Hank and Helen were once again ushered into Sheriff Pettibone’s office as the station’s antique wall clock chimed twelve noon.
“Ya’ll are right on time, folks,” Pettibone said. “Deputy Mansfield will be along in a minute. Now, tell me what this is all about.”
Hank told the sheriff about Mansfield’s acquaintance with Susan Driscoll and about his frequent visits to her house. Sheriff Pettibone was extremely interested in Mansfield’s visit to her house the day after the discovery of her husband’s body. “I am sure his visit wasn’t for the purpose of offering her the department’s condolences,” Pettibone said. “The Shreveport Police Department took care of that.”
There was a knock on the sheriff’s door and he shouted for the knocker to come in. Mansfield entered and saw the Morans once again sitting in front of his boss’ desk. “What now?” he said under his breath.
“Deputy Mansfield, you know the routine. Pull up a chair and have a seat,” Pettibone said.
After Mansfield was seated the sheriff began. “Deputy Mansfield, these good people have uncovered a few tidbits about a relationship you appear to have with Mrs. Susan Driscoll, and you better have a darn good explanation for them. Mr. Moran, you can go ahead and present your findings.”
Hank began by saying, “Deputy Mansfield, we have a witness that will swear that you visited Leonard Driscoll’s wife, Susan, three times during the month of October. Your first visit was on October the seventh. Susan Driscoll greeted you at the door and you entered her house carrying a white envelope. You were there for a period of about three hours. Your second visit was a week later and your third visit was the day after her husband’s body was pulled from Lake Claiborne.”
Mansfield had no verbal response to Hank’s accusation. He sat there with a look of defeat on his face and just stared at the edge of the sheriff’s desk.
Sheriff Pettibone broke the silence and said, “Deputy Mansfield, I want to know what you were doing associating with a man’s wife just weeks before he was murdered and the day after his dead body was found. You have been a deputy sheriff long enough to realize that you are now a top suspect in the man’s murder, especially since you were in the park at the opportune time.”
Mansfield closed his eyes and sat with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. After a moment he said, “Sir, I guess I’m gonna have to come clean on this whole affair before that bitch tries to put the whole thing on me.”
“By ‘that bitch’ I assume you are talking about Susan Driscoll?” Pettibone asked, eyeing a silent apology to Helen.
“Yes, sir,” Mansfield responded. “I better start at the beginning.”
Sheriff Pettibone opened a side drawer on his desk and pulled out a digital recorder, turned it on, and placed it on his desk in front of Mansfield and said, “Go ahead, son.”
Mansfield started his story:
“A few months ago, I saw Lucy in the parking lot of the Chamber of Commerce building and asked her for a date. She turned me down as usual but this time she said she was seeing someone else. She just said it was someone from Shreveport and wouldn’t tell me his name.
“Out of curiosity, I watched her house the next evening and took photographs of the man and his truck. I ran his tags and found out his name and after that discovered that he was married and was over ten years her senior. I realized that Lucy had no feelings for me besides just being friends but I still had feelings for her. I thought she was doing the wrong thing by dating Leonard Driscoll and that she would eventually be hurt by the relationship, so I decided to try to do something about it.
“I took some more photos of the two of them together both at her house and over in Shreveport at a casino. I kept the photos on my computer for over a month while I was on call for that big burglary ring case. After that case was closed I had a few days comp time coming so I called Mrs. Driscoll and made an appointment to see her. I printed the dozen pictures and stuffed them into a white envelope. When she looked at the pictures she wasn’t upset at all—in fact, she more or less seduced me and we wound up in her bedroom.
“She called me a week later and asked me to come over again, so I did. I didn’t see her again until about a week later when I rode my bike to the park. I had called Leonard earlier that day and we agreed on a time for me to see his boat that he had for sale. When I arrived at the boat dock I saw Susan and her husband arguing. He was standing in his boat and she was standing on the dock. She glanced my way and I nodded as I drove on past. I didn’t want to stop and get involved so I just kept on going to the bike trails.
“About a half hour later, my cell phone rang and it was Susan. She said she needed my help down by the boat ramp. When I got back to the ramp I saw that she had Leonard’s truck and boat trailer backed partially down the ramp. I asked her where her husband was and she said he got mad and took off on foot down the road. She said that he told her he was getting another ride and that she could have the damn boat and the truck. I figured that he had called Lucy to pick him up.
