Chapter Five: Digging Deeper
Subway
90 Worth Street
Manhattan, New York
Tuesday December 1
Lupo, Bernard, Connie, and Mike decided to have lunch together to talk about the Carlisle case.
When they went to sit down at a booth, Mike stood back chivalrously so Connie could sit down first. She gave him a grateful smile and did so. Lupo took a step toward her side of the booth, but Mike sat down next to her first.
"Oh," Lupo muttered awkwardly.
He then sat down next to Bernard.
After the four of them started in on their lunches—
"Damn," said Bernard, swallowing a bite of his sandwich. "There went the best lead we had."
"I still think he did it," Lupo said. "Who else had motive?"
"Have you found anything new that could be used against him?" Mike asked.
"Unfortunately, no. but that doesn't mean we won't eventually find something," said Lupo. "Again—who else had motive? Just because all the evidence was circumstantial, that doesn't mean he isn't guilty. Look at Marcus Woll. The case against that sleazebag was challenging, but we still got him in the end, right?"
"That's true," said Connie, glancing at Mike.
"But we're obviously missing something," said Lupo. "Or maybe we're not—maybe that's it, and he'll just walk. After all, shit happens. We can't always save the day. But I prefer not to believe that's what's going on here."
"I think we're missing something," said Bernard.
"So let's widen the scope of the investigation," said Mike. "This guy sounds like a real prick—maybe he hired someone to kill his wife for him."
"It's a definite possibility," said Bernard.
"Let's look into his finances," said Connie. "Large withdrawals and wire transfers are major red flags when it comes to hired hits."
***DOINK!DOINK***
N.Y.P.D. 27th Precinct
Manhattan, New York
Friday December 4
Lupo and Bernard sat at their desks, going over Vance Carlisle's financial records, which they'd divided in half between themselves.
"Hmm…There are some several-hundred-dollar payments, but they're all legal fees, bills…Nothing suspicious-looking here," said Lupo.
He rubbed his forehead.
"You see any statements or anything for any off-shore banks?" he asked. "I don't. Just a bunch of statements and stuff for a checking account and a savings account, both from Bank of America."
"Yeah, same here," said Bernard. "Financials—hours and hours of endless amusement."
"Yeah," Lupo agreed dryly.
A few hours later—
"How's it going, guys?" asked Van Buren, coming over to check on them.
Bernard sighed as Lupo swallowed a drink of coffee.
"We've gone over everything with a fine-toothed comb," said Bernard. "We haven't found anything to suggest a hired hit—no suspicious-looking withdrawals or wire transfers into other accounts…nothing."
"At first, we thought that, with his middle-class salary—between fifty and eighty thousand as an associate professor—he wouldn't be able to afford it, but, you know, covering our bases and all that. I mean, some people change jobs, some people invest, but it doesn't look like this guy did either one," said Lupo.
He then tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn.
"I think it's past somebody's bed time," Bernard quipped, smirking.
"Ha ha," said Lupo, although he was smiling.
Van Buren smirked.
"Look, I'm heading out, and I suggest you two do the same," she said. "Especially you, Sleeping Beauty," she added to Lupo. "On Monday, we'll get Connie and Cutter all caught up. Goodnight, guys."
"Goodnight, Lu," Lupo and Bernard said in unison.
***DOINK!DOINK!***
The Manhattan District Attorney's Office
One Hogan Place
Manhattan, New York
Monday December 7
Connie had barely taken her files and her laptop out of her briefcase and was on her way to Mike's office when her phone rang. She tucked her files and her laptop under her arm and then answered it.
"Connie Rubirosa…Hey, Bernard…Good, you?...Okay…"
She entered Mike's office and smiled at him in greeting.
He smiled back at her.
"All right…" Connie said, listening as Bernard updated her. "Okay, so back to the drawing board, then…That sounds great, keep us posted…All right, great…You, too…'Bye."
"Good morning," Mike said warmly.
"Good morning, Mike," Connie returned kindly. "That was Bernard. In regards to the Carlisle case, Mr. Carlisle has been eliminated as a suspect. Nothing in his financials suggests he hired a hitman. So he, Lupo, and Van Buren are going to go over everything again to see if there's anything we all missed the first time. For the record, I definitely think there was."
"Yeah," Mike agreed. "Watch, we'll find out it's been staring us in the face the whole time. Wasn't it Sherlock Holmes who said that sometimes, the most obvious things are the ones that are the most difficult to find?"
Connie smiled.
"Elementary, my dear Cutter," she bantered flirtatiously.
Mike smiled at her, his dimples on full display.
Connie's smile broadened.
What she wouldn't have given just to wrap him in her arms right then and there. She didn't know it, but Mike was thinking the exact same thing about her.
Just then, there came a knock at the door.
"Come in!" Mike and Connie called at the same time.
One of the interns for the homicide division entered the room.
"Morning, Mr. Cutter—Miss Rubirosa!" she said cheerfully.
