Mary pushed her chair back from her desk and gave a snort of disgust. It was obvious she had a long way to go before she’d mastered the black beast.
Or maybe there wasn’t much information on Eric Wilson. There was virtually none about the ten-year-old robbery at Lowell’s Jewelry. She’d found one old newspaper clipping but it didn’t tell her any more than she already knew. Evidently the interrupted robbery had not been of much interest to anyone but those involved.
There was a little more about Eric Wilson, none of it interesting. He’d been with the California Bureau of Investigation for over twenty years, hadn’t risen very high in rank and seemingly had no specialty like his partner had. The biography mentioned a couple of high-profile cases he’d been involved with, along with Ian Miller, but that was all. No mention of any family or outside interests. It was absolutely no help.
Eric Wilson was one of the arresting officers at the Lowell robbery. Maybe the press had forgotten it but he hadn’t. He had continued to hound Mo Black, determined to prove him guilty of something after all these years. She hadn’t found anything about Black’s dismissal from the Bureau on the Internet, either. There had to be a connection. All of those people couldn’t just show up at the same place ten years later and there be no reason. What it might be, however, she was no nearer discovering.
Mo said you could look up anybody. Maybe so, but you couldn’t always find much. Perhaps she didn’t know where to look. People in the books she read, and in the movies she sometimes saw on TV, seemed to be able to access any kind of information they wanted. Maybe she was doing something wrong. She’d look up herself, see if she was there.
She was. It didn’t say much, just a list of a lot of committees she’d chaired. It did say retired teacher but nothing about home economics, which was just as well. It gave the town but not her private information. That also was good. Nothing about Millie. That was too bad. Who else? She looked up John Lagomasino then Karl Bennington and Luke from the library. Bare bones information about each. Some of the photos they had posted for John were clearly not him, but they did have one good one of him in the pet shop. There was more about Karl and his veterinary work but almost nothing about Luke. She sighed and glanced at the clock. Almost five. Time to start thinking about dinner. She had accomplished nothing this afternoon but guessed she’d made some progress on finding her way around the Internet. She started to close the lid but paused. Maybe she’d search for one last person. She typed in Heath Grady. Up popped a picture of Heath in his cowboy hat, boots and tight jeans, a scowl on his face. Heath seemed to scowl a lot. There was a little more about him. She began to read. Heath, or G&H Enterprises, of which he was president, owned several businesses. The pyrotechnic company, of course, and more than one gold-buying shop. Three of them, in fact. The one in Santa Louisa was the only one of its kind in the county. The other two were in Santa Maria and Santa Barbara. The licenses for all three shops were in the name of G&H Enterprises. He had a BA in accounting from the University of Long Beach. Mary would never have guessed that. Somehow, accounting didn’t seem something that would interest Heath. There was nothing else about Heath and nothing about Gabe. She logged off and went to start dinner.
The doorbell rang about eight. Masterpiece Mystery had just started and Mary had settled in, Millie beside her, to relax and enjoy. Who this could be, she had no idea, but the doorbell couldn’t be ignored, especially as Millie was already at the front door, barking her most fierce warning bark.
It was Emma. She stood in the doorway, a slightly worried smile on her face and a notebook clutched to her breast. ‘I hope it’s not too late but I have the information you wanted. I have some other information, too.’
Holding onto Millie’s collar, Mary opened the door wider and ushered her in. Millie seemed to recognize Emma as a friend as she soon quit barking and started wagging her stump of a tail. Mary let her go, making sure the door was securely closed, and motioned Emma into the living room.
She clicked the TV off and pointed toward the dining-room table. ‘That was quick. You got both lists?’
Emma nodded, took the chair Mary indicated and set the notebook on the table. ‘My uncle gets things done when he wants to. He got these sent out to me right away.’ She grinned at Mary. ‘He said if you wanted them there was a reason and it probably was a good one. His only stipulation was if you came up with anything, you needed to share it with me right away and I was to let him know immediately.’
Mary nodded and smiled but, inwardly, she seethed. If one more person told her she was to share information … why would they think she wouldn’t? Did they think she was going to go after a murderer armed with nothing but Millie?
