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Chapter 33: Only Gentlemen, No Ladies
The three detectives exchanged knowing glances.
This psychological tactic was working perfectly.
They appeared oblivious to Old Tom's mounting desperation, settling into their chairs with deliberate slowness. Theodore methodically opened his notebook and spread case files across the table. Bernie even excused himself to fetch three cups of water from the break room.
After ten minutes of calculated delays, Sam finally cleared his throat.
"We found your tools in the utility room at your house."
Theodore slowly emptied the freshly cleaned tools from the paper bag onto the scarred table surface. "After comparison, we've identified the murder weapon that killed Hank."
Bernie sorted through the implements with theatrical precision, selected the pipe wrench, and slid it across the table toward Old Tom.
"Matia has confessed."
Old Tom wasn't listening to their words at all. The tools he normally treasured might as well have been scrap metal, his entire focus remained fixed on his anxiety about Matia's presence at the station.
He kept asking frantically why they'd brought her here, his voice growing more strained with each repetition.
Theodore's voice cut through the man's rambling. "She just confessed everything."
"She told us that when Hank refused the divorce, you two conspired to kill him. Using this pipe wrench." Theodore lifted the tool and let it catch the harsh fluorescent light.
"Matia said she was the one who instructed you to do it."
Old Tom's eyes went vacant. He sagged against the chair back as if the life had drained out of him.
For a moment he sat stunned, then suddenly lunged forward like a wild animal, clawing desperately for the pipe wrench.
"I did it!" he screamed.
"I admit it! I killed that monster!"
"I did it! It has nothing to do with Matia! I did everything! She didn't know anything, I did it all!"
Theodore calmly moved the tool out of reach while Bernie and Sam wrestled Old Tom back down onto the table, his desperate shouts of "I did it!" echoing off the concrete walls.
"All right," Theodore said evenly, "then tell me how you arranged to meet him outside."
Old Tom answered without hesitation, his voice hoarse from shouting. "I told him I'd pay him whatever amount he wanted."
"What time did you agree to meet?"
"Nine o'clock in the evening."
"What did you do after meeting him outside?"
"I hid behind the derrick, waited until I saw him appear, then killed him with the pipe wrench."
"I did it, Matia didn't know anything at all, I swear on my life, I really did it, I swear!"
Theodore shook his head and gestured for the others to release their grip. He gathered the materials from the table and headed for the door.
"Don't go! Don't you dare leave! I did it! I'm confessing! They really don't know anything!"
Old Tom's voice cracked as they filed out.
Bernie whispered as they walked down the hallway, "I don't think he actually did it."
Sam nodded his agreement from the other side.
Theodore ignored them both, opened the door to interrogation room 2, and said simply, "You can leave."
Matia had been listening to the commotion from the adjacent room, preparing to spit in Theodore's face the moment she saw him. But those three words stopped her cold.
Theodore repeated more clearly, "You're free to go."
Matia shot to her feet, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks. She rushed out clutching her child and threw her arms around Old Tom in the hallway.
After escorting the family of three from the building, the case seemed to have hit an impenetrable wall.
Earlier, Theodore had brought Old Tom in and interrogated him for an entire day without results. Today, he'd returned with a woman and infant, only to release all three within ten minutes.
This development sparked considerable discussion throughout the office and eventually caught Captain Wenner's attention.
After Old Tom's family departed, Wenner, who'd been observing from his doorway with arms crossed, beckoned the three detectives over.
"Hit a dead end?" he asked.
In Wenner's office, the rotund captain's tone remained gentle, as if inquiring about the weather.
Bernie and Sam nodded in unison.
Wenner turned his attention to Theodore.
"Excluding Old Tom's crime of passion angle, the case is actually quite straightforward," Theodore mused.
"Oh?" Wenner seemed surprised. He'd assumed they'd reached an impasse and had been mentally preparing an encouraging speech, the kind of motivational talk that every detective in the outer office had heard at some point during their career development.
"Tell me your thoughts."
