Deadly Compromises by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 25
McKenna really didn’t know what approach he was looking for. Catching her in a contradiction would be immensely useful, but there wasn’t much to contradict. He could get aggressive and try to scare her, but that had already been done. He could buddy up to her, saying he was just finishing off the details of his job and hope she dropped her guard and slipped with something. He could talk about their shared Irish heritage, but she might not relate. He decided not to go to White Horse Lane until he had some plan. He went walking around town the rest of the day. He was in no rush. He wanted to take his best shot, gun or not.
McKenna walked to the local saloon and sat at the bar.
“What can I get ya?”
“A Jack Daniels and soda.”
“Here you go. That’s $2.50.”
McKenna put a twenty dollar bill on the bar. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
“You can ask. I don't know very much about anything except booze.”
McKenna reached into his pocket and put four more twenties on the bar. “Do you know Kelly Simburg?”
“Who are you?”
McKenna pulled out some ID and said, “I’m an insurance investigator.”
“I told you that I don't know much of anything. I don’t think she’s a big drinker.”
“Maybe you’ve heard other people talking about her.”
“No one here really knows her very well. She’s got a small circle of friends who don’t seem to be drinkers either. There are people who have lived here ten years and have never met her.
She’s a bit of a recluse.”
“Did they know her husband?”
“Oh, yeah, everybody knew him, or about him. He owned a lot of stuff around here and that a few years ago he married this younger woman, who didn’t seem at all like him. Maybe opposites attract, who can say for sure?”
“Big wedding?”
“No. I heard she didn’t want one.”
“You know that?”
“Not for sure, just heard some bullshit. It’s hard for anyone to know anything about her. She’s rich, but doesn’t dress like it. She does condescend to a Mercedes. She stays to herself or hangs with a few friends who are just like her, but are not rich. She doesn’t mingle. You know what I mean?”
McKenna pulled out another two twenties, holding them in his hand. “I don't know what to ask. Is there anything else you know that might help me?”
“I’d like the money, but I think I’ve said everything I know or heard already.”
McKenna put the two twenties on the bar, said “Thanks anyway,” and got up and left. He thought; “This is going to be difficult.” He aimlessly walked.
He watched people he considered lackadaisical going about their daily routines. Some were shopping. Some walked dogs. Some idly chatted. McKenna didn’t think that they probably had much knowledge of murder, business or insurance, other than what they saw in television’s fantasy distillations. They looked like they enjoyed simple lives without the big city rush. Boring useless
assholes. Everyone seemed to know everyone else somewhat. But hardly anyone knew Kelly. He went back to the motel, re-reviewed his papers, which led him nowhere. He, impatiently, decided to go see Kelly and just wing it. Surely he could outwit anyone who had spent their life here.
When he rang the doorbell, he heard loud music being played and for an instant caught a glimpse of a long haired girl who was either dancing or jumping around. The music stopped and Kelly opened the door, somewhat annoyed.
She glowered and sarcastically said; “May I help you?”
“Yes. I’m William McKenna and I was sent her to investigate your insurance claim.”
Her countenance immediately changed to one of cooperation.
She graciously said; “Well, c’mon in. The police, however, already know everything I do and hopefully more. Perhaps you should read their reports.”
“I already have. I’d just like to chat with you a few minutes and take a general look around, if that’s all right.”
“Oh, sure, sure. My apologies. I was just hoping for a day to myself. It’s been difficult. While I’m supposed to be grieving, business keeps coming at me from all directions.”
McKenna raised his eyebrows and repeated; “Supposed to be grieving?”
She immediately saw her mistake and thought that it was time to stop being kindly apologetic for her less than warm opening and focus fully on disciplined vague retorts called for in the situation. This guy may be tricky, though she didn’t consider it overly bright for him to advertise his desire for contradiction so soon in the conversation. She was thankful that the little one was so overzealous, that he couldn’t resist being so upfront, as it reminded her of her own need to be
“professional.” She chided herself for the lapse. She looked at him coldly, though properly and effusively said; “There’s a grieving process everyone in my circumstances experiences.
However, that’s best done in privacy and I’ve had a minimum of that. Sometimes I just want to blast music and try to forget everything for a while.”
