“Dr. Barnes, Mr. Barnes,” Shoop said, standing at his desk as the couple entered. “I’d like you to meet Amy Shuster Bridgewater and Harold Vickers.” All four people shook hands—for what reason they did not know—politely. Shoop brought over two chairs from the side of the office wall for Pamela and Rocky, had then sit down and closed his door. He then returned to the chair behind his desk.
“I realize,” began Shoop, “that none of you know how the others are involved in all of this. Let me see if I can explain. Early last Sunday morning, a local disc jockey named Ted Ballard was shot to death while on air. We had no clues to the identity of the killer who seemed to vanish into thin air. Also, we had little information about or contacts for Ballard. I asked Dr. Barnes here,” and he gestured towards Pamela, “to assist us with this investigation because we had a recording of the murder that the radio station had made and Dr. Barnes had been instrumental in solving a murder for us last year by analyzing a sound recording of a murder. She has been aiding us in our efforts. Dr. and Mr. Barnes, Mrs. Bridgewater and Mr. Vickers arrived in my office several hours ago and the tale they have brought me is astounding, I think you will believe. I believe, Dr. Barnes, you will see that it tells us the identity of the killer of Ted Ballard. Maybe, I’ll let Mrs. Bridgewater tell you…”
“I don’t think I….” said Amy, clasping a used handkerchief in her fist, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Let me, please,” said Vickers. “Dr. Barnes, Mr. Barnes, I am the attorney for Charles Bridgewater, head of a well-known carpet-manufacturing family. Charles Bridgewater is dying. He has two sons, David and Daniel. Soon after high school graduation, David and his father got in a terrible feud. Charles disowned David and David left the family and the family hasn’t heard from him since—which is how Charles claimed he wanted it. Daniel has been running the business since his father became ill, but Daniel has always wanted to reunite his father and his brother. With his father’s impending death, Daniel felt much greater pressure to bring his family back together, so he hired a private investigator to track down his brother. The investigator was able to find David living under an assumed name…”
“Ted Ballard?” asked Pamela.
“You are three steps ahead of me,” said Vickers. “Yes. When Daniel discovered where his brother was, he was determined to go to him and bring him home to try to make things right between him and his father before his father died. Daniel headed here and actually met with David. Things seemed to be going okay. Daniel was reporting to me regularly. He thought he would be able to convince his brother to return. He indicated to me that David wanted him to visit the radio station where David was a disc jockey. Daniel planned to go there last Saturday night which I assume he did. The next day, I heard from Daniel—or I thought it was Daniel--and he indicated that he was still having trouble convincing David and that David was having serious problems that he didn’t know he’d be able to solve. He didn’t indicate what those problems were, but I got the idea that he thought maybe he was into drugs or some type of crime. Then, Amy found what she did.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Barnes,” said Amy, sniffling, “I know you’ve helped solve this whole mess, but for me, it’s too late. Too late.”
Vickers gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“I’m Dan’s wife—actually his secret wife,” said Amy proudly. “We’ve tried to keep our marriage secret because of all of this trauma going on about David and Dan’s father. Dan wanted to tell his father about us; he was planning on telling him the minute he got David and his father back together. I worried that it might be dangerous for Dan to try to bring his brother back, but I never thought he’d be murdered.”
“Murdered?” exclaimed Pamela.
“While Dan was on this wild goose chase to bring his brother home, he would report in to me regularly by phone—several times a day. He told me about his plans to see David—or Ted Ballard—perform at the radio station Saturday night. When he didn’t call me the next day, I knew something was wrong. I called Harold and he said Dan was calling him regularly. It didn’t make sense—all of a sudden he stops contacting his wife when he is calling his lawyer. I started to go crazy when he didn’t respond. I even went online and looked up information for the station where David worked and the town and discovered to my horror that the disc jockey Ted Ballard that I knew was David Bridgewater had been murdered. I called Harold and we realized immediately that something horrible was wrong. We suspected that it was David who was calling him and not calling me. We contacted Detective Shoop because he was listed in the newspaper stories as the officer in charge. He suggested we come here and see if we could identify the body.”
“Yes,” continued Shoop, “Mrs. Bridgewater just identified her husband’s body at the morgue. The person who was killed was not David Bridgewater—alias Ted Ballard. It was Daniel Bridgewater.”
