A Case of Deceit Read online

  “Dee, I don't know how I can help you any more than I have. Which isn't much,” Cynthia states as she lets me inside the house. We once again go into the living room.

  “I have something that belongs to you Cynthia,” I tell her as I hand her the envelope with the deed in it.

  Her expression is puzzled as she accepts the envelope, “What's this?”

  “It's the deed to the Wenner Estate. I'm sorry I opened it, but the people who were holding it gave it to me as I assured them I would deliver it to you personally. I needed to know if the deed was there,” I explain.

  Cynthia sits down and empties the envelope in her lap. She looks at the deed and says nothing. Next, she reads the note. Tears start to fall and she quietly wipes them away. God, I hope she isn't the fainting type, something tells me she isn't. She looks up at me and gives me a small smile.

  “My father and I had a good relationship. It wasn't always that way, I admit. Like any child, I went through my rebellious stage and we were estranged for a few years. Just before he died, we became close again. I did not approve of Angela and my father knew that. We just agreed to disagree about her.” She wipes the tears off her face. “Thank you for bringing me this.”

  “I noticed he signed over his part of the Wenner place but said something about the place being the cause of his death and hinted that it caused the death of others. Do you know anything about that?” I ask her as she fingers the small key that Tony left her. My curiosity is growing about the box and what may be in it, but I'll hold off on that, for now.

  “I didn't want my father to purchase the Wenner estate. He told me he was thinking of trying to get it when it came up for auction. Angela persuaded him otherwise. He told me it would make a nice spa with a nightclub and exclusive hotel. Everyone around here has heard the rumors of gold being buried somewhere on the grounds. People have tried to find it for years with no success.”

  Cynthia stands and pours us both a cup of coffee. She offers me mine and sits down again and takes a small sip from her own steaming cup.

  “He bought it anyway despite your objections,” I start the conversation again.

  “Yes. He and Angela went in it together and bought it. I wasn't happy about it, but it was his money. I think he would have tried even without Angela. It was always a dream of his to own his own nightclub. He just thought he was getting too old to deal with all the work involved,” Cynthia explains.

  “How do you feel about him signing the deed over to you? Why would he do that if he knew you didn't approve of him buying it in the first place? Why not just sign it over to Angela?”

  “I talked to him the night he was killed,” Cynthia looks over at me as she tells me this bombshell. I wait for her to continue.

  “He was going to try to buy Angela out. He told me he thought it was a mistake to go into business with her.”

  Oh, crap.

  I give a low whistle. Interesting information and if it is true, he either was killed before he told Angela, or Angela knew what Tony had in mind and failed to mention it to me. Either way, it doesn’t look like Angela has been honest with me. I do not like where this is heading.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Do you mind if I ask where you and Tony's favorite hiding place is?” I ask as I'm hoping whatever he left her might shed some more light on what happened to him.

  “When I was a child, my father and I had a game we would play. I used to pretend I was a spy and he was my informant. We would leave little notes or father would leave little toys and gadgets in a metal box under the stairs at home,” Cynthia tells me with a faraway look in her eyes. “I haven't thought about that hiding spot in years. If you don't know how to find it, it's almost impossible to see.”

  At Tony's house? If it was such a good hiding spot, maybe Sid and his men didn't find it. I need to get to Tony's place. I don't want Cynthia going to her father's house alone. Sid has been there twice that I know of, it won't be safe for her.

  I tell Cynthia what has been going on since I arrived in town. I tell her about Sid, the hole, her father's house being ransacked. The only information I leave out is who hired me. Something is nagging me about Angela and I don't want Cynthia to stop trusting me. Besides, I like Cynthia; she's a talented artist and a nice person. Nothing like Angela painted her to be. That's another thing bothering me. I hate being troubled this way. Makes me cranky.

  I ask Cynthia if she trusts me enough to let me retrieve what her father left her.

  “Yes, of course. You showed how honest you are by bringing me this envelope. I appreciate that. I don't want to run into this Sid character either. I know I should inform the police of all this, but they didn't believe me when I went to them insisting my father would never take his own life. I think whatever my father inadvertently got involved in got him killed. I want to find out who killed him. I believe you are the best way of doing this. I will help you all I can.”

  I'm glad she trusts me; I only hope I don't let her down. Tony seemed like a good man, good men don't deserve to be killed. Cynthia explains to me how to open the secret hiding spot. She hands me the key and I put it in the satchel with Tee. Time to call another taxi. This time, I'm going to the Hilton. I need my bike. Then it's off to Tony's house.

  I tell Cynthia goodbye and walk to the guard station in front. I need the exercise and the fresh air. Many questions still need answers on this case. While I wait for the taxi, I go over everything I know so far about this case. Which is precious little for my peace of mind.

  I know Tony was killed by someone other than himself. I know Angela is involved a lot more than she lets on. Billy is still a question mark. As far as there being gold on the Wenner estate, it's now becoming doubtful that there is or ever was any. Old man Wenner was an eccentric millionaire, but gold bullion would be hard to hide. That stuff weighs a ton.

