Sleight of Hand

CHAPTER Twenty-Two

At dawn, Charles Benedict was parked where he could see the driveway of Horace Blair’s estate. The area around the estate was populated with other large estates, so there was not much chance that he would be seen by a neighbor. Even if he was, Benedict’s Mercedes was upscale enough that it wouldn’t draw attention.

At eight-thirty, Blair’s Bentley left the grounds and headed downtown. When Horace pulled into the Blair Building’s parking garage, Benedict followed. Blair parked in his reserved spot, and the lawyer drove two levels down to the general parking area. Charlie was wearing jeans, a baseball cap, dark glasses, a bland, tan jacket, and latex gloves. When he got out of his car he was carrying several items, including a copy of the key from Carrie Blair’s key ring that opened the trunk of the Bentley, a ziplock bag with the balled-up towel that was soaked with Carrie’s blood, and another ziplock bag with hairs he’d pulled from Carrie’s head before he’d buried her.

Benedict stuffed the bag with the hairs in his jacket pocket and concealed the other bag under his jacket. He waited until no one was around the Bentley to open the trunk. First, he scattered the hairs. Next, he pulled out the bag with the towel. The blood had frozen in the freezer and he’d stashed it in a cooler during the drive, but the heat from his body had defrosted it and it was wet when he smeared it across a section of the trunk near the edge. Benedict put the towel back in the bag when he finished with it. They would be incinerated before the day was out.

Several years ago, Benedict had been consulted by a potential client who was charged with stabbing his wife to death. The killer had wrapped the body in a tarp so it wouldn’t leave any trace evidence in his trunk. When he pulled the body out of the trunk to bury it, a smear of blood had been left. It was a dark night and he hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t a large smear but it was enough to send him to prison for life. The man had gone elsewhere because he couldn’t come up with Benedict’s retainer, but Benedict remembered the damage a tiny smear of blood could do.

Before he closed the Bentley’s trunk, Benedict took one last goodie out of his pocket. There was a golf bag and a pair of golf shoes lying in the back. Benedict moved the shoes and placed the .38 that had ended Carrie’s life behind them, where it would be easy to find. The gun’s serial numbers had been filed off, and there were no prints on the gun that could lead the police to Benedict. The gun would raise suspicions when it was found, and it would be powerful evidence of guilt when they dug up Carrie’s body and a ballistics test matched the bullet that had killed her to the weapon.