“But you approved the termination, right?”
“Yes. I always back up my guys. Todd told me he wanted to let Simon go, I backed him up.”
“What do you think about the merits of the lawsuit, the one that Simon filed against Todd and the company? Do you believe that Todd made those statements about the daughter’s medical expenses?”
“I have no idea.”
“Did he ever say anything like that to you?”
“No. Anyway, you were saying, about the warrants?”
Bennie thought fast, forming a plan. “It sounds to me like you’re right, in the point you were making. A warrant has to be specific in scope to be constitutional. In other words, a warrant gives the police permission to look only for documents or items that are reasonably related to their investigation.”
“That’s what I’m talking about! So why do they have to go in my office?”
“I agree with you, they don’t.” Bennie steered forward, reading the highway signs, their reflective numerals bright in the storm. “If the warrant seeks documents or seeks to search places that are irrelevant, it’s overbroad in scope and invalid.”
“So why did they ask then? And what are they looking for?”
“Evidence, in general. Most of the time, the cops get an overbroad warrant from a judge and it’s boilerplate. Nobody calls them on it because they don’t know the difference or have legal counsel. But you’re right to do so, and I agree with you.”
“Okay, so what do we do now? How do we know if this warrant is too broad or whatever you called it?”
“I have to read the warrant and make a judgment.”
“I don’t have it. Ernie has it at the plant. You want to call him and have him read it to you?”
“I have a better idea.” Bennie put on her blinker and steered to the right, heading for the Blue Route. “I’m in the neighborhood, about fifteen minutes away. Why don’t I go over to the plant myself? Read the warrant and see what’s going on?”
“Good deal, thanks. I’ll text Ernie. I gotta go.”
“Thanks, safe travels.” Bennie hung up the phone, feeling a twinge of guilt, but not much. Her motto had always been Don’t ask permission, apologize later, and it had served her in good stead so far. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had called Mike herself, misrepresenting her position. All she did was answer the phone and try to help a guy out. And all she wanted to do was peek around OpenSpace and see what she could see.
Bennie hit the gas, heading for Horsham.
Fifteen minutes later, she turned onto the road that led to OpenSpace, and though her visibility was poor, she could see a commotion in the parking lot, a marked change from earlier that day. Several police cruisers were parked idling in front of the building, and Bennie assumed the cops were inside, staying out of the rain. The administrative offices were lit up, and the factory was still running.
She turned in to the driveway, steered to the left through the downpour, giving the police cars and some other cars parked in front a wide berth. She wanted to get into the building, spook around, and then deal with the cops, not the reverse order. She parked around the left side of the building, cut the ignition, and braced herself to get rained on by grabbing her purse, putting it on her head, and bolting out of the car.
She ran for the entrance with her head down and under her purse, racing around the building. She splashed through puddles in the parking lot and bounded up the front steps in the downpour. She ran into the building and entered the lobby, which was empty except for three men standing in a circle. She recognized Ray Matewicz, the operations type who’d been in the meeting, but didn’t know the other two. She wondered if one was Ernie Greeley, the director of Security named in the defamation complaint against Simon.
“Hello, Ray, hi, gentlemen,” she began, brushing droplets off her khaki suit. She approached the two men she didn’t know. “And you are?”
“Bennie, you don’t need to meet anybody else.” Ray broke from the group and strode toward her, unsmiling. “I assume you know that Simon killed Todd today.”
“Well, I heard that Todd was murdered and I’m very sorry about that. My condolences—”
“You’re not sorry.” Ray folded his arms.
“Of course I am.”
“Oh come on.” Ray’s eyes flashed with anger. “Why are you here?”
“I got a call from Mike Bashir about the police and I was in the neighborhood, so I came by.”
“You were in the neighborhood?” Ray cocked his head skeptically.
“Yes.” Bennie kept a straight face, a skill she had learned from telling lies to get to the truth.
“I don’t believe for one minute that Mike called you. He’s not even here.”
“I know, he’s in Scottsdale. In fact, hold on.” Bennie got her phone out of her purse, scrolled to Recent Calls, and showed it to Ray. “See?”
Ray looked up from the phone screen, his mouth tight. “He called you because he didn’t know you got fired. Oh yeah, we heard that, too. See, we called our real lawyer, Jason, when the cops came and Jason told us you got shit-canned. Did you tell Mike that?”
Busted. “Ray, look—”
“We saw Simon and his lawyer on the news. They said his lawyer is from Rosato & DiNunzio. We looked it up. You’re the same Rosato. You’re on the other side.”
“There’s no sides.”
“There is to us. Todd is, was, our friend. You’re here working for Simon.”
“No, I came to help.” Bennie held her head high. “You want the whole factory searched? Then I’ll go.”
“Go. Jason’s on the way. Leave the premises, right now.”
“Fine.” Bennie turned away and headed for the door, her low heels clacking on the floor.
“And we want our documents back,” Ray called after her.
“Which documents?” Bennie paused, turning around.
