Blind Retribution Page 2

  “Yes, it does; unless he used the car earlier,” he said. “Although I can’t imagine anyone leaving that expensive car parked in the driveway and not inside the garage.”

  “Okay. That’s a good place to start. I’ll begin questioning my witnesses while you guys do your thing. Let me know when you’re done.” She glanced at the victim’s husband and the employee, now talking with Howie. She stopped in her tracks and turned back to Zeke again. “Did the victim know what was happening? Was she conscious when the car was on fire?” Max asked, not really wanting the answer.

  “I hope not. After the coroner takes a look at her lungs—or what’s left of them—we’ll know for sure.”

  “Poor thing. She never had a chance.” Max sighed. “Okay, thanks.” She turned and headed toward the trio.

  “This is my partner, Detective Max Turner,” Howie said when she approached.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, Dr. Barrett.”

  “Thank you,” Barrett said before blowing his nose on a handkerchief he’d removed from his robe pocket.

  “This is Maddie Thomas.” Howie gestured with his hand. “She works for the Barretts and lives in the carriage house behind the main residence with her two sons.”

  The doctor’s gasp drew their attention to the attendants who were placing what was left of Helen Barrett’s charred body into a black body bag.

  Max latched on to the doctor’s arm and guided him away from the scene and closer to her vehicle parked at the end of the circular driveway. Barrett and his maid were already upset, and watching the investigators search the scene for body parts and debris would only upset them more. Although this explosion was on a much smaller scale than what she’d witnessed at the scene on 9/11 and in Afghanistan, the destruction scattered all over the fieldstones and lawn, and that unforgettable smell of explosives and human skin, caused Max to shudder. She had no desire to relive those moments of her past—in fact, she wished she could forget them entirely.

  Eyeing a group of nosy, gawking neighbors slowly congregating behind the tape, Max suggested to the doctor that they talk in her car. She called out to Howie to tell him where she’d be as he led the maid to the white wrought-iron lawn furniture under a tree a short distance from the unmarked car.

  Maddie’s thick Jamaican accent rang out. “Poor Miss Helen is gone and now,” she said to Howie, “I may not have a job.” She blew out a breath. “I know I should not think about this now, but I have a family that depends on my salary . . . I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  Hearing the conversation, Barrett responded. “You’ll always have a job with me, Maddie.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Jeffrey.” Relief spread across her face as she lowered herself onto one of the filigreed white chairs. “You know, Miss Helen . . . she was always so good to me. And now—” She burst into tears. “I never see her again.” Howie tried to console her by patting her back from the neighboring chair, but that didn’t seem to work. He gave her his unopened bottle of water.

  “I know you’re upset, Ms. Thomas. I would be too, but I need to ask you a few questions to help with our investigation.” She took the water, unscrewed the cap, and drank.

  Max opened the back door of their police vehicle for Dr. Barrett. “It’s quieter in here,” she said. Barrett tightened the tie on his robe and held the two front pieces together before sliding across the seat.

  Max stopped to glance in the direction of the wreckage in the distance before entering the car. From her experience, there was no doubt this bomb scene screamed military, and she wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the technicians found proof of that on the fragments they recovered. Military bombs had color coding, serial numbers, and other markings identifying where the bomb was built and the weight of the explosive or whether there was a blasting agent included. Once the squad reconstructed the bombs, she would know. Max opened her door, seating herself next to Dr. Barrett. With pen in hand she began her questioning.

  “What is that God-awful smell?” Barrett asked, wrinkling his nose and rolling down the window.

  “Yeah, I know. We share cars with the other detectives, so there isn’t much I can do about it. Unfortunately, at times our vehicles are used for transporting some unsavory characters.” She made a face. “I think you get the picture.”

  “I don’t know if I can stay in here,” he whined. “It stinks.”

  “Okay,” she said opening the door. “We can go outside to talk about what happened, if you’d rather.” She exited the car and he followed suit.