“She didn’t want to leave the boat and truck there overnight so she asked me if I could help her trailer the boat and drive it back to Shreveport since she had her own car to drive back. I trailered the boat and as I was pulling the rig up the ramp my cell phone rang. It was the office calling me in to help with the hostage situation at the courthouse. I told her to go on ahead home and that I would drive the rig back to Shreveport later that night. She agreed and left and I put my bike in the back of Leonard’s truck and drove to my late mother’s place where my truck was parked.
“I drove the rig to Leonard’s house later that night and rode my bike back home. The following Sunday when I found out that it was Leonard Driscoll’s body that was found in the lake I was floored. I realized that Susan was most likely responsible for her husband’s death. I immediately called her and asked what in hell was going on. She asked me to come over to Shreveport and said she would explain the whole thing when I got there.
“When I arrived at her house she calmly told me what had happened. She said when Wednesday’s mail arrived she opened a letter that Leonard’s attorney had sent him. The letter included papers for her husband to sign to start divorce proceedings. She got angry and drove immediately to Lake Claiborne. When she arrived at the boat dock Leonard was preparing to go out into the lake.
“She told him about finding the letter and they started arguing. Leonard convinced her to get into the boat so they could discuss things in more privacy out on the lake. As they were motoring away from the dock Leonard called his brother to inform him about a delivery that had to be made the next day.
“Leonard stopped the boat when they reached a small cove and they started arguing again. Leonard became irate and slapped Susan across the face when she told him that Lucy was nothing more than a gold digging little slut. Leonard was slightly off balance from the rocking boat after he slapped her. Then in a rage at being hit by her husband, she picked up a wooden oar, swung it, and hit Leonard on the side of the head. He immediately fell to the small deck of the boat and lay there bleeding. She panicked when she thought she had killed him. She found a knife in Leonard’s tackle box, cut the anchor rope loose from the boat, wrapped it around his body a few times, rolled him overboard, and pitched the anchor in after him. As he was being pulled under by the anchor she saw his eyes open and look up at her. He struggled somewhat, but he kept sinking. He was soon out of sight.
“She thought she could make it look like an accident by leaving the boat adrift near the cove and walking back on the fire trail to the parking lot, but then she remembered that I saw her at the dock. That’s when she called me for help, as I told you previously.
“She then threatened if I told anyone what she did, she would testify I was in the boat with them, and I was the one who had murdered Leonard. It would have been her word against mine. She is a very convincing woman and I thought the police would believe her over me. That’s why I didn’t say anything all this time.”
When Mansfield completed his story Pettibone asked, “Did you have any further dealings or conversations with Susan Driscoll after that Sunday?”
“No, sir, she called me a few days later, but I didn’t answer the phone and she didn’t leave a message. That may have been after she received the results of the coroner’s findings that the actual cause of Leonard’s death was drowning. Her husband was still alive when she rolled him overboard. I don’t think that news would have fazed her one way or the other.”
“Deputy Mansfield, you must realize that even if you are innocent of the murder, you will still be charged with obstruction of justice and withholding evidence in a murder investigation. I can’t let you walk out of here, son. Hand over your weapon and badge. You will be held in a cell here at the station while we get Mrs. Driscoll’s side of the story. Formal charges will be made after that time. Follow me.”
Pettibone led Mansfield out of his office and escorted him to a cell in the rear of the building. Hank and Helen were still seated when he returned to his office. “Well, folks, we need to place a call to the Shreveport P.D. and have them pick up the not-so-grieving widow Driscoll.”
Hank said, “I placed a call to Detective Meyers when we were on the way over here and made a request for someone to watch her house in case she decided to leave town. I can call him now and have her picked up.”
“Be my guest,” Pettibone replied.
Hank put his phone in speaker mode and punched Meyers’ number on his speed dial. This time the detective answered on the second ring. “Meyers here.”
“Craig, this is Hank. You need to pick up Susan Driscoll for the murder of her husband.”
“Will do, Hank, but first you need tell me what brought you to that conclusion.”
“We just heard a testimony by Claiborne Parish Deputy Sheriff Richard Mansfield, who stated that Susan Driscoll confessed to the murder to him on Sunday the twenty-fourth of October. Mrs. Moran and I and Sheriff Pettibone were present. The testimony was recorded by Sheriff Pettibone.”