"Hi!" Connie said the same time as Mike said, "Morning!"
"Miss Rubirosa, I got the subpoena for the Roderick case all finished," said the intern, handing Connie the document she was holding. "So if you could look it over and all that, that'd be great. I'd really appreciate it."
"Of course!" Connie said. "I'm sure you did a great job, Karen!"
"Thanks!" Karen said brightly. "Hey," she suddenly added. "You guys match. His tie matches your sweater."
Mike and Connie glanced at each other. Indeed, Karen was right. The dark maroon of Mike's tie was identical to the dark maroon of Connie's sweater.
"That's funny—in a cute way," Karen said. "So you'll get back to me, then, about the subpoena?"
"Absolutely," Connie said kindly. "I'll text you, all right?"
"Okay!" Karen said brightly. "Have a great day, Miss Rubirosa—Mr. Cutter!"
"You, too, Karen!" Connie and Mike said the same time.
After Karen left—
Mike turned to Connie.
"Hey—about matching: call me next time, so we can plan it. I don't want to be caught off-guard again," he said with a very endearing smirk.
Connie laughed.
"Yeah, I'll be sure and do that, Mike!" she said, smiling.
Mike smiled at her again.
They held each other's gaze for a moment, then—
"Well—" Connie said, breaking their eye contact by looking down so that he wouldn't see her blushing.
She then opened her file on the Carlisle case.
"So, like I said before—going back to square one to see what we're missing. So," she said, consulting the file, "We only looked at her home life and her husband, which obviously got us nowhere…"
"Right," said Mike. "And Nelson Bryce and his firm commercials are in the clear."
"Mmhm," said Connie. "As are the parents."
"How much have Lupo and Bernard looked into her friends? She could have had an enemy we don't know about," Mike said. "A friend could offer some insight into that."
"True," said Connie.
She picked up her Android and dialed the 2-7.
"Hey, it's Connie," she said. "Have you guys looked into Lucinda Carlisle's friends?...Okay, cool…Oh, all right, great…Okay. You guys have a good one…All right…'Bye!"
"What'd they say?" Mike asked.
"They're way ahead of us," Connie replied. "They're going to go talk to Lucinda's parents again—see if they can give us any useful information about their daughter's social life."
"What about her work life?" asked Mike.
"See, I've been wondering about that, too," said Connie. "Look," she said, showing Mike the specific file on Lucinda. "It says here that she worked for That's a Wrap Theatre Company. That's a nonprofit organization. Now, I remember from my White Collar Bureau days that the typical nonprofit employee doesn't make very much money. It's the whole public servant thing. Now let's look up how much money That's a Wrap spent on staff compensation last year."
Mike followed her over to the table in his office where the two of them often sat and worked.
Connie got on her laptop, and, as he always did when this was the case, Mike stood in close proximity to her and looked over her shoulder. (Of course, Connie didn't mind at all how close he was.)
"?" Mike asked curiously.
"Yeah. It's a database nonprofits can register themselves on if they want. It's like a directory," Connie explained. "Let's see if That's a Wrap Theatre Company is registered."
She typed 'That's a Wrap Theatre Company' into the search bar on the site and waited.
"Oh good, here it is!" she then said.
Her heart began to race when Mike leaned in a little closer.
"All right, let's pull up their Form 990s—those are forms you don't need a subpoena for. They're public information. Since nonprofits are tax exempt, they file 990s with the IRS instead. They'll tell us the organization's major expenses, including how much they spent on employee compensation," she said. "All right…" she muttered, perusing That's a Wrap's most recent Form 990s. "Oh, here we go—they list nine employees…" She scrolled down carefully for a bit. "Here we go," she then said. "So looking at their expenses, it says they spent about two hundred fifty thousand dollars on employee compensation. Do the math, and Lucinda, as an employee who wasn't top management, would have had a salary of roughly twenty-eight thousand."
"Yeah…So what are you getting at?" Mike asked, intrigued.
"Well, Nelson Bryce and his firm—however cheesy the commercials—are some of the most prestigious divorce attorneys in the city, aren't they?" said Connie.
"Yeah," said Mike.
"Mike, with her pay, how was Lucinda affording him? That's been bothering me for a while. It just…doesn't make any sense to me," said Connie.
"Yeah, me neither. That's strange," Mike said pensively.
"You think it's worth looking into? I mean, we don't have any leads," said Connie.
"You're right. I think it is worth looking into," said Mike.
Connie dialed the 2-7 again.
"Hey, Lupo, it's Connie again, sorry to bother you guys so much…Well, Mike and I are wondering: does it strike you and Bernard as odd that someone with Lucinda's income could afford a high-end attorney like Nelson Bryce?...Okay, good. I'll be down at the precinct as soon as I can with a subpoena for her bank records. Go over them as thoroughly as you can, and get back to us…All right, thanks, Lupo…'Bye."
"I bet you're onto something," Mike complimented her.
"Here's hoping," said Connie.