Another Senseless Killing (8) "Well, if it's the same Herb Rowland --- and I'll bet it is --- he's a worthless two bit piece of shit!" "Say what you mean, Nick. Don't hold back." I slowed down. "Speaking of shit --- " I pointed to the JOHN CARVER MODELING AGENCY. I parked in front of the building under a sign that said 'two hour parking'. I hoped it wouldn't be that long. We got out of the car quickly and went inside. Nick led the way. I stayed close behind. The blond wasn’t at her desk. In her place was a young girl with coal black hair, too much make-up, and an exceptionally low cut dress. "Hello." Nick said. He couldn't take his eyes off her cleavage either. "Can I help you?" Her throaty voice added to her sexiness. "Is Mr. Carver in?" I asked. And are you sleeping with him? "Do you have an appointment?" She asked in an official sounding tone. I flashed a smile. Nick flashed a badge. The badge won. She sat up straight, never taking her eyes off it. She ignored my smile. "What happened to the blond?" I asked and smiled again. She turned to me and returned the smile. "Marti is off today." "I see." I said casually. Nick asked, "Did you know Kate Blair?" Her smile vanished. "I --- I read in the papers that someone killed her." He repeated the question. "Did you know her?" She cleared her throat nervously. "No. Not very well. I saw her once in a while, but I really didn't know her." She stood up. "I'll see if Mr. Carver is in. I just got here myself." As she walked to the door, her dress hiked up above her knees and clung tightly to her ass. I knew I was staring. So did she. "Careful, Nick." I waved my finger at him playfully. "You're married --- with children." "Just looking, Manny." He sighed. "It's about all I can do these days." While we waited, I pointed out the rooms. I also filled him in again on my previous encounter with Carver, re-emphasizing his reaction when Margo confronted him blatantly about him and Kate Blair. "I know, Manny. You told me on the way down here. I'm not senile, okay?" "I just want to make sure I didn't leave anything out." "You didn't." He hit my arm gently. "Relax." We continued to wait, wondering why it was taking so long. "Do you have Warner's photo?" I asked. "The blown up driver's license." He patted the pocket of his shirt. "Compliments of Juan Morales." Carver's office door opened just wide enough to allow the receptionist to exit, then closed rapidly. "Mr. Carver isn't in." I knew she was lying. Nick and I flashed a brief look at each other. "When will he be back?" I asked politely. She walked quickly back to her desk. "I --- I really don't know." "Well." said Nick. "Why don't we just wait." Nick knew she was lying too. "I hope that's okay." Nick added with a phony smile. He pasted on a fake smile better than anyone I know. "It could be quite a wait." She said. Phony smile now faced phony smile. "We have all day." Nick said calmly. The dark haired beauty began to absently move papers around on her desk. Then she began to move her ass around on her seat. "What's your name?" I asked point blank. She was caught off guard. Apparently visitors didn't socialize with the help. She batted her long false eyelashes. "Brenda. Why?" "Oh --- " I shrugged. " --- no reason." During a prolonged silence, I could hear faint sounds coming from one of the rooms --- familiar music. I scratched my head wondering which room was responsible. Then I turned my attention back to Brenda, hoping my smile looked as sincere as Nick's. She looked confused and uncertain whether to sit down or stand up. Her gaze kept going back to Carver's closed office door. "Where are the models?" I asked. She looked at me as if she didn't know what the hell I meant. "Models?" "Yes." I repeated. "Where are the models?" She avoided my question. "Let me check one of the other offices." and went back inside. Then I recognized the music as Swan Lake. Class had to be in session --- somewhere. Brenda returned quickly, all flustered. "I --- I guess he's in after all." Her cheeks looked redder and there was moisture on her upper lip and forehead. "I seem to have made a mistake." "How fortunate for all of us." I said glibly. She left the door open and walked past us to her desk. When she sat down she put her knees together and turned her full attention to the appointment book in front of her. "You didn't make a mistake." Nick's smile was gone. "You knew --- " "Gentlemen!" John Carver materialized in front of his office. He wore a white short sleeve dress shirt, no tie and a dour expression. "I believe you wanted to see me." He cast a quick and disparaging glance at Brenda as we followed