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We pulled into the expansive circular driveway in tandem. This time the driveway was vacant, and Sam had wisely decided to park the Cadillac Escalade elsewhere. I went over and gave Grimes our usual vertical handshake in a solidarity stance, then taking a half step towards each other to briefly pat each other on the back. I saw Detective McNitt startle at this sign of familiarity. We didn’t even have a chance to exchange pleasantries when the large oak door opened and Sam Todd stepped out.
He was dressed in a casually immaculate style, crisp khakis and madras shirt with a lime green sweater draped over his shoulders, loafers with no socks. “Welcome detectives. Thank you for coming all the way up the canyon.” This was a far cry from his usual aggressive and dismissive attitude towards me. And then he turned to me and said, “Hello. Ms. Blue, it is nice to see you again, and thanks also for coming up here – is this your third time in as many days?” He then turned to all of us and said, “I thought that we could sit outside in the garden. We entertained last night and the house is still a bit of a mess.” With that he began to herd us through a gap in the bushes toward the back patio.
The patio was a beautiful flag stone affair that could easily sit a dozen people. As he ushered us forward, he indicated that Grimes and McNitt should sit in the uncomfortable wrought iron chairs, while motioning the two of us to the cushioned chairs in the shade of a ancient sycamore tree. On the glass table between us was a plate of chocolate chip cookies and four glasses of iced tea with sprigs of mint poking out the top. Rivulets of water were running down the sides of the glasses.
“Now gentlemen, what can I do for you?” he said. He leaned forward to grab a glass, giving us the signal to follow suit.
“Yes, Mr. Todd, my name is Detective Charles Grimes, and this is my associate, Detective McNitt, and as I told you on the phone we are investigating the tragic death of a young woman named Penny Knox. I had the opportunity to meet her a couple of weeks ago, and she told me that she was a friend of your daughter Dessa. In fact, she said that she was very worried about Dessa since she had not seen her for several weeks. Is your wife around? I was hoping that she could also join us.”
“I am sorry my wife Cymbaline is not well, but if you have more questions, we can set up another time,” said Sam. At that moment the sun came out from behind the clouds and the two detectives started to squint. Sam and I remained cool in the shade. This guy is brilliant, I thought. He is acting the genial host, not letting us into the house, making sure that the unpredictable Cymbaline doesn’t stumble into the meeting, establishing my relationship with him based on our seating relationship, and finally seating the detectives in the uncomfortable chairs. Now they were beginning to sweat in the morning glare.
Sam remained quiet, making no attempt to fill the awkward silence that detectives often use to unnerve their audience. After several seconds, Grimes cleared his throat and said, “Maybe you can tell us about your daughter’s relationship with Penny.”
“Well, you would certainly have to ask Dessa about that – as a father of two I have certainly learned over the years not to speak for my children,” he said with a laugh. Again the silence as Sam leaned back comfortably in his recliner.
“You never met Penny?” Detective McNitt said too abruptly. Sam clearly had control of the conversation now.
“No I never met her, but Mrs. Todd did when Penny and Dessa stopped by for lunch, although she did not know the girl’s name at the time. One of the reasons I asked Ms. Blue to join us was that she was there when my wife described the meeting, and I know that she could give an accurate description of the conversation.” He turned to me with an untroubled face.
Another brilliant strategy. This was the trickiest part of the interview, with the greatest potential for an inaccuracy, depending on how much Grimes knew about Penny and her father, and Sam just threw the issue into my lap. “Yes,” I said, “apparently Dessa and Penny stopped by this house for lunch, and this was the first and only time that Mrs. Todd met her. They didn’t stay too long, but Mrs. Todd thought that Penny was taking an unusual interest in Dessa, and in this house, asking about paintings, furniture, that sort of thing.”
“Yes, Mrs. Todd was disturbed by this Penny, and even thought that she might have stolen something from the house – something from my dressing table I think,” added Todd, appearing very eager to help and at the same time casually trying to discredit Penny. I nodded in agreement, pleased that Todd had added the detail about the stolen item on the off chance that the policy had found an identifiable item among Penny’s belongings.
We both waited for the next question, clearly establishing that this was not a conversation, but an interview. Grimes then asked, “Penny Knox was the daughter of Johnny Knox. Do you know him?”
“Yes, Mr. Knox has worked for me on and off for many years. Currently he is managing a building I own in Santa Teresa. That includes the coffee shop on the corner and a couple of apartments above it. My daughter lived in one of the apartments, and so Mr. Knox was technically her landlord.” Another smooth move on his part – establishing his credibility by confirming information that the detectives already knew.
“Mr. Todd, Johnny Knox told us that you owe him money. Is that correct?”
“It is well known that the real estate market is very challenging, and as a result, my company has instituted a furlough system. Perhaps that is what Knox is referring to – but I would have to check with my payroll department.”
“Mr. Todd, can you give us any information on the whereabouts of your daughter? We would really like to talk with her.”