  Is there something else everyone is after? There just might be, but I have no idea what it can be. Tony hinted in his note that others died because of the Wenner place. Maybe I need to hit the local library and do a bit of snooping. What did old man Wenner die from? Who else died that was involved with the estate? The library or the local newspaper would be my best sources of information.

  I choose the library. I can pick up a map of the town at the hotel. I'm sure Mr. Ellsworth will be delighted to find me one. First stop though is Tony's house and that secret hiding spot.

  In my present frame of mind I kind of hope I run into Sid and his boys. Nothing like a good workout to get rid of cranky feelings.

  ***********************************************************

  Once I'm at the Hilton, I manage to snag a nice detailed map of the town. Ellsworth isn't around, but his replacement was kind enough to direct me to a discreet corner of the lobby where they had maps and touristy type brochures on display.

  Next, I make a quick call to Fedora. He meets me down in the parking lot. I fill him in on what I want to do. He offers to go to the newspaper office and see what he can find out. Billy is still AWOL. I give him a passing thought. Right now, my mind is on the secret hiding spot and the library. In that order.

  Tee and I head for Tony's house. Fedora splits off and heads for the newspaper office. Fedora doesn’t like the idea of me going to Tony's alone, but he gave in once I explained to him that I doubt Sid would be there. They've searched the place twice now. I'm sure he is done searching it. If not, I’m ok with meeting up with him. I need to work out a few frustrations.

  I find Tony's house easy enough. I leave my bike on a side street and walk to the house. At this point, I'm taking no chances. Sid seems to turn up when I least expect him. I'm reasonably sure he won't this time, as only Fedora and I know I'm here.

  The house is twice the size of Cynthia's. A big rambling Victorian type home, with the wrap around porch. There are no vehicles around. It's quiet as I make my way up the front steps. With all the surrounding bushes and trees, I don't worry about neighbors spotting me.

  I try the fro
nt door and it opens easily. I slip inside, ready for anything. The place has a deserted feel to it. I sit Tee on the floor and let him explore. He'll let me know if anyone else shows up or if anyone is hiding here. There is plenty of light shining through the large windows. I take a quick look around.

  The house has lots of evidence of being ransacked. Drawers pulled out onto the floor. Pictures off the walls entirely or hanging crooked on the wall. Looks like Sid and his guys did a thorough job in here. Hope they didn't find the hiding spot. I walk to the stairway. It's in the middle of the hall and splits right and left once it reaches the second floor.

  I'm not interested in the second floor right now. I look at the bottom of the steps and see no small doorway and I even know what to look for, thanks to Cynthia. The wall looks just like any wall in the hallway. The wallpaper is a light gray with a slightly darker gray pattern. Now I'm positive Sid didn't find the secret room.

  The railings on the stairs are a light oak and carved in an intricate pattern. I slide my hand over the left newel post and count until I reach the third flower down. I push in and I hear a small click somewhere off to my right.

  I walk over to the side of the stairs and a small panel of the wall is slightly open. Yes! I grasp the edge and give it a tug. It opens silently. I reach my hand to the right and feel against the wall. Cynthia said there should be a small switch to turn on the light inside. Sure enough, right where she said it would be. A dim light bulb blinks on.

  The room is very small, just big enough for a young child. I barely fit inside. There are a few shelves built in under the steps. A perfect hiding place. I spot the metal box and grab it. I step out of the claustrophobic room and shut the door. Even standing right in front of it and knowing there is a door, it's impossible to see a seam. Clever artisanship.

  I dig the key out of the satchel and fit it in the lock of the metal box. Inside the box are several sheets of paper and another key. Tony and Cynthia take this spy game seriously. I sit on the steps and set the metal box beside me. I read the sheets of paper.

  The first sheet of paper is a copy of Tony's will. It has its usual legalese jargon, but the nitty-gritty is Tony left everything to Cynthia. No mention of Angela at all.

  The second piece of paper is a personal letter to Cynthia. I set it aside with the will. The third and last piece of paper I pick up and start to read. I do a quick scan, then go back and read it again slowly.

  Ah, crap.

  Things just got a lot more interesting. I need to get to the library. At least now, thanks to this letter of Tony's I have a lot better idea what to look for. I call for Tee and put him in the satchel along with the stuff from the box. Just as we start to leave, the front door comes crashing open.

  “This is the Ashville police department! Put your hands up!”

  Ah, double crap.

  A couple of young cops are looking at me with guns drawn. I put my hands up. I do not want to be shot accidentally by a rookie. I hear footsteps behind them and the two cops move aside for whoever is coming.

  In strolls a man in a bad brown colored suit. He's chewing on a toothpick and has his hands in his pants pockets. I spot the detective shield hanging from his belt and I almost laugh as he looks like a caricature of every bad detective I've read about. Then I spot his eyes and the thought of laughing dies. Dark brown with sparks of meanness look back at me emotionless. He moves the wooden stick to the side of his mouth. My instincts tell me to tread carefully.

  “Well, well, what do we have here? A little stealing mouse it looks like to me.” Obviously, he likes to answer his own questions too.

  “I'm not stealing,” I state. “I have permission to be here.”

  “Really? Permission from a dead man? How enterprising of you.” He sneers as he walks past me.

