by Douglas Hall
West tapped King on the foot as a signal for him to take over, “You can tell us who is on the receiving end of the money transfers that have been going on for a protracted period of time.”
“That, sir, is something I am not at liberty to do. There are hard and fast rules against divulging information about our client accounts and my hands are tied. I am sorry but that is it.”
“Read the e-mail from Interpol. They want us to alert them if we suspect money laundering, and you have not said anything to make us think, otherwise.”
Mayfield’s face crimsoned as he fought to control the rising indignation at the suggestion. “I think this meeting is over. You have no official status in Alabama as law enforcement officers or the United States for that matter. I am under no obligation to discuss this matter further, and I will say good morning.”
“One thing further if you will indulge us?” West replaced the photograph with a copy of the Child Waiting brochure and held it in front of Mayfield. “Have you ever seen one of these or heard of this organisation?”
Mayfield adjusted his glasses leaned forward and squinted, “Can’t say that I have.”
“Don’t you find it curious that Interpol mentions it in the same communique as it mentions your bank?”
“I have told you I am not familiar with it.”
West put the photograph in his briefcase and snapped the lid shut and stood up, “As you wish. Thank you for your time.”
Mayfield watched through the open door of his office as King and West walked towards the front door. Satisfied that they had left, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled from memory. As he waited for an answer, he wiped his forehead once more. Finally, the call was taken, “We have a problem.” He carefully enunciated each word.
SHERIFF CULPEPPER was an old school lawman of few words. He weighed the evidence and was very quick to come to firm conclusions. This became evident after he had silently listened to West’s recording of the morning meeting he and King had with Mayfield. All the while Culpepper listened; he was stroking his moustache. He was impressed with their hard-nosed questioning of Mayfield. It was obvious King had been well briefed by West before they arrived at the bank. West turned off the recorder and locked eyes with Culpepper and waited for him to speak. Uncharacteristically he said, “Intelligent and forceful questioning, but I must say I am deeply disturbed.”
To West and King’s surprise, he pushed a large Bible that was on the side of his desk in front of West, “I am bothered by Jayden’s insinuation that you two have no authority to ask him questions and want to rectify that. I shall swear both of you in as my special deputies, and you can ask all the questions you want with the authority of my office and the State of Alabama supporting you.”
Culpepper reached for a large book and wetting his index finger he went through the pages, "Here is what I am looking for. Let me read this to both of you, so your minds will be set at rest.
Trust me it is all legal. With a clearing of throat, he began, ’A sheriff of a county in Alabama may appoint, and have sworn in and entered, on the county clerk order book, as many special deputies as needed to assist him in the execution of his duties as needed in preparation for an emergency.’
I hereby declare that the finding of a missing young girl is an emergency, and I need you two to assist me. Any problem?"
“Not for him,” King noted as he thumbed West. “As for me, I am a sworn officer in a Canadian police services and knowing my chief, he might have a thing or two to say about it.”
“I won’t tell him.”
With a look of astonishment King said, “What the hell, let’s go for it and get this case solved.”
Once King was sworn in West followed. Next came the deputy badges which were star shaped and differed from the police services’ shield-like badge King carried.
“I am deeply, I say deeply, disturbed by what I heard on your recorder,” Culpepper drawled, “I had specifically asked Jayden to extend full courtesy and cooperate with your investigation. I am peeved that he didn’t do so. You can now go back to see him as duly appointed special deputies of this fair county, and he will have to comply. I shall wait until you report back as to how he responds to your second visit and then have some sharp words with that man.”
WEST TURNED ON his recorder before he and King entered the Moody Brook branch of the Agronomy Bank of Alabama and made sure it was in working order. Heads turned as they walked through the front door with their badges prominently visible on their jackets.
Without knocking, West opened the office door to a surprised Mayfield. Ignoring the protests that he was too busy to see them and the growled threat that he would call Culpepper unless they left immediately. West and King pointed to their deputy badges and sat down in the chairs in front of his desk.
King immediately resumed the bad cop stance from the previous meeting and began, “I trust our official status as deputies, for this county will now cause you to be more forthcoming.”
Mayfield held up his hand and picked up the phone, “I am not to be disturbed no matter who it is.”
“I shall begin by again showing you the picture of Cindy Madison who went missing from her home over two years ago, and a copy of Interpol’s e-mail I received in my office at police headquarters for you to read and refresh your memory.”
West took the cue and opened his briefcase. He removed the two items which he slid across the desk towards Mayfield who recoiled as though two venomous serpents were bearing down on him.
“I read the e-mail again after you left yesterday and can add nothing to it,” snapped Mayfield. “I told you I do not recognise the photograph nor am I familiar with Child Waiting. What more do you want me to say?”
“We know what you told us, Mr Mayfield, but there is much more that we are sure you can tell us, and we are not leaving until we get the answers we are looking for.”
