Polished Off (9 page)

Read Polished Off Online

Authors: Barbara Colley

“What?”
Charlotte held up a hand. “Just let me finish. We called the police, and when they showed up, they confirmed it. They questioned all of us—the two workers, Patsy Dufour, and me. When the detective finally said I could leave, the other detective came in with a billfold they’d found in the urn. Daniel, honey”—Charlotte reached over and squeezed his arm—“that billfold belonged to Ricco Martinez.”
Daniel blanched. “Martinez?” he whispered.
“They—the crime-scene team—found Ricco’s driver’s license inside the billfold.”
For what felt like an eternity, Daniel simply stared at her with a stunned look of disbelief. When he finally found his voice, it was a harsh whisper. “Are—are they sure?”
Charlotte slowly shook her head. “I don’t think they’re absolutely sure. I figure they’ll have to do some further testing—forensic stuff or something like that to be certain. But you see now why I needed to tell you, don’t you? One way or another they’ll want to question Nadia ... and probably you, too,” she added, “since you’re the one who arranged for him to get out of jail.”
Daniel shoved his fingers through his hair, then abruptly stood and began pacing. After a moment, he sat back down. Turning toward Charlotte, he took her hands in his own. “Okay, Auntie, as best as you can remember, I need to know everything. I need to know exactly what the police did and said. Who were the detectives—their names—and what kind of questions did they ask? Think you can remember all of that for me?”
Charlotte nodded, and with a reassuring squeeze, Daniel released her hands.
“The detective who questioned me was Judith’s ex-partner, Will Richeaux,” she told him. She waited a heartbeat to see if Daniel had any kind of reaction to his sister’s ex-partner’s name. But Daniel’s only reaction was a frown.
“Guess I didn’t realize they weren’t partners anymore,” he commented.
When he said nothing more about it, a wave of relief rippled through Charlotte. Thank goodness he didn’t know about the affair his sister had had with Will Richeaux. On top of everything else, she didn’t want to be the one to have to explain about that, too. As far as she knew, she was the only member of the family who had known about the disastrous affair. Of course, Louis had known about it, but he didn’t count.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “The other detective’s name was Tom,” she continued, “but I never heard his last name. Anyway, Detective Richeaux was the one who asked all the questions. He questioned me first,” she explained, then she went on to tell Daniel exactly what Will had asked her and Patsy. When she got to the part where Patsy had mentioned that she’d bought the urn at an old warehouse, Charlotte’s voice trailed off.
What was it about that warehouse? Out of the clear blue, she suddenly remembered. “That’s why!” she exclaimed. “That’s why it sounded so familiar.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Why what sounded so familiar?”
“The address—the address of the warehouse where Patsy bought the urn. It’s the same one—no, wait.” She slowly shook her head. “That can’t be right. Remember back when you got Ricco out of jail? Not long after that, a bunch of stuff—statues and things—were discovered in the back room of an old warehouse. The warehouse had been sold, and when the new owners started their renovations, they found some of the stolen cemetery artifacts there.”
Daniel still had a blank look on his face.
“It was in the paper for days.”
When he finally nodded, she continued. “Well, supposedly the police confiscated all of it. For evidence,” she added. “But if they confiscated it all, then how could Patsy have bought the urn there?” Another thought occurred to her. “Patsy said ‘he,’ ” she murmured.
No wonder he sold it to me.
So who was ‘he’? Charlotte wondered.
Daniel shifted and turned so that he faced her. “Look, Aunt Charley, I vaguely remember reading about that stuff being found, but right now I think there are more urgent problems to consider. I’m more concerned about Nadia and what all of this is going to do to her ... and to Davy,” he added in a whisper. “Poor little guy.”
Daniel’s voice was hoarse with emotion, and Charlotte strongly suspected that he was remembering his own loss so many years ago. Though Daniel and Judith’s father hadn’t died, he might as well have. When he’d divorced their mother, it was as if he’d divorced his children, too, leaving them to forever wonder what they had done so wrong that their own father would have nothing to do with them.
“Davy still remembers his father, you know,” Daniel continued. “Still talks about him and even dreams about him sometimes.”
Charlotte’s throat tightened with sympathy. “Oh, honey, you’re right. I’m so very sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” Daniel assured her. “But tell me, Auntie ...” He paused. “How do you explain to a three-year-old that his father is dead?”
“Not very easily, I’m afraid,” she murmured. Like Daniel, Charlotte also knew about loss, knew what it felt like to lose someone you love. Unlike Daniel, her loss had been permanent. She’d been eighteen when Hank’s father had died. Then, only two years later, her own parents had been killed in a horrible accident. But Charlotte had been old enough to understand about death. Davy ... Davy was just a child, a very young child.
Daniel stared past Charlotte for several moments. “No, not easy at all.” After a moment he drew in a deep breath. “Right now, though, I need to break the news to Nadia—prepare her for when the police show up. And they will show up,” he added. “You can bet on it. If, in fact, those bones do belong to Ricco, there’s a good chance that Nadia could end up being their number one suspect. We might have some time, though, depending on how long it takes them to confirm the identity. But not much.”
“Daniel, I’m sure they will want to question Nadia, but what about those people he ran around with, the other thieves who were arrested with him? Seems to me that they’d be a lot more suspect than an upstanding citizen like Nadia?” Charlotte hesitated, her mind mulling over the events. “Of course, there’s another possibility as well. Maybe, just maybe, the skeleton isn’t Ricco,” she suggested. “It’s possible it
could
be someone else.”
