Deception (A Miranda Murphy Thriller) (2 page)

“Maybe that’s Jeff’s buddy. Are you positive you’ve never seen this guy before? Take a closer look.”

Harris leaned over the corpse’s face and a few moments later said, “No, I don’t recognize him.”

Miranda had a feeling she would hear the same answer from Jeff’s girlfriend.

6.

After the body identification, Miranda took Harris to Hackett’s house. The foul smell still lingered in the living room but was tolerable. Harris carefully surveyed both bedrooms, the living room, and the kitchen, and said that he was unsure if anything theft-worthy was missing.

“You should ask Gabi,” he said. “She spends more time at Jeff’s place than I do.”

An hour later Miranda met Gabi Mornell. She turned out to be a young athletic green-eyed blonde, who worked in a marketing department of a major Boston real estate management company. She had known Hackett for ten months. Miranda showed her the photo of the man whose body they had found in Hackett’s house. His speculation proved correct: Gabi couldn’t recognize the victim.

“Does Jeff keep large amounts of cash at home?” Miranda asked when they entered Hackett’s house.

Gabi shrugged. “He has a bank account and credit cards. I doubt he keeps a lot of cash at home.” 

“There are a number of reasons for a businessman to have cash close by.”

“I never saw more than a thousand dollars in cash in his house. I don’t know if it counts as a large amount.”

“What about jewelry?”

“I know Jeff has a Rolex watch, a diamond ring, and a gold bracelet.”

“Do you have the keys to Hackett’s house?”

“No. We’re not at that stage yet.”

After touring the house, Gabi announced that nothing of value appeared to have been stolen.

7.

Okay, let’s summarize.

First, the victim was not Jeff Hackett. Second, the victim had driven—or at least sat in—Hackett’s BMW: they had found his fingerprints on the steering wheel of the car. Third, one could safely assume that Jeff Hackett had gone missing. Fourth, it wasn’t clear what had been stolen from Hackett’s house (provided they were dealing with a burglary). The bank records showed that Hackett had withdrawn a thousand dollars in the last month, which gave Miranda a rough idea of how much cash Hackett could have had at home when Flynn had been there. It was hard to imagine a thief who would be satisfied with one or two thousand bucks after committing murder.

According to Harris, Hackett had no debts and no love problems. In short, things were fine in Hackett’s life.

“All I can say is he’s never complained to me,” Harris said.

What was the victim’s name? What had this man been doing in Hackett’s house? When Murphy returned to his office, he was presented with evidence that could potentially help him answer these questions.

It was four gay porn DVDs the CSI forensic team had stumbled upon while going through the sock drawer in the master bedroom. Judging by the location the videos had been kept, Hackett preferred to hide his porn preferences. The DVDs were not the only gay porn items in Hackett’s house. They had also found numerous gay porn movies and photos on the hard drive of Hackett’s laptop. The files were stored in the Sample Music subfolder of the Music folder.

What conclusion followed from all this? Apparently, Jeff Hackett was bisexual (after all, he did sleep with women). Well, everyone had secrets, some more than the others. It was possible that Dean Harris and Gabi Mornell knew about Hackett’s sexual orientation but had deemed it unnecessary to divulge this secret during the interview.

8.

“You were right,” said Ashley Scholl, the Boston PD forensic pathologist Miranda had asked to take a closer look at the victim’s anus. “The victim does appear to have had anal sex the day he was killed. We found abrasions consistent with anal sex as well as traces of condom and personal lubricants in and around his rectum.”

“It sounds so poetic from your lips,” Miranda said, scanning the forensic report. “Thanks for the job well done, Ashley. I’m sure you enjoyed it, too.”

Both of them laughed.

9.

“First of all, I’d like to show you something.” Miranda put one of Hackett’s gay porn DVDs, which was entitled Hard Twinks 2: Monster Cocks, on the desk in front of Gabi.

“What is this?” After realizing what was depicted on the cover of the DVD box, Gabi quickly looked away from the DVD and frowned.

“If you’re turned on by this, don’t be embarrassed. I feel hot and heavy myself, looking at it.”

“No, I’m not.”

“It was a joke. We found this and a couple more in Jeff Hackett’s house.”

Surprise flashed in Gabi’s eyes. “That’s impossible. Jeff would never watch this.” She pointed at the DVD.

