episode one
episode two
episode three
episode four
episode five
Book Two
Episode Six
During the drive to police headquarters with Mickey Stone at the wheel, the conversation between Nathan March and Lieutenant Peter Ryan never lagged for any length of time.
“Tell me Nathan, since the killer or killers has Collette’s laptop with all the comments she typed in on it as well as hard copy of Lena’s Master list which identifies Collette’s clients, then why the threatening call to Reggie to turn over the SD cards when they contain information the culprit already has?” asked Peter.
“First of all, only one threat demanding them was ever issued. My thinking tells me that whoever left the lone threat in a phone message somehow learned the location of the SD Cards shortly afterwards and then got busy designing a simple and effective plan to retrieve them, which has now been accomplished.
“It would only take one to contain all the information Collette could ever possibly want to store about each client. The drives are very small and could easily be hidden safely in many ingenious places for easy access, that’s why a safety deposit box at a good distance away didn’t make any sense to me, it’s so inconvenient. That is until I thought Collette could have decided to use a different card for each session she held with a client that would mean dozens of them existed. Maybe because these particular cards contained her client’s past regrets in their own voices for them to hear she needed a safety deposit box in an extremely well-protected bank to stay in business,” said Nathan.
“I get it boss. She wanted money so she sent her clients an audio sample of a counseling session that way they couldn’t deny that the secrets contained on Micro SD Cards were all true,” said Mickey.
“Correct then she threatened to go public with their darkest secrets unless each client paid a monthly fee to her,” said Nathan.
“Now that makes me sick Nathan knowing that whoever killed her and the others has all the information needed to continue fleecing Collette’s clients for decades to come,” said Peter thinking some very dark thoughts about Collette’s anonymous and unintended protege.
At police headquarters Aaron Coulter, the TSU officer, took possession of Lena Phelp’s computer from Mickey and assured Lieutenant Ryan and Nathan that he’d do his best to get some answers.
He also reported that the Palm Beach bank agreed that since forgery and theft were suspected within their Safety Deposit Box area, they would email a copy of the Sign-In page in question. It would have to be after the bank closed to the public today, so that the Sign-In Book remained available to any incoming bank customers to sign during normal banking hours.
Regarding sharing the video, due to privacy issues that portion of the video matching the time and date of the impersonation of Collette Dickenson needed to be photographed by a still camera. This was necessary in order to avoid capturing other images accidentally caught in the background of the video such as customers entering and leaving the Safety Deposit Box reception area. Therefore it would take more time before the TSU in Atlanta would receive these photos.
“Why do I have the feeling that we should have sent Nathan down to the Palm Beach Bank and put him in touch with the highest ranking female in the place,” said Peter
“Yeah, that way, we’d already be done viewing both the video and the sign-in sheet already,” said Mickey to a smirking Peter Ryan as both men noticed the attention the female officers constantly paid to Nathan.
“I was more than a little offended that no one suggested it,” said Nathan smiling as his cell phone went off.
“Nathan March here,” he said into the phone.
“Nathan, I need to inform you that Lena’s done it again,” said Martin.
“Such intimate news to share with me,” said Nathan laughing.
“I think you’ll agree that it’s great news. Lena and I sat discussing who or how many of Collette’s trusting clients we believed she was currently blackmailing and we went to the library to find her files to help us make an educated guess that we could present to you and Detective Ryan.
“Nathan in a file marked “Miscellaneous” which is always placed first in the file cabinet, Lena found a bank book and bank statements from Fidelity Bank in the Cayman Islands. None of this information was there before or Lena would have noticed it,” said Martin.
“Looks like Collette wanted them found after her suicide,” said Nathan.
“For sure, said Martin. There were six money transfers deposited into that account each month and that’s not all. First of all the six deposits each month were not for the same amount and most importantly at the top of one statement in Collette’s own handwriting were six Roma words which we believe identifies those she’s currently blackmailing,” said Martin triumphantly.
“Well butter my buns and call me a biscuit,” said a smiling Nathan.
“Lena’s already translated those words,” said Martin.
