Chapter 8
The next day, the sun was shining brightly and the rains from the day before had sweetened the air that was hovering over the Capital. The air was fresh to breathe and the sun made the day enjoyable. This ranked as a good day for Steve as he walked into Headquarters ready to put his nose to the grindstone in solving the Smith-Hughes murder case. “Good morning Linda. I'm ready to crack this case, how about you?”
“What did you dream about last night? What magic potion did you drink this morning?” chuckled Linda as she relaxed in her chair. As Steve sat at his desk, fellow colleagues in the Homicide Department approached him and congratulated him on his award. He was a celebrity for the day, and today, he enjoyed it. After drinking his second cup of coffee, he sat down at his desk and started to go over his notes on the case. This case was now ending its second week and Steve wondered how much longer would he and Linda be allowed to work on it. Most cases are solved in about three weeks and this one was still without an indictment. A memo from the D.A.'s office reminded Steve that the D.A. was getting impatient waiting for the word from Steve and Linda to name the suspect to be indicted for Laura Smith-Hughes's murder. Steve and Linda used the large conference room next to the Captain's office for a work session on the case. They spread the case material out on the table and even used the chalkboard to list things and people.
“Let's list our suspects, from first to last,” remarked Linda, as she wrote their names on the chalkboard. “Number uno is our illustrious Vice President, William Anderson, who was on the scene before her death, followed by the First Lady of the United States, who visited our lady early that evening and left before Anderson came onboard.”
“You have to placed Jonathan Smith-Hughes next even if he has a good alibi for his wife's murder,” Steve interjected, and Linda placed his name on the list. “Who's next?”
“From our list of people in her checkbook, I would place Senator Otto Klausburger next, followed by this Claude Benjamin Smith-Hughes,” replied Linda. “How about our mysterious Mr. Petersen, Steve? Where do we place him?”
“Maybe at the top or maybe no where,” remarked Steve as he took a clean sheet of paper out and started to jot down some of his thoughts. “Let's do some projecting Linda. Let's make our Mr. Petersen our killer.”
“How Steve, we know nothing about this guy. Nothing at all,” Linda threw back as she sat down across from her partner. “But we do have something on him. First, he was authorized to board Smith-Hughes's corporate jet in Chicago and landed at National Airport around eleven or twelve that Monday night. We know this much about the guy, right?” Steve projected as he charted this on paper Linda nodded in agreement. “Now, presume for a moment that our mysterious Mr. Petersen was in reality, Jonathan Smith-Hughes. He gives the authorization to the flight attendant and then sneaks out of the hotel and boards the jet before it leaves for Washington. Wearing those sweats and dark glasses, he sits in the rear of the craft and acts like he's sick. When the plane lands, he scudded away to the apartment at the Watergate Complex.”
“Go on, Steve, it sounds good,” Linda replies with interest.
“He arrives at the apartment either after Anderson leaves or just before he leaves. Since this was his apartment, he has a key to enter freely. He confronts his wife and he decides to kill her by using her as a pin-cushion. Why he commits this deed,;” we must still do some searching,” Steve comments as he rises from his chair and has Linda jot more facts on the chalkboard. “He then leaves the apartment and ventures to some airport nearby and rents a plane and flies to Chicago. Lands there and hurries back to his room and awaits for his butler's call in the morning.”
“Sounds good, Steve, but it has several loop holes in it. Mr. Stidwell could drive us right out of the water unless we plug them up,” replied Linda. “One, if he made those phone calls as he stated he did, he was in Chicago at the time of the murder. Second, as of now, we don't have a motive for him killing his wife. Third, renting a plane is too easy to trace. I don't think he's that stupid to make this mistake, and also, either he had help or he planned this to the minute and pulled it off with clock-worth order.”
“I think he has that ability Linda. He reminds us of the guy who is smart enough to make this scenario work, but, like you stated, why? What turned him into a killer?” Steve remarked as he sat in his chair.
“Right now, partner, let's check our buddy the Vice President out and believe me, he may force you to throw all this projection out the window.”
