Think Murder (13 page)

Light workloads can be nice, once in a while. Too often, and the boredom is unbearable, leaving too much time to brood. Thursday was showing all the signs of becoming one of those days. That is, until Matt called me into his office with some good news.

Matt had just returned from Dr. Grayson’s office. Funding had finally been approved for the proposed study of the use of solar energy in the residential sector in America, its past uses, and recommendations for policy. It would be a large-scale project, with lots of data to collect and analyze. As part of the project, he would be attending all kinds of meetings and conferences, relying on me to work independently in his absence.

“In view of the scope of the project and the budget, we will need more manpower. If you are interested, I would like you to serve as my research assistant. Based on your performance in the last two years, I think you’d do a fine job and Dr. Grayson is willing to rely on my judgment.”

“Oh, Matt. Thank you. That’s great news. I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

“Needless to say, your job description and terms of employment will be updated accordingly. Kaye will then recruit a new admin assistant/secretary to fill your position.”

I smiled and thanked him again. Half-way out the door, I remembered to ask Matt about taking time off the next week. “Next week is
Rosh Hashanah
, the Jewish New Year. Is it OK if I take off Wednesday through Friday to go visit my family?”

“Absolutely. You deserve a break. Fill out the form and I’ll sign off on it.”

The excitement of a promotion had driven all negative thoughts from my mind. As a result, I was in a great mood when I headed out for lunch with Michelle. I couldn’t stop smiling. It didn’t take long for Michelle to notice.

“What’s up? Why are you in such a good mood?”

Matt’s news wasn’t exactly a secret so I told her that the project had been approved and I was finally going to have something to do. “And, well, nothing is final, but Matt wants to make me his research assistant.”

“That would be great – I’m happy for you!” She smiled warmly.

“But, Michelle, please really do keep this between us until it’s approved and official.”

Around 3:30, Jonathan called again. “Happy to report that things have fallen into place. Hilary's murderer and the persons responsible for having her killed have been arrested. I have a lot to tell you. Do you have plans after work? Perhaps I could swing by and meet you at the DIPPeR… and I could give you all the good news over a glass of wine somewhere…”

Although I had expected that Jonathan would update me eventually, this sounded like a date and caught me off guard. After an awkward pause, I responded, “That would be fine.”

We agreed to meet in the reception area at 5 o’clock.

I know that an hour and a half is only 90 minutes. Still the next 90 minutes felt like an eternity. A variety of potential scenarios and theories raced through my mind, from the how and why of Hilary’s murder through to whether or not my relationship with Jonathan was on the verge of a transition from professional to personal. Part of me hoped so, while another part of me was fantasizing about Bruce and remembering how it had felt when he held me in his arms. It had definitely been too long since I’d been up close and personal with a man.

Before I left, I stopped by the ladies' room. I surveyed my appearance in the mirror, glad I had chosen to wear a flattering blue and green jacket dress to work that day. Not too dressy, not too casual. I ran a brush through my hair, and applied a bit of blush and lip gloss, wondering where we were going.

I had just clocked out when Jonathan entered the reception area.

“Hi, Adina. You ready to head out?" He smiled warmly.

Jonathan held the door open for me as we left. Neither of us spoke until we had reached the ground floor and exited the building.

He was first to break the silence, “I was thinking of heading around the corner to the Farragut Inn. I've heard that the lobby there is a good place for quiet conversation. That is, if it’s OK with you?”

Made sense to me. So many of the city’s pubs and restaurants are noisy during happy hour. So what if we were going to have our meeting or maybe first date in a hotel. I smiled, “That’s fine.”

I must have passed by the Farragut Inn hundreds of times without paying much attention to it. As we approached, I took a closer look. The building was old and unassuming. The only thing that stood out was its ornate wooden door.

The hotel’s interior was a total surprise. Elegant and understated, the lobby and reception area featured solid oak furnishing with dark blue and gold upholstery and accents. A variety of seating arrangements were placed throughout the spacious lobby. We camped out at a table for two.

I glanced around, taking it all in. “Wow. This place is beautiful. You’d never guess looking at it from the outside.”

“One of the guys at the station said it was worth a visit."

“He was right.”

A waiter came and took our order. I looked at Jonathan and waited. He didn't appear to be in any hurry to update me on the case. Finally, I exclaimed, “
Nu
, tell me already…”

He laughed. “All in due time. All in due time.”

The waiter brought us our beverages, and finally Jonathan deigned to fill me in.

“OK. I’ll put you out of your misery.” His tone of voice became more serious, “As I already told you, Fenner was working for Leonard Martinelli. Turns out that Martinelli is a building contractor from West Virginia, and most of his business is in Morningstone. On closer examination, we found out that Martinelli teams up with Samuel Whitmore for all his big projects. Whitmore’s a well-established developer and financier, who has a lot of clout. It seems both Martinelli and Whitmore made generous donations to Congressman Redmond’s last campaign. Quid pro quo, he was expected to advance their interests with the zoning board.”

“Meaning push approval of their projects through the board in violation of the conservation status quo. So that's why they didn’t like it when we asked questions.” It was starting to make sense to me.

“Exactly. Anyway, even if the sequence of events leading up to Hilary’s murder is not 100% clear, one thing is for sure – Glen Gardner wasn’t paranoid. When Gardner inquired into the repurposing of lands in West Virginia and mentioned Hilary’s work, Gardner’s boss, Preston Lane, alerted Martinelli that there might be a problem. You see, Martinelli had been paying hush money for the Tristate Land Preservation Coalition to overlook irregularities. That’s why Gardner’s boss shut him down when he asked questions.”

He continued. “In the meantime, Martinelli met with Redmond and Whitmore on the Mall. That same morning you and Hilary were taking pictures, inadvertently immortalizing the moment. Fenner was observing from nearby and reported back to Martinelli, who assumed Hilary had been spying on him.”

