Authors: Catherine Coulter
She nodded. She waved toward the insane wreckage in the street. “I’m not responsible, really, Officer. Someone pushed me.”
Mankins eyed her. He’d just finished a double shift, thankful to be on his way home when the call came in. He’d been only one block away, so he couldn’t ignore it. What was this about someone pushing her? “You sure you don’t need the hospital?”
“No, honestly, I’m okay. My brother’s an FBI agent. Please take me to him. He’s in the Hoover Building.”
“No can do. I’ve got to take you to the station, let you tell a detective what you told me. Who are you, sir? You know her?”
“He’s Rob Rasmussen. He was my boyfriend for a day until I found out today he was a liar. But he did save my life, pulled me back just in time.”
Or maybe, Officer Mankins thought, the lying ex-boyfriend had pushed her, then regretted it just in time to save her.
47
HENRY J. DALY BUILDING
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Griffin, Savich, and Sherlock were met by Detective Ben Raven in the lobby of the Daly Building. He led them through security and up to the third floor to his captain’s office.
Captain Juan Ramirez, built like a fireplug and stronger than most of the officers under him, looked up when three people appeared in his doorway. He nodded to Ben, rose. “Savich, Sherlock, good to see you. Ben said her brother was coming. That you?”
“Yes, Special Agent Griffin Hammersmith.”
He looked back at Savich. “What are you guys doing here?”
Savich shook Ramirez’s outstretched hand. “Good to see you, Juan. Griffin Hammersmith is in my unit. Griffin, this is Captain Ramirez.” Griffin stepped forward, stuck out his hand. He turned immediately to Delsey, pale as a death shroud, sitting on the edge of the captain’s ratty houndstooth sofa, looking straight ahead, as if studying the captain’s desk would keep her safe. Rob Rasmussen stood in the corner, staring at her.
“Delsey, sweetheart—”
Delsey blinked at Griffin’s voice, jumped up and ran into his arms, squeezed him tightly. “Someone shoved me into the street, right in
front of a black limo, Griffin. It wasn’t people pushing in behind, you know how that is— No, it was a hard shove, square in my back, hard enough to push me into the street. Rob said he didn’t see anyone shove me, simply saw me flying into the street and he managed to grab me and pull me back.” She gave Rob a brief nod.
Griffin continued to hold her as he looked over at Rob Rasmussen. He opened his mouth, but Sherlock beat him to it. “Were you with Delsey, Mr. Rasmussen?”
Rob looked at her, then fast down at his sneakered feet. “Well, no, not yet. I was trying to catch up to her. I called her but she hung up on me. I drove to Agent Hammersmith’s condo, saw her get into a taxi and followed. I wasn’t stalking her, really, I only wanted to talk to her, tell her that I wasn’t—”
“A lying jerk?” Delsey said, turning toward him, never leaving Griffin’s arms.
“I’m not, Delsey, I swear I’m not.”
Savich slashed his hand through the air. “Rob, this isn’t the time. We all know you were with Delsey all afternoon yesterday while Sherlock and I were interviewing your girlfriend.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
Savich cut him off. “Right now you need to focus. Think back, Rob. Picture the scene in your mind. Picture each person. Can you describe the man or woman directly behind Delsey?”
Rob gave Delsey one last look, then said to Savich, “Okay, there were lots of people, at least a dozen, maybe more, both men and women. Delsey was on the curb, first to go, waiting for the light to change. A man and a woman were directly behind her, crowding close, and then a second later, I saw Delsey flying into the street. I pushed through the crowd and managed to pull her back.” He swallowed convulsively. “It was close, too close.”
“
Did anyone look familiar to you?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention, only looking at Delsey. Even when I shoved through people to get to her, I didn’t notice their faces.”
Detective Ben Raven said, “Officer Mankins and three other patrol officers corralled some of the people who were behind Ms. Freestone. They took their names so we can question them. But many of our fine upstanding citizens couldn’t wait to get away. Our best shot at seeing the person who shoved Delsey might be the traffic cams at that intersection. We’ll have the footage within the hour. We’ll also check the cameras on all the buildings within a block radius. I’m hopeful we’ll nail our perp in living black and white.”
But Griffin wasn’t hopeful, not if the person who’d shoved Delsey was savvy about the cameras plastered all over Washington, almost as many as in London. He saw Delsey was looking wobbly and led her to the sofa and sat down beside her, never letting go of her hand. He saw she was looking at Rob Rasmussen, who still stood behind a utilitarian office chair, not moving, looking back at her.