“Nevertheless, he had these DVDs in his house. We also found gay porn movies and pictures on his laptop.”

“Absolute nonsense. I’m his girlfriend, do you understand that? I know firsthand what turns him on, okay? He’s not gay, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I’m not getting at anything, Miss Mornell. I’m just stating the fact. After all, it’s a free country and people can sleep with anyone they want. Right now, I’m trying to identify the victim. It’s possible, and let me stress it’s only a possibility, that the victim and Jeff Hackett were sexually involved with each other. My objective is to find out if there was anything going on between them. You need to understand that I have to consider all plausible theories, and according to one of them, that man was killed by Jeff Hackett.”

“It’s impossible. Jeff is incapable of murder. You are wrong, believe me.”

“Then why is he hiding?”

“He’s not hiding. What makes you think he is?”

“Jeff hasn’t been home for almost a week now. And nobody knows where he is.”

“Maybe he just can’t come back home. Maybe he’s been kidnapped.” Gabi paused to think. “I’m sure Jeff didn't kill that man. Those DVDs and those movies on his laptop are not his.”

Chapter 2.

1.

After her meeting with Gabi Mornell, Miranda received the fingerprint search results for the victim. Luckily, they had gotten a positive match. The name of the man murdered at Hackett’s place was Patrick Flynn. He was twenty eight at the time of his death and had previously served three years in prison on a fraud conviction.

Quite a curious twist, wasn't it? It gave food for thought.

Let’s recap the facts. They had found ex-convict Patrick Flynn’s dead body in Jeff Hackett’s house. Flynn had had Hackett’s house keys with him. There were gay porn DVDs in Hackett’s house and gay porn movies and pictures on Hackett’s laptop. Flynn had had anal sex the day he’d died. Hackett had vanished.

Who killed Flynn?

Could it be Hackett? Sure.

Maybe Jeff Hackett had picked up the Flynn at a gay bar, brought him home, and then murdered him. Why? There could have been a dozen reasons for that. For example, Flynn had tried to steal something, Hackett had caught him red-handed, gotten furious, and shot him. One night stands turned violent all the time, there was nothing extraordinary about this scenario.

It didn’t have to be a one night stand, by the way. They might have been long time lovers. How about this scenario: Hackett had found out that Flynn had been cheating on him and pulled the trigger? Or maybe Flynn announced he had met his true love and was going to leave Hackett. Miranda certainly couldn’t rule out this possibility. Love made people do crazy things, she knew that from her own experience.

On the other hand, Jeff’s sexuality might have nothing to do with this murder. Could money be the motive? After all, they said that money was the root of all evil. Had Hackett killed Flynn to avoid repaying a debt? Harris said Hackett didn’t have any debts, which sounded like the truth: it wasn’t very often that a successful businessman and an heir to a three-hundred-million dollar fortune owed money to a smalltime crook. But who said Flynn had remained a smalltime crook? For all she knew, he could have been Hackett’s drug dealer or bookie enforcer.  

2.

“How are you doing, Ms Murphy.” Dillon turned out to have a very deep, manly voice. He offered his left hand for a handshake. “You see,” he waved his right hand, which was wrapped in an elastic bandage, “that’s what happens when you have a chauffeur—you forget how to drive. I took a car for a spin in Italy three months ago and totaled it within half an hour.” He smiled. “My right hand is still throwing tantrums on me. Doctors are saying it should be as good as new in a month or two, but I don't believe them. They think I’ll be pissed if they tell me the truth. They’re wrong, the truth doesn’t upset me. By the way, have you been to Italy, Miranda? Rome is such a beautiful city.”

Now that Dillon had mentioned his driving misadventure, Miranda realized that the unerasable half-smile on the millionaire’s face might have been the result of the damage to the facial nerves incurred in the car accident. And the small scar under Dillon’s left eye had probably been earned in that crash, too.

Miranda looked around Dillon’s office, which was as opulent as she had expected it to be, with its custom made furniture, an amazing Oriental rug, gorgeous silk drapes, and paintings. For the price of the furnishings one could easily buy a two bedroom condo in South Boston.

