Long Shadows, page 25
“What incident?” said Decker sharply.
“I don’t want to tell tales out of school.”
“And we want to solve a series of murders, Mrs. Perlman,” said White.
She placed her hands in her lap and assumed a placid manner. “It was about a year ago. It involved a prostitute. Charges were never filed and the matter got hushed up. I think she got paid off.”
“Can you be more specific?” asked White.
“She was beaten.”
“By Langley?”
“He denied it, of course, but he was seen with the woman around the time of the incident. And she initially named him as her attacker.”
“But then…recanted?” said White.
“Yes. I’m thinking that money changed hands. But no one could ever really prove anything. And the woman left town.”
White looked at Decker. “Okay, why would Cummins date a guy with that sort of rep? She must have known.”
“Maybe she liked the danger aspect.”
“Langley and Cummins also went to law school together at NYU. He told us that the judge was very different from the woman he’d known back then. He said she had gotten a lot wilder. Does that sound like your friend to you?”
“Well, I didn’t think she’d sleep with someone who was her bodyguard, so maybe I didn’t know her as well as I thought. But…she seemed to be, to use an antiquated expression, sowing some wild oats after her divorce.”
“Well, apparently, someone didn’t like that,” noted White.
Chapter 60
THEY NEXT TRIED DORIS KLINE’S house, but she didn’t answer their knocks.
“Car’s in the garage,” said Decker as he peered in the window. “But there’s another space where a golf cart might be parked.”
“Maybe she’s teeing off at the golf course, too,” said White.
“Seems to be a strong trend in this state.”
They got back into the car, but Decker didn’t put it in gear. He looked at White. “So, what would you do next?”
“I’d head back to the courthouse and talk to the judge’s clerks, especially Sara Angstrom.”
“The judge might have confided in her, you mean?”
“Women do, Decker, a lot more than men. Guys just like to keep it bottled in. Until they blow. By the way, my mother said to tell you hello. I think she likes you.”
“But she hasn’t even met me.”
“That might be the reason,” said White with a smile.
As Decker pulled off, he grinned, too.
* * *
Sara Angstrom met with them in her office. She was dressed somberly, and her mood matched her dress.
“I’m not sure what I can tell you that would be helpful.”
White said, “Anything that the judge might have told you about her personal life. Even if it seemed trivial. It might be important.”
“I really don’t feel comfortable divulging information like that.”
“Sara,” said White. “Someone murdered your boss, brutally. Nothing you tell us will go any further, and it’s not like the judge would mind. All we want is to find whoever took her life. I’m sure you want that, too.”
Angstrom looked anxiously between them for a moment before nodding and leaning back in her chair. “I knew about Dennis Langley. Judge Cummins told me and Dan Sykes, I suppose so we would be aware of any potential conflict. I didn’t really like him. I’ve seen him a lot in the courthouse. He just always seemed so full of himself. He practically struts through the place.”
“Then were you surprised the judge was seeing him?” asked Decker.
Angstrom seemed to withdraw into herself at this query.
“Please, Sara, whatever you can tell us,” implored White.
“When I came here the judge had been divorced for a couple of years. She was beautiful, smart, and very well off. I knew about her family money. And then I went to her house and saw how lovely that was, and her clothes were all designer stuff. And she vacationed in the South of France and Italy, and she’d even been to Japan and Australia. Pretty amazing life.”
“Tell us about her life lately,” said Decker.
“When I first got here she wasn’t really dating anyone, I mean, not seriously. But then, all of a sudden, she started seeing a string of guys, including Langley. It was like a switch was turned on for her.”
“She was nearing fifty. Maybe she just wanted to cut loose and have some fun,” said Decker. “Midlife crises aren’t limited to guys.”
“Maybe that was it. She seemed so straitlaced before. But then she started dressing, well, younger, I guess. New, cool hairstyle, blond highlights. She dieted and lost weight, not that she really needed to. I think she might have had some work done on her face. Her clothes were really costly, I could tell. But…”
“Maybe not exactly age appropriate?” suggested White.
“It’s no business of mine,” said Angstrom firmly. “She could dress however she wanted. But it was just a change in her, I guess. That’s what stood out to me.”
“Any other guys that ‘stood out’?” asked Decker.
“Not really. I was surprised that she was seeing Langley, though.”
“Did she ever talk to you about him?”
“Only once, really, after he came to visit her in chambers and I saw them exchange a kiss. She must have noticed the look on my face. After he left she laughed and said for me not to worry. She knew what she was doing. And that it was just fun for her. She wasn’t going to marry him, even if that’s what he wanted.”
“She said that?” asked Decker. “That he wanted to marry her?”
“Yes. I was relieved. I mean, I think the guy’s a creep. There was some story about him and a prostitute around the time I first got here.”
“Yeah, we heard about that. Did the judge ever mention that to you?”
“No.”
