Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set (63 page)

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Authors: Bob Moats

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - Senior Sleuth

BOOK: Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set
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“Let the inquisition begin,” I said.

 

Through the speakers, Lincoln’s voice came out clearly, “Mr. Doan, you have been read your rights, correct?”

 

Doan sat quietly, and then nodded his head. Lincoln yelled, “Come on, Doan, let’s talk up so we can hear you!” and pounded on the table. Doan jumped.

 

Gregory put a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder and said, “Benny, calm down.”

 

Oh, I could see who the good cop was now. I was going to love this show.

 

Lincoln sat back fuming, staring down Doan. Gregory spoke now. “Mr. Doan, we have the machete used in the murder of Noreen Weston, aka Noreen Black. Your prints were all over the weapon, and bloodstains match Noreen. We got you. We just want to know why. Come on, Doan, talk to us.”

 

Doan sat silent. Lincoln jumped up and pounded on the table with both hands. “Talk, Doan or I swear, you will regret it!” He snarled and put his face up to Doan. He would scare me in that position. Doan flinched and looked with terror at Lincoln.

 

“I didn’t do it! I was at a party with the Mayor of Warren that night,” he cried.

 

Lincoln growled, “We did a check on that, Doan. Everyone says you were missing for about an hour and a half that night. People were looking for you, but couldn’t find you. Some people say you came back in a different suit. What, you got blood on the first one and had to change? Huh, Doan?”

 

Lincoln was spitting mad. Gregory pulled him back to his seat and looked at Doan. “Come on, talk to us, Doan. It looks bad for you.”

 

“I didn’t do it,” he repeated.

 

Gregory leaned in. “Doan, we have the machete that killed Noreen Weston. It has her blood on it. We have your prints all over the thing, only yours, explain that to me if you didn’t do it.”

 

“Someone is framing me,” he said quietly.

 

Lincoln exploded and stomped around the room. “Framing you! Framing you! That’s a weak excuse, Doan.” Lincoln picked up a chair and threw it against a wall.

 

Doan covered his head and started crying. He put his head on the table and cried like a baby. Lincoln stopped and just stared at Doan. He looked at Gregory and sat. They both were silent as Doan blubbered.

 

Lincoln slapped his hand on the table startling Doan upright. His eyes were bloodshot now and tears streamed down his cheeks. Gregory moved forward and said, “Why, Doan, why would someone want to frame you? For your money, fame? None of that will do any good if you’re convicted of murder. No one would benefit from framing you.”

 

“Revenge,” Doan said. “They wanted to get revenge on me by framing me.”

 

“OK, good choice, now who wanted revenge on you? An employee, a competitor…your wife?”

 

Doan looked incensed when Gregory suggested his wife. He came up out of the chair and reached out for Gregory with both hands, but Lincoln bashed him back. Doan went slamming into the wall, and Gregory went around to him and held him down, Doan still flailing his arms around. They both had to subdue him.

 

I thought Gregory had hit a sore spot on that one.

 

*

 

 

Chapter Thirty

 

They gathered Doan up and took him out of interrogation. I walked out of observation to see them cuff him and hand Doan over to a couple uniformed cops who took him back to his cell. Gregory walked by me with a big grin, took a pretend shot at me with his finger and winked. Lincoln came up and smiled. I followed him to his squad room where he stopped to get some coffee out of the coffee maker.

 

“I love the routine you guys pulled. It was so professional, so realistic.” I grinned.

 

“I wanted to play the good cop, but everyone knows I do better as the bad cop.” He took me to his cubbyhole and said they were going to have Doan arraigned on murder one that afternoon. He sat, and I stood by the desk. I said I was glad this all worked out.

 

“Where are you going to spend your retirement now that this is over?” I asked.

 

“The wife and I have a house up in Houghton Lake, had it for years as a retirement home. We may move there to get away from this crappy town.”

 

I said, “Well, I wish you all the best. Despite your rep, I think you’re the good guy.” I shook his hand and went out of his office to my car. I thought better in my car, so I sat there for a minute, going over what had happened, then drove out.

 

I got to my office, stood just outside the door looking at the lobby chairs and sighed. I was already missing the anticipation of some sexy female coming through. Oh, well. I entered my office and put the metal detector from my car into the ample closet. I went and sat at my desk, feeling a little drained. I guess it was the crash I would feel when cases were closed. Ralph was going to trial tomorrow, and Doan would follow shortly after. My job was finished.

 

Still, I thought about Doan and why would he keep denying killing Noreen when the evidence was so stacked up. They had his fingerprints on the machete and her blood on the thing. What good would it do to keep saying he didn’t do it? Could someone be framing him? Why? What did he do to deserve that? Why did Gregory’s mention of his wife send him off the edge like that? Who was the dark figure in the garden burying the machete, and now that I thought about it, why bury it back there when a dumpster would do just as good for disposal? Could someone be setting him up and left the machete there to be found? Damn, I was starting to wonder if Doan really was the murderer. Lincoln wouldn’t be happy if he wasn’t the killer and we got the wrong person. I had to stop thinking like that. They got Doan hands down, but my mind just kept running through possibilities. I needed something to take my mind off the subject.

 

I putzed around the office for about an hour waiting for a new case to pop in my door, feeling a bit lonely. I called Trapper. I didn’t want to bother him, but I wanted to tell him about the interrogation. Trapper was out on a call, so I said I’d call back.

