Take Stock in Murder (7 page)

“It looks quiet. No sign of the cops. How are we going to bust into the joint?” Carrie asked.

“It may be easier than you think. The reason I couldn’t remember Todd’s address is that these condos are newly renovated. Todd just moved in,” Charles said.

“Interesting. This building isn’t in a cheap part of the city. Todd must be doing very well at the office.”

“I made a phone call to the real-estate agent and discovered they’re still selling units. She’s expecting to show us a condo”— he looked at his watch—“just about now.” With that, he took Carrie’s arm and guided her across the street.

The real-estate agent’s name was Mrs. Breckenridge. She was a woman in her midfifties who gave the impression of having spent her entire life selling real estate. She was immaculately dressed, with hair that had been recently coifed at a city salon. Her polished nails helped to highlight the expensive pen she was writing with when they arrived.

She beamed with enthusiasm as she rose with her hand extended toward Charles. “I’m so glad you and Mrs. Eckenrode came at this time. Later in the afternoon, I get very busy and can’t spend as much time with each prospective buyer as I’d like. Now let me show you the wonderful features of these condos.”

As Mrs. Breckenridge walked down the hallway ahead of them, Carrie whispered through her teeth, “Mrs. Eckenrode?”

Charles shrugged and said, “It’s the name of my sixth-grade teacher.”

Mrs. Breckenridge proceeded to guide Carrie and Charles throughout each and every room in the model. She talked colors, carpets, and concepts. Several times Carrie looked at
Charles, waiting for him to make a move to break away from this very professional sales agent. But he seemed to be enjoying every feature she outlined and took the time to ask questions or add comments to her sales pitch.

“The rooms are laid out very practically and yet maintain the charm of the architecture of the thirties,” Charles said as they returned to the living room and the sales desk.

“Oh, Mr. Eckenrode, you do have an eye for design. Those were the exact specifications we gave our designer: ‘Add the modern features today’s buyers want, but maintain the charm.’”

“Well done, Mrs. Breckenridge, well done. I also like the height of these rooms. Being tall, I like a ceiling that gives me some breathing room.”

“These tall ceilings are found in the older buildings of this city. You don’t get that feature with new construction.” She paused briefly, then continued, “You know, you still get a ten-percent discount, because we’re just under the halfway sales mark.”

“Is there still a selection of units?” Charles asked.

“Oh, yes. We still have thirteen units left, and not until I sell three more does the ten-percent opening offer go away.” She repositioned her half-lens glasses on the end of her nose. “However, if I’m truly honest with you, I must tell you that I expect to close two units today.”

“Yes, I can see how condos like this will go fast. And would you believe number thirteen is our lucky number? Now, let me get my bearings. The east side faces the park, and the west side would face the river. Do you have any units left on the river side?”

“Well, yes. I’ve six left facing the river. But, Mr. Eckenrode, those units are more expensive than the prices I quoted earlier. Aside from facing the river, they all have two bedrooms with a den, not the one bedroom with a den, as you’ve seen here.”

“I understand they would be more expensive, but I think we would prefer the larger apartment. When we come to the city for dinner or to see a show, we come with friends. With two bedrooms, we can extend an overnight stay to our friends. And if we stay during the week, we would both need a place to work. A two bedroom with den seems perfect. Don’t you agree, darling?” Charles smiled.

At first Carrie was dumbfounded by her husband’s performance, but then she decided to join the fun. “Absolutely! We must have another bedroom for our friends, should they get stranded here in the city during late-night theater dates and parties.” She tried to sound just the least bit snobbish.

“We would also like to be higher so we’ve a better view. Let’s see. We’re on the third floor. What do you think, darling? Should we go to the eighth?”

“I do have some on the eighth floor,” Mrs. Breckenridge broke in. “However, the higher you go, the more expensive the cost.” She looked at both Charles and Carrie over the top of her half-frame glasses. “I must apologize, Mr. Eckenrode. I forgot what company you work for.”

“I don’t work for anyone!” Charles said, acting slightly annoyed. “I am president of our family business. You see, we’ve a house up in Tri-County, but it would also be nice to have something in the city.”

Accepting Charles’s mild rebuke, Mrs. Breckenridge said, “I understand fully. And I do have a two-bedroom-with-den condo left on the eighth floor.” She turned to Carrie. “In fact, the gentleman who lives across the hall from this condo is from Tri-County also. Perhaps you know him. A Mr. Barrington, Todd Barrington.”

“That name does sound familiar. Doesn’t it, darling?” Carrie said.

“Yes. We must be sure to introduce ourselves. May we see the condo?”

“Yes, I’ll be glad to show it to you.” Mrs. Breckenridge took a ring of keys from her desk, put up a sign saying she would be right back, and started to lead them out the door.

Charles took a quick glance at his watch, and Mrs. Breckenridge caught him. “You’re not in a hurry, are you, Mr. Eckenrode? I really do want you to see the condo.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Breckenridge. I’ve a bad habit of always checking the time. It’s the result of a very busy lifestyle.”

The three of them left the model and stood waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened, a couple in their late fifties emerged. The couple looked at the group and asked, “Hello. Is one of you Mrs. Breckenridge?”

