The Telltale Wife

My analysis moved on to broader subjects, like our marriage, her fidelity, my career, and what my future may hold without Olivia. I splashed some more whiskey in my glass, sipped it, and contemplated the direction of my life.

I think the weight of all the emotions of the day coupled with the alcohol. I drifted off into a deep sleep.

Later, much later, I was awakened from my alcohol fueled slumber by a rapping on the door. It took a moment for me to realize I was in my den, it had to be the middle of the night. There were red and blue flashes reflected on my ceiling from what must be police cars outside.

I stumbled up to answer the door.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Detective Nicholas Calabria heard the vibration of his cell phone. It was unusual to get these late night calls in the sleepy town of Brompton. Normal all those years he worked in the city. But not here. This may be more interesting than normal, Nick thought.

"Nicky," came the call from dispatch, "need you up on The Bluffs. Might be a jumper."

Nick listened to the phone call as he threw on some clothes and a warm coat. He got in his car and drove to the trailhead. There was a Brompton patrol car there, lights flashing. Crime scene tape was stretched across the trail. Looked like somebody was in the backseat of the police car.

"Hey Nick," the older of the two policemen called out. "Up here," he said and motioned up the trail. Nick followed. As they walked Nick got the story.

Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, were up on The Bluffs, and noticed something down on the rock shelf below. Very quickly they realized it was a body. When questioned the two of them told the policemen they were out for a midnight hike.

Of course everyone knew what they were really doing alone at night, but that didn't matter.

Nick and the officer got to the top and looked down on the rocks and there it was, a body. At this distance and at this time of night it was impossible to see much detail.

Nick focused his flashlight on the ground and quickly saw some footprints in the muddy ground. He studied them for a moment.

"Pat," Nick addressed the older officer. "Stake this area out with crime scene tape." Nick pointed with his flashlight. "And do it carefully, don't smudge the footprints."

They called the Coast Guard rescue team. They were going to need to rappel down the face of The Bluffs with a sled for the body. There was a debate about waiting for morning light, but Nick insisted he needed the body up as soon as possible.

Nick knew every minute longer after a crime had elapsed made it more difficult to solve. That is if it turned out to be a crime. Pat and his partner talked as if it was a jumper or an accident. Nick was beginning to think it was more than that.

An hour and a half later they had the body up. Nick noticed a familiarity about her. Suddenly he recalled, this was the young woman from the play. He'd seen it Friday night. He confirmed her identity with her ID in her coat pocket.

They didn't have a crime scene analyst in Brompton but Greenfield County sheriff's department did and they were sending their's.

Nick gathered any information he could from the crime scene knowing the analyst would get more detail. Nick also spoke to the teenagers that first discovered the body. They had nothing to add and were both more worried about getting in trouble with their parents for being out late and alone.

"Well, fella's," Nick addressed Pat and the other officer, "let's go see if we can find the husband."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I squinted as I looked out the door. There was a serious looking dark complected balding man and two uniformed policemen on my doorstep. This can't be good I thought, feeling my blood pressure rise.

"Are you Mr.Green?" The dark complected man asked. "May we come in?"

Silently I opened the door and led the somber party into the living room where I motioned toward the furniture for them to sit.

"Mr Green, I'm detective Calabria," the dark-complected man began, "and unfortunately we have some bad news for you."

He told me about finding Olivia's body and how it was discovered. I became emotional and they paused for a moment, respecting my grief. He told me initially it looked like an accident. And then he asked me about Olivia's mental state.

I knew where they were going, did I think she'd jumped. I answered their questions briefly giving little detail. I was in grief consumed shock trying to understand all the ramifications.

Calabria seemed to shift gears a little and it felt like his intensity focused.

"Mr Green, when was the last time you saw your wife?"

I explained that I'd arrived home from work early and she and I had a discussion the previous afternoon. I broke down in tears again. He probed further and again I answered with very little detail.

I felt him look at me a little closer.

"May I ask how you received the injuries to your face? They look rather recent." He observed.