“Anderson is a stuffed high class stud, but I can't picture him as a killer. He just gives me the impression that he doesn't like to dirty his hands to do such a task,” remarked Steve as he tossed his pencil on the desk in disgust.
“Looks can be deceiving Steve. I work with the facts, and ‘.
believe me, you know better. You know anyone can be a murderer,” she replied.
“I believe Laura Smith-Hughes was blackmailing these people and one of them decided to silence her forever, but until we find out the material that was hung over their heads, we are just spinning our wheels,” Steve remarked. “My gut feeling is that the scenario I just drew up makes the most sense, but again why?”
“We need to know that ‘why,’” Linda commented as she glanced at her notes. “Those numbers in her checkbook must be the key to this case.”
“Those numbers unlock something, but what? If you were Laura Smith-Hughes, Linda, where would you hide something that you wouldn't want anyone to find?”
“Being the genteel lady that she was, I would use a place where I wouldn't be out of place. Like a safety security box in a bank, or a locker at the health club. Those numbers may be locker numbers that we'll have to check out,” Linda stated with deep thought. “She didn't have a large number of keys in her purse but I'll check again.”
“We are sure of one thing, she was blackmailing certain people and benefitted from it. One of these people is a murderer, but which one? The numbers in the checkbook are too strange to be anything but a code to where the blackmail material is stored, but again, where? I believe we can now list the motive for the murder to a victim of a blackmailer,” Steve stated slowly and in a way to emphasis meaning.
“I agree whole-heartedly Steve,” chimed in Linda as she closed her folder and erased the chalkboard. “We have a lot of work to do partner,’ from checking out those blasted numbers to verify parts of your theory on Jonathan. “I’ll need a cup of coffee. How about you?” replied her partner.
“I’ll get it,” Linda stated as she headed to the coffee table and Steve to his desk. His phone was ringing and he hurried to answer it. As Linda approached his desk with his coffee, she noticed that he was exhibiting an angry tone over the phone. He was extremely mad at who ever was on the other end, and when he finished his conversation, he slammed the phone down onto its cradle. “Problems, partner? Can I help in any way? “Lousy cleaners. They lost my best suit and now they are trying to blame me for it. The gall they have....” Steve blurted out with anger, but he politely changed his face and smiled and thanked his partner for the cup of coffee. He then sat in his chair and started to work.
• • •
When Steve returned from his lunch, he had several maps and a list of plane rental agencies in Maryland and Virginia, and also in Illinois and Indiana. He also had a list of the car rental companies and taxi cab companies that work out of Washington National Airport. He started calling the car rental agencies at the airport, and the third one he contacted, stated that a Mr. Petersen rented a car around ten Monday evening. The attendant at the rental agency stated that the car had over a hundred miles on it for that rental, and was dropped off at the company's outlet at the Baltimore airport. “Now, we're getting some where,” shouted Steve as he called the Baltimore airport for more information.”
Upon calling the Baltimore airport, Steve was informed that one plane rental company operated out of the airport area, the Maryland Aviation Rental Company. As Steve dialed their number, his heart started beating faster as he was anticipating a positive answer from them to his questions. The voice on the other end of the phone revealed that a Mr. Petersen had indeed rented a twin engine Cessna and made out a flight plan to Chicago's Midway Airport. The flight was from 3:00AM to 6:00AM Tuesday morning. The plane had successfully arrived at Midway Airport around 6:15 that morning and released to an affiliate of the Maryland Aviation Company stationed there. Steve was elated with this information, and he informed the company people in Baltimore that he was going to be there personally tomorrow to have them try to identify his suspect, Jonathan Smith-Hughes.
“We have something, Linda,” Steve remarked as he approached her desk. “Maybe my projection may be true after all.” He then showed her the information he had compiled on Petersen and she patted his back and was as happy as he was.
“Only one problem, Steve,” she cautioned, “you have to connect this Mr. Petersen to Jonathan Smith-Hughes. If the two are a match, we have a possible murderer.”
“We definitely have to visit Chicago and check out parts of your theory Steve,” Linda commented as she started to place her folder in order. “I'll see the Captain and set up arrangements for us to leave this Sunday and be able to advance our investigation as soon as possible.”
