She led them through the house and into a book-lined library. She closed the doors behind them and indicated seats. They quickly sat down on a small couch.
She sat down across from them.
“Well?” she said, staring at him.
He said, “Thanks for agreeing to see us now.”
“Five minutes,” she said. “Then I have a meeting I need to get to. An important one.”
Decker cleared his throat. The questioning would have to be delicate. It was hard because his preferred approach was to figuratively grab a suspect by the neck with a line of queries.
“We’re running down some leads and it occurred to us that your father might have been framed.”
Gardiner sat back and looked coolly at him. “So you intimated on your last visit. And I told you that you were barking up the wrong tree, if you remember.”
“By the way, when I left here to drive back to Burlington after speaking with you before, someone tried to kill me.”
She sat up, looking genuinely shocked. “I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with that.”
“No, not at all. I just wanted you to know because you may want to be on your guard.”
“Thank you for your warning. But I carry a gun with me when I’m out.”
“Really, why is that?”
“Because I’m wealthy, Agent Decker. And people who aren’t want to take things away from you. I know that better than most, having once been on the other side of the glass looking in.”
“Have you had problems with that in the past?”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with your investigation.” She tapped her watch. “And the clock is running on your time to question me.”
Decker plunged in. “There is a substantial time discrepancy in what happened thirteen years ago. That has changed my understanding of the case.”
“What time discrepancy? And why didn’t someone see it back then?”
“It was just overlooked. But the time of the victims’ deaths and the 911 call to police? It doesn’t make sense.”
She sat back. “All right. I guess I’ll take your word for that. But why would that cause you to come to see me?”
“Your father had scratches on his arms. The police concluded that those scratches were caused by Abigail Richards fighting for her life while your father strangled her.”
“Do we really have to go through this?” she said irritably.
“When your father was arrested, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket over it.”
“So what?”
“If he was wearing that while attacking Abigail some hours earlier, how could she have scratched his arms and gotten his DNA under her skin? Her nails wouldn’t have penetrated his clothing, even if she did manage to somehow break the skin. There would have been no transfer of DNA.”
“I’m not a detective, so I don’t know. Maybe he changed clothes between the time of the attack and when he was picked up.”
“But he hadn’t been home.”
“That I know of. I told you before, I was probably high.”
“It was rainy and chilly that night. I doubt he would have been wearing a short-sleeved shirt.”
Gardiner was looking at her watch. “Okay, but isn’t that beside the point? His DNA was found under her nails. That came out at the trial.”
“Which leads me to this question. Can you think of anyone who would want to frame your father?”
“Frame him? How? By killing four people that he didn’t even know? By putting his fingerprints and DNA at the crime scene? My father wasn’t that important, Agent Decker. Why would anyone waste time incriminating him?”
“I take that as a no?”
She didn’t bother to answer.
“Your father said the scrapes on his arms were from when he fell down, not from Abigail’s fingernails.”
“But again, his DNA was found under her nails. Isn’t that conclusive?”
“We were also thinking that if your father was innocent, he could have raised any number of defenses, implicated other people. For instance, he could have said that another person had scratched his arms. And that that person had used the DNA from under their nails to plant under Abigail’s fingernails.”
Decker sat back slightly. This was the moment of truth.
Gardiner was sharp enough, he knew, to realize the implications of his question.
But she surprised him. “After my father lost his job, he started hanging around a bad lot, Agent Decker.”
“That never came out at the trial.”
“Well, he did. He was desperate for money. For all I know, he started committing crimes but was never caught until the murders. As I told you before, he did whatever he could to get money for my mother’s pain medications. So maybe he was in a fight and got the injuries that way. He probably wouldn’t tell anyone that, because he was afraid it might incriminate him, or the person might do him harm if he did tell the authorities.”
Mars said incredulously, “He was on trial for murder. How much more danger could he be in?”
Gardiner didn’t even deign to look at him. She kept her gaze on Decker. “He might have been trying to protect my mother and me. If he talked, his ‘associates’ might harm us.”
It was at that moment that Decker realized he had seriously underestimated Mitzi Gardiner.
“That’s an interesting theory,” he said.
“Really?” she said. “I would think it was the only theory that would adequately answer your question.” She looked at her watch again. “Well, time’s up.”
“And if we have any more questions?” said Decker.
“You can ask someone else for answers.”
She walked out of the room, leaving them there.
A few moments later they heard a door open and close. After that, a garage door cranked up and a car drove out. From the window, they watched her drive down to the gate in a silver Porsche SUV. The gate opened, and a few moments later she was gone.
“Gentlemen?”
They turned to see a woman in a maid’s uniform. “Mrs. Gardiner asked me to show you out.”
As they left the house Mars said, “We just got our asses handed to us, didn’t we?”
“Yes, we did.”
Chapter 36
It was six-thirty exactly when Decker and Mars pulled down the drive into the Richardses’ old home. Decker drove into the parking area behind the house and they got out. It wasn’t raining yet, but it was scheduled to start soon, and the dark clouds confirmed that prediction.
Mars looked up at the old house. “So this is where it all happened? And where you started your career as a homicide detective?”
“Apparently an inauspicious start,” commented Decker moodily.
“Hey, it was your first time. You think the first time I ran the ball at Texas I was as good as the last time I ran it? You learn from your mistakes, Decker, you know that.”
“Well, I made enough of them on this case to last a lifetime.”
He led Mars to the side door. This presumably was where David Katz had gone into the house. Decker had a key that had been given him by Natty. He unlocked the door and stepped into a utility room. Up a short set of steps was the kitchen.
“So we’re here to sort of walk through the crime scene?” said Mars.
Decker didn’t answer right away. He gazed around at the small room. The HVAC equipment was in here, as well as hookups for a washer and dryer.
“Why would Katz have pulled around here to come into the house?” He was really saying this to himself more than Mars.
“Well, maybe this was the way he always came in.”
“There’s no record that he was ever here before.”
Mars looked around the room. “Well, then I guess that is strange. Why come in here instead of through the front door?”