“I am sorry that I do not know where Dessa is right now, but she is an adult and has often taken off on her own. She has been gone for a bit longer than usual, which is why we have asked Ms. Blue to make contact with her. I think that I have told you everything I can and I will pass on your request when we hear from Dessa.” Another brilliant choice of words – Dessa was ‘gone,’ and not ‘missing,’ I was trying to ‘make contact’ and not ‘find.’
He stood up to shake hands with the detectives. McNitt had just put a cookie in his mouth. The chocolate had melted in the sun and made a smear on his face. As he extended his hand, Todd looked down and grimaced as he noticed smeared chocolate on McNitt’s hands, so he did not extend his hand in return. McNitt eyes darted around looking for a napkin to clean up. There were none and he had no other choice but to wipe his hands on his pants and then extend his hand. I felt certain at this moment that the lack of napkins was intentional. After all, Todd had not taken a cookie.
As we walked back to the car, Todd gave me a little nod, and I knew to stay after the detectives left. Nothing further was said as Grimes and McNitt, his face still a chocolaty mess, climbed into their car and crunched out of the driveway. When Todd turned back to me his face was contorted into an angry scowl. “Those ass-wipe, chicken shit detectives. They had no business asking me about my business. The one thing that I demand from my employees is loyalty, and they get it in return. That fucking Johnny Knox – how dare he tell them about my business? I really almost lost it in there – first time in 30 years that I have come that close to losing it.”
It was a little difficult to decide how to respond to such monumental anger, but I turned to the all purpose strategy of ego stroking. “Mr. Todd, I talked with your lawyer Gene Cartwright earlier this morning and he said that you knew how to deal with any type of interview, and I have to agree. You did a great job, answering their questions very specifically and not giving them any extra information.”
“Well thank you, Ms. Blue, for recognizing that I know what I am doing. I can handle anyone, but I certainly don’t want Mrs. Todd to get involved at all. She would crumble instantly. Not that she would have anything else to add, but she does not handle stress well. You now know more about my family that I would ever want a stranger to know, so I am sure you understand that this is privileged. Do you think that they will want to interview her?”
As he turned to me his face had softened again and his eyes looked a bit misty. “Based on what I know, I don’t think so, but the police may have more information that I do. For example, they might have an eyewitness of sorts who perhaps gave them a partial description of the car that hit Penny, and they can find out what kind of cars you own from the DMV. If they match …” I just shrugged my shoulders and waited for an explosive reaction to the veiled accusation. “I’m just being hypothetical here.”
“Ms. Blue are you saying that we need alibis? That’s okay, I do appreciate your honesty – it’s the dishonesty, disloyalty and dissembling that set me off. People doing their jobs, I have no complaint about that. Thank you very much for your time, and I have one additional item to your agenda. Figure out what Johnny Knox is up to – and his daughter. Sounds like there might be some connection to Dessa and I would like to handle this internally. Please call me every evening with an update.” He gave me a brief handshake and then quickly slipped through the large front door.
As I got back into the car, I realized that he was still holding me at arm’s length. He felt no need to proclaim his innocence, provide alibis, or tell me what kind of cars he owned, all reactions I would have expected from the purely innocent. He was treating me only slightly better than the detectives – providing me with bits and scraps of information at his discretion and giving me a better seat at the table. Certainly I’ve had better clients – the desperate and purely innocent are good examples, but on the other hand, I was glad that he did not ask me anything about Goddard. I wanted to adopt the same strategy regarding his son – keep Papa Todd on a need to know basis.
I was planning to go to CutterCity anyway, but given Todd’s new directive, I decided to make Johnny Knox’s Trucking and Repair Shop my first stop. I checked my phone messages as I went down the canyon. The first was from a slightly hysterical Nick Nichol. “Liza what the hell are you doing to Goddard? I went to his studio this morning to check up on him, and there is a big CLOSED sign on the door. Then there is a message on my machine that he can’t go through with it anymore, some sort of drivel like that and that he is taking off again. I am supposed to either run his gallery or just close it down and sell the photos. He is not answering my messages. How can anyone be so irresponsible – Sam and Cymbaline have been more than patient with that ingrate. Call me.”
The second message was from a very somber Goddard. “Good morning Liza. Thank you for all your wise counsel last night. It really cleared my head. I know that I have to make it right with Dessa and I think that it would be best if I found her on my own, so that is what I am going to do. Please respect that. I described my bar room combatant to Ralph and Fanny this morning – they are so great by the way, think you so much for reintroducing us – and it does seem that my black eye, which is getting more glorious as the day wears on, was given to me courteous of one Johnny Knox. There must be some bad blood between the Knox family and ours and Dessa might have gotten caught up in the crossfire. I will leave that part of the investigation to you. And one last tip – I think that my Uncle Polly might be involved too. You will get a kick out of talking with that idiot. Good bye and let’s wish each other luck.”
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