him into his private office. Carver took two chairs from against the wall and placed them in front of his desk just as he had done when Margo and I saw him five days ago. The room looked exactly the same. Then he sat down heavily behind his uncluttered desk. The shade was drawn but there was still enough light to see the apprehension on his face. He pushed his glasses up on his sweaty nose, looked at his watch, then folded his hands under his double chin. "I assume you two are here in reference to Kate Blair's unfortunate demise." "I knew you would have heard all about it, John." I said sardonically. His apprehension quickly turned to fury. And it was aimed in my direction. "News like that travels extraordinarily fast in the artistic community!" He took a slow raspy breath, then added, "And besides, it was in all the papers and on TV." "Is that what we have here, John --- " I continued to be flippant. " --- an artistic community?" He looked to Nick for help and got none, so I went on. "Tell me, John, where are all your models?" He started to respond, but I cut him off. "The last time I was here it was empty too." He hesitated a moment. "School was --- out today. I had a lot of bookwork and we were short on teachers, so --- " He turned toward Foley again. "I am quite busy. Can we please get to the matter at hand?" "The reason I asked was --- well, I heard this ballet music and I thought --- " "I was testing the acoustics!" Then he snapped his head toward Foley and just glared. I wondered if fire was going to spew from his nostrils. Nick took a cigar out of his vest pocket and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. "You're not actually going to smoke that --- that thing in here, are you?" Carver was livid. Nick shook his head. "I don't smoke 'em. I only chew on 'em." Then he studied his cigar and put it back in his pocket. Carver grunted. I pulled out a pack of Camels. "What about these?" Carver's jowls tightened and his eyes bulged. "Absolutely not!" "Well --- I don't know if I can get through this meeting without one." Carver leaned in and glared at me. I knew he wanted to kill me. "Force yourself!" I put the cigarettes away. Nick and I both sat back, starring silently at this schmuck. John looked at his watch again. I wanted to rip it off his fat hairy arm. Carver turned to Foley. "I have already spoken to --- " He nodded his head in my direction. " --- him. And to Kate's hysterical sister!" I started to get up but Nick, sensitive to the situation, put a firm hand on my arm. Then he spoke quietly and calmly. "I don't care who you talked to. Kate isn't missing any more. Kate is dead. So now it's a homicide. This is a whole new ballgame --- okay?" He took his hand off my arm and leaned closer to John. His voice remained calm. "So I suggest you tell us all you can about Kate Blair." The plastic smile suddenly appeared. "It's in your best interest to cooperate." Carver's face became ashen. He hesitated before he spoke. When he did, his entire conversation was directed at Nick Foley. "She was quiet. Kept to herself most of the time." "Did she ever fight with anyone?" Nick asked. "Was there bad blood between her and the other models?" "No." Carver answered quickly. "Not at all. Everyone got along with each other fabulously." What a prick! "She was a good worker and she was a great model." He thought a moment. "She had a bright future." "That's what Margo said." I spoke to no one in particular. Carver licked his thick lips. "Such a shame. I feel terrible." His expression went abruptly from sympathy to rage. "That nigger did it!" "And just which --- 'nigger' would that be?" I asked sarcastically. "I don't remember his name." He took out a handkerchief and first wiped his glasses, then his face. "But I've seen him with Kate." I waited for Carver to snarl. I was disappointed when he didn't. "Is his name Herb Rowland?" Nick asked. Carver’s eyes lit up. "Yes. I think that's it." "What makes you think this guy did it?" Nick pushed on. Carver's eyes stayed on Foley. "Well --- because --- a couple of times I saw him push Kate into his car and --- " "What kind of car was it, John?" Nick asked. "I --- I don't remember" "Did she resist much when she was forced into his car?" He didn't respond so Nick asked it again. "Did Kate Blair resist --- ?" "What kind of question is that?" "Just answer it." Nick said. "I --- I'm sure she did." Carver shifted in his seat. "But you can't say for certain." Nick added. "I --- I don't remember." "John." I said smugly. "Sounds like maybe you need a memory course." Carver whirled his head towards me. "I'll ignore that remark!" "You remember