Death on a Silver Platter (23 page)

“Warm milk. It helps put me to sleep.”

After what he’d done in his life, Elaine was amazed that he could sleep at all. But milk? It was beyond absurd. “There was no mention of a dirty pan, or even a dirty mug. How did you heat it? What did you drink it from?”

“I already told this to the police. I heated the milk in a mug in the microwave. And I washed the mug and put it away when I was done. I always leave a kitchen neat whenever I make myself something.”

That she could believe.

Zander pulled his head into his shoulders, like a turtle trying to suck its head back into its shell. “Why doesn’t anybody think it was odd that Danny went in to talk to your mother that night? It was late—midnight, maybe. What was he doing in her room at that hour?”

“They’d had a fight the day before. He felt he’d left some important things unsaid.”

“Okay, okay. Maybe it was that simple. But there’s still Alex. He came up to the pool for a late swim.”

“But he never went into the house.”

“That’s what he
says
. But did you ever think that maybe
he
lied?”

There was a sudden knock on the door.

“Police,” said a deep male voice. “Open up.”

Elaine was off the couch in a flash. Still holding the gun on Zander, she found the key for the handcuffs and unlocked them. “Answer it,” she said, not that it was necessary. Zander was already flying across the room.

“Lord in heaven, I’m so glad you’re here. That woman was trying to kill me.” He pointed at Elaine.

After setting the safety, Elaine dropped the gun and the cuffs out a narrow window behind the chair, a window only wide enough to get her arm through. This high up, there wasn’t any need for screens. Below them was the back side of the building, mainly Dumpsters, a loading dock, and space for trucks to pull in. She hoped it landed somewhere safe.

“Are you Galen Zander?” asked one of two police officers.

“Didn’t you hear me?” said Zander, rubbing his wrists. “That woman over there threatened my life!”

Elaine shook her head, spreading her arms and raising her palms.

“Your name?” asked the officer.

“Elaine Veelund. I’m Millie Veelund’s daughter. I came here to talk to Mr. Zander about my mother. He used to work for her. But after he let me in, I realized he was in this terribly agitated state.”

“She threatened to kill me!” sputtered Zander. “She has a gun.”

“Is that true?” asked the officer.

“No, of course not.” She held her arms wide and looked around. “You can check if you want.”

The office sized her up for a few seconds, then looked back at Zander. “Mr. Zander, I’m arresting you for the murder of Mildred Veelund. You have the right to remain silent.”

Thank God, thought Elaine. The marines had finally landed.

“I want my lawyer,” snapped Zander.

“You have the right to an attorney. Anything—”

“I won’t say a single word without my lawyer present.”

“I understand that, sir, but I have to read you your rights.”

“What happened to all your protestations of innocence?” said Elaine.

Zander shot her a withering look.

Innocent
and
Zander
didn’t even belong in the same sentence, thought Elaine.

“We’ll need you to leave, ma’am,” said the younger officer. “We have to secure this suite.”

“Of course,” she said.

The older of the two cops kept on with the Miranda rights as the younger officer cuffed Zander’s hands behind his back. As soon as the legalities were accomplished, Zander was ushered out the door.

Elaine followed, her thoughts now turning to Roman.
One down
, she whispered to herself.
And one to go
.

34

On the way past the reservation desk, Sophie was stopped by one of the staff. It was nearly six. She’d been away from the hotel most of the day—first shopping at Target with her mother, and then getting some newspaper work done at the
Times Register
Tower in downtown Minneapolis. She knew her father would be checking out the hotel today, making sure she hadn’t sent it into receivership while he was gone. He was upset when he’d found that there’d been an attempted murder in one of the apartments, though he couldn’t exactly blame Sophie for that. Still, while he was doing his inspection, she wanted to stay out of his way. But by the look on the reservationist’s face, she’d probably made the wrong decision.

“What is it?” asked Sophie, sensing worry in the woman’s expression.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Greenway . . . but it’s your dog.”