Decker said, “Langley told us that the judge never asked him to her house. Whenever they were…intimate, they were at his house, and they once went to a hotel in Miami.”
Angstrom blanched. “That’s weird. Why would she do that? It’s not like she was married or anything. She could do what she wanted, where she wanted.”
“He explained it away as her perhaps being afraid of something.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t him she was afraid of?” asked Angstrom.
“Did she ever confide in you that she was scared of Langley?”
“No. But when she broke it off she told me that it was time, that he was getting too needy, too, I don’t know, obsessed. And she had to ‘cut the cord’—those were her words.”
White glanced at Decker. She said to Angstrom, “Langley’s girlfriend gave him an alibi for the judge’s murder.”
“You mean Gloria Chase?”
“How do you know her name?”
“Because Langley loves to tell everyone that he’s dating her. She’s apparently some amazing businesswoman. She’s also gorgeous. So he treats her as some big prize.” She paused. “That’s funny.”
“What is?” asked White.
“A friend of mine works at the county clerk’s office. She told me she saw Langley and Chase there.”
“When?” asked Decker.
“Yesterday.”
“What were they doing at the clerk’s office?” asked White.
“My friend said they were getting a marriage license.”
Chapter 61
YOU DRIVE, I NEED TO Google something,” said Decker after they left the courthouse.
As they got into the car, White said, “Let me guess—Florida law on spousal testimony?”
Decker nodded curtly. As they drove off he scrolled through some screens and said, “Okay, Florida has no testimonial privilege, but it does have a spousal communication privilege. So if they get married Langley could stop his wife from revealing confidential communications they had unless a couple of exceptions exist, which I’m sure the smart criminal lawyer will make sure never do.”
“But she already alibied him, Decker.”
“And if she was lying? If he told her to say that and then that communication is privileged and she can’t be asked about whether he told her to lie?”
“But how do we even charge the guy if the lady says he was with her that night?”
“We need to talk to her before she ties the knot.”
“You really think he might be our killer?”
“He sounds like an overbearing, slick creep to me, but I’ve met lots of them and most turn out to be scared of their own shadow. But it only takes one exception to that rule for a murder to happen. And keep in mind that if I’m right and there are two killers involved, nailing Langley only solves half the equation.”
“Again, the two-killers theory is not something I’m convinced of. Although I don’t see a guy like Langley stuffing foreign money down people’s throats and following us to Key Largo and taking out Kelly and shooting an FBI agent. But maybe he’s a sociopath.”
“Let’s also talk to Gloria Chase’s neighbors. And Langley’s. They might have seen him that night.”
“The murder took place in the middle of the night. They might not have seen anything because they were in bed.”
“We’ll never know if we don’t ask.”
* * *
They struck out in Langley’s upscale neighborhood. The people on either side of him had been out of town since before the murders. The neighbor across the street had seen nothing and couldn’t even tell them if Langley’s car was there that night, since he had a two-car garage.
“We can do traffic camera searches,” suggested White. “He wouldn’t have been going through any tolls, so we can’t capture anything there. We can follow the route from his house to Chase’s and see if anyone might have been around that night who might have seen something.”
“He drives a dark blue Bentley, so at least it’s a memorable vehicle.”
“How do you know that?”
“It was parked outside his office when we went to talk to him there,” said Decker.
“But how do you know it was his ride?”
“The vanity plate read LAW1. Doesn’t take a genius. And if his assistant or one of his associates is driving a Bentley, maybe we should apply to work for him.”
White looked chagrined.
“What?” he asked, noting this.
“I should have seen the Bentley and the plate.”
“I’ve got the advantage. Everything I see and hear, I remember, or pretty much everything.”
“Nice tool to have.”
“Yeah, but acquiring it was a real bitch.”
On the way to Chase’s neighborhood they stopped in at Ricardos. It was the place where Chase had told Decker that Langley had gone to get some gin the night of the murders, Decker told White.
A check of the receipts showed that Langley’s credit card had been used at five minutes past midnight to buy a bottle of gin. The man on duty had not been working during that time, so he couldn’t identify the picture of Langley that Decker showed him. Decker texted the picture to the clerk who had been on duty along with a message for the man to provide an answer on the ID.
They next spoke with three of Chase’s neighbors. One of them remembered the Bentley being there, but she couldn’t swear it was that night. The other two had not seen Chase or Langley that night, at least they didn’t think so. No one saw the Aston Martin, but Chase also had a garage where it could have been parked.
“Dead end,” said White as they walked back to their car.
“But at least it doesn’t conclusively rule out Langley as being the killer.”
“Well, if we can’t shake Chase’s story it sort of does.”
“We can pull the traffic camera records like you suggested.”
“If he used the Bentley. He might have another vehicle or he could have cabbed it or done a rideshare.”
“Or taken Chase’s car. We’ll have to check all angles.”
“You’re starting to think this guy is good for Cummins’s murder, aren’t you?”
He glanced at her. “I don’t know, Freddie. That’s why we do the dance.”