  I turn to face him, still with my hands in the air. I don't like the thought of him being behind me. Gives me the willies.

  His voice is gravelly as if he smokes three packs of cigarettes a day. He smells like it too. He looks around the room. Then he turns to face me again.

  “What did you steal, little mouse? From the shape of the place you wanted something pretty bad.”

  Little mouse? Never in my thirty-two years of living did anyone consider me a mouse, much less little. I'm five foot ten, not exactly little mouse material.

  “I didn't tear the place up. It was this way when I got here.”

  I don't tell him about Sid. I don't think he would care anyway. I lower my hands slowly down to my side.

  “I have permission from the owner’s daughter, Cynthia Bandoni.”

  “Now why would Cynthia Bandoni send you here? Why not come herself? Let me see what you got in the bag.”

  He sticks out his hand and wiggles his fingers. For a half second, I think about refusing. He wiggles his fingers again. Damn it. I really don't like this guy.

  I grab Tee from the satchel and hand it over to him. He rifles through it and comes up with my Private Detective ID card.

  “Private eye?” He looks me up and down. “You don't look like one to me.”

  He hands my ID to one of the rookies. “Call it in, see if she's legit.” The rookie leaves.

  The other one keeps his gun aimed at me. The detective searches the bag again. He comes up with the letters from the metal box.

  “What do we have here? Now, why would you steal these?”

  He reads the will and the letters. His mean eyes glance up at me. I like that I'm a few inches taller than he is. Somehow, that makes me feel better. He folds the letters up and sticks them in his suit coat pocket.

  “I didn't steal them,” I state again. “I picked them up for Cynthia and was on my way to give them to her. You can call her; she'll tell you it's true.”

  “Oh, I'll call her. Later,” he says as he digs out a cigarette from his other pocket and lights it.

  Blowing smoke in my direction, he walks around me again. I turn to keep him in sight. He motions for the rookie to put his gun away.

  “I should arrest you for trespassing and robbery,” he tells me as he blows a mouthful of smoke into my face. I refuse to react.

  The cop that went to check out my credentials returns. “She's a PI alright. The license is up to date. She is who she says she is, Detective Ward.” He hands my ID to the detective.

  Ward continues to stare at me. I'm not sure what he wants me to do. Something so he can arrest me? I'm not that stupid.

  Detective Ward signals the other men to leave. After they do, he steps up to me until his face is as close to mine as can be without touching. I stare down at him. I refuse to back up. He smiles, but it’s a smile meant to intimidate not reassure. As his eyes stare into mine, I tense, ready for anything.

  “Let me give you a piece of advice, little mouse. Go home. Leave things to the real cops. If I find you here again, I will arrest you. You might even resist arrest. You look like the type that would. I would enjoy that,” he pauses to let that sink in.

  “There is nothing here for you. Ms. Bandoni is obviously upset that her old dad would put a bullet in his own head. Shit happens.”

  I keep my mouth shut. It's hard, but I do it. Ward steps back, turns and walks to the door. He turns toward me again, pats his pocket where the papers now reside, takes his cigarette and drops it on the floor in the doorway. He takes the toe of his scuffed black shoe and grinds it into the wood floor. He gives me one more tough guy look, turns, and walks away.

  Tee gives a little whine and I realize I'm squeezing him a bit too tight. I let the tension ease from my body and loosen my hold on the little guy.

  “Sorry, buddy.”

  I wait a few minutes, breathe deep, pick up Tee's satchel, and gently put him inside. I walk over to the door, reach down, pick up Ward’s cigarette butt, and put it in a side panel of the satchel. I see the cigarette left a burn on the wood floor.

  I don't think I've seen the last of Detective Ward and his hard eyes because I am not leaving town and I'm going to find out
who killed Tony.

  I have a feeling deep in my gut that I might have already met him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I find Ashville library, a picturesque building sitting among huge oak trees. I walk up three cement stairs and tell Tee to lay low. That's his signal to keep his head inside the satchel. Somehow, I don't think the personal at the library will believe he's an aide dog.

  The big glass doors swish closed behind me as I walk inside. That special smell that comes from books greets my nose. Ink on paper, I love that smell. I walk to the circular desk that resides in the middle of the main floor. A youngish man with black-rim glasses and stylish peeked black hair greets me with a friendly smile.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yeah, could you tell me where you have your history books on the city of Ashville and surrounding areas?”

  “Of course. Is there anything in particular, you looking for? We have books of the early days of Ashville and we have books on the founding fathers,” the young man states as he pushes his glasses higher up his nose.

  “Anything on the Wenner Estate? Or the owner?”

  “Sylvester Wenner? Oh, I'm sure we do, as he was a very colorful character in his time. They say he hid gold somewhere on his estate, although I'm doubtful he did.”

  He walks around the desk and motions me to follow him. I notice a few college age people sitting at a bank of computers against one wall. Otherwise, the place seems empty. I’m enjoying the quiet atmosphere after the last few days of my stay here in Ashville.

  He leads me to a section that has a small sign in block letters, 'Ashville History'. Just what I was looking for. There are more books than I thought there would be.

  “My name is Justin,” the bookish man holds his hand out towards me.