Read Don't Die Under the Apple Tree Online
Authors: Amy Patricia Meade
Don't Die Under the Apple Tree (17 page)
ads
“It wasn't. Not until Costello got into the mix.”
“And so, because you went after Costello ...”
“Kinney, and the powers that be, want me to make an example of you.”
“An example of what? Convicting an innocent woman?”
“Doesn't matter if you're innocent or not. They want an arrest to prove that the system still works and that we're not just focusing on Costello, but solving âreal' cases.”
“Why me? What did I do to deserve to be made an example of?”
“Luck of the draw. Truth is, they'd have chosen any case that would result in an easy arrest and an easier conviction. But don't worry, I haven't given up yet.” He eyed the gathering darkness around them and smiled. “Say, I'd better get you home before we have another city scandal on our hands.”
After discarding the remnants of their meal in a nearby trash can, Riordan escorted Rosie to the passenger seat of the Ford and then climbed into the driver's seat. With his foot applying steady pressure on the clutch, he gave the ignition key a turn, causing the car to jolt back to life.
After performing a three-point turn, Riordan steered the Ford Deluxe back onto Flushing Avenue. From there, it was a short drive to the Manhattan Bridge.
“So, now that I've told you everything I know, it's time for you to share,” Rosie prompted. “What have you found out about Finch? Or aren't you allowed to tell me?”
“I'm not supposed to tell you, but under the circumstances. . .”
“Yes?”
“Not much. We checked into Finch's past and found a bunch of women he had been linked to at various times, but given what you've unearthed, that's not shocking.”
“Do any of them seem like they might be suspects?”
“Not really. Like I said, Finch was âlinked' to them, but we couldn't learn many details. They simply weren't willing to open up to the cops the way they would to another woman. Not to mention that some of those relationships go back so far that it seems unlikely they'd take revenge now.”
Rosie sighed and leaned back against the passenger seat headrest. “And you found nothing in Finch's office? Or his home?”
“The shipyard office contained nothing more than employee records and standard paperwork. Not surprising since Finch shared it with the second-shift supervisor. And his apartment was clean. So clean, in fact, that we needed to contact the bank in order to secure his financial records.”
Rosie sat up. “There was no paperwork at the apartment at all?”
“Not a scrap. Which means either Finch kept his records elsewhere, under lock and key, or someone got rid of them.”
“Mrs. Finch?” she suggested.
Riordan pulled a face. “I spoke with Mrs. Finch. I have no trouble believing she'd be carrying on with the butcher or anyone else who paid her a bit of attention and treated her kindly, but I don't think she has any idea what she'd be looking for when it comes to financial matters.”
“Are you sure? Still waters run deep.”
Riordan made a right-hand turn onto the bridge. “Not a hundred percent, but pretty certain. She's led a sheltered life. Unless she was being coached by someone elseâ”
“Simonetti?”
“I guess it's possible. But why would she destroy those records? Because she was tucking money aside? Maybe, but I find it hard to believe that someone like Finch wouldn't have noticed it.”
“Maybe he did and that's why she and Simonetti bumped him off.”
“Anything's possible,” he shrugged. “But we can't make a case out of possibilities. Until we get that paperwork from the bank and give it a thorough read, we don't have proof of anything.”
“When will you get those records?”
“Tomorrow afternoon, most likely.”
“I have a half day tomorrow. I can stop by after headquarters after work andâ”
“No,” Riordan said sternly. “I shouldn't have shared what I did. You're not getting the bank information, too.”
“But I don't seeâ”
“No arguments. I'll take care of things from here.”
The trip over the bridge had taken less time than anticipated. In a few short moments, they were at the brownstone apartment building Rosie called home.
Riordan exited the driver's side of the vehicle and walked to Rosie's side in an attempt at gentlemanlike courtesy. She, however, had already let herself out.
“Thank you,” she said graciously, but it was apparent she was miffed. “Thank you for everything. Dinner. The talk. I appreciate it.”
“I'm not going to let you take the rap for this, Mrs. Keefe,” he said earnestly. “I won't stand by and let that happen.”
Rosie, however, couldn't see how Riordan had any other choice. “No, I'm sure you'll do your best,” she agreed as she mounted the front steps of the building. “Good night.”
He tipped his hat and watched as she stepped inside and shut the windowed wooden door behind her. “Good night, Rosie,” he whispered once she was safely inside.
Rosie, meanwhile, trudged to her second-floor apartment, where Katie, clad in a blue cotton, short-sleeved nightgown, sprawled upon the overstuffed couch, listening to
Hobby Lobby
. “So?” the blonde greeted upon Rosie's arrival.
Hobby Lobby
. “So?” the blonde greeted upon Rosie's arrival.
“So what?”
Katie sprung to her feet and switched the radio to off. “So, did you talk to Lieutenant Riordan?”
“I did.”
“Did he convince you to tell him what you found out?”
“Yes, we had a good, long discussion.”
“I'm glad. We need someone we can trust on our side. And, well, I kinda like him. I think he's nice.”
“Of course, you would,” Rosie teased. “He bought you lunch.”
“Very funny!” Katie stuck out her tongue.
Despite her heavy heart, Rosie plastered on a smile. “I'm joking. I told Lieutenant Riordan everything I know, and he told me everything he's uncovered. Especially that you were the heroine of the day. But he saved the details for you to tell.”
“Oh, that? It was nothing, really.” She blushed before launching headlong into the tale of Marie Finch, the love letter, and Robert Finch's old flame.
“I can't thank you enough, lamb.” Rosie embraced her sister tightly and then, slipping out of her loafers, plopped onto the sofa.
“Did it help? Will my findings keep you out of jail?” Katie asked eagerly.
“According to Riordan, they'll definitely help.”
