Gumshoe Ghost Mystery: Dying for the Past Part 6

"Good." Bear examined the gun through the plastic. "Where did you find this? In one of the rooms?"

"Yes," Spence said. "The first room at the top of the stairs-just where we thought the shooter had shot Grecco from. It was tucked between the mattress and box spring; jammed inside real good."

Captain said, "Show me, Spence. Bear, take Rita for a stroll."

"Okay, Cap." Bear held his hand out for Rita's. "You ready?"

Rita closed her eyes and I squeezed her hand again. "It's all right, Rita."

"Si, Detective Bear." The thin smile widened and she looked up at him, taking his hand. "I not afraid anymore."

Five minutes later, we finished looking over the guests in the sitting room, den, dining room, and two other large rooms off the main hall. Rita was shy and timid, but Bear eased her along with a soft voice and gentle words. When we stopped at the lounge-I expected to find Vincent Calaprese and the delectable Sa.s.sy-but only one guest was inside, sitting at the far end of the bar talking on a cell phone.

At the doorway, Rita tensed and withdrew behind Bear.

"Rita?" Bear turned and put his hand on her shoulder. "Is it him?"

She didn't respond. She didn't have to. The man speaking on the cell phone looked up and gave Bear a quick wave. When he did, Rita crushed tighter against Bear.

"Dear G.o.d, no," Bear whispered. "Are you sure, Rita?"

Her face paled and her eyes grew big. She was sure.

The man sitting across the room from us was tall with an athletic build and silver temples. He wore round, wireframe eyegla.s.ses and his appearance was, as Rita had described, older but not old-most called him distinguished.

Distinguished. Yes, distinguished is the right word. In fact, I had called him that on many occasions when describing Angel's mentor, former guardian, and uncle.

I groaned and bit my lip. "Bear, there's a rational explanation-you know there is. We've known him for years. He just about raised Angel, for Christ's sake. He's no killer. No way."

Without a word, Bear motioned for a deputy in the hall and sent Rita back to the kitchen. Then he cursed and went to have a chat with Professor Andre Cartier.

fourteen.

"This is absurd-absolutely absurd." Andre Cartier jumped up from his bar stool. "Angela will vouch for me. And of all people, Bear, you cannot believe I killed anyone?"

"Just relax, Andre. It's my job." He pointed at the bar stool and waited for Andre to sit back down. "Funny, a few months ago you thought I was a killer. Remember?"

"Touche," I said.

Andre sat brooding.

After my murder, vile rumors swirled about Bear and Angel-the kind of rumors that always get stirred up when a dead guy leaves behind a best friend and a beautiful wife. The kind of rumors that hurt. And when the whispers started, Andre Cartier had his doubts, too.

Funny how indignation has no memory.

"Bear, you know me," he said. "You've got it all wrong."

"I hope so, Andre," Bear said, sliding onto a bar stool beside him. "A witness saw you come downstairs just after the shooting."

"And tell us what you know of Stephanos Grecco." Captain Sutter said, standing beside Bear with the evidence bag containing the .22 pistol. "Take your time and get it right."

"I didn't kill anyone." Andre exchanged looks-glares-with Bear and Captain Sutter. "Ask Angela, she can vouch for me."

"All night?" Captain Sutter asked. "She can attest to where you were every moment, Professor Cartier?"

"No, but certainly you remember me, Captain, and-"

"Yes, I do remember you. I know quite a lot about you. But it doesn't change the fact a witness saw you coming downstairs after the shooting."

"No, of course not, I'm sorry." Andre closed his eyes and took a deep, forced breath. "And of course Angela cannot say where I was all night. I doubt any of the guests-including myself-can restate our exact whereabouts after seeing Steph murdered. After all-"

"Steph?" Bear's eyebrows rose. "Are you two friends?"

"He introduced himself to me as 'Steph.'" Andre's face fell. "Come on, Bear. You've known me for years. I'm no murderer."

Captain Sutter set the evidence bag on the bar between them. "Then explain this."

"It's not mine. I went upstairs to look around. I've been here once before-helping Angela prepare for this gala. The house intrigues me. A lot of the guests were upstairs during the night. For G.o.d's sake, I saw Angel up there, too."

"But not at the moment Grecco was shot." Captain Sutter wasn't asking a question.

"Bad timing, I guess."

"You think?" Bear glanced at Captain Sutter but said to Andre, "Did you see anyone up there?"

Andre thought for a moment. He frowned. "No, but I heard someone at the other end of the main hallway. I was in the east wing looking at some antiques in the hall. When I heard the commotion downstairs, I ran down the servant's stairs."

"Why use the servant stairs?" Bear asked.

"They were closer."

I said, "Makes sense."

"And you didn't see anyone?" Captain Sutter asked. "And you claim to have heard someone?"

"Claim?" Andre started to rise again but Captain Sutter's eyes stopped him. His face tightened and his chin rose. "I did hear something, Captain. A door closed, I think, and someone was walking in the hall."

I said, "Bear, Rita may have seen him but it doesn't prove anything. There's two hundred people here. A lot of them weren't in the ballroom when Grecco was killed."

The lounge doors swung open and Angel pushed her way past the uniformed deputy at the door. She strode up to us and confronted Captain Sutter.

"You've got to be kidding me! Andre had nothing to do with this."

"Angela, please." Bear patted the air. "Go back to your guests and let us do our jobs."

"Then do them. Go find the killer because he's not in this room."