“You said that she confessed to a deputy sheriff nearly two months ago? What happened that he is just telling you this now?” Meyers asked.
“It’s a long story, Craig. I’ll fill you in when we get there in a little over an hour.”
“OK, Hank, we’ll have Mrs. Driscoll waiting in the interview room when you get here.”
Detective Meyers arose from his desk and greeted Hank and Helen when they walked into the Shreveport Detective Division office exactly one hour after making their call.
“Hank, Mrs. Moran, please have a seat and bring me up to date before I begin questioning Susan Driscoll,” Meyers said.
“Did she give you any trouble when you picked her up?” Hank asked.
“No, no trouble at all. In fact she was very cooperative when we asked her to accompany us to the station for questioning. She said she was anxious to tell what happened so that she could get back home in time for her bridge club meeting.”
“Sounds like she is full of confidence,” Helen said.
“The last time that I passed by the interview room she was calmly sipping on a cup of coffee. Now, fill me in on the deputy sheriff’s testimony so we can get on with this,” Meyers said.
Hank retold Mansfield’s story including Susan Driscoll’s alleged confession that was made to the deputy.
“Well, that’s quite a story,” Meyers said. I can’t wait to hear Mrs. Driscoll’s side of it. You two can watch through the one-way glass if you’d like.”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Hank replied.
Susan Driscoll put down her coffee cup when Detective Meyers entered the interview room.
Meyers said, “I’m sorry that I had to keep you waiting so long, Mrs. Driscoll, but we were waiting for additional information to arrive from Claiborne Parish before we could talk to you.”
“That’s OK, Detective. I enjoyed the cup of coffee,” Susan calmly replied.
“Mrs. Driscoll, you need to know that our conversation is being recorded both on audio and video.”
“Whatever is your pleasure, Detective.”
“Mrs. Driscoll, the Claiborne Parish Sheriff has a recorded statement made by one of his deputies, by the name of Richard Mansfield, alleging that on October the twenty-fourth you confessed to him that you were the person who murdered your husband Leonard Driscoll.”
“Of course he would say that. He’s a dammed liar. He’s just trying to save his own neck,” Susan angrily replied.
“You didn’t make a confession to him?” Meyers asked.
“Of course not. Why would I confess to something that he did?”
“Mrs. Driscoll, perhaps you should tell us your side of the story beginning on the day that Deputy Mansfield visited your house and showed you the pictures of your husband and Lucy Chatham.”
“Ah, the pictures, yes, that is a good place to start.”
“Please go ahead, Mrs. Driscoll.”
“A few weeks before he murdered my husband, Deputy Mansfield came to my house, while Leonard was at the store, to show me some pictures he took of Leonard and Lucy Chatham. I viewed the photos with amusement and told him the pictures were no big deal.”
“Excuse me for interrupting, Mrs. Driscoll, but weren’t you upset about the pictures?” Meyers asked.
“Detective Meyers, my late husband and I had an open marriage for the last year and a half. We were both seeing other sexual partners. No, I was not upset with the pictures. And, please, Detective Meyers, you may call me Susan.”
“Mrs. Driscoll, did Deputy Mansfield tell you why he took the pictures?” Meyers asked, making it a point to emphasize Mrs. Driscoll.
“Yes, he said that he was in love with Lucy Chatham and that he was trying to break up the relationship between her and Leonard. I explained to him that Lucy obviously did not have mutual feelings for him and that he was wasting his time pursuing her affections. He seemed to come to his senses then because we spent the next three hours in my bedroom.”
“When did you next have contact with Deputy Mansfield?” Meyers asked.
“I invited him to the house about a week later,” Susan answered.
“And what was the purpose of that visit?”
“You may just use your imagination, Detective,” Susan answered smiling with a provocative look directly into Meyers’ eyes.
Meyers momentarily lost his composure and then re-gained it by asking, “Did you have contact with Deputy Mansfield after that second meeting?”
