Chapter 6
When Steve arrived at Dominico's, he discovered that Haureen had not yet arrived, so he ordered a table in a quiet corner of the non-smoking section. As he settled in his chair, he ordered a cold draft from the bar and informed the waitress that he would make his order when Maureen arrived. Dominico's was a family-style Italian restaurant, with the checkered table-cloths and Italian landscapes hung on the wall. The aroma of good food filled the air and aroused your appetite.
Half way through his second beer, Maureen was seen entering the room and upon discovering Steve's table, proceeded to it quickly. He rose from his chair and greeted her with a warm, hard kiss on her moist lips. She held it for a few seconds, so as to enjoy its meaning.
“Thank you, darling, I needed that badly. I wish I could have you around every minute of my day,” Maureen commented as she Slowly sat in her chair opposite Steve. “I need a stiff drink right now. I'll have a Tom Collins with a twist of lime, please,” Maureen remarked as the waitress took her bar order.
“Tough day, honey, or do you just want me to feel sorry for you and your nice new job?” joked Steve as he reached out and caressed her hand softly.
“Sympathy I don't need, Steve. I asked for this job and John is taking advantage of me because he knows I need to look good or I blow my big chance with ABC,” Maureen remarked as she sipped on her mixed drink. Steve kissed her left hand and smiled at her as if he could solve her problems with a smile.
“You're a darling for being a good and compassionate listener.”
“It'll be tougher at ABC in the beginning, Maureen. They will use you here and there, even out on the streets to cover some stories,” Steve commented as he tried to relax his lover. “I'm hungry tonight and this eggplant lasagna with-seasoned vegetables sounds great to me.”
“I think I'll have the Sicilian antipasto with a side order of Italian style Buffalo wings. Will you help me finish the wings, my love?” Maureen declared as she placed the menu down. The waitress took their orders and replaced their drinks with refills. Before Maureen could tell Steve something, the waitress returned and placed some hot rolls and bread sticks on their table. They started to devour them as if they hadn't eaten in weeks. Steve fed some of his food to Maureen and she returned the same. They laughed and chuckled as they shared their food like they shared their love.
Steve cleaned his dish and not a crumb of his eggplant lasagna was left. He ordered another beer and Maureen started to enjoy her chocolate marshmallow parfait with hot fudge and whipped cream. “You'll have to spend an extra two hours in the exercise room for that, darling,” as he chuckled about her weight problem.
“Don't tease me, Steve. You know I just love hot fudge arid whipped cream,” as she proceeded to place one spoon after another into her mouth, and her smile showed her enjoyment. She finished her desert and sipped on her hot cup of coffee. “Steve, I'm going to warn you of some possible trouble ahead. It may cause you and Linda some grief.”
“What trouble, honey?” Steve commented as he sipped more of his beer.
“As you know darling, the Smith-Hughes funeral is tomorrow and I have been ordered to cover it live. My producer, John Hanks, has ordered me to follow it up with a full report on a lead story in the Washington Post. In their afternoon edition, the Post will declare that Vice President William Anderson is being considered by the Homicide Department of the Washington Police Department as the number one suspect in the Laura Smith-Hughes murder case. They are stating that Vice President Anderson had been questioned and grilled by detectives of the Homicide Department and that critical evidence at the murder scene implies that Anderson is their number one suspect to be indicted,” Maureen declared with some seriousness in her voice. “Maureen, sweetheart, all media information will be released by the Captain of the Homicide Department. I can't say anything beyond that statement,” Steve remarked.
“Steve, I had a terrible argument this afternoon with John Hanks that I couldn't report that story unless we had a confirmation from the Captain or any Homicide detective. The Post is printing a non-confirmed report. Hanks ordered me to follow the funeral report with our version of the Post lead. He threatened to fire me if I didn't.” Maureen was rambling a little at this time and Steve reached out to caress her arm and hand to console her in some way. “The gutless bastard. I would like to punch his lights ‘/ out and I may the next time I see him,” declared Steve as he finished his beer with a hard swallow. “If I report it on my newscast, it'll look like you leaked the story out. I won't hurt you that way, Steve,” she mentioned as a tear started to roll down her cheek. “You do as your ordered, honey, and don't worry about me or Linda in this matter. We'll cover our buns. Thank you for relating this information to me at this time. I may be able to use it to our advantage in one way or other,” Steve softly replied as he reached over and planted a gentile kiss on Maureen's soft mouth. “It's nice to know that your girl would put her job on the line for the man she loves.”
“I told John that to report the story without a department confirmation was callous and unprofessional. All he worried about was that everyone was going to report the Post story, so we had to also, to protect our ratings. I'll report it, Steve, but if t isn't confirmed by air time, I'll state so. If the Washington Post wishes to be so un-professional, so be it,” Maureen declared as she grabbed Steve's arm and caressed it.
