A Reasonable Doubt Page 11

  “I hope we don’t find Chesterfield sprawled on the rocks where they found Lily Dowd’s body,” Robin said.

  “That would be very creepy.”

  Robin hummed The X-Files theme, and Jeff laughed.

  “I can see that you’re not taking Chesterfield’s disappearing act seriously,” he said.

  “I just don’t trust him. Regina didn’t like him. She wouldn’t say it, but I’m sure she thought he poisoned the chocolates that killed Sophie Randall. And his phony upper-class Brit act wears on you after a while.”

  They walked down the cliff to the spot where Lily Dowd’s body had been found, but Chesterfield’s body wasn’t sprawled on the rocks. After walking south for fifteen minutes more, Jeff and Robin walked back toward the house. Robin stopped when they reached the spot where a flight of weatherworn wooden stairs led to the beach. She looked down.

  “That’s interesting,” she said.

  “What is?”

  “There was a speedboat moored at the dock down there. It’s gone now.”

  “That is interesting. And so is that,” Jeff said, pointing to a door in the side of the mansion.

  Robin walked over and opened it. Jeff flipped a light switch. They were in a mudroom stocked with items you would use at the beach or on a boat. There was also an ascending flight of stairs.

  “Let’s see where this goes,” Robin said.

  Jeff followed Robin up. There was a door at the top. Robin opened it and found herself in a short concrete corridor that led to the side of the stage in the theater. She walked around the dolly that had been used to bring the sarcophagus to the stage and looked out. Chesterfield’s assistants were sitting in the front-row seats.

  Jeff looked at them. Then he smiled. “What do you say, ladies? Mystery solved?”

  “We can’t answer that question,” one of the women said.

  “Right. The nondisclosure agreement,” Robin said. “I don’t know how he got out of the coffin, but I’m willing to bet that your boss left by that door, went down to the dock, and hightailed it in the speedboat. I have no idea where he went next. Do you?”

  The women looked at one another.

  “Come on. This has nothing to do with the illusion.”

  The women huddled. Then one of them said, “Honestly, we don’t have any idea. We really expected Mr. Chesterfield to be at the back of the theater.”

  “Okay, I believe you. Jeff and I are going to tell the others what we found. Why don’t you join us?”

  Jeff and Robin found Claire and several of the other guests in the living room. Robin told them their theory about the speedboat.

  “Between everyone, we’ve searched the house and grounds,” Claire said. “There are still many places Bobby could hide, but I’m fairly confident that he’s not here, which makes your theory very plausible.”

  “What do you want us to do, Claire?” Horace Dobson asked.

  “I think Bobby is playing one of his games, and I, for one, am not in the mood to humor him. So I’m going home, and I suggest you do too.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Robin said, taking Jeff’s arm. “Shall we?”

  “We shall.”

  Claire turned to Miriam Ross. “If my husband shows up, don’t tell me.”

  Then she and David Turner followed Robin and Jeff outside.

  Auggie Montenegro smiled at Dobson. “Looks like your client took it on the lam.”

  Then he turned to Miriam. “Unlike Claire, if Lord Bobby reappears, I am definitely interested in hearing about it. There might even be a finder’s fee for any information.” Auggie winked at Ross. Then he led his date toward the door.

  “You get in touch, right away, if Bobby shows up,” Dobson told Ross before he left.

  When the door closed, Miriam dropped onto a couch and held her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe Bobby would run out on her. Not after all the promises he’d made. He would show up. She was sure of it. Ross took a deep breath and got to her feet. The waitstaff was standing around, watching her.

  “Let’s get this place cleaned up. I want it looking spotless when Mr. Chesterfield returns.”

  Ross hoped that her tone carried more certainty than she felt.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “No further questions,” Robin said.

  “I don’t have any either,” Deputy District Attorney Amy Arnold said. “Can Officer Mayfield be excused?”

  “Miss Lockwood?” Judge Irving Knolls asked.

  “That’s fine with me.”

  “Any more witnesses?” the judge asked.