Emma pushed the folder across the table toward Mary. ‘Here are the names and locations of all the stores and the dates of the break-ins. I also had him send us descriptions of the jewelry missing. It’s long but mostly says the same thing. Fifteen gold wedding bands, eighteen gold-link bracelets, that kind of thing. It’s only the larger, more important pieces that have any detailed description. Like the estate jewelry pieces.’
There was a peculiar look on Emma’s face and a certain tone in her voice that brought Mary’s head up to stare at her.
‘Estate pieces? The kind that would have rose-cut diamonds?’
Emma nodded. ‘One brooch had two matching rose-cut diamonds. Another piece, from another store, had a large and very beautiful sapphire. The pendant it was in was over a hundred years old.’
Mary formed a soft, ‘Oh.’ That was about all she could say as she stared at Emma. ‘So how …’
‘I don’t know. But my uncle told me one thing. Mo Black called Ian Miller a couple of months ago. They had kept in touch all these years. They weren’t close friends but evidently Ian thought Mo had gotten a raw deal, that Eric Wilson had had it in for him and used the robbery of Lowell’s store to get him. That’s what started the rift between Wilson and Miller. Anyway, Mo called Miller, told him he had reason to believe someone in our town was receiving stolen jewelry and asked if they’d had any recent large jewelry thefts. Miller wanted details but Mo was vague. Just said he thought there was something going on in a business here that smelled to high heaven and he thought Miller should take a look. According to my uncle, Miller came to him. Wanted to know if he should follow up. He believed Mo, said he’d been a good agent and if he had a lead on something it was probably worth following. My uncle agreed. They also agreed not to say anything. They really didn’t know much. Mo hadn’t said what business or what exactly he suspected. Miller came over here just before the Fourth to talk to him, to find out more. We figure he found out a lot more and ended up dead.’
Thoughts, things people had said and done, rushed at Mary, filling her head. Mo had apologized to Marlene and said he was sorry. She’d known what he was talking about. Had she also known Mo was going to call in the cops? Maybe. She’d decided to divorce Jerry. He had a history of being dishonest. Petty things – trying to cheat the insurance company, pilfering things from their … her … jewelry shop. But things hadn’t got better. Jerry had got involved with … what? Liquidating stolen jewelry? How much had Marlene known or suspected?
Emma’s voice cut through the thoughts bombarding her. ‘Everyone is in an uproar. Our auditor confirms there was a whole lot of jewelry in that bag Jerry had put aside for Heath to take to the smelter. About half of it wasn’t on the list he’d given to the police. If any of it matches the list of stolen pieces, well, it’s pretty certain Jerry was dealing in stolen jewelry. Wilson is on his way down to LA to talk to the smelter. He’s sure Mo and David committed the robberies and Jerry was turning it into cash. Or gold bars or coins. Dan’s out at Marlene’s right now, talking to her. My uncle’s been on the phone with Mo and I think he wants him to come to Sacramento. Or he might send someone down here. He sure doesn’t want Wilson talking to him. I think we need to explore the Gradys.’
Mary started. The Gradys. Could they … she didn’t see how. They traveled, that much was true. They owned the We Buy Gold shop but they had nothing to do with running it. From what she’d heard, the only thing Heath did was pick up the jewelry that went to the smelter. Did he check the books? He must have. Heath wasn’t the kind of person to trust someone else. Had Jerry set up some kind of false bookkeeping system? One good enough to fool Heath? Mary knew nothing about bookkeeping. She kept her checkbook balanced to the penny but someone else did her taxes and that was all she required. What kind of books a shop like We Buy Gold had she couldn’t imagine.
It was almost as if Emma had read her mind. ‘Heath Grady is already screaming and yelling. Dan called him in about an hour ago. He wants to go through the shop’s books, their records. Heath can’t stop him. Their business license states they have to turn over their receipts to the police if asked. Hasn’t stopped Heath from calling Jerry every name in the book. Says his reputation is on the line and if that SOB was cheating, if he had anything to do with stolen goods, he’ll dig him up and beat him to a pulp.’