I explained it had been an accident, again, no long detail. I know what it looked like. I was starting to feel another emotion beyond grief. I was getting nervous.

Eventually they left and Calabria asked that I be available as they looked further into the circumstances surrounding Olivia's death.

I was in stunned shock replaying all the events of the past day. How could things have gone so wrong so quickly. I continued to grieve my wife's death and I felt guilty about my part in everything.

I knew I needed to take some action. I needed to protect myself, and the memory of Olivia. The first person I knew I needed to call was Walter Upshaw, my managing partner at the office. I needed to explain my situation, and then ask for a favor.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

"Definitely looks like some type of struggle." The crime scene analyst from the county told Nick Calabria.

"You can see the muddy footprints," and she showed Nick some images, pointing out with a pen, "here and here, these ridges are consistent with a struggle. Not a slip, and certainly not a jump."

She went on to say there were definitely more than one set of footprints in the area. Unfortunately the crime scene had been contaminated to the degree where they could not use the footprints as positive identification.

They did have the shoes the deceased wore and samples of the caked mud in the sole of those shoes. This could be helpful.

I need witnesses, Nick thought. Someone who may have seen her on the trail. Who else was around? Obviously the husband was suspect number one, but in a town like this, gossip was a normal pastime. Someone will say something he thought. I may need to widen the net.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

All things considered, my conversation with Walter Upshaw accomplished what I needed. Yes, Olivia was gone. It was hard to believe and it left open so many questions. But, I had to manage my feelings and think in far more practical terms.

Walter was overcome with emotion when I told him about Olivia's passing. Though he did not know her well he was one of those people that can create great and sincere sympathy. I appreciated it.

"Dear boy," he began, "please take as much time off as you need."

I thanked him and told him it may be better for me to continue to work. It would be the type of distraction that could be therapeutic. I asked him if he had any problem with me operating my from home office. At least for the short term.

"Of course not Adam, please, do what you need to in this time of grief."

I had one other favor to ask him, this one was a little delicate.

"Walter," I began, "I think just as a precautionary move I'm going to need to hire an attorney. I was wondering if you knew anyone for this type of.... " I hesitated, "situation."

There was a pause on the other end. For a moment I thought maybe the call was dropped. And then he replied.

"Actually, one of my fellow clubmates at The Metropolitan Club is Gardner Wells. Perhaps you've heard of him. He has an impeccable reputation. Gard and I are good friends, I think he'd help out if I asked"

I recalled the name and I thought I'd seen Gardner Wells on television. Big, tall and broad, a worn craggy face, and a mane of silver hair normally combed back. I remembered him being an overpowering orator facing off against his opponents in court.

"Thank you Walter. Most likely I will never truly need his help but I want to be ready just in case". I told him.

Walter told me he'd contact Wells and let him know I may be in touch. I thanked him again.

Throughout the balance of the day I made phone calls to family and friends relaying the awful news about Olivia.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Over the next several days new information came in concerning the Olivia Green case. The crime scene analyst found the victim's IPhone on her person. Despite the cracked screen and other damage to the phone IT thought they could still get data from the device.

The Greenfield County coroner discovered another piece of new information. There was DNA evidence under the victims fingernails. Nick thought back to the scratches on the husband's face.

There was also a witness. A regular at The Staghorn, Gil Flaherty remembered seeing Olivia head up The Bluffs trail that Monday evening.

"How did you recognize her?" Nick asked Flaherty.

"I recognized her from the play. My wife and I saw it Saturday night. Never, forget what she looks like. No sir! Even with her clothes on, I remembered her for sure."

Though he didn't see the play, Nick had heard of Mrs Green's risqué part in the play.

Nick went on to ask him if she'd been alone.

"Yeah, but about a minute after she'd come by I saw a man and he looked like he was trying to catch up to her."

Flaherty did not recognize the man, but what he described sounded a lot like the husband.

The following day they were able to get information from the salvaged IPhone. It looked like there may have been some kind of rebuffed blackmail attempt by Bruno DeKonig toward the victim. That's interesting, Nick thought. Could DeKonig somehow be involved?

