well, I…” She stopped, her face flushing. “It was idiotic. I know that.”

“We know about the striptease. You don’t have to elaborate. But you pulled a gun on him.”

“He was about to attack me! I had to protect myself.”

“And you demanded the money back.”

“I’d paid him enough. He was stealing the drugs. His profit margin was a hundred percent. I was just trying to make the transaction a little fairer from my end.”

“So you got the money back?”

“Yes. I pretended I was going to shoot him, and he ran out. That’s the last time I saw him, I swear.”

“How did you end up approaching him in the first place?”

“I knew he worked at Sylvia’s office, although we never had any direct contact. I’d gone there for a back injury. The painkillers she prescribed became sort of a necessity, but after my treatment was completed, Sylvia wouldn’t write any more prescriptions. But by then I was hooked. I knew Sylvia kept the drugs I wanted at her office. I could tell Kyle was a marginal person: ready, willing and able to do anything for money. And I knew prescription drugs from a medical office were far safer than anything you could buy on the street. Besides, I had no
wish to get hooked up with an actual drug dealer. I picked the Aphrodisiac as the rendezvous spot because I’d had lunches and meetings there and knew they had rooms and wouldn’t ask any questions.”

“And you don’t think he knew who you were? He’d obviously seen you at Sylvia’s office.”

“I always wore glasses and a scarf, kept the lights low and spoke very little. And if he had recognized me, I’m sure he would’ve tried to blackmail me.”

King was looking at her closely when she said this. She caught his look and paled.

“I know this seems really bad, Sean.”

“Dorothea, it is really bad. Does Eddie know about any of this?”

“No! Please, you can’t tell him. We don’t have the world’s greatest marriage, but I still care for him and this will kill him.”

“I can’t promise you anything, Dorothea. Now, I want to know where you were last night.”

“I was here.”

“Eddie can corroborate that?” asked Michelle. “He came back early from the reenactment.”

“How did you know that?” asked Dorothea.

Michelle looked uncomfortable. “I drove up with Chip Bailey to Middleton to see the battle. Chip had to leave early and Eddie drove me back. He said he wasn’t going to stay for the second day of the reenactment.”

Dorothea stared at her suspiciously and then said, “Well, he wasn’t in the house last night. He was probably in his studio. He sleeps there sometimes.”

Michelle started to say something but then stopped.

King said, “So you don’t have an alibi. By the way, I called the Jefferson Hotel in Richmond. You never checked in on the night Bobby was killed, like you said you did. The FBI will also have discovered that fact. Were you at the Aphrodisiac that night?”

“Yes. Kyle brought me the drugs around ten o’clock.”

“Ironic.”

“What is?”

“He was your alibi for your father-in-law’s murder, but now he’s dead. So unless someone else at the club saw you, there goes your alibi for that murder too.”

Dorothea put her head in her hands and started sobbing. Finally, Michelle rose, went into the kitchen and came back with a wet cloth for her.

“Just take it easy, Dorothea,” said King. “Kyle’s death hasn’t been ruled a murder yet. It might just be a drug overdose. Or even a suicide.”

“I can’t imagine that man taking his own life. The little I saw of him he was far too interested in furthering his own interests.” Dorothea wiped her face with the cloth and then stared across at King. “So where do we go from here?”

“We can’t keep your actions secret.”

Dorothea’s lips started to tremble. “I guess I couldn’t expect you would.”

“The extent of what has to be revealed is still to be determined, however.”

“I didn’t kill Kyle Montgomery or my father-in-law!”

“Speaking of the latter, why did you go to the hospital that day?”

“Does it really matter now?”

“It could.”

She drew a long breath. “Bobby promised me money, a larger part of his estate. His will needed to be changed to do that. He said he’d do it, but had never given me proof he had.”

“So you went there to see if he’d verify he’d done it?”

“I heard he was awake and talking. I didn’t know if I’d have another chance. My financial problems would be solved if Bobby had changed his will like he said he would.”

“No, you mean they’d be solved when he
died
and you actually got the money,” corrected Michelle.

“Yes,” Dorothea said quietly as she looked down. “Anyway,
when I got there he wasn’t coherent, and was back on the ventilator.”

“Did Eddie know about this change-in-the-will prospect?”

