CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

 

The pawnshop was on east Ninety-Second Street, along with several others in an area that was also lined with massage parlors, sleazy bars, and nude dance clubs. A bell clanged as Stone walked in with Chang. They had received a tip from an informant that Manuel Gonzalez had hocked the rings there.

“How can I help you?” The portly man at the counter flashed his yellow teeth at them.

Stone whipped out his I.D. “Detective Palmer of the Sheriff’s Department. And your name?”

“Stanley Zubrinski.” He looked uncomfortable. “Look, if this is about the dame upstairs—”

“It isn’t.” Stone glanced at Chang who suppressed a grin, before peering at the man. “We need to ask you some questions about a wedding and engagement ring that were pawned here recently.”

Zubrinski lifted a bushy brow. “What do you wanna know?”

“We’d like to see them, for starters.”

“No problem, if I’ve still got ‘em. When were they brought in?”

Stone took an educated guess, describing the rings.

Zubrinski nodded in remembrance. “Yeah, I think I still have them. Let me check.”

Stone and Chang watched him fiddle around beneath a glass cabinet before coming up with two rings and setting them on the counter.

“Are these the ones you’re looking for?” Zubrinski rubbed his crooked nose. “Not much of a market for wedding bands these days. Almost cheaper to buy new.”

Stone removed a picture of the rings supplied by Chuck Murray and compared them with the engagement and wedding rings before him.

“What do you think?” he asked Chang.

The detective studied the rings. “I’d say we have ourselves a match.”

Stone concurred. He turned back to the pawnshop owner. “Where’s the paperwork for these items?”

Zubrinski supplied a receipt that gave the name Louis Mendes and an address that did not match that of Claudia Sosa.

“What can you tell us about the person who brought these in?” Stone asked. He was betting that it was Manuel Gonzalez, but not ruling out that Chuck Murray could have peddled them himself to get rid of had they been in his possession all along after he killed his wife.

“Not much.” Zubrinski scratched his forehead. “I make it a habit not to focus too much on my customers. Safer that way.”

Stone glared. “We’re searching for a killer here. We could also yank your license should we find that you knowingly took in any hot property. Now do us both a favor and refresh your memory...”

Zubrinski got the message. He described Manuel Gonzalez to a tee. Looking at a mug shot of the suspect bolstered this.

“The man told me they belonged to his grandmother.” Zubrinski laughed sardonically. “I knew he was full of it. But in my business you don’t ask too many questions. Know what I mean?”

Chang gave him an unforgiving look. “Well, maybe in the future you should, man. Or risk seeing us in here again.”

“I’ll remember that,” he snorted.

“In the meantime, we’re confiscating these as police evidence in a criminal investigation,” Stone said, using a handkerchief to put the rings in a plastic bag to preserve any prints as evidence of a crime.

Zubrinski’s jowly face sagged. “Hey, I paid three hundred bucks for those!”

“You’re breaking my heart,” Stone said emotionlessly. “If by chance we’ve got the wrong rings, you’ll get them back. But don’t hold your breath.”

They left the shop, equipped with more evidence to point the finger at Manuel Gonzalez as Adrienne Murray’s killer, to go along with the murder of Claudia Sosa and in all likelihood Penelope Grijalva. Stone had learned that Gonzalez was fired from his last job at the janitorial business in Adrienne’s building because of alleged drug use and a high rate of absenteeism.

But apparently that didn’t stop him from frequent visits to see his girlfriend.

And to notice Adrienne Murray. Or vice versa.

* * *

Stone thought it was time to pay Chuck Murray another visit. When he arrived at the house, he found the widower in the company of his attorney, Jonathan Hutchinson. Sixty-something and pot bellied, Hutchinson sported a white goatee and had receding salt and pepper hair.

Stone wasted no time getting to the point. He removed the plastic bag containing the rings from his pocket, holding it up while gazing at Adrienne’s husband. “Are these your late wife’s rings?”

Chuck peered at them, as if searching for something he never thought he would find. “Yes, it’s them.”

“You’re sure?”

Chuck nodded glumly. “Yeah. We bought them together,” he said sadly. “I placed them on her finger—”

“Where did you find the rings?” Hutchinson intervened as though to protect his client.

“A pawnshop on Ninety-Second Street,” Stone said. “I think they were pawned there by the person who killed Adrienne.”

“So you know who killed her?” the attorney asked with interest.

Without answering, Stone took out the mug shot of the suspect. He put it in Chuck’s face. “Have you ever seen this man before?”

“Don’t answer that!” spat Hutchinson. He looked at the picture, as if to thoroughly scrutinize it for any possible self-incrimination for his client. “Maybe you should tell us who the hell he is.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Chuck spoke over his lawyer.

Stone shoved the picture in his face again. “Take another look.”

Chuck stared at the mug shot, then met Stone’s hard eyes and shook his head. “I still don’t know who he is,” he insisted.

Stone put the mug shot away while keeping some thoughts to himself. “Name’s Manuel Gonzalez. He worked in the same building as your wife. Indeed, Gonzalez’s girlfriend, Claudia Sosa was Adrienne’s boss.”

Chuck’s eyes widened. “Claudia... I met her there in the office... Are you saying this Manuel Gonzalez killed Adrienne and took the rings?”

“It’s beginning to look like it.” Stone watched his reaction.

Chuck furrowed his brow. “So why haven’t you arrested him...or have you?”

“Didn’t I hear on the news that this Manuel Gonzalez is being sought for the murder of his girlfriend?” Hutchinson asked Stone uneasily.

Stone saw no reason to deny it. “We’re looking for him now. I was hoping maybe you could help me out there, Chuck, figuring since you and Gonzalez had been frequent visitors to your wife’s place of employment, you might have run into one another from time to time.”

“Even if that were true, that doesn’t make them bosom buddies,” Hutchinson declared. “If you’re here to accuse my client of somehow conspiring in his wife’s murder, then do so formally and we will formally answer to the charges. If not, then I’d say this meeting is over, Detective—!”

Stone expected as much, but looked to his client for verification. “Is it your wish that I leave now? This isn’t going to go away, Chuck. Not till your wife’s murder is solved. If you have nothing to hide, I suggest you convince me.”

Chuck met his eyes thoughtfully. “I would never have hurt Adrienne,” he claimed. “She was my life. If this Gonzalez bastard killed her, he did it on his own. If you want to believe otherwise, to hell with you!”

“Keep your mouth shut!” Hutchinson glared at his client before turning to Stone. “From now on, Detective, when you have something to say to my client, it’ll either be in my office or in police custody.”

“Your call, Counselor,” Stone stated. “And for the record, Chuck, he’s right: anything you say that doesn’t hold up can and will be used against you. So maybe it is best not to say anything. I’ll see myself out.”

Stone left the house thinking that if nothing else, he had shaken up Chuck Murray as either an innocent man being unjustly targeted or someone who played a role in his wife’s death. Either way, Stone figured it was worth it to go out on a limb as the noose tightened around Manuel Gonzalez’s neck, though still on the run as a triple murderer. But had he acted alone where it concerned Adrienne Murray?

I don’t believe for one minute that Chuck didn’t recognize Gonzalez, the detective mused. On the contrary, something told Stone that the man knew exactly who Gonzalez was well before looking at his picture. The question was just how well did the two know each other?

And had it cost Adrienne her life?