Millstone - Novel 01 Ch. 09

"And people have signed that?"

"They all signed it," he said, "including Tommy. For some men, they take one look at the size of my meat, and they run, while for others, I could tell them that I would literally tear them a new asshole, and they'll do anything to experience it.

"As for Chadwell, he had a thing for me (more like a stalker really), but he only wanted to blow me, and I ain't into it, so we never had sex; you can tell that just by looking at his asshole. So, while I may not have an alibi, and these Chinese finger traps are my handiwork, I have no motive to kill either of them. And when I fucked guys in Seattle, they kept the finger trap as a memento, but I also gave plenty of those away."

"Chadwell stalked you?" I asked.

"Just like some weirdos do celebrities. Whenever we worked removals together, he would offer to blow me on break, but I would always turn him down. He fawned over me at work, and he tried to buy me coffee and lunch nearly every day. The witnesses to all that are hip deep. He did other more stalker-like things, but I have no witnesses for that."

"Did he know about you and Tommy?" Max asked.

"Yeah. He hadn't liked it and was pretty vocal about it. I'm sure some of the guys at work knew. He acted like we had a relationship, but I don't have relationships; I have regulars. He recently asked me to move in with him once he got to his new place, and I turned that down too. I've had only one regular while I've lived here, and he was okay, but Tommy and I were perfect together; I could hurt him, and he begged for more. Guys like that just don't come along every day."

"Did you say Chadwell was moving?" I asked.

"Yeah, he gave me some bullshit about moving across the bay to the Carlton at the corner of Cheddar and Brie, but that's a high-end apartment dwelling; I knew he couldn't afford that. So, while I thought he was nuts, I knew better than to tell a stalker he's crazy."

A knock came upon the door of the interview room. It was Edgerton, and he called us out to talk to us. He brought us to the conference room, leaving Malor behind.

"I have the full pathology report," he said. "This was found inside Chadwell's stomach." He placed on the table an evidence bag with an engagement ring inside. Max picked it up to examine it. "The report says you're holding a platinum ring with a five-carat princess-cut red diamond. Due to its characteristics, it's probably worth well over 2 million dollars today."

"One guess where this came from," said Max.

"It has to be the Thornbrier mansion," I said. "Looks like a good motive to me. Most likely, pilfered during the removals process."

Max dangled the baggie. "This astonishes me; they really had left everything, hadn't they?"

"There were various prints at the crime scene, most of them match Chadwell, but they're getting the prints of the owner for elimination purposes; none of them match Malor or Tommy. The trinket box had some smudged prints, but they appear to match Chadwell. From that alone, I think our killer wore gloves."

"No match for the unknown print on the finger traps?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, no, they could be the killers, but they don't match any found anywhere else, and they're not on file."

"And Tommy's place wasn't searched by the killer?" I asked.

Edgerton shook his head. "Scarborough would have noticed, and the place looked neat and tidy to me."

"I don't think Malor did it," I said.

"Let me hear your theory," said the detective.

"Anyone cautious enough to get a prospective sexual partner to sign a waiver before sex isn't likely to use finger traps that they made to kill anyone and then leave prints on them. Besides, I believe him about Tommy. I can't pretend to understand it, but just because something sounds crazy doesn't make it morally wrong. Like he said, he's forthright about it, and the people involved are of consenting age."

Max laid the bag on the table. "It sounds more like someone trying really hard to incriminate Malor."

"Speaking of those waivers," said Edgerton, "Malor has no priors, but he did have some trouble in Seattle. He was the defendant in a wrongful-death civil suit..."--he searched through Malor's file--"...over the suicide of a man named Daniel Newberry. Apparently, the waiver and his witnesses kept him from owing a lot of money because he won."

"That can't be a coincidence," I said. "Who was the plaintiff?"

"Daniel's sister, Grace Newberry. The trial took place three and a half years ago."

"Malor told us he worked the beginning of the Thornbrier mansion's relocation three years ago," said Max, "so he must have moved to Franklin just after the trial. What will we do now? Should we just start taking the fingerprints of everyone to see who matches the unknown prints on the trap?"

"That would only scare off the killer," I said to Max, "and I suspect, if we could, we might discover the prints are Daniel Newberry's."--I picked up the evidence bag, held the ring at eye level, and stared into that red diamond, thinking of the allure of such an item--"I think this ring is the key to finding our killer."