Murder, Madness & Love (Detective Quaid Mysteries #1) Page 17

  “Then why didn’t he divorce her?”

  “He was going to. He’d started proceedings. You can ask his attorney, George Steiner. I have his address. He’ll tell you.” She went hurriedly to her desk to find his number. “I’ll even make the appointment. He lives just a few streets down. You go talk to George. He’ll set you straight.”

  Steven waited while she made the appointment. He wanted to resolve this mystery, and, if Mr. Steiner could help, he was willing to listen. The one name not on John’s list, Steven hoped this attorney would finally provide new evidence.

  Mr. Steiner could not see Steven until early the next morning, so Steven left the company of Mrs. Greenwald to go see Sarah’s doctor, Eliza Sanders. John gave him her name. It was nowhere in Terry’s report, but John had insisted Steven needed to speak with her. Steven had to assure Dr. Sanders his questions were official before she agreed to meet him.

  “I spoke to another gentleman about a month ago. He said he was gathering evidence to clear Sarah of any wrongdoing regarding her husband’s death. Sarah had given her permission for me to talk to him, and then, last week, Mr. Thomas called me and asked me to be candid with you too. Are you going to charge her?”

  Her direct manner impressed Steven. Doctor Sanders was a small woman, filled with tightly wound energy. She moved so quickly, he had to increase his pace to keep up with her. Now, sitting on the couch in her office, she didn’t seem able to relax, her body language conveying that she was a woman who resented wasting time.

  “I also want to clear Sarah of any suspicion in the death of her husband. The man you spoke to was a private investigator. The first police investigator didn’t turn over all the evidence he uncovered. I’m here because I want close the books. What can you tell me about Sarah and Michael Palmer?”

  She unfolded her arms, at ease now with the direction the questions were heading. “I’m only talking to you because Sarah gave her permission, and Mr. Thomas assured me it would free her from suspicion.”

  “I understand. How long have you known Sarah?”

  “I’ve been Sarah’s doctor for six years, and, a month before she married Michael, she came in for a physical, and we talked about her future.”

  Steven interrupted her. “I thought the marriage was sudden.”

  “Elopement, yes—unplanned, no. Michael asked her to marry him on Christmas, and they planned a Valentine’s Day wedding. They told only a few people, but they made elaborate plans. They were married in a church on the coast near Cliff House, where they honeymooned before their trip to Hawaii.”

  This contradicted the other statements referring to their marriage as sudden and unexpected. Steven was beginning to see how rumor and gossip had quickly become judge and jury. He couldn’t believe Terry would base his report on such nonsense.

  The doctor continued. “During her visit, we discussed the future, how many children they wanted. Sarah was happier than I’d ever seen her.”

  “You’re friends?”

  “Yes, I knew her through the charities we both support. Why do you ask? Do you think because we’re friends, I wouldn’t tell you the truth?” She frowned, concerned again.

  “No, of course not. It’s just for information purposes. You know a lot more about her personal life than most of the people I’ve talked with. Please continue.”

  “Yes, well, the next time I saw her professionally was one year later. Disappointed because she still wasn’t pregnant. I gave her the typical answer—be patient, relax, don’t stress. Then, after four months and still nothing, we did a more extensive examination and found that endometriosis had caused her infertility. Minor surgery was all she needed. The next time I saw her, in August, she was almost four months pregnant. She was ecstatic and couldn’t wait to tell Michael; the entire office was caught up in her happiness. Those are the days, the moments that make this job… well.”

  Dr. Sanders fidgeted, straightened her legs and then stood to walk across the room. She sighed deeply but continued. “Just hours later, I saw her in the emergency room. She was in shock over Michael’s death.”

  “Did shock cause the miscarriage?”

  “It’s possible, yes. Shock affects oxygen levels, blood flow, but endometriosis had already placed her at a higher risk. I believe the trouble she experienced before she came in was the root cause, while the shock was a catalyst. She’d had some odd symptoms, including pain. She wasn’t aware of the pregnancy because her cycle was erratic, and she’d experienced some bleeding. When she was in my office earlier, I admit I was worried even then that she wouldn’t make full term. I warned her of the risks, but no one can predict, and for Sarah, with those symptoms and that news… she never had a chance.”

