If Hooks Could Kill - By Betty Hechtman Page 0,111

the two cold cases I was working on.” I guiltily admitted that all I remembered was the murder book, but as he described the wealthy Northridge man they thought had been killed by his maid, who’d been stealing from him but who had never been charged due to lack of evidence, it started to come back to me. The second case involved the death of a liquor store employee in what they thought was a robbery gone bad. There was no suspect in the second case. “In the beginning I was just hoping to find some new evidence on the maid, but then I noticed a lamp had been taken in both cases. The first case had come with an insurance company description of it. It was an original Tiffany lamp and worth big bucks. In the second case the girlfriend knew a lamp with a leaded glass shade was gone, but didn’t know much about it. Could it have been the same lamp? A bunch of collectibles had been taken from the first case, including a valuable coin collection. As far as they could tell neither the most valuable coins in the collection nor the lamp had ever surfaced.” At first when I heard you talking about lamps and coins, I thought it was just coincidence, but then I began to wonder. I knew the wealthy guy liked to hang out with athletes. On a hunch, I took a photo of Stone with my phone and showed it to the maid. The maid recognized him as being one of the regulars at the wealthy guy’s endless parties. It turned out the victim of the other crime had a connection to the wealthy guy. The maid recognized his photo and said he’d delivered food and liquor for the parties. She was pretty sure the delivery guy sometimes ended up staying and joining the party.

“When I heard what was inscribed on the watch you found in the crochet stuff—the rich guy’s nickname was Squiggie—I started keeping an eye on Stone.”

Stone shook his legs and arms, trying to knock off the partying big black bugs.

“How about we make a deal,” Barry said. “I let you get up and you make it easy on all of us and tell me what happened.”

Stone said nothing. “He told me everything,” I said.

Barry let out a sigh. “I’m afraid it’s not the same.” He tried to make me feel better by putting his arm around me in a supportive gesture. I told him that the Rolex and coins were in my tote bag and he said he’d make sure they got it as evidence.

It didn’t take long for a bunch of cruisers to arrive, along with Detective Heather in her black Crown Vic. I’m not sure what was more upsetting for her—seeing Barry with his arm around me or having to admit I was right about the storage locker. I told her about the flaw in Stone’s alibi. She was not happy realizing she’d missed it. Then I was old news as she and Barry went off to the side and began to talk. Barry looked animated and she kept fiddling with her hair, fluttering her eyelashes and touching Barry’s arm in a possessive manner.

Oh, ick. Wasn’t there some rule about cops flirting with each other while on duty?

Detective Heather finally took my statement before waving me on my way. She and Barry were deep in conversation when I finally headed to the greenmobile.

* * *

They booked Stone on a whole lot of charges. For attempted murder of me, for the murder of his sister and for the murder of Barry’s two cold case victims. But there were all kinds of problems with the case. They knew by the casings that the same gun had been used in one of Barry’s cold cases and Kelly’s murder, but they didn’t have the gun. I told them what Stone had said about throwing it in the ocean, but it had no effect.

Barry was able to identify the leaded glass lamp they found in the storage locker as the authentic Tiffany that had been taken in cold case number one, but there was no way to prove that Stone had taken it. It was the same with the Rolex. They couldn’t even verify that the lamp, watch or the coins had been in the storage locker when it had been in Stone’s name.

Barry and Heather knew that Stone was involved in all three murders, but they didn’t have the