“OK, with me,” Steve replied, “I think the sooner we go the better to solve this case. It'll get the D.A. off our asses and put this murder in the solved category.”
“Are we going to Baltimore together, or do you think you could handle it by yourself?” Linda questioned calmly. “There're a few leads I want to check out and we won't waste the whole day to follow up on one lead. OK?”
“I think that's an excellent idea. I guess that's why you are so smart, lady,” Steve jokingly mentioned to Linda with a broad smile on her face. “Maybe, I'll ask Maureen to come with me and we can enjoy some great fish and crab cakes at a great waterfront eatery know of.” They both picked up their case folders and slowly walked into the Captain's office to secure them in his file cabinet. They then parted ways as they both started to leave the building and another day on this case was over. That night, as Steve and Maureen were laying in bed, he held her in his arms and they chatted as they relaxed after having a hot sexual session. “I'm going to Baltimore tomorrow, so how about coming with me and we'll enjoy a great fish dinner?”
“Sorry, darling, I have a very busy day tomorrow, but I sure would love it this weekend, probably Sunday,” Maureen ‘replied as she pressed her body closer to him.
“I won't be in town Sunday, darling. Linda and I are flying out to Chicago to check some leads and I'll be gone for a few days.”
“Anything you could relate to your little sweetheart at this time, Steve?” she begged as she was trying to pry information out of him.
“I have nothing to tell you, hon, but when we have something to release, you know where you rank in my heart.” He reached over and started to kiss her moist lips and around her lovely face. His amorous attention soon lead to their favorite pastime, sex.
• • •
It took Steve nearly two hours to drive to Baltimore and he arrived at the Maryland Aviation Rental Company hanger a little after noon. The owner of the company had complied with Steve's request to have the men who worked that Monday or Tuesday morning to be available to answer Steve's questions.
They informed Steve that Mr. Petersen wore a red and gold sweat suit with an Oriole baseball cap. He wore dark glasses, even though it was night time. He showed adequate credentials and signed the required papers. When Steve showed them a picture of Jonathan Smith-Hughes, they just couldn't identify him as Mr. Harold Petersen, the man who signed for” the Cessna twin engine craft. “He's a southpaw, detective. He signed our contract left-handed,” one of the men stated.
“Anything extraordinary about this guy? Was he carrying any luggage with him?” questioned detective Ciminelli.
“Like I said before, he wore a Redskin sweat suit with an Oriole cap and he had a simple plastic bag with him. Mr. Petersen said very little as I can't even recognize his voice, but he sounded like one of us, no southern accent, when we communicated with him over the radio as he prepared to take off,” the Aviation Company clerk attested.
“Detective, this guy sure knew how to fly. He had that plane in the air so quickly as if he was late for an important meeting in Chicago,” one of the Company attendants declared. “I swear he took it off the ground on two wheels. He used only a short part of the runway. Mr. Petersen was some pilot.”
Steve received a copy of the flight contract with Mr. Petersen's signature on it and he thanked everyone and decided to head back to Washington. It was after five o'clock in the afternoon when he arrived in the Squad Room and his desk. A few minutes later, Linda strolled in and she caught Steve on the phone. Again, as before, he had an angry look on his face and she could catch the phrase, “I'll see you later about this” and he hung up the phone hard. When Steve spotted his partner nearby, he smiled at her and proceeded to fill her in on his trip that morning.
“It's starting to fill in Steve, but again, we have to connect Petersen to Smith-Hughes or it's useless. This Mr. Petersen may be our man or we could be blowing smoke out the wrong end,” she commented.
“How did you do today?” chimed in Steve as he took a drink from his can of Pepsi.
“A brick wall, partner. I checked at the bank to see if those numbers were safety deposit box numbers and the manager stated that in no way could they be. Also, Mrs. Smith-Hughes didn't have any deposit box keys in her bag. Only car keys and keys to the apartment,” Linda interjected with a sense of sadness. “I even checked if she was a member of the local health clubs, but again, she had no locker assigned to her. It didn't even work at the Bus Terminal.”