“I love you very much, beautiful. Right now, I want you t badly. Let's go to your place and I'll show you how I feel at this time.”
“Steve, you read my mind,” and she rose from her chair Steve paid the bill} and they hurried out of Dominico's and hurried to Maureen’s apartment. When they arrived, the sexual fantasies that each dreamed about were created into real passion. The love that each had for another was demonstrated openly and frequently. They ended up lying in bed, both exhausted and worn down. Sleep was a splendid reward to their night's journey into fantasy land.
• • •
Upon awakening the next morning, Steve found Maureen next to him, lying on her stomach. He slowly reached over and started to plant kisses on the back of her neck and started to caress her breasts with his hands. He was attempting to arouse her to have sex again, but she turned her head and stated. “I need some sleep, darling, or I'll be a mess today. I'll take a rain-check until tonight, please,” and with that remark, she plopped her head back down into her pillow. Steve kissed her on the nape of the neck and then he slowly uncovered her body and placed a hickey on one of her buttocks. All she did was wiggle a little and try to return to slumberland. Steve chuckled and politely covered her up, and kissed her gently on the head. He then washed and had some breakfast before he headed off to work.
When he arrived at Headquarters, Linda, as usual, was working at her desk. She was already working on the case and t had made several calls to cover a few leads that were discussed yesterday.
“Let's see what hits the fan today. This case is going to make a lot of noise before the day is out, partner,” Steve remarked as he poured himself a cup of hot coffee. As he was stirring his sugar in his cup, he glanced at the Captain's office waiting for his impending call, but the door was closed for now.
“Smith-Hughes’ attorney called and notify us that his client would be here at 10:30 sharp for our interrogation appointment. We're scheduled to use Conference Room 320,” Linda reported as she turned in her chair to look at Steve. “I have a hunch that Jonathan Smith-Hughes may be our man if he can't prove he's not our Mr. Petersen.”
“He's still suspect number two, but nailing him may be difficult. You can't be in two places at the same time. He could have the perfect alibi—being in Chicago at the time of the murder,” interjected Steve. “This leaves us with you-know-who and his story still has to be checked out completely.”
“Let's schedule some time and go over the whole file again, Steve. There's something we may have missed or skipped over.”
“Linda, this case is growing as each day goes by—” Steve was interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing. He promptly answered it and jotted down the message that was related to him. “Well, our meeting with Jonathan Smith-Hughes has been pushed back to three this afternoon. His attorney does not wish to rush Mr. Smith-Hughes through his wife's funeral this morning. She's being cremated and her ashes are to be spilled somewhere in Chesapeake Bay by her sister and her family. Our boy Jonathan must be really shook up over her demise.” Steve chuckled as he stated the last remark, and Linda agreed with a smile. The two were then summoned into the Captain's office.
“I presume you have already heard the news, boss,” Steve exclaimed as he closed the door.
“Maureen had the decency to call me yesterday for a confirmation and when I declined, she explained the circumstances to me, the Captain stated with a growl. “We didn't leak this story, so someone from their side sure did, and this piss's me off.”
“I'll bet you, boss, that Anders is on his way here at this time, ready to accuse us of, this,” commented Linda as she turned in her chair.
“Let the little bastard try. I'll kick his ass right down Constitution Avenue and right into the White House,” roared the Captain as he chewed harder on his cigar. He then looked at it and threw it down on the desk. “How are we doing with Mr. Smith-Hughes in this case?”
“We have an appointment to see him here at 2:30 this afternoon. This time, he's coming prepared to defend himself,” replied Steve as he glanced through his case folder. “If we can prove he was the Mr. Petersen who returned on the corporate jet from Chicago, then we have something. If not, he has a good alibi.”
“Let's not close the book on him yet, partner,” chimed in Linda. “Captain, we may need some time to go to Chicago and check out his story. I have a feeling that he isn't telling us the whole truth.”
“Say when and the money can be arranged,” replied the Captain with an agreeable nod of his head. Just as he made that reply, a knock on his door was heard. Steve rose from his chair and opened the door to reveal Agent Anders waiting patiently to enter the room.
“Look what ‘the cat dragged home, boss?” Steve remarked sarcastically. Agent Anders entered and calmly sat in a chair near the Captain's desk.
“We have a problem here, people, and it's not of our designing. I have faith that no one from our departments has leaked this material out. We have nothing to gain from it,” interjected Agent Anders.
“Well, if our people didn't do it, who did?” fumed the “""Captain. “Let me guess,” replied Steve as he rose from his chair, “I'll bet some one in the White House leaked it out.”
“I believe your are right Ciminelli,” Anders returned with anger in his voice. “The Bureau believes that a White House staffer revealed the meeting the detectives had with Anderson several days ago to a favorite press associate at the Washington Post. The White House has shown before that they have little love for the Vice President.”