  “I see.” Steven’s voice faltered. Even he was feeling an emotional reaction to Sarah’s loss.

  “Sarah had a hard time. She gave birth… what I mean is she had contractions, and went through delivery. It’s a horrible experience, to give birth that early. I admitted her, but Sarah has a real phobia about doctors and hospitals, and I should have known to keep a better eye on her, but she was gone. I got a call from a doctor on the coast the next day. He was treating Sarah for a severe fever. She had collapsed at home, and her housekeeper called him. Sarah never told him about the miscarriage. She was grieving. She needed a dilation and curettage, minor surgery, anyway, I flew out to the coast. I’m glad she’s finally getting her life together. Solve this mystery, please? She deserves justice.”

  “Why did Sarah keep the miscarriage a secret? She’s never mentioned it, even when asked directly why she didn’t attend the funeral.”

  “Grief. She couldn’t talk about it. She still doesn’t.”

  “I can understand her silence just after his death, but it’s been over a year. She still won’t defend herself.”

  “I don’t blame her; she’s been through a lot, and mostly due to malicious gossip. Sarah would never use her loss to save herself. Never. It’s not her style.”

  Dr. Sanders’ pager went off, and she had to excuse herself to deliver a baby. Steven left, feeling compassion for Sarah and with a little more understanding of her tenacity.

  His next visit was with Mr. Wilhelm Collier at Highland Hills Mortuary, another one of John’s suggestions, and not in Terry’s official file. Mr. Collier was a short, fat, balding man of fifty with a bubbly personality that would quickly turn somber when the occasion called for it. Steven liked him immediately. When Steven asked if he remembered Michael Palmer or his wife, Sarah, a shadow seemed to pass over the man. Steven saw deep sadness, though Collier tried to hide it by pretending interest in organizing the items on his bookshelf. Steven found his reaction unusual for a man so used to dealing with grief.

  “Do you recall meeting Mrs. Palmer?”

  “Of course. Please, have a seat.” He pointed to a chair in front of his desk, and once Steven complied, Mr. Collier sat too. “Such a gracious woman. It’s something I’ll never forget. I see an enormous amount of sorrow here, and usually I can deal with it—it’s my job—but with Mrs. Palmer, well, it’s hard to explain.”

  “Just tell me what happened.”

  “Mr. Kessler came in after the accident and took care of all the arrangements. I didn’t plan to have Mr. Palmer ready until the day of the wake. There was no embalming necessary, not for a quick cremation. When Mrs. Palmer came in, I wasn’t expecting her, and wasn’t ready. His body was lying on the slab, but that atmosphere is such a harsh experience for the loved one. I couldn’t let her see him like that, but she wasn’t leaving. Mr. Kessler arrived soon after, and he insisted that I get Mr. Palmer properly prepared and in a coffin. I did as the client asked. They had business to conduct, so it gave me a little time, and when I had him ready Mrs. Palmer wanted to be alone with her husband. She insisted that Mr. Kessler leave, and even though he was reluctant, she persisted. I don’t think anyone could’ve denied her.”

  “What was her demeanor?”

  “Honestly, I thought she was going
to collapse at any moment—she was so pale. She looked sick, but her eyes were dry, at first. The tears came later, when she was alone with Mr. Palmer.”

  “You stayed with her?”

  “I usually leave them alone to grieve, but I didn’t feel comfortable doing that with Mrs. Palmer. Every now and then, I would check on her. For the longest time, she just sat, staring at him, silent. You know, as if she expected him to wake up. She held his hand to her cheek, like her spirit spoke to his. At first, there were no tears, she just sat with him, and then she began talking. I should have left her alone, but I… I didn’t.” He twisted his hands, but finally undid his jacket and stuffed them in his generous pockets.

