Skye Richards was more than willing to talk about her former peer, although she preferred not to meet at her office. Instead, we caught up with her at a bakery a few blocks away from the building inspection offices. Wearing a light green linen blazer, tan slacks and a white knit top, she was seated at the only table in the small eating area. She glanced up and nodded as we entered. “Thanks for meeting me here. I’d rather no one back at the office know what I’m about to tell you.”
“Why is that, Ms. Richards?” Herc asked after he and I took the only other seats at the table.
“The last several months have been tough for me as far as my relations with my boss and co-workers are concerned. I missed out on a promotion with the City of Tampa because your victim, Mortimer Fonseca, took it upon himself to denigrate my work product when he was interviewed as a reference. The HR people in Tampa contacted everyone here at the office despite my asking them not to.”
“You must’ve been high on their list of applicants for them to ignore your request,” I told her.
She nodded. “I agree. That’s why my not getting the job cuts.”
“How do you know it was something Fonseca said that hurt you?” Herc asked.
She offered a sardonic smile. “Because he told me so himself. Not that he was glad I didn’t get the job but for the input he gave them. He was proud of himself for having provided what he described as a ‘spot-on’ description of my abilities and liabilities.”
Even after my brief exposure to the man, I could picture how pleased he must’ve been to have been asked for his opinion. “Did he tell you exactly what he said?”
“Word for word. In essence, he told them that ‘although I was a competent building inspector, I didn’t appreciate the need to follow the rules exactly as they had been written.’ That ‘in fact, I was constantly trying to update the department’s interpretation of various provisions, which only served to confuse applicants and make the job of building inspection more difficult for the rest of the inspectors.’”
“Was he correct?” I asked.
She blew out a huff. “That’s what was so maddening. It was true, but I’m sure it was taken out of context. Yes, there were times when I hedged a bit on rule interpretation, but only when it made sense to do so. And yes, I think the building code needs updating. I’ve gone on record about that more than once. Gordon doesn’t disagree, but he doesn’t feel he can devote staff time to such a project right now.”
“I thought the law required review of the code every so many years,” Herc said.
“It does,” she replied, “but it doesn’t spell out how thorough the review should be. Although Gordon does do a read-through every so often, so he tells us, he hasn’t proposed any major changes since I was hired.” She took a bite of the chocolate chip cookie she hadn’t touched since we arrived. “Times are changing. New building materials are coming out all the time, some of them requiring different construction techniques and having different properties. We need to be cognizant of those in our inspections.”
She seemed so passionate about her beliefs. Would that passion have been redirected toward Fonseca if what he’d said really had kept her from the job?
“How did you react when Fonseca told you about the reference he’d given?” Herc asked.
“I didn’t hit him or do anything physical, if that’s what you mean. At first I was dumbfounded as I tried to absorb the fact that one of my co-workers could turn on me like that, even Morty. ‘Do you realize what you might have done?’ I yelled at him once I got my voice back. He blinked and looked perplexed, like how could I expect him to have done otherwise? There was no point screaming at him. He was one of those people who don’t interact well with others.”
“How did things go between you after that?” I asked. “Especially once you learned you didn’t get the job.”
“Once word got around that I’d been passed over, everyone else, including Gordon, made it a point to offer their condolences, saying they were sorry I didn’t get the job but were glad I’d be sticking around a little longer. All but Fonseca, that is. He never said a thing.”
“How did you feel about that?” Herc asked.
“Numb. For some time. I went through the motions of my job so I wouldn’t lose it, but my heart wasn’t in it. I avoided Morty whenever we were in the building at the same time, and he seemed oblivious to my situation.”
“Where were you the last night?” I asked, deciding it was time to zero in on an alibi.
“I worked until six finishing up a couple reports. Then I stopped on my way home to pick up dinner and stayed there the rest of the evening watching TV and reviewing a couple applications for today.”
“Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts during that period?” Herc asked.
“No. I think Morty was here when I left, although I didn’t check on him. I just heard him or someone in his office. I went straight home, where I live alone, so there’s no one to vouch for me.”
We thanked her, and Herc gave his usual parting remark along with handing her his card. Before we left, though, he bought two oatmeal cookies. Always thinking ahead, that man.
Since we’d already talked to Donahue and Gordon, we focused on hearing from the other inspector, Walt Young. We caught him in his office, which seemed to have been inspired as a reaction to Fonseca’s neatness. Not that it was dirty or strewn with food wrappers or beverage cups. But almost every inch of his desk, a nearby filing cabinet and a credenza behind the desk held stacks of paper.