“Dan had several false upper teeth in a partial plate. He had a minor accident at the plant several years ago and kept it quiet for insurance reasons,” Amy said softly, “He never wanted anyone to know. He didn’t even like it that I knew about it. But when I told the coroner about the specific way the teeth were made, it seemed to verify that the victim was indeed Dan—not David.”
“You see, Dr. Barnes, Mr. Barnes,” continued Shoop, “The reason for the extreme confusion in the identification and the reason you thought you saw the dead Ted Ballard in New Orleans is that David and Daniel were identical twins.”
“Identical twins,” she gasped, “Now I see how he did it.”
“You mean the murder recording?” asked Shoop.
“Yes,” said Pamela, “the patter Ballard—or rather David--gives about the killer pointing the gun at him is all false. He’s really pointing the gun at his brother, who is standing by the door. That’s why we heard the brother gasp. Daniel was probably shocked to see his own brother pull a gun on him. And David shot him before he was able to respond. The angle of entry of the bullet matches because David was seated at the desk and Daniel was standing at the door. After David shot Daniel, he turned off the microphone. What happened after that I don’t know.”
“I can speculate,” said Shoop, “He probably exchanged clothes with his brother, dragged the body to under the desk, took his wallet and keys, and left in his car. He then, no doubt, went to Daniel’s hotel, checked out after clearing any trace of his brother from the hotel room, and headed for New Orleans where he was spotted by…”
“By us!” announced Rocky, triumphantly, “last night.”
“All of this is fine,” said Shoop, looking around the small office at the four people so intimately involved in this crime. “It appears we have identified the killer. Now we just have to catch him.”
“And I know just how we can do that,” said Vickers, holding up his cell phone and giving Amy a reassuring hug.
“How?” asked Shoop.
“We set a trap,” replied Vickers. “Are you game?”
“I am!” exclaimed Pamela, and Rocky sighed, shaking his head.
Detective Shoop looked at Rocky, “I know just how you feel.”
Chapter 32
Present time--December 23, Sunday
David Bridgewater rang the elaborate bell ringer on the massive door—totally unnecessary he surmised seeing as how this mansion was now his. He could just walk in. Oh well, I’ll maintain decorum for a while, he thought. There was a death in the family, he reasoned. A certain degree of courtesy is called for. Plus, I’m not certain which of Danny Boy’s keys fits the lock.
Harold Vickers answered the door.
“Daniel,” he said, solemnly and gestured for David to enter. David walked into the spacious wood-paneled foyer of the Bridgewater mansion. “I’m so sorry about your father,” continued Vickers. “I know it must be especially hard for you that you weren’t here when he passed.”
“Yes, Harold,” replied David, “Very hard. Thank you for calling. Of course, we all knew it was only a matter of time. I’m only sorry I couldn’t convince…David to come back before father passed. Are you serving as sentry now?”
“We’ve been receiving many condolence cards and packages,” said Vickers, remaining standing. He was curious to see what David would do. It didn’t matter if he decided to leave because, Vickers knew, Shoop had several officers stationed outside.
“Is the body at the mortuary?” asked David.
“No,” replied Vickers, “Of course, we waited to have the body taken there because we knew you would want to say your good-byes in person.”
“That wasn’t necessary,” replied David, slightly flushed. Not what he wanted. The less he saw of the old man, living or dead, the better.
“Fine,” said David. “I’ll just go up to my room and unpack and then I’ll go see--father.”
“I don’t think you should wait, Daniel,” said Vickers, urgently. “The mortuary would really like to proceed, so if you don’t mind, you need to go directly to see your father.”
“All right,” agreed David, heading for the stairs. He couldn’t make a fuss now or Vickers and the staff might suspect that he wasn’t Daniel and that would never do. He headed up the long flight of carpet-covered stairs. Vickers followed behind like a retinue. At the head of the steps, he turned right, hoping that his father’s bedroom would still be located in the same place. He figured if he walked into the wrong room he could claim he was disoriented due to grief. Opening the door at the end of the hallway, he was relieved to discover himself in his father’s room. The old man’s giant mahogany four-poster bed was located against one wall. The old man rested in the bed, the covers tucked under his chin, his eyes closed. He looked almost alive. Around the bed stood several people he didn’t know—probably doctors and lawyers. He walked carefully towards the bed and when he arrived he sat on the edge of the bed, all the on-lookers awaiting his reaction, obviously. The reaction they got was one of extreme shock, when suddenly his dead father opened his eyes.