She licked her dry lips. What would have happened if he hadn’t followed her to try to talk her around? “Griffin, why would someone want to kill me? I mean, I don’t know many people in Washington. I haven’t had the time or the opportunity to make a serious enemy. Even your doorman likes me. Could this have something to do with someone trying to kill Mrs. Rasmussen?”
Captain Ramirez came to attention. “What’s this? Wait a minute—Rob Rasmussen. You’re related?”
Sherlock said, “Rob is Mrs. Rasmussen’s grandson.”
Rob said to Captain Ramirez, “I had nothing to do with the attempts on her life and Delsey hasn’t even met her. What happened today couldn’t have anything to do with that mess.”
Savich said slowly, “It could have something to do with a woman’s anger at a rival. Rob, how would Marsia know you spent hours with Delsey yesterday?”
Rob never looked away from Delsey. “I went to see her last night. Before I could speak to her about Delsey, she told me about your visit at her studio and said she hoped she’d passed with flying colors. Then she eyed me, and finally asked me about my day. I told her I’d had lunch with a new friend in Washington.” His eyes fell to his sneakers. “Not much more. I wanted to wait until the weekend to break it off with her, but I did tell her I’d met someone I really liked, and I told her your name, Delsey. She smiled at me, asked if you were an artist like she was, and I told her you wrote music. She said she’d like to meet you. She didn’t seem disturbed at all. She said it was nice to meet new people that I liked. I started to get into it then, explain everything to her, but I got a call from one of my people about an emergency at one of our job sites. I had to go see to it. I told myself I had enough time. This weekend, I’d get everything clear with her.
“But listen, Savich, I’m not making it up. Marsia wasn’t at all upset when I told her about Delsey. She was understanding, agreeable, sweet, like always.”
And did you come back after your house emergency and sleep with her, Rob?
Aloud, Delsey said, “Yeah, a nice new friend, that’s me.”
“Well, you are, plus you’re a whole lot more than that, and you know it.” He saw Captain Ramirez rolling his eyes at him and said quickly, “Savich, you can’t believe Marsia would do something like this. She’s a sculptor, an artist, for heaven’s sake. As I told you, she wasn’t jealous or upset. No, she wouldn’t do anything like this, it’s absurd. I know her.”
Savich said, “How serious do you think Ms. Gay is about you, Rob? Does she expect a marriage proposal?”
Rob froze like a deer in the headlights. “A marriage proposal?
Neither of us have ever said a word about marriage, never. We’ve been really good friends, well, maybe there was more, but that’s all changed.” He looked at Delsey dead-on. “Everything changed when I met Delsey.”
Sherlock said matter-of-factly, “Rob, I know you believe what you said to Ms. Gay didn’t give her a big clue that your feelings for her had shifted to another woman. However, the fact that she remained calm and sweet to you doesn’t mean she wasn’t threatened or furious or jealous. We’ll confirm where Ms. Gay was this afternoon. Of course, even if she spent the day snug in her studio, she’s smart enough to have hired someone. Maybe we’ll clear this up quickly with the camera footage. Now, if you think of anything else, please call Dillon or me. Ben, Captain Ramirez, thank you for taking care of Ms. Freestone. We’ll be in touch.”
Rob Rasmussen took a step toward Delsey, only to have Griffin get in his face. “No, Mr. Rasmussen. Not now. Thank you for saving her, but I’m taking her home.”
Delsey stood beside her brother, her hand on his arm. “I told you, Rob, I don’t want to speak to you ever again and I meant it. From now on I’m avoiding men altogether. No more making bad decisions for me. Yes, Griffin, let’s go home. Thank you, Detective Raven, Captain Ramirez.”
They left Rob Rasmussen standing in the hall outside Captain Ramirez’s office, staring after Delsey.
48
CAU INTERVIEW ROOM
WASHINGTON, D.C.
THURSDAY EVENING
Savich and Sherlock sat across from Alexander in the same interview room they’d been in Tuesday, only two days before, but it seemed a lifetime ago. Alexander sat down, shot his cuffs, and said, “I don’t wish to begin until my lawyer arrives.” He looked down at his watch. “He said he was on his way. It appears he’d been waiting for Grandmother’s call.”
