The Perfect Alibi (Robin Lockwood #2)(33)

“Do you have any more questions, Rex?” Dillon asked.

“Not now.”

“Have you given a statement already?” Dillon asked Norquist.

“Yes, to one of the officers.”

“Then why don’t you go home. You look pretty upset.”

“Thanks. I really don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.”

Kellerman, Anders, and Dillon talked to the other employees. They all said that the partners were the best of friends, and no one could think of anyone with a grudge against Nylander or Armstrong.

When they were through, Kellerman motioned the detectives into the hallway outside the law office. “Get names and addresses, then send everyone home,” the prosecutor said.

Dillon nodded.

“What do you think?” Kellerman asked. “Could Norquist have killed Nylander this morning when they were alone in the office?”

“I thought of that,” Dillon said, “but he’s a really good actor if that’s what happened.”

“So, who did kill Nylander?” Kellerman asked.

“My gut says it’s a robbery gone wrong,” Dillon said. “Nylander’s wallet, cell phone, watch, and keys are missing. I tried to have his secretary walk through the office to do an inventory, but she lasted two minutes before she ran to the ladies’ room. I’ll have her come back when the body is gone.

“What about Armstrong, Roger?” Kellerman asked. “He and Nylander were the only people in the office after the receptionist left.”

“I don’t know. Every person we talked to said they were best friends.”

Anders chimed in. “If I killed Nylander, I would have made the office look like it had been robbed. Then I would have gone to the party and pretended Nylander was fine when I left.”

“Carrie’s right,” Dillon said. “It doesn’t make sense for Armstrong to run away when he could have deflected suspicion by going to the party.”

“Maybe he panicked,” Kellerman said.

“That doesn’t fit the facts,” Anders said. “If Armstrong killed his partner, he was cool enough to wipe his prints off the murder weapon and mess up the office.”

“There is Blaine Hastings,” Dillon said. “He’s violent, he threatened Armstrong, and he’s out on bail.”

“Okay. Look, I’ve got a court appearance. Why don’t you two go to Armstrong’s house. Then talk to Hastings and Nylander’s wife. Let me know what you find out,” Kellerman said as he rang for the elevator.

Kellerman smiled as soon as the elevator doors closed. Wouldn’t it be great if Doug Armstrong killed his partner and he was the one who sent the wimp away? Rex’s smile widened as he pictured the suffering that would inflict on Marsha Armstrong. Just before the car arrived at the lobby, Kellerman remembered a phrase he thought was from the Bible. Something like, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


The Armstrongs lived in an early-twentieth-century Tudor home in Portland’s West Hills, one of the city’s premier residential areas. The house was close to the top of the hill and looked out across the city and the river to the mountains. The lawn was manicured, and there was a wide variety of flowers in the garden. Anders spotted rhododendrons, roses, tulips, and some other varieties she couldn’t name.

Anders figured the blond woman who answered the bell for her early thirties. Marsha Armstrong was wearing jeans and a man-tailored white shirt. She hadn’t bothered to put on makeup or jewelry, but she was still very attractive and she looked very worried.

“Mrs. Armstrong?” Anders asked.

“Yes. Are you the police?”

Anders nodded as she and Dillon showed Marsha their shields.

“Do you know where Doug is?” Marsha asked.

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Anders said.

“I can’t, and I’m very worried. This isn’t like him.”

“Do you mind if we come in?” Dillon asked.

“Yes, please. I’m sorry. I’m just upset.”

Armstrong’s wife led the detectives into a living room and gestured toward a sofa. The detectives sat. Marsha was stiff-backed, her hands clasped in her lap and her body rigid.

“Kate Monday called. She told me that Frank was murdered.”

“I’m afraid that’s true, and no one seems to know where your husband is,” Anders said. “When was the last time you saw him, or spoke to him?”

“I saw him on Sunday, when I drove him to the airport. He had a case in Seattle.”

“How did he seem?”

“Fine.”

“He wasn’t worried about anything?”

“No, the opposite. He was excited about how he thought the case would go.”

“When was the next time you spoke to him?”

“He called that evening from the hotel after he checked in.”

“Was there any change in his mood?”

“Not that I noticed. He was upbeat because he was certain that the case was going to settle to his client’s advantage. Then he called Monday night to tell me that everything was going the way he thought it would and he anticipated wrapping things up on Tuesday morning and flying back Tuesday afternoon, then taking a taxi to the office.”