“Just help? What else do you need?”
“Nothing, honey. There are just a few financial records missing. Once we find those, I'm as good as home.”
“How do we find them?” Katie sat on the cushion beside Rosie.
“âWe' don't find anything.”
“Oh, come on. I did a great job playing detective, didn't I?”
“You sure did. There's no denying that.”
“So, what gives? Why keep me out now? Tell me what's going on.”
Rosie undid the belt of her canvas coveralls and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She knew she couldn't tell Katie about her imminent arrest, but she reluctantly told her about the lack of documents at the shipyard office and the apartment. “The police did a search of Finch's apartment and came up empty.”
“Empty how?”
“Empty as in they found no bank records or other financial documents.”
“Oh, is that all!”
“What do you mean, âIs that all?' Katie-girl, sometimes you worry me.”
“Huh? All I meant is that Pop always hid money and stuff from Ma.”
Rosie jolted upright. “He did? I didn't know that.”
“Well, if you'd have stopped arguing with Ma long enough, he might have told you.” Katie smiled smugly.
“âWell, if you had' blah, blah, blah,” she mocked. “You forget that most of the times I argued with Ma it was on your behalf.”
“Oh, please. You two would have gone at it even if Pop and I weren't there.”
“Maybe,” Rosie said. “Just tell me about the money and the bills, will you?”
Katie leaned forward eagerly. “Okay, do you remember when Ma had that hat fetish?”
“Of course. Who could forget it? She saw that Hedda Hopper photo in the paper and decided she wanted to model herself after her.”
“Uh-huh. Once he got a huge bill from the milliner's, Dad kept all his spare cash and other stuff under lock and key.”
“Lock and key where?”
“The toolshed in the backyard. He knew Ma would never have gone back there and gotten her hands dirty. That's why he kept the racing form back there, too.”
“Is
that
where he kept it? You know, I always wondered about that. Ma would remove it from the paper in the morning and yet Pop would always have it back again by supper.”
that
where he kept it? You know, I always wondered about that. Ma would remove it from the paper in the morning and yet Pop would always have it back again by supper.”
Katie nodded. “He made me promise to keep it a secret.”
“Oh, and you keep
that
a secret. Meanwhile, you ratted me out for ...” Rosie's voice trailed off. “Wait a minute. If Ma and Pop, who otherwise got along okay, kept secrets from each other, it only makes sense that Finch, a man with a lot of secretsâ”
that
a secret. Meanwhile, you ratted me out for ...” Rosie's voice trailed off. “Wait a minute. If Ma and Pop, who otherwise got along okay, kept secrets from each other, it only makes sense that Finch, a man with a lot of secretsâ”
“Scads of them,” Katie confirmed.
“âwould have had even more reason to keep his bank records and bills under lock and key.”
“Did the Finches have a toolshed at their apartment building?”
Rosie laughed. “Afraid not, but I'm sure he would have picked a hiding place he could be sure his wife wouldn't check. Now, if I could only get into that apartment... .”
“Oh, but you can. Simonetti's note said that Marie Finch is staying with her sister all weekend. That means their place is empty.”
“You're forgetting something. I don't even know where the Finches live.”
“I do,” Katie happily said.
“You do? Really?”
“Yep.” Katie rose from the sofa and collected her handbag, which hung from the back of the bedroom door. Reaching inside, she removed a scrap of paper and read the words scribbled hastily in pencil. “â253 Van Brunt Street, upstairs apartment.'”
“You're amazing, Katie. How did you get that?”
“I overheard it at the butcher's shop and scribbled it down as soon as I left, just in case it might come in handy for something.”
“Handy? You have no idea how handy,” Rosie said appreciatively. “Hmm ... So all I have to do is find a way to get into the apartment and hope I find what I'm looking for.”
“âWe,'” Katie corrected. “All âwe' have to do is find what we're looking for.”
“Katieeee,” Rosie sang. “No. If you won't listen to me, listen to Lieutenant Riordan.”
“Lieutenant Riordan?”
“Yes, he told you you're not to do any more sleuthing, didn't he?”
“Well, maybe ...” Katie stared at her feet awkwardly. “Since when do you listen to what he has to say?”
“I don't ... Well, not much anyway. But he wouldn't approve of me breaking in, let alone you acting as my accomplice. It's best you stay home, sweetie.”
“You've been telling me to stay home since we were kids,” Katie whined, “and I'm tired of it! You said yourself that I did a great job as a detective. Besides, it seems to me that you could use a lookout when you check out Finch's place. You know, someone to give a whistle should the cops or anyone else show up.”
Rosie mulled it over; the idea was not without merit. “Come on, Katie, don't push me. I can't have you with me. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
“What do you think is going to happen? It's Red Hook in broad daylight and you'll be there with me.”
The older sister pulled a face.
“Please?” Katie begged. “I'll meet you after work and we can go together.”
“And what about Charlie?”
“I'll have Ma watch him while I go âshopping.'”
“Katie ... you shouldn't.” Rosie felt her resolve weakening.
“I don't care if I shouldn't. I want to help you as much as I can. Please,” Katie urged.
Rosie thought of the short time left until her arrest. She didn't want Katie and Charlie to see her taken away in handcuffs. “Okay,” she agreed. “You can come with me, but on one condition.”
“Sure. What is it?”
ads
Other books
His Paradise Wife by Tina Martin
The Mystery on Cobbett's Island by Kenny, Kathryn
Blackwood's Woman by Beverly Barton
The Dr Pepper Prophecies by Jennifer Gilby Roberts
The Champion by Scott Sigler
Wild in the Field by Jennifer Greene
Song of the Deep by Brian Hastings
Raging Heat by Richard Castle
Outposts by Simon Winchester
Julia’s Kitchen by Brenda A. Ferber