The Medical Examiner: BookShots (Women's Murder Club #16.5)

“Right,” said Carter. “That was easy. I went to the Warwick. I paid off the guy at the front desk and told him I just wanted to take pictures. I showed him my camera, and I said, ‘One picture is worth a thousand buckaroos.’ I didn’t have to ask twice. The guy made me a key and even put on this big show of welcoming me to the Warwick. Ha!

“Then I handed that key card off to my buddy Artie. An hour later, he calls and tells me that he’d done the job and that it had gone off perfectly. He was in and out in three minutes. It was such a relief. I figured that after that call, it was all over, except for the funeral, of course. But then, Joan comes home with gunshot wounds. She walks. She talks. She seems to be just about as good as new.”

“Huh,” said Rich. “That must have been a shock for you.”

Carter went on. “She completely wrecked it, man. Everything I’d worked so hard to coordinate. Hey, what’s your name again?”

“Conklin. Inspector Richard Conklin.”

Carter waved his hand as if Conklin’s name was unimportant, after all. He was into his story, though. He wanted to complain.

“The whole situation between me and Robert worked for two years—but then all of a sudden, Joan wouldn’t allow it anymore. Like, who gave her the right to say whether the relationship between me and my boyfriend is okay or not? Look, if you really want to know who was behind all this, it was Joan herself. She was the one who started it. She should have left us alone. Okay? Are we done now?”

Conklin knew it was now or maybe never again. The answer to this question was critical.

“So, Peter, you’re saying that Robert had knowledge of this plan to kill Joan?”

“No, no. I didn’t tell him about that. You gotta be kidding me. She caused it, but it was my plan all along. I figured with Joan out of the way, Robert and I could be happy. I never wanted him to know what I’d done to Joan. Correction, tried to do to her. Honest to God, that’s the whole truth. Robert had absolutely no part in it.”

“Okay,” said Conklin. “I believe you.”

“What happens next?” Peter asked.

“Get some sleep. And then you’ll want to get a good lawyer.”

“Call Robert, will you?”

“Sure.”

Peter Carter had relaxed back into a dopey, angelic post-operative doze when Conklin said, “Take care.”

Then he left the room with the taped confession in his pocket and said good night to the two officers on guard outside the door.





Chapter 31



Cindy was in an excellent mood.

Her editor, Henry Tyler, had been so happy with “A Miraculous Life.” It was her first-person account of Joan Murphy’s ordeal. In fact, Henry had liked the article so much that he’d ceremoniously presented her with a little statuette from the fifties that he kept in his office called the Smith Corona. The bone-china figurine depicted a high-stepping young woman in a business suit who wore a typewriter as a hat.

“This, Cindy, this is how I think of you.”

She’d laughed and thrown her arms around Henry. She told him that getting the Smith Corona was better than getting an Oscar. And it was. She surrounded the statuette with a forest of candlesticks on the sideboard.

In a couple of hours, she and Rich were having a special dinner in their small, ground-floor apartment to welcome home Lindsay and Joe, who had just returned from their vacation yesterday.

They decided to make the theme of the party “Thanksgiving dinner,” because the meal was so good that they didn’t want to wait until November to enjoy it. In preparation for their version of turkey day, Cindy had asked Claire to bring cranberry sauce, a vegetable side, and stuffing. Rich had stepped up to make his Thanksgiving specialty of the house since childhood: a yam casserole with marshmallows on top.

Brady had said, “Do not worry about wine. I will take care of the alcohol course, trust me.” And Yuki had added, “I can bring garlands with popcorn and cranberries. Believe it or not, I think I saw some of them out at the market this week. Even though it isn’t November, we have to make it look festive.”

The meal was going to be excellent.

Cindy had roasted the turkey, basting it properly, leaving enough time for the meat to cool before her guests arrived. Richie made his yams and set up the table in the dining room, adding in the extensions they’d never used before.

They had finally gotten the table ready for everyone when the doorbell rang.

Claire and Edmund arrived first, carrying covered dishes. After Rich hung up their coats, they went into the kitchen to help Cindy and warm up their hot side. Claire had an exquisite talent with a carving knife, and as she dissected the turkey, she explained each and every one of her cuts. It sent Cindy into fits of laughter.

Yuki and Brady showed up with wine and the promised garlands, and Brady hoisted Yuki up so that she could tack the garlands to the ceiling and string them across the tops of bookcases. He spun her around a couple of times, and she scissored her legs as if she were a ballerina. Everyone enjoyed the spectacle.

When the doorbell rang again, Cindy opened the door.

Lindsay, Joe, and Julie came through the doorway. Lindsay held up three boxes and said, “I hope triple-chocolate cake is okay. We have a couple of pies for everyone, too. It’s all store-bought though. I’m still in vacation mode.”

“Cake and pie,” Cindy gushed, and she took the treats from her friend. “That’s fantastic.”

A shout went up when the Molinari family entered the living room. “Yay! The gang’s all here.”

Everyone hugged Lindsay, Joe, and Julie. Even though it had only been a week, it somehow felt like more time had passed.

Brady opened wine bottles and poured glasses for the adults, while Cindy got a cup of milk for Julie. She asked the toddler if she was she glad to be home and smiled when Julie nodded emphatically.

Rich assembled eight assorted chairs in the living room and passed around the nuts and a cheese platter. While everyone munched on their snacks, they caught up and told stories and jokes.

After appetizers, everyone moved into the dining room. Once they were all settled around the table, with Julie sitting next to Joe on a kitchen stool, Edmund thanked God for their good health and wonderful friendships.

After the amens, Brady suggested they all go around the table and say what they’re thankful for, as if it were actually Thanksgiving. Everyone thought it was a great idea. He went first and said, “I’m thankful to be married to Yuki and for knowin’ all a y’all. I swear to God.”

Joe popped into the kitchen and came back with the turkey. He set it on the table. “It’s trite but true,” he said, “that I am glad for this big turkey.”

Edmund said, “Cindy, I am thankful you got Claire to make her chestnut stuffing because we haven’t had it in about five years.”

Claire laughed and said, “That’s not true.” Then she followed up her protestations by saying, “I’m thankful for you, too, Edmund, and for ‘all a y’all,’” which got a long round of laughter from the group.

When the laughing finally subsided, Claire added, “And I’m really happy that my folks sent me to medical school. Look where it got me. Bon appétit, everyone.”