  “No, Your Honor,” Robin said as the officer headed for the door to the courtroom.

  “Your motion to suppress presents a fascinating legal issue, Miss Lockwood,” Judge Knolls said, “and this is definitely a close question. You may get a different result in the Court of Appeals, but you haven’t convinced me that the officers acted in violation of state or federal law when they searched your client’s car. So I’m going to deny the motion. Are you ready to proceed to trial?”

  “Miss Arnold and I have been discussing a plea offer. If you give us a few minutes, we may be able to resolve this matter without a trial.”

  “Okay. It’s getting close to twelve anyway. Let’s recess, and I’ll see you back here at one thirty,” the judge said.

  “Why don’t you wait in the hall while I talk to the DA,” Robin told her client.

  “So, Amy, what do you want to do?” Robin asked when the two lawyers were alone in the courtroom. “Lamar doesn’t have any priors, he’s got a good job, and he was taking the painkillers for a bad back.”

  “And selling them illegally.”

  “Have a heart,” Robin said. “Those drugs are expensive, and he’s just making it financially.”

  The DA looked troubled. She went quiet, and Robin let her think.

  “Will he go to rehab?” Arnold asked.

  “Definitely. He’s addicted and he doesn’t like it. It’s causing problems at work and with his marriage.”

  “Okay. If he waives his right to a speedy trial, agrees to go into rehab, and successfully completes it, I’ll dismiss the case.”

  “Thanks. Let me ask Lamar if he’ll accept the deal.”

  * * *

  Robin’s client agreed to the deal, and Robin told him to be back in court at one thirty. Then she told Amy Arnold that her client was going to take the offer. When she left the courtroom to go to lunch, she found Jeff waiting for her in the hall.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” Robin said. “Want to grab a bite?”

  “Did you win the motion?”

  “No, but I knew Arnold was worried that I’d win on appeal, so she gave Lamar a sweetheart deal. No jail, and she’ll dismiss if he successfully completes rehab.”

  “Good work. I’ll treat for lunch.”

  Robin smiled. “It’s great having a sugar daddy as a boyfriend.”

  Jeff handed Robin a newspaper. “You left early for the gym, so I don’t think you’ve seen this.”

  MAGICIAN’S MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE

  One month ago, Robert Chesterfield, a celebrity magician whose stage name is Lord Chesterfield, disappeared from his seaside mansion on the Oregon coast during a private showing of the Chamber of Death, an illusion he was preparing for his debut at the Babylon Casino in Las Vegas. Mr. Chesterfield had been chained inside a sarcophagus filled with poisonous snakes and scorpions. When the sarcophagus was opened, the magician had disappeared. According to his personal assistant, Miriam Ross, Mr. Chesterfield was supposed to reappear behind the audience, but he has not been seen since he escaped from the coffin.

  A week ago, the United States Coast Guard discovered a speedboat belonging to Mr. Chesterfield floating off the coast of California in the vicinity of San Diego. Blood on a shoe that has been identified as belonging to Mr. Chesterfield and more blood recovered from the speedboat has been matched to Mr. Chesterfield by DNA testing. The San Diego Police Department has issued a statement saying
that they have no further information concerning the whereabouts of the missing magician.

  Robert Chesterfield gained notoriety in 1998, when he was arrested for the murder of Sophie Randall and Arthur Gentry and the attempted murder of Samuel Moser. Oregon attorney Regina Barrister represented Mr. Chesterfield and was instrumental in getting the case dismissed. No one else has been arrested since the Multnomah County District Attorney’s Office dismissed the charges against Mr. Chesterfield. Peter Ragland, who prosecuted the case against Mr. Chesterfield, had no comment when asked about the current developments or the 1998 cases.

  “What do you think?” Jeff asked when Robin finished reading the article.

  “He could have staged the scene so people would think he was dead.”

  “Or he could be the victim of foul play,” Jeff said.

  Robin sighed. “It’s not our problem, Jeff.”

  “Too true. But aren’t you dying to know what happened?”

  “Honestly, no. Now, where do you want to eat?”

