No Place Like Home Part 27

she said. "And whether you appreciate it or not, I do know when something is really confidential."

"I wasn't aware there was a difference between 'confidential' and 'really confidential,'" Jeff said.

"Oh, there absolutely is," Anna a.s.sured him crisply. "Look, is that Mr. Paley heading this way?"

"Yes, it is," Jeff said. "And that's his lawyer behind him. Send them right in."

Henry Paley read a statement into the record that had obviously been prepared by his attorney.

He had been Georgette Grove's junior partner in the agency for more than twenty years. While he and Georgette had disagreed over the joint property they owned on Route 24, and about whether it was time for him to consider retirement, they had always been good friends. "It was personally very disappointing to me to realize that Georgette had gone through my desk and taken out the file of notes outlining my agreements with Ted Cartwright," he said, in a wooden voice.

Henry admitted that he had been at the Holland Road house several times more than he had indicated, but he insisted that it was only carelessness in keeping his daily reminder.

He went on to acknowledge that about a year ago he had been offered one hundred thousand dollars from Ted Cartwright if he was able to persuade Georgette to sell the land on Route 24 to make room for commercial development. He said she wasn't interested, so it never came to pa.s.s.

"There has been a question as to my whereabouts on or around the time of the demise of Charley Hatch, the landscaper," Henry read. "I left my office at one fifteen and went directly to the Mark Grannon Real Estate Agency. There I met Thomas Madison, who is Georgette Grove's cousin. Mr. Grannon had made an offer to buy our agency.

"As for the late Charley Hatch-I may have seen Mr. Hatch when I was showing properties where he was engaging in landscaping services. I do not remember ever exchanging a word with him.

"Referring to the most recent homicide that may have some connection to the Barton family, I never met the victim, Zach Willet, nor have I ever ridden a horse or taken riding lessons."

Looking pleased with himself, Henry folded his statement neatly and looked at Jeff. "I trust that covers the situation."

"Maybe," Jeff said pleasantly. "But I do have one question: Don't you think that Georgette Grove, knowing of your cozy relationship with Ted Cartwright, would have lived out her life holding onto the Route 24 property rather than go along with you and sell it commercially?

From what I hear about her, that's exactly what she would do."

"I object to that question," Paley's lawyer said heatedly.

"You were in the vicinity of Holland Road when Georgette was shot, Mr. Paley, and her death made it possible for you to get a better deal than Cartwright was offering. That will be all for today. Thank you for coming in to make your statement, Mr. Paley."

CHAPTER 75.

The heavy frame that had once surrounded a mirror and then became the repository of Zach Willet's 25th anniversary memorabilia had been placed on top of a wide desk in a vacant office just down the hall from Jeff MacKingsley.

Investigator Liz Reilly had only been in the prosecutor's office a few months, and was champing at the bit to be involved in a murder case. She had been instructed to review every card and note pasted on the frame and to look carefully for any photograph that might show a bullet lodged in a tree, or in a structure such as a fence or shed. The photo, or photos, might have been enlarged, she was told. There also might be riding trails shown in them, and perhaps a sign indicating danger in front of one of the trails. Investigators were also going through everything found in Willet's apartment, hoping to find an actual spent bullet and casing.

Liz had a feeling that something important could emerge from this hopelessly cluttered object.

She welcomed every chance she got to be at crime scenes because she loved the process of collecting evidence, and had arrived at the Zach Willet home shortly after the initial forensic team.

She was certain that the collage would be a perfect place to secrete a picture or any small object that might otherwise be easily discovered in a drawer or file.

The tape on the pictures and notes was cracked and dry, and easily separated from the corkboard that Zach had inserted for backing. Soon she had neat stacks of pictures around the frame. Liz got a kick out of reading the first several notes of congratulation: "Here's to another 25, Zach;" "Ride 'em cowboy;" "Happy trails to you." She quickly got into a routine of glancing at them as she removed them, one by one.

It seemed to be turning into a useless exercise. Liz continued until only the caricature itself remained in the frame. It had been drawn in crayon on heavy cardboard, and was tacked rather than taped to the corkboard. Might as well take this one off, too, Liz thought. When she removed it, she turned the caricature over; taped to the back was a sealed 5-by-8 envelope. Liz decided to have a witness when she opened it.

She went down the hall to the prosecutor's office. The door was open and Jeff MacKingsley was standing at the window, stretching.

"Mr. MacKingsley, can I show you something?"

