Sleight of Hand - By Phillip Margolin Page 0,53

and I want to see if it pans out.”

Robb was parked on the side of the road next to the gate to the Blair estate. Santoro parked behind her. Sitting beside Robb was Wilda Parks, a feisty woman in her early sixties who had been working in the crime lab since well before Santoro joined the force. Santoro walked over to Robb’s car. She rolled down the window.

“Why are we here?” Santoro asked.

“Wilda found Horace Blair’s prints on the key from the grave.”

“So?”

Parks was holding three plastic evidence bags in her lap. Robb pointed to one bag which held a single key.

“That’s the key we found in the grave,” she said.

She pointed to another bag which held a key ring with several keys.

“That’s the key ring we found in the purse that was buried with Carrie Blair.

“And these,” she said, pointing to the third bag, “are the keys we took from Horace Blair when he was booked into the jail.”

Santoro looked confused. “What are you going to do with these keys?”

“There is a key on Carrie Blair’s key ring that looks exactly like the key we found in the grave. What if they both open a specific door in the Blair house but none of Horace’s keys open that door?”

“You think Blair dropped the key in the grave by accident?” Santoro asked.

“It’s possible. If he buried Carrie at night he might not have noticed.”

Santoro pointed to a key on Horace Blair’s key ring. “That key looks exactly like the key we found in the grave.”

Robb shrugged. “I could be wrong. If I am, we wasted a trip out here. Hop in and let’s see what happens.”

Robb pressed the button on an intercom attached to the wall next to the gate. Moments later, Walter Paget, Blair’s houseman, answered. Robb identified herself and asked to be admitted to the estate.

“I can’t let you in without Mr. Blair’s permission.”

“Actually, we don’t need his permission, Walter. I have a search warrant that authorizes me to enter the grounds. If you don’t open this gate right now, I’m going to arrest you for obstruction of justice, your choice.”

The houseman was silent. Robb waited patiently. Moments later, the gate opened and Robb drove up the driveway to the front door. Walter was waiting for them.

“Thanks for letting us in,” Robb said as she showed him the search warrant.

“How can I help you?” Walter asked in a tone that could only be described as frosty.

“We want to see if a few keys fit any of the doors in the house,” Robb answered.

“What doors?”

“We’re not certain but we might as well start with the front door,” she said. “Can you close it and lock it for us, please?”

Paget hesitated for a moment before stepping inside and closing the door. Robb took the key that had been found in the grave out of the evidence bag and Parks began filming the proceedings.

Robb held up the key. “I am Lee County detective Stephanie Robb and I’m standing at the front door of Horace Blair’s house. This is a key that was found in the grave where Carrie Blair’s body was discovered. The crime lab found prints matched to Horace Blair on this key. I am going to insert it in the front door of Horace Blair’s home.”

Robb bent down and inserted the key in the front door lock while continuing to describe what she was doing for the camera. She twisted the key and opened the front door. Parks caught the expression of surprise on the detective’s face. Obviously Robb never thought it would be this easy.

Robb put the key back and removed the keys found in Carrie Blair’s purse. She selected the key that looked identical to the key found in the grave and identified it for the camera. Then she put it in the lock and opened the front door. Finally, Robb took out the keys on Horace Blair’s key ring and tried the key that looked like the key found in the grave. It looked newer than the key from the grave and the key found in Carrie Blair’s purse. Santoro frowned as Robb tried the key. It did not open the front door. Robb tried every other key on the chain. None of them opened the front door.

Robb told Parks to stop filming. Then she smiled. “We got him. Blair fucked up.”

“That’s what it looks like,” Santoro agreed, but he didn’t sound completely convinced. Robb was too excited to notice.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Three days in jail had done

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