  “Detective, I’d really rather not talk at all right now.”

  “I understand that, Dr. Barrett, and I’m sorry, but it’s important that we do,” she insisted and launched right into questioning before he could resist again. “You work at Mount Sinai, is that correct?” He nodded. “Did you go out earlier this morning with your car?”

  “No, Helen and I slept in this morning. We had a very late night after the party.”

  “Oh, you had a party? What was the occasion?”

  “Helen and I renewed our vows,” he said proudly as though temporarily forgetting he’d just lost his wife.

  “That’s a beautiful thing, and then to have something like this happen . . . I’m truly sorry. So you had a lot of people in your house, then?”

  “About a hundred fifty or so.”

  “That’s a really big party. Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you or your wife?”

  “I doubt it was anyone who attended the party. At least, I don’t think so.” His hands washed over his face.

  “What about those who you didn’t invite to the party? Do you think there were some who were resentful?”

  “You mean, resentful enough to want us dead?”

  Max’s shoulder rose. “Have you had any squabbles with anyone?”

  “The usual, I suppose.”

  “Will you clarify the usual?” she asked.

  “Creative differences between surgeons. Sometimes it’s something as silly as golf scores, but certainly nothing that would warrant this,” he said, nodding in the direction of the explosion.

  “I’d like the names of those individuals, please.”

  “I think it’s silly.”

  “It may seem that way to you, but it would be appreciated.”

  Barrett’s hands rose in defeat.

  “Trust me, Dr. Barrett, it’s usually the one you least expect.” She tucked a lock of hair back away from her face and behind her ear. “Do you think any of your friends are jealous of your lifestyle or the success you’ve achieved within the cardiology community?” Max looked pointedly at Barrett.

  “I’m sure most of them are jealous, but that doesn’t mean they’d kill either one of us because of it.”

  In light of his recent loss, Max tried not to show a reaction to his pompous comment. “Listen, I’m going to need a copy of that guest list too. Can you get that for me?”

  “You’ll have to get that from the party planner.” He shook his head as if trying to clear his mind. “I’m sorry. I’ll have Maddie take care of it for you.” His shoulders slouched. “I can’t think straight.”

  “I understand.” Max could see his mouth was dry and handed him a bottle of water. “Here, this might help that cotton mouth.”

  He accepted the bottle, twisted the cap off, and tipped his head back, taking a long swig. “Thank you.”

  “Here’s the thing that I’m having a hard time trying to figure out, Dr. Barrett.” Max gestured in the direction of the crime scene. “Why was the Lamborghini in the driveway? Given that you had one hundred and fifty guests here last evening, you would have needed the driveway clear, or did you use a valet service for the convenience of your guests?”

  “Yes, we hired a valet service. I have no idea where they parked the cars, but they weren’t in my driveway.”

  “All right. So getting back to the Lamborghini, I’m assuming the sports car was yours and your wife drove the Mercedes in the garage. Is that correct?”
<
br />   “Yes.”

  “Okay, so can you explain why your car wasn’t in the garage?” She popped a piece of gum into her mouth after offering him one. He seemed distracted and never responded.

  Max held her finger up to her puckered lips in thought. “Was it your wife who left your car in the driveway? Can you think of any reason why she would have used your car last night when hers was readily available?” She frowned.

  “No, I kept Helen pretty busy,” he said with a slight grin. “After all, it was the start of our honeymoon. But what difference does it make now? She’s gone, my car’s gone, and my future is looking pretty grim without her.” Max thought it was odd he even mentioned the fact that his car was gone.

  “Dr. Barrett, why did you mention that your car was gone in the same sentence as your wife? It seems like an odd thing to say after what just happened.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Sorry. I guess I’m still in a state of shock.”

  “So who left the car in the driveway overnight?”

  He shifted from one foot to the other, obviously trying to control his emotions. “I left the car in the driveway, but honestly, I can’t seem to remember why at the moment.”

