Part 25 (1/2)
He gave a grudging nod. ”An heiress. Thirty-three years ago. Cold case. Ice cold.”
”Did you get an ID back on the bones from the FBI lab yet?” I asked.
Werner crossed his arms and shook his head in the negative.
”Tonight Lolique admitted to us that she gave me Isobel's old clothes for my shop. I say Isobel because Gwendolyn didn't like her first name so she used her middle name.”
Werner grabbed a notebook. ”A hot lead for a cold case.”
”See, wasn't this better than locking us up?”
”I'm reserving judgment.”
”So the bones might be Isobel's, because they were wrapped in a quilt she'd taken to a fair. Her rings were in the quilt, so maybe she slipped them in a pocket while locked in a trunk, hence the tire tracks. Now, the bones left in my building were clean.”
Werner's jaw dropped for half a beat. ”How do you know they were clean?”
”Simple deduction, my dear Watson. No body grunge on the quilt.”
Werner's head came up before he went back to his notes. ”What happened to her between the trunk and the body drawer?” he asked.
”Hey, you have to throw something into the pot,” I said as our food arrived.
Before I opened containers, he grabbed a beer and swigged it from the bottle. ”Her bones would have been clean if left unburied,” he muttered. ”It takes maybe three to five years in the open air,” Werner said, ”for them to get . . . clean.”
I was glad he didn't give us details for a visual. I watch Bones. I know the drill. Yuck. ”Did anybody ever demand a ransom?” I asked.
”McDowell said no.”
I tasted a forkful of enchilada. ”Oh, this is o.r.g.a.s.mic.”
Werner's elbow slipped off the desk so he ended up juggling his fork like a hot potato while I caught his beer bottle before it tipped.
Eve and I drank our beer the way he did. Good and cold. ”So, motive: greed, envy, l.u.s.t? Or Isobel p.i.s.sed someone off, got in their way . . .”
Werner chewed thoughtfully. ”Her body was exposed to the elements but out of sight. She could have been left-”
”In the bottom of a well,” Eve said, taking the heat away from my vision.
”In a heavily wooded area,” Werner added.
I nodded. ”In a cave or a quarry?”
”So if it was so well hidden, why move it to Mad's place?” Eve asked.
”Construction?” Werner and I hypothesized in sync.
”Nearly the same reason the bones were moved this second time, because I was moving in.”
”I'd like to know,” Eve said, ”if Suzanne and Tunney are off the hook for Sampson's death.”
”Suzanne's done a runner,” Werner said, ”but we know where she is. They're barely suspects now that I verified Sampson's status. Mad, I owe you an apology for that night.”
”Accepted.” I waved my bottle his way. ”You have a job to do. Just, please, try not to do it at another Cutler family party in future. What about McDowell?”
Eve waved her fork. ”Oh, oh. We heard Goodwin say tonight that he thinks McDowell manipulated Isobel's father, also Goodwin's uncle, into leaving McDowell the dealers.h.i.+p.”
More notes. ”I'll look into it.”
”And Mad and I think McDowell killed Isobel.”
”Guesswork,” Werner said.
I tilted my head. ”We know McDowell can't be trusted. The question is whether he wanted the dealers.h.i.+p enough to kill for it. Isobel would have inherited if she hadn't died. She would have become her husband's boss. Maybe she was planning to divorce him.”
For half a beat, we sat back to digest the information and sip our beer.
One six-pack down, one to go, and I was starting to feel it.
”Okay, Detective,” I said sitting forward. ”Chew on this. Eve and I saw Gary Goodwin and Suzanne Sampson kissing, outside at her place.”
”From a boat,” Eve said. ”No entering involved.”
Werner grinned. ”Suzanne Sampson divorced both Gary Goodwin and Broderick Sampson. The gossips decided she was Sampson's sister, and Suzanne didn't bother to correct the misconception. She wasn't faithful to either husband and she has the occasional fling with both, not necessarily at the same time. Lolique is Suzanne's daughter by Sampson.”
”Ah, so they both started hanging around when they thought Sampson was going to make a fortune. Lolique still thinks her father was rich, by the way.” I told Werner what a mean-spirited st.i.tch Lolique was tonight.
”Then the two murders are connected,” Eve added.
I inhaled my beer and coughed a minute. ”Connected by Vinney!”
”Vincent Carnevale,” Werner said. ”Another of Goodwin's stepchildren.”
”You've been doing your homework,” I said.
”I should hope so.”
”So Lolique and Vinney are step-siblings?” I moved my jalapenos to the side of my plate.
Werner speared one for himself. ”Yup. Same mother, different fathers.”
”To me, Vinney had less motive than any of them,” Eve said, ”Yet I practically saw him steal the bones.”
”Mad?” Werner asked, ”how did you know how long Isobel had been dead?”
”Easy. I have some of her clothes. She followed fas.h.i.+on trends and liked vintage, but I have nothing newer in style than the mid-eighties.”