“Is President Patterson involved in this matter in any way? Does he have a finger in this case?” questioned Linda as she straightened up in her seat.
“As you know, Nancy Patterson is involved in some way with this case. The White House is only protecting her ass by setting Anderson up as the sacrifice, thus all attention is moved away from Pennsylvania Avenue,” remarked the Bureau agent with a frown on his face. “The President doesn't want his wife connected to this case in any way at all.”
“Is that why the Bureau placed a tail on us yesterday?” questioned Steve.
“It didn't come out of my office, detective, but I wouldn't be surprised if the President has the C.I.A. involved in this matter,” replied Anders.
“This may muddy the waters for us if we are ever to catch the killer of Laura Smith-Hughes,” remarked Linda in a sad voice. “This interference from the White House can put this case on the shelf forever, like Congress does to measures it doesn't want to work on.”
“Sorry to say you're right, detective Hannigan. All we can do is to keep searching for the truth and I'm one guy who wants it done, II remarked’ Agent Anders as he looked sympathetically towards Linda.
“Well, I can tell you this, the story the Post prints today will not, and I say again, will not be confirmed from this department,” the Captain declared with anger in his voice.
“The same goes for the Bureau, unless the Bureau Chief himself wishes to reveal the material. My section has been ordered to deny it,” Agent Anders replied. They nodded agreement and shook hands on their understanding of what to do in the future days ahead. With everyone in agreement, Anders politely walked out of the Captain's office and disappeared into the movement of the city.
• • •
Steve and Linda decided to take a lunch break together today and they ended up in a local Pizza Hut. Steve ordered sausage pizza and Buffalo wings and Linda had a salad with an order of wings, too. They enjoyed each others company as they consumed their food and continued to make friendly chatter.
“You know, Linda, it's strange that in the two years I can’t remember a time that I have tired to come on to you.”
“You just don't remember, partner, Linda replied as she paused before biting into some salad on her fork. “You tried Steve, believe me, you tried. Why do you ask now?”
Steve chuckled a little and then finished off his lunch and chased it down with some Pepsi. “1 don't really know but as I was watching you eat your lunch today, I realized what a beautiful woman you are. I quess you put me down so many times, I think of you differently than the other guys in the department do. I wonder, am I making a mistake with Maureen.”
“No, Stevie boy, you are not making a mistake with Maureen. Sorry, fella, when I think of you, no bells, no light bulbs go on, nothing. I like working with you. Sorry.”
Steve smiled as he placed his share of the bill on the t table and blew a kiss toward Linda and silently saying, "Eat your heart out, sweetheart.” Linda frowned with a smile and tossed a crumbled napkin at him. They left the restaurant and looked up at the blue skies. “Good day for a funeral,” Linda remarked.
They arrived back at Headquarters ahead of their scheduled appointment with Jonathan Smith-Hughes so they decided to go over the Forensic and I.D. reports again. They retraced every move and item of evidence they had. Nothing extraordinary, no mistakes in judgment and yet, Steve wasn't happy with their progress. “We need a solid motive for this murder. It's here but we don't see it,” he remarked as he placed some papers back into the file.
“If Jonathan killed her—Why? Her life style wasn't a danger to him. She wasn't demanding lots of money from him, so why would he do her in?” remarked Linda.
“Where does this lead our dear friend, Mr. William Anderson in this mess?” inquired Steve as he placed Anderson's fact sheet on the desk in the Conference Room. “His motive would be to silence the voice of his pld or current mistress. In political circles, that kind of scandal could ruin a person—just ask Gary Hart.”
“He looks like the most logical candidate with a logical motive for this case, but all the evidence isn't in on him yet,” answered Linda. As she was looking through some of the I.D. material, a knock on the door reminded her that Jonathan Smith-Hughes had arrived. He entered the room with his attorney right behind him.
“Good afternoon , detectives. Sorry if we are a bit late, but the services ran a bit over this morning,” he politely stated as he entered the Conference room and Steve instructed him to take a chair at one end of the table. His attorney sat next to him and opened up his briefcase and placed a legal pad in front of him. “I would like to introduce my attorney, Mr. Robert Stidwell.” Steve and Linda shook his hand and gave him a courteous greeting.
“We'll be taping this interview Mr. Smith-Hughes, for this will be a formal statement. Understand?” Steve remarked as he started a tape recorder that was on the table. A microphone was placed in front of Smith-Hughes and his attorney and another in front of Steve and Linda. Mr. Stidwell nodded his approval. “Let's start from the beginning, sir. Please, list your movements starting last Monday, July 11th.”