  “Please try to focus, Dr. Barrett. These points are crucial. With a two-hundred-thousand-dollar price tag for a Lamborghini, I’m just having trouble trying to figure out why it would be left outside, unattended. It’s like an invitation for trouble. Do you think leaving it outside was a conscious decision?”

  “Right,” he fired back, “like I left my car in the driveway all night just hoping someone would come along and plant a bomb.” He lowered his head into his hands.

  “Relax, Dr. Barrett, I wasn’t pointing fingers. I’m just trying to find the truth so I can solve this case and find out who killed your wife. Can you help me understand what happened here from yesterday morning to where we are right now, because I’m confused.”

  “I went to work at the regular time,” he said. “I performed a heart transplant mid-morning, then made rounds and waited to talk to the cardiologist who was going to cover for me while Helen and I were away. I needed to bring him up to date.”

  “Okay. And what is this cardiologist’s name?”

  “Warren Decker.” Max jotted the name down in her notebook. “He was also running late. When I noticed the time, I knew Helen was going to be upset if I didn’t make it back before the guests arrived, so I drove home like a maniac. I pulled in the driveway and I guess I left the car without even thinking about it. Unfortunately, some of the guests had already arrived.”

  “I’ll bet your wife was really ticked off that you were late, huh?” Max said, nodding encouragement.

  “No, not too much.” He smiled. “She was so excited about having another magnificent wedding, it actually didn’t seem to faze her.”

  “I don’t suppose you remember who was here at that time, do you?”

  “Let’s see.” He shut his eyes. “My parents, her hairstylist, her clothing designer . . . and I think the florist was just leaving.”

  Max noted the information on her pad. “Did your wife drive your car often?”

  “No.” He smiled slightly. “This was the very first time.”

  “Really? Didn’t she want to drive it?”

  “I’m sure she did, but . . . well, the truth is, I didn’t like or want anyone messing with my toy.”

  Max tilted her head, her lips puckered again. “Hmm, how interesting. I’ll bet that caused a lot of friction.”

  “It did.”

  “Yet today, you decided it was okay? What made today different?”

  “Let’s just say I was trying to remedy the error of my ways. And now, oh God.” He lowered his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.” Dr. Barrett looked toward the house. “Please excuse me,” he said, and walked in the direction of the mansion. “I need my cell phone to call family and let them know.”

  “Whoa!” Max said, pulling him back. “I’m afraid not. It’s a crime scene.”

  “But the bomb blew up outside.”

  “I understand that, but we need to be sure there are no bombs inside the residence. And the squad won’t know that until they do a thorough search of the entire property. Okay?”

  Barrett sighed. “I didn’t think about that,” he said, and then jerked back when a sudden flash blinded him. Surprised, Max whipped around and came face-to-face with a cameraman and a reporter who’d managed to sneak into the taped-off area.

  Before Max could move, the reporter shoved a microphone into the doctor’s face. “Did you plant those bombs, Dr. Barrett? Did you kill your wife?”

  “Get out of here,” Max yelled. The reporter persisted while the cameraman began filming. “If you don’t get the hell out of here,” Max warned, “I’m going to arrest you for trespassing. You know better than that.”

  Noticing the conflict, Howie rushed over and ripped the camera from the cameraman’s hands, opened the back, and pulled out the memory card.

  “Hey, you can’t do that,” the angry cameraman shouted.

  “Well, he just did,” Max said. “Now, get your ass out of here.”

  “I’ll have my boss call the mayor,” he threatened.

  “You do that,” Max said and clicked onto a call when she heard her cell ring. “Turner.” She nodded. “Perfect timing. The media is harassing the doctor out here on the driveway. Okay. Thanks.” She turned to Barrett. “The house has been released. We can go inside.”

  The doctor blew air from his puffed-out cheeks. “Thank God.”

