“Probably a portion of her salary,” I said.
“Theobold said her take-home was around four, so she probably banked three, took out a grand for expenses. Looks like it didn’t change during the time she worked at
Starkweather. Which makes sense. Her civil service job classification puts her at a comparable salary.”
“Frugal,” I said. “How’d she pay her bills? And her tax Is there a checking account?”
He found it seconds later, in the same drawer. “Mont deposits of five hundred… last Friday of the month-sa day she deposited into the savings account. The woman w; clock…. Looks like she wrote mostly small check probably household stuff…. Maybe she had a credit c; paid the rest of her bills in cash. So she kept five hundrei so around the house. Or in her purse. To some junkie i could be a sizable score. And the purse hasn’t been found But this doesn’t feel like robbery, does it.”
I said, “No. Still, people have been killed for a lot less. Without her purse, how’d you identify her?”
“Car registration gave us her name. We ran her pri matched them to her psychologist’s license…. A sti junkie robbery, wouldn’t that be something? She’s out si ping, gets mugged for her cash. But what junkie muj would bother stashing her in trash bags, driving her to a Sœ public spot, and leaving her car behind, when he could 1 thrown her somewhere dark, gotten himself some wheel; the night? Then again, most criminals take stupid pills. Okay, let’s see what else she left behind.”
He got to work on the rest of the desk. The money sho up in a plain white envelope, pushed to the back of the hand bottom drawer. Nine fifty-dollar bills, under a b
leatherette appointment book issued as a gift by a drug c pany. Three-year-old calendar, blank pages in the book.
“So maybe she had fifty or so with her,” he said. ‘ spender. This does not feel like robbery.”
I asked him for the bankbook, examined every page.
“What?” he said.
“So mechanical. Exact same pattern, week in, week No sizable withdrawals also means no vacations or predictable splurges. And no deposits other than her si implies she got no alimony, either. Unless she put it ir other account. Also, she maintained her individual ace throughout her marriage. What about her tax return? Die file jointly?”
He crossed the room to the cardboard file box. Inside were two years of state and federal tax returns, neatly ordered. “No outside income other than salary, no dependents other than herself… nope, individual return. Something’s off. It’s like she was denying being married.”
“Or she had doubts from the beginning.”
He came up with a stack of stapled paper, started flipping. “Utility bills… Ah, here’s the credit card…. Visa… She charged food, clothing, gasoline for the
Buick, and books…. Not very often-most months there’re only three, four charges…. She paid on time, too. No interest.”
At the bottom of the stack were auto insurance receipts. Low premium for no smoking and good driving record. No financing on the Buick meant she probably owned the car.
No way for her to know it would end up being a coffin on wheels.
Milo scribbled notes and placed the paper back in the carton. I thought of what we hadn’t found: mementos, photographs, correspondence, greeting cards. Anything personal.
No property tax receipts or deductions for property tax. If she rented, why no record of rent checks?
I raised the question. Milo said, “So maybe the ex paid the mortgage and taxes.
Maybe that was his alimony.”
“And now that she’s gone, he’s off the hook. And if he’s maintained some ownership of the house, there’s a bit of incentive for you. Any idea who gets the two hundred forty? Any will show up?”
“Not yet. So you like the husband?”
“I’m just thinking about what you always tell me. Follow the money.”
He grunted. I returned to the bookcase, pulled a few books out. Foxed pages, neatly printed notes in margins. Next to five years’ worth of Brain was a collection of journal reprints.
Articles Claire Argent had authored. A dozen studies, all related to the neuropsychology of alcoholism, funded by the National Institutes of Health. The writing was clear, the subject matter repetitive. Lots of technical terms, but I got the gist.