Gumshoe Ghost Mystery: Dying for the Past Part 5

Disbelief telegraphed between Captain Sutter and Bear-telltale looks, raised eyebrows. Cop-intuition. Even my bulls.h.i.+t-meter was pinging.

Angel picked up on it, too, and broke a long silence. "Bonnie, how long have you been married to Stephanos?"

"He seems much older," Captain Sutter added.

"Yes, he is much older," Bonnie snapped, flipping her hair off her shoulders with more resentment than grief. "I know what you're thinking. We married three months ago, after we met six months ago on a cruise. Anything else? Am I your suspect?"

"No, Bonnie, no." Angel patted her hand. "They have to ask personal questions. They have to know everything about Stephanos. And-"

"And they have to see if I killed him for his money." Bonnie's voice was flat and cold. "I know what they're getting at."

"Yes, Bonnie." Bear sat down across from her. "It's unfortunate, but that's how this works. Look, we can do this later if you like. I understand-"

"No, Detective. Now is fine. I'll be honest-I don't know the details of Steph's will. But I'm sure he left everything to me. Why not, I'm his wife, right?"

"But you don't know, correct?" Captain Sutter asked. "For sure, I mean."

Bonnie shook her head.

"Does he have any other family?" Bear asked in a softer voice. "Children by another marriage?"

"None he told me about. But we've not discussed much of his past. What would it look like if I started asking him about his money and wills and business stuff? He would have been angry and suspicious. Just like you."

Bear and Angel exchanged glances. Angel said, "You're right, Bonnie. But they have to ask. Let's go find some tea. Okay, Bear?"

"Sure," Bear grunted. "We'll take this up later."

Captain Sutter agreed. "We'll get you out of here soon, Bonnie. I'm sorry about the questions. I am. If you don't want to go home, we can make arrangements for a hotel. But I'd like my men to be able to search your home tonight. It's important."

Bonnie nodded and followed Angel into the house.

Bear watched them leave and said, "She's different, isn't she?"

"Yeah-half his age and no clue about him." Captain Sutter shook her head. "I bet she inherits a fortune. She claims not to know for sure. I don't know what to believe from her, so just in case, we better put protection on her for a while, Bear. Starting now."

"Sounds like a job for Spence, Cap."

She forced a laugh. "Yeah, okay-Spence. He'll love you for volunteering him." Then she turned and looked at the house. "This case is bizarre."

Me, I think the entire evening was bizarre. Like this mansion of Vincent Calaprese's-of the New Jersey Calapreses-was one interesting, weird, bizarre place. What bothered me the most was that despite all my neat spirit-tricks and snappy detective skills, I had no idea what was going on. Neither did Bear. But, one thing was certain-either Bonnie or Stephanos Grecco had made someone very mad. And that someone was skilled and brazen; a very bad combination.

Then there was sweet Sa.s.sy and the Big Band mobster demanding I deliver Benjamin-whoever he was-or I swim with the fishes.

I better find Benjamin. After all, I'm not so sure ghosts can swim.

twelve.

Bear and I were standing in the main hall when I spotted Angel arguing with a balding man in a tuxedo. I recognized the blowhard without introduction.

Professor W. Simon Hahn-"W" for weird, whiner, and worrywart.

Professor Hahn was a Senior Fellow-and senior pain-in-the-a.s.s-at the University of the Shenandoah Valley, a muckety-muck in the University's College of History. Unfortunately, he was also a colleague of Angel's at the Mosby Center for American Studies. W. Simon Hahn was a historian by training and a bureaucrat and politician mixed with snake and earthworm on the evolutionary scale. When Angel's old boss, Ernie Stuart-the prior history department chair-took the heart attack train to h.e.l.l, W. Simon Hahn was measuring his office before the crime scene was finished. Much to his irritation, the job was filled, albeit on a temporary basis, by Angel. The Board of Regents felt she was the most qualified and deserving, despite W. Simon Hahn's pending orders for new paint and furniture.