She stopped and a shadow of a grin appeared. ‘He sounds like he means it. But something was going on in that shop. My uncle is sending down a whole team of accountant types to go through the records and see if they can come up with something.’
Mary nodded. ‘Sounds like Heath. He can be as explosive as one of their fireworks.’ She thought about fireworks. About the Fourth of July. About the Gradys getting ready to load their equipment into their paneled van, about the painted firework displays all over that van. ‘What does Dan think?’
‘About what? The Gradys?’
Mary nodded.
‘Nothing.’
‘Has he mentioned the white-paneled van?’
‘The one that was evidently spotted at a couple of the robberies? No. Those vans are a dime a dozen. There’s nothing to say it was the same van or that it had anything to do with either robbery.’
‘There was a white-paneled van coming out of the alley right about the time Jerry was shot. They may be all over but I don’t know anyone in town who has one, or at least an unmarked one.’
Emma stared at her for a moment. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Luke was walking by and he saw it. He remembered because he doesn’t know anyone who owns an unmarked one either and wondered whose it was.’
‘Who’s Luke?’ Puzzlement showed on Emma’s face. So did interest.
‘He’s the head librarian. He’d walked over to Mo’s to drop off his fiancée’s laptop and was going back to the library.’ She almost smiled at the look of incredulity on Emma’s face. ‘He didn’t see who was driving it and says he didn’t notice if the gold shop’s closed sign was up or not. He didn’t hear Marlene scream, didn’t know anything had happened until he heard the sirens and all the police showed up.’
Emma started to shake her head, first slowly, then a little faster. ‘I didn’t believe him, but he was right. He doesn’t need a detective on staff. How do you do it?’
‘Do what?’
Emma pushed back her chair and stood. She smiled and shook her head once more. ‘Never mind. I’ll deliver this little piece of information to Dan and then I think I’ll have a talk with Luke. Who else should I talk to?’
Mary thought. ‘Well, Glen Manning, at the bank, might be able to tell you something about Jerry’s finances.’
‘We’ll need a court order, but the accountant types will handle that. What else?’
‘Have you found out anything about why Wilson was in town several weeks ago and never mentioned it?’
‘No.’
That was a reflective no, Mary thought.
‘I told my uncle and asked if I should push the issue. He said he’d take care of it. But what I think …’ Emma paused.
Mary waited, hoping she’d go on.
She did. ‘I think he somehow found out about Mo’s phone call to Ian Miller. There may have been an email. The computer geeks are trying to break into his computer right now. It’s Miller’s personal computer, not one of ours, and it’s proving harder than they thought. I think Wilson might have managed, though. I wouldn’t put it past him to snoop through Miller’s desk and eavesdrop on his cell calls. They had adjoining desks. Finding out Ian’s passwords wouldn’t have been that hard. Wilson’s been jealous of Miller for years and would have liked nothing better than to solve the mysterious jewelry store robberies before Miller could. If he could have gotten the arrest it would have made him a happy man. He’s staring retirement in the face and his hasn’t been a notable career. Collaring whoever is doing this and finding the jewelry would have sent him out with a high profile. He’d have loved that.’
Mary’s breath caught in her throat. ‘You really believe Eric Wilson would do something like that? To his partner?’ But even as she said it, she could believe it, too.
‘It would explain what he was doing in town.’
‘Trying to find out what was going on at the We Buy Gold shop?’
‘Trying to find out what store in town Miller was investigating. It wasn’t much of a leap to connect either We Buy Gold or Lowell’s Jewelry. He was probably also looking to see if he could hang anything on Mo Black. Wilson holds a grudge and he never quite forgave Mo for not being guilty of helping to rob the Sacramento Lowell’s store.’
‘He’s not going to find anything on him this time either. If Mo Black was in league with Jerry Lowell to rob jewelry stores and liquidate what they stole, he wouldn’t have called Ian Miller and alerted him to the fact.’
Emma nodded. ‘I thought about that and so did Dan. But try to convince Wilson. We can only do our best to keep him away from Mo Black until we figure out who actually killed both Miller and Lowell.’