“We’re on our way to you both right now,” said Nathan knowing he had reason to feel elated.
Peter’s expression gave Nathan proof that his friend was still not clear on Lena’s filing system and when Peter confirmed his confusion Nathan explained once again.
“No names were used on any of Collette’s client files so that no one could identify them or their scheduled appointments. Instead Lena used her ancestor’s Roma language selecting a descriptive word to affix to each file. It’s the Master list that cross-referenced the Roma word, with the client’s actual name,” said Nathan.
“Reminds me of the story of the “Wind Talkers”, you know those Native American soldiers from WWII who learned a military code and trained non-Indian solders how to pass those codes over walkie-talkies using the Navaho language. After intercepting our troop movements and plans because so many of them spoke perfect English when all communications were in code spoken in Navaho the Japanese no longer had the upper hand,” said Mickey.
“You‘re right Mickey, in fact Lena told me that her Roma ancestors are still considered the Native Americans of Europe,” said Nathan.
“So Collette a cleverly hidden Digital Voice Recorder to record everything said in her office, during her supposedly totally private appointments,” said Peter.
“I’m certain you’re right. Even after Mayhill bailed her out with her more outraged clients ready to take her to court or worse, Collette continued her shenanigans. I’m sure she slowly compiled a fortune which she has now left to a daughter who can barely utter the title mother without become physically ill,” said Mickey.
According to Lt. Matthew Browne some days produced a rainbow and others just a spooky thunderstorm, and today produced a thunderstorm. Even with plenty of blood evidence, and an undisturbed partial plam print from the metal door, the Crime Lab produced no DNA matches. It was hard for the Atlanta Fire Department’s Chief Arson Investigator to accept that the arsonist from Rutgers Avenue was not in the system, a fact he knew did happen sometimes. In fact 20% of the time serious crimes such as arson, are committed by a first time perp with absolutely no record of wrong doing to form a trail to follow.
Luckily because the arson was connected to a major murder case the next comparisons would be against civilian medical data bases connected to each community such as schools and colleges, hospitals, military bases, etc., and therefore the DNA results along with the blood samples would remain available, until a match was obtained.
On arriving at the mansion, all three men learned that just as Martin had stated, Collette’s own handwriting at the top of a very thorough bank statement from Fidelity Bank of the Cayman Islands, simply listed six words that read: Karò, Machàri, Maslìnka, Phovà, Saskyarav, and Temenòoga.
Reading Lena’s notes, Detective Peter Ryan read the English translation of all six Roma words “Karò means thorn, Machàri means fisherman, Maslìnka means black olive, Phovà means eyebrow, Saskyarav means to heal and Temenòoga means violet.
Looking at Martin and Lena’s pleased expressions Mickey said “It looks like we should leave these two together more often.”
“I must admit I’d never suspect Collette of using the ROMA word I used on their hardcopy files to conceal the name of her victims, but that’s what she was doing I believe,” said Lena.
“Martin you must never leave me alone with this woman or you will regret it for years to come,” said Nathan embracing Lena tightly.
“Sorry Nathan, but the lady’s already making plans to redecorate my home, when she moves in after this mess is over,” said Martin.
“Well then as interested parties we insist on a proper engagement ring for the lady Mr. Dickenson, we can’t have her reputation sullied,’” said Nathan truly happy for them both.’
“Do you still have the one I returned,” said Lena as she stepped away from Nathan’s embrace and faced Martin.
“No, I realized I never should have asked you to marry me then, while I was still reeling from the news Armand was moving in with Collette. You were the smart one in that situation,” said Martin.
“Gentlemen, that day when I returned his diamond, I told him that when I saw the look in his eyes that a man in love with a woman should have there, then and only then would I say “Yes”. He was wearing that look in his eyes when he arrived here today, so fat chance of him getting loose ever again,” said Lena now hugging Martin tenderly.
Before finding the true identities of the six blackmail victims could be discussed in depth, the Nathan, and the four others needed to attend the Mayhill memorial service at the First Methodist Church where Brenda Mayhill put together the most dignified funeral ceremony any of them had ever attended.
