Whodunit?

WHODUNIT?

Detective Terry Waits looked at the man sitting across the table from her. She was pretty sure this was bullshit—no one was going to confess— but she’d do her job and follow through to whatever conclusion the evidence led her. She set out her notebook and pen. Yes, the interview was being recorded but the notebook’s benefit was two-fold. First, it allowed her to write down and remember points that she could circle back during the interview. And secondly, she found that some suspects were intimidated by the fact that she was writing down what they said in real time—it unnerved them, and sometimes they said things they shouldn’t have. Was it fair? Maybe, maybe not. But she did honestly use the information stored in her little black book to conduct her interviews, so, who’s to say? Old habits die hard.

“This interview is being recorded,” she said. “The date is July 25, 2026. The time is twelve-thirty Present at this interview are Detective Terry Waits, Detective Carlos Ito, and Dan Esposito, interviewee.”

She looked at Dan. “I am going to read you your rights, now.”

Dan looked surprised. “Do I need a lawyer?”

Waits smiled. “It’s completely up to you. If you want a lawyer, please let us know. Do you want a lawyer?”

Ben shook his head.

“Please answer verbally.”

“No, I don’t want a lawyer.”

“Okay.” She paused, and took out a small laminated piece of cardstock, and read Dan his legal rights. “Daniel Esposito, we are here today to discuss the murder of your wife, Carla Esposito, and her companion Owen Picard. You are not being charged with anything at this point in time. We understand and appreciate the fact that you have come to this interview voluntarily.” She paused. “You have he right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. We can provide you with a toll-free telephone number to call a legal aid duty lawyer right now. If you want to call your own lawyer, you can do that as well. You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand your rights?” she finished, looking up a Dan.

“Uh, I do?” He looked from Waits to Ito, back to Waits, his fingers drumming on the metal tabletop.

Waits smiled. “Mr. Esposito, you didn’t sound too sure of your answer,” she said. “Do you understand your rights?”

Dan took a deep breath. “Yeah, I understand them.”

Waits nodded her head, and said, “Thank you.” She tucked her rights card back into the rear flap of her notebook. “So, Mr. Esposito, we’ve been able to unequivocally determine that the deaths of your wife Carl Esposito and Mr. Own Picard was murder. They died when the car they were driving in exploded. Do you know anything about that?”

Ben shook his head, then remembering to speak out loud, said, “No. Nothing more than what you told me, and what I saw online.”

Waits nodded her head. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?”

Dan leaned back and shook his head. “No. Not really.”

“Why do you say ‘not really?’ Do you know something that would help in our investigation?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Dan shrugged. “She was a criminal defence lawyer. Some of her clients were … difficult.”

“What do you mean by ‘difficult?’”

Dan Esposito ran his hands through his hair. “Well, one of her last cases was for this biker, Petey Paquette. He was a patched member of The Vagabonds motorcycle gang, second in command. Police arrested him in the firebombing and death of a member of Satan’s Choice, a rival motorcycle gang. I can’t remember the guy’s name.” He paused. “Anyway, Carla took his case, but she lost. There was video evidence, witnesses, cell phone data, and GPS tracking. He apparently tried to intimidate the witnesses, who reported him to police, which added more charges. The case was a loser right from the beginning. He was found guilty. When the jury read their verdict, he lost his mind. He started screaming, telling Carla he was going to kill her, that his bros had his back, that she was a dead woman walking. Her firm hired security for her, and the police made extra patrols by our house.”

“When was that?” asked Waits.

“The trial ended about a month ago. She got hang-up calls on her personal cell and the office phone. Security clocked some dudes hanging around the office on their bikes, but that was right after the verdict. Eventually they stopped showing up. Carla figured it was just posturing—you know, macho intimidation bullshit.” He stopped and looked down at the table. “Maybe she was wrong.”

“Do you think this Petey Paquette had anything to do with the death of your wife and Mr. Picard?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head slightly. “I have no idea. He’s in prison.” He paused. His eyes filled up. “I don’t know anyone who would want to kill Carla.”

Waits tilted her head. “But she was divorcing you. And she was leaving you for Owen Picard, your friend.”

Ben shrugged again. “You don’t kill someone because they want a divorce.”

Waits nodded her head, and wrote something in her notebook. “Mr. Esposito, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a partner and construction site manager for McKnight-Esposito Construction. We’re a residential building company, focussing on affordable housing.”

“Mr. Esposito, do you have access to explosives in your job?”

Ben pulled his head back in shock. “Sure. We’re a construction company, but there are a boatload of rules, regulations, and licenses that we need. Every time we use an explosive, we have to reconcile it with the government. No exceptions.” He tapped his fingertips on the tabletop to the tempo of his words. “There is literally no way to game the system.” He looked at them. “You can search our sites, and our explosive storage bunkers, and our logs. We legally cannot have explosives that are not being used for a specific job. Every gram is accounted for.”