Mary thought about that. ‘Do you think anything he did could have contributed to Miller’s death?’
Emma shrugged. Her eyes glistened suspiciously and there was a catch in her breath. ‘I don’t know but he could have stirred the pot.’
She turned to go but Mary stopped her with one more question. ‘Emma, if Mo Black isn’t responsible for the robberies and the Gradys aren’t and Jerry Lowell isn’t, who is? And who else would want to murder either Ian Miller or Jerry Lowell?’
‘I don’t know who committed the robberies. Whoever they are, they’re clever and certainly professional. But we don’t know they’re the ones who killed Miller and Lowell.’
‘What other reason would anyone else have?’
‘Oh, I can think of a couple.’ Emma’s voice sounded tired and unhappy.
With, Mary thought as she listened, good reason.
‘Jerry wasn’t an honest man. Marlene was sick of it and worried what his continued pilfering, or worse, would do to her reputation and the reputation of her store. She knew he was into something again and this time she was worried that he was in over his head. Shooting him may have been a solution.’
‘But she was going to divorce him.’ Mary’s stomach twisted. She didn’t want to think Marlene could be capable of such a thing.
‘Divorce would have been messy. It could have exposed whatever Jerry was mixed up in.’ She stopped for a moment and her voice was even sadder when she went on: ‘Or Tommy could have discovered what his father was doing. He could have uncovered where the gems he used in that necklace really came from and why his father had a fit when he used them. He might have thought both he and his mother were better off if his father was dead.’
‘But why shoot Miller?’
‘Miller was getting too close to what Jerry was doing. You heard Mo Black. That apology could very well have been because he started this whole chain by calling Miller and alerting him that something wasn’t right.’
The knot in Mary’s stomach tightened. She couldn’t believe either of those two would … but she didn’t really know them. However … ‘Then who robbed the stores?’
‘I have no idea. And, Mary, I didn’t say either Tommy or his mother did do this. Just that we can’t rule them out. Like we can’t rule out the driver of the white-paneled van, whoever he is. We can’t even rule out Mo. Right now, we can’t rule out anyone. So …’ Her smile was more like a grimace but her shoulders straightened and she slung her bag over her shoulder with obvious purpose and resumed her usual brisk attitude. ‘I’ll go find Luke, see what he has to say and keep poking around. If your vague idea bears fruit, let me know. See you later.’
Somehow Masterpiece Mystery had lost all of its appeal. Mary had her own mystery and solving it wasn’t proving to be fun. The thought of Tommy Lowell shooting Ian Miller in the back was almost more than she could bear. Or Marlene, for that matter. She thought about it. Not only could she not bear to think about it, she couldn’t picture it. Although she’d never seen Marlene lose her temper, she might have with Jerry and hit him with something. It didn’t seem likely, but not impossible. Shoot him, though?
Although it hadn’t been proven conclusively, she was certain whoever shot Jerry had also shot Miller. The motive for either Marlene or Tommy killing Miller sounded thin to her, but shooting him in the back sounded farfetched. She couldn’t prove that either. At least, not yet. She didn’t think Mo Black or his nephew were guilty. She was certain whoever was robbing those jewelry stores killed both men, only who was robbing the stores?
She looked at the clock. Eleven. How had it gotten so late? She got up, stretched and looked around. Where was Millie? She called her name but no small black body appeared. Had she let her out and not let her back in? She walked into the kitchen, half expecting to hear scratching at the back door but all was quiet. The light over the back door showed an empty yard. Starting to feel anxious, Mary walked back through the living room, searching every corner. No Millie. Could she be asleep under her desk? A brief glance into what was now her office showed no sign of the dog. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open and turned on the light. There was Millie in the middle of her bed, curled up in a ball and snoring lightly. Mary grinned, partly in relief. It was past their bedtime and Millie had evidently got tired of waiting for her. The dog had better sense than she had. She was solving nothing by sitting in her chair, trying to solve a puzzle that was quite obviously missing some of its pieces. Maybe she could find some of them, but not tonight. She, too, was going to bed.