"Sure, Liz, what is it?"

"This envelope was taped behind that caricature of Zach Willet."

Jeff looked from the envelope to Liz and back to the envelope. "If this is what I hope it is..." he said. Without finishing the sentence, he went to his desk and got a letter opener from the drawer. He slit the tape, opened the envelope and shook it. Two metal objects clanked onto his desk.

Jeff reached into the envelope and pulled out a handwritten letter and a half dozen photographs.

The first one was a close-up showing a bony hand pointing to a tree in which a bullet was clearly embedded. A newspaper was positioned below the hole to display the date-May 9th- and the year, which was the year Will Barton had died. A second picture, taken from the newspaper on that date, showed Ted Cartwright proudly displaying his pistol.

A two-page letter, neatly printed but filled with misspellings, and addressed to "Whoever it could concern," contained Zach's graphic yet oddly dignified description of how he had watched Will Barton die.

He described how Ted Cartwright, on his powerful horse, had charged the high-strung mare that the nervous and inexperienced Will Barton was riding. He related watching Ted's horse force the mare onto the dangerous trail. After she got close to the edge of the cliff, he saw Ted fire the shot that caused the panicking horse to bolt, sending both the horse and its doomed rider into the fatal plunge.

Jeff turned to Liz. "Good work. This is enormously important, and just might be the break we need."

Liz left Jeff's office, delighted with the prosecutor's reaction to the evidence she had found.

As Jeff stood alone, realizing that everything Celia had told him was true, he was interrupted again as Investigator Nan Newman rushed into his office. "Boss, you're not going to believe this. Rap Corrigan, the kid who found Zach Willet's body, came in to meet with me and give a statement. While he was there, Ted Cartwright came into the outer office with his attorney. Rap did a double-take when he saw Cartwright, and practically pulled me down the hall to talk to me.

"Jeff, Rap swears that Ted Cartwright, minus a dopey looking blond wig, is one of the two so-called moving men he let into Zach Willet's apartment yesterday."

CHAPTER 76.

Ted Cartwright was dressed in an impeccably tailored dark blue suit, a light blue shirt with French cuffs, and a red and blue tie. With his crown of white hair, piercing blue eyes, and imposing carriage, he was every inch the powerful executive as he strode ahead of his lawyer into Jeff's office.

Seated behind his desk, Jeff calmly observed the arrival and deliberately waited until Cartwright and his lawyer were standing in front of him before he got up. He did not offer to shake the hand of either man, but indicated the chairs that were pulled close to the desk.

As witnesses to this meeting, Jeff had invited Detectives Angelo Ortiz and Paul Walsh, who were already seated in chairs to the side of the prosecutor. The court reporter was in place, her face expressionless as always. It had been said of Louise Bentley that even if she had recorded the confession of Jack the Ripper, she would not have allowed a single muscle of her face to show reaction.

Cartwright's attorney introduced himself. "Prosecutor MacKingsley, I am Louis Buch, and I am counsel to Mr. Theodore Cartwright. I wish to state for the record that my client is extremely distressed by the death of Zach Willet, and has, in response to the request of your office, appeared here today voluntarily and with the strong desire to a.s.sist you in any way in your investigation of Mr. Willet's death."

His face impa.s.sive, Jeff MacKingsley looked at Ted. "How long have you known Zach Willet, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Oh, I think about twenty years," Ted answered.

"Think again, Mr. Cartwright. Isn't it well over thirty years?"

"Twenty, thirty." Cartwright shrugged. "A very long time, whichever it is, don't you agree?"

"Would you say you were friends?"

Ted hesitated. "It depends on how you define friendship. I knew Zach. I liked him. I love horses and he was a natural with them. I admired his skill at handling them. On the other hand, it wouldn't occur to me to invite him to my home for dinner, or really socialize with him in any way."

"Then you don't count having a drink with him at the bar at Sammy's as socializing with him?"

"Of course, if I b.u.mped into him at a bar, I would have a drink with him, Mr. MacKingsley."

"I see. When was the last time you spoke with him?"

"Yesterday afternoon, around three o'clock."

"And what was the reason for the call?"

"We had a good laugh over the joke he pulled on me."

"What was that joke, Mr. Cartwright?"

"A few days ago Zach went over to my town house development in Madison and told my sales rep that I was giving him the model unit. We had a bet on the YankeeRed Sox game, and he had kidded me that if the Red Sox won by more than ten runs, I would have to give him a unit."

