Deadly Judgment (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 5) Page 15

  “Right.”

  “She was certain he’d been out Wednesday night? That’s the night Nakamura went to Viet Café.”

  “Yeah, I pushed her on that. She’s sure.” He blew out a breath. “You think McCleary and Nakamura met? Or maybe McCleary was seeing another woman.”

  “Could be. Let’s make sure we’ve gone over McCleary’s phone records carefully to see if he was seeing someone. And make sure Tara double-checks for emails from any women we can’t identify.”

  “I’ll follow up on that. Either way, I’m going to go talk to McCleary’s wife again. I called, and she’s at home.”

  “I’m surprised she’s already back at her house. But I do want to hear what she has to say.”

  “I figured you would because you followed up on Nakamura at the restaurant.”

  I looked at the dashboard clock. Almost 9:30. “I can be there in about twenty minutes or so, depending on traffic.”

  “See you there.”

  “The house feels so weird,” Joy McCleary said.

  We were sitting in her kitchen, and she’d offered Ernie and me coffee. Our cups and saucers were teal blue, but hers was a mug declaring “World’s Greatest Mom.” I’d gratefully accepted her offer, and had already downed half my coffee.

  She held her cup in her hand and stared at it. “The kids gave us matching cups one Christmas. Ray’s says ‘World’s Greatest Dad.’ Isn’t that cute?” She seemed momentarily lost in a memory. She had on tan slacks and a long-sleeve shirt, and her hair was perfectly done, but her makeup couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes. Her daughter, Dana, was watching TV in the other room, but with a careful eye on us. Joy had asked to talk to us alone.

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to come home. I didn’t know if I could walk through the door, but I needed to get some clothes, and I …” She looked around the kitchen. “I realized I wanted to be here. I wanted to feel his presence.” She glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, then lowered her voice. “Dana means well, but I wanted to have a moment with you all, without her hovering over me. Since Monday night, I’ve barely had time to catch my breath.” Her eyes crinkled with sadness. “The death of a spouse is like nothing you can describe, until you’ve been through it. There are times you’re just fine, and you have so much to do with the funeral, the burial, people coming into town, the phone calls. And then you find yourself alone, and it all hits you.”

  I could relate in a small way. I’ve only lost one person that I dearly loved, and that was when I was only eight years old. I’d lost my Uncle Brad, who had meant the world to me. I’d felt closer to him than anyone in my family, maybe even my parents, who always seemed to favor Diane over my brother, Hunter, and me. In retrospect, I think Uncle Brad knew that Diane and I didn’t get along, that she picked on me, and he understood that. He became my protector, and I was devastated when he died of a heart attack so unexpectedly. As Joy talked, I was momentarily taken back to that awful time and to those horrible feelings. It had been an extremely difficult time for me, a hard thing for a child to understand. And it hadn’t helped that Diane had picked on me pretty mercilessly when she knew I was hurting. No wonder things are hard between us.

  I expelled a breath in an attempt to let go of the sudden pain I felt, and to focus on the here-and-now. Ernie and I sat quietly and gave Joy a moment or two to be with her feelings. Then I gave him a slight tip of the head to let him carry the conversation and he began.

  “I’m sure this has all been extremely difficult, and you have our deepest sympathies.” Just his tone, his manner, was soothing. He had such a comforting way, especially with women.

  Joy looked up at him with a small smile. “That’s very kind of you. And you don’t need to be so careful. I know you have a job to do, and I want to help. I have to know who did that to my husband.”

  She glanced at me, and I gave her an encouraging nod. In the other room, Dana was trying to listen.

  “I was talking to your husband’s law clerk this morning,” Ernie said. “She said something about the judge being in a rather foul mood last Thursday morning. That made me wonder what he was doing the previous night.”

  “Wednesday night?” she said. “Let me think. Oh, he had gone out to dinner that night.”

  “I thought Wednesday was his poker night.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t play poker. I don’t know why.” She shrugged.

  “You didn’t go to dinner with him?” Ernie asked.

  She shook her head. “No, he called me from work and said that he needed to meet somebody, and that I should go ahead and eat dinner.”

  Ernie cocked an eyebrow. “Was that unusual?”

  “Yes, it actually was. Except for my Monday nights when I meet the girls, Ray and I usually would go out together. He wasn’t one to socialize much with the guys, other than his game nights or when he was golfing. We usually go out to eat with friends.”

  “Who did he meet?”

  She sipped coffee as she thought. “Let me think. I don’t believe he ever said.” She held up a finger. “As a matter of fact, I think I asked him, and he said a friend. I guess I didn’t bother to ask, but I was curious.”

  Ernie sipped his coffee as well, making sure not to rush her. It was important not to make her nervous, which can often interfere with a person’s recollection. The house was quiet except for the TV in the other room. Ernie was careful with his next question.

  “It wouldn’t have been a lady friend?”

  Rather than offend her, it made Joy laugh. “My husband wasn’t having an affair, if that’s what you think. Trust me, there were no unusual phone calls, and I’ve seen his emails and texts. Half the time he’d have me return texts for him, like when he was driving. I’d have seen something.”

  Ernie smiled. “We have to ask.”

