“From what we know, someone sent a box of poisoned chocolates to Mr. Moser. He’s on a diet so he gave the candy to Mrs. Randall, who ate some and died.”
“My God. Do you have any idea who sent them?”
“No. Do you? Can you think of someone with a grudge against Mr. Moser or Mrs. Randall?”
The judge went quiet and the detectives let him think. After a few minutes, Crawford’s brow furrowed and they could tell he’d thought of something.
“One person does come to mind.”
“Who’s that?” Quinlan asked.
“There’s a man named Robert Chesterfield, an ex-memberwho resigned under pressure. He’d been cheating at cards, accosting the female staff. It was pretty sordid. Sam and I confronted him and he threatened Sam.”
“That’s the only name Mr. Moser could come up with. He told us that Mr. Chesterfield and a Mr. Gentry were courting a Lily Dowd and mentioned that Mr. Gentry died shortly before Chesterfield and Dowd married. Do you know anything about that?”
“My wife is a friend of Lily’s and she might know something of use.”
“I’d like to talk to her.”
“I’ll set up a meeting.”
“I have a question,” Peter Ragland interjected. “Were there ever any rumors about Sam and Sophie?”
“What type of rumors?” the judge asked, although it was obvious from his facial expression that he knew exactly what the deputy district attorney was getting at.
“Were they having an affair?”
“You’re way off track with that.”
Ragland shrugged. “I’ve got to ask. If something was going on and she was calling it off or threatening to tell Sam’s wife, there’s a scenario where Moser sends the candy to himself, then gives the box to Sophie under the pretext of being on a diet.”
“No, no, Pete. I’ve been to Sam’s house and seen him at social occasions. He’s been married for twenty-plus years. He talks glowingly about his wife all the time. And Sophie has… had an equally happy marriage. She doted on her husband and their daughter.”
“Okay. Good to know.”
“Can I ask you a question, Judge Crawford?” Roger interjected.
“This is Roger Dillon, my new partner. This is his first homicide case.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Crawford said. “Listen to DetectiveQuinlan. He’s one of the bright spots in the bureau. Now, what did you want to know?”
“Is Mr. Chesterfield really British and from London?”
“That’s what he claims. Why?”
“Just an idea. Can you tell me anything more about his background?”
“Sorry, but I don’t know him well. For that matter, I don’t think any of the members did.”
Crawford left and Quinlan turned to his partner. “What’s your idea?”
“I met a Scotland Yard inspector at a conference a year ago. I thought I’d give him a ring to see if he knows anything about Chesterfield. He seems to be our only lead.”
“I’m not so sure about Moser,” Ragland said. “He seemed a little melodramatic. It could be he was putting on an act.”
“I didn’t get that impression, Pete. His grief seems genuine,” Quinlan said. Dillon could tell that his partner was restraining himself.
“Yeah, well, he could be a good actor. Let’s not cross him off our list yet.”