Part 21 (2/2)
She sounds irritated, Dru thought. Maybe I did catch her in the shower.
The recorded message stopped. ”Mrs. Williams, this is Dru Perry of the Star-Ledger. I do hope I'm not calling too early.”
”Oh, not at all, Ms. Perry. I've been on the treadmill for an hour, and was stepping out of the shower when the phone rang.”
The thought of Marcella Williams with a towel wrapped around her and dripping on her carpet made Dru feel good about the timing of her call. ”I write a feature called 'The Story Behind the Story' for the Sunday edition of the Star-Ledger,” she explained.
”I know that feature. I always look forward to reading it,” Marcella interrupted.
”I'm preparing one on Liza Barton, and I know you knew the family intimately. I wonder if I could come and interview you about the Bartons and, of course, Liza particularly.”
”I'd be delighted to be interviewed by a fine writer like you.”
”Do you happen to have any pictures of the Bartons?”
”Yes, of course, I do. We were great friends, you know. And when Audrey married Ted, the reception was in the garden of her home. I took a slew of pictures of all of them, but I have to warn you, there isn't a single one where you'll see Liza smiling.”
This is my lucky day, Dru thought. ”Would eleven o'clock be convenient for you?”
”Perfect. I do have a lunch date at 12:30.”
”An hour will be more than enough. And Mrs. Williams...”
”Oh, please, call me Marcella, Dru.”
”How nice. Marcella, will you just think and try to remember if Audrey or Will Barton or Ted Cartwright had a friend named Zach.”
”Oh, I know who Zach is. He's the riding instructor Will Barton had at Was.h.i.+ngton Valley stables. That last day, the day he died, Will rode out ahead of him and got on the wrong trail.
That's why he had that fatal accident. Dru, I'm standing here dripping. I'll see you at eleven.”
Dru heard the click of the phone, but stood for a long minute before the mechanical voice reminded her to either make another call or hang up. The fatal accident, she thought. Zach was Will Barton's riding teacher. Was it Zach's fault that Will Barton died? Had he been careless to let Barton ride off without him?
A final possibility occurred to Dru as she started down the stairs. Suppose Barton's death was not an accident and, if it wasn't, when did Liza learn the truth about it?
CHAPTER 58.
At one o'clock, Ted Cartwright rounded the corner of the Was.h.i.+ngton Valley Club House and headed to the stable. ”Is Zach around?” he asked Manny Pagan, one of the grooms. Manny was brus.h.i.+ng a skittish mare that had been given a too-strenuous workout by its insensitive owner.
”Easy, easy, girl,” he was muttering soothingly.
”Are you deaf? I asked if Zach is around?” Cartwright shouted. An annoyed Manny was about to snap, ”Find him yourself,” but when he looked up, he realized that Cartwright, whom he knew by sight, was trembling with fury. Instead, he said, ”I'm pretty sure he's eating his lunch at the picnic table over there,” and pointed to a grove of trees about a hundred yards away.
Ted Cartwright covered the ground with rapid strides in seconds. Zach was eating the second half of a baloney sandwich when he arrived. Ted sat down opposite him. ”Who the h.e.l.l do you think you are?” he asked, his voice now a menacing whisper.
Zach took another bite of the sandwich and a swig of soda before he replied. ”Now that's no way for a friend to talk to a friend,” he said mildly.
”What makes you think you can go over to my town houses and tell my sales rep that I am giving you the model unit?”
”Did she tell you that I called, and that I'm planning to move in over the weekend?” Zach asked. ”I tell you, Ted, that place where I'm living has turned out to be sheer h.e.l.l. The landlady's kids are having parties every night, playing the drums till I think my ears are gonna bust, and here you have that nice place in the middle of all those other nice places, and I just know you want me to have it.”
”I'll call the police if you try to set one foot inside it.”
”Now why do I think that won't happen?” Zach asked, as he looked pensively past Cartwright.