 

I opened my desk drawer and realized I still had my two checks from Elma and Benson. I signed the backs, drove over to my bank and deposited them, keeping out a little pocket money. I had enough from the two cases to live nicely for a month, but didn’t want to blow it too fast. I went to get a bite to eat and decided to go with my second favorite food, Burger King. I was sitting in the restaurant eating when my cell phone rang. It was Trapper. He said he heard I called and asked how the interrogation with Doan went. I filled him in on the details. I could tell he was loving every word. He really didn’t like Doan. I said I might go watch the trial of Ralph tomorrow since I had nothing better to do now. He said he would like to come but he was on a new homicide case that would keep him busy for a while, but he would keep in contact. He hung up, and I finished my lunch, went back to my office, and took a nap on the couch I put there for just such events as naps. It’s a bitch getting old.

 

Buck called, awakening me from my dream of hookers dancing around my office. He asked what I was doing. I said nothing much, and he said they called for Elma to come in to testify today. I said I thought the trial didn’t start till tomorrow, but he said they moved it up a day. I said I’d come out to get him, and we could pick up Elma on the way. Buck said he would call Elma to let her know we were on the way. Just as I was going out, I found a man standing at my door, startling me. He asked if I was Jim Richards. I said I was, hoping for a client. He handed me a paper and said I was summoned to court, and he left. I looked at the paper. It was for Ralph’s trial. I was called in as a witness. I was surprised that they would do something on such short notice, but since I was going there anyway, it didn’t matter.

 

I drove out and got Buck. He insisted on driving his van. We went to get Elma and headed to Pontiac. On the way I called Benson, and he explained that the court docket was so bogged down, since the jury was already selected that morning, the judge decided to go to trial that afternoon. I told him we were almost there, and he said he would meet us at the front door to the courthouse to get us in without going through the line to be searched. He asked if I had my gun, and I said I did. He asked if I could leave it in the car. I agreed.

 

We got there, and after we parked Benson met us and took us through to the court room. The judge was just entering, and we did the little up and down for him. Ralph was already at the defendant’s table and looking sullen. The trial started, and we endured the opening remarks which were basically a waste of time since Ralph confessed and there were witnesses to his deed. The thing went on for about two hours, and I was called to explain my part. The video was played, and the pictures at the B&D club were shown. Elma was called and testified to her part in the murder. She held up and didn’t swear once when she referred to her soon to be ex-husband. Benson was called and testified that Ralph confessed to stabbing the Dominatrix and his two previous wives, both on my recording and in the police interrogation. A couple of other people were called in regard to the murder of his previous two wives, their testimony going to Ralph’s mental state. The whole thing ran so quickly, I thought it was a TV show—you know, solve the thing in under an hour, complete with commercials.

 

Both sides rested their cases, so the jury was given their instructions and taken away to deliberate their verdict. Buck, Elma, Benson and I went out to the lobby and sat talking small talk. About a half hour later the court bailiff came out to Benson and said the jury was back. Benson looked surprised, and we went in. The jury filed back in, the judge read the paper and handed it back to the bailiff. He handed it to the jury foreman, who was asked for their verdict. It was guilty! Murder one. I could see Elma breathe out with the verdict. Ralph was sent back to his cell for sentencing tomorrow morning at 9:30. We stood around outside the courthouse and talked about the trial for a while then we said our good-byes to Benson and went to Buck’s van. We dropped Elma off at her home and asked if she wanted to go to the sentencing tomorrow. She did.

 

Buck drove back to his place, and we sat in the backyard talking about the events of the last week and how it all went by so fast. We laughed at our adventures at the B&D club and the expression on Buck’s face when the Dom started in on Ralph. I said I wished I had taken a picture of him for my scrapbook. He said he wasn’t very photogenic and probably would have broken the camera. We talked about the trial and how well Elma held up. Buck asked what I was going to do now that my cases were finished. I said I was going to go into my office and play a bunch of Sudoku games on my Palm until a new case came up. He said to let him know if I needed his help, especially if it involved sex clubs. I said that I would. He reminded me that Penny and I promised to take him to a strip club. I said we would be sure to do that. I left him, went back to my office and back to the couch to continue that dream of the dancing girls.

 

*

 

Chapter Thirty-one

 

 

I didn’t mind my phone ringing. It was usually important, but when it interrupted my dreams of sexy women, it was just annoying. I answered after checking the caller I.D. It said
private
. I said hello. It was Lincoln. He asked me to come over to the precinct, there was a small problem. I got myself together, went there and into the squad room where Lincoln was. He and Gregory were standing and talking. They saw me, and I went to them.

 

“Jim, you saw a person bury the weapon that night, right?” Gregory asked.

 

“Yeah, it was too dark to see who it was,” I replied.

 

“Could you tell from the person’s body type or movements if it was a male or possibly a female?”

 

I thought for a moment. I looked at them and said, “Well, it didn’t move like a 50-some year old man. The person did move a little smoother and with a form that might have been a woman. Still, it was really hard to tell. But it could have been a woman. Why?”

 

“Mrs. Doan came in an hour ago and claims she was the one who murdered Weston. We let her sit in interrogation to think about it.” Lincoln scowled. “We just wanted to get your take on the night visitor who buried the weapon.”

 

“After I left earlier, I was starting to wonder why would Doan sneak in and hide the thing on his property when he could have dumped it anywhere. I don’t think he had that much of an attachment to it,” I offered.

 

“Yeah, had me thinking, too,” Lincoln said.

 

Gregory looked at Lincoln and said, “You want to be the good guy this time?” Lincoln smiled and said he enjoyed being a prick. They headed to interrogation, saying I could watch.

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