“Let’s interview the employees,” Kellerman said when he was satisfied that nothing of importance to their case had occurred in Armstrong’s office.
Dillon led the way to the conference room, where several people sat around a long table, talking quietly, sipping coffee, or staring at the tabletop. After he introduced the DA, he asked Ken Norquist to follow him to another room.
Norquist was a short, stocky man in his late twenties who was sitting at the far end of the table. The associate wore his blond hair short and sported a trim beard and mustache. He was dressed in a tan suit, white shirt, and tie. The top button of his shirt was undone, and the tie had been pulled down so that the skin at the base of his neck showed. He looked pale and shaky, and sweat beaded his brow.
Dillon led the way to an empty office and closed the door. “Have a seat,” he said.
Norquist sat down and began tapping the toes of his right foot rapidly.
“Are you okay?” Anders asked.
“No. I keep seeing Frank’s head.” He shivered. “I’ve never seen so much blood.”
“Do you want some water?”
Norquist shook his head.
“Mr. Kellerman would like to ask you some questions. Do you feel up to answering them?” Anders asked.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“Can you tell me the last time you saw Mr. Nylander alive?” the prosecutor asked.
“It was four something. I left early to pick up my date for the party. I passed him coming in when I headed out.”
“How did he look?”
“Normal, I guess. Maybe a little distracted. I said hello, but he didn’t answer me.” Norquist shrugged. “I just saw him for a second, though. I thought he’d show up at the restaurant, but he and Doug never made it.”
“Did that surprise you?”
“Yes, it did. We’re not a big firm, and Frank and Doug always show for stuff like this.”
“I notice that you call the partners by their first names.”
Norquist smiled sadly. “Doug and Frank encouraged everyone to be informal. They wanted everyone to work hard but have fun.”
“Did you see Mr. Armstrong last night?”
“No.”
“Why did you come in so early this morning?”
“Doug called me before noon from Seattle and gave me a research project. He said it wasn’t a rush, but I knew he wanted it done as soon as possible. I finished most of it yesterday, but I still wasn’t through when I left. I wanted to get it done first thing.”
“Was Mr. Armstrong in at all this morning?” Kellerman asked.
“Not that I know. I went to his office shortly after I finished my work. He wasn’t there, so I went looking for him.” Norquist took a deep breath. “That’s when I found Frank.”
“You seem to think highly of Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Nylander,” Kellerman said. “Was there anyone in the firm who didn’t like them?”
“Honestly, everyone thought they were great.”
“Were there any former employees who might hold a grudge?”
“I’ve been here three years, and I never heard anyone say anything bad about them.”
“What about the people they sued or represented?” Kellerman asked.
Norquist paused. “You know, recently there was a client who fired Doug.”
“What case was that?” Kellerman asked.
“The rape. That athlete, Hastings. I did a little work on it, so Doug and I talked about Hastings. I think he said something to Doug that scared him.”
“Was Mr. Nylander involved in the case?” Kellerman asked.
“Not that I know.”
“Can you think of anyone else who might have a reason to do this?”
“No, I can’t. I mean, no one likes to be on the losing side of a case, but I can’t remember anyone talking about being afraid of a client or someone we sued.”
“How did Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Nylander get along?” Kellerman asked.
Norquist’s mouth gaped open, and he stared at the prosecutor. “If you’re thinking that Doug… That’s ridiculous. Frank and Doug were like brothers. They did everything together. It was a mutual admiration society.”
“They never argued?” Kellerman asked.
“Well, yeah, about cases. But it wasn’t angry arguing. It was strategy or whether to take on a client. Business stuff.”
“Was the firm doing well?”
“I’m just an associate. But from what I picked up, this was their best year.”
“Do you have any more questions, Rex?” Dillon asked.
“Not now.”
“Have you given a statement already?” Dillon asked Norquist.
“Yes, to one of the officers.”
“Then why don’t you go home. You look pretty upset.”
“Thanks. I really don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.”
Kellerman, Anders, and Dillon talked to the other employees. They all said that the partners were the best of friends, and no one could think of anyone with a grudge against Nylander or Armstrong.
When they were through, Kellerman motioned the detectives into the hallway outside the law office. “Get names and addresses, then send everyone home,” the prosecutor said.
Dillon nodded.
“What do you think?” Kellerman asked. “Could Norquist have killed Nylander this morning when they were alone in the office?”
“I thought of that,” Dillon said, “but he’s a really good actor if that’s what happened.”
“So, who did kill Nylander?” Kellerman asked.
“My gut says it’s a robbery gone wrong,” Dillon said. “Nylander’s wallet, cell phone, watch, and keys are missing. I tried to have his secretary walk through the office to do an inventory, but she lasted two minutes before she ran to the ladies’ room. I’ll have her come back when the body is gone.
“What about Armstrong, Roger?” Kellerman asked. “He and Nylander were the only people in the office after the receptionist left.”
“I don’t know. Every person we talked to said they were best friends.”
Anders chimed in. “If I killed Nylander, I would have made the office look like it had been robbed. Then I would have gone to the party and pretended Nylander was fine when I left.”
“Carrie’s right,” Dillon said. “It doesn’t make sense for Armstrong to run away when he could have deflected suspicion by going to the party.”
“Maybe he panicked,” Kellerman said.
“That doesn’t fit the facts,” Anders said. “If Armstrong killed his partner, he was cool enough to wipe his prints off the murder weapon and mess up the office.”
“There is Blaine Hastings,” Dillon said. “He’s violent, he threatened Armstrong, and he’s out on bail.”
“Okay. Look, I’ve got a court appearance. Why don’t you two go to Armstrong’s house. Then talk to Hastings and Nylander’s wife. Let me know what you find out,” Kellerman said as he rang for the elevator.
Kellerman smiled as soon as the elevator doors closed. Wouldn’t it be great if Doug Armstrong killed his partner and he was the one who sent the wimp away? Rex’s smile widened as he pictured the suffering that would inflict on Marsha Armstrong. Just before the car arrived at the lobby, Kellerman remembered a phrase he thought was from the Bible. Something like, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Armstrongs lived in an early-twentieth-century Tudor home in Portland’s West Hills, one of the city’s premier residential areas. The house was close to the top of the hill and looked out across the city and the river to the mountains. The lawn was manicured, and there was a wide variety of flowers in the garden. Anders spotted rhododendrons, roses, tulips, and some other varieties she couldn’t name.