Murder and the Museum Page 8

  “You sure won’t hear me complaining,” Marty said. “I love pretty much all kinds of food, but a steak dinner is still my favorite, and I’d bet I’m not the only one.”

  “Considering it’s on just about every restaurant menu anywhere in the United States, I don’t think you’re alone.” John looked up and saw Jeff walking towards them. “Well, Detective Combs, how goes the battle?”

  “It just got more interesting,” Jeff said holding up the manila envelopes Marty had given him a few minutes earlier. “Marty what can you tell me about these envelopes?”

  Marty told the group about Carl’s and her visit to the Borden home and their conversation with Emma. When she was finished, she said, “So what’s in the envelopes that’s so interesting?”

  “What I haven’t been able to find all day through normal channels. Camille’s trust is in here. Her signature on the trust is witnessed by an attorney from Los Angeles and a woman named Emma Schneider. I’m assuming the Emma you spoke of earlier and the one I met, is one and the same.”

  “Yes, that’s her, but I wonder why she didn’t say anything about it being in there. I guess she probably didn’t know,” Marty said. “If Camille was as forgetful as Emma indicated to me, she probably stuck it in there after her meeting with her attorney.”

  “Since Emma is one of the witnesses, it means it was probably executed at the house, so I’m assuming that the attorney came down from Los Angeles.” Jeff set the envelopes on the table. “The trust indicates his office also drew up her will. I tried to find his firm on the internet, but I couldn’t. I’ll keep looking. It looks like he was a sole practitioner, so maybe he’s deceased. I’ll check it out tomorrow with some attorneys I know in Los Angeles.”

  “Jeff, when was it signed?” Marty asked.

  “About a year ago.”

  “That must be about the time she found out she had cancer. She probably wanted to get her affairs in order and may have just started the chemo treatments. I think Emma referred to it as chemo fog. Now that we’ve established all of that, how much of her estate does her son get? All of it?” Marty held her breath waiting for Jeff’s response.

  He was quiet as he took a sip of his wine. “No, she specifically disinherited him.”

  The courtyard residents were silent as they digested the news. “Jeff, who did she leave her estate to?” Laura asked.

  “There is specific language in her trust giving her entire estate, including her art and antique collection, to her museum. In the event the museum has not been built as of the date of her death, which is now the case, she gives her entire estate to the Friends of the Palm Springs Animal Sanctuary. She states in her trust that it is a no-kill shelter and that’s why she’s giving such a large sum to them.”

  “Wow! That’s about all I can say. Wow!” Marty said. “I’d love to be there to see the looks on Leticia’s and Austin’s faces when they find out Austin is going to get nothing. I wonder how long she’ll stay with him. I’ve heard he’s getting near the end of his trust fund.

  “Jeff,” Marty continued, “I’m no legal scholar, but it seems to me that both Austin and his wife have a motive to murder Camille. Since the trust was stuck in a manila envelope and more or less misplaced in the garage, I’d bet everything they don’t know Austin has been disinherited.

  “Given what seems to have been her forgetfulness, plus just the emotional difficulty of telling your son you’re disinheriting him, it makes sense she wouldn’t have told him. And if he and his wife didn’t know Austin had been disinherited, then they might think if they killed Camille, Austin would inherit her estate. That’s a very powerful motive for murder.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Jeff said, “because I haven’t had a lot of luck coming up with other people who might have had motives, but then again with the other two murders I’m investigating, I really haven’t had as much time as I would like to focus on this case. However, I did have an interesting phone call today from a veterinarian.”

  “I’m obviously missing something,” Les said.

  “Where does that fit into this conversation?” John asked.

  “Well, it has to do with the land that Camille was going to purchase. The vet has a woman working for him who’s an expert on the desert tortoise.”

  “So?” John asked.

  “Stay with me, I’m getting there. She has a building on his property, and she’s known as the ‘Tortoise Lady,’ or so he said. He told me she’s consumed with protecting the species. He said she was originally from Chicago, but after visiting her aunt in Palm Springs, she became infatuated with the area and more particularly, with the desert tortoise.”

  “And I repeat, so?”

  “The so is that she’s really been acting strange lately. Or, according to him, stranger than usual. She had a client tell her that Camille was going to build a museum on desert land out by the junction of Highway 111 and Interstate 10. Apparently, she feels no one has the right to build on that land because it is prime habitat for the desert tortoise. That’s all she talks about. He said he’s worried that she’s losing her sanity.”

  “Okay, Jeff, that’s a pretty good so,” John said.

  “Thanks. The vet read in this morning’s paper that Camille was murdered yesterday and couldn’t shake the feeling that he should call me. He says he can’t imagine that his employee, whose name is Violet Smythe, would have had anything to do with it, but he says it certainly is a strange coincidence.”

  “And we all know what you think about coincidences,” the group said in unison.

  “I’m going to change the subject, Marty,” Laura said. “Did you ever talk to the broker who was handling Camille’s land purchase?”

  “Yes, and Jeff, I found a couple of other people who might be considered persons of interest or suspects.”

