Monday Afternoon
The same security guard from last time was behind the desk as Roberts and Stone entered Sutton’s apartment building. The guard recognized them.
“Are you here to see to see Mr. Sutton again?”
“Yes,” Stone replied, “but could you let us see the rear exit first? I understand it’s a fire exit.”
“Yes. It’s also alarmed, so it’s not used as an exit.” He stood and placed a well-used paper sign on his desk. It read, ‘Back in five minutes.’ “I’ll show you the way.”
They followed the guard past twin steel doors, down a hallway with concrete walls, through another steel door that opened to a storage area. At one side wall was a door labeled ‘Stairs’ and at the far end was one more door. Yellow letters warned the ‘Alarm will sound if Opened’. Near the door, a glass cabinet showed green lights.
The guard pointed. “That’s the fire alarm control box.”
“Does the door alarm work, or are those just words to prevent someone from opening it?”
“The alarm works.” The guard opened the cabinet door and toggled a switch. “No point in having the alarm bells go off. They’re loud.” He pushed open the exit door and one of the green lights turned to a blinking red. “It works.”
Stone looked at the red light. “Okay, and the alarm is loud enough for you to hear at the front?”
“Without a doubt. I also get a warning light on a console.”
Stone stepped outside, looking at the back lane. He saw the usual dumpsters and walked to the end of the asphalt lane, seeing a pair of taxis parked along the curb. He returned to the building. “There must be a bar close by, judging by the cabs waiting nearby.”
The guard confirmed his speculation. “Yup, a couple of restaurants and bars. A good enough reason to make sure this door stays closed.”
“Okay, thanks. We’ll just take a look around.”
“Sure.” The guard toggled the switch again and used a key to reset the alarms. The green lights returned.
After the guard left, Stone pointed at the top of the exit door. “See those two white blocks? Reed switches. The magnet in the block attached to the door prevents the alarm from going off.”
“Rather simple. Door opens and the reed switch is activated.”
Stone looked around and found an empty five-gallon pail. He carried it over to the door, turning it up-side-down and stood on it. He took out his cellphone and turned on the light, peering at the white block. “These blocks have been touched recently. The dust on them have been wiped off.”
“Someone was tampering with them.”
“Yeah, likely taping a magnet to the reed switch, so when the door is open the alarm wouldn’t go off.” He stepped off the bucket. “Want to look?”
“I’ll take your word for it. Heels on a plastic surface are not a good combination.”
“Let’s call it in and get fingerprints off the exit door and the one to the stairs.”
“By ‘Let’s call it in’ you mean me.”
Stone shrugged. “You’re better on the phone than me.”
“BS.” She used her phone to place the call.
Stone returned the plastic pail to where he found it. He waited until Roberts finished with her call. “Shall we have a visit with Michael Sutton?”
“Sure. The fingerprint experts will be here soon. They’ll also swab for DNA samples.”
“Let’s use the elevator. The stairs are too much of a challenge unless one needs to avoid being seen.”
“You think Michael Sutton used the stairs up and down? Thirty-four stories? He must be in good shape for that.”
Stone pushed the button to call for the elevator. “He may have used the elevator to travel from his floor to the second. The one thing he would want to avoid is getting off on the main floor where he would be seen by the guard or video equipment.”
“So you think he is the murderer?”
“I’m not sure yet if he is the murderer. He doesn’t strike me as the killing type. But I’m sure he’s lying to us when he said he was in his condo all Friday night.”
They entered the elevator and Roberts looked at him. “Usually, you have some theory in your head about a murder, something about the universe being connected, or some weird quantum physics approach to solving the murder. So far, you have offered nothing but facts. What gives?”
“I was thinking of chemistry. There’s a natural bonding of elements that are very stable. For example, a water molecule. Two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen. H-two-O. It’s a happy little triangle of atoms. But let’s say another atom comes along, let’s say sulphur, and takes the hydrogen away. Then we two unhappy oxygen atoms and an unstable hydrogen-sulphur bond.”