  “Howie,” Max called out to him, “inside.” She pointed toward the residence. “They’re done.”

  Maddie headed toward the front door. “I have to make breakfast for Dr. Jeffrey,” she said. “He hasn’t had anything to eat since last night.”

  “That’s okay, Maddie,” Barrett said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t think I can eat anything anyway.” He looked back down the driveway at the reporters.

  “Where shall we continue our questioning?” Max asked him.

  “We have a den and a sitting room. Either one is fine,” he said, distractedly.

  “Hey, do you have surveillance cameras?” she inquired.

  “Of course. I never even gave that a thought.”

  “I want to see the footage. Does it record on a disk that I can take with me?”

  It was obvious Barrett was still rattled by the reporter’s intrusion. He rubbed his forehead. “I can’t seem to remember if it does.” He held his eyes tightly shut as though trying to cut the world out. Releasing a deep sigh, he opened them. “It does, and yes, you can take whatever you need.”

  Max noticed Howie signaling her just before she reached the threshold of the front door. “I need to see you for a minute,” he whispered. She excused herself and followed him off the front steps.

  “What’s up?”

  “The maid just told me the victim and the doctor had a rocky marriage, and that his wife threatened to leave him several weeks ago.”

  Max released a quick disgusted snort. “How interesting.” She kept nodding her head. “This crap makes me crazy.” Sucking in her bottom lip, Max wondered if that was the reason the doctor didn’t seem as heavyhearted as she’d expected. Or maybe it had more to do with how surgeons were trained to keep emotion out of their work. Together, she and Howie walked inside the home and back to their respective witnesses.

  Maddie automatically walked through the kitchen toward what appeared to be the den, Howie following her.

  “I guess we’ll be sitting in the sunroom, unless you’re allergic to plants,” the doctor said to Max.

  “No, I’m not.” Max followed close behind, through the kitchen and out into a glass-enclosed room lined with planters holding beautiful flowers in varying shades of red, orange, and white. Large indoor potted trees reflected the serenity of the wooded area visible through the windows.

  “Helen and I always loved this room,” he said. “It aff
orded us the privacy we sought after a busy day.”

  The earthy smell of freshly watered plants spiraled up Max’s nose and reminded her of a pleasant time during her teenage years when she’d spent time working in a florist’s greenhouse.

  A cluster of four plush lemon-yellow swivel chairs surrounded a large glass coffee table that used a planter as its base. Max admired the unique design and then noticed that Barrett had automatically sat in one of the chairs without inviting her to do the same.

  “May I sit?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”

  “How long were you and Mrs. Barrett married?”

  “Fifteen years.”

  “And how was the marriage?”

  “Ah,” he said, shaking his head. “I guess Maddie mentioned our marital issues.” He stopped and stared at Max.

  “Does that mean you wouldn’t have mentioned them?” Max asked.

  “No, of course not. I was getting to it.” He shrugged. “We had difficult times. I’m not going to deny it. That’s why it was my idea to renew our vows and rekindle the love we had when we were first married.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but given that your wife was planning to leave you a few weeks ago . . .” Max paused. “You see where I’m going with this, Dr. Barrett? The renewal of vows with a hundred fifty friends witnessing the event”—Max screwed her face up—“you suddenly allowing her to drive your car—”

  “Wait a minute.” He cut her off, his voice growing louder. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “Mr. Barrett, I’m just doing my job.”

  “It’s Dr. Barrett,” he said sharply.

  “Forgive me, Dr. Barrett. Now that I know about the marriage troubles, I have to say you did have motive and opportunity.”

  “But you’re taking my recent overtures toward my wife out of context.” He paused for a few minutes, appearing to collect himself before continuing. “I know you detectives believe the spouse is the obvious suspect, so let me just squelch that idea right now. Let’s start with the bombs. I have no doubt those bombs were meant for me, and I also have no doubt who could have planted them.”

  “I’m listening.”