Page 46 of The Perfect Poise

“Apparently the security team is comprised of two people who walk the property regularly, inside and out,” Cole told him, “but there’s no control room where someone is constantly watching security footage. The cameras seem to have been intended more as a deterrent.”

“They didn’t do a very good job,” Ryan muttered.

“The killer knew the code,” Jessie noted, moving on to the fact that intrigued her more than the cameras, “that means they likely had regular access to the house and that it was someone Greene trusted.”

“Were you able to track where they came from before arriving at the gate or after they left?” Ryan asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Cole said. "We could only tell that they came and left from the direction of the parkette, which is across the street and just down the block. But there are no cameras set up there, and there are no homes close enough to provide alternate views."

“It’s almost like the killer knew exactly how to evade detection,” Jessie grumbled sarcastically.

“And I’m afraid there’s more bad news,” Cole added reluctantly. “I know that parkette well. The back side of it leads to a series of dirt trails, some of which end on adjoining streets. So the killer could have parked just about anywhere on one of the surrounding blocks, changed out of the black get-up and into normal clothes, exited the trail, and driven away without being noticed.”

“Are we sure they drove anywhere?” Ryan wondered. “Let’s not dismiss the employees. It sounds like Fiona Greene wasn’t the greatest boss of all time. Is it possible that someone exited the property from some other spot, changed into the black outfit, and then came around front to make it look like it was an outsider.”

“There is a back entrance for the staff, just off the rear alley that runs behind all the houses on this street,” Cole noted. “I suppose that with enough planning ahead of time, someone on staff could have found a way to make that work.”

“Then we need to interview everyone on the staff,” Ryan said. “Are your people able to help out with that?”

“We’re at your disposal, Detective,” Cole said.

“How many people work here?” Jessie asked.

"Today, there are fifteen staff people on the property," Cole said.

Jessie’s heart sank. That was a lot of interviews, especially when they couldn’t be sure the killer was one of them.

“We better get started,” she said.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Jessie couldn’t believe her luck.

It was at 5:15, barely a half hour into their interviews, when a passing comment from the gardener caught her attention. She was with the sun-weathered man, named Miguel Carlos, in the library, while Ryan and various other officers were speaking to other staffers. A burly, armed, uniformed officer stood off to the side, just in case Carlos was their killer and decided to do something rash.

“Mrs. Greene was very hard in her judgments,” he said, when asked how he felt towards the woman, “so I stayed away from her as much as could. She was a little better today.”

“Better compared to when?” Jessie asked, her interest piqued.

“She was in a bad mood all day yesterday from the morning on,” he said, “ever since the meeting with the man.”

“Which man?” Jessie pressed, leaning in.

“I don’t know his name,” Carlos admitted. “Just that he was in a suit. He comes by every few months to talk to the Greenes. It is something to do with business.”

“Tell me about the meeting,” Jessie said. “Why did it put her in a bad mood?”

“I don’t know what they said,” Carlos told her. “They were in the driveway near the front door, and I was by the rose bushes, which isn’t close enough to hear. But I saw the man and the Greenes at the door talking. They shook hands. Then he went to his car, and they returned to the house. But a few seconds later, Mrs. Greene came back out alone and called to the man. They were standing by his car. She was waving her hands and talking loud and angry. He wasn’t as loud, but also sounded mad. After a minute, he got in his car and left, driving very fast. She went back to the house and slammed the front door. The rest of the day, she yelled, even more than usual.”

“What time was this, Mr. Carlos?” Jessie asked.

“Maybe around ten?” he guessed.

“Who would know his name?”

“The house manager, Missy,” he said. “She handles everything—all workers and all appointments.”

Jessie turned to the burly officer standing nearby.

---