  He finished his story. “She shared her pregnancy with him, said that she’d had her suspicions, but she wanted a doctor’s confirmation. She thought this was going to be the best birthday ever. She apologized for not getting in the car with him. ‘I should’ve insisted you come with me,’ she’d said. ‘You would have seen the most beautiful sight’—her words. Then she said something odd, she said, ‘please take care of our little ones for me.’ Then the tears fell. The grief seemed to consume her. I knew she thought she was alone and free to open her heart, and I shouldn’t have intruded, but I was worried for her.”

  “How long did she stay?”

  “She was with him for over two hours. I had to ask her to leave. It’d gotten late. I thought she’d could come back the next day. But before she left, she made me promise to seal the coffin for the service. She wanted to make sure his body would not be shown, and she had two small packages she wanted cremated with him. She placed one in his right hand and the other near his left hand. I promised her it would be done. I closed the coffin and walked her to the door.”

  “A closed coffin? Why?”

  “Mr. Palmer had a broken neck, and no other external damage from the accident. He could have had a proper showing, but for that, embalming is required. But some folks don’t want that, and he didn’t. In fact, his aunt made a scene at the service because the casket was sealed. It was all part of his final wishes. But the aunt, she still made a fuss. I let her see his body, but just her. I knew Mrs. Palmer wouldn’t mind. Not with her being his only kin.”

  “What was in the package?” The sweat on Collier’s upper lip indicated to Steven that Collier knew.

  “Birthday presents that she never had the chance to give him. I never saw her again, but she sent me a thank you card. Most folks don’t, but she’s a thoughtful lady.”

  Collier impressed Steven with how hard he tried to sidestep the question, but he was not going to let him off the hook. “And?”

  Collier could not look at Steven. He got up, wiped his face with a hanky, and started pacing the room.

  He hesitated again, took a deep breath, and walked to a closet Inside sat a safe that he unlocked. “I had to open them, to make sure they would go through the cremation process. This wouldn’t, so I removed it, but the other one was cremated with him. He handed Steven a box.

  “I see.” Steven open the box to find a rattle—a silver antique baby’s rattle—tied with a pink ribbon engraved with the name Michelle and a blue ribbon engraved with the name Michael.

  “There was also a birthday card, a love letter to her husband and the sonogram. Those I cremated with him.”

  “What was in the second package?”

  “In all the years I’ve worked at this job, nothing has ever gotten to me like that.” He went to his desk and took out a clean hanky to blow his nose. “A small cardboard box with the tiniest little bodies. I think Dr. Sanders prepared them for her. There was a certificate with Dr. Sanders’ name on it, a birth and death certificate. I’m not sure, I barely looked at it, but I do know that doctors and hospitals show more sympathy now, when there’s a miscarriage. It’s so the parents can grieve proper. She lost her husband and two babies, Detective Quaid. Two tiny angels. Now I knew why she looked ill, because she was.” He blew his nose again.

  “Thank you, Mr. Collier. You’ve been exceptionally helpful.” Steven got up to leave.

  “Mr. Quaid, may I ask you something?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Is this young woman really considered a suspect in the death of her husband? If she is, I’ll get up in court and tell all. I don’t care the cost!”

  His outburst of support did not surprise Steven, because now he was also ready to defend her, no matter what the cost. “No, Mr. Collier, Sarah did not kill her husband, and it’s my job to prove it. Thank you.”

  Steven knew Sarah had not killed Michael, but, just like the evidence to convict her, the evidence to absolve her was circumstantial. He understood Terry’s reluctance to accept any of it, especially if Terry had never interviewed Sanders or Collier. Yet, he did not understand her inability to defend herself. Why doesn’t she fight back? She could clear her name altogether if she just tried.

  His appointment with Mr. Steiner nagged at him, but he knew if there was proof of a divorce filing, a grand jury investigation would come next. However, if it was true, Terry would have known.

  He went back to the hotel and was given a message from Sarah with her regrets for not being able to join him for dinner. Disappointed, but glad she was no longer with Chase, Steven ate alone and retired early.

  he next morning, he stood outside an impressive brick home. Mrs. Steiner answered his knock and ushered him into a cluttered room, where a small, thin man with thick eyeglasses was speaking on the telephone. Mr. Steiner finished his call, took off his glasses, and placed them on the desk in front of him. Then he picked them up again and began to clean them as he studied Steven. He did not speak, but motioned Steven to sit.