“Yes, I understand. I’ve seen quite a number of people in similar situations. Well, I’ll do my best to be out of here quickly. Perhaps you can give me a tour of the house.”
Kelly led McKenna around, both silent, excepting small, innocuous, polite commentary regarding the various rooms’
features and hazards. They then entered the library.
He said; “This is where it happened.”
Kelly couldn’t detect whether that was a question or silly re-statement of well-known fact, but found it expedient to merely say “Yes,” to hold up her end of the conversation. She wondered if McKenna was so poorly prepared that he really didn’t know. Bobby had told her that most insurance investigators weren’t very bright, but maybe this one is an exception. At any rate it wasn’t wise to relax.
He spent some time there, looking at books, getting on his hands and knees around the few pieces of furniture, trying to look professional, but having no clue as to what he was looking for.
He stood up and questioned; “Do you spend a lot of time in here?”
“Yes, I read in here. My stereo is here, too.”
“Have you changed anything since the murder?”
“Not anything of substance. I’ve probably moved a few books around and of course I’ve cleaned up some.”
“Do you plan on staying here?”
“That’s one of those decisions I haven’t gotten to yet. So many things here remind me of Alan, I think I’ll move eventually.”
“You miss him?”
“Sure, what kind of question is that?”
“Maybe too pushy. My apologies. The police reports did indicate that your marriage was, how can I say?.... Unusual.”
“What is usual?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe I like hearing stories about childhood sweethearts who couldn’t stand to be apart.”
“Well, you should know that we met later in life. He provided a good income and I took care of everything else.
Pretty traditional, I’d say.”
“Is that all there was to it?”
“Of course not. How can I explain the depth of feeling in a marriage in a few sentences? It was there. Are you sure you’re an insurance investigator and not a marriage counselor?”
McKenna didn’t know what to say, so he chose to ignore the question. “There were no reports of forced entry. How do you think the killer got in?”
“I don't know.”
“Was it usual for Alan to receive unannounced guests?”
“Very, mostly people he had business relationships with.”
McKenna walked into the adjoining kitchen, followed by Kelly. “You said that you got home about 8:30PM that night, is that correct?”
“I really don’t remember any more. I’d have to refer you to the police reports.”
“You can’t remember something as significant as that?”
“No. At this point, all that’s significant to me is that I came home somewhere about that time, found the body and called 911. Do you think it’s a fond enough memory for me, that I want to dwell on it the rest of my life? Am I supposed to be thinking,
‘If only I’d gotten home earlier,’ and all that useless crap?”
She managed to cry a bit, not for Alan, but for the fact that she realized she was now dealing, not only with an attack dog, but one who loved his job and wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to be redundant and stupid.
“My compliments on your efficiency to date,” he said, ignoring the tears.
They looked at each other and both had the same thought, “I don’t like or respect you one little bit.”
“Was this a first marriage for both of you?”
“Yes.”
“You were 35 at the time. Did you have many friends prior to that?”
“I resent the question and question its relevance.”
Again McKenna ignored her and asked; “Are some of those friends still living in Castillo?”
Kelly said very sternly and slowly, “It’s well known around here that I have a small number of close friends and have had them for a long time. Are you playing marriage counselor again?”
McKenna bristled, fully realizing that Kelly was not one to give him anything useful and that he had already put her on notice that theirs was to be a contentious relationship. However, he also realized that he needed something not yet found and had no idea how to locate it.
“I appreciate your time, Ms. Simburg. If I have to speak to you again, I’ll call ahead for an appointment. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your dance routine again.”
They glanced at each other for a second. He silently turned and let himself out of the house. Kelly followed him and said; “Go lightly on the moonlighting job. It could kill
someone your age.” McKenna paid small heed to the implied threat. He thought; “Even if she is a killer she’s not dumb enough bother me. It would be just too obvious.” He drove back to the motel to think and turn in. He wished he knew where to go from here.
Kelly had nothing to celebrate, so she didn’t go to George’s. She was pissed and scared. She was now in no mood to resume dancing. She saw more use in pouring herself a double Jack Daniels. She thought; “Didn’t Bobby tell me that insurance investigators are cursory? I think he said that because they never caught him, but what about me? I wish I had some old B
movie about the subject, to help me formulate my own plan of defense.” She drank and refilled until she fell into a fitful sleep.