"That's not what he told your sales rep," Jeff said. "He told her that he had saved your life."

"He was joking."

"When was the last time you saw Zach?"

"Yesterday, around noon."

"Where did you see him?"

"At the Washington Valley stables."

"Did you have a quarrel with him?"

"I blew off a little steam. Because of his joke, we almost lost a sale of that town house. My rep took him seriously and told a couple who were interested in it that it was no longer available. I simply wanted to tell Zach that his joke went too far. But later that couple did come back and made an offer on the unit, so I called Zach up at three o'clock and apologized."

"That's very odd, Mr. Cartwright," Jeff said, "because a witness heard Zach tell you that he didn't need the money the town house was worth because he had a better offer. Do you remember him saying that?"

"That wasn't the conversation we had," Ted said mildly. "You're mistaken, Mr. MacKingsley, as is your witness."

"I don't think so. Mr. Cartwright, did you ever promise Henry Paley one hundred thousand dollars if he could persuade Georgette Grove to sell the property Georgette and Henry jointly owned on Route 24?"

"I had a business arrangement with Henry Paley."

"Georgette was pretty much in your way, wasn't she, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Georgette had her way of doing things. I have mine."

"Where were you on the morning of Wednesday, September 4th at about ten A.M.?"

"I was out for an early morning ride on my horse."

"Weren't you on a trail that connects directly to the private trail in the woods behind the Holland Road house where Georgette died?"

"I do not ride on private trails."

"Mr. Cartwright, did you know Will Barton?"

"Yes, I did. He was the first husband of my late wife, Audrey."

"You were separated from your wife at the time of her death?"

"The evening of her death she had called me to discuss a reconciliation. We were very much in love. Her daughter, Liza, hated me because she didn't want anyone to replace her father, and she hated her mother for loving me."

"Why did you and your wife separate, Mr. Cartwright?"

"The strain of Liza's antagonism became too much for Audrey. We only planned the separation to be temporary, until she could get psychological help for her troubled daughter."

"You didn't separate because, when you were drunk one night, you confessed to Audrey Barton that you had killed her first husband?"

"Don't answer that, Ted," Louis Buch ordered. He looked at Jeff and angrily stated, "I thought we came here to talk about Zach Willet. I was never informed of other matters."

"It's all right, Lou. No problem. I'll answer their questions."

"Mr. Cartwright," Jeff said, "Audrey Barton was terrified of you. Her mistake was that she didn't go to the police. She was horrified at what it would do to her daughter to learn that you had killed her father so that Audrey could be free to marry you. But you were afraid, weren't you? You were afraid that Audrey would have the courage to go to the police one day. There was always some question about the gunshot that was heard at the time Will Barton's horse went over the cliff with him."

"This is ridiculous," Cartwright snapped.

"No, it's not. Zach Willet witnessed what you did to Will Barton. We found some very interesting evidence in Zach's apartment-a statement he had written about what he saw, plus he took a picture of your bullet where it hit a tree near the trail. He described what you did to Barton. He retrieved that bullet, and its casing, and kept them all these years. Let me read his statement to you."

Jeff picked up Zach Willet's letter and read it with deliberate emphasis on the sentences describing Ted charging his horse into Will Barton's mare.

"That is a piece of fiction and inadmissible in court," Louis Buch snapped.

"Zach's murder isn't a piece of fiction," Jeff snapped. "He was bleeding you for twenty-seven years and finally got so c.o.c.ksure of himself when he realized you killed Georgette Grove that he decided he ought to be taken care of on a higher scale."

"I did not kill Georgette Grove or Zach Willet," Cartwright said emphatically.

"Were you in Zach Willet's apartment yesterday?"

"No, I was not."

Jeff looked past him. "Angelo, will you ask Rap to come in?"

As they waited, Jeff said, "Mr. Cartwright, as you can see, I have here the evidence you were searching for in Zach's apartment, the bullet and casing from the gun that you fired to terrify Will Barton's horse, and the pictures that show where and when it happened. You'd just won a prize with that gun, hadn't you? Later you donated it to the permanent collection of firearms at a Washington museum, didn't you? You couldn't quite bear to throw it out, but you didn't want it in your home because you knew Zach had retrieved the bullet that sent Will Barton to his death. I am subpoenaing that gun from the museum so that we can compare the bullet and casing to it. We should be able to determine definitively if that bullet and casing were fired from that gun." Jeff looked up. "Oh, here's Zach's landlady's son."