he pushed her into his car." Nick continued evenly. "But you don't remember if she resisted." "That's what I said!" He snapped. Then after a short silence he asked. "Just what are you insinuating?" "Maybe she didn't resist." Nick went on. "Pushed and forced are not the same." Before John could respond, Nick showed him a mug shot of Herb Rowland. "Is this the man you saw?" Carver's eyes lit up again. "That's him. That's him! Why don't you arrest him? Why --- ?" "You cannot arrest someone for murder because he may have pushed --- or forced the victim into his car." "I still say that nigger did it!" Carver wiped his face again. "We know what you think, John." Nick said. "When we find him we'll bring him in for questioning. But we're a long way from proving him a murderer." Several eternal seconds of silence crept by. Carver blew his nose into his soiled handkerchief. Then he started to speak, but Nick cut him off. "You know, John," The cynical smile made another brief appearance. "your name was in her address book. And this makes you, like Rowland, a suspect." Carver's jowls tightened again. His beady eyes began to dart back and forth between me and Nick. "This is ridiculous. I would never --- " "Aren't you gonna ask us how she died?" I barged in. He didn't respond. I told him anyway. "Her head was bashed in --- then she was shot!" His mouth dropped open and the ashen look returned. "Someone in a blind blazing moment of rage hit her across the head so hard half her skull was destroyed. Then, as if that weren't enough, this madman emptied a thirty-eight into her and --- " "STOP IT!" Carver's entire body was one huge convulsion. "Why on earth are you telling me all these sordid details?" "Oh --- " I shrugged disconcertedly. " --- you never know when it might come up in a conversation." Carver's ashen face showed blotches of bright red. He looked like a large bowl of borscht. He pointed his finger at me, but he was so riled he couldn't speak. Then he whirled toward Nick. "I did not kill her! And if you two clowns think you can --- " "John." Nick said evenly. "No one is charging you with murder." "Yet." I added. "We're just talking here, John." Nick stayed in control. There were several more seconds of silence. Carver was sweating as much as he was squirming. I loved it! "John," Nick asked, "do you own a thirty-eight caliber pistol?" He shook his head without hesitation. "No!" His gaze was fixed on Foley. "But I bet that nigger does!" "We intend to find that out, John." Nick said glibly. "Now is there anything else you can tell us about Kate Blair? Anything at all." "I’ve told you all I know." He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose again. Nick stuck a picture of Curt Warner under Carver’s chin. His expression went from anger to fear, and his color went from ashen to red and back to ashen. "I've never seen this man before." "Your nose just grew three inches, Carver." I said. "Goddamn it!" he roared. I thought his head would catch fire and explode. "I refuse to sit here and be harassed!" "Just take it easy." Nick said cordially. "I told you, we're only talking here --- off the record, if you will." He cleared his throat and leaned in closer to Carver. "How about --- we'll tell you all we know and you tell us all you know. Fair enough?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Whoever killed Kate Blair also killed --- " He pointed to the picture. " --- this man. Curt Warner." He put Warner's photo back in his shirt pocket. "Okay, John. Your turn." "My turn?" Carver couldn't have looked more confused. "Yes." Nick went on. "We tell you something --- then you tell us something." Carver licked his thick lips and wiped his face with his handkerchief. His shirt was drenched with sweat. "I've told you everything! There’s nothing more to tell." Nick and I looked at each other. I admired Foley's coolness. "Tell me, John. Just between the three of us --- " Nick looked around the room coyly. " --- was your relationship with Kate Blair more than --- " "NO! NO! NO!" Carver licked his lips again. "I went over all of that with --- " He gestured toward me. " --- him. Now I just got through saying that I refuse to be harassed any longer! I will not --- " "Calm down, John. We are not harassing you. We are investigating a murder. You are merely being interrogated. And, yes, you are a suspect. But as far as I'm concerned, anyone associated with Kate Blair is a suspect." Foley then softened his tone. "Over the years, certain people at certain times have tended to withhold valuable information --- for various personal reasons. I needed to know if this was one of