Mayfield went on the offensive, “If you are still expecting proprietary information about one of the bank’s accounts, I am afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I spoke to my superior at the headquarters in Mobile and was told, in the strongest of terms, that I was not to give out any information. I am sorry, gentlemen, but you have come on what we Alabamians call a fool’s errand.”
West was not about to let the reference to fools go unanswered and snapped back with increased volume, “We assure you, Mr Mayfield, we are not fools, but you will be the fool if you continue to obstruct our investigation. Did you apprise your superior of the contents of Interpol’s e-mail?”
“I did indeed, sir. In fact, I scanned him a copy for his information and file.”
“What was his comment?”
Mayfield eyes became slits as he peered at West through his glasses, “I will be pleased to tell word-for word, ‘under no circumstance am I to make comment about what is in that e-mail.’”
“Tell me, Mr Mayfield, how long have you lived in Moody Brook?” West asked as he increased the pressure.
“I am proud to say I was born in Moody Brook, have lived all my life in Moody Brook and I hope to die in Moody Brook. Does that answer your question?”
West nodded and tapped King on the foot. “It might have answered my friend’s question, but it didn’t answer the one I have been wanting to ask you,” King began.
“And just what is that, sir?”
“You must have known Pastor Sammy Proctor better than most?” It was a question that obviously didn’t sit well.
“Everybody in Moody Brook was acquainted with Pastor Sammy and admired him. He did great things for this community and was a large financial contributor whenever money was being raised for a good cause.”
“How well did you know him?” West asked.
It was a textbook example of how effortlessly West and King had worked out their investigation techniques over the years. In this instance, they moved seamlessly from Pastor Proctor to Pastor Sammy and back again when Mayfield’s references changed from formal to friendly.
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“Well enough to pass the time of day when I met him on the street.”
“What about in the bank or in your office?” King interjected.
“When I came in contact with Pastor Sammy, I always passed pleasantries. We are a friendly people.”
“Was this the only bank he did business with?”
“I have no idea who else he did business with if indeed he did business with any other bank.”
“From what we have been told, a lot of money passed through his hands. It must have been one of your bigger accounts,” West suggested.
“Again, I cannot comment on depositors or the amount of business they conducted past present.”
“Not to worry. We’ll ask Sheriff Culpepper to arrange for a warrant to open up all of Pastor Sammy Proctor’s banking records leading up to his arrest and we’ll be back.”
“Why are you digging up the past like this?”
“Because as we told you, we are investigating the disappearance of a young girl, and if it were your daughter, we’d leave no stone unturned,” King replied. “Tell me, sir, were you surprised when Pastor Proctor was arrested and charged with money laundering and fraud?”
The questions went back and forth from West and King with such effortless speed that Mayfield was not given time to formulate replies. It was apparent that he was becoming rattled and his inquisitors had no intention of letting up. Instead, they upped the pressure.
“I find that question offensive, sir. Pastor Proctor has paid his debt.”
“Pastor Sammy Proctor’s account must have been one of the largest in your branch considering the amount of money he was charged with laundering.”
“Again, sir, I am forbidden to discuss our clients past and present, so you will have to excuse me for not responding with an answer.”
“I take that as a ‘yes’,” West replied with a knowing smile.
“I was instructed that if it became necessary, I was to call my lawyer who has an office in town and not say anything unless he is present.”
“By all means, call your lawyer. Tell him to meet us at Sheriff Culpepper’s office where we’ll continue our questioning.”
Mayfield blanched, “That won’t be necessary, continue.”
“As you like, it’s your decision, now let me ask you about Pastor Sammy Proctor. Sheriff Culpepper told us that when all the evidence was in after he was arrested and stood trial for fraud, money laundering and a number of other charges that the district attorney deemed his organisation to be nothing more than a Christian influenced cult that preyed upon women and blind followers who send him money. Do you agree with that designation?” West kept on hammering.
“I heard it. That’s the district attorney’s definition, it isn’t mine.”
“What about his son who is now called Pastor Paul? From what Sheriff Culpepper told us, he has quite a setup on the shore of Lake Hagerman and calls it Sammy Pines in honour of his father. Also has a weekly television show and sings from the same hymn book page when it comes to begging for money.”
“Have you seen it?”
Mayfield squinted at West, “What do you mean have I seen his television program?”
“A simple question since we haven’t seen it or Sammy Pines. I was hoping you could give us your impressions of both.”
“Sammy Pines is quite beautiful and well looked after. He is a masterful communicator and knows how to captivate viewers. That’s all I have to say.”
“Any idea what goes on at Sammy Pines???”
“What are you implying,” Mayfield asked defensively.
“Just wondering if it was like one of those Christian camps where people pay big money to go to prayer meeting and bible study every day?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Absolutely nothing, and it is to be commended. Ever attend one?”
Mayfield shifted his weight awkwardly, “I spent a day there as a guest with my daughter a couple of years ago to check it out and see if she would like to spend a couple of weeks of her summer vacation there. She liked it, they liked her, they even offered her a part-time job while she was still in high school.”