“You mean Michael, Brooke and Paige were a happy triangle and then Ryan comes along and steals Brooke away.”
“Exactly. From what I’ve gathered is Brooke doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. She’s willing to put up with the sleezy behaviour of her husband because she doesn’t like the thought of divorce. Brooke’s not happy, but won’t do anything to change it. She keeps contact with Paige and Michael. That fuels their desire to eliminate Ryan and go back to their happy triangle.”
“Brooke said if Michael had anything to do with Ryan’s murder, then she wouldn’t have anything to do with him afterward.”
“Yeah, but look at it from Michael’s viewpoint. He knew Brooke was unlikely to get a divorce, no matter how bad it became in their marriage. He’s still in love with her. So if he murders Ryan and doesn’t get caught, the perfect murder, then Brooke will be free to join him and Paige again. If he gets caught, then at least Brooke will be free of Ryan and be happy again. A sacrifice, but a win for his love. And there’s always a chance Brooke will forgive him later.”
“Interesting theory. What about Paige? Does the same apply to her?”
“It does, but she was with Brooke all evening. That would mean both had to be involved in the murder.” The elevator doors opened. “Paige is a martial arts expert. She could attack and kill Ryan in a minute. Maybe they weren’t together every minute that evening.”
“Possible. Let’s see if Michael is our man.”
Sutton opened the door, allowing the detectives to enter.
“What can I do for you this time, detectives?”
“Just a few more questions,” Stone replied.
Sutton retreated into the condo and went to a chair where a coffee cup sat on a neighbouring table.
Stone remained standing after Sutton sat in an armchair. Sutton joined his hands together with his arms resting on his lap.
“Tell me, did you read that in a book on how to look calm while being interviewed by the police? Because I have to tell you, it looks a little too calm,” Stone asked as he faced him.
Michael straightened up and unclasped his hands. “It’s a force of habit. I deal with a lot of high-end businessmen, and one has to look calm, sincere and in control while dealing with them.”
“Okay, fair enough. Can you tell me where the knife is that you bought from Canadian Tire is? You know, the one from the hunting section of the store?”
His jaw dropped.
“What? Surprised I figured that out? Where is it? In a dumpster?” He held up a pair of handcuffs. “Anything to say before we arrest you on murder charges?”
“I didn’t kill Ryan.”
“I guess I wasn’t really expecting a confession.”
“You don’t have any proof I did. None, because I didn’t kill him.”
“Right. But I bet I can prove you bought a knife from Canadian Tire for the sole reason to murder Ryan Morgan. Stand please. Hands behind your back.”
“I’ll call for a car to take him in for booking.” Roberts used her phone to place the call, looking at the anxious face of Sutton.
“Come on, your ride will be waiting downstairs.”
“Call my lawyer, Levi Hurley. This is a mistake.”
“Right. Pardon us if we don’t take your word for it.”
They took the elevator to the main floor, where two uniformed officers took Sutton away.
Roberts asked Stone, “What was with a knife being bought at Canadian Tire? I saw his reaction. It looks like you nailed it.”
“Last time we were at his condo, I saw Canadian Tire money. They give that stuff when you pay cash or used a debit card. He already said he could get everything he needed downtown within walking distance. I wondered what he bought at Canadian Tire that he couldn’t buy at the stores close to him. One thing is camping and hunting supplies. Canadian Tire has that, including hunting knives. Now we just need to find that knife.”
“I hate dumpster diving.”
“So do I. Let’s ask for some blue shirts to investigate the area of Morgan’s building, checking at least a block in all directions for the knife.”
“What do we do? Go and question Sutton?”
“Let’s join the search for the knife. Hopefully, it will be more supervisory than climbing into the bin.”
“I’m wearing heels and a skirt. It won’t be me going into the garbage bin.”
“I’m wearing a suit.”
“Tough luck.”
* * *
Stone stood with Roberts as two officers removed green bags from a mustard-coloured bin. It was the fourth garbage bin they had investigated. Suddenly, an officer stood inside the bin, holding up a knife in a gloved hand.