There were also numerous texts between Mrs Green and a 'Pierre'. Nick quickly found out that Pierre was an actor participating in the same play as Mrs Green. He also learned that the play was directed by Bruno. An interesting mess. Lots of possibilities Nick thought.

He saw texts between Mrs Green and someone named Pierre. Likely the other actor from the play. He told himself he wanted to dig into the messages.

Nick sat at his desk and thought. I still think the husband is the most likely, but we have Bruno, and Pierre Dumond. I'll ask our researcher to look at all of them. See if there's any kind of information that may help this investigation.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I took the later train into the city. By now the word of Olivia's accident was public knowledge. I definitely did not want to run into Charlie Labady and that crowd. I was scheduled to meet Gardner Wells at his midtown club at 11 AM.

I'd been contacted by the Brompton police. They asked that I stop by in the next few days. They had a few more questions for me. The request unnerved me.

Wells, larger than life, was several minutes late and there was no apology. After the normal preliminaries we sat and he asked me about my circumstances.

I told him the briefest of information that I knew about Olivia and then the subsequent visit from the police. As I was explaining I noticed Wells nodding as if he understood and had it all under control. One other thing I noticed about him. He seemed old.

The rest of our visit was hearing him brag about all his legal success. He seemed not terribly concerned about my situation.

Finally, I was able to interrupt his long self aggrandizing soliloquy.

"Gardner," I said, "what do you think of my situation? Is this something you can help me with? I'm supposed to meet with the local police this week."

He paused and studied me. I noticed his eyes looked a bit rheumy, and his skin was well wrinkled.

"If you would like me to represent you, unquestionably I should be able to dispose of your local police quite quickly." He said with confidence. It was a brief glimpse at his confident courtroom effectiveness. "I'll need a check for $25,000. My office will email you a representation agreement."

And that was that. We shook hands and went our separate ways. I felt positive that I had this degree of legal support just in case I should need it with the police.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Nick studied his computer screen. This guy was moving up the charts as a potential suspect in the Green case. Born Peter Dunfrie. Name changed to Pierre DuMond. Did a brief time in Ohio for assault. An accusation of stalking, and several other entries both under Dunfrie and DuMond.

He's definitely someone I need to talk to. I also need to talk to Bruno too. Tomorrow I have Adam Green coming in at 1:30 PM. He's still number one on my list of suspects but I'll be curious about alibis for both DuMond and Bruno.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Gardner Wells requested I pick him up at the train station at 1 PM. Naturally he was late, but this time I couldn't blame him. I flagged him down and watched as he walked to my car. I couldn't shake the thought that he looked like an old man. I had seen a flash of his larger than life persona and I guess that's what I was banking on.

He seemed unnaturally out of breath for the short level walk to my car, but then shook my hand with pronounced vigor.

"Let's go and dispose of your problem my boy," he said to me as we made the short drive to the small local police station attached to Brompton City Hall.

I was buoyed by his self confidence. I wanted nothing more of this entanglement with the police. I felt I was not able to process everything that happened with Olivia if I was still contending with the police. I brought in the cavalry. Gardner Wells.

Wells was most known for helping a well known Hollywood celebrity who had been accused of several crimes. His image appeared on television standing large and with his commanding voice decimating the witnesses and ultimately saving his client. Since then he would occasionally appear on television news shows as an expert

A legal celebrity.

So when Wells and I walked into the small Brompton police station, very quickly everyone became aware that someone famous was on the premises.

Several minutes later detective Calabria emerged from a back office. He paused with surprise and glanced at Gardner Wells as he entered the front lobby of the police station.

"I see you've brought company," Detective Calabria said to me.

"Detective, this is my counsel Gardner Wells." I introduced Calabria and Wells.

Calabria had a half smile on his face as he glanced from me to Wells. He asked us to follow him to his office in the back.

"Detective," Wells began in his authoritative voice, "my client and I have agreed to a few short questions as a show of good faith. My client, Mr Green, is obviously in deep grief over the unfortunate circumstances of his wife's accident."