He appeared to be around fifty, hair already gray, brown eyes sharp and his face longish. “I have an appointment across town in half an hour,” he said by way of greeting, “but my time is yours for the next several minutes.”
“This shouldn’t take long, Mr. Young,” Herc said after introducing ourselves. “Let’s start with how well you knew Mortimer Fonseca.”
“Well enough to steer clear of him. The guy was a nutball. Yeah, he knew building inspection rules in and out, but he seemed to get his kicks and vindication of his existence from making things difficult for his clients. That’s not what our jobs are about.”
“Did you ever attempt to talk to him about his views and actions?” I asked. Although my question wasn’t necessarily germane to our investigation, I wanted to know how Fonseca’s approach to his job had been tolerated, not only by his supervisor but also his peers.
Young offered a snort in response. “Yeah, sure. At first. Vince, Vincent Donahue, that is, was his official trainer. He and I had been around several years and knew how the system worked. That in order to do our jobs and protect the public, you had to learn to give a little when the result made no difference in order to keep things moving. Morty wasn’t one to back down when he was sure he was right. He wasn’t the least impressed with all our years of experience. He simply pointed out that he was following the letter of the law, implying that we weren’t. After a while, it became clear he wasn’t going to change his mind about anything, so why should we even try, especially if Gordon wasn’t taking action against him?”
We asked him where he’d been during the period when the murder occurred. “Last night? The wife and I attended a play at the community theater. Afterwards we stopped off for dessert and then went home and to bed, where we were the rest of the night.” He was even able to retrieve the credit card receipt from the restaurant.
That pretty much wrapped it for us. It wasn’t until after Herc handed him his card and we’d risen to leave that a thought occurred to Young. “One thing I can say for Morty, he may not have been able to read the room or even wanted to, but he could spot a deficiency or an incongruous detail from a hundred yards. That’s what made him such a good inspector and at the same time was his downfall as an inspector.”
“Thanks. We’ll add that tidbit to what we’ve already learned about the man,” Herc said as we made our way to the door. Once we were underway, he was ready to sum up our findings. “We may have reached the saturation point as far as all there is to know about Mortimer Fonseca. Uptight, opinionated, a neat freak and a loner. Kind of a type, wouldn’t you say?”
“Sounds to me like the type that’s usually the killer, not the victim,” I replied.
He laughed. “You’re right. But that aside, I haven’t heard much yet that points to his killer. People don’t typically murder people that irritate them unless something else sets them off. So far, we haven’t uncovered that flash point.”
“You’re right. Not like anyone would hand us a motive outright, but you’d think someone would rat on someone else.”
“The only one they ratted on was good old Morty,” he said.
“We still have at least those two disgruntled applicants to see. Surely there’s a motive there.”
We had enough time for those interviews this afternoon, if we hustled. But just then Herc got a text from his boss, Jim Watkins. Captain James Watkins. He wanted to “chat” with both Herc and me about adding Valerie to the team.
“Good to see you again, Ro,” Watkins said as we entered his office. I hadn’t seen the man in some time, and as he rose in greeting, I was reminded once again of what a good-looking man he was. Tall with an athletic build, he was starting to show a few gray strands in his dark black hair, although I was pretty sure he was in his early forties. And those penetrating dark blue eyes dared me not to look away. But I’m trained to notice details like that and not react, and that was the case when it came to the captain. Chuck was the only good-looking man in my life.
Watkins had been with the department for several years and had worked his way up the system starting as a brash young officer fresh out of college up to head man in Homicide now. I didn’t begrudge him his success. He’d earned it. He was not only a competent lawman, he was also liked and respected by his peers.
Only one thing concerned me about him: He’d been trained by and worked for a while with Daryl Henson. Henson had gone on to work in Vice while Watkins headed off to drug enforcement. While in Vice, Henson had looked the other way, for compensation, at least with one house of prostitution. Herc and I only learned of this during our recent case involving a former madam. For a while, we even thought he was our killer. Though he proved to be innocent, there was still the matter of his past transgressions that had never been addressed. We couldn’t prove any of our suspicions at the time, but Herc was a bulldog when there was justice unsatisfied. One of these days he’d have it out with the man, even though Henson was now retired.
“Good to see you, too, Captain.” I wasn’t sure what I was expected to say, so I kept my response simple.
He turned to Herc. “How’s the Fonseca case coming?”