those times." Carver waited a long time to reply. When he did, he spoke slowly and calmly for the first time. "My relationship with Kate was student and teacher or employee and employer. That is as far as it went. There was never anything between the two of us." He took a deep breath. "Now. I’ve told you everything." Then he put his head in his hands. I wondered if he was going to pass out. I really didn't give a shit. I knew he was lying. There was another long silence. "John," Nick asked, "what kind of a car do you drive?" The question took him by surprise. He didn't respond. He just stared. "It's a simple question, Carver." I was out of patience. "What kind of car do you drive, for Christ's sake? A Ford? A Chevy? --- " "A Blazer. I drive a light blue Blazer." He blinked several times. Sweat continued to roll off his face. "Why, may I ask, is that important?" "Very large tire tracks were found at the site where Kate Blair was buried." Nick said. "B --- buried?" His myopic eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "Buried!" Nick repeated with emphasis. "She was buried at an out of the way and deserted cemetery in Greensborough Heights. The killer thought he had dumped her somewhere where her body would never be found. The killer was mistaken." Carver merely shook his head. Nick went on. "We feel it's a strong possibility that the person who made those tire tracks is the one responsible for killing both Kate Blair and Curt Warner." "And you think --- " Nick finished Carver’s sentence. "Those tire tracks came from a utility vehicle." He sat back smugly. "A Blazer is a utility vehicle." Carver's borsht complexion returned. "Are you insinuating --- ?" "Hey. Come on, John." Nick spoke as if he were talking to a first grader. "We're not insinuating anything. We're just talking here, off the record --- remember?" Carver's eyes started darting back and forth between me and Nick again. "There are a lot of utility vehicles in this country. There are a lot of Blazers --- " "I would say," Nick interjected, "that we have a strong coincidence here." Carver stood. His beady eyes were like slits. "I have nothing more to say!" "So, John." I continued to be flip. "You're saying --- that's it?" He spun his head toward me. His tone was pure vehemence. "That's it!" Then he turned to Foley. "I intend to consult my attorney. I should have done so sooner." Nick shrugged. "As you wish." We both stood to face John. Then we headed for the door. With his hand on the doorknob, Nick turned back to Carver. Then as an afterthought, he said, "Just so you know, we plan on questioning both Brenda and Marti." John looked to be almost in a state of shock that we knew their names. "And, I might add, anyone else associated with this building: model, employee --- or both." Carver only stared. I know Nick's comment caught him totally off guard. "Now, John. Is that understood?" "And what if I refuse to allow you to interrogate anyone on these premises?" "You can't." Nick said. “If you try, you'll be arrested for obstructing justice!" Carver wiped his face on his handkerchief. "Well then --- I suppose you have my permission. Just be discreet." "We don't need your permission!" I said. Asshole! "Oh. One final question." Nick took a step toward Carver. "Do you know a Senator Reid Carlson?" He thought for a moment. "The congressman from Pennsylvania?" "That's the one. Do you know him?" "No, I don't know him personally. I remember reading about him. I've seen him on TV --- why are you asking me about him?" "You two have something in common. So I just thought --- " John's slits became cue balls. "I beg your pardon?" "His name is in Kate's address book." "So? I'm sure there are lots of people in that book. I can't possibly know them all." "Just thought I'd run it by you." Nick said. "No harm in asking, is there?" "So." Carver said emphatically. "This makes him a suspect too --- right?" "Technically." Nick agreed. "Did Kate ever mention Carlson to you?" Nick asked. "Nope. And as far as I'm concerned, he's a big fucking crook!" "I thought you said you didn't know him." Nick said. "I don't." Carver continued. "But he's a politician, isn't he?" "And you think all politicians are crooked?" I took out my pack of Camels. I was dying to light up in front of this prick. But I knew it would piss Foley off. "That's a broad statement, John." Nick said as he opened the door. "You guys get that nigger! He's the one!" "Yes, John." It was time to go. "We've established your feelings about Herb Rowland." "Don't leave town." Nick added as the door slammed shut behind us.
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