The silver urn containing Mayhill‘s ashes sat on a marble podium in the middle of the altar surrounded by more flowers than are present at most weddings. Music was provided by the well-known thirty-person church choir and it truly sent chills up the spines of everyone who heard them sing “Soon and Very Soon We Are Going to See The King,” until no one could stop a tear from falling.
There were four who eulogized Attorney Mayhill. A young freshman at the University of Atlanta who owed his scholarship to the man who never missed a Wednesday with him all through his high school days. Jason Tilly could barely see for the tears he shed as he spoke.
Next his partners spoke. Glen Harding said that Doug was his teacher, mentor and the main person he turned to when his son was killed overseas. He told how Doug sat with him the entire night and simply cried with him until neither man could shut their own eyes they were so swollen. Walking with you through something like that he told the mourners, takes a true friend.
Michael Dwyer said that whenever he came back from court feeling beaten down because he lost a case, it was Doug who would remind him of how many strikes occurred before the best of them sent a baseball out of the park. He said he felt like he’d struck out more than he’d won, but Doug would always say “we’ll get’em next time,” said Dwyer choking on his tears.
Brenda Mayhill stood in the middle of the church to deliver her eulogy of her husband. Her tone of voice was steady as she described years of sharing the parenting chores with her husband and saying how much Doug loved his children.
She talked of her anxiety about attending company sponsored events and dinner parties with his friends and coworkers. Doug would tell her that she was the smartest most well-read woman he’d ever known and somewhere in her head she would find something enjoyable to discuss with each person she met at any occasion. And because he always sat smiling into her face, she said she always did.
He was, she said, her reason to keep growing and challenging herself to change fixed opinions she held, because she wanted him to be proud of her ability to always take one more look at any situation.
She finished saying, passion had its place in a marriage, patience and kindness had their place as well, but it was his support for all she considered important that was her husband’s greatest legacy to her.
It was Lena Phelps who found Brenda before she left for the airport and her trip to Canada. Standing outside her limousine, Brenda Mayhill was embraced tightly by Lena. “Wherever you go, whatever you chose to do with your life, promise me you will remember that as great a man as Douglas Mayhill was, you and his children gave him the respectability and dignity he cherished above all else. He told me that many times over the years,” said Lena to her good friend’s widow.
“I promise to remember that, thank you Lena,” said Brenda.
Scattering Doug’s ashes was accomplished by his son and daughter who dispersed them from a helicopter, which from a great height, delivered them safely to the ground minutes later. Hundreds of guests headed back inside the Tudor home to share some refreshments and say a proper farewell to the Mayhill family.
Brenda Mayhill however had avoided the fly over with her children‘s blessings. With guests busy watching the helicopter, an airport limousine arrived without detection and while she took a seat in the rear, the driver loaded her luggage. Driving past crowds of her late husband’s friends, she headed for Atlanta’s airport for her flight to Canada where her new life was waiting for her.
Nathan didn’t miss her departure which he witnessed while Mickey was getting reacquainted with Amanda Newman, Attorney Mayhill’s former intern. Sitting in the rear of the limousine, the look on Brenda Mayhill’s face as she kept glancing backwards toward the home she’d known for years, told Nathan that had Collette not involved Douglas Mayhill in her own sick scheme, at the very least Brenda would have remained Douglas’ greatest admirer and friend for years to come.
The stone cottage he had occupied now for two weeks, felt particularly comfortable that night as Nathan sat by the fireplace watching the flames lick the wood he’d placed there as he enjoyed a glass of blackberry Merlot and allowed himself to get lost in thought.
He’d learned that Troy Holden’s body had arrived back in Gainesville, Florida the day before. Today he too was buried after a family funeral that wasn’t nearly as grand as the Mayhill‘s were able to put together for Douglas Mayhill.
The bodies of Jenny Hart and her sister Pamela underwent full autopsies despite their condition. Their family consisted of a mother who at forty-seven was permanently placed in a nursing home suffering from cirrhosis and diabetes and not expected to see forty-eight.