“Ethel?”

“We can’t find her. When one of the bellmen went to take her out for her afternoon walk, she wasn’t on her pillow in the lobby.”

“Did you check my apartment?”

“We did. She wasn’t there.”

“Maybe Bram came home and took her out.”

The woman slipped on her reading glasses. “No, he left you a note.” She picked it up and looked at it. “He said he’s taking his daughter to that blues festival down by the river tonight. He planned to leave straight from the station and wouldn’t be back here until late.”

Sophie was running out of options. “Maybe my dad took her. Or my mom.”

The woman shook her head. “We checked with them.”

Sophie rested a hand on her hip. “Well, she didn’t just
walk
out of here. She barely moves her eyes, let alone her body—unless someone drags her.”

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Greenway. We’ve looked everywhere. One of the bellmen said that, well, maybe she smelled the ribs roasting down by the river. That blues festival includes a huge rib fest this year, too. And it’s only three blocks away. If you step outside, your mouth starts to water.”

“Are you suggesting she just lurched her way out the door?”

“It’s possible. She’s not a big dog. And we’ve been insanely busy all day.”

Sophie couldn’t believe Ethel would just leave. She’d never done anything like that before. If you led her outside, she might walk over to a small patch of grass, if she could find one, and relieve herself. But then she’d just stand there, or find a comfortable piece of cement and lie down. Actually, she’d lie down anywhere, comfortable or not.
Unless
someone took her green tennis ball. Over the past year, Ethel had become fiercely protective of one particular ball. It was usually either inches from her nose, or in her mouth. When she slept, she curled around it. When she ate, it rested next to her dog dish. Sometimes she dropped it in the toilet. Bram loved that move. Sophie assumed she was trying to wash it. If someone had attempted to steal the ball, Ethel would undoubtedly have followed them. But nobody in their right mind would touch something covered in so much dog drool. It looked as if it had lived in a rain forest for several hundred years.

Instead of returning to her office, Sophie headed up to her apartment. Maybe Ethel was hiding under the dining room table or under the bed. She did things like that. Sophie had so much on her mind right now, she didn’t want to add Ethel to the list.

Entering her apartment, she checked everywhere. She looked out on the patio, thinking that Ethel might have gotten locked out. She checked every room, looked under the beds and every piece of furniture, but Ethel was nowhere to be found.

Hearing her cell phone ring, Sophie followed the sound. “There you are,” she said, picking it up off the side of the bathtub. She’d been looking for it for days. “Hello?” she said. “This is Sophie.”

The line clicked.

“Charming,” she said, stuffing the phone in the back pocket of her jeans.

As she returned to the living room, she noticed that the light was blinking on the caller ID box for her home line. Checking the name, she saw that Elaine had called, so she punched in her voice mail number to get the message.

“Sophie, hi. It’s Elaine. It’s about noon. Guess what? They just arrested Zander for my mother’s murder! Finally, some action. I talked to the detective on the case and he said they think he was responsible for both deaths, but that they feel like they’ve got a stronger case against him for Mom’s murder. And, actually, I talked to Zander this morning. I got him to admit that he
did
molest Tracy when she was a child—don’t ask me how. All I can say is, this lady has learned a few tricks in her old age. But Zander also told me a bunch of other stuff. I believe now that the child Tracy was carrying was Roman’s. I don’t know how it happened, or why, mainly because I can’t find him. I’ve called his office, his town house, Alex’s place, everywhere I can think of, but he’s not around. If you see him, not that you would, but if you do, will you call me? Between you and me, I think he’s the one who murdered Tracy. I’ll fill you in on all the details later. But I feel so stoked right now. I’ll put that bastard behind bars if it’s the last thing I do. Later, Soph.”