“David,” squeaked the old man, squeezing his eyes together to try to see his face.
What’s going on? he thought, panicking. “Daniel, father,” David gulped. Alive, he thought. The old man is supposed to be dead.
“No,” said the old man, “David. You think I can’t tell my own sons apart? Besides, how can you be Daniel, when Daniel is dead?”
David choked. What was going on? His father was alive. He knew he wasn’t his brother. He knew Daniel was dead.
“I don’t….”
“No…David,” said Vickers, standing behind him. “I suppose you don’t. But a lot of people have been working hard to find out who killed your brother—these people in this room to be exact.” He pointed to Detective Shoop, Amy Shuster Bridgewater, Rocky Barnes, and Pamela Barnes. “It was through their efforts that we know what you did to your own brother. That you killed him and attempted to pass yourself off for him. I assume that you thought that if your father were dead, you could get away with claiming you were Daniel and the entire Bridgewater fortune would be yours to do with as you pleased.”
“You said he was dead,” David retorted, pointing at the old man in the bed.
“I may be on my way out,” said Charles Bridgewater, “but I’m going to hang on long enough to see that you get what you deserve, David. I should have turned you over to the police years ago, when I suspected that you were instrumental in the death of your own mother, but instead like a fool, I felt sympathy for you and sent you away instead. That was a horrid mistake—and Daniel paid for my stupid mistake with his life. I can never forgive myself for that.” He shook his small fist at David and then buried his head in his hands. Amy rushed over to the man and encircled him in her arms.
“I don’t understand,” David said, finally, as he realized that his clever plot had come unraveled.
“There were many things you did wrong, David,” said Shoop, opening his pocket notebook and going down a list with his finger. “You didn’t account for bullet angle, ballistics, including the acoustic profile of a gun shot which told us—or rather told Dr. Barnes here—a lot about just how, how far, and at what angle the gun was shot.”
“You also didn’t account for the personal side,” said Amy, lifting her head from the shoulders of Charles Bridgewater. “I called and called Daniel’s phone after Saturday night and he—you—never answered. Daniel would never do that.”
“Who are you?” asked David, sneering.
“I’m Daniel’s wife,” cried Amy, tears staining her cheeks and the shoulder of her father-in-law. She held out her hand and showed him a beautiful diamond ring.
“That’s my mother’s ring!” exclaimed David.
“No,” responded Charles, “It’s Amy’s ring now. Daniel gave it to her when they were married.” He looked up at his reprobate son and said, “David, you may have killed Daniel—my real son—your brother—but Amy is his widow—and she is pregnant with Daniel’s child—my grandchild.”
“I think what Charles is saying, David,” said Vickers to David, “is that the Bridgewater line will go on—Daniel’s line will go on. But your line is dead in the water. Detective,” he said, turning to Shoop at the door, “here’s your man. You and the local police here can fight over who gets first crack at him.” Shoop nodded at Vickers, brought out a set of handcuffs and placed them on David’s wrists as one of the local police officers read him his rights.
With the excitement over, Pamela and Rocky said good-bye to Amy and her new father-in-law and asked her to let them know when the baby arrived. Vickers walked the couple to the front door and thanked them for all their help. Pamela and Rocky headed home, knowing that Angela and Kent would be thrilled to hear that the man they had chased all over New Orleans had actually been the killer and had been arrested.
“A bittersweet conclusion,” said Rocky to his wife.
“Yes,” agreed Pamela, “but maybe baby Bridgewater will turn out to be the greatest carpet manufacturer of them all.”
Epilogue
Present time--June 21, Sunday
The Reardon Regional Zoo was not the standard location for a wedding. Today, however, it was decked out in beautiful flowers, ribbons, and satin finery. A pavilion located in the middle of the zoo, with walk paths heading to the different animal locations, served as the venue for the ceremony. A huge trellis marked the location where the actual exchange of vows would take place. White folding chairs were arranged in circular rows in front of the trellis. Seated in these chairs, guests could look around them and see—and hear—in the distance, exotic birds, elephants, camels, giraffes, monkeys, and a variety of smaller creatures. The noise of wedding guests mingled with the cries of exotic fauna made for a truly unique matrimonial experience—or at least that’s what Pamela thought as she slid into one of the seats in the second row.