The chief’s eyes went from Moran to Goddard. “What’s he talking about?”
The detective stared at Moran harshly but didn’t speak. Huress must have seen him enter the Barner house and told Moran.
Moran just shook his head. “And Chief is it true that Reid is still in city jail? Why? What is he, some celebrity? Why did no one inform me? I want him transferred to the county dungeon today.”
“He’s already scheduled for transfer today, or maybe Monday,” the chief answered. “The judge had put a hold it. I thought you knew.”
Moran raised his voice, “Is the judge also a member of the Sandy Reid fan club? Goddamn it, the whole place is going to hell.”
“Can’t you let Reid bond?” the chief said. “That might pacify the sister and we could get out in front of this negative story.”
“And replace him in jail with whom?” Moran answered. “We can’t say that all at once we realized the evidence we presented at the hearing wasn’t any good. I’d look like a fool.”
Goddard said, “You got in front of the cameras on day one saying Reid was unquestionably guilty. You left us no wiggle room.”
“That’s enough, Goddard. You were strutting around as well. The town demanded a suspect, and we needed someone in jail to keep the heat off.”
“You’d keep an innocent man locked up to keep from being uncomfortable?”
“It’s called strategy. So, now you believe Reid is innocent?”
“Okay, leave him in jail. I hope CNN gets your name right.”
“No.” Moran was firm. “Reid stays on the hook until we find a better suspect. What about the Tampa connection, the Cuban-Americans?”
“They had a muscle guy capable of murder. He’s the one who put Sandy Reid in the hospital.”
“I like him already.” Moran snickered. “Maybe we can get him to do it again.”
“But he was crude,” Goddard said, “and the Towson killing required some finesse. Coincidentally, he was murdered last week by Towson’s lover.”
Moran leaned forward. “What’s this?”
“Goddard, stop it,” the chief said. “He wasn’t murdered. We've no evidence to support that.”
“Wait, let’s think about that,” Moran said. “The Cubans send the bad guy out to kill Towson. Towson's lover doesn’t like that so she kills the bad guy. That would be the Cuban Mafia connection.”
“Who said anything about a Cuban Mafia?” the chief asked.
“No one,” Goddard said. “As of right now, the Cuban-American involvement seems limited to a campaign dirty trick.”
“That’s because you’ve a small unimaginative mind. Get on that Cuban-American angle, Goddard.”
Goddard nodded although he had no idea how to do it. “This is new: I spoke to the insurance investigator for Concord Life, they insured Towson. The investigator needed copies of our reports for the claim. He had information from Towson’s attorney handling the estate.”
The chief broke in, “Most of the money and securities goes into a trust for some charity. Towson owned a condo in Palm Beach, and it goes to a lady friend down there. His place here and most of his personal property goes to his Nebraska brother, although he did make some special bequests for a few individuals. He left some antique dishes to Tammy Jerold. She says give them to charity as well.”
“You’re boring me. What about the life insurance?”
“Loraine is the beneficiary. When they divorced, she took out a huge policy on Towson for her support if the alimony stopped because of his death. The investigator wouldn’t say how much the policy would pay. I asked if it’s over a million and he said, oooh yeah!”
“So, you’re saying take another look at Loraine?”
“She has several million motives,” Goddard replied.
She wasn’t the big fish that Moran was hoping for, but would be someone to replace Reid. “What’s her alibi?”
Goddard answered, “She was seen at the museum by one guard around three and by a second guard around five, but we don’t know if she left in between, which happens to be the time of the murder. And she had the means. Remember Reid spoke of seeing a gun at the motel.”
“We’re going in circles here. Reid must have been involved. He ran all over town that day. Either he’s a hit man, or Loraine romanced him into shooting Towson.”
“A hit man wouldn’t show up at a sophisticated party and get involved with some woman,” Goddard explained. “And if Reid is in love why did he make accusations against Loraine from the start?”
The chief said, “I still say offer to let Reid out on bail if the sister agrees to stay out of the investigation and not talk to the media. Then we keep investigating both of them.”
Moran was silent for a moment and then slammed his fist on the table. “No! It’s not going to be that way. I’m not going into court with some penny-ante tale about a woman who shoots her ex for life insurance. It's corny and it's peanuts. The national media won’t even bother to cover it.”
“Could be it is that simple,” Goddard said.
“Reid is perfect.” Moran sat back with a self-satisfied smile. “There’s enough here to completely confuse the jurors. He’ll look pathetic on the stand. The jury pool around here hates him to start with. Should be easy to get a conviction. I’ve waited too long for a case like this. Keep digging. We’re going ahead with Reid.”
Goddard was astonished to hear Moran speak so bluntly in front of them. “This has nothing to do with justice. This isn’t why I became a cop.”
“What about the newspaper disclosures coming out?” the chief asked. “The media will tear us up. The phones will ring and the TV cameras will be back in town unless we come up with some way to counteract the new speculation.”
Moran said, “The sister is going back to the paper and retract everything. She’ll tell them she made it all up. They won’t dare print anything with that much uncertainty facing them. That will get this case back on track.”
“She’ll tell you to go to hell,” Goddard said, “and if you push her too hard, you’re setting fire to dynamite.”
“We’ll see about that. She’s just one little sister.”
“One deadly sister,” Goddard corrected.
“You don’t mean she’s armed?”
“I don’t know. Is a pit bull armed?”
“I want to see you outside.” The chief started to protest but Moran motioned him to stay where he was. In the hall Moran demanded, “Go drag that sister out of your bed and bring her to my office at one o’clock.”
“What are you doing? It’s Sunday.”
“Just do it. Go get her. Don’t tell her what for, make it seem mysterious, ominous. Tell her she isn’t technically under arrest, but had better show up. However you cops do it. Whatever it takes to unnerve her. I want her to sweat. I want to be face to face with the little bitch who’s out there screwing up my prosecution. That’ll be the end of her interference. You’re going to do this, Goddard, understand?”
“That’s about what you had Huress do and it backfired, remember? I won’t be a part of anything such as that.”
“I was right about you! I know you’ve been meeting with her. Just can’t keep your hands off that cute little body, huh.”
“I haven’t touched her. I’d never jeopardize the investigation.”
“Word is she’s letting you hit it.”
“Go to hell.”
“Huress is telling everyone she was bobbing pretty good in his truck before they were interrupted.”
Goddard’s hand struck out and grabbed Moran by the knot in his tie. When he twisted his fist, Moran’s mouth gaped open in a soundless choke, his eyes widened, and his face turned white. Goddard said, “You idiot, in another minute she would have handed Huress his head.” He let Moran go with a hard push against the wall, and walked away.