“A whole day's work and all we get is a goose egg for our efforts. Nuts,” exclaimed Steve as he settled into his chair. “Maybe we'll do better tomorrow with our buddy Anderson,” Linda replied, “and who knows what we'll find in Chicago.”
“I'm getting frustrated, partner, real frustrated,” Steve stated as he finished his Pepsi with a long swallow. “Remember, the meeting is at 11:30 in the morning at F.B.I. headquarters.
Has Vinnie revealed anything the Bureau boys have on this case or are they playing dumb with us?”
“To tell you the truth, Steve, the Bureau has done very little on this case. Some how, they don't want to be involved and don't wish to cause Anderson or Mrs. Patterson any grief. Vinnie believes that pressure from on top is being applied, and applied heavy.”
“We need someone to hand over to the D.A.'s office or our asses are in a sling, but, right now we have really one true suspect and he's a person we have to tread easy on,” remarked Steve with a little anger in his voice.
“If your theory works out, we'll have two suspects,” Linda added, “but we need to find a better motive than what we have. If only we knew what Smith-Hughes had on these people.”
“She hid her blackmail material somewhere, but where? It's not in the apartment and as you discovered, not in outside areas that she frequented. A genteel lady like her would not bury this material. I just can't see her dirtying her hands in any way.”
“That's for sure,” Linda replied. “If only one of these people would admit to the blackmailing, but to do so would involve them as suspects in this case. Lt's put some heat on these people when we return from Chicago.”
Linda returned to her desk and she noticed that Steve was phoning someone, probably Maureen. The way he was acting, like blowing kisses into the phone, Linda realized that it surely was his lovely Maureen on the other end. The day was a long one for her so she put her materials away and slowly decided to head for a hot, comfortable bath to relax her tired body. Steve later put all the files away and he too headed for some rest at home.
• • •
Saturday morning was sunny and the air was fresh and clean. Arriving at the J. Edgar Hoover Building at 11:15 in the morning, Steve was able to park his car in a special parking area. When he walked under the entrance cover, he discovered that the main door was locked and the Bureau guard had to call for a special agent to accompany him. He was led to an office on the fourth floor and when they entered the room, Steve was joined by Linda and her brother Vincent. After shaking hands with Vinnie, Steve sat next to Linda and as he sat down, she pointed out that his pants had been cut. “That dog I encountered when I jogged around the Mall this morning must have caught my pants. I thought I dodged him,” Steve replied as he noticed the cuts. As they waited for the Vice President, Steve, Linda, and Vinnie talked about the up coming NFL football season and each praised their favorite team. Steve was wearing a Redskin wind breaker so you knew which team he liked. Linda liked the Miami Dolphins.
After about twenty minutes, the door opened and Agent Anders entered with Vice President Anderson and another distinguished gentleman. Vice President Anderson had brought legal counsel with him this time. “Good morning, Mr. Vice President,” greeted detectives Ciminelli and Hannigan. “We are very sorry to bother you in this manner, sir, but we must make sure that you are either our chief suspect or no suspect at all. We didn't start these rumors about you in the press and well try very hard to put an end to them,” Steve stated as he faced the Vice President and his attorney.
“I'm here to settle this problem and to inform you again, that when I left Laura that night, she was very much alive,” stated William Anderson, the Vice President of the United States. He had settled into a leather chair and his attorney was next to him. Across the table sat Steve and Linda, and Agent Anders and Linda's brother Vinnie took seats near the table.
“You stated earlier that you arrived around ten in the evening. Am I correct, sir?” Steve stated. “Yes, detective Ciminelli, I arrived near ten and left before eleven. I told you this before, and I told you what happened there. Do I have to repeat my story to you?” he replied to Steve. His attorney reached over and whispered some advice in his ear and Anderson nodded his head in agreement. “Mr. Vice President,” Linda commented, “can we have a look at your back, sir?”
“Why, detective? Is this necessary?” the attorney related to Linda. Linda informed him that it was. The Vice President informed his attorney that he was going to comply and cooperate. He removed his shirt and showed his bare back to his questioners. In the upper right hand corner of his back, the fresh scars of three scratches could be seen. Steve looked at Linda and tried to communicate with his eyes as he pointed at them. “Mr. Anderson, how did you contract those scratches on your back?” Steve questioned.