  “I don’t recall talking to you about calling anyone,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “I thought we’d discussed this in the past, and you’d agreed you wouldn’t get involved in my cases unless I specifically asked you to. And quite frankly, Marty, if we had that conversation it’s news to me.”

  “You know I’d never go against your wishes, Jeff,” she said as the others sitting at the table looked everywhere but at the two of them. “But since we hadn’t talked about anything specifically in this case, and I am the person who will be doing the appraisal, I just thought I’d see what I could find out. Anyway, Laura made me do it,” she said, pointing her finger towards her sister.

  Jeff sighed. “All right. Let’s hear it. Exactly what did the commercial broker have to tell you?”

  “I’m curious too, Marty, since I’m the one who kind of insisted you do it,” Laura said.

  “As always, Laura, your instincts were right on. There were two other people who were interested in the property. As a matter of fact, one of them gave the broker a check this morning. Here’s what I found out from the broker about them.”

  When Marty finished telling them about what Tony Snyder had to say, she told them about the phone call she’d had with Marc Katz, who wanted to build a mega resort on the property, then she said, “Jeff, there’s a little more to the story. You see, I went out to the Whitewater River Indian reservation and met with the chairman.”

  “You what?” Jeff said, spluttering into his wine. “You went out to some reservation by yourself, and you had reason to think that someone on the reservation might have been a suspect. Like in killing someone? Marty, please tell me we’re not having this conversation.” Jeff spoke in a very soft voice, a voice Marty knew he only used when he was really angry.

  “Everybody, I hate to do this, but I’m going to bring the food out now. Max, why don’t you throw the steaks on and we can all take a little break?” John said, sensing the tension in the courtyard needed to be dialed down.

  “Will do, Boss,” Max said as he and John stood up. “The steaks are ready to go. I seasoned them, and they’re on the table by the barbecue, which is why Patron has probably be
en pacing back and forth.”

  “Don’t think so, Max,” Laura said. “That animal senses things and right now he’s sensing that Jeff is not very happy with his master.”

  Jeff looked over at her and then at Marty. He bent down and said, “Patron, come here. Everything’s fine. I’m not mad at your master. I just worry about her.” Patron dutifully walked over to Jeff, sensing the change in the tone of his voice.

  Jeff looked up and said, “Marty, we’ll continue this discussion after dinner. I don’t think any of us wants to put a strain on our digestive system.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “John, Max, that was perfect,” Jeff said. “There is simply nothing like a good steak with all the trimmings, and the ice cream was a good finish rather than some rich chocolate dessert, although I doubt I’ve ever turned one down.”

  Laura looked at Marty and said, “Marty, I think you’re on. There’s an eight-hundred-pound elephant in the room. Let’s take a look at it. What happened out at the reservation?”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of interested, too. Matter of fact, I think we’d all like to know,” Jeff said with a penetrating look at Marty.

  “All right, I concede. I will tell you that as I was going up the dirt road to the reservation I did have a ‘what have I done?’ moment, but it was just that, a moment. Here’s what happened.” She told them everything from when she’d driven onto the reservation to when she’d left, holding back the tears. She ended by saying, “I’m absolutely certain the chairman did not kill Camille Borden. I’d bet my life on it.”

  Jeff looked down at his phone and said, “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve been waiting for this call all afternoon. It’s the coroner.” He walked into their house and although they could hear his voice, they couldn’t make out what he was saying. They were all quiet, waiting for his return.

  “Marty,” Jeff said when he returned and sat down in his chair, “I think you better be a little more careful the next time you say you’d bet your life on something.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The coroner said the preliminary report came back on the cause of death, and it seems to be a knife or an arrow.” He sat back and waited for her response.

  Marty just looked at him in shock. She waited a moment and then she said, “Well if it was an arrow, it was not the chairman.”

  “Careful, Marty. He certainly had a motive, and from what you’ve said, he seemed to be clear-headed enough to do something like that for his tribe if that was the only way out.”

  “No, I refuse to believe it.” Marty’s mind was made up about the man she’d met that afternoon, and Jeff’s revelation wasn’t going to change it. “It’s still early in the investigation. I’m sure something else will surface.”

  “Jeff, I have to back Marty on this,” Laura said. “For whatever it’s worth, and it’s usually worth something, I’m getting a strong feeling that the chairman did not do it, nor did anyone from his tribe. Camille was not murdered by an arrow. It was some type of knife. Marty told you that Marc had some unsavory investors. Reading between the lines, it sounds like it might be the Mafia, and I’ve always heard that knives are a part of their killing repertoire.”

  “Nice wording, Laura, killing repertoire.” Jeff’s expression lightened a little. “I’ll take what you say into account, but I have to tell you that the report the coroner is going to give me will probably trump your intuition. I wouldn’t last very long in this business if I took the word of a psychic over the word of a county coroner. Think I’d be looking for a new job rather quickly if I did.”

  “Okay, everybody,” Les said, “let’s take a time out and look at this thing coldly and rationally. Jeff, seems to me like you have five viable suspects where earlier you had none.” He held up two fingers and began ticking them off. “Austin Phillips certainly qualifies. Maybe he did it alone. Maybe he did it with his wife, or maybe they did it together.”