”Zach, you've been bleeding me for over twenty years now. You've got to stop or you won't be around to bleed me any more.”
”Ted, that const.i.tutes a threat, and I'm sure you don't mean it. Maybe I should be going to the police. The way I look at it, I've been keeping you out of prison for all these years. Of course, if I'd spoken up back then, you'd probably have served your time by now and would be starting all over-without your road and bridge construction company and your town-house developments and your business complexes and your string of gyms. You could be giving speeches to school kids as part of the Scared Straight program.”
”There is also a penalty for blackmail.” Cartwright spat out the words.
”Ted, that town house is a drop in the bucket to you, but it would be a comfort to me. These old bones are developing aches and pains. Much as I love taking care of my horses, they're a lot of work. And then there's the matter of my conscience. Suppose I were to wander down to the Mendham police station and say that I knew about an accident that wasn't an accident at all, and tell them that I have proof, but before I say another word, I'll have to be guaranteed immunity from prosecution. I think I mentioned this before.”
Ted Cartwright stood up. The veins in his temples were bulging. His hands were gripping the edge of the picnic table as if that was the only way he could keep them from flailing at the man he was facing. ”Be careful, Zach. Be very careful.” His words were clipped, and sharp as a dagger.
”I am being careful,” Zach a.s.sured him cheerfully. ”That's why, if anything happens to me, the proof of what I'm saying will be found immediately. Well, gotta get back. I have a nice lady coming in for a riding lesson. She lives in your old house-you know, the one where you were shot? She's kind of intriguing. Claims she had a ride on a pony only once in a while, but she's fibbing. She's a pretty good horsewoman. And what's more, for some reason, she's real interested in that accident you and I know about.”
”Have you been talking to her about it?”
”Oh, sure. Everything but the good stuff. Think it over, Ted. Maybe you'll even want your sales rep, Amy, to have the refrigerator stocked for me when I move in on Sat.u.r.day. That would be a nice welcoming gesture, don't you think?”
CHAPTER 59.
At two o'clock on Wednesday afternoon, Paul Walsh, Angelo Ortiz, and Mort Sh.e.l.ley gathered in Jeff MacKingsley's office to review their findings in what the media was now calling the ”Little Lizzie Homicides.” They had all brought paper bags with sandwiches and coffee or a soft drink.
At Jeff's request, Ortiz started with his report. He gave them a quick rundown of his interview with Lena Santini, Charley Hatch's ex-wife, and what she had told him about Robin Carpenter's relations.h.i.+p with Charley.
”You mean Carpenter's story yesterday was a bold-faced lie?” Jeff asked. ”How stupid does she think we are?”
”I saw Carpenter this morning,” Mort Sh.e.l.ley said. ”She sticks by her statement that she hasn't spoken to Charley in three months. She explained away the so-called birthday date by saying it was his idea and she left a message for him that it wouldn't happen. She absolutely denies being in Patsy's that night.”
”Let's get pictures of Robin Carpenter and Charley Hatch and show them to the maitre d', the bartender, and all the waiters at Patsy's,” Jeff said. ”I think we have enough to get a judge to let us access her phone records. We'll subpoena her credit card charges, and her E-ZPa.s.s statement. We've already got the judge's order to get Charley Hatch's phone records. We should be receiving them later today. We'd better take a look at his credit cards and E-ZPa.s.s as well. Either Carpenter or the ex-wife is lying. Let's find out which it is.”
”I don't see Lena Santini as a liar,” Ortiz objected. ”She was quoting what Charley told her about Robin Carpenter. By the way, she even asked if she could put a couple of those carved figures of his in the coffin. I told her we couldn't release them.”
”Too bad she didn't ask for that skull and crossbones Charley carved in the Nolans' front door,”
Mort Sh.e.l.ley observed dryly. ”That was good craftsmans.h.i.+p. I was surprised to see that it was still there yesterday.”
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