Suddenly any trepidation I had concerning Wells's age and effectiveness was washed away. With his deep booming voice there was no doubt how confident and persuasive he presented himself. I was glad he was on my side.

Calabria was positioned behind his desk as Wells and I sat in two uncomfortable chairs on the other side. The detective began a review of the night Olivia died. Real tears formed in my eyes as we re-lived the evening with all the emotions surrounding that awful night.

As Calabria began asking me questions, I felt Wells' large hand grip my forearm and squeeze. I stopped mid sentence looking at him.

"From this point forward," he told the detective, "please address your questions to me. My client will stay silent."

"Is this how you really want to play it?" Calabria directed the question to me.

I hesitated and then nodded.

As Calabria continued his questions, Wells, using all his courtroom experience, deflecting most of the questions providing just the barest framework of answers. I knew what he was doing. He was protecting me, but I also think he was angering Calabria. I wondered if a more cooperative strategy might be better.

Ultimately I had to trust Wells and his years of legal expertise.

Shortly after we arrived we left. I offered to take Wells out to a late lunch or dinner but he insisted he needed to return to the city. He looked tired.

"Son," the aged lawyer addressed me at the train station, "I highly doubt whether the local police will bother you again."

And with that. He was gone.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Over the next two days Nick continued his investigation into the Olivia Green case. There was no question that some type of physical confrontation led to her death. There were obviously no witnesses that saw anything up on The Bluffs, which made his job more difficult. But the beginnings of a strong circumstantial case was forming in Nick's mind.

The fact that the husband brought in high octane legal counsel only heightened his likely involvement status.

On the dryboard in his office at the police station he had written ADAM GREEN. And then below he had written three other entries. BRUNO DEKONIG, PIERRE DUMOND/PETER DUNFRIE, and PHONE RECORDS.

Nick loved a challenge and had mapped out a plan to try to build a case. The interviews with DeKonig and Peter/Pierre initially offered him no substantial information. Bruno claimed he was at home that Monday night. Bruno had no alibi, he'd been alone.

Nick knew Bruno and though he could be egotistical and bragadose, Nick's sense was that he was no killer. Nick asked about the text messages that hinted at some type of leveraged blackmail.

"Oh that," Bruno chuckled, "that was a joke between Olivia and me." He hesitated and continued, "but someone you should talk to is Pierre. And you better do it quickly. With Olivia's, uh, situation the play has been terminated early. I don't expect Pierre to stay in town much longer."

Nick made a few notes, thanked Bruno and went to find Peter/Pierre.

He finally tracked him down at The Staghorn.

Nick wanted the interview in his office at the police station, but Pierre (that's what he's calling himself these days) insisted that they could talk at a back table at The Staghorn.

Nick went through it in reverse order starting with most recent events. Pierre hesitated when asked if he had an alibi. And then said no, he was alone Monday night.

"You're sure?" Nick asked.

He hesitated but still insisted he'd been alone.

Nick then asked him about his relationship with Olivia. Pierre claimed they were both professional and though there were certainly some titillating parts of the play, their relationship was strictly actor and actress.

Nick's antennae was definitely up. He knew this guy was lying, he just wasn't quite sure what he was lying about.

Then they got into Pierre's criminal past. Nick reviewed the incarceration in Ohio, the assault charges, and the stalking charges in Canada. Pierre explained it all as misguided actions of youth. That was all well behind him, he insisted.

"What about this name change, and the accent?" Nick asked.

"I wanted a fresh start in my life," Pierre began, "I wanted to wipe the slate clean and start over, with a new identity."

It sounded like this was an answer he'd rehearsed previously.

Nick asked Pierre to hang around for a few more days. There may be some follow up questions.

Digging into the phone records produced quite a bit of usable information. Without question it appeared that Mrs Green and Pierre had become intimate. He was talking about moving back to the city and it sounded like she wanted to join him.

He was noncommittal. A source of tension, Nick wondered? And then the odd messages from Bruno. He all but said he wanted to sleep with her. From a few rumors about Bruno he'd heard around town this was perfectly within the realm of what could be expected from Bruno.