  * * *

  When Rafael Otero walked into Auggie Montenegro’s spacious corner office on the top floor of the Happy Mountain Casino, his boss was reading one newspaper, and two others were spread out in front of him.

  “You wanted to see me, boss?”

  Auggie kept reading, but he motioned toward a chair on the other side of his aircraft-carrier-size desk. “You seen these news stories about the speedboat?” Auggie asked.

  “What speedboat?”

  “Don’t you read or watch the news?”

  “I’ve been busy. I don’t have time for TV or newspapers.”

  “You should make time. The more educated you are, the better decisions you make.”

  Rafael knew Auggie would get to the point eventually, so he didn’t say anything.

  “Remember I told you about Chesterfield’s disappearing act? Well, Lockwood, his lawyer, thought he took off in a speedboat. The coast guard just found it floating offshore near San Diego. There was a lot of blood and a bloodstained shoe, like the one Chesterfield was wearing when he did his act.”

  “They think he’s dead?” Rafael asked.

  “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I know Bobby. He’s a magician, and magicians make a living by fooling people. That greasy motherfucker is playing everyone. San Diego is spitting distance from Mexico. A person who owes money can find a lot of places to hide in Mexico. Bobby is alive and well, Rafael, and I want you to find him.”

  “That seems like a lot of trouble to go to over a couple of grand.”

  “It’s not the money. It’s the principle. If I let Bobby walk away, every piece of shit who owes me will start getting bright ideas. So, you head south and find him, and when you do, you fuck him up good. It’s got to look horrible. I want this to be a warning to anyone who thinks about stiffing me. So, lots of blood, lots of gore, and leave the body where every jerk with an IOU can see it.”

  * * *

  “Where’s your client?” Joe Samuels screamed into the phone. “And don’t you dare tell me he’s in Davy Jones’s locker! I know better.”

  “Then you know more than me,” Horace Dobson said. “I want to wring that bastard’s neck as badly as you do. Canceling his show at the Babylon has cost me a fortune.”

  “The lawsuit I’m going to file against your crooked ass is going to cost you a hell of a lot more.”

  “Calm down, Joe. I had no idea Bobby was embezzling the money you put up to finance his illusion.”

  “So you say. I think you knew what that bastard was doing, and you took your cut.”

  “Say that to anyone else, and I’ll be the one suing for slander.”

  “Fuck you, Dobson,” Samuels said as he slammed down the phone.

  Horace Dobson leaned back, closed his eyes, and muttered, “Fucking Bobby,” over and over.

  * * *

  “The coast guard found Bobby’s boat covered in blood, but no one’s found his body, so he could still be alive,” Claire Madison told her lawyer as soon as he took her call. “How does this affect a divorce?”

  “If you want to get a divorce, you have to notify your spouse. Usually, you serve him with divorce papers. You can’t do that if he’s missing.”

  “I knew it. The son of a bitch is doing this deliberately because I exposed him as Mysterioso.”

  “There’s a procedure called ‘divorce by publication’ you can use if you can’t find your spouse, but it will cost you, and it takes a while.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  “You have to convince a judge, based on a sworn affidavit, that you’ve done everything in your power to find the missing spouse and you still can’t locate him.”

  “How long is that going to take?”

  “Several months. I can send you a copy of the affidavit of diligent search. It will tell you what you have to do. But let me ask you a few questions. Who has more money, you or Mr. Chesterfield?”

  “Me.”

  “Do you have a prenup?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have a serious boyfriend?”

  Claire hesitated. “I am with someone.”

  “Do you want to marry him once you’re divorced?”

  “God no. I’m done with marriage.”

  “Okay. Then a divorce is the last thing you want. If you divorce Mr. Chesterfield, there’s a possibility that you might have to share your estate with him. If he stays missing for five years, you can have him declared legally dead. Then you don’t need a divorce.”

  “So missing is good?”

  “Very good.”

  PART FOUR

  RESURRECTION

  2020

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  This is the true story of how Jimmy O’Leary really found God.