“That was a coincidence! Hilary was teaching me how to take panoramic shots, we weren’t paying any attention to the people.”

“Yes, but Martinelli didn’t know that. He sent Fenner to follow and kill her, with instructions to make it look like an accident. Fenner didn’t see a chance to fake an accident, so he staged a suicide.”

I had to interrupt. “So Hilary was killed because she liked to take pictures and happened to have asked a couple of questions.”

“In a nutshell, yes.” Before I could comment, he continued. “Wait, there’s more. In the meantime, Martinelli had Fenner keeping an eye on Glen. Fenner recognized you from that morning on the mall. When Martinelli heard that you had met with Glen, he alerted Whitmore. From then on, Whitmore’s nephew – Franklin Hogan – and Fenner took turns following you.”

“It was Hogan who planted the note in your pocket on the crowded subway. The idea was to scare you. Whitmore didn’t want anyone else killed. Then Martinelli got word that someone had contacted Redmond’s office, asking questions about Hogan. Martinelli panicked, again, and sent Hogan and Fenner after you. Fenner followed you to Cutie Pie, and you already know the rest.”

“They would’ve killed me if I had gotten into that van, wouldn’t they?” Such a somber thought.

“Probably. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. The irony is that if they hadn’t tried to kidnap you, and you hadn’t tripped Fenner, we might never have found out who killed Hilary. The DNA from the blood sample cracked open the case. Fenner, Hogan, Whitmore, and Martinelli are all facing charges of murder and conspiracy to commit murder, among other things.”

“What about Congressman Redmond?”

“There’s no solid evidence linking him to the murder or the attempted kidnapping. He has been taken in for questioning, and is under investigation for taking bribes. The story should hit the newspapers tomorrow morning. Even if he doesn’t serve time, his political career is pretty much finished.” This led to a brief discussion of the perils of Washington politics.

When the conversation had run its course, Jonathan’s deep brown eyes had an almost smoldering quality as he gazed into mine.

“Adina, now that the case is solved, I hope that we can take time to get to know each other better.”

Although his words didn’t exactly catch me by surprise, I was pleased and flustered at the same time, and probably blushing. “I think I’d like that.”

He smiled, “I’m glad.” He glanced at his watch. “I have an evening shift tonight. If we leave now, I can drop you off at home before I go in.”

On the way, he turned to me with a sheepish expression. “I know it’s considered bad form to invite someone out on short notice, but would you care to join me for dinner tomorrow night?”

My turn to smile. “That sounds great.”

Even though he was in a hurry, he walked me to the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow to finalize our plans.”

“Thanks, Jonathan. Talk to you then.”

Alone with my thoughts, it was humbling to realize how easy it had been for Fenner to kill Hilary. And how close I had almost come to the same fate. Despite my secular upbringing, I found myself wondering if I should recite
Birkat HaGomel
, the traditional prayer of thanks recited after surviving a dangerous situation.

The sound of an incoming Skype call jarred me back to the present. It was Julie. First off, she apologized for not getting back to me sooner. “I had a crazy couple of days, yesterday I had a paper due for Criminal Law, and this afternoon we had an exam in Contracts. I am so glad that’s behind me now. What’s new your end of the world?”

I tried to remember when we had last spoken. “Did I tell you about the note someone slipped me?”

“What note? A love note, I hope.”

I chuckled. “Not exactly. I hope you’re sitting down, this might take a while.”

My attempts to present events in chronological order were soon foiled by Julie’s impatience. She demanded to know who the note was from, and whether I was in danger. Telling her that it was from the ‘Library guy’ only confused her. So I cut to the chase – explaining who had killed Hilary and why. Then filled in the blanks regarding how I had become involved, threatened, and almost kidnapped.

“Wow. That’s appalling. You could’ve been killed.”

I assured her that I was fine and told her that the persons responsible were in police custody.

“Will you have to testify?”

“Hopefully not. There’s enough evidence to prove that Fenner killed Hilary and he is cooperating, so if he agrees to testify they might not need me. Jonathan said they would try to keep me out of it.”

“He did, did he? Sounds like the detective’s got a soft spot for you, protective and all that. Anything you haven’t told me?”

“Actually, he asked me out. We’re going out for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Woo-hoo! Finally an end to that dry stretch you’ve had going.”

“It’s only dinner. I’m not sure where it’s going.”

“Well, do you like him or not?”

“Sure, I like him. It’s just he’s not the type I am usually attracted to. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not unattractive and he’s great to talk to – but I don’t feel that lust-laden attraction, you know like I felt whenever I was around Keith, or Bruce for that matter.”

“Bruce, the volunteer at Cutie Pie?” She joked, “Your stories conjure up visions of the mysterious hero in a Harlequin romance novel, whose only mission in life is to pick you up when you fall.”

“You can laugh at me all you want. I admit I’m confused. I enjoy Jonathan’s company – even though our conversations have mostly focused on Hilary’s murder. On the other hand, my hormones go on high alert whenever Bruce is close by – not to mention how it felt to be held in his arms. I’m a lost cause.”

“Adina, go out with Jonathan tomorrow and see where things lead. One date does not a commitment make. You could still go out with Bruce, that is, if he asks you. Keep me posted.”

When the late night news came on, one of the lead stories reported that U.S. Representative Mitchell Redmond had been questioned in connection with a zoning scandal in his home state. The reporter stated that the police had not yet divulged the details of the case and promised to keep viewers informed as more information emerged.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I did a quick search on the internet to see if additional details had been published. Nothing much had been reported beyond what I had seen on TV. More than an hour later, I forced myself to disconnect from my laptop and went to bed.