Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [43]
“That’s ridiculous.”
“He doesn’t think it is. It was creepy, really creepy. He was all smiles and happy talk during most of the meal. But then he got serious, very serious, and gave me this lecture on how he expected me to treat what I know as sacred, and that…”
“And that what?”
“And that he’d hate to see something terrible happen to me.”
“He said that? I mean, those were his words?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what he said. Oh, he couched it with lots of flowery talk about what a great career I have in front of me, and how much he’s appreciated the work I’ve done here. But when he said that—when he threatened me—my blood ran cold.” She looked behind her to confirm that the door was closed. “Jonell,” she said, “the Marshalk Group breaks the law every day. That’s one of the reasons I’m leaving. This place is a legal train wreck waiting to happen.”
Marbury forced a laugh. “Come on, Camelia,” he said, “it can’t be that bad.”
“It’s worse, Jonell. Want some good advice?”
“Sure.”
“Listen to Marla. She wants you to leave. You don’t want to be on this train when it goes off the rails.”
• • •
That same morning, Detective Charles Chang sat in an interrogation room with his partner, Amanda Widletz. Across the table from them was the handyman who’d worked on the Simmons house the day Jeannette Simmons was killed. He was a stout, barrel-chested man, almost totally bald, and had the red nose and whiskey veins in his cheeks often associated with heavy drinking. His name was Lou Schultz.
“Am I a suspect?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Chang said. “Absolutely not, sir.”
“We wouldn’t be doing our job if we didn’t talk to everyone who knew the victim,” Widletz added. “By the way, thanks for coming in like this.”
“I want to help.”
“Of course you do,” said Widletz.
“You were doing repairs on the Simmons house two days ago,” Chang said.
“That’s right.”
“Were you their regular repairman?”
He nodded. “I was recommended to Mrs. Simmons by a neighbor about two years ago. She liked the work I did, and I’ve been there ever since, part-time, general repairs, things like that, painting, wallpapering, fixing up outside. It’s a really nice house.
“But no major projects, no additions or things like that. I like to keep it simple.”
“Were you there all day?” Widletz asked “Got there early in the AM. I wanted to start early ’cause of the heat.”
“And you worked there all day?”
“Pretty much. I took an hour, maybe a little longer for lunch—Mrs. Simmons paid me by the project, so there’s no problem with taking off time now and then.”
“You ate there?”
“No. There’s a bar and restaurant about a mile away. I go there regular. Everybody knows me. Mrs. Simmons offered me a cold drink about noon and wanted me to come inside where it was cool. I didn’t want to do that. She was one nice lady. I can’t believe somebody did this to her.”
“Aside from offering you a cold drink, Mr. Schultz, did you have other conversations with Mrs. Simmons?” Widletz asked.
He rubbed his chin. “A couple of times. She came out once and admired the work I was doing on a stone wall.” He laughed. “She said it was a work of art. That’s what she said. A work of art. Oh, and when I took a break in the afternoon, I told her I’d be gone for about an hour. She told me to come inside to cool off, but I was uncomfortable doing that, so I went back to where I had lunch and enjoyed a beer. Boy, that heat was tough. Cleared up really good though, with that storm that came through last night. Some difference, huh?”
“What was the last time you saw Mrs. Simmons?” Chang asked.
“When I took my break late in the afternoon. Can’t say exactly when that was.”
“Your best estimate, Mr. Schultz,” Widletz said.
Another rubbing of the chin. “I’d say I left there about three thirty. Yeah, that’s about right. Three thirty.”
“And you returned when?” Chang asked.
“Was gone an hour, so it was probably four thirty, give or take a few minutes. Like I said, I can’t remember exactly. That’s one of the things I like about being on my own. No time clock to punch.” He hoped they hadn’t taken offense. He was