“When you interviewed Todd this morning, you asked for some documents. They got delivered to your office. We emailed you a digital file too. Those documents are ours, property of OpenSpace. We want them back tonight.”
“The office is closed. Send a messenger in the morning.” Bennie turned away. It was an odd thing to bring up, and her thoughts started to churn. She pushed open the exit door, covered her head with her purse, and sprinted to the car, reenergized. She couldn’t explain why Ray would care about a bunch of personnel files and emails.
But she was going to find out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mary moved her chair over closer to Simon so he felt supported, as Detective Lindenhurst entered the room. He was a beefy blond and came off as older than he probably was, which was probably fortysomething. His face was so fleshy that his cheeks pressed against the bottom rims of his oversized aviator glasses, making little red marks on his face. The lines that traveled from his large, flat nose to the sides of his mouth were deep, as if he frowned a lot, which Mary suspected was an occupational hazard for a homicide detective.
“We’re ready to get started if you are, Detective,” Mary said, putting her legal pad and pen in her lap.
“I appreciate that. Can we hold on a sec for my partner, Detective Chang?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you.” Detective Lindenhurst smiled in a friendly way as he eased his large frame into the chair opposite her, looking from her to Simon. “Simon, you look like you could use a coffee or a bottled water. Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No thanks,” Simon answered, his tone subdued.
“By the way, I didn’t get to say this at the hospital, but I know what it’s like to have a sick child. My five-year-old niece had bone cancer. She was at CHOP, too. It’s hard to see a child go through that kind of treatment. My wife used to say it was harder on us than it was on my niece, but I didn’t agree. At least we understood what was happening and why. She didn’t.”
“How is your niece?” Simon asked, interested.
“Happily, she recovered
. They’re terrific at CHOP.”
“Good to know,” Mary interjected, breaking up Detective Lindenhurst’s attempt to connect with Simon. Being a person of interest placed him in a legal purgatory, in that he wasn’t under arrest but he was nevertheless in custody. It wasn’t completely to his benefit, since not all the constitutional protections applied, and the police would try to make him feel relaxed, as if nothing he could say would hurt him, when in fact the opposite was true.
Suddenly the door opened, and Detective Chang came in with a smile. He was younger, of compact build, and reserved. His dark hair shone with gel, and his build looked slight in a dark jacket. He sat down against the wall, ceding the floor to Detective Lindenhurst. “Folks, sorry I’m late. Hope you didn’t wait for me.”
Mary didn’t bother to reply. “Detective Lindenhurst, can we first clarify my client’s status? I understand that he’s a person of interest, but why?”
“We’re in possession of facts that lead us to believe he may know something about the death of Todd Eddington. We’d like to explore that with him. That’s all.” Detective Lindenhurst shrugged his heavy shoulders, and Mary knew that he didn’t want to start the interview on this basis, which was why she wanted to, to remind Simon that in this case, the policeman was not his friend.
“But you’re not arresting him. That means those facts must fall short of probable cause to believe that he committed the crime.”
“Yes, exactly.” Detective Lindenhurst pursed his lips, which were thick. “This is just an investigatory interview. You both are free to come and go at any time.”
“But it is custodial interrogation.”
“That’s a harsh way to put it.”
“But is it accurate? Will you Mirandize him, for example?”
“Yes, but only out of an abundance of caution. You understand.”
“I do,” Mary said, hearing that she had good reason to be concerned.
“And we will ask Simon to provide some samples before he leaves today.”
“What sort of samples?” Mary asked, though she knew. She wanted it spelled out for Simon.
“A hair sample, blood, saliva, fingerprints, and a DNA sample. Only a mouth swab.” Detective Lindenhurst turned to Simon. “This is standard operating procedure, as a point of information.”
Mary interjected again, “You’re not asking for his consent, are you? Because we’re not consenting to a search for bodily evidence.”
Detective Lindenhurst looked back at Mary. “We’re not asking for consent. We have a warrant.”
Mary masked her dismay. That meant the police had enough facts to raise probable cause to get a search warrant, but not yet an arrest warrant. “I’d like to see that before we produce the samples.”
“Of course, after we speak.” Detective Lindenhurst hesitated. “I suppose it makes sense to get these preliminaries out of the way first. In that vein, we would also appreciate him leaving his shirt and pants with us and we will provide him with a sweat suit to wear home.”
“Fine,” Mary said, having no choice but to agree. She had warned Simon that the police might make the request, so he knew not to overreact, and he didn’t. The police lab would look for fibers from Simon’s clothes in Todd’s car and, given that there had been a fight, they would find some. For the same reason, they would probably find fibers and DNA from Todd’s clothes and body in Simon’s car. It would be strong physical evidence against Simon.
“We also have a search warrant for his home, office, and car. Just to verify, you reside at 2938 Holly Lane, Horsham, PA, correct?”
“Yes.”
Mary let it go. The police were entitled to ask for basic information and there was no point in fighting when it didn’t matter.
“And you are employed by OpenSpace, correct?”
“Until recently.”
Detective Lindenhurst nodded. “The home and office are currently being searched, but we assume the car’s in the parking lot at CHOP, correct?”
