Chapter 4Julien’s townhouse
Thursday, last week in June
“Hello?”
“Richard?”
“Yes…”
“This is Bill Lutz.”
“Hi, what can I do for you?”
“Where are you?”
“I left last night to go to Manhattan to start my new job.” Richard heard a gruff voice in the background.
Julien mouthed, “Put it on speaker.” Richard pushed the button.
“Richard Kerrigan?”
“Who is this please?”
“This is Detective Chester Stawski. Davilor Kasun was murdered last night. Where were you last night at eleven?”
His gut clenched. “Uh, I was in the air on a private plane on its way from O’Hare to La Guardia with about sixty-four other people. I didn’t like Davilor Kasun, but I didn’t murder him,” Richard said in consternation.
“Do you have a ticket stub?” The officer was persistent.
“I was on a private plane, but the