  “I know.”

  “Did your husband know Judge Warren Nakamura?” he went on.

  She started shake her head, then stopped. “That’s the judge who was killed last night?”

  Ernie and I both nodded.

  She stared at her cup for a moment. “What a terrible shame. You’re thinking his death and Ray’s might be connected?”

  “That could be the case,” Ernie said.

  She thought about that. “I don’t see how. I don’t recall Ray ever saying he met Judge … Nakamura. Did I get the name correct?”

  Ernie smiled. “Yes.”

  “Ray’s mentioned several judges that he knows, and a couple that he’s friends with.” She rattled off a couple of names. “But Nakamura? No, that name doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “Maybe from a previous trial?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Ray’s presided over a lot of trials, and before that, he was a defense attorney. Could they have met back then?”

  It was a good suggestion, but one I didn’t have an answer for.

  Her cell phone sat on the counter, and it rang. She looked toward it, then shook her head. “Sometimes the calls don’t end. I’ll call them back later.”

  Ernie glanced at me, a signal for me to ask what I wanted to.

  “Did your husband say what restaurant he went to last Wednesday night?”

  Joy’s mouth formed a line. “No. I remember asking him where he went, and he didn’t really say. I asked if he had a good dinner, and he said it was fine.” Her face clouded over.

  “What?” I asked.

  She frowned. “It’s just that … he didn’t seem fine. He seemed angry and tense, which was not like him. I asked him if it was something about a trial, and he was quick to say no, then told me it was nothing to worry about. I’ve learned over the years not to press him, but something was definitely wrong that night.” She tensed up. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that when I talked to you the other night. I … well, I just wasn’t thinking clearly at all.”

  Ernie rested a hand on the table. “Don’t worry about it. Sometimes things occur to people at different times, after the shock h
as worn off.”

  She relaxed a little and looked back at me. “After he came home, he went into his office, and I heard him on the phone, his voice raised a couple of times. When he came back out, he seemed to be a little calmer. I didn’t think about it again. We watched a little TV and then went to bed.” She gave a little shrug, as if that was it.

  “You’re sure he didn’t say what restaurant?” I asked.

  She gave that careful thought. “No, he didn’t mention the restaurant. When I asked him, he kind of blew it off, said that it was some Asian restaurant on Federal. And I thought that was a little weird, a different part of town from where we would normally go, but I didn’t say anything.”

  I glanced at Ernie and tried to keep my elation in check. It sure seemed like Raymond McCleary and Warren Nakamura had met in person. She must have seen the glance.

  “What?” Joy asked. “Is that significant?”

  I nodded slowly. “From what everyone has told us, your husband and Judge Nakamura may have met last Wednesday night, and yet everyone says they didn’t know each other.”

  “They didn’t know each other.” She ran a finger along the handle of her coffee cup. “Ray never mentioned Warren Nakamura at all. I’m sure of that.”

  “Could you think back,” Ernie said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Did your husband ever mention meeting an Asian-American judge?”

  She stared past us. “No, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “Did you overhear anything of your husband’s conversation in his office last Wednesday night?” Ernie pressed.

  She shook her head. “No. When the doors are closed, I can just hear voices, but not what he’s saying.”

  “Who does he play poker with?” Ernie asked. He had gotten that information before, but I’m sure he wanted to make sure she hadn’t left out anyone that we could talk to.

  She told him the names, and he nodded. “I’ll have to see if your husband mentioned Nakamura to any of them.”

  “Check with Ken Tewksbury, too.”

  “Your husband’s best friend.” Ernie nodded. “I will.”

  “I’m sorry,” Joy said. “I feel like I’m not being helpful, but Ray never said a word to me about this other judge.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re looking at everything, and we have to ask the questions.”

  “I know.” She looked over at her daughter, who now seemed more engaged in the TV show. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here talking with you about this.”

  I glanced again at Ernie. I could tell that he was thinking what I was, that the two judges knew each other, and the question was why no one had known this. Now I called to Dana, and she came into the kitchen.

  “Is everything going okay?” she asked as she put a hand on her mom’s shoulder.

  I nodded. “Yes, just one question for you, if you don’t mind. Did your father ever mention Warren Nakamura?”

  Her bemusement was genuine. “Not at all.”

  I looked at both of them. “Do you know Olivia Hartnell or Victor Marko?” I described both of them and received two shakes of the head.

  “Ray never said anything about either of them,” Joy said.

  I downed the last of my coffee, and Ernie and I stood up. We’d gotten what we needed here. We thanked Joy and her daughter for their time and left.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Circle back with all of McCleary’s friends,” I said as we hurried to our cars. “I want to know if anybody knew that McCleary and Nakamura were meeting, if anybody saw them with each other. I hate to bother them all again, but this investigation is bigger than we thought.”

  “You got it,” he said. “I’ll start with Ken Tewksbury. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything.”

  “Could be.” I thought for a second. “McCleary was a defense attorney, right?”

  “Yeah. Joy said he was making really good money, but he didn’t like the people he was defending, so he moved on, became a judge.”

  I nodded. “And Nakamura was a prosecuting attorney.”

  “Yep.” His eyes narrowed.