Their only other sibling, was a brother in the military serving in Afghanistan who wasn't planning on coming home. He asked that their ashes be buried with his father in Atlanta. The Red Cross offered to raise the money to pay for their modest burial, but when he heard about it, Nathan offered to pay for their burial as well as a new and beautifully carved headstone, where there was none at the moment. From Afghanistan, Benjamin Hart’s words of thanks on Nathan’s cell phone just minutes earlier, reminded him of how good it feels to do a kindness.
Mickey and Reggie had stop arguing and instead were watching a movie together in her quarters which pleased Nathan who was aware that the two after a very rough start, had truly become friends.
The lovers Lena and Martin, were sharing her quarters together tonight as Lena was feeling quite blue and melancholy and Martin had the excuse he needed for bedding down with her again, after all the years they’d let slip by.
Hopefully Peter Ryan would trust himself to do as Nathan suggested, and put the case in his subordinate’s care for the night, while he spent time with his family. Experience now told Nathan that this peace he was feeling, this break in the action, was only temporary. They had a lot of answers to some troubling questions, but just as they were resolved Nathan knew not to celebrate even just a bit, because tough new questions were bound to continue surfacing as well.
In the morning it was clear to Detective Ryan that although the Atlanta Police Department’s upper echelon were itching for this case to be closed, his immediate superior couldn’t find one area of the investigation that wasn’t being handled to perfection. Peter had the evidence looked at more than once by different agencies and none of them had a complaint with his methodology.
Although the body count was five and the crimes like breaking and entering, arson, blackmail, and murder were reasons to complain, the pressure from the police brass wasn’t as bad as it could be, yet.
In a tiny Atlanta apartment Armand Oulette continued making love to his partner until they both collapsed after being rewarded for their mutual efforts. In his time at the estate he had bedded many lovers right under Collette’s nose more than once, but twenty-year old Trudy Dobbs, a maid at the estate, was the best lover he’d ever had. Her head may have been as empty as the fish tank was at the moment, but she loved him and did anything he requested..
“We need to talk lover,” said Trudy smiling up into Armand’s face.
“Try to remember I’m not here to talk with you,” he said.
“Oh Armand stop please, we need to talk,” said Trudy using both hands at both sides of his head to gain his attention.
“Please Trudy never do that again, or I will be taking my leave and never return,” said a very angry Armand.
Trudy’s two-room apartment was immaculate and had recently become Armand’s home away from home, when he was forced to take leave of his residence at the Dickenson estate.
With plans for the day getting his attention, Armand showered while Trudy began preparing breakfast mentally busy with thoughts of her own about how to tell Armand, what she considered to be such exciting news. She knew he’d fuss at first, but then he’d accept what she had to say and consider moving in with her until they could afford something better.
By 9:45AM breakfast was eaten, dishes were washed, and then it happened, Trudy became sick enough to vomit again. This time Armand wasn’t convinced that it was a result of her spring-time allergies.
“Tell me you’re not pregnant Trudy” he said showing no emotion whatsoever.
“I can’t honey, I’m nearly three months along,” she answered honestly looking happy as she spoke.
“Is it mine?” he asked callously.
“How can you even ask me that?” said Trudy now nearly in a stupor of disbelief.
“Get rid of it, and let me know when you do, because until then I won’t be putting one foot back here,” said Armand.
Trudy simply sat down crying softly.
“Trudy never attempt that again. I have no use for children or for a woman who uses them to trap me. I made all of that clear to you beforehand. So, tell me now that you will be getting rid of it and you will be far more careful in the future or forget me,” he added.
Trudy knew she would do what he asked, because she didn’t want to let him go. She’d shared him with other women, in fact she’d shared everything she had with him even her $2,500.00 inheritance from Collette, so if ending her pregnancy was another way of proving her love for him, she‘d do it.
“I thought with Collette gone, you might come to realize how good I am for you and you’d get excited about being a father to our child. I would never trap you Armand,” she said as she lifted her cell phone and then punched in the number given to her by Directory Assistance.