Theodore considered his words carefully. "I believe Hank's death is connected to those funds from unknown sources."
Wenner nodded encouragingly. "Why?"
Theodore repeated his earlier analysis, concluding with, "We calculated the deceased's legitimate income at around 350 dollars monthly, yet he was spending 700 to 1,000 on gambling alone each month."
"Moreover, there were signs of increased spending before his death."
"This represents a massive financial gap. I think anyone might take desperate risks for that kind of money."
"You're suggesting this was a robbery?" Wenner asked. "The deceased's pockets were empty when we found him."
Theodore shook his head. "He participated in gambling that night. He might have lost everything at the tables."
"I believe his death relates not just to whatever cash he carried, but more likely to the source of his extra income."
Wenner nodded and summarized, "Your instincts are telling you to investigate his funding sources, correct?"
Theodore wanted to explain that he relied on criminal psychology rather than instinct, but he remained silent.
"Then investigate," Wenner declared. "We haven't thoroughly explored that angle before. Maybe you'll uncover new leads."
He fixed Theodore with a serious look. "Every qualified detective develops instincts like yours. They come without apparent reason or basis, but these hunches often guide you toward the truth."
Theodore thought to himself that he relied on criminal psychology, not intuition, but nodded anyway.
Wenner concluded, "Go ahead. Report any new discoveries immediately, and I'll consider reopening the case."
By "reopening," he meant the Homicide Team would reform a special task force and formally re-engage with the investigation.
Watching the three file out, Wenner's expression showed satisfaction. He'd managed to deliver his motivational message after all.
The three split up for their investigations, bank, casino, and oil field respectively.
Returning to the precinct that evening, they found many team members still present, huddled together in animated discussion.
Theodore listened briefly and realized they were talking about Wenner.
That afternoon, someone had observed Cahill's belongings being moved from the Deputy Police Chief's office to the Patrol Department. The speculation was that Chief Weideke no longer trusted Cahill and that Wenner was likely to be promoted to Deputy Police Chief.
The group maintained an air of secrecy even as they prepared to leave for the day, but each officer gave Theodore an encouraging thumbs-up as they passed.
After most of the office had emptied, leaving only the usual night shift workers, the three reconvened to share their findings.
Theodore had visited the bank, where he'd obtained account statements for most of the oil field workers from the manager.
In exchange for the manager's assistance in reviewing these financial records, Theodore had signed autographs all over the manager's young son's T-shirt and opened a new account at the bank.
He relayed the manager's analysis: "Except for a worker named Billy, everyone else shows normal banking patterns."
"How is Billy abnormal?" Bernie and Sam asked simultaneously.
Theodore consulted his handwritten notes. "Since opening his account two years ago, Billy has consistently deposited 200 dollars monthly. Starting in February this year, the month after Hank's death, his deposits doubled."
"His account currently holds over ten thousand dollars in deposits."
Theodore closed his notebook. "This doesn't look like money an oil field worker could legitimately earn."
"The bank manager mentioned that Billy always comes to deposit on the 9th, payday."
Sam, who'd investigated the casino, produced a list and pointed to a circled name.
"According to casino personnel, Billy entered their watch list starting in February."
Bernie explained for Theodore's benefit: "Small casinos like this typically set low limits. When customers frequently exchange chips exceeding that threshold, they're closely monitored."
"They'll approach these customers, offer benefits, try to encourage higher spending."
Sam nodded. "Their basic limit is 50 dollars. Billy had never exchanged more than 50 in chips before February."
"Starting that month, his chip purchases suddenly jumped to 100 dollars."
"And his visits were no longer limited to payday." Sam flipped through his notebook. "Last month alone, Billy went three times."
He concluded, "The casino remembers him clearly because Billy only ever exchanges exactly 100 dollars in chips per visit."
When Bernie's turn came, he stood with theatrical flair and announced solemnly:
"Ladies and gentlemen..."
Theodore interrupted from the side: "Only gentlemen, no ladies."
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