  I swore softly. “What if we’ve been looking at this wrong? What if it’s not something with the two judges’ cases now, the trials they’ve recently presided over, but something farther back, when they were both attorneys?”

  Ernie stuffed an unlit cigar in his mouth. “Oh boy.”

  “I’ll call Spats. I’ll have him keep scouring both judges’ cases, but go back even further.”

  “That’s a lot of looking,” Ernie said.

  I gnawed my lip. “Yeah, but maybe searching some electronic files will help, or possibly google.”

  He took the cigar out of his mouth and pointed it at me. “Two judges, who were once attorneys on the same case, and somebody’s after both of them?”

  I pondered that. “Something like that.”

  He said something I’d been worrying about. “If McCleary and Nakamura were attorneys on a common trial, do we have a killer who’ll try to kill the judge who presided over that trial?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I need to follow up on Victor Marko’s alibis,” I said. “Then I’ll help Spats.”

  He gave me a little salute, hurried to his car, and got in. I watched him drive away, then got in the Escape and called Spats.

  “Speelmahn,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got something new,” I said. I told him about the conversation Ernie and I had with Joy McCleary.

  “Oh man,” he said. “If the two judges are connected, how does Felix Robinson fit into it?”

  I stared out the windshield at the McCleary house. “I’m still looking into that. I’m going to check Victor Marko’s alibi for last night, after I saw him. You’re at the federal courthouse now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get the teams to start going through McCleary’s and Nakamura’s trials before they were judges. Start with this jurisdiction; see if they were on any common trials. And maybe Felix has a connection to both that goes that far back. It’s still entirely possible that Robinson was after McCleary, but he took out a second judge to throw us off.” I tapped the steering wheel. “Although I’m less convinced of that theory.”

  “Okay, we’ll keep searching through trials.”

  “Let me track down Marko’s alibi, and then I’ll head over there.”

  He let out labored sigh. “Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere. This is slow going. You’d think they’d have an easier way to search all this stuff.”

  I laughed at that. “You know, the government isn’t as efficient as we’d like it to be.”

  Another laugh. “I am not going to say anything to that. See you soon.”

  I ended the call and immediately dialed Hernandez. Once I filled him in, I said, “It’s a pain, but talk to Nakamura’s daughters and his neighbors again, see if he said anything about McCleary. Make sure you talk to the neighbor Ed Renfro. I think he kept more of an eye on Nakamura than he’s saying.”

  “I’ll get on it.”

  I finally put my phone down and drove away from the McCleary’s house.

  Marko had said that on Tuesday night and early Wednesday morning he had been home with his girlfriend, Emma Blandino. Nakamura had likely been killed early Wednesday morning, so if Marko was telling the truth, he was in the clear for that murder. He’d told me that she worked at a flooring company on South Santa Fe. I headed there next.

  AJC Floorings was located in a strip mall on the west side of Santa Fe, a busy thoroughfare. Near a lot of warehouses, and textiles and manufacturing shops. I parked in front of a long blue building and went inside. The showroom had several aisles with various types of vinyl flooring.

  “Be with you in a second,” a polite, feminine voice called out.

  I looked to the left, and a woman with curly dark hair, heavy makeup, and loop earrings emerged from between racks that displayed flooring samples. She smiled pleasantly.

  “May I help you? Do
you have an appointment?”

  I shook my head and showed her my badge. The smile immediately disappeared. “I’m Detective Spillman, and I need to speak to Emma Blandino.”

  “That’s me,” she said cautiously. She’d been forewarned.

  I looked around the empty showroom. “Are you expecting anybody?” I asked. “Another appointment?”

  She eyed the door. “Yes, someone should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll make this quick. You’re dating a man named Victor Marko.”

  She didn’t deny it. “Yes, for over a year now. He told me that you were talking to him.” The tone wasn’t quite sullen, but it wasn’t totally cooperative, either.

  “What were you doing last night?” I asked.

  “I worked until six, and then I went home, got some dinner and took care of some laundry, then went over to Victor’s. He wasn’t home, so I watched TV until he showed up. Then we watched the basketball game.”

  “Oh?” I said. “Who was playing?”

  “The Nuggets and the Lakers,” she said. “The Nuggets won.”

  She was being quite helpful, as if Victor had coached her. So far, everything she’d said had matched what he’d told me. I went on, careful not to lead her, to see if her answers continued to match Victor’s.

  “He goes by Victor, not Vic?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I always call him Victor.”

  “Do you ever hear Victor talking to his friends?”

  She snorted. “Well, sure, here and there. Or he texts people.” She looked at me, puzzled.

  “Ever hear anything about Olivia?”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “No, who’s that?” She seemed genuinely bewildered.

  “A friend of his.”

  “Never heard of her.” A tinge of jealousy, perhaps. It would be interesting to hear her ask Victor about Olivia when she saw him later.

  “What did he say about Felix Robinson?” I asked.

  She bit her lip. “I heard the name, but I’ve never met him.”

  With that one, I couldn’t be sure if she was telling the truth. “What did he tell you about Judge McCleary or Judge Nakamura?” I mentioned the names out of the blue to see how she’d react.