Sophie sat down on the couch, attempting to make sense of what Elaine had just told her. It didn’t surprise her that Zander had been arrested for Millie’s murder, but Roman? Sophie remembered that Tracy had worked for him for a couple of months last summer. Maybe they’d formed a friendship. Tracy tried to hide her body under big shirts and loose pants, but anybody with eyes—and hormones—could see that she was built. If Roman had been married once upon a time, maybe he was bisexual, not gay. But sleeping with his lover’s niece wasn’t exactly smart. Neither was fathering a child with her. Lord, if Alex found out, there would be hell to pay. Sophie couldn’t help but wonder where Mick fit into all of this. If Tracy had willingly slept with Roman, why did she go and marry Mick? Of course, there was always the possibility that if Roman was the father, he’d forced Tracy to have sex with him. God, thought Sophie. That poor girl. No matter what the truth really turned out to be, her life had been hellish. And Elaine was right. Roman’s involvement did answer a lot of questions—if it turned out to be true.

On her way out the door, Sophie grabbed a leash. She had to find Ethel before she could calm down and concentrate on anything else. She was in the elevator on her way down to the lobby when her cell phone rang again. Fishing it out of her back pocket, she said hello.

“Ah, hi,” said a young man’s voice. “I, ah, I think I found your dog.”

Sophie felt instantly relieved.

“Is she black? Kind of slow moving?” asked the guy.

“That’s her,” said Sophie.

“I got your number off the tag.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m down at the blues fest on the riverfront. You know where that is? It’s along Kellogg, right—”

“I know where it is,” said Sophie. How on earth had Ethel gotten herself down there? “Just give me a couple of minutes. I’m not far away.”

“Sure thing. I’m standing by the mini-doughnut booth across from a hotel. I don’t know the name of it.”

“I do. I’ll find you,” said Sophie. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you found my dog.”

“No problem.”

“It says ‘reward’ on her tag. How does a hundred dollars sound?”

“Great.”

“Don’t let her out of your sight. She means the world to me.”

“I won’t. See ya.” The line clicked.

Sophie was thrilled. A quick walk down to the river and one problem would be solved. As the elevator doors opened and she stepped off, she glanced over at the reception desk and saw long lines of people waiting to check in. She felt guilty charging off after Ethel when there was so much work to do here. That’s when an idea occurred to her. If Bram was at the blues fest, maybe he could go get her. That way, Sophie could stay and help out at the front desk.

She tapped #1 on the cell phone and hit the call button. Number one was programmed to call Bram’s cell. When she raised the phone to her ear, nothing happened. She looked down at the readout. No number had been dialed. “Screw that,” she said, punching in the numbers manually. Bram picked up right away.

“Baldric,” he said gruffly.

“Bram, it’s me.”

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Ethel got out.”

“Define ‘out.’ ”

“Out of the hotel. She was lost for a good portion of the afternoon.”

“You’re kidding.
Our
Ethel? Her ball roll out the door?”

“I don’t know,” said Sophie. “But she’s down at the blues fest. You’re there with Margie, right?”

Bram laughed. “That’s quite an image. Ethel at a blues fest. Yes, I’m here. Margie and Mick just pulled up in his new silver Maserati 3200.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It’s a car. An expensive Italian car. He’s already spending Tracy’s inheritance.”

Sophie found the idea nauseating. “I guess money corrupts everyone.”

“Guess so.”

“So, here’s the deal,” said Sophie. “Can you go over and pick Ethel up? Some guy’s got her. He called me on my cell phone after getting the number off the collar.” She explained where he was waiting. “So . . . can you be a prince and go get her?”

“Ah, Soph. This is the worst possible timing.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been waiting in a line to get some Lincoln Dobbs ribs for the last half hour. There’re only three people in front of me now. If I give up my place in line, it will take me another half hour to get the food. And Mick and Margie are waiting at the bandstand, holding the seats. Could you do it, honey? It wouldn’t take you long. Ten minutes down, ten minutes back.”

Sophie sighed. “Oh, I suppose. I don’t want to be responsible for people starving.”