“Yes,” Simon answered.
“And you drive a 2013 Ford Explorer, with the license plate TRAIN1.”
“Yes.” Simon smiled uncomfortably. “I collect trains.”
Mary knew Simon collected trains, but she hadn’t known about the vanity plate.
“And we have a warrant to search your phone, so I’d like to have that before you go.”
“Fine,” Mary nodded, and Simon didn’t react, having been made aware.
“Bear with me a moment.” Detective Lindenhurst turned to the rickety table, picked up some blank forms, and recited the Miranda rights to Simon, then took him through the standard form, acknowledging that he’d been read his rights. The detective had Simon sign it, then set the forms aside.
Mary went first. “Detective Lindenhurst, I don’t want to waste your time. My client is not going to answer any questions in this interview today.”
“I haven’t even asked one. Why don’t you give it a chance?”
“I think a better way to proceed is for you to let us know why you called us in here.”
“Okay, we’ll do it your way.” Detective Lindenhurst sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. “As you know, Todd Eddington was employed before his death as sales manager at OpenSpace and your client reported to him until Mr. Eddington terminated him a few days ago.”
Mary noted he didn’t emphasize the causal connection because he didn’t have to.
“We are aware that your client has made clear he intends to sue, claiming that his termination was unlawful. His proof is certain statements he alleges were made by Mr. Eddington.”
Mary didn’t interrupt him, and he wasn’t telling anything they didn’t know already, which was the only reason he was telling it. It was way too soon for them to have made headway on their investigation.
“We are also aware that Simon was served today with the countersuit for defamation based on his alleged statements about Mr. Eddington, and that he became very upset when he was served.”
Mary hadn’t known that Simon had reacted badly, but she could’ve guessed it. Simon didn’t move, listening quietly, his hands linked in his lap.
“As you may have heard, Todd Eddington was found dead in his car at approximately seven o’clock this evening. An autopsy is being conducted and until it is complete, we will not know the official manner of death. But the cause is a mortal stab wound to the chest. We think, three wounds, but that’s not official.”
“How do you know there were three?” Mary didn’t know if he would answer, but you couldn’t blame a girl for asking. Bennie would have.
“I was at the scene. I saw the body.” Detective Lindenhurst’s upper lip curled, and Mary guessed it had been a gruesome sight.
“Do you happen to know if he had his wallet or his watch?”
“He had both.”
Mary drew the same conclusion that the police must have, that it wasn’t a robbery. But for them, it made it more likely that Simon had done it. “Is it still an active crime scene?”
“Yes, until we close it.”
“I’d like to go there, as soon as possible.”
“We can arrange that.”
“Have you found the knife that was used?” Mary took another shot. She was on a roll, probably because Detective Lindenhurst wanted to see if Simon would confess in return for a plea deal.
“No, we are actively looking for it. We expect to do better when the rain lets up.”
Mary made a mental note. If the knife was disposed of outside, the rain might contaminate any physical evidence on the knife, like blood or DNA. “So obviously, you’ve ruled out suicide?”
“Yes.” Detective Lindenhurst shook his head. “The medical examiner hasn’t officially classified the death a homicide yet, as I say, but we saw no reason to delay talking with you and your client as soon as possible after Mr. Eddington’s body was found.”
“And why my client? Why call us in, as I asked before?”
“We have spoken with officials at
the Tomahawk Country Club and we have determined that security camera footage shows your client’s Ford Explorer entering the parking lot at 5:25 P.M. and leaving approximately twenty minutes later, at 5:50 P.M.”
“How can you be sure it’s his car? It’s been a torrential downpour tonight. The visibility must be terrible.”
“It’s good enough to make out the vanity plate.”
“So you have footage of the entrance and exit to the parking lot?”
“Yes.”
“How about the parking lot itself?”
“We have most of the parking lot.”
“Were there other cars in the lot?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Five.”
“Have you questioned those drivers?” Mary said, though she had just gained a bit of valuable information.
“We’re in the process of investigating.” Detective Lindenhurst straightened in the chair, crossing his legs to reveal the leathery edge of an ankle holster. “However, the corner in which Mr. Eddington parked was out of range of the camera. He seemed to have parked at the farthermost point of the lot.” The detective turned to Simon. “So where were you between five and eight o’clock today? Were you driving your car, or was somebody else?”
Mary interjected, “My client is not going to answer that or any other question.”
Detective Lindenhurst continued, still facing Simon, “And if you were driving your car, did you meet Mr. Eddington and if so, what happened?”
Mary answered for Simon, “My client is not going to answer any of those questions. So you need to stop looking at him and start looking at me.”
Detective Lindenhurst turned to her. “It would be in his benefit to talk to us,” he said, keeping his tone light.
“Why is that?” Mary asked, keeping her tone light too.
“Let me explain to you how I see it, Mary.” Detective Lindenhurst leaned over, his expression softening. “You practice civil law, and I happen to know that you tried to settle this case. I admire that. I like when lawyers try to settle civil cases. Why do they do that, would you mind telling me?”