“No. Eddie thinks we’re fine financially. Eddie doesn’t worry about anything.”

“I think you’re wrong there,” said Michelle.

“Why would Bobby change his will to favor you and Eddie over Remmy? From what I’ve heard he’d already provided for you both.”

Dorothea smiled tightly. “Can one ever have enough money? I know I can’t. And Bobby had so
damn
much of it.”

He eyed her steadily. “Bobby was a tough negotiator. So what was the quid pro quo, Dorothea?”

“I’d rather not say,” she finally replied. “It’s not something I’m exactly proud of.”

“Actually, I think I can guess. The little striptease you did for Kyle probably paled in comparison. By the way, why did you drive one of Bobby’s classic cars to the Aphrodisiac?”

She looked at him with a triumphant smile. “I figured he owed me at least that. And he never drove them anymore.”

“Do you know why?”

“He got tired of them, I guess. The great Bobby Battle was renowned for that. Getting tired of things and then forgetting about them.” She stifled a sob.

King stood and looked down at her with little sympathy. “If Kyle’s death is ruled a murder, the police will want to question you.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now. It can’t get any worse.”

“Oh, no, Dorothea, it can get a lot worse.”

As they left the house, Michelle said, “How did you know it was her? I had Savannah pegged as our druggie-stripper.”

“No, she couldn’t be.”

“Why not? You remember the way she flaunted herself at the pool that day.”

“Exactly. That was the answer. Sylvia said that when she was
at the Aphrodisiac, she overheard Kyle say that the woman was
flaunting
her naked butt.”

“Yes, so?”

“Well, Savannah has her name tattooed on
her
butt. Other things being equal, I doubt she’d show it off to Kyle if she wanted to remain incognito. There’s only one Savannah in Wrightsburg with a derriere like that.”

L
ATER THAT DAY THEY RECEIVED WORD FROM
S
YLVIA THAT
she’d completed the autopsy of Kyle Montgomery. They arranged to meet at King’s office. When she showed up, Todd Williams was with her. A minute later Chip Bailey pulled into the parking lot.

“I called him,” explained Williams. “I figured we needed to keep him in the loop, even though Kyle’s killing isn’t connected to the serial murders.”

“Are you sure it’s not?” replied King.

Williams looked at him sharply. “Are you
trying
to drive me nuts?”

As they settled themselves in the conference room, Sylvia opened her folder.

“As I said, we won’t know the exact cause of death until we get the toxicology screens back,” she began. “However, there were some unusual findings on the external exam that lead me to believe his death was suspicious.”

“As in suicide by overdose?” asked King.

“No, as in homicide.” She paused and then began speaking quickly but firmly. “Kyle was not a known drug user. We found no other drugs or drug paraphernalia in his apartment, and there were no other needle marks on any part of his body.”

“But you did find a used syringe with something in it and a needle mark in the arm,” commented Bailey.

“The something in the syringe has been confirmed as heroin. Okay, let’s say Kyle wanted to kill himself. Heroin is a street
drug, so you can never be certain of the dose you’re actually injecting. And you also have to wonder where he obtained it. I obviously don’t have any in my pharmacy.”

Williams said, “But he’d know more than a layperson. And the sad truth is, there are sources of illegal drugs everywhere.”

“But if you’re going to kill yourself, you’re looking to get it right the first time. Bottom line: heroin isn’t a good choice for suicide. But more importantly, I found two small superficial puncture wounds in the center of Kyle’s chest. I hadn’t noticed them at the crime scene because of the poor lighting.”

“What sort of punctures?” said Bailey.

“Like tiny needles set barely an inch apart. It’s some sort of patterned injury.”

“Like from a syringe?” asked Michelle.

“No. And you wouldn’t use a syringe on your chest. Arms and legs are by far the best locations for injection purposes.”

“Well, what do you think it is, then?” asked King.

“I’ve seen a case like this before in Richmond, after a riot. A man went into cardiac arrest and died after police incapacitated him with a Taser gun. A Taser would leave twin marks like I saw on Kyle where the electrified darts impacted the body.”

Bailey said, “So somebody shoots him with the Taser and then injects him with an overdose. That’s why there was no sign of a struggle.”

