“Not at this time,” Tracy said. “We’d just like to ask him a few questions about his late wife.”
“As we discussed on the phone, I’ll allow him to speak to you, but you can’t record the conversation, and I won’t allow him to answer questions regarding the prior investigation. I think we can all agree that ship has sailed and not without considerable disruption to Mr. Strickland’s life.”
“We weren’t on that ship,” Kins said.
“Be that as it may,” Montgomery said.
“Your conditions are fine,” Tracy said, not interested in pissing on the furniture to establish dominance, though she wasn’t convinced the ship had sailed. If Strickland had formulated the intent to push his wife off a mountain, who was to say he didn’t shoot her and drop her in Puget Sound as crab bait? But she’d let others make that argument. Right now, she just wanted to talk to Strickland and determine what he knew and what she was dealing with.
They followed Montgomery into the conference room. Graham Strickland waited near two arched windows that afforded a view of maple trees and the brick buildings across the street. Strickland’s appearance looked affected. He was thin and no more than five foot seven. He wore his hair short on the sides and long on top, a day-old growth of beard, and a silver suit that, as Stan Fields had described, looked a size too small, the pants short enough to reveal cream-colored socks.
They sat on opposite sides of a cherrywood table.
“We’re sorry about your wife,” Tracy said.
Strickland appeared caught off guard by the sympathy. “Thank you.” His voice was soft and an octave higher than Tracy anticipated.
On the drive, she and Kins had agreed that she would take the lead. She had a softer approach and they suspected from Stan Fields’s description of Graham Strickland that he’d be more inclined to answer questions from a woman. “How did you find out?” she asked.
“A reporter called. It was . . . quite disturbing.”
“Maria Vanpelt?” Tracy asked.
“Yes, that was the name.”
“What did she tell you?”
Strickland leaned away from the table, though he kept one hand connected, middle finger lightly tapping the surface. “She asked if I knew that my wife was the woman whose body was found in a crab pot in Puget Sound.”
“What did you say in response?”
Strickland broke eye contact and looked away. Ordinarily, Tracy would have attributed Strickland’s reaction to being emotionally upset, but his movements seemed rehearsed. He reengaged Tracy and said, “I didn’t say anything at first. I was confused. I thought the reporter had to be mistaken. I said, ‘You’re mistaken. My wife died on Mount Rainier six weeks ago.’ I told her I thought it was a sick joke and I didn’t appreciate it.”
“Did she convince you otherwise?”
“I hung up and got on the Internet. I saw the picture of Andrea, the driver’s license photo.”
“How did that make you feel?”
Strickland’s brow furrowed. Again, he hadn’t expected the question and was thinking through his response, like an actor still learning his lines and making acting choices.
“Sad. Confused. Angry. It was a surreal experience. This entire episode has been a surreal experience.”
“I take it you had no communication of any kind with your wife since her disappearance?”
“Of course not.” Strickland bristled. “I believed she was dead.”
“And you were not aware she had obtained a new identity and was living in Seattle as Lynn Hoff?”
“No, I was not. It was a huge surprise.”
“Did your wife ever express any desire to change her identity?”
“Not to me.”
“Do you have any idea where she got the identity ‘Lynn Hoff’?”
“None.”
“You’d never heard that name?”
“No.”
“When you were married you were in considerable debt.” Strickland did not respond. An attorney, he was waiting for a question. “Did you and Andrea ever discuss, maybe in passing, changing identities and starting fresh?”
Strickland glanced at Montgomery, but the attorney did not voice any objection.
“No. I believe in paying my debts.”
It sounded rehearsed and likely had been.
“Yet you filed for bankruptcy, didn’t you?” Kins said.
“What’s the relevance of that question, Detective?” Montgomery said.
“I’m interested in whether any of his creditors might have been upset they were stiffed,” Kins said, doing his best to tweak Strickland, and in the process hopefully making him more willing to answer Tracy’s questions.
Montgomery nodded to Strickland.
“Yes, I filed for bankruptcy. I had little choice after Andrea disappeared and the Pierce County Sheriff named me a person of interest. It completely disrupted my life and my business. I had no way to make a living.”
“Did any of your creditors threaten you in any way?” Tracy asked.
“I let the attorneys handle all of that.”
“So you’re not aware that any of them would have been angry enough to go after you or your wife?”
“Go after?”
“For the money owed.”
“No.”