“Yes, I did. It was on the day he killed Leonard. Soon after Leonard had left to go over to Lake Claiborne to show his boat to a prospective buyer, the mailman delivered a letter from his attorney. Being naturally curious, I opened it and saw that Leonard was starting divorce proceedings. This was obviously not part of our open marriage agreement, so I was upset after reading the letter and decided to drive over to the lake to confront Leonard. When I arrived at the lake, a man, who I assumed was the prospective buyer, was just leaving. I waited until he drove away and then got out of my car and walked down to the dock. Leonard looked surprised to see me and asked what I was doing there. I told him about his lawyer’s letter and we started arguing. A few minutes later, Deputy Mansfield showed up on his trail bike. He said he was sorry to interrupt, but he saw the For Sale sign on the boat trailer and said he might be interested in buying the boat. I was curious to see what Deputy Mansfield was up to, so I went along for the demonstration ride out on the boat. We entered a small cove and Mansfield told Leonard to shut the motor off. Leonard asked why and Mansfield told him he just wanted to make sure it would restart. When Leonard shut the motor off Mansfield told him not to restart it because he wanted to have a nice quiet discussion with him about Lucy Chatham. Well, it turned out not to be a nice quiet discussion when Leonard told him that he planned to marry Lucy. Mansfield became irate and threatened Leonard that if he didn’t break off his relationship with Lucy he would be in no shape whatsoever to marry her. Leonard then shoved Mansfield and Mansfield shoved him back, picked up an oar, and hit Leonard on the side of the head. Leonard fell unconscious onto the deck. Mansfield then cut the anchor rope from the boat and wrapped it around Leonard a few times, rolled him overboard, and threw the anchor in after him. I screamed at him saying that Leonard might still be alive. He then grabbed me by the neck and said ‘He won’t be alive for long.’ Then he threatened me by saying that I would join Leonard if I breathed one word about what happened. He let go of my neck, started the motor, and sped out of the cove. On the way back to the dock he threw the oar overboard. After we reached the dock told me to go on home and to remember what he told me about not telling anyone. I ran to my car and drove home shaking the whole way. The next morning I saw that Leonard’s truck was parked out front and the boat was down the street. I assumed that Mansfield drove the rig back to my house.”
“Mrs. Driscoll, why didn’t you contact the police after what happened?” Meyers asked.
“I was totally afraid to open my mouth. I kept hearing his threat and seeing the crazed look in his eyes. I knew he would kill me if I went to the police.”
“Did Mansfield come to your house the day after your husband’s body was found in the lake?” Meyers asked.
“Yes, he did. He came to threaten me again and said that I was being a good girl so far. This time when he threatened me he grabbed hold of my jaw and held a handgun to my head. I was terrified.”
“Well, Mrs. Driscoll, that sure is an interesting story,” Meyers began. “I am afraid we have to hold you overnight on obstruction of justice charges until we decide if you or Deputy Mansfield told the truth about which one of you murdered your husband.”
“Why am I being held on obstruction of justice charges? I was threatened with my life!” Susan shouted.
“Mrs. Driscoll, if you would have come forward, we would have protected you from Mansfield.”
“But what about my bridge meeting?” Susan asked.
“Mrs. Driscoll, you may make one phone call, Meyers answered. “It could be either to your bridge club or your lawyer. You make the choice.”
Hank and Helen watched and heard the whole interview and were perplexed by Susan Driscoll’s apparent sincerity. Meyers came out of the interview room and asked Hank and Helen to join him in the department’s conference room. When they were seated he asked, “Well, folks, what do you think of Susan Driscoll’s story?”
“Both Susan’s and Deputy Mansfield’s accounts sounded convincing,” Hank said. “I guess it all boils down to his word against hers.”
“Or there is a third possibility. What if they are both guilty and ratting on each other to save their own skins?” Meyers posed.
“That is also a possibility,” Hank said, “There has to be something in their stories that we aren’t seeing at the moment. We should just take some time to think about it. They are both being held and aren’t going anywhere. Maybe something in their testimonies will surface and point to whichever one is guilty.”
“You’re right, Hank. Let’s all go home.”
Helen had called Ali during the drive from Homer to Shreveport and Ali insisted that they stop by for dinner before they head back to Lake Claiborne. They hadn’t seen their grandson for over a week and wanted to see him before tomorrow’s long drive back home to Kenner. The investigation into Leonard Driscoll’s murder was now in the hands of the two police jurisdictions with one or both of the guilty people in custody. However, Hank was still perplexed that he couldn’t reason which person was guilty, Susan Driscoll or Deputy Mansfield.
They swung by the Driscoll Furniture store on the way from the Shreveport Police Station to their daughter’s house. Hank wanted to break the news personally to Peter Driscoll about his sister-in-law.
When Hank told Peter about the day’s happenings he just sat behind his desk in amazement and shook his head.