“But if so, Chase must be in on it.”
“You’d think, wouldn’t you?”
“But you don’t?”
“I’m not sure that lady would take that kind of risk for anyone. She strikes me as being very much into self-preservation.”
“But if she loves the guy? Love can mess you up. Makes you do stuff you wouldn’t have ever contemplated.”
Decker thought of Mary Lancaster taking her own life, because she had briefly forgotten her beloved daughter. “Yes, it can.”
Chapter 62
THEY LATER HAD SOME DINNER at the hotel and it was well past dark when Decker steered the car back to Cummins’s house. They parked in front and got out. Doris Kline’s house was still dark and there was no sign of her car.
White said, “You want to talk to Trevor Perlman?”
“I’m not sure what else he could tell us that his wife couldn’t. Let’s go through Cummins’s house again. Something might pop.”
He unlocked the police lock on the front door and they went inside.
Decker immediately held up his hand and looked around.
White had heard it, too. Someone was inside the house.
They both pulled their weapons. Decker pointed up the stairs, where the noise seemed to be coming from.
They slowly made their way up, stopping at each riser to listen. When they reached the second-floor landing, Decker eased his head around the wall.
He whispered to White, “There’s a light on in Cummins’s bedroom.”
She nodded.
As they edged down the hall the noises became clearer.
Decker glanced in confusion at White.
It sounded like someone sobbing.
They reached the doorway leading into the bedroom, Decker on the right, White on the left. The door was partially closed.
Decker held up three fingers, then lowered them one by one. With the drop of the final finger, he kicked open the door and they surged inside, their guns arcing in front of them.
And then coming to hold on the man sitting on the bed.
Barry Davidson was the source of the sobs.
They did not lower their pistols, because Davidson also had a gun in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.
He looked up at them in bewilderment.
“What th-the f-fuck are you doing h-here?”
“Mr. Davidson,” said Decker, “we need you to put that gun down, right now.”
Davidson glanced at the gun, his expression one as though he were seeing the weapon for the first time and wondering how it had gotten in his hand.
“I-it’s m-my gun. B-bought and p-paid for.”
“I’m sure, but guns and liquor don’t really mix,” said White.
“It’s my g-gun.”
“Put it down,” said Decker.
“O-only had one l-little d-drink.”
“I think it was more than one. But let’s talk about it. After you put the gun down.”
“This is m-my h-house. Can b-be here if…if I want t-to.”
“Let’s talk about it, downstairs. After you put the gun down.”
Instead Davidson lifted the gun and placed the muzzle next to his cheek.
“You don’t want to do that, Barry,” warned Decker, the imagined images of Mary Lancaster in her final moments lurching back into his head.
“J-Julia’s gone. G-gone. G-got nothing l-left. Wh-what’s it m-matter? You tell me.”
His finger edged closer to the trigger.
Decker said, “You have Tyler, you have your son left. You going to leave him all alone? Is that what a father does? Leave his teenager to pick up the pieces?”
Davidson looked up at Decker, maybe seeing him for the first time.
“T-Tyler deserves b-better than me.”
“But you’re all he has left. So give me the gun and we can talk about it.”
Davidson didn’t move the gun, but his finger did slip away from the trigger. He shook his head stubbornly. “Y-you think I k-killed her.”
“We never said that.”
“I know you do!” shouted Davidson. “D-don’t lie to me.”
“We’re just doing our job, investigating lots of things and people.”
“Wh-who else then? Huh? You’re lying. Nobody else. Nobody else.” He dipped his head.
“There’s Dennis Langley. You know about him, right?”
Davidson looked up once more. “L-Langley?”
“You met him, right? At the French bistro. You were there for Tyler’s birthday.”
Davidson slowly nodded. “Why him?”
“He was dating Julia.”
Davidson smiled. “H-he’s a shitty golfer. S-seen him play. Swings his club l-like a f-fucking a-axe.”
“I bet. Let’s go downstairs now and we can fill you in on our investigation.”
“Dad!”
They turned to see Tyler standing there drenched in sweat.
“T-Tyler?”
“Dad, what are you doing with that gun?”
“M-my gun.”
Tyler stepped forward. “Come on, Dad. Let’s go home. Where are your keys? I’ll drive you back. Come on. It’s late.”
He took the gun from him, and helped his father off the bed.
“Let’s go.”
White scooted forward and secured the gun.
As they half-carried Davidson down the stairs, Decker said, “How did you know he was here, Tyler?”
“I was riding my bike and saw his car parked on the side of the road about five hundred feet from the entrance. I figured he was here. He’d just walked around through the golf course side to avoid the gate.”
“Why wouldn’t he just drive through the gate?”
“I think his electronic pass was expired, or something,” Tyler replied, not looking at Decker.
“Expired?”
“Or something, look, I’m not really sure.”
The two of them got Davidson out to the rental car and loaded him in, as White got into the driver’s seat.