As the Vice President started to put his shirt on, he answered Steve's question. “As I was trying to leave Laura's bed after telling her that this was our last time, and that I wasn't afraid of her threats, she reached at me and her nails scratched my back. At that time, I didn't care about it. I just wanted to leave and get out of her life and her definitely out of mine.”
“And you didn't get angry and decide to end the relationship permanently?” blurted Steve as he looked the Vice President in the face. “She was a threat to your future and a burden to your career. It would be so easy to just silence her mouth forever.”
“No, no, I didn't kill her. I couldn't do such a thing. Sure, I hated her, but I couldn't kill her. You have to believe me,” Vice President Anderson shouted across the table.
“Mr. Vice President,” Steve returned, “was Laura Smith-Hughes blackmailing you in any way?”
His attorney quickly bent over and whispered some advice into his ear and after a few minutes of consultation, the Vice President was ready to answer Steve's question. “Laura's threats were bad enough but I don't consider them to be blackmail, detective. Was Laura trying to hold something over my head, the answer is no. All she had was our affair and she intended to destroy my marriage or my political ambition or both. Now, if you consider that blackmail, so be it.”
“It would be a good motive to kill someone, sir,” Linda answered. “People have killed for less.”
“My client has cooperated to the best of his ability, detective, and’ he has declared his innocence. You don't have enough evidence to charge him. No murder weapon and his motive is very weak. Come on, you're dealing with the Vice President of the United States, not a common hood from the neighborhood,” interjected Anderson's attorney as he stood up to make his little speech. His voice was calm and his words very professional. He was probably one of Washington's best.
“Bad love affairs some time lead to murder, counselor,” replied Steve as he tapped his pencil on the table and he looked at the well-dressed attorney.
“The Vice President is guilty of having an affair with the murder victim, and that's not uncommon in this town for officials in government. An adulterer he is, a murderer he isn't,” remarked the attorney.
“Well, sir, the Vice President is the last person to see Laura Smith-Hughes alive. His fingerprints are located in various areas of the apartment and he admits to having an argument with her at the time. Anger can sometimes lead to violence. Wouldn't you say so?” Linda commented.
“Mind if I smoke?” remarked Vice President Anderson as he proceeded to light up a cigarette. “Detective, I didn't kill Laura, and if you don't wish to believe me, I can't stop you. You can check my clothes and search my home, but you'll not find a murder weapon or bloody clothes. When I left that apartment, Laura was still alive. Mad, yes, dead no.” Steve and Linda looked at each other and after conferring for a moment, Linda turned to her brother Vinnie and asked him to call for the forensic attendant who was on call that morning. “Mr. Vice President, we'll have to draw a sample of blood to check against samples found at the murder scene. If they don't match, you're home free, sir.”
The Vice President and his attorney nodded their heads in consent and agreement. A few minutes later, a lab assistant arrived and the blood sample was taken. Vinnie Hannigan instructed him what to do with it.
“I guess that's it, Mr. Anderson. We can call it a day, for we're finished with our interrogation,” Steve remarked. “We will submit our findings to our Captain and to the District Attorney's office. It's up to him if an indictment will be forth-coming.”
The Vice President rose from his chair and listened to some more advice from his attorney and he then thanked Steve and Linda and shook their hands. They then left the room and after they left, Agent Anders looked at Steve and commented: “The bastard didn't do it, Steve. He's too much a lady's man, not a mean bull or an individual to hack someone to death. If he did it, he would have shot her.”
“I think you're right,” Linda replied, “but this makes William Anderson our chief suspect. It's up to the D.A. to ask for an indictment.”
“Our case is not too strong, partner,” Steve remarked with a dejected voice.
“You're right, Steve,” viewed Anders. They then slowly all left the room and went their separate ways. “See you in the morning at National for our flight, Linda,” stated Steve as he walked down the steps of the Hoover Building. Linda waved and nodded her reply.