“I can’t believe that Susan could be capable of murdering Leonard. It had to be the deputy,” Peter said.
Hank replied, “We know that one or both of them are guilty. From what I’ve seen and heard today I think either one of them was capable of the crime.”
“I guess I didn’t really know my sister-in-law very well or even my brother for that matter,” Peter replied. “Hank, I want to thank you for your good work in finding my brother’s murderer. I just didn’t think it would hit this close to home though. Well, I guess your job is finished now. Preston is still helping out with the store’s accounting. You can give your final invoice to him.”
“I’m sorry to have had to give you the news about Susan,” Hank said. “There is still the possibility that she is the innocent party.”
“I’ll just hope for the best,” Peter replied.
Hank and Helen arrived at Ali’s house and were greeted with hugs from their daughter and grandson. Preston was in the kitchen stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce and Italian meatballs to prevent the mixture from sticking to the bottom.
“We’re having my favorite spaghetti and meatballs tonight, Grampa,” Chip said.
“That’s one of my favorites, too, and I’m really hungry. You better get yours before I eat it all up,” Hank replied.
“We’ve got a really big potful. There’s no way you could eat it all, Grampa,” Chip countered.
After everyone was seated at the dinner table with full plates of spaghetti, Preston asked to hear about the arrests of Susan and the deputy. Hank thought it was a good idea to talk about it, hoping something would surface from both the testimonies that would point to the guilty person.
Hank related the day’s events between mouthfuls of spaghetti while Chip listened intently. When he was finished, he ended by saying that it was Susan’s word against the deputy’s and it might prove very hard to figure out which one was lying.
Chip downed a mouthful of spaghetti and followed it with a drink of water and then said, “I know who was lying, Grampa.”
“You do?” Hank asked with a grin. “How did you figure it out, Chip?”
“I figured it out from the cell phone call that Mrs. Driscoll made to Deputy Mansfield.”
As soon as Chip mentioned the cell phone call it dawned on Helen what Chip was thinking and she said with a knowing grin, “Go on, Chip, tell us about the phone call.”
“Well, why would Mrs. Driscoll call Deputy Mansfield on her cell phone if they were on the boat together?” Chip asked.
Hank just sat back dumbfounded that it took a ten year old to figure out the puzzle. He congratulated Chip and rose from the table, cell phone in hand, and dialed Detective Craig Meyers’ number.
When Meyers answered the call he said, “What’s up, Hank? Did you figure it out?”
“I didn’t, Craig, but my ten year old grandson did. You need to check the cell phone records of both Deputy Mansfield and Susan Driscoll. If the call from Susan Driscoll to Mansfield around five-thirty on the day of the murder took place as Mansfield said it did, then Susan Driscoll is the guilty one.”
Meyers replied, “Please elaborate just a little bit more, Hank, I’m afraid I’m not following you.”
“Craig, as my grandson so wisely asked: ‘Why would she make that call if she and Mansfield were on Leonard’s boat together?’”
“Dead catch, Hank!” Meyers replied in excitement.
“I’m sorry, Craig, now I’m not following you. Dead catch?”
“Yeah, Hank, that’s just a term we use here in the department for when we finally nail the perpetrator. It’s short for ‘catching them dead to right.’”
“It’s also a good term for how this whole investigation got started.”
“Well, Hank, it appears your grandson started it and ended it. I’ll get those phone records first thing in the morning and contact Sheriff Pettibone. Thank Chip for me.”
“Will do, Craig.”
“Well, Hank, it looks like the investigation is over. Will you be heading back to Kenner in the morning?” Preston asked.
“I’m afraid so. By the way, Peter said that I should submit my final invoice to you,” Hank said.
“Just send it on up and I’ll handle it,” Preston replied.
“We do need to get back home. I have to catch up on the yard work and do a little painting on the house. We also have to look into the possibility of adding a room onto the house for an office. Now that I have a partner, we’ll need the extra space.”
“You didn’t tell us that you had a partner for your agency,” Ali said.
“I didn’t? Well, meet my new partner in the Moran Investigations Agency. Mrs. Moran, please stand up.”
“Mother?” Ali replied.
“That’s right, dear. I’ll be starting the process to obtain my license as soon as we get home. In fact, we’ll be going right through Baton Rouge on the way home, so we might as well stop and start the paperwork.”
“Mother, you’re incorrigible!”