Bear glanced at Captain Sutter and the telegraph starting tapping away between them again. His mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed-Captain Sutter's temples did the rumba.

"So, Professor Cartier," Captain Sutter leaned forward with an edge to her voice. "Anything we need to know? Anything at all?"

I always had a hard time reading the good Captain. Maybe it was because she played her cards close or because she was a chameleon. Or, maybe it was because she was a woman who could out-cop any of us on the detective squad. Right now, though, it was easy to read her-she was not convinced-guilt or innocence-about Andre Cartier. None of us were.

None but Angel.

I said to Angel, "It'll be all right, Angel. I'll look after Andre. I promise."

"You can't keep that promise," she said. When Captain Sutter glanced at her, she said to Andre. "Tell them, Andre. Tell them everything."

"I don't know anything, Captain, nothing at all."

"All right then," Captain Sutter tapped the bar. "Tell us about Stephanos and Bonnie Grecco."

"I just met the Greccos tonight. I've never heard of them, although Stephanos claims to be from the Was.h.i.+ngton circuit."

"DC is a big city." Captain Sutter's voice was curt and direct. "Do you know everyone?"

Andre bristled. "Of course not, Captain. But I do know most in the philanthropic circuit. He claims to be an antique aficionado. I do many fundraisers throughout the year, and I've never come across him."

"What about Bonnie Grecco?"

Andre looked at Angel. "I was just introduced to Bonnie Grecco tonight."

"Oh, come now, Captain. Please." Angel stepped forward. "You cannot think he had anything to do with all this. I was up on the second floor tonight, too. Does being there make me a suspect?"

"I don't know, does it?" Their eyes met and Captain Sutter shrugged. "I'm sorry. But, you weren't up near the balcony room seconds before the shot was fired. He was."

"No, I wasn't," Andre said. "I was on the other end of the house."

"You see? He wasn't there. And, you don't know who else might have been up there. Do you?"

"A murderer won't admit to being there, now will he?"

I said, "Easy, Angel. I'm with you on Andre, but the captain is just-"

"Doing her job." Angel folded her arms and stared daggers at the floor. "I understand."

Andre Cartier was a lot of things. He was a professor of history with two doctorates-American History and Anthropology. He was a big shot with the Was.h.i.+ngton Smithsonian. More importantly, though, he was Angel's uncle and he'd raised her since she was very young. A tragic accident took both her parents when she was a teenager. He'd helped her through the loss of her mom and dad, and then twenty-one years later, the loss of her husband-me. Now, after more than two decades of mentoring, the roles were reversed.

"Bear, Captain, listen to me." Andre held up his hands. "I have never seen this gun before. I a.s.sure you it is not mine. I did not kill Stephanos Grecco. I have not killed anyone in years."

"What?" Captain Sutter c.o.c.ked her head. "Excuse me?"

"Viet Nam, Captain." Andre frowned. "I was in the war."

"So you can handle a weapon?" she asked.

"Of course I can. But it's been years."

"Interesting."

"And Bonnie?" Bear asked. "You never heard of her either, right?"

"No, Detective. I have not heard of Bonnie Grecco before this evening."

I reached out and touched Andre's shoulder, trying to get inside his head. Sometimes, touching objects or people gave me a kind of clairvoyance. Sometimes, a touch showed me what the living couldn't-lost memories, lost lives, even secreted truths buried deep. Often, the simple touch showed me things they didn't want others to know, too.

And sometimes, touching didn't give diddly.

This was one of those times.

Andre was full of irritation and angst and it started bubbling out. His eyes were tired; his face taunt and defensive. His posture recoiled and was ready for flight. But, I guess if the roles were reversed and the cops suspected me a killer, I'd be worried, too.

Yet, Andre's gruffness wasn't quite it. It was something else. Something ... hidden. He said he'd just met Bonnie and Stephanos tonight. Yet, when he said her name, he seemed, well, odd, perhaps evasive, maybe even worried. When Bear mentioned her name to him for the first time, Andre's emotions pegged my spookmeter into the danger-danger zone. Can a dance and champagne do all that in one night?

Yes, of course it could. How else could anyone explain how the gorgeous and talented Dr. Angela Hill-Tucker was married to me? She once used champagne and dancing to lure me in. Then, I allowed her to fall in love with me.

"Angel, there's something about Bonnie troubling Andre. Troubling him bad," I said. "But I still think Andre is innocent."

"Of course he's innocent." She glanced at Bear. "You believe he is, Bear, right?"

He nodded. "We still have to follow the evidence, Angela."

I said, "Anyone could have put the gun under the bedroom mattress. We have to finish interviewing all the guests and see who else was upstairs at the time of the shooting."

She repeated me and added, "I'll speak with my guests and try to calm them a little longer. But they need to go home."

"Yeah, okay Angela." Captain Sutter looked at Andre. "Professor, mind if we run a gunshot residue test on you?"

"Not at all. Please go right ahead. Do whatever you must."

"Good. And we'd like to check your car, too." Captain Sutter threw a thumb over her shoulder at a deputy standing there. "Right now."

"Of course. Since I don't think 'no' will stop you."

"It won't." She put her hand out. "Your car keys please."

"One moment." Andre dug into his tuxedo pocket and handed her a slip of paper. "Here is my coat check. The keys are in the inside pocket of my raincoat."

Captain Sutter went to a deputy in the doorway, handed him the coat check, and gave him instructions. A moment later, the deputy returned with a long black raincoat and handed it to Andre.

As Andre slipped his arm into the coat, something fell out onto the floor.