They waited in silence until R. D. Gardener, a formidable criminal attorney, strode into the room five minutes later. He stopped short, recognizing Savich. “Agent Savich, it’s been a while. May I ask why you have brought my client to the Hoover Building tonight? It couldn’t wait until tomorrow, this questioning he told me you demanded to conduct? You threatened to arrest him?”
“Hello, Mr. Gardener, let me introduce you to Agent Sherlock. I don’t believe you two have met.”
Gardener nodded at her, then his eyes widened. “Like most of America, I know your wife. The heroine of JFK. A pleasure, Agent Sherlock. Now, Agent Savich, you will tell me what evidence you have to support bringing my client in at this ungodly hour on a Thursday night.”
“Please sit down, Mr. Gardener, and I’ll lay it out for you and Alexander. On Monday, Venus gave us permission to search the house, after the attempt on her life. It required several days for the forensics team to process all they took from the mansion. They found nothing suspicious, except for traces of arsenic in your medicine cabinet, Alexander.” Savich added to Gardener, “As you may know, Mrs. Rasmussen was being systematically poisoned with arsenic. Why would you have traces of arsenic in your medicine cabinet, Alexander?”
Before Alexander could open his mouth, Gardener said, “You’re telling me you brought Mr. Rasmussen down here because of some traces of a substance in his medicine cabinet? Are you that desperate, Agent Savich?”
Savich continued, “I would certainly like to hear Alexander’s explanation for the arsenic.”
Gardener said, “You searched Mr. Rasmussen’s suite of rooms without his permission? Without a warrant?”
“As I said, Mrs. Rasmussen gave us permission and it is her house.”
“But his rooms are his alone. Your evidence will be inadmissible in court, Agent.”
Savich said, “I’m sure you will argue that point very well if we come to that, Mr. Gardener. Alexander, do you have an explanation?”
“No, I do not. Obviously anyone in the house could have put it there. Do you honestly believe I’m so stupid as to leave arsenic in my bathroom, Savich?”
“That remains to be seen, Alexander, but it’s only one of the reasons you are here. We found calls to a burner phone sold to Mr. Willig made from your cell phone, calls made on Sunday, one day before Willig tried to murder your grandmother on Monday afternoon. You said you didn’t know Vincent Willig. If that is true, then why did you call him?”
Alexander rose out of his chair, leaned close to Savich. “I don’t know the man, I told you that. I did not call him.”
“Doesn’t this all look highly suspicious to you, Agent Savich? As my client has said, how stupid would he have to be to not only leave traces of arsenic in his medicine cabinet but also to make calls that could be traced to the man he was hiring to kill his grandmother? I understand the man was a convicted felon who was murdered last night while in your custody?” He shook his head. “Unfortunate, and very prejudicial to any case you might wish to make.”
Alexander gave a sharp ugly laugh. “Excellent police work. Do you have anything else to ask me?”
Before Savich could answer, Mr. Gardener said, “Look, Agent Savich, the phone calls and the traces of arsenic—hardly enough to get an indictment, I’m sure you’ll agree. Anyone could have planted the arsenic, and I’m sure Mr. Rasmussen doesn’t keep his cell phone on his person all the time. Again, anyone could have tampered with his cell phone.”
“Alexander,” Sherlock said, “where were you early Wednesday morning?”
“Oh, come on, Agent—”
“Where were you, Alexander?”
“I was at home asleep. Alone. Where do you think? At some nightclub drinking my brains out? I certainly wasn’t at the hospital disarming a guard and killing Willig. I’m sure there are cameras at the hospital. Look at them. You won’t see me.” He paused. “But you’ve already looked, haven’t you?”
“Yes, we looked, and no, we didn’t see you,” Savich said.
Alexander rose. “I want to go home.”
“Where were you this afternoon about four o’clock?”
“Why?” Gardener asked.
“Tell us where you were, Alexander,” Savich said.
“I
was in my office at the Smithsonian, finishing the paperwork for the acquisition of one of Johnny Cash’s guitars. Would you like my secretary’s number?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Alexander recited the number. “What happened this afternoon?”
Savich stood. “A crime that might be related. You can go now, Alexander. Venus asked me to tell you that she believes it best for both of you if you stay at a hotel until this is cleared up. She’s booked you a suite at the Dupont Circle Hotel. Isabel is sending clothes over. You’re to call her if you need anything else.”