The Monet Murders (The Art of Murder 2) - Page 53

I’d have written the story, not come to you.

That was the simple, unadorned truth and the reason why journalists and law enforcement agents made uneasy bedfellows. Literally.

“I’m not dismissing your work, let alone trying to sweep it under the rug—and, by the way, that’s a pretty damned offensive thing to say.” Jason kept his voice even, although he was, no lie, pretty damned offended. “It does seem to me that you’ve already got your mind made up about what happened to the Havemeyer kid, and that means you’re liable to conflate the facts that support your theory and ignore those that don’t.”

Shipka glowered at him. “You don’t know me at all.”

“No, that’s right. I don’t. I met you two days ago. I think we’re on the same side—you seemed to think we’re on the same side—but I’m being honest when I say I’m not one hundred percent convinced you’re on the right track. Isn’t it far more likely the Havemeyer kid went out for a drink at one of the bars and clubs near where he lived, and either hooked up with the wrong guy or got mugged on his way home?”

“Then where’s the body?”

“Buried in someone’s basement. He could have ended up in a Dumpster and then in a landfill. People disappear in the city as easily as the country. I know it and you know it.”

“And what about Donald Kerk winding up dead in Santa Monica? Is that supposed to be a coincidence?”

“It could be a coincidence. You have to at least consider the possibility.”

“I’ll leave you to consider that possibility,” Shipka said shortly. “The Durrands’ first victim—although who’s to say he was the first?—went by the name of Marco Poveda. He was an artist who met Shepherd at the gallery where they did a lot of coke and had, by all accounts, some very freaky sex. Shepherd talked him into going back to the island for the weekend. Poveda agreed. But when the weekend was over, Shepherd wouldn’t let him leave. Poveda claimed Shepherd kept him locked up in a crypt on the family estate for another three days. He finally escaped back to the mainland where he fil

ed charges with the Cape Vincent Police. Who promptly notified the Durrands’ family lawyer.” Shipka shrugged.

None of this had anything to do with his own case, but despite the hard line he was taking with Shipka regarding real and solid evidence, Jason remained interested in this particular line of investigation. He didn’t want to pin too much on it, but he did think Shipka was onto something.

“Did the case ever come to trial?”

“No. All charges were dropped.”

Jason grimaced.

“The Durrands paid him off,” Shipka said.

“Again. Do you have any proof of that?”

“Poveda told friends that’s what happened.”

“That’s hearsay. Is Poveda still around? Can he be questioned?”

“No. He died two years ago.”

Jason sighed.

“Look, that’s the breaks.” Shipka shrugged, picked up another muffin. “Sometimes witnesses die. I can forward you my interview notes with him and the copy of the police report he originally filed. I found his story compelling. Your mileage may differ.” He downed the muffin in one bite.

“Sure. Send it. How did Poveda get off the island?”

“Grabbed a ride on one of the water taxis. It was July. Summer vacation for a lot of people. Most of the cottages were rented. There was a lot of coming and going.”

Jason asked, “Which water taxi service?”

Shipka’s lip curled. “Seaport Sloops. I tried to talk to them, but nobody remembered anything. Which is not surprising given the stranglehold the Durrands have on this community.”

“Here’s the thing.” Jason cradled his coffee cup in his hands. “And I realize how much work you’ve put into this, and I’m not saying that your theory isn’t plausible. Even if you’re right about Shepherd Durrand murdering the Havemeyer kid…why wait twenty years to kill a possible witness to that crime? That’s your theory, right? Your theory is that Kerk was killed because he knows something about the Havemeyer kid’s disappearance?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Shipka snagged another muffin.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make sense. The Havemeyer case may not be closed, but it’s stone cold. I’m having trouble coming up with reasons why it would suddenly be crucial to shut up a remaining witness.”

“Then all I can say is you lack imagination.”

Tags: Josh Lanyon The Art of Murder Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024