“Great.” Stone took the knife from him, sealing it in a plastic bag. He noticed the blade was clean, looking brand new. “Now, could you look for a pair of gloves tossed inside there as well?”
The officer said nothing. He gave Stone a long stare and bent to examine the bin again.
A few minutes later, the officer raised his arm, clutching another knife, this one smaller than the first. The blade was covered with what looked like dried blood.
Stone muttered sarcastically, “Great, two knives. Does that mean we’re looking for two killers?” Stone retrieved the second knife. “Let’s have a conversation with Michael Sutton. One of these knives is likely one of his, possibly both.”
* * *
Sutton was sitting in the interview room when Roberts and Stone entered. They sat facing him from across the table.
“I’m not saying anything until my lawyer arrives.”
Stone shrugged. “So be it. Then I’ll talk. We found the knife you threw away in the garbage bin. Do you still want to insist you were in your apartment on the night of the murder?”
Sutton stared at Stone.
“Okay, have it your way. The longer you refuse to talk, the more time we have to build up a case as you the murderer. At a certain point, you won’t have any bargaining power against the maximum sentence.”
Roberts instructed the officer standing by the door to place him in a holding cell. “Call us when his lawyer shows up.” She looked at Stone. “Do we just wait?”
“No. We’re going to the closest Canadian Tire store.”
* * *
Stone and Roberts entered the brightly lit store, requesting to see the store manager when they stopped at the customer relations desk.
A few minutes later, a man in a sports jacket arrived. The slim, middle-aged man didn’t appear to be surprised at their appearance. “How can I help you? Shop lifting problem?”
“No, this is a bit more serious,” Stone explained. “We want to confirm the identity of someone who purchased a knife here.” Stone opened his phone and showed the images of the two knives.
“I’ll need to get our sporting goods manager to confirm this, but I believe we sell the larger knife. The smaller one, that’s covered with blood, is not one I recognize as being available here.” He turned to the clerk. “Ask Kelly Richard to meet me at where we keep hunting knives.”
They followed to the manager to the sporting good section, passing tents, coolers, kayaks and assorted camping gear. They arrived at a vertical stand with sliding, locked glass doors. The peg board showed various knives, ranging in size, quality and price.
A blonde woman approached them. “Hi, I’m Kelly Richard. Do you need information on these knives?”
Stone showed her his identification and the photos of the two knives.
“We sell the larger knife. The other knife, I doubt it is used for hunting. The blade is too small.”
“Do you sell a lot of knives?”
“It varies according to the season.” She did a mental calculation. “This month we sold around forty knives.”
“You would have to unlock the cabinet for each sale. Do you think you’d recognize a photo of a customer who bought one of these?”
“Maybe. If they look like an adult, I rarely pay much attention to them.”
Stone showed her a photo of Sutton on his cell phone. “Do you recognize him?”
“Hmm. Yes, I think so. Good-looking guy. He was well-dressed. I can’t be certain, but I think he was here.”
“To buy a knife?”
“Likely. There aren’t many other reasons I would have to deal with him, besides guns. Guns require more than just money to buy. You also need a permit.”
They thanked her for her help, getting her contact information.
Stone and Roberts left the store.
Roberts commented, “Too bad she couldn’t be more positive in her ID of Sutton. I didn’t know hunting knives were so popular.”
“There’re a lot of hunters out there.”
“Obviously. Are we going back to interview Sutton, assuming his lawyer has arrived?”
“Yep. Maybe we can use the manager’s statement to pressure Sutton.”
* * *
They returned to the police headquarters, finding Sutton and his lawyer waiting for them in the interview room.
Levi Hurley spoke. “We were curious how long you would keep us waiting.” The lawyer slowly sat, opening a notebook as he did so.
Stone sat on a chair opposite on the table from Sutton. “Your client didn’t want to speak to us earlier, so I didn’t feel compelled to return at his convenience.”