Waits wrote something in her book. “Are you personally licensed to handle explosives?” she asked, looking up at Ben.

“Yes,” he said. Waits wrote again.

“When was the last time you personally used explosives?”

Ben looked up towards the ceiling. “About a year ago. We were building on bedrock, and we needed to blast the foundation for a forty unit apartment building.”

“Nothing since then?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Other than inventory, and the last inspection, no.”

Waits wrote that down. “If you could supply us with the paperwork to verify that, we would appreciate it.”

No problem.” Ben took out his phone, and made a note to himself.

“I know this is hard, but did you know that Mrs. Esposito was involved with Mr. Picard—before last night?”

Ben chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t know. Maybe?” He looked up. “She was acting weird.” He paused. “Maybe I knew something was up, but maybe I didn’t want to give it a name.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know it was Owen.” He paused, looking down, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. “That was a shock.”

“How long were you and Mrs. Esposito married?”

“Twelve years. This was a second marriage for both of us.”

Waits wrote something down. “You were divorced?” she asked.

Ben shook his head. “Widowed. Alicia died nine years ago. We were only married for seven months before she drowned.”

That piqued Waits interest—another dead wife. “Where was that?”

“Cabo. She was at a bachelorette party for her friend Bethany Poe. The boat they were all in crashed. Alicia, Bethany and their friend Amanda all died.” His eyes filled up again. “It was horrible,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry for you loss,” said Waits. She smiled sympathetically, then continued. “What about Mrs. Esposito’s former husband? Any problems there?

“With Spencer? No. He’s never been part of our life together. I think he’s working in the Middle East somewhere. He’s a bigwig with one of the oil companies. I don’t think Carla’s spoken with him in years.”

She shut her notebook. “That should do it for me, ” Then he looked over at Ito. “Any questions?” she asked him.

“Just one.” He paused. “Mr Esposito, did you love your wife?”

Ben looked taken aback. “I … I …” he stammered. Then he looked at them. “I used to. But that was a long time ago.”

*****

Detective Waits looks across at Nina Picard. Waits had read her her rights, asked specifically about a lawyer, and started the recording the interview.

“Thank you for coming in today, Mrs. Picard. You remember my partner, Detective Ito?”

“Hello,” said Nina nodding towards Ito. “You have some more questions for me?” she asked.

Waits smiled. “We do.”

Nina smiled at Waits. “Fire away,” she said, hands folded in her lap. Waits noticed how calm she looked—she wasn’t sure that she would be this calm if someone had blown up her husband with a car bomb the night before.

“Mrs Picard, the deaths of your husband and Mrs. Esposito have been determined to be murder. It was definitely a remotely triggered car bomb that killed them both. Probably a cell phone.” Waits watched Nina for her reaction to the news. There was none. “Mrs. Picard, do you know anyone who would want to murder your husband Owen or Mrs. Esposito?” Waits watched and waited for an answer.

Nina looked at Waits. Finally, she said. “I can’t imagine anyone would want to kill either of them.” She looked at Ito then back to Waits. “Owen was an ordinary man, with an ordinary job, and an ordinary life. Other than the fact that he was sleeping with my best friend, he was typical. He was an accountant.”

“Was he having any problems at work? Anyone threatening him, or problems with the company’s finances?”

Nina shock her head. “I’m a forensic accountant. Owen’s company hires me occasionally to look over the accounts, and I never found a problem.” She looked around the room, her eyes settling on nothing. “Owen is the comptroller. The firm is a medium-sized manufacturing firm. There are six of them in the office. Owen never talked about any problems with anyone. They aren’t close, but they worked together well.” She looked from Ito to Waits. “I don’t think this had anything to do with Owen’s job.”

Waits wrote something in her book. “Did Mr. Picard have any problems with friends, neighbours, acquaintances?”

Nina shook her head. “No, nobody. Except maybe Ben and me, I guess. But up until last night, everything seemed fine. He’s easy to get along with. Pretty even-tempered.”

“Did you know that your husband and best friend were having an affair?” asked Waits.

Nina blew out a breath. “Maybe? I didn’t know with who, but I was pretty sure something was going on—new gym membership, but he showered before he went to the gym, and then after the gym when he got home.” She looked up at Waits. “Who does that?” she asked and paused, gathering her thoughts. “Ben told me Carla said the affair had been going on since New Year’s Eve. That’s almost seven months.” She paused, shaking her head. “I should have known. Or at least asked him why his gym clothes were never sweaty, even though he professed to be working out three or four times a week.” She paused again. “Different kind of workout, I guess.” Nina crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling, trying to get her breathing under control.

Waits bent over and took a tablet out of her bag at her feet. “This is the CCTV footage from the pub from last night while you were there. This is at seven forty-four, fifty-three minutes after you arrived.” She played the video. “I see you took your phone out, pushed a button, then dropped it back into your pocket.” She looked at Nina. “What did you do on your phone Mrs. Picard?”

