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?“And you went back to that room again?” asked DeStadler.
?“Yes, on Friday. Since the police hadn’t asked me about the cameo and I couldn’t locate it anywhere else, I thought it could be in her room. Instead, I found Ms. Homes and Mr. Watkins.” Winsley pointed at me and then at Mark.
?DeStadler gave a quick dirty look to me. “We are aware they were there.”
?“So,” Winsley stressed, “I may not have reported Candy’s murder, but I had nothing to do with it.”
?“Yet,” I urged, “you had Norm Blake make a duplicate cameo for you.”
?“People kept asking why I wasn’t wearing mine. I decided it would be best if I had one. After all, Mr. Blake is a skilled craftsman.”
?“I didn’t know it had anything to do with murder,” Norm blurted. “She told me it had gotten lost when she strolled through Central Park.”
?“And you, Mr. Blake,” I strode over to where the man sat. “You saw Mr. Watkins on Wednesday, the first day of the conference, is that correct?”
?“Yeah—uh—yes, he came by my booth,” Norm gulped.
?“And while he was there, he examined a pipe?”
?“Yeah, sure, the Calabash,” Norm agreed. “But he had another one, showed it to me and everything.”
?“And what happened to your pipe?” I insisted.
?“I don’t know. Cliff handled the sales. We either sold it or put it away.”
?“We will want to check,” DeStadler grunted.
?I nodded. “Allen—”
?“Me? What?” Allen responded, and sat up straight in his chair.
?“Of everyone in this room, you have the strongest motive. For years, you have claimed Mark stole your ideas, and I have rebuffed your advances more than once.”
?“Rebuffed?” he repeated as if unsure of the word. “Look, that was just flirting—no big deal.”
?“Oh really?” I yanked another page from the folder. “But you also had accounts with Randall.”
?“He was helping me with my retirement.”
?“However, you had a few setbacks?”
?“Hey, the market changes,” he dismissed. “A few ups and downs. Randall assured me that in the long run I would come out ahead.”
?“Despite anything he told you,” she said as she pulled a page from the folder in her hand. “According to financial statements we found, he transferred a portion of your money slowly out of your account. Over time, it amounted to ten thousand dollars.”
?“What?”
?“As it turns out, Randall was skimming the accounts of most of his customers.”
?“Why, that dirty bastard!” Allen stood up. “I’ll kill him—”
?Allen suddenly realized what he said and quietly returned to his seat.
?“I mean, I’ll sue his ass,” Allen mumbled.
?Detective DeStadler marched over to Allen’s chair. “You wanna tell me your whereabouts on Wednesday night around midnight?”
?Allen looked up at the policeman as he hovered over him. “I was here, in the hotel.”
