Island Noire: Death at Dawn

Chapter 2: Liar, Liar

Well, Mrs. Schultz wasn't joking. Vice thought, looking out the car window. You really can't miss the Corporation building.

Pierce Corporations was an impressive fifteen stories high. Smooth walls, painted white, stood out from the rest of the smaller, more colorful buildings. Gold colored letters at the top of the building spelled out, in all capitals, PIERCE CORPORATION.

"As if anyone really couldn't tell." Andy quipped, parking the car right out front.

Vice chuckled, getting out of the vehicle. "Let's just hope that Mr. Pierce is here and can give us some useful information.

The pair walked up the short section of stairs, another thing that set the building apart from the more ordinary businesses around it, and went through the revolving glass door. Stepping into the lobby, Vice's eyes went wide.

Long windows, and the glass from the revolving door, let in a substantial amount of light, naturally illuminating the impressive interior. With its Greek-style pillars in each corner of the room, decorative paintings, French doors, and impressive white leather sofas with accenting mahogany coffee tables, one would have thought they had entered the lobby to heaven rather than a business. Vice's shoes clicked against the polished marble floor as he and Andy made their way to the front desk, a large mahogany counter with a white marble top. The stern older woman behind the desk looked up, her face impassive, even when he and Andy flashed their badges.

"Hello," Vice greeted, "I am detective Versius and this is my partner, Detective Martin. We need to ask Mr. Pierce a couple of questions."

"I'm sorry Detective; Mr. Pierce is in a very important business meeting at the moment." She glanced at Andy as he gave a small snort, "May I ask what this is about?"

"I'm afraid his secretary was found dead this morning. We were hoping that-"

"Oh my god, Andrea?" The receptionist gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

"You were acquainted with Ms. Taylor, Ms.?" Vice questioned, remembering to take his notebook out of his breast-pocket.

"Collin, Elizabeth Collin." She nodded, "And yes, I did know Andrea. She was a nice young lady, extremely polite and well-mannered."

Vice nodded, trying to look professional and cover up the fact that he was desperately looking for a pen. The receptionist deftly flicked her eyes to the cup of pens on the desk top not a foot from his hand.

Vice coughed and quickly took one of the pens before continuing, "Do you know if Ms. Taylor had any disputes or concern about any co-workers? I can imagine some people may be rather jealous of her position, giving that it payed much better than her old profession."

Ms. Collin snorted, "Any job here pays better than the nightshift at a twenty-four hour diner. I think even the janitors here make more a year; Mr. Pierce is a very generous man." She looked past the two detectives and sighed. "Her desk is on the top floor. While Mr. Pierce is unavailable, I can escort the both of you there. I'm sure the two of you would like to inspect her workspace."

"It would be greatly appreciated." Andy nodded.

Ms. Collin jot something down on a slip of paper and left it on the desk before escorting the two through the huge, white French doors –opened from the opposite side by two young men- and leading them through two rooms. Both full of people who sat bent over desks, taking phone calls, reading documents, or typing. They breezed through these rooms, however, and walked down a long hallway, stopping at an elevator.

The doors immediately opened when Ms. Collin pressed the button to call the elevator and, when they had all entered, she immediately pressed the button for the top floor – number fifteen.

"Andrea's desk is on the top floor, as I said, but it is right outside Mr. Pierce's office. Once Mr. Pierce is available, I will inform him to meet you here." Ms. Collin commented.

Thank you very much." Vice said, feeling slightly awkward.

The elevator ride was a short one and, just as she said, Ms. Collin escorted them right to Andrea's desk, despite it being in perfect view once the elevator doors opened.

"Just ring the front desk if you need any more assistance. The extension is twelve-forty-seven."

"Will do, ma'am. Thanks again." Andy nodded.

Ms. Collin turned and walked straight back towards the elevator. Andy watched as she left. As soon as the doors closed and the floor numbers flashed, showing that the elevator was descending, Andy turned to Vice.

"Ten dollars our vic. was banging the boss."

What?! Andy!" Vice sputtered.

"What?" His partner shrugged. "You heard the lady, Vice. Our Andrea Taylor was a nightshift waitress at a diner who managed to get a job here, one of the biggest companies in the city. Unless she had some good references, I don't think she would have landed the job on credentials alone."

"Even so," Vice coughed, red-faced, as he quickly looking at a picture on the desk with sudden interest, "we shouldn't make obscene wagers over the deeds of the deceased."

Andy rifled through a drawer, smirking. "I think you're just worried you'll lose."

Vice didn't retort. He was focused on the picture, with actual interest. It was a simple photograph in a small picture frame; a snapshot of Andrea with two female friends at her side at what looked like a party. All of them were smiling and looking like they were enjoying themselves. Vice looked closer, however, and noticed a hand around Andrea's waist. The person whose hand it was wasn't visible.