“Progressing. We’ve spoken to some of his neighbors, his supervisor and fellow inspectors. We’ve got a pretty good make on his personality but have yet to discover a viable motive. He wasn’t a likable guy, but that’s not enough reason to get rid of him.”
“Still interviewing possible suspects?” Watkins asked.
“Haven’t tapped the applicants who complained about his work,” Herc told him.
“That when you plan to bring in your daughter, Ro?”
I knew it was coming, but now that the question had been raised, I wasn’t sure where to go with it. Truth be told, Val’s proposal hadn’t really sunk in yet. I’d only agreed to it, and that was probably the case for Herc too, because I wanted her blessing for me to work on this case. Now, sooner than I was ready, we’d reached the point of presentation. I owed it to Val to treat this seriously.
“Valerie has offered her consultative services when technical construction concerns are involved. The two complainants fit that description. One is a building contractor who alleges the victim’s rejection of the work he did for some clients was costing him business as word got around about the rejections. The other is a restaurateur who claims he’s going broke making unnecessary changes to his reno that Fonseca ordered.”
Watkins tapped his ballpoint pen on his desk. “Do you two not think you’re up to absorbing the technical stuff?”
Trick question? I waited for Herc to answer, but he was leaving it to me. Thanks, Herc.
“We could do a pretty good job on our own where it comes to the typical questions we ask—what prompted their complaints, what was the extent of the injury to their business due to his rejecting their applications and if they have an alibi for the time period of the murder. But Valerie could help fill in the blanks about the technical details of their renovation efforts as well as call out any bluffs they might throw at us.”
“What about other suspects you might interview?” Watkins asked. “Would you expect her to participate in those also?”
“Guess that would depend on who those suspects might be,” Herc said. “Right now we’ve identified two more people to talk to, the one remaining neighbor in his fourplex we haven’t talked to and a cousin, the only name that appeared in his personnel records as kin. We don’t consider them suspects, just persons who might be able to shed more light on who Fonseca was. More than likely, we probably wouldn’t need Val for that.”
Watkins sat back. “You both make a good case, even though employing two consultants for one investigation is highly unusual.”
“Perhaps, but it’s also a way of possibly solving the case sooner and investing less staff time, especially now with another murder on your hands,” I said. It sounded logical, even though I’d made it up on the spot.
“I’d like to talk directly with Mrs. Kowalski before I decide. You two are welcome to sit in. In fact, I’m asking you to join us.” He glanced at me. “Think you could arrange a meeting as soon as possible?”
“Uh, yes,” I replied. This had been Val’s idea. It was only fair she sell it directly to Watkins. I was glad Watkins thought to include us. “I’ll see how soon she can join us.”
“We were hoping to get a few more interviews in today,” Herc said.
“You have no reason to believe those two persons of interest will leave town overnight. Those interviews can wait till tomorrow,” Watkins said.
Herc shot me a look that said, “So be it.”
I phoned Val. “Sure, I can be there in half an hour, if that’s soon enough. I need to clean up.”
Herc and I waited for Val in Watkins’s private conference room next to his office. While we sat there, we went over everything we’d learned thus far in our first day of the investigation, thinking we might not have given enough import to some small detail. “What do we know about vehicular homicide?” I asked him.
“Most fall in the category of accidents that could’ve been avoided, like drinking while driving. Or being on drugs. Haven’t run across too many cases where the driver deliberately ran someone down.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” I said. “When it does happen, as in this case, it says something, wouldn’t you agree?”
Herc considered. “Intentional but with little planning, other than to ensure the victim is the only target in sight. That what you’re thinking?”
“Yeah, although as late as Fonseca worked that night, the killer could’ve been hanging around the parking lot for hours, which calls into question the lack of pre-planning. But if that was the case, couldn’t they have just gotten a gun or assaulted him with a bat or iron pipe?”
Herc rubbed his jaw. “Interesting question. One which I don’t have an answer for at the moment.”
We didn’t have time to speculate further because Val entered the room. She’d arrived in twenty-four minutes. Not bad. She wanted this. I had no idea why.
She jerked when she saw us. “I didn’t expect the two of you to be here.” Her tone wasn’t quite accusing, but she didn’t seem altogether pleased either.
“At Watkins’s invitation,” I told her.
“You’re not like some panel, are you? Here to quiz me?”
“We’re here mainly to listen,” I told her. “My guess is that, if he approves this proposition, he wants to be sure we’re all on the same page. Makes sense to me.”