“My client maintains his innocence. I don’t see where you have any evidence that justifies holding him.”
Stone looked at Sutton. “We believe we can prove Mr. Sutton lied to us when he claimed to be in his apartment during the evening Ryan Morgan was murdered. He left his apartment by using the rear exit of the building and used a taxi, or another form of transportation, to arrive at the office of Ryan Morgan. There, he murdered our victim and returned to his apartment. He left a knife in a garbage bin. That knife was purchased at a Canadian Tire store.
“We believe we have sufficient proof that is the chain of events, and we are prepared to charge Mr. Sutton with murder.”
Hurley tapped his finger on his notebook, studying his notes. He looked up at Stone. “Do you have any witnesses to the alleged movement of Mr. Sutton?”
“We have a possible identification at a Canadian Tire store where he purchased the knife. We will interview taxi drivers and Uber drivers later. One or more drivers will identify Mr. Sutton.”
“But, so far, you do not have an identification. Your witness at Canadian Tire is not what I would accept as firm proof he purchased a knife there. Frankly, you don’t have any proof. Just conjecture. Any witnesses you may produce of having seen Mr. Sutton on the night of question will only be able to give a vague description of a male. You know, I can tear apart any testimony your witnesses may have.”
Stone looked at Robert, who gave him a frown. “If your client continues to insist that he was in his apartment that night, it means he was lying. We will prove he left his apartment that night.”
“Perhaps, but not yet. I believe you have insufficient grounds to hold my client.”
Stone sighed. “Advise your client not to make any travel plans.” Stone stood.
Sutton and Hurley stood as well.
“Wait.” Roberts looked at Sutton. “You can claim your innocence, but we know you haven’t been truthful with us. So right now, you can go. I will tell you what we will do as soon as you return to your apartment. One is we will look for more clues about what you did that night. The other thing we have to do is to talk to Brooke Morgan and inform her we have a suspect in her husband’s murder but cannot make an arrest yet.” She paused. “I wonder how she’ll react when she learns the suspect is you.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? You lied to us and we’re going where the clues lead us. She deserves to know her friend is a murder suspect.”
“Can I have a moment alone with my lawyer?”
“Sure.” Roberts left the room with Stone.
“Nice thinking there,” Stone commented.
“From what our interview with Brooke and Paige told us, Brooke would never forgive Michael if he murdered Ryan. I think he wants to make a deal with us.”
A few minutes later, Hurley signaled for them to return to the room.
“Against my advice, Mr. Sutton wants to make a statement.”
Roberts and Stone looked at Sutton. They sat, and Roberts told Sutton to speak. “Go ahead. Just make sure it’s the truth this time.”
Sutton pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and spoke. “On that Friday, I gave Ryan a call to ensure he would be in his office. I told him it was a business situation I wanted to discuss privately. I picked 5:00 p.m. because I was pretty sure he would be alone by then. His receptionist usually leaves after lunch. He didn’t hire her for her work ethic.”
“So you arrived at his office at five?” Stone asked.
“About that time.”
“With the knife?”
“Yes. Look, I wasn’t sure if I would use it. I felt I needed a weapon. If Ryan would not listen to reason, I was prepared to do what I had to.”
“Okay. What happened when you arrived at his office?”
“I opened the door to his office. The main lights were off, but the light to his office was on. I called out to him, but there wasn’t an answer. When I went into his office, I saw him, dead, in a pool of blood.”
“Why didn’t you call the police if you didn’t kill him?”
“I panicked. I wasn’t sure if the killer was still close by. I didn’t have my phone with me, although I suppose I could’ve used the land line in the office. My thought at the time was just to get the hell out of there.”
“Do you recall if the safe was open?”
“Uh, yes. The door was open. The safe was empty.”
“Did you notice anything unusual?”
“No, I just left as fast as I could.”
“The next day you pretended you didn’t know Ryan was dead.”
“Right. I’m sorry if my actions caused a problem in catching the killer.”
