Chapter fifty-two
The burly man looked around at the other pricey homes in the Georgetown neighborhood. Fiftyish with pale skin and a neatly trimmed mustache, the man hitched up his pants, tucked his shirt in, and rang the bell next to the front door.
Alicia Crane opened the door, looking anxious and tired.
“Yes?”
“Alicia Crane?”
“Yes.”
The man flashed his identification. “Hank Rollins, homicide detective, Fairfax County, Virginia.”
Alicia stared at the man’s photo and the badge affixed to it. “I’m not sure—”
“Are you an acquaintance of Thomas Donovan?”
Alicia closed her eyes and bit her lip on the inside. When she reopened her eyes she said, “Yes.”
Rollins rubbed his hands together. “Ma’am, I’ve got some questions to ask you. We can either do it down at the station or you can ask me in before I freeze to death, it’s your call.”
Alicia immediately opened the door. “Of course, I’m sorry.” She led him down the hallway to the living room. After settling him down on the sofa she asked him if he wanted coffee.
“That’d be great, yes, ma’am.”
As soon as she left the room, Rollins lurched to his feet and looked around the room. One item commanded his immediate attention. The photo of Donovan, his arm around Alicia Crane. It looked to be of recent vintage. They both looked extremely happy.
Rollins was holding the photo in his hands when Alicia walked back in carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and some creamer and two blue packets of Equal.
She lowered the tray to the coffee table. “I couldn’t find the sugar. The housekeeper ran an errand. She’ll be back in about an hour and I don’t usually—” Her eyes caught the photo.
“May I have that?” she asked. She set down the tray and held out her hand.
Rollins quickly passed the photo over and returned to his seat. “I’ll get to the point, Ms. Crane. You’ve read the newspaper, I assume?”
“You mean that pack of lies.” Her eyes flashed for an instant.
“Well, I’ll agree that it’s all largely speculation at this time; however, there’s a lot of things pointing toward Thomas Donovan having killed Roberta Reynolds.”
“His fingerprints and his gun?”
“It’s an active homicide investigation, Ms. Crane, so I can’t really go into it with you, but, yes, things like that.”
“Thomas wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Rollins shifted his bulk around, picked up a cup of coffee, and stirred some cream into it. He tasted the result and then poured the contents of an Equal pack into the cup before he resumed speaking. “But he did go visit Roberta Reynolds.”
Alicia crossed her arms and glared at him. “Did he?”
“He never mentioned it to you, that he was going to meet with her?”
“He told me nothing.”
Rollins pondered this for a moment. “Ma’am, we got your name off Donovan’s answering machine at his apartment. You sounded upset, said what he was working on was dangerous.” Alicia didn’t take the bait. “Also his place had been ransacked, all his records, files, everything gone.”
Alicia started to shake, finally steadying herself by grasping the arm of the chair she was sitting in.
“Ms. Crane, you might want to have some of that coffee. You don’t look too good.”
“I’m all right.” However, she did raise the cup and take several nervous sips.
“Well, if, as you say, someone went through Thomas’s apartment, then there must be someone else involved. You should focus your efforts on apprehending that person.”
“I’m not arguing with you on that point, but I have to have something to go on. I guess I don’t have to tell you that Ms. Reynolds was a very prominent member of the community and we’re getting a lot of heat to find her killer, pronto. Now I’ve already talked to someone at the Trib. He told me Donovan was working on a story having to do with lottery winners. And Roberta Reynolds was one of those winners. Now, I’m not a reporter, but when you’re talking that kind of money, maybe somebody would have a motive for murder.”
Alicia smiled for an instant.
“Something you want to tell me?”
Alicia returned to her prim manner and shook her head.
“Ms. Crane, I’ve been working homicide since my youngest was born and now he’s got his own kids. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re holding out on me and I’d like to know why. Murder isn’t something you want to screw around with.” He looked at the elegant room. “Murderers and those who assist murderers don’t end up in places nearly as nice as this one.”
Alicia’s eyes bulged at him. “What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying a damn thing. I came here looking for facts. I listened to your voice on Donovan’s answering machine. That voice told me two things: First, you were scared for him; second, you knew exactly why you were scared for him.”
Alicia kneaded and kneaded her lap with her fisted hands. She closed and opened her eyes several times. Rollins waited patiently while she went through her decision-making process.
When she started speaking it was in quick bursts. Rollins whipped out his notebook and scribbled.
“Thomas had initially started investigating the lottery because he was convinced that several top money management firms were taking the winners’ money and either losing it or charging such huge commissions, churning, he called it, that the winners were left with nothing. He also hated the government for, in essence, leaving these poor people exposed to all of that. And then so many of them not understanding how to handle their taxes, and then the IRS coming in and taking everything back. And more. Leaving them with nothing.”
“How did he arrive at that conclusion?”
“Bankruptcies,” she said simply. “All these people were winning all this money and then they were declaring bankruptcy.”
Rollins scratched his head. “Well, I’ve read about that from time to time. I always chalked it up to the winners’ not being money savvy. You know, spend everything they get, forget to pay taxes, that kind of stuff, like you said. Pretty soon, you can work your way right through all those winnings. Hell, I’d probably do the same thing, just go nuts.”
“Well, Thomas didn’t think that was all there was to it. But then he discovered something else.” She took another sip of coffee, her face coloring prettily as she recalled Thomas Donovan’s cleverness.
“Which was?” Rollins prodded.
“Which was the fact that twelve lottery winners in a row didn’t declare bankruptcy.”
“So?”
“So Thomas’s research went back many years. In all that time the ratio of winners to bankrupt was completely consistent. Then, right in the middle of this consistency were twelve who didn’t. Not only didn’t they declare bankruptcy but they grew far wealthier.”
Rollins rubbed his chin, unconvinced. “I’m still not seeing a story here.”
“Thomas wasn’t clear in his mind about that yet. But he was getting closer. He called me regularly from the road to let me know how things were going, what he had found out. That’s why I was so worried when I hadn’t heard from him.”
Rollins looked at his notebook. “Right. You mentioned danger in your phone message.”
“Thomas tracked down one of the twelve lottery winners.” Alicia paused and struggled to remember the name. “LuAnn somebody. Tyler, that’s right, LuAnn Tyler. He said she was charged with murdering somebody right before she won the lottery and then she disappeared. He tracked her down, partly through her tax records. He went to visit her.”