“I thank you . . . from the bottom of my stomach. And I’m sure Ethel will, too.”

She blew a lock of hair away from her forehead.

“See you later tonight, sweetheart.”

“Right. Bye.” She pocketed the phone, then took off out the front door, refusing to even look at the reception desk. Ethel came first.

The night had grown chilly now that the sun was setting. She wished she’d brought along a jacket, but there wasn’t time to run back upstairs. She cut down Vermillion to Duluth Street and turned left. With her favorite walking shoes on, she made good time. As she crossed an alley in the middle of the block, she heard a sort of muffled bark. It was the same sound Ethel made when she tried to bark with the tennis ball in her mouth. Uff. Uff. Uff, uff. Glancing into the alley, she saw Ethel standing about twenty feet away.

“Ethel?” Had she run away from the young man down by the river? “Is that you?”

She started toward her. Moving deeper into the dimness, she could see now that Ethel was tugging against something. And then she saw it. A thin black cord had been tied to her collar. What the hell was going on? Sensing danger, Sophie stopped. She started to back up.

That’s when a man stepped into her line of sight, a gun in his hand.

Sophie froze. “Roman?”

He motioned for her to move toward him.

Every instinct told her to run, but with a gun pointed at her chest, she wouldn’t get two feet if he really intended to use it. “What . . . what’s going on?”

“As you see, I have your little doggie,” he said, grabbing her by the arm and slamming her against a black van.

Staring at the gun, Sophie said, “What are you going to do?”

“I am a businessman. I must take care of business,” said Roman. He yanked her face first over to a brick wall, then pressed his full weight against her as he tied her hands behind her back with duct tape. When he yanked her to the front again, he slapped a piece of tape over her mouth.

She panicked, tried to scream, bucked as hard as she could to get away, but he held her fast with the weight of his body.

His breath stank of liquor. “You should never have called me back that night.”

Her eyes opened wide. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“You should never have told me you knew who I was and what I had done. How could I let you get away when you are the only witness, the only person who stands between me and my future?” He yanked her away from the wall, then slammed her back against it hard. “Tracy got in my way, too. I never thought I could kill someone. But when I walked out of that room, I knew I could do it again—if I had to.” He gripped Sophie’s throat. “
You
made that necessary. You should have kept your mouth shut. But then, if you had, I would never have known the danger I was in. You are a stupid woman.”

He’s crazy, thought Sophie. He’s going to kill me. Again, she tried to scream, but he slapped her hard across the face.

“Shut up,” he whispered.

He shoved her down on the ground, then tied her ankles together with more duct tape. His strength amazed her. The next second she was up again, being dragged over to the back of the van. He hoisted her in like a sack of flour, then unhooked Ethel from her leash and tossed her in.

Sophie knew she had mere seconds before the door of the van was shut. Nobody could hear her then. She bellowed as loud as she could through her taped mouth. Bellowed and bellowed, and then bellowed some more.

Roman whacked her legs with a piece of rebar to make her stop.

Ethel didn’t seem to like what he was doing. She dropped her ball and started barking. Suddenly, she lunged at him, clamping her teeth onto his ear. He tried to yank her off, but roared in pain as she hung on.

Sophie pulled herself into a sitting position. When she looked down, she saw that he’d dropped the gun.

“Goddamn you,” he snarled, trying to pry Ethel’s teeth loose.

At the same moment, a dark form whizzed past Sophie. An instant later, Roman was sprawled on the ground. Ethel let go and landed on a bunch of plastic garbage sacks.

“Get the gun,” shouted Bram’s voice.

The two men struggled as Ethel barked.

Margie suddenly appeared. She leaned down. When she straightened up, she held the gun in her hand. “Okay, asshole. You’re busted.”

Roman raised his hands.

Next thing Sophie knew, Bram was by her side. He ripped the tape off her mouth. “Are you okay?”