“Are you sure about that? Because one of your friends may be the murderer. Perhaps you were hoping that he, or she, gets away with it.”
“I hear you, but I’m telling you the truth. And I know nothing more than that.”
“Okay, you are free to go for the time being. You are still in trouble for lying to the police.”
“I understand. But you won’t tell Brooke you believe I’m the murderer, will you?”
“No, but we also won’t be telling her you’re above suspicion.”
Sutton nodded. “Again, I’m sorry for not being honest in the first place.” He stood. “If I remember anything else, I’ll contact you.”
Roberts looked at Stone after Hurley and Sutton left. “Do you believe he was telling the truth this time?”
“Well, I don’t think he killed Ryan. That knife from Canadian Tire doesn’t look like it had been used, unlike the smaller knife. As far as telling the truth, possibly he hasn’t told us everything.” Stone walked to his desk.
“I agree with you. That leaves with one less suspect if Sutton didn’t do it. Who do we check out next?” Roberts joined Stone, walking to their desks.
“He claimed he didn’t see anyone when he went to Morgan’s office. Perhaps he saw someone and isn’t saying anything to protect that person. We know he’s very close to two women, Brooke and Paige.” Stone sat at his desk, tapping a pen on his notebook.
“Let’s interview Brooke again tomorrow. I want to know if there were even a few minutes when they weren’t together Friday night.” Roberts stood by her desk. “Are you going to inform Paige Butler we’re going to question her? Remember she asked if she could be present if we talked to her again.”
“Yeah, I remember. Let’s call her when we arrive at Brooke’s home. I wonder how long it’ll take her to get there.”
“So is that it for today?” She pushed her chair against her desk.
“I thought that we could go to Normand’s on Jasper and confirm the McCarthy’s did have dinner there.”
“Okay, let’s do that. Want me to call first?”
“That would be good. Hopefully, they won’t be busy yet.”
* * *
Stone parked his car on Jasper Avenue, a short distance from the entrance to Normands’s restaurant. He checked for traffic on the busy road before opening his door, meeting Roberts on the sidewalk.
“Shall we go for dinner?” he asked lightheartedly.
“Only if you’re buying. And I get to choose the wine.”
“What is it with women that don’t trust my judgement in wine?”
“Do you know what a Chablis is?”
“No. Some sort of a grape?”
“It’s a Chardonnay from France, usually unoaked. I think you should stick to picking out beer.”
Stone held open the door for Roberts, and they entered Normand’s. A big man in a white shirt greeted them and Stone quickly identified themselves as police detectives.
“Good to meet you. I’m Normand. Follow me to my work area.”
Stone and Roberts followed Normand to the upper level of the traditional styled restaurant. Near the entrance to the kitchen, Normand went to a table with chairs. “How can I help you? Would you like a coffee?”
Stone readily agreed to the offer of coffee. “We are checking if a couple had dinner here last Friday, Joseph and Rachel McCarthy.”
“I can check.” Normand went toward the kitchen, returning with two cups of coffee. “Sit down while I look at our reservations book.” He held a black-covered book and opened it.
Stone saw his finger trace down the pencil writing to an entry.
“Here it is. I remember them now. They had a table at the front, by the window. Their reservation was for six, and it appears they arrived about that time.”
“Excellent coffee,” Stone remarked. “Anything unusual you noticed with our couple?”
“I wasn’t their waiter, but I seated them. They acted like they were on a wedding anniversary. Holding hands, giving each other a kiss. They seemed happy. The gentleman spilled his wine glass, which we refilled for him.”
“So was he nervous?” Roberts asked.
“I suppose, now that you mentioned it. I presumed it was jitters of an important date.”
Stone thanked Normand for his help and the coffee. “I’ll have to come back here for dinner soon.”
Stone left with Roberts. “Damn, it smells good in there. I was ready to have a steak dinner.”
“I’m sure you could eat a steak. But back to our case. The McCarthy’s had dinner here, but it sounds like Joseph may have been nervous about something.”
“Something like murder.”