  He held up a third finger. “Then you have Marc Katz, the developer, who might have ties to the Mafia.” He held up a fourth finger. “Then we have the chairman of the Whitewater River tribe or one of its members, that’s the fourth.” He held up a fifth finger. “And lastly the Tortoise Lady, aka Violet Smythe.” He spread his hand out. “And ladies and gentlemen, that completes the known list of persons of interest in the murder of Camille Borden.”

  “Les, I think you missed your calling. Trust me, from what I just heard you’re a lot better than the lawyers I often have to deal with,” Jeff chuckled. “If the art business gets slow, you might want to consider taking up murder investigations as a new vocation. All kidding aside, as things stand right now I don’t know what to think. Maybe a night of sleep will help. I’m out of here. Marty, are you coming?”

  “Yes. Want to join me while I walk the dogs?”

  “Wouldn’t do otherwise. Who knows what lurks in the desert shadows?” he said with a laugh as he slapped his hand against his thigh indicating to the dogs it was time for a walk.

  When they returned to the courtyard, it was quiet and dark, the residents had returned to their homes, readying themselves for the following day.

  CHAPTER 19

  The buzzing alarm clock woke Marty a little earlier than she would have liked.

  “Sorry, Marty, but I wanted to get an early start on the day. I need to get some more information on some of those people you talked to. I’m particularly interested in the Mafia connection. I know they have a presence here in the desert, so I’d like to see what I can find out about this guy Marc Katz.”

  Jeff rolled over, kissed her lightly, and swung his long legs out of bed. “I had a shower before I went to bed last night, so after I shave and get dressed, I’ll be out of here.”

  Marty pulled on her robe and stood next to the bathroom door. “In that case, I’ll talk to you from here, rather than over a cup of coffee.” She stifled a yawn. “I pre-programmed the coffee maker just before we went to bed. I had a feeling you’d be up early, so it should be ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thanks, glad I have a wife who understands how important coffee is to a man,” he said grinning in the mirror at her.

  “Jeff, I’ll be curious what you find out about Marc Katz, but if there’s a Mafia connection, I’m sure someone on the force would be familiar with it. I just had another thought, too. Do you have anyone on the force or any sources who might have a tie to the Whitewater River tribe?”

  “One of my officers is part Native American, but I don’t know what his tribe is. Why?”

  “The conversation you had last night with the coroner is bothering me, more specifically, the part about the murder weapon possibly being an arrow. I wonder if you could find out if the Whitewater River tribe has a history of using arrows? I kind of thought arrows were some Hollywood producer’s idea of an Old West thing. I didn’t know they were still used, if that’s so.”

  “I’m kind of like you, Marty, I thought they were only in old western movies. I know they have an archery competition in the Olympics, but I thought that was similar to the fencing competition, pretty much done as a sport. You bring up a good point, sweetheart. I’ll have a talk with him and see if he knows anything. Good idea.”

  “Thanks.”

  He stopped shaving and turned to face her. “Marty, while we’re on this topic, I want you to know how concerned I was when you told us that you’d gone to the reservation by yourself. I’m over it, but I was talking to one of my men yesterday, and he said there’s a phone app that two people can use to see where the other one is located. I believe both parties have to agree to use it. I’d like for us to get it. That way, at least I’d know where you were if you didn’t come home when you were supposed to.”

  “Seems kind of like an invasion of privacy to me,” Marty said. “I wonder how that sits with the Fourth Amendment.”

  “I can see where someone might think that if they had something to hide or were going places they didn’t want their spouse to know about. However, co
nsidering that I don’t care if you know where I am, I’m assuming you wouldn’t care if I knew where you were. I’m only thinking about your safety.”

  Marty was quiet for a moment, remembering something she’d recently read on how to have a good marriage. The magazine article had quoted some psychologist who said, “Choose your battles wisely.” She decided this wasn’t a battle she wanted to have and if it made Jeff feel better, she could go along with it.

  “Okay, why don’t you get it for both of us. You know how computer illiterate I am. I’ll get my phone now, and you can download the app to both of our phones.”

  “Thanks, Marty. I already feel better.”

  A few minutes later Jeff said, “Okay, we’re all set. I put it on both of our phones, but just because it’s on there, please don’t take any unnecessary risks. I really don’t want to have to use it.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good, now that we’ve taken care of that issue, any other plans today besides starting the appraisal?”

  “No, I thought I’d spend the morning looking over the catalogue Emma gave me yesterday. At least I’ll have a baseline for some of the items, and that’s always a good place to start.”

  He finished his coffee, put his gun in his holster, pulled on his sport coat, kissed her, waved to the dogs, and then walked to the gate. Marty called the dogs and walked them outside, debating with herself what exactly would make Jeff check the new phone app to determine her location. She was sure he wouldn’t use it this morning.

  CHAPTER 20

  Jeff walked into his office and saw that his secretary had already put a steaming cup of coffee on his desk. That’s one reason he really liked her. She knew when a day was going to be busy and even if he’d already had some coffee at home, she knew he’d appreciate a fresh hot cup. And he did. It also let him know that she thought the day was going to be a zoo, and that worried him.