Since then, W. Simon Hahn was an ever-present lump on our backsides-no explanation of what I mean is necessary here.

He was having an animated conversation with Angel near a table just inside the ballroom and it didn't sit well with me. Arms flailed, chins jutted, and steam rose from his ears. Bear saw it too and made a beeline for their table.

Professor Hahn whirled around when Bear walked up. "I am speaking with Tucker-"

"Professor Tucker," Bear said in a stiff tone. "And you are?"

"Professor and Senior Fellow W. Simon Hahn. And who is addressing me?"

"'W' for whacko, Bear." I couldn't resist.

Bear stepped closer and let his shadow push Professor Hahn back from Angel. "Braddock. I'm a senior detective and senior deputy of the Frederick County Sheriff's Department and Major Crimes Task Force. I'm in charge here."

"How wonderful for you." Professor Hahn turned away and glared at Angel. "My business is with Professor Tucker. Not you, officer."

"Detective," Bear repeated.

I said, "Punt this little twerp, Bear. Angel's got enough troubles right now."

"Professor," Bear said, "this is a homicide investigation. If there's another issue, it'll have to wait."

"It cannot wait."

Angel shook her head. "Just tell me what you need, Simon. So far, all you've done is complain about the gala. And while I'm truly sorry about the way it ended, it is not my fault."

"Oh?" Professor Hahn straightened with an audible humph and took out a small, leather notepad from his tuxedo pocket. "I'm surprised to hear you say that. I would like the donations turned over to me for safe keeping at once. You have too many other duties at present to concern yourself with those. I think it appropriate as I am-"

"Sorry, Professor." Bear held up a hand. "Sometime during the murder, the donations were stolen. We're looking into it, but the murder has priority."

When Professor Hahn smiled, Dr. Jekyll turned into Mr. Hyde. "Uh-oh, Angel, Simon's happy. Nothing good happens when he's happy."

"Stolen? Right in front of everyone?" Professor Hahn took out a pen and scribbled something in his notepad. "Professor Tucker, you are responsible for the safety and security of our guests and the donations. I believe the Board of Regents-"

"Whoa, there, Professor," Bear said, stepping closer again. "Angela was not responsible for the safety and security of the guests and donations. Nor is she responsible for the theft or murder. I had two detectives on guard in the ballroom. Stephanos Grecco's murder was used to someone's advantage and the monies stolen. We'll get them back."

"You had better. This is going to look very bad with the Board of Regents. And in their final selection for the History Chair, too. Now-"

Bear held up a hand. "Did you see or hear anything relevant to this homicide investigation?"

Hahn blinked several times and looked from Angel to Bear. "Well, yes, I did. I tried to tell the other deputy but he thought I was drunk or something."

"What then? Tell me."

"Ah, yes, let me recall a moment. Yes, yes, let me think."

Did I mention W. Simon Hahn was a drama queen?

"Yes, a few moments after the shot, I saw someone emerge from nowhere at the end of the hall and go into the lounge. I went to the lounge door and heard someone talking inside. Just before I went in, I heard a bang-like a door slamming or something."

Bear asked, "And? Did you see who was in there?"

"No one was in there, Detective. I'm trying to explain to you. I went into the lounge and there was no one there. Empty. And I know no one came out-I was at the door."

I said, "How much champagne did he have?"

Angel covered a smile with her hand. "Are you sure, Simon? Are you sure you saw and heard someone inside?"

"Of course I'm sure. I'm not the one talking to myself all the time." He raised his chin and shot Angel a look more sniping than his tone. "Now am I?"

"Just what are you saying, Simon?"

Bear asked, "Why was it unusual for someone to be in the lounge talking? I mean, why do you think it's important?"

"I am not saying it's important, Detective." Professor Hahn jammed his fists on his hips. "I'm saying it was odd. Everyone ran toward the ballroom, except one person who went inside the lounge. Then, poof, no one was inside."

"Poof?" Bear said. "Poof? You're sure?"

"I am not in the habit of telling stories, Detective."

