Guilty or Not. Alice Zogg

Guilty or Not - Alice Zogg


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know Jasmine Dewitt beforehand?”

      Rachel momentarily drew a blank with the name. Then she said, “Oh, you mean the bimbo? No, I’d never seen her before.”

      “How about earlier? Were there other indiscretions on Steven’s part during your relationship?”

      “Steven made no secret of the fact that he had a long, sordid past where women were concerned. Stupid me, I believed that he’d left that all behind...”

      Rachel became silent and stared into space with that blank, passive look of hers.

      Huber waited, seemingly having all the time in the world.

      Rachel looked around the room, focusing briefly on the French Country art prints hanging on the wall she faced, and then fixed her gaze on the chess figures set up at one end of the desk.

      She remarked, “You have an exquisite chess set here.”

      Huber thought, aha. This young woman is not as oblivious as she seems.

      Aloud she said, “Thanks, the set holds special memories for me: I inherited it from my father.”

      The detective in Huber needed to get to the gist of the matter, so she said, “I know that you went back to Steven’s house the next day to pack your things. Who let you in?”

      “I still had a key and let myself in.”

      “So you were alone in the house?”

      “No, being a Thursday, Rufina, the housekeeper, was there.”

      “Did you talk to her?”

      “Sure, she offered to help me, but I preferred being left alone. So I packed my bags and boxes, made a few trips to the car and back, left my key in the foyer, and was out of the place for good.”

      “You had no furniture in the house belonging to you?”

      “We had selected the furnishings together, but Steven paid for it all. None of it belonged to me. The pile of wedding presents stood unopened in a spare room, and of course the gifts are all being returned. I went to the backyard, though, and dug up my herb garden, taking the plants home to Monrovia.”

      “Why did you do that?”

      “My herb garden was my pride and joy - - still is - - and I had accumulated plenty of exceptional plants and didn’t want them to go to waste.”

      “I see.”

      Then Huber studied her carefully as she asked, “Did you do anything to the oleander bush in the yard?”

      Rachel kept quiet, reassuming her impassive demeanor.

      “Do you know where Steven Moretti kept his loose leaf tea?”

      “Of course. I lived in the same house. He kept it in an airtight tea canister on the kitchen counter.”

      “Did he add anything to his tea as a rule?”

      Rachel gave her a blank stare.

      “What I’d like to know is, did he take sugar, milk, or maybe lemon with his tea?”

      “He added honey.”

      “Did you ever drink any yourself?”

      “I prefer coffee.”

      “What about the oleander in the backyard?” Huber repeated. “Did you go near it on that day?”

      Again, Rachel gave no answer and stared straight ahead, ignoring the question.

      Huber had a great urge to take the woman by the shoulders and shake her violently. She resisted the temptation and instead raised her voice and snapped her fingers ten inches in front of the other ’s face, insisting, “Tell me about the oleander plant in the garden!”

      At last, Rachel looked Huber in the eye and murmured, “I knew that oleander is poisonous and thought; what if - -?”

      There followed a long pause while Huber reflected on the meaning of the “what if” aspect.

      She finally asked, “Did you make use of that knowledge?”

      Rachel did not seem to grasp the significance of that question and once more retreated into her own world, never snapping out of it until Huber concluded the interview.

      CHAPTER 7

      The Hubers enjoyed a leisurely evening at their home, relaxing in the living room on their respective recliners. Peter immersed himself in one of his colleague’s work of fiction, while Regula played games on her Nintendo DS.

      She suddenly exclaimed, “I beat my own Big Brain top score!”

      Peter looked over at her and said, “You’re a kid at heart! I’m always amazed at your enthusiasm when playing games.”

      “Well, this one not only helps me think clearly but also makes my brain react at a fast pace. Both abilities come in handy in detective work.”

      Peter laughed out loud. “As long as you have a good excuse!”

      Then he inserted the bookmark into the current page of his read, closed it, and said, “Tell me about your interview with the accused murderess.”

      R. A. Huber had learned long ago that she benefited from discussing her cases with Peter. On top of appreciating him as a good listener, she valued his input. Having the talk with Rachel Penrose fresh on her mind, she related all of it to him.

      Peter paid keen attention and when her narrative ended, he thought about it for a moment before asking, “Do you think her tuning in and out was all an act?”

      “It seemed genuine, but I could be wrong. She reminded me of a child who, although not admitting to any wrong doing, is ready to take the punishment.”

      “So you believe that she’s guilty?”

      “Not necessarily. She may feel guilty without having committed the crime. On the other hand, she may well be responsible for the killing.”

      “You’re making no sense, Regula.”

      “I know; I’m expressing myself badly. The truth is; I haven’t sorted things out yet in my own mind.”

      Peter said, “Considering her education and job, she sounds like an intelligent person. She must be aware of the consequences if a jury finds her guilty. Why then doesn’t she assert her innocence? When you asked her about the oleander bush, for instance, why didn’t she simply state that she hadn’t cut off any leaves to poison Moretti with?”

      “Why indeed?” his spouse replied.

      Then Peter remarked, “Statistically, poison is a female’s choice of weapon.”

      “Yes, I know. But then, a potential killer might have been aware of that statistic too if he wanted to frame Rachel with that oleander business.”

      “So you think she may have been set up?”

      Regula shrugged and said, “There is so much more information I need to gather before I can form an opinion on that.”

      Peter remarked, “Come to think of it, the oleander plant is not uncommon. I’ve seen it on median strips of California highways.”

      “What does it look like?”

      “It’s a shrub with attractive white or pinkish-red blossoms.”

      “I may have seen it without knowing what kind of plant I was looking at.”

      Then she got back to her main subject and said, “The interview frustrated me in a lot of ways, but I also learned a few interesting things about Rachel and her late fiancé. The pair even has something in common with us.”

      “Such as?”

      “Skiing the black diamonds at Mammoth.”

      “That’s


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