  Shortly after Jimmy was sentenced to ten years in the Oregon State Penitentiary, he decided that he didn’t like being in prison. Jimmy wasn’t afraid of being beaten up or raped in the shower, since he was bigger, stronger, and meaner than almost every other con at OSP. Jimmy’s problem was that he loved women, hunting, and fishing, and there were no females, trout, or deer where he was living.

  As soon as Jimmy decided that he had to get out of prison he decided that he needed a plan, but that created another problem. Jimmy was big and strong, but he wasn’t very bright, so he had no luck devising a plan. Then he met Omar Sykes while he was pumping iron in the yard. Omar was serving life without the possibility of parole and was feared by the other inmates because he was crazy and crafty and had nothing to lose. Omar liked to recruit dumb, strong, mean inmates like Jimmy to his team so he could control the prison drug trade.

  “If you want to get out of OSP, you got to find God,” Omar advised.

  “How come?” Jimmy asked.

  “You know the old saying, there aren’t any atheists in foxholes?”

  “No.”

  Omar decided that he would have to slow things down for Jimmy. “You know what an atheist is?”

  “No.”

  “It’s someone who doesn’t believe in God.”

  “Okay.”

  “And you know what a foxhole is?”

  Jimmy nodded. “It’s where you hide in a war movie.”

  “Exactly!” Omar said. “Now, when you say that there are no atheists in foxholes, what you mean is that even if you don’t believe in God, if you are facing death, you’ll hedge your bets by praying for God’s help, just in case he exists. Got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Now, there aren’t any atheists in parole board hearings, either. Every con who goes in front of the board says he’s found God. Of course, no one on the board believes him. They know cons make that shit up so they can get paroled. But when the board is convinced that an inmate really and truly has found God, the chances that con will get himself a parole go way up. You got that?”

  “Yeah. So, to get out, I got to be religious.”

  “Correct. Only you can’t find God too fast. You got to do it slow and thoughtful
or the board will know you’re running a scam.”

  “How do I find God slowly?” Jimmy asked, and Omar told him.

  The next Sunday, Jimmy went to the prison chapel, as Omar had advised. Then he went every Sunday until the prison chaplain noticed him. The first time the chaplain tried to engage Jimmy in conversation, Jimmy followed Omar’s advice and said he was just in chapel for something to do. Gradually, he began talking to the chaplain, and he soon “confessed” that the chaplain’s sermons had gotten him thinking.

  Jimmy didn’t profess to having been converted until his third parole board hearing, which was attended by the chaplain, who testified that Jimmy was truly saved. Parole was granted after Jimmy had served five years.

  Things looked rosy until ten days before Jimmy was going to walk out of prison. That’s when Peter Knox, a new inmate from Jimmy’s old neighborhood, told him that Timothy Rankin, Jimmy’s former cellmate, was screwing Loretta. Loretta had been Jimmy’s girlfriend when he went in, and he still had the hots for her.

  Jimmy had gone on and on about Loretta while he was bunking with Rankin, and he felt betrayed. After his conversation with Peter Knox, it occurred to Jimmy that Loretta had stopped visiting him. Her excuses always made sense, but her absence left Jimmy anxious and wanting. And now that he started thinking about it, he realized that he hadn’t heard from Loretta for quite some time.

  When Jimmy walked through the prison gates, his brother, Miles, was waiting. Jimmy’s parents had passed while Jimmy was incarcerated, and they had left Miles the house. Miles, who was steadily employed and totally honest, had kept Jimmy’s room for him.

  Jimmy had spent a lot of time thinking about what he would do to Timothy Rankin when he got out. The morning after he was released, Jimmy waited for his brother to leave for work. As soon as the front door closed, Jimmy went to the shed in the backyard. The shed was used for storage. Jimmy had to move a sofa, several cartons, and an old vacuum cleaner before he found a gun and the cardboard box full of bullets. He’d hidden them six years before, after the failed armed robbery that had landed him in jail. The box was damp and the top melted off in Jimmy’s hand. He tossed it aside, loaded the handgun, and went looking for Timothy.