She was still standing when Watkins came through the door to his office. In a flash, his eyes took her in. He blinked for all of one beat. I swore I saw blue heat, but it was gone immediately. To the best of my knowledge, he’d never met Val. I got the impression he wasn’t anticipating what he saw. He quickly recovered, standing a little straighter. “Mrs. Kowalski? I’m Jim Watkins.” He extended his hand, and she took it. “Thanks for coming in so quickly.”
Val stared back at him and took a second too long before responding. “No problem. We were pretty much done for the day.”
He gestured for her to take a seat on the same side of the table as Herc and me. He sat opposite us. “That’s right. I understand you and your mother are now partners in a home renovation business.
“Nailed It Home Renos, to be exact,” Val said, her aplomb returning with the mention of a topic familiar to her. “I handle the construction part, along with a friend and a few subcontractors. Mom is the designer.”
“Your mother and Morgan here explained why you want to participate in this case, but I’d like to hear your thoughts before I make my decision, especially since, as you just admitted, you’re quite busy flipping homes.” He smiled. Watkins actually smiled. To the best of my knowledge, he’d never smiled since he lost his wife to a stroke years ago.
Val gulped before answering. Was she nervous? Who was this person? She was rarely at a loss for words, especially since she’d just been totally herself when she talked about the business. “I want to help.”
“That’s very admirable,” Watkins replied. “Why as a consultant?”
I couldn’t tell if his question was simply his way of determining how serious she was or if he was simply being polite.
She hesitated a beat and then launched into her spiel. “To be frank, I want my mom back on our current project as soon as possible. The best way to do that is to help her and Herc, Lieutenant Morgan.”
Watkins had brought his trusty ballpoint pen with him, only now he was clicking it repeatedly instead of tapping it on the table. He did this for several beats before speaking.
Val held his gaze, not letting the clicking routine get to her.
“Thank you for your candor.” He paused. For a fleeting moment, I thought Val’s self-effacing admission might actually have sold her proposal. He continued. “Would you expect to be paid?”
Why hadn’t he simply thanked her, rejected her offer and cut this meeting short?
“Yes, of course. I’m not volunteering. My expertise is valuable.”
His dark blues flickered just slightly. “I have no doubt about that, but …”
“You want to get this case solved as soon as possible, right?” she returned.
“Yes?”
“Then take me up on my offer. My mom and Herc are a good team, but I can help them cut through construction jargon that could be the key to finding the killer.”
Apparently the courses I took in construction engineering didn’t matter.
The ballpoint clicking started again, although he didn’t take his eyes from her. She returned the same. It wasn’t exactly a stare-down. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was making me uncomfortable. Herc shifted position in his seat.
The clicking stopped. “You’re right. I want this case solved and the killer caught posthaste. I’ll bring you on board on a trial basis for this case only. Your mother and Morgan plan to talk to two possible suspects tomorrow where your expertise could help.”
Val was out of her seat immediately and around the table, shaking his hand profusely. Not her style. What was up with her? “Thank you, Captain. You won’t regret this decision.”
He didn’t break away from her grasp right away. “Don’t get excited yet. I have conditions.”
She backed up a step. “Conditions?” she asked. I swear I heard just a tad bit of coyness in that one word.
“You’ll be paid at half the rate your mother is receiving, total hours not to exceed fifty. Lieutenant Morgan will determine when you are needed. You won’t provide any other services other than what your mother and Morgan request.” He studied her. “Can you accept those conditions?”
Valerie replied immediately. “Yes. And I’ll give you the same trial.”
His lips curled upward again. “Fair enough.” Now it was his turn to shake her hand. “Welcome aboard. I look forward to hearing good things about this special situation.” He smiled at her one more time, nodded to us and left the same way he’d come in.
I was dumbfounded. I would’ve bet money there was no way he’d approve her idea. “Congratulations, kiddo,” I said, hugging my daughter and wondering how this new partnership would turn out.
Herc hovered like a mother hen. “Welcome to the team, kid.”
“Thanks, guys. How soon do we get started?”
Herc glanced at me before addressing Val. “Let’s start fresh in the morning. That’ll give you time to update Ryder and turn things over to him temporarily.”
“Come to my place at eight, Herc. The three of us will reconnoiter then,” I said.
“Great. I’m off to tell Ryder my plans. See you both tomorrow morning.” She actually floated out of the room.
Once she was gone, Herc shot me a quizzical look. “Did that really happen? Watkins has always been a stickler for holding the line. What got into him today?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied. “Now it’s up to us to figure out how to work with this plan.”