“Yes, I am,” Mrs. Breckenridge responded.

“We’re the Picketts. So glad we caught you. As I said when I called, we’re about to settle on a condo four blocks away, but several friends said we needed to see the condos in this building.”

“Oh my. I’m with this couple and was about to show a condo. Do you have the time to wait until we return?”

“Actually, we don’t. We have a lunch engagement and thought we would stop by for a few minutes,” answered Mr. Pickett.

“Mrs. Breckenridge, you go ahead and spend time with this couple. Mrs. Eckenrode and I would like to spend time getting the feel of the rooms and deciding where we would like to place our furnishings.” Charles said as he reached out for the key ring. “Now just show me the key I need.”

“Well, I guess that would be all right. It’s apartment eight zero four. See? The condo number is the last three of the six digits listed on each key.”

“Great. Now don’t you worry about us, and please take your time, because that’s exactly what we’re going to do in what will probably be our new condo.”

Charles grinned at Carrie as he twirled the key ring on his finger.

nce they were in the elevator, Carrie was elated. “I thought she would never leave us. What luck that the other couple came along.”

“Yes, wasn’t it?” Charles said.

“I must say, that was quite a performance, my darling. What was all that stuff about our new condo?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to have a condo in the city.”

“Really, Charles? You want to buy a boat
and
a condo all in one day? Not to mention that our potential new condo is on the same floor as Todd’s?”

Charles used Mrs. Breckenridge’s code and held up the key for eight zero six. Charles inserted the key and carefully turned the knob. The door responded, and they entered Todd’s city condo.

“Wow, will you look at this place.” Carrie’s eyes were practically popping. “Todd always said his father refused to give him anything beyond what he earned, other than a Club membership. And we all know Daddy gives Club memberships to
make sure the children meet the right people and cast the extra votes for Tri-County Club presidential elections.”

“It looks like Daddy came through with more than a Club membership for Todd. I’d say he came through in style.” Charles wiped the doorknob with his handkerchief and carefully locked the door behind them.

The condo was professionally decorated in the latest furniture and fabrics. The furniture was modern, expensive, and well polished. The dark evergreen carpet was thick and enhanced the dark wood of the furniture. The best and latest in electronics, including a television, stereo, and DVD, Blu-ray, and CD players, were housed in an entertainment center. And the place was immaculate, indicating that Todd availed himself of the expensive maid service outlined in the sales brochure.

“Somehow I don’t think Daddy paid for all this,” Carrie said.

“But the question is, if Daddy didn’t pay for this, how was Todd earning his extra money? Let’s look for something that explains Todd’s newfound wealth,” Charles suggested as he handed Carrie a pair of latex gloves.

Charles opened one door and found the den. He headed straight to a desk with a laptop sitting on it. He turned the computer on and was surprised Todd didn’t use a password. Charles started sorting through the files.

Carrie left Charles to his tasks and started on the other rooms. She searched quickly through the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Then she focused on Todd’s bedroom. The room was furnished simply, with only a few pieces of furniture made of teak.
Something chic to impress the women
, Carrie thought.
She started looking with a vengeance through every drawer and closet in the place. She was sorry he was dead, but men like Todd annoyed her—why couldn’t they all be like Charles? Todd’s closets revealed quality and expensive clothing, but no clues. She even looked under the bed. Carrie went to the den to find Charles.

Charles looked up from the files he was scanning. “Nothing. He seems to have saved very little on the computer.” He opened desk drawers. “Here’s something interesting,” he said as he held up several slips of paper. “Looks like our boy Todd had a gambling problem.”

“What did you find?” Carrie came and stood next to him.

“They’re gambling receipts for money Todd owed in the amount of thirty thousand dollars.”

“That’s quite a sum, but that could be a good thing for us. Gambling debts can be a motive for murder.”

“Not in this case. These are all paid receipts.”

“Those paid receipts also point to Todd’s having a source of money. There must be financial records or bank accounts with large balances,” Carrie said.

“Wait a minute! Here’s a folder called
LAUNDRY
, and in it is a file that has his bank account transactions. It has entries for his weekly salary from his father’s firm, but each month there’s another five to forty thousand dollars entered.”

“Any indication of how Todd got the additional money?”

“There are letters next to each entry. Later on the numbers repeat themselves.”

Carrie looked over Charles’s shoulder. “I wonder if he was being cute, or if he was laundering money.” She paused. “Could
it be a number code for the person who was the source of the money?”

“Yeah, but where do we find the code?”

“Let me look a little further,” Carrie said,

Carrie looked over the software programs on a nearby shelf. Todd had all the basic programs as well as all the popular games. She spotted a program on managing stocks. She opened the box and pulled out the manual marked “Getting Started.” She flipped open the manual, and a sheet of paper fell out. She unfolded the paper.

“Charles, look!” she exclaimed.

Charles had just finished shutting down the computer and was standing next to Carrie. The paper contained nine columns with fourteen rows. Each row contained one letter followed by five numbers, one letter, and either a two-or three-digit number ending with one letter.