“Good morning, I’m calling for an appointment as soon as possible,” she said into the phone as Armand patted her bottom and left her alone to make the arrangements.
It was eleven o’clock in the morning when Armand left the hair designer’s shop after getting a manicure, shampoo and haircut. The car following him as he drove to his spa for a workout could have been any number of husband’s or detectives who’d finally located him, and that thought made him laugh initially.
Any humor in his situation lasted only minutes, when even his best tactics guaranteed to lose a car in pursuit, didn’t work. As he pulled into a parking spot in the large shopping area, he parked his car and slid down in his seat. However, the sedan’s occupant driving slowly was reading license plates, and easily identified Armand’s car. A car parked in front of it while a mother adjusted her child’s safety seat, blocking escape because the car following him, had parked at its rear.
There in one of Atlanta’s oldest shopping centers, in broad daylight with people in cars coming and going, Armand Oulette received a bullet to his head and heart, too fast to even whimper. Afterwards his cell phone rang from time to time but no one became curious, until blood running out from under the driver’s side door created a red puddle, too big to be ignored.
A very conflicted Trudy Dobbs left the abortion clinic where she had obtained a noontime appointment for an abortion. At first she was so disgusted with herself that she couldn't even cry. In the bright light of day, after balancing Armand’s very conditional love for her against taking the life of the child she wanted so very badly, Armand lost. It took getting this close to doing something she felt she’d regret for the rest of her life, to figure that out.
With her part-time job at the estate almost ended, she had been invited to move in with her Aunt Diane and finish hair design school but Armand threatened to stop seeing her if she didn’t have her own place. Working part time for her Aunt Diane at her beauty shop doing shampoos and sweeping floors was fine with Trudy and because her aunt had put her on a health plan two years ago, her pregnancy would be covered. Motherhood was doable because when she was a licensed beautician, she would be able to support herself and her child for sure and maybe even repay her aunt for her kindness.
Hugging her tummy she allowed herself to smile, certain she’d made the right choice for herself, and now she finally began to bond with the child she would be connected to for the rest of her life. Out loud she repeated the words “I love you little one, we’ll be okay,” over and over again.
She knew Armand would not check back with her, his belongings never left the trunk of his car and there were just too many women in his life. Neither would she be calling him again. Instead she’d wait for six months and then at least she’d be first in her baby’s life.
At the police station Laurie Gibbs continued to make Nathan feel more than a little uncomfortable with her gestures and lengthy glances in his direction. An excellent police officer with a very big intellect, Laurie really was of great assistance now that she was assigned full time to the case. It was Laurie who brought the chalk board into the room where they gathered and it was Laurie who printed out the six Roma words large enough so that Peter, Nathan, and Mickey could make use of a few gut feelings of their own.
The chalk board also contained the words thorn, fisherman, black olive, eyebrow, healer and finally violet.
A copy of the Master File of Collette’s clients was not retrievable by Officer Coulter of the TSU at Atlanta’s Police Department because the hard drive was too badly demolished to retrieve anything but corrupted files.
Nathan gazed intently at the chalk board now allowing a memory to take shape in his mind. “If I remember correctly a man by the name Adam Rose introduced himself to me at Collette’s funeral as her oldest client. He said he often called her for advice, and that to Collette he was a ‘thorn’ in her side,” said Nathan.
“With all his riding stables Mr. Adam Rose of horse-racing fame, sure would be a great one to blackmail. Why I’ll bet the guy loans money to God,” said Mickey.
“Violet that word keeps chiming in my head,” said Nathan.
“Yeah that’s the lady who kept drooling over you while they lowered Collette into her burial plot. Reggie told you that her name was Violet Watkins who launched all those Watkins Women to sell her cosmetics starting years ago and made herself a multi-millionaire many times over,” said Mickey.
“You’re right. Reggie said that the lady has assets that total more than some smaller nation’s treasuries,” said Nathan.
Printing the name Adam Rose beside the word “thorn” and Violet Watkins beside the word “Violet“, Laurie encouraged the men to go back to the remaining words, just as Nathan’s cell phone rang.