West shot a glance at King, “I was given to understand that the staff were all out of state.” They were prodding Mayfield through state-of-the-art interrogation to inadvertently give them something of value and this was it.
“Because of my association with Sammy Pines and friendship, I asked him as a special favour if he could see his way to just this once employ someone from Moody Brook. Emmy Lou was talking about going to Mobile to get a job for the summer and we didn’t want her to be that far away from us.”
“What does she do?”
“She works in the dining hall on weekends and on her holidays and still does until she leaves for college in the fall. It gives her spending money and keeps her close to home.”
“Then she would be the only Moody Brook resident at Sammy Pines?”
“She would know and recognise everyone on staff past and present, I assume?”
“I suppose so,” Mayfield replied. He didn’t know what West was getting at and was becoming decidedly uncomfortable.
West opened his briefcase and took out Cindy Madison’s photograph and laid it face up on the desk, “You said that you didn’t recognise the missing girl we are searching for, perhaps your daughter could. We’d like to show her this photograph. She might remember seeing her, and, especially, when was the last time she saw her.”
Mayfield’s eyes darted back and forth to West and King, “I make it a practice not to involve my family in my banking affairs and, especially, Emmy Lou. She is a very sensitive girl, and it would upset her if you asked questions about a missing girl her age.”
“We never said she was the same age as your daughter,” King said.
“I just assumed she was the way you both are talking about her.”
“One way to find out is to show her Cindy Madison’s photograph.”
“I can’t permit that, Inspector King. She is a very sensitive child, and it would upset her.”
“I am sorry but we have no choice. If she has never seen the girl, she will never hear from us again. What time will she be home tonight?” King asked.
Mayfield was being backed into a corner and realised it. “She has her own car and usually gets home around eight after dinner at Sammy Pines and everything is cleared up,” said Mayfield.
Standing up West said, “We will get directions to your house from Sheriff Culpepper. He may even accompany us.” He was sure he wouldn’t, but it was his way of further throwing Mayfield off guard.
“WHERE ARE YOU TWO?” Mandy Perkins asked as she looked at West’s smiling face, on her computer screen. Whenever he was in the field, they used Skype to communicate.
“We are in our luxury cabin at the Black Bear Motel which you booked for us and have just returned from an interesting day questioning the bank manager who juggled Pastor Sammy Proctor’s nefarious financial scams which landed him in jail. His name is Jayden Mayfield, and, somehow, he managed to talk his way out of it by saying he was just following client directions. Now it looks like his son Paul could be following in his father’s footsteps.”
“Have you proof?”
“Not that we could take to court but enough to convince us that we could be on the trail of Cindy Madison and that is where you come in.”
“Is Charlie with you?”
“Hi Mandy,” King cheerfully said as he bent close to the monitor, so Mandy could see his face.
“Hi Charlie. What’s he up to?”
King laughed, “I’ll let him tell you.”
“Anybody ever tell you that you have a suspicious nature?” West asked.
“Yes, right after I found out that little boys are not like little girls. Now out with it.”
West began with their first visit to Mayfield, their meeting with Culpepper, becoming sheriff deputies and their return visit to Mayfield.
“You mean you two are
deputy marshals? Unbelievable, how did you pull that off?”
“It was a stroke of good luck and genius. Have a look at this if you don’t believe me.”
West took off his marshal’s badge and held it up to the screen, “We both have one. I won’t take the time to go into the interviews in detail. I have recorded everything, and you can listen to them when you get here and transcribe them into the file. They will give you a clear picture of what we got. We have another interview this evening at eight, and with any luck, we’ll come away with something evidential. As soon as we are off, there are two things I want you to do immediately and leave a voice mail that everything has been done, so we can proceed to the next step.”
“And just what is it that you want me to do?”
"Book yourself on the same flight tomorrow that you booked Charlie and me on to Chattanooga, and we will meet you. Once that is confirmed, call Madison and tell him you will be out of the office for the next indefinite period. He’ll want to know where you are going and what you’ll be doing. Don’t tell him anything other than it has to do with the investigation.
“Finally, set up the phone with the call answering service to take calls while the office is closed. They will want to know what message to give callers. Tell them to say the office is closed, leave your number with a brief message and someone will get back to you as soon as possible.”
“That’s it?”
“Pack a selection of clothes and one dress outfit you may need it. Charlie and I look forward to seeing you.”
“I have a question. Just where will I be staying?”
“In your own luxury cabin, a stone’s throw from ours. It’s already booked.”
“That’s a relief. For a moment I thought you’d expected me to bunk in with you two to save money.”
“The thought crossed our minds, but my wife has no sense of humour,” King joked.
Mandy snorted and asked," Just what will I be doing?"
“You are going undercover,” West replied in a tone that left no question for debate.
“Would it be asking too much for you to tell me whom I shall be impersonating this time?”