by Douglas Hall
West smiled. He was beginning to like Sheriff Virgil Culpepper.
“Jayden, Virgil here,” began Culpepper, "Sarah is tolerable, thanks for asking, and Rebecca? Delighted to hear it. Now here is the reason for my call. I have a visitor from Canada who would like to drop by first thing tomorrow morning with his partner to have a word with you.
“He’s a private investigator, and he’ll be accompanied by his partner who is a Canadian police inspector.” Culpepper listened to the response then said, “I’ll let Mr King fill you in, but from what he tells me, there is more than sufficient reason for him and his partner to come all way down from Canada to talk to you.” Culpepper winked at West. “I would appreciate it if you would give our two visitors a Moody Brook welcome and answer their questions.” Culpepper sighed deeply, "Of course, I have validated who they are, Jayden. I had a long conversation with the Canadian chief of police and they have excellent credentials.
“They are investigating the two years old disappearance of a young girl, and I assured them that a missing young girl would get top priority from my office. Splendid, Jayden, I knew I could count on you. Just wondering have you heard how Pastor Sammy is doing after all these years?”
Culpepper stroked his moustache, and made a face at West, “I heard that a while back but it had completely slipped my mind. I thank you for refreshing it. Of course, it would be Pastor Paul who told you. Well, thank you, Jayden, and give my regards to Rebecca.”
Culpepper inhaled deeply and said, “According to Jayden, Pastor Sammy is in a Florida retirement home and, evidently, very well although he is getting on in years.”
“What does he have to say about his son?” West asked.
“I asked him once if he and Pastor Paul were friends, and he said he sees him the first of every month when he comes to town to do his banking. Now I have a question for you. Moody Brook is a law-abiding town, and I don’t like people running around with guns. Will you and your partner be carrying firearms?”
“Yes, I am carrying a shoulder and ankle revolver, and Inspector King will be carrying his police issue. We are both licensed to carry them. I have a letter from the chief of police, and it got me through security. Want to see it?”
Culpepper shook his head, “The fact that you have one is good enough for me.”
“Anything else I can help you with?”
“Have you ever heard of Child Waiting? Have a look at this. It’s one of their brochures the girl had in her possession before she went missing.”
Culpepper looked at the brochure and stroked his moustache then said slowly, “We call it pamphlet, but if memory serves, I have never heard of Child Waiting, but then memory doesn’t always serve. Put that question to Jayden when you see him tomorrow. Tell me. I have never heard of a police inspector hooking up with a private investigator with a chief’s approval to work on a cold case. How did that come about?”
Culpepper was asking a lot of questions and West was only, too, pleased to answer them but in typical fashion he used his questioning skills to gain more information than he was giving. “After a long drawn out investigation by Inspector King, the missing girl case went cold. It wasn’t often that an investigation by him ended up a cold case. He is one of the most successful investigators in the department, and he was frustrated beyond belief especially when he was pulled off the case and assigned to a new homicide investigation. It was at this point that Victor Madison, the girl’s father, who is a prominent man in the financial world came to me with an open wallet. He asked me to find his missing daughter and the first person I contacted was my former partner who was more than happy to give me everything he had on the case. Fortunately, I am still well-known to the chief and reported to him when he was a staff sergeant before a bad guy took a shot at me and I forgot to duck. It ended my police career, and I became a private investigator to keep the wolf from the door, as they say. I was making some headway when Inspector King told the chief what I had come up with and being engaged by the girl’s father. He reopened the case and assigned him to work with me.”
“That’s more or less what he told me, but I wanted to hear it from you,” Culpepper said.
West put the brochure back in his briefcase case and stood up. Extending his hand which was accepted he said, “I shall bring Inspector King around to meet you in the morning after we have been to the bank and give you a full report. What you have told me will be invaluable.”
Culpepper walked West to the front door and held it open. “It is always a pleasure to help visiting investigators, especially those who are trying to unite a missing girl with her family.”
The words flowed like warm molasses.
“All we can do is do our best, and with your help, we just may succeed. I know you will find Inspector King an able and experienced officer.”
Seven
WEST AND KING made the most of the drive from Chattanooga to Moody Brook doing what they did best when they had private time during an investigation. They conducted a full review of all evidence since the moment King became the lead investigator in the missing person’s case up to West accepting Madison’s lucrative offer to find his daughter. West was just concluding telling King about his meeting with Culpepper as he turned onto the driveway of the Black Bear Motel and followed it to the cabin Mandy had booked for them. Both men bonded early in their careers and had profound respect for each other. Neither was dominate and accepted each another’s suggestions, sometimes following healthy exchanges. Privately, they led separate lives and seldom socialised in off hours. King was a married man and able to leave his work at the office, regardless of the hour he quit and headed home to his family.