“Nathan March here,” he answered.
“Good afternoon Lena, I was just thinking of you. Now, now Martin it’s not nice to listen in on her private conversations,” said Nathan with a chuckle.
“We called hoping to assist you,” said Martin.
“In all honesty we could use help with the name of a client of Collette’s whose identity is tied to the Roma word for “fisherman” said Nathan.
“That’s the name we were calling to give you, Congressman Fisher’s mother Grace was a client of Collette‘s,” said Martin.
Lena now took the phone from Martin asking him to make them tea as she sat with her telephone and explained to Nathan that Andrew Fisher was a candidate for Congress, financing his campaign with his own money.
Nathan learned from Lena that in Atlanta the Fisher family was comparable to the Kennedy’s of Massachusetts or the Bush family of Maine and Texas, in the popularity they enjoyed in their home states and beyond.
“That means that Andrew Fisher’s family would probably pay a great deal to keep a scandal from sinking his political chances for re-election,” said Nathan as Laurie Gibbs wrote his name beside the word fisherman.
“Care to try another word,” said Nathan feeling like an ogre.
When Lena said she was willing to try Nathan said “What about the words “black olive?” he asked.
Before Lena could answer Nathan was interrupted. “Excuse me Nathan, Detective Ryan asked if there more names to add to the two to share with the others in his meeting upstairs?” asked Laurie Gibbs.
As Nathan printed Congressman Andrew Fisher’s name on the chalk board by the word “fisherman” Laurie copied it and headed upstairs.
“Lena you’ve put another name in our hands that Detective Ryan is going to give to his people in a meeting going on right now. Now they can track down every bit of information on those three individuals. So you see we are making headway,” said Nathan to comfort her.
“One moment Nathan, “eyebrow” it just came to me that has got to be a man named Colin Darcy. He had the habit of raising his left eyebrow when he talked and it tickled Colette. He’s a very handsome guy and a big media personality. He and Colette were lovers for a while until she broke it off and she stopped taking his calls afterwards,” said Lena.
“You need to drink this hot tea and relax a bit. The rest will come to you,” said Martin handing her a hot cup of tea.
“He’s right Lena, go and get some rest,” said Nathan.
“Tea sound great,” said Lena handing the phone to Martin.
“She’ll do better after some down time,” said Martin.
“Detective Ryan’s got four names now. The words “black olive,” seemed to have stumped her and I believe it’s because she’s exhausted,” said Nathan.
“Black olive, oh God you have to mean Jeremy, Jeremy Pitt. Now there was a client that scared Collette plenty years ago while we were still married.
“He and his wife Estelle were on the top of her guest list at each and every dinner party we threw for several years.
“When that man called Collette, she stood at attention I promise you. Months before he died, she told me that he was angry with her over one of their sessions, and he told her that he could take another psychic and bring them the notoriety he’d helped her to achieve anytime he wished. When he died she was so relieved. Sometime after his funeral she and Jeremy’s wife became best friends and I’ll tell you, I could never figure out one thing that those two had in common,” said Martin.
Nathan smiled and said, “How about blackmail?”
“Right you are my friend, so now it’s one to go,” said Martin.
When TSU officer Aaron Coulter joined the meeting which Detective Ryan hosted for those working the Dickenson case, he was happy to produce eight sets of copies of the still photos electronically sent to the APD of the person signing in at the Palm Beach bank’s Safety Deposit Reception desk as Collette Dickenson.
Although similar in hair color and very slim body type, no one knowing the real Collette would take this woman for her, wearing sunglasses or not. It was her signature forging Collette’s name that gained her access to the safety deposit box which she later emptied leaving nothing to go on. However no fault could be assigned to anyone at the bank as the signature card and the signature on the Sign-In Log for that day, did appear to be identical and the woman pretending to be Collette had a copy of the Safety Deposit Key as well.
None of it made Peter’s day, however officer Coulter’s most recent information did make him grateful to the TSU for making his investigation a very thorough one as he was sure Nathan and the APD’s top brass would agree.