After a moment, he gave a one-shouldered shrug, and, though he still looked skeptical, he said, “I suppose anything’s possible. But you and I both know that’s a long shot. What other reason would his billfold be in the urn?”
Charlotte thought about it for a minute. “There
could
be other reasons,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe it was stolen or he just lost it. Maybe the person in the urn is a pickpocket. Or maybe the person in the urn simply found it on the street somewhere—maybe a homeless person.”
“Maybe,” Daniel said. “But I doubt it. Regardless, I still have to warn Nadia.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Why do you think she would be a suspect in the first place? I know they lived together and all, but—”
“I don’t think it,” he said. “But the police will, once they check their files and start digging into Ricco and Nadia’s backgrounds. Ricco Martinez was an abusive bastard—sorry, Auntie, but that’s exactly what he was. Nadia and Davy both have the mental and physical scars to prove it. And there are hospital records—emergency-room reports. One time he broke her arm. Another time he split her lip. Of course, she told the hospital she’d fallen, but if the police dig deep enough ...” He shrugged.
Charlotte was shocked at what Daniel was telling her. But at the same time, a deep anger took root within. She never had liked Ricco Martinez, and now she knew why. Maybe all along she’d sensed what kind of man he was.
She frowned. “There’s something I don’t understand. If Ricco was abusive to her, why was she so anxious to get him released from jail? Looks like she would have been glad that he was in jail. And if I remember right, she told me—”
“Oh, I know all about what she told you, Auntie—about Davy missing his father, crying for him. It was all a bunch of bull to get you to help her. Ricco had used his one phone call from jail to call her. He’d told her that if she didn’t find a way to get him out, she and Davy would live to regret it. He claimed he had connections to certain people who would make sure they regretted it.” He shook his head. “Can you imagine? A father threatening his own little boy like that What a sleazebag.”
The anger within Charlotte grew. “Humph! Worse than a sleazebag, if you ask me,” she answered. Threatening anyone was bad enough, but threatening an innocent child was reprehensible.
Daniel abruptly stood. “I need to get home now.”
Charlotte stood, too.
“One thing, though,” Daniel said. “I hate to ask you, but would you mind going with me to tell Nadia about all of this? She respects you, and I think she’d be glad you were there—you know, for moral support and all. I would really appreciate it.”
Charlotte nodded. “Of course, hon. Just give me a minute and I’ll follow you in my van. That way you won’t have to worry about bringing me back home.”
New Orleans is divided into distinctive sections by the natives. There’s the CBD, which is the Central Business District, the French Quarter, the Garden District, the Irish Channel, New Orleans East, Uptown, Downtown, and more, depending on who is talking.
Daniel’s home, like Charlotte’s, was located in Uptown, but his home was in the Broadmoor area of Uptown. The drive from Charlotte’s to Daniel’s could take anywhere between five to ten minutes. Travel time depended on the route taken and the time of day. It also depended on the amount of traffic congestion along the stretch of South Claiborne where repairs were being done to the city’s century-old water lines running beneath what most people in the rest of the country would call the median. New Orleanians referred to the strip of land that separated a street’s lanes of traffic as simply “the neutral ground.”
Six P.M. traffic was light. As Charlotte sat waiting behind Daniel at the traffic light at St. Charles Avenue, her stomach growled, and she was wishing that she’d grabbed a quick sandwich before they’d left. But not even the thought of food distracted her for long. Like a nagging toothache, she kept going over the conversation she’d had with Daniel—more specifically, the part about Nadia being a suspect.
“Not fair,” she murmured. “Just plain not fair.” Of all the people she knew, Nadia was the least likely to be a suspect for anything, much less murder. But considering the fact that she’d been abused by Ricco ...
Charlotte shook her head. “No way,” she whispered. Even though Ricco had abused Nadia, Charlotte still couldn’t imagine Nadia killing him. It just wasn’t logical. Unless she was defending Davy....
But if, by some stretch of the imagination, Charlotte could believe Nadia had somehow managed to kill Ricco, there was still the fact that he had been stuffed into the urn. Since Nadia wasn’t much bigger than Charlotte, it would have been physically impossible.
Not if she’d turned the urn on its side
. In her mind’s eye, Charlotte pictured the two large men in Patsy’s yard struggling to even move the heavy urn. “No way,” Charlotte whispered again. There was simply no way Nadia could have handled that heavy urn by herself.
A horn suddenly blared behind her, and Charlotte jumped. The traffic light had turned green. “Okay, okay,” she muttered. “Just keep your shirt on.” She eased the van across St. Charles Avenue.
The killer had to have been a man, she decided as she bumped across the streetcar tracks that ran down the middle of St. Charles. And a big man at that. A man at least the size of Daniel....
Daniel
.
Chapter Six
U
ntil that very moment, the possibility of Daniel being considered a suspect had not even entered Charlotte’s mind. But it should have, considering his intimate involvement with Nadia. Not for one second did Charlotte think that Daniel would have done such a horrible thing. She didn’t. And he wouldn’t. Not her Daniel, who was funny and smart, yet sweet and kind. Not in a million years. Besides, as an attorney, he was an officer of the court. That fact, along with his impeccable moral and spiritual convictions, was more than enough reason for Charlotte to reject the possibility of Daniel being a murderer.
But the police might think differently. Charlotte grimaced, and a hard knot of fear grew in her stomach. There was no “might” about it. If Nadia was their number one suspect, then Daniel would definitely be their number two suspect. Maybe even their number one, especially once they learned about his and Nadia’s relationship during the past six months and their recent marriage.

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