King’s marriage was solid and unlike many police marriages survived because he married an ex-copper who was working in vice when they met. She understood and accepted the pressures facing a police officer from the moment they reported for roll call until they quit for the day or many times long into the night. West’s wife had great difficulty adjusting to his erratic hours, and shift changes, that either saw him on duty during the evening or long into the night. The last-minute cancellation of plans for an evening out, or postponed vacations, had an impact she that finally couldn’t handle. They divorced two years before his forced retirement but still remained friends. Thankfully, there were no children. The closest he came to a relationship was with Mandy but didn’t pursue it as he knew the dangers of mixing work with pleasure. By mutual understanding, they kept their business/friendship strictly platonic.
Back in the cabin, after dinner in the motel café, they finished their run through of the investigation. Turning their focus on the next day, West outlined how he thought it should play out when they met Jayden Mayfield in his bank office first thing in the morning. King was in total agreement until West surprised him by saying, “You take the lead in the questioning and I’ll chip in.”
“Why me? This is your waltz.”
West shook his head, “Are you forgetting how you handled Angus Mackenzie and saw it through after you laid Interpol on him? We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You have a way in dealing with bank managers.”
“I don’t like them and haven’t met one who places the interests of their clients above bank interest. They are a bunch of puffed-up…” He stopped instead of venting his full opinion.
“Precisely and that is why you should take the lead.”
“Nice of you to say but if that’s what you want by all means. I’m looking forward to meeting Sheriff Culpepper from the sound of it he could be worth cultivating.”
“He will be our next call after we finish with Mayfield.”
“It will just be like old times when we finally got our teeth into the investigation,” enthused King. “We are going to be in for an interesting morning. I can feel it.”
**“I CAN ALWAYS GET TO** Mr West but only when it is necessary,” Mandy Perkins said in her most business-like tone when she answered Victor Madison’s question. She had just finished check
ing her e-mails when Madison called. His brusque demanding tone didn’t start her day off on a high note.
“Can you give me a phone number and I’ll call him myself?” Not surprising there was no ‘please’ attached to the request.
Mandy deflected the demand with, “I am sure he will be in touch very shortly, and I shall ask him to call you.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“I haven’t heard from him since he told me he was leaving town and wouldn’t be available for an indefinite period. He said he would get back to me when he had something of importance to tell me, and I was to wait for him to call and not call him.”
“I find it incomprehensible that you, his executive assistant, won’t give me the courtesy of telling me how to contact your employer by phone.”
Scrambling for an answer Mandy replied, “We seldom talk by phone. We use our laptops and Skype to communicate.”
Madison sucked in his breath, “I’ll e-mail him.”
“I wish I could give it to you, Mr Madison, but I’d lose my job if I did. I am under strict orders to never give out his contact when he is in the field. I had to even refuse the chief of police one time.” It was a lie but the best she could come up with at the moment.
“I like and respect employee loyalty, so I’ll accept that for the moment. Have him call me at the earliest moment.”
“Indeed, I will and I wish I could be of more help. I am sure Mr West will be back to you before too long.”
“Then you have no set schedule for contact?” Madison’s tone was taking on the authoritative edge of a superior talking down to a subordinate and not taking no for an answer.
Both West and King warned Mandy not to back down if Madison began to pressure her, and she held her own with, “I have told you everything I know. When I hear from Mr West, I shall tell him you called and ask him to get in touch immediately.”
“I appreciate that, but I have the distinct feeling that you know more than you are telling me. However, I shall look forward with anticipation to hearing from you or Mr West in the fullness of time. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes sir, and I shall pass your message and concerns along to Mr West.”
Mandy hung up and made a face with her tongue sticking out. Before she could pour her first cup of coffee, the phone rang again. “You’re calling early,” she said, “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until this evening.”
“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t slacking off and getting in late now that I’m not there to keep an eye on you,” West chided laughingly.
“Very funny, if you want to know what time I got in and opened up the office check with Victor Madison. The phone was ringing off the hook before I could get my coat off.”
“What did he want?”
“He was climbing my frame because you haven’t checked in with him. He wants to know where you are, what you have accomplished so far, and wants to talk to you.”
“What did you tell him?”
Mandy related the conversation almost word-for-word.
“What is this about wanting my phone number?”
“I assume, dear boss, he wants to get to you.”
“Thank God, you didn’t give it to him. That’s all I need is him calling day or night.”
Mandy laughed, “You and Charlie weren’t kidding when you warned me about him.”
“Not upset, are you?”
“It would take more than him to upset me but want to know something?”
“What?”
“I can understand and have sympathy for him. It must be hell to have a missing child.”
“I always suspected that underneath your hard exterior, there is a woman with warmth and understanding. I’m pleased when your other side comes peeking through. Now, here is what I want you to do. Wait until this afternoon and call Madison. Tell him you surprisingly heard from me, and I’ll have something to tell him before the day is out. Whatever you do, don’t let on that Charlie is with me.”
“This is the second time you cautioned me about not mentioning Charlie.”
“It would really throw a monkey wrench into our investigation if he knew.”