“This is Claude Monet,” Dillon said when he noticed the detective fix her eyes on the painting hanging on the wall behind his desk. “I love impressionists.” He took Miranda by the elbow and led her to the painting. “I paid a million bucks for it five years ago. Now it’s worth one and a half million. My buddies tell me to hang a copy and put the original in a safe, just in case, but I’m not going to do it. I don’t derive pleasure from simply owning a masterpiece. I need to look at it, admire it.”

The door opened, and Dillon’s assistant entered the office, holding a tray with two cups of coffee and a glass sugar dispenser.

“Put it on the table and go.” Dillon gestured Miranda to take a seat on the leather couch across the room from the desk and then sat next to her. “I have a few more paintings at home, I can show them to you later if you’d like.” He picked up a cup from the coffee table and took a sip. “That damn car crash really shook me up, to be honest with you. I could have died in it, you know. The funny thing is, even though I hate talking about this unfortunate event, I somehow always end up doing it.”

“I see you’re doing okay now.”

“Yes, I’m all right.” Dillon nodded. “Let’s get to business. As I understand, you found a dead man in my son’s house. And I suppose you suspect Jeff of killing him.”

“You’re right, Mister Dillon. At the moment, your son is a suspect in this case.”

“I see. If I were you, I’d probably have the same suspicions.” Dillon pointed at Miranda’s cup. “Please drink your coffee. It’s very good, trust me.”

Miranda picked up her cup and took a sip.

“I have to say, Miranda, that you strike me as a person who achieves her goals and never gives up. I’m sure you’ll find the killer. The real killer. If I can help you in any way with your investigation, feel free to contact me directly any time.”

“I came here to ask you a few questions. Question number one: is it true that you and Jeff are not very close?”

“Who told you that?”

“One of your son’s friends.”

Dillon raised his eyebrow.  “Yes, it’s true. And there is nothing unusual about it, in my opinion. Life is a complicated thing. People make mistakes and then try to forget them. I consider my marriage to Amy, Jeff’s mother, a mistake, which is why I’m not eager to see or talk to my son as often as I should. But at the same time I’m not disregarding Jeff. After all, he is my son and remains part of my life.”

“Did he mention having any problems in the past few weeks? Did he appear worried?”

Dillon shook his head. “Jeff has always strived to solve his problems on his own. He’s not a whiner. Besides, I’d be the last person on the earth he’d complain to.”

“Has he gotten in touch with you since last Friday?”

“Last time I talked to Jeff was about three months ago. We spoke on the phone. I’ve had no contact with him ever since.”

“Do you have any idea about your son’s whereabouts?”

“No. As I said, Jeff and I don’t talk a lot. I know as much about his whereabouts as I do about yours.”

As he wrapped up the conversation, Dillon asked Miranda to keep him informed of the developments in the investigation. Miranda promised to be in touch.

3.

“So how is the investigation going?” Captain Tom Webb asked as he began scanning Miranda’s report on the Hackett case. “Any breakthroughs?”   

“Nothing to brag about, Cap,” Miranda replied.

“You do know who Hackett’s father is, right? That guy is filthy rich and has the Mayor on speed dial.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“I see you’ve identified the victim.”

Miranda nodded. “Some scam artist. He spent three years in prison.”

“You think they were buddies?”

“Right now I’m not ruling anything in or out.”

“I wonder what they could have in common.” Webb scratched his head.

Miranda asked herself if she should tell the boss that Hackett and Flynn could be gay lovers, but before she made up her mind, Webb said, “Listen, maybe this Flynn guy stole Hackett’s car? Then found the house keys and tried to rob Hackett’s place. I’ve dropped the house keys in my car a couple of times before, so there’s nothing unusual about it.”

Miranda gave Webb a curious look. The captain could be onto something.

“Remember I said you were an incompetent buffoon?” she said with a smile.

“How could I forget?” Webb cracked a grin.

“I was wrong.”

Why hadn’t she thought of this herself? The theory was simple, yet beautiful. Flynn had stolen Hackett’s car, found the house keys in it, and decided to play a bigger game. How had he gotten the house address? Maybe Hackett had dropped his driver’s license in the car, too.

Question: why was Flynn so sure he wouldn’t bump into Hackett when he got into his house? Was it because Flynn had rendered Hackett unconscious earlier?

Was it because Flynn had
murdered
Hackett before heading to his place?