“I boarded my corporate jet around 10:00 or 10:30 in the morning for a flight to Chicago. I personally piloted the craft to clock in my required monthly hours of flying time. We arrived at Midway Airport around 2:30 in the afternoon, and my limo then took me to my suite at the Chicago Hilton. I made some personal calls and then prepared for dinner that night in the banquet room of the hotel.” Smith-Hughes reached for his glass of water and took a few sips. “What's next, detective?”
“Who did you have dinner with and-when did you leave your guests?” Steve countered.
“I dined with the people who flew to Chicago with me and two of my Midwest corporate officers.., My attorney has their names for you. Our dinner ended at aboutt7:30 in the evening and I retired to my room. I made some phone calls from my room and I called it a night sometime around 11:00PM. I was notified , of my wife's death by my butler sometime around 8:00 the next morning. These times can be checked with the phone company,” Jonathan Smith-Hughes related calmly into the microphone.
“If all that checks out, sir, you were in Chicago when your wife was murdered—sometime between 11:00 and 2:00 in the morning. Your corporate jet flew back to Washington that Monday evening and a mysterious Mr. Petersen was on board. Mr. Smith-Hughes, do you know a Mr. Petersen and who gave him permission to be on board? Your Chicago office denies such an order, but your flight attendant received one,” questioned Linda carefully.
Jonathan glanced at his attorney and then answered the questions. “As you realize, .bur plans for the jet were not planned with Laura's murder in mind. Our scheduled maintenance check was planned at this time because I wouldn't need the plane until Thursday, the latest. As for this Mr. Petersen, I know no one by that name and I definitely didn't authorize someone to be on that return flight. I was in my room relaxing and calling business associates when our jet returned to Washington.”
“We are still checking on that lead, sir, and we'll let you know when we find him. Maybe one of your flight crew gave a friend a free ride or someone knows your corporate habits Mr. Smith-Hughes,” Steve remarked and studied Jonathan's response to it. Nothing. “Mr. Smith-Hughes, we're going to have to take a sample of your blood, for testing purposes against blood samples left at the murder scene. Also, may we see your back to varify scratch marks we believe our murderer may have incurred.”
“Is this really necessary, detective Ciminelli?” Mr. Stidwell remarked as he looked up from his writing pad. “Are you saying that Mr. Smith-Hughes is a suspect in his wife's death?”
“Yes, if you want to put it that way, Mr. Stidwell. We have so few leads and we must check all aspects and people in this case. Does your client have something to hide, or do you wish we get a court order to accomplish this simple request?” Steve blurted toward the attorney and his client as they conferred privately as Mr. Stidwell placed his hand over the microphone in front of him.
“Alright, detective, we will comply with your request. Let us know when you want the blood and the unveiling of his back,” the attorney replied smartly.
“How about now for both. Linda, call one of our forensic boys to come up here and draw some blood samples. And, now Mr. Smith-Hughes, would you mind removing your shirt please,” Steve ordered smartly. Linda immediately called for a lab assistant to come to the Conference Room and retrieve some blood from Jonathan Smith-Hughes. While they waited for him, Smith-Hughes undressed to the waist and upon inspection of his back, no scratches were found.
“Thank you, sir, you can put your clothes back on,” Linda politely ordered. The lab assistant arrived nd in a few minutes, adequate samples of blood were retrieved and he was ordered to process them for identification toward the blood samples found at the murder scene or in the DNA testing.
“Mr. Smith-Hughes, you came back to Washington on Flight 512, Tuesday. Is this correct, sir?” Linda questioned. His reply was “yes".
“Sir, the flight attendant on that flight couldn't recognize you as the one-in your seat. Why is this so,?” she asked. “Detective, here is my cancelled flight ticket for my return to Washington.” Jonathan's attorney handed a cancelled flight ticket to Steve and he checked it out. “Also, I wanted to do some work and rest, so I switched seats with another gentleman and I sat in the front of the plane. Check with Beverly, the other flight attendant, and she'll verify my story.”
“Anything else, detective?” Mr. Stidwell replied.
“No, that's al for now and again, thank you for your help sir. We'll do our best to catch the person who murdered your wife,” replied Steve as he rose and shook Jonathan's hand. He looked straight into Smith-Hughes's eyes as if trying to find an answer to something. Smith-Hughes then slowly left the room with his attorney. As he left, the Captain entered the room and closed the door.
“Well, how did we do Steve? Catch a fish or did he slip off the hook?” the Captain questioned. Linda closed her file and rewound the tape on the recorder. She shook her head as she did this task.
“Not much, boss, not much,” she replied.
Steve looked at the two, and then stated what was on his mind. “Our murderer just walked out of this room.” The Captain and Linda looked up with a startled glare on their faces.
“How do you figure it, Steve? He has his ass covered,” Linda blared out. “It's too well covered, partner. I have a hunch he planned this murder and he thinks now that he pulled it off. I believe he made a mistake some where and I'm going to find it,” Steve, commented as he patted the backs of the Captain and Linda as they left the room.