  Steven headed to the chair Steiner pointed to, but he could no longer remain silent.

  “Mr. Steiner, I’m not sure what I’m doing here. I’ve been questioning people for two days about Michael Palmer’s death. To be honest, I haven’t solved anything. Sarah clearly had nothing to do with it, even though several people believe strongly she did, including some members of the Seattle Police Department.” He settled heavily into the chair in front of Steiner’s desk.

  George Steiner had a strong, deep voice that contrasted sharply with his appearance. “Mr. Quaid, people are naturally suspicious. Sarah is a simple person with many wonderful qualities. Such attributes easily accepted, unless wealth and beauty are also in the mix. Many would claim Sarah has everything. I’m sure she counts her blessings as overflowing. Yet, what person in her shoes can claim to have the love and respect of all the people around her? If someone killed Michael, who gained from his death? Sarah’s the obvious choice from a monetary point of view, but look closely, detective. There are other reasons to murder.”

  Steven listened intently. For a moment, he thought George Steiner was going to name a suspect. “Then there was no threat of divorce?”

  “Heavens, no.”

  Steven exhaled as though he’d been holding his breath.

  “Netta Greenwald is a lonely old woman who lives in the past, and I mean the distant past. Every time you talk to her, she has a different story to tell. Netta has tried to hire several private investigators and always sends them to me, just like you. After we speak, they refuse to take the job, and Netta’s money is returned. The only truth she shared was how close Michael and I were: he was like family, the son I never had. Although Gerald Kessler was the corporate attorney and responsible for business matters, I handled items of a more personal nature, like Michael’s will. Michael was so in love with Sarah, that, when she agreed to marry him, he immediately had me write a new will, and there was no prenuptial agreement. Michael wouldn’t even consider it. He loved her. It’s that simple. Believe me, I was shocked at first, too, because before he met Sarah, Michael was the George Clooney of the business world. He was thirty-five years old, and I swore devoted to bachelorhood. He dated the most eligible women in the world, but, when he met Sarah, he couldn’t get her to the altar fast enough. I asked him once, before I met
her, what does she have none of those other women had. He said: when I look into her eyes, I see—”

  “Heaven,” Steven said, without thinking.

  Mr. Steiner looked at Steven over the top of his glasses, but went on with his story. “Nirvana. Michael said Nirvana. And he also claimed: ‘when I’m with her, nothing else matters.’ He was in love. And Sarah—she loved him, adored him, they made each other laugh, and were like two love sick kids when they were together. We enjoyed them. In the few years they were together, they grew even closer. Hell, Sarah got Michael to give up his cell phone, at least when they were together. After meeting her, when he left the office, he turned the thing off and learned to leave the work behind. She broke him of a severe technological addiction, and I never saw a man more thrilled with the results.”

  “Then why doesn’t Sarah defend herself?”

  “Against what? Gossip—jealousy? Sarah’s lived with the nonsense long enough to learn there’s no defense. Michael tried to halt the gossip once. His effort backfired. I’m sure you heard of the donation to charity.”

  Steven nodded.

  “All Michael’s idea. He thought if she went public with her contribution, everyone would look more generously upon her. Well, you’ve heard the result.”

  “And you just confirmed the rumors; Michael was at the bottom of it.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I just made a long story short. When Sarah received the five-million-dollar inheritance from her grandfather—yes, she had a grandfather, a very rich man who left her his entire estate even though he’d only met her once, at his son’s funeral. She asked me to donate ten percent to her favorite charities, anonymously. Michael insisted she go public. They stood right over there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “and argued about it. Michael tried to convince her everyone would look favorably on her. He wanted to stop some of the ‘gold digger’ gossip. Sarah stood her ground. Michael played on her emotions, accusing her of not trusting his judgment. She gave in. The money got to the charities and the newspapers wrote their report, all for nothing. The rumors got worse. Michael never again tried to sway public opinion.”