“I can’t be absolutely certain about the Taser, but there’s more. I also found small petechiae and hemorrhages in his eyes and mouth.”

“That’s a sign of asphyxia, of being smothered,” said Michelle.

“Exactly. The hemorrhages occur as one struggles for air. Now, there was no evidence of strangulation at autopsy, so I’m thinking he might have been suffocated with an object that would leave no such traces, like a pillow. And heroin is a respiratory depressant; his breathing would already have been very shallow, and that would have aided the person trying to kill him by suffocation.”

“So if he was murdered and the person tried to make it look like a suicide, who has the motive to kill him?” asked Bailey.

“Well, the woman he was selling drugs to at the Aphrodisiac for one,” said Williams. Bailey looked at him questioningly, and the police chief filled in his colleague.

Bailey said, “So she gets the money back, why kill him?”

“What if Kyle learned who she was and was trying to blackmail her?” suggested Sylvia. “That would be a prime motive for murder: fear of exposure.”

“So we need to find this woman, and fast,” said Williams.

Michelle and King exchanged glances.

“We know who she is,” he said.

They all looked at him in surprise.

“Well, who the hell is she?” asked Williams.

“Dorothea Battle. And she’s got no alibi for the time Kyle was killed.”

“Dorothea Battle?” The police chief rose from his chair. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this right away, Sean?”

“We just found out ourselves. She admitted it to us.”

Williams pulled out his cell phone. “Well, we’ll pick her up pronto, then.”

“She’s at her house.”

“You mean you hope she is. If she’s flown the coop, I’m holding you responsible.”

“I don’t think she killed Kyle, Todd.”

Williams ignored this and spoke into his phone, ordering the arrest of Dorothea Battle. When that was done, he looked at the private investigator. “And what do you base that conclusion on?”

“Gut instinct.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If Dorothea did kill this guy, we might have three killers out there. The serial killer, the person who killed Bobby Battle and now whoever killed Montgomery,” said Bailey.

“Or Dorothea could have killed Bobby,” said Williams. He
looked at King. “Did she say anything about why she went to see Battle?”

“Dorothea was hoping Bobby had changed his will to give her more money. She said she went to the hospital to make sure he’d done so. As it turned out, he hadn’t. Remmy got the money. So his death didn’t benefit Dorothea at all.”

Michelle spoke up. “She said he was incoherent. But what if when she visited him, he told her that he hadn’t changed his will and in anger she poisoned him?”

King said, “I don’t think Battle was capable of answering any questions. He was on the ventilator, which makes speech pretty much impossible.”

Bailey glanced at King. “How’s your theory looking regarding the victims being connected somehow?”

King shrugged. “Still working the angle.”

After the others had left, King picked up the phone and made a call. But he put the phone down a few moments later.

“Who were you trying to get in touch with?” asked Michelle.

“Harry Carrick. There was no answer. I’ll try again later. Once Dorothea is picked up, the shit will really hit the fan. Harry’s friends with Remmy, so I’d like to give him some advance warning. He may want to go by and see her. And Dorothea’s going to need a lawyer.”

“I wonder if I should find Eddie and tell him.”

“Better he hears from someone else. Bailey will probably want to do the honors.”

“How come you didn’t tell Bailey about Canney’s connection to Battle?”

“I don’t know if there is a real connection yet. I’d like to be sure.”

“But you have your suspicions?”

“Yes, I do. Strong ones.”

“Care to share them?”

“My hunch is that Steve Canney was Bobby Battle’s child by Mrs. Canney. And that Roger Canney made the old man pay
after his wife died. That would explain his sudden wealth and the fact that he has no pictures of his adulterous spouse and the son who wasn’t his.”

“I’m surprised he waited until she died in the car accident before he started blackmailing Battle,” she said.

King stared at his partner. “Car accident?” he said slowly.

“Yes, she was drinking and crashed her car. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember very well, thank you.”

She noted the faraway look in her partner’s eyes. “You’re on to something. Care to share?”

He glanced at her. “What if Canney’s wife didn’t die in a car accident?”

“But she did. They found her in her car at the bottom of a ravine. I told you I checked with Todd on that.”

“Right. She died in a car crash. But that doesn’t necessarily make it an accident, does it?”