“Gotcha!”
West related his meeting with Culpepper and his door opening with Jayden Mayfield.
Mandy had been taking notes as he talked and when finished said, “That should give him some peace of mind. It will put him in your debt and perhaps he will talk nicely to you.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Finally, I want you to run Sammy Pines, Moody Brook, Alabama, through the search engines and see what you come up with.”
KING ACTIVATED his recording device which he kept in the inside pocket of his jacket before he and West entered the bank. The coat buttons were undone, so it could hang loosely and not to muffle any words. It came from years of recording interviews. King surreptitiously positioned the chair Mayfield waved him to so that he was directly facing him.
“This is indeed a pleasure I say, a pleasure,” Jayden Mayfield gushed. “I understand from Sheriff Culpepper that you came all the way down from Canada to look for a girl who has been missing for over two years and think that I may be of help. I can’t imagine how I could have anything to offer about a missing Canadian girl, but if I can assist in any way, it will be my pleasure.”
“We are following every lead and you never know you may be of assistance.”
Mayfield looked bewildered, “Just what makes you think I might be able to be of assistance?”
King smiled, “Our on-going investigation has led us to Moody Brook and your bank.”
Mayfield stiffened, “I’d be obliged if you would kindly enlighten me.”
King proceeded to trace their investigation to Interpol, and the information that there were monthly transfers from the young woman’s bank account to a numbered account in Bank Swabian Jura and then transferred to account number 1702-0369995 in The Agronomy Bank of Alabama. Mayfield’s expression hardened, and his eyes became slits as he adjusted his rimless glasses.
“There must be a mistake, sir. This is a small local bank that serves the town and surrounding area. Why would some bank, I’ve never heard of in Liechtenstein, pinpoint this bank as the terminus of its money transfers?”
“That is what we are here to ask you. Interpol is very thorough with its investigations.”
Turning to West King continued, “Would you please show Mr Mayfield a copy of the e-mail which I received in my office at police headquarters in response to my inquiry.”
West reached down for his briefcase, which he had placed by the leg of his chair and opened it, “I believe this will explain everything.” He passed the single piece of printout across the desk to Mayfield which he took with a grunt and began reading.
When finished, he looked up and made a motion to return it to West. “You keep that, sir, I am sure you will want to show it to someone after we leave.”
“Has Sheriff Culpepper seen this?”
“Yes,” replied King.
“And just what did he have to say?”
“Nothing except that it was interesting and he was sure you could explain.”
“I don’t quite know what to say until I have investigated this further. I am not conversant with every transaction to or from my bank. You can understand that I am sure. I’ll have to look into this before I can render an opinion.”
“Of course. Take your time, we intend to be in Moody Brook for the indefinite future.” The cultivated smile King used when role-playing had not left his face but Mayfield’s welcoming smile was slowly disappearing. It was obvious he was not warming up to King.
It didn’t help when West said, “We understand that Pastor Paul has quite a spread out of town which he calls Sammy Pines, and does his banking with you?”
Mayfield stiffened noticeably. “What has that got to do with your investigation into the disappearance of a young girl?” he asked as he jiggled the Interpol report.
>
“We believe it does, and that’s why we are here asking you questions.” West opened his briefcase and took out a photograph. He theatrically studied it as Mayfield watched him suspiciously not knowing what was coming. “Are you married?” West asked.
“Indeed, I am, coming up to forty-five years.”
“Any children?”
“A girl, I call her my special darling.”
West jumped on the revelation and upped the pressure, “How old is she?”
“She will be nineteen and is in her first year at the University of Alabama.” Mayfield half-turned and pointed to a picture on the wall behind him. “That’s Emmy Lou’s graduation picture.”
King leaned forward and squinted at it then said to West, “Show Mr Mayfield our picture that was taken at Cindy Madison’s graduation. She had just passed her eighteenth birthday and was planning to enter university in the fall. She went missing shortly after that picture was taken.”
West took it out of his briefcase and laid it on the desk in front of Mayfield.
“Lovely child.”
“Lovely child indeed, just like Cindy Madison,” King said as he kept up the pressure.
West silently applauded King. He had just played the empathy card, and from Mayfield’s expression, it was working.
“Have a closer look, Mr Mayfield,”Are you sure you haven’t seen her? Perhaps she came into the bank at one time or another."
“What makes you think I might have seen her,” Mayfield blurted out defensively.
“It’s a question we ask everyone we interview.”
“You make it sound like you think she is in Moody Brook.”
“We never said she was in Moody Brook.”
“It sounded like that to me, and I don’t cotton to the implication.”
“Don’t take offense,” King soothed, “all we are trying to do is get some answers because I think you will agree it is curious that Interpol has traced money from Canada to Lichtenstein to Moody Brook. Now you can’t blame us for letting our imagination run wild.”
Mayfield took out his handkerchief, wiped his glasses and then his forehead before returning it to his pocket, “I don’t know what to say.”