Bear went to a deputy standing in the hall, spoke with him, and returned to us with the deputy in tow. "Professor, go with this deputy. He'll take another statement."

"Now, see here. I have more to discuss with Professor Tucker. After all, with all the complaints I'm receiving-"

Bear pointed to the deputy. "He'll take the complaints, too."

The deputy rolled his eyes and led Professor W. Simon Hahn to the lounge.

Angel said, "Do you think he's telling the truth? About someone disappearing in the lounge, I mean?"

"No," Bear said. "People don't disappear into thin air."

"They don't?" I said. "I can."

thirteen.

Angel went off to calm the guests and I followed Bear to Captain Sutter who was inside the sitting room. When we walked in, she waved at Bear. "Bonnie Grecco's resting in a back room. Get her out of here as soon as you can break Spence free, Bear."

"Yeah, okay. It'll be another hour or so-"

The tall oak door creaked open and a deputy ran straight for Captain Sutter. "We have a witness."

"Who?" Captain Sutter asked.

"One of the caterers saw a guest coming down the rear servant's stairway right after Grecco was shot."

Bear asked, "Are they sure?"

"Yep." The deputy explained, "A young gal-Rita-something-is in the kitchen. She remembered because someone yelled into the kitchen something about a guest being shot. Everyone ran to the ballroom to see what was going on. When Rita got to the hall, a guy ran up behind her from the rear servant's stairwell. He almost ran into her. He was upstairs. He could be the shooter."

"Maybe we got a break." Captain Sutter issued orders on her radio. Then she motioned for Bear to follow her. "Let's go speak with Rita."

I followed Bear and the captain to the kitchen. Another deputy stood at a large table cluttered with steaming chafing dishes of food. A young Hispanic girl wearing a white catering jacket was seated at the table. Her dark eyes went big and round when we walked up. She was young-like she should have been studying for high school exams. She was pretty, too, innocent and scared to death. Her eyes darted between Captain Sutter and Bear and her hands trembled on the table.

"h.e.l.lo, Rita," Captain Sutter said, dismissing the deputy with a nod. "I'm Captain Sutter. This is Detective Braddock. Please tell us again what you saw?"

Rita's voice quivered as she replayed the events-adding a few scattered details from what the deputy had told us in the sitting room. Her voice was low and shy-her heavy Spanish accent and tattered nerves made it difficult to follow at times. She ended with, "Si, this man was a big man. Older but not old, you know? He wear round gla.s.ses and look very important, very smart, you know? He very nice. Very handsome, too." She blushed and looked down at the table. "He smile when we serve him. He say thank you. Not many do here tonight."

Bear asked, "Do you know his name?"

"No, but the important lady-Professor Tucker, I think-does. He danced with her. She knows."

Every red-blooded man at the gala had danced with my Angel. Beauty was a curse. I had the same problem when I was alive-it was difficult, really.

"Okay, but, can you point him out to us?" Bear asked. "I promise you won't be in any danger. We'll walk around the rooms-you and me. When you see him, tell me. I'll take it from there."

Rita looked down and started shaking her head. "No, no. I cannot. The deputy say he might be the killer. I no want him to see me."

I lay my hand on Rita's and whispered, "Rita, it'll be all right. You can trust Bear. He's a good man."

She didn't budge-not even to pull her hand away. Her face softened as she stared at her hand. A faint, uncertain smile blossomed.

"Rita, I promise." I gave her hand a squeeze. "Trust him."

Her head stopped shaking and she looked up at Bear. "Si, I will go with you."

"Good girl, Rita. I promise, you'll-"

"We found it!" Spence ran into the room and held up a clear plastic evidence bag with a heavy object inside. "Got it, Cap."

The murder weapon.

"Cap, we found this upstairs." Spence pointed to the light-framed, .22-caliber pistol inside the evidence bag. He turned the bag over and tapped the over-sized barrel through the plastic. "It's got a homemade silencer and it's been fired-several rounds missing from the mag."