Nina looked from the screen to Waits. “Silenced an alarm,” she said.

“An alarm for what?”

Nina reached into her jacket pocket, and took out her phone—the same phone captured in the video. She punched in a couple of buttons, and turned the screen towards Waits. “It’s an alarm for Owen’s statins. He has high cholesterol, and needs to take five milligrams of Crestor daily. He always forgets. I set the alarm so I could remind him.”

Waits wrote something in her notebook, then looked at Nina. “Mrs. Picard, did you plant the bomb that killed your best friend and your husband.

Nina’s head jolted back like she’d been slapped. “No, I didn’t plant the bomb. I wouldn’t even know where to get a bomb. And I didn’t kill anyone. I’m angry and really, really pissed off at two dead people, but I had nothing to do with the bombing.” She looked at Waits, and for the first time, Waits saw real emotion in her eyes. “I could not kill my children’s father. I’m not a monster.”

“Then why is your husband dead?”

Nina shook her head, and threw up her arms. “I don’t know. Collateral damage, maybe? Carla could have been the target—it was her car that blew up, not Owen’s.”

“That’s about it for now, Mrs. Picard.” She turned to Ito. “Any questions?”

“Yes. How long have you and Mr. Esposito been having an affair?

Nina looked from one detective to the other. Her eyes bulged and her face paled. “We’re … we’re not involved,” she stammered. “We’re just friends.”

*****

Waits and Ito sat at their desks looking at each of the interview recordings.

“Well?” said Waits.

Ito shook his head. “I don’t get much of a murder vibe off of either of them.”

“But … “

“Cars don’t blow themselves up. Someone had to have planted the bomb that killed Picard and Esposito. But who?”

Waits nodded her head, tapping her pen on the desk top. “That’s the million dollar question.” She pulled out her black notebook, and flipped through the pages. “So, who had motive, means, and opportunity?”

They both thought for a moment, then Ito said, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “I’m looking at probably six potential suspects. Nina Picard. Ben Esposito. Picard and Esposito together. The Vagabonds. Another disgruntled client of Esposito’s. Something to do with Picard’s job.”

Waits added, “And number seven—someone we haven’t considered yet. But let’s stick with your six, for now,” she said.

Ito nodded, and started to speak. “Nina Picard. Motive—Dan was leaving her for her best friend—double motive. Means—I’m not sure. She doesn’t have any explosives knowledge, unless we search her phone and see that she’s downloaded a copy of Car Bombs for Dummies. She did do something on her phone—alarm maybe But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t a trigger on there as well—we need to get access to her phone. Opportunity—unless she knew about the affair before hand, she was either with her husband or at the pub on CCTV until after the explosion, but she could have planted it earlier in the day.”

Waits nodded. “She’s sort of low right on the suspect list, unless we find out something to change that. She could have hired someone. We’ll have to take a close look at her financials—she’s a forensic accountant, and would know where and how to hide transactions. She also still refers to Owen in the present tense. She hasn’t wrapped her head around the fact he’s dead.”

Ito nodded and continued. “Dan Esposito. Motive—same as Nina Picard’s. Means—he’s a lot higher on the means list than Picard—construction access to explosives, expertise.”

“We’ll have to check his logs and licenses at work,” said Waits, writing something in her book.

“He’s higher on the opportunity scale as well,” continued Ito. “He could have planted the bomb before he arrived the victims left the pub. He didn’t arrive until after Carla and Picard left. We should check the cameras from surrounding businesses, see if he tampered with her car.” He tapped the monitors showing the interviews, side-by-side. “But, put the two of them together, and we have a pretty strong case. They’re both pissed off, and may be having an affair of their own. We need to check their financials, to see who benefits. And together they could have made the bomb and planted it.”

Waits nodded. “I agree. So, who can be drop to the bottom of the list?”

“Lowest would be Picard’s job, but money always makes people do stupid things. We’ll have to verify what Nina told us, but unless there was something else, it’s pretty unlikely.” He paused. “Same with Carla’s job—other than the Vagabonds. But her job is a higher threat than his. And it was her car. We have to interview the people at her office, and see if there were any other threats.”

“Mercer, Esposito, Kline Law. I’ll set up an appointment,” said Waits.

Ito thought for a second. “That leaves the Vagabonds. If he wasn’t in jail, I’d be very interested in Petey Paquette.” Ito looked at Waits. “We should check and make sure that he’s still incarcerated, not out on appeal or anything stupid like that. And check with Guns and Gangs, and see if there’s been any chatter about a hit on a lawyer. Vengeance seems to run deep in the pathos of bikers. And they are known for blowing each other up.” Both detectives remembered the biker wars from the 1990s—over eighty bombings and a hundred and thirty cases of arson in a hellish turf war that killed over one hundred and sixty people.

“We’ve got a lot of detecting to do!” said Waits, slapping her her notebook shut. “And that’s why they pay us the big bucks. Let’s go find out whodunit.”