Vice turned the frame over and unfastened the back. Just as I thought. The picture had been folded over.

He bent the folded part back into place, revealing a dark-haired young man standing beside her, his hand around her waist. Who are you?

"Excuse me!" A deep voice called. Vice and Andy looked up.

A young man, exiting the elevator, looked back that them. He was fairly tall, with short brown hair, and dressed in a smart-looking tuxedo. He walked straight-backed and confident, his face serious.

"Mr. Pierce, I assume?" Vice greeted.

The young man nodded. "Yes, I'm Damian Pierce. Is what Elizabeth told me true? Did Andrea…was she…?"

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Pierce." Vice confirmed. "We were wondering if you could answer a few questions."

Damian's shoulders seemed to slump a little, his head going down slightly. "Yes, of course I can…in my office, if you please."

He didn't wait for the detectives' confirmation. He simply turned and walked past the two detectives to open the doors to his office and sat in the chair behind his desk. Vice and Andy followed him in and took their seats in front of him.

Damian folded his hands on the table, "What find of questions do you have for me?"

"Can you tell us about Ms. Taylor; what her work hours were, which co-workers she is close to, or which co-workers she disliked." Andy prompted. Vice pulled out his notebook.

Damian leaned back in his chair, pensively. "Andrea worked here from eight-thirty in the morning to about three in the afternoon, sometimes she would stay later if the day was busy."

`"How late?" Andy asked.

"She would stay as late as seven. She was payed overtime of course." Damian answered. "She's worked here for a little over a year now."

Vice scribbled notes as he continued.

"Andrea was well liked, though. I can't think of any of my immediate staff who disliked her or would be willing to kill her."

Vice looked up, "And what about yourself, Mr. Pierce, your opinion of Ms. Taylor?"

Damian gave a small smile, "She was probably the best secretary I've had." His eyes glazed a bit and seemed to look past the two detectives, "Always kept me on top of my schedule and always let me know at least an hour ahead of time when my next meeting was. She was exceptional at keeping track of multiple things at once."

Andy gave a small cough. "Do you credit that to her previous job?"

Damian's eyes suddenly cleared and focused on Andy as he cocked an eyebrow. "If you were referring to her job as a waitress that would probably make the most sense. I don't base hire solely on the previous employment."

"She was one of the prettier applicants though, no?" Andy pushed.

Damian leaned forward, his eyes hardening. "She was attractive, yes, but I hired her because she had more heart. She was young, had dreams of traveling, and was willing to take a risk with the interview."

He sat back slowly, blinking and then clearing his throat.

"I prefer my staff to have some zest, prevents the offices from being dull workplaces, decent conversation and all."

Andy smiled as if he had meant nothing by the question. "Of course."

Vice wrote a few more notes before placing Andrea's photo on the desk. "Do you know who this man is?"

Damian took the picture and studied it for a moment. Vice noticed his eyes narrow and his calm expression change into one of anger for a split second before he placed it on the desk and slid it back towards him. "No, never."

Vice slowly slid the photo back, "I implore you to look again. The identity of this man could be crucial to the case….not to mention it is a very serious crime to impede an investigation because of…personal feelings."

Damian stared at Vice for a moment, calculating, but he took the picture and studied it again.

"As far as I know, it was a boyfriend of hers." He finally sighed. "She broke up with him soon after I hired her. She tried not to show it, but everyone could tell she was very torn up about it."

"Can you recall his name, by any chance?"

"Jared Hewitt." Damian said, handing the picture over.

Vice accepted it and tucked it away into his pocket. "And your whereabouts yesterday, Mr. Pierce? Can you tell us where you were between the times of ten thirty and one in the morning yesterday?"

"I was working here late. I left at around nine and went to the bar with some friends of mine."

"Can these friends confirm this?" Andy asked.

"Damian chuckled, "I'm afraid not. The two I was with drank like fish and the bartender that night had a heavy pour. I don't think they would even be able to have a whispered conversation with you two. I did call my wife during the night, however. With all the noise they were making, she would be able to confirm my story. As for coming home, I was in bed at three this morning."

Andy opened his mouth to say something, probably a jab half disguised as a joke, but a loud buzz from a black device interrupted him. "Mr. Pierce? Your one o'clock meeting will be starting in about ten minutes."

Damian's lip thinned, but he pressed a button on the device. "Thank you, I'll be right there."

He released the button, muttering to himself. "Andrea would have told me as soon as I got back up to the office….But!" He clapped as he stood, moving to the door to show the detectives out. "It will just take some getting used to. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me."

