Chapter 17 #2
“It’s not illegal to have a gun cabinet,” Rachel pointed out. “Nor red paint, either.”
No, it wasn’t. “The only other thing I discovered is that he hasn’t paid his life insurance bill recently. There was a ‘second notice’ envelope in the recycling bin, and a ‘final notice’ one in the mailbox.”
“With the mob taking over his business for their own purposes,” Rachel said, “it wouldn’t be surprising if money is tight.”
No, it wouldn’t. “I thought maybe the policy might be on Nick. Is there any way to find out?”
“I doubt they’ll tell me,” Rachel said, “but it’s worth a try.” She turned to the computer. “What did you say the company was called?”
I told her, and she looked it up. Then she picked up the phone and dialed. “This is Rachel from Fidelity Investigations in Tennessee. I’m calling about a policy in the name of Dominic Costanza.”
A voice on the other end quacked, and Rachel said, “We’re a private investigative firm contracted by Mr. Costanza’s significant other. Mr. Costanza passed away this weekend.”
The voice quacked again, higher pitched this time, and Rachel said, resignedly, “Thank you very much. I’ll do that.”
She disconnected. “They want to see the death certificate, and proof that we’re entitled to the information, before they’ll tell us anything. Do you think we can swing that?”
“I doubt it. But like you said, it was worth a try. And they didn’t deny that there’s a policy with his name on it.”
“I don’t think you can assume anything from that,” Rachel said. “They didn’t confirm it, either.”
“But at least we know that there’s some sort of life insurance policy,” Zachary added. “And that Sal doesn’t have the money to pay the premium.”
We sat in silence for few seconds, chewing on that.
“Not sure why that would be,” I said. “The Body Shop should be doing the same amount of business as before the mob got involved. As long as Sal’s just funneling mob money through his own business accounts, I don’t know why his own bottom line should be suffering.”
“Unless they take a cut,” Zachary said, “and they might.”
“And then there’s the stress,” Rachel nodded. “I can’t imagine mob involvement is good for the psyche.”
No, I couldn’t, either.
We sat in silence another few seconds.
“If there is a life insurance policy,” Rachel said, “and it’s in Nick’s name, Jacquie might have murdered him over it, if she knew it existed.”
“But if it was Sal’s policy, then Sal would be the beneficiary.”
“She might not have realized that,” Rachel said. “I wonder how she’ll cope when she finds out.”
Not well, I imagined. “She was so close to getting her hands on David’s money when he died. Just another day or two and he would have been free of me and could have married her.”
“But instead she had to go back to her old boyfriend,” Zachary said, “who was devoted but poor—”
“And getting poorer all the time,” I nodded, “if he’d been gambling with the mob and losing.”
“And David took very good care of her.” He shot me a look. “Sorry, Gina. But I saw them come and go a lot, remember?”
Oh, I remembered. When I first met him, Zachary had been one of the doormen at the Apex downtown, where David used the penthouse as his love nest. He’d seen more of David than I had in those days.
I made a face. “Bastard.”
“I did say I was sorry. What I was getting at, though, was that she got used to a certain lifestyle. And then David died and she lost it. A hefty life insurance policy would help.”
It would. Except, of course, it wasn’t hers.
“And then there’s Mrs. Miller,” Rachel said. “If we’re right about the names, she’s his mother or grandmother, as well as his next of kin. I don’t know if that makes it more or less likely that she’d kill him.”
I didn’t, either. “People do kill their children, and he was paying rent, not living there for free, so he might not have known who she was. She might have hired someone like us to track him down after Henry died—”
“Or she might have always kept up with him,” Rachel added, “on the sly.”
“But either way, she got him into the unit next to hers so she could be closer to him. I’ll concede that he might not have known she was his mother or grandmother or aunt, but I refuse to believe that she didn’t know. That’s too much of a coincidence.”
“He might have found out,” Zachary suggested, “and confronted her.”
I nodded. “Although that would make more sense if he’d been killed during what looked like a fight. Or if she’d been the dead one. Whoever did this shot him between the eyes while he was asleep. He didn’t even wake up when whoever it was put the gun to his head.”
Or if he had, it had been too late to do anything but accept it.
“If it was Sal,” Zachary said, “he might have put something in one of Nick’s drinks earlier that night. He might have been unconscious, not just asleep.”
That would explain Nick’s overly-peaceful look, anyway. The bedspread hadn’t even been wrinkled. It was like he had gone to bed and not moved again.
“I assume, if you had seen something like that, you would have mentioned it. Did Nick have any problems driving home? Or walking inside? Staggering or weaving or anything like that?”
Zach shook his head. “He was a little unsteady, maybe, but he’d been drinking all night, so I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Maybe Mrs. Miller left him something,” Rachel suggested. “A thermos of hot chocolate or something, in the kitchen. For all we know, she came and went in his side of the duplex all the time.”
“It’s her duplex,” I agreed. “She had a key. Everyone else who wanted to kill him would have had to pick the lock, but she could have come inside quietly.”
“Jacquie probably had a key, too. We should ask.”
“She’s going to say no whether she does or not,” Zachary said cynically. “Would either of you admit to having a key to a place where someone had been murdered?”
Rachel shook her head. So did I. “I wonder whether Sal has a key?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Rachel said. “Not if they were as close as Jacquie said.”
We sat in silence again for a bit. Until my phone rang and Greg’s name flashed on the screen.
“I should take this,” I said. “It’ll only be a minute.”
The other two averted their eyes politely, Rachel back to her screen and Zachary down to Edwina.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice light. “How are you?”
“Gina.” Greg’s voice was warm. “I’m fine, but I’m more concerned about you. I’ve been thinking about last night all day. The paint, the vandalism—are you okay? Did the police come out?”
“They did,” I said, which was technically true. Mendoza had been there, even if it was just him and not an entire CSI team. “They took photos, asked questions, the usual. They’re making inquiries.”
That last part was a stretch. I doubted Mendoza was prioritizing red paint over an undercover operation with a murder investigation attached, but it sounded reassuring, and I didn’t want Greg to worry more than he already was.
Besides, Mendoza probably did think about me on and off. At least I hoped he did.
“Good. That’s good.” He paused. “Listen, I know this has been a rough couple of days for you. Why don’t I take you out to dinner again tonight? Nothing fancy, just someplace quiet where you can relax and not think about murders and vandalism and the mob for a few hours.”
I hesitated. Two nights in a row felt like too much, like I was leading him on when I still hadn’t sorted out my own feelings.
And more than that, I was rattled from the afternoon at Sal’s—the dogs, the guns, the mad dash back to safety.
The last thing I wanted was to sit across from Greg and try to act normal while avoiding any mention of my illegal trespassing.
“That’s really sweet of you,” I said carefully, “but I think I’d like a quiet night at home. It’s been a long day, and I’m pretty exhausted.”
“Of course. I understand.” His voice was considerate, without a hint of disappointment. “How about I call you tomorrow instead? We can figure out a better time.”
“That would be perfect. Thank you, Greg. For checking on me, and for understanding.”
“Anytime, Gina. Get some rest. And lock your doors.”
“Always,” I said, and ended the call.
When I looked up, Rachel and Zachary were both watching me with knowing expressions.
“What?” I said.
“Nothing,” Rachel said, too innocently.
Zachary just grinned.
I rolled my eyes and sat back down at my desk. “All right. Where were we?”