The two detectives stood and let themselves be shown out, but Andy stopped at the door. "Your address, Mr. Pierce? We would like to confirm your story with your wife, if you don't mind."

"Oh, of course, I don't mind at all." Damian answered. "It's 91 Orchard Street. About half an hour drive if you manage to hit all the lights, twenty if you don't."

"Thank you very much." Andy smiled as Damian closed the door and walked down the hall to Vice's side.

The two said nothing. It wasn't until they were halfway to the car that Andy's smile widened as he elbowed Vice.

"He was totally banging her."

He laughed and quickly walked to the car, a red-faced Vice sputtering after him.

"You….you can't just go….assuming that sort of thing!"

"I'm not "assuming" Vice. Come on! The man practically admitted it!"

"I just don't think-"

Andy shook his head, starting the car. "Vice, he got aaaall moon-eyed at the mention of the dame's name, not to mention that cock and bull "alibi" he gave us."

"Anyone would be more than upset if they found out someone they worked with had been murdered….or killed…in any fashion….wouldn't have mattered if they were together or not. As for the alibi, we shouldn't assume. We need to go with what evidence tells us."

"Yeah, but this guy's eyes…the lights went out in 'em for a second. Sure he-" Andy paused, looking at Vice. "Are you alright? Now you've got that look…."

"No, no…I'm quite alright." Vice said.

"You sure? Never seen you go moon-eyed before….some dame on your mind?"

Vice shook his head. "No, no…was… was just remembering something…Having a senior moment."

"Alrighty, if you say so." Andy chuckled lightly. "Well, should be at the Pierce residence is about twenty minutes, let's hope the lights don't make us wait."

-:-

Despite having, Vice supposed, perhaps upward of a million dollars at his disposal, Pierce had a surprisingly modest house. Granted it was in an extremely wealthy neighborhood, but the Pierce household looked fairly ordinary.

The front lawn was small. The grass was all green, not a brown or bare spot to be seen, and flowers that were in full bloom lined the brick walkway to the front door of a two-story home. Vice looked down at the flowers and the tidy lawn as he and Andy made their way to the front door.

"I'm honestly surprised." Andy said.

Vice looked up at him. "Surprised? Well…I suppose the path would have been better lined with Violets or some nice Begonias, but I think these daisies are a simple but lovely touch."

"I was talking about the fact that this place wasn't what I expected it to be. I was expecting the house to look like one of those mansions right down the street. Now I am more surprised that you are actually critiquing and naming flowers." Andy laughed, knocking on the front door, taking care to mind the stained glass design.

"There is nothing wrong with knowing a little about the common flora. Did you-"

A loud crash and a woman's scream from inside the house cut him off. Vice barely had any time to think before Andy pulled a handgun from his hip and had attempted to open the door, only to find that it was locked. Andy elbowed the door's center, shattering the colored glass he had taken care to avoid moments before.

Andy stuck his arm through the hole, avoiding the remaining jagged pieces of glass that clung to their frame and flipped the lock. The two rushed inside, just in time to see a man push away from a woman.

"I'll get him! You stay with the lady!" Andy yelled, disappearing down the hall after the fleeing man.

The woman was yelling in French, looking furiously down the hall.

"Mrs. Pierce? Mrs. Pierce, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Vice asked firmly, trying not to yell over her or seem panicked. He extended his hands out to hers to get her attention.

The woman turned her furious gaze into him and slapped his hands away. "Let go of moi, you fool!" She snarled, her French accent heavy. "'ow dare you barge into my 'ome and break my window!"

"But the noise…the scream? Surely there-"

Mrs. Pierce scoffed, "Ee't waz nothing."

"But you screamed…and that burglar shoved you…"

"Burglar?" Mrs. Pierce laughed, airily. "My 'usband 'as an alarm system zat moi could turn on at any time. 'E worries too much."

Vice sighed and rubbed his temples. "Well…who was that man then? And, tell me, where was your husband last night? Did he call you and tell you he was going to come home late?"

Mrs. Pierce looked at him. "Did my 'usband tell you 'e was at ze bar?"

When Vice nodded, she laughed again. "Of course, zat is wat 'e told you. Well, 'e waz 'ome late. But 'e was never at ze bar."

"Where was he?" Vice pressed.

Mrs. Pierce smiled knowingly. "'E waz wiz 'is American 'ore of course."

Vice's eyes widened, "Do you me-"

"I got him, Vice!"

Vice turned as Andy pushed a young man into the room. As he stumbled, Mrs. Pierce cried out, and rushed to his side side, murmuring softly in French.

Vice's flicked from the young man to Andy, shocked.

Holy Shit…