by Douglas Hall
“I prefer it be in my office beginning promptly at 9:00 am.”
Another whisper in Mayfield’s ear then Brunson replied, “As you wish.”
The timing fitted into West’s plans. He wanted the next day free to get to Mandy and be ready for whatever when King returned from Boca Raton.
“Inspector King will be present as well,” West added.
Brunson stood up and began to walk to the office door with Mayfield following. He stopped and turned, “It would be appreciated, Virgil, if in future, when you apply for a warrant that concerns one of my clients, you do me the courtesy of informing.”
“I will do that, Gaylord, as long as it doesn’t compromise my investigation,” Culpepper replied in an unconvincing tone.
KING HAD THOROUGHLY ENJOYED the dinner and lively table conversation by the diners. No one made him feel uncomfortable or asked why he came to the Bethesda Retirement Home to visit Proctor after he was introduced as a ‘friend’ from Canada. It was not until Proctor invited him up to his fourth floor, well appointed, unit that he was able to get back to the reason for his visit. Proctor went to the small refrigerator and took a bottle of wine. With a smile he brought it and two glasses to the coffee table and, with a practiced procedure, began to uncork the bottle.
“You look surprised,” Proctor said with a laugh, “I always have a glass or two before I retire. Care to join me?”
“I am not what you would call a believer, but I thought people of your persuasion shunned strong drink.”
“If you know anything about me, I am not your conventional or stereotype believer, and I have paid dearly for stepping over the lines. Having a convivial glass with an invited guest behind a closed door is one of the few pleasures left to me. Some of my brethren criticise me for it, but I have always believed that when Jesus changed the water into wine at the wedding in Canna of Galilee, he, too, raised a glass to the bride and groom. If it was good enough for him, why not me?” Proctor raised his glass and King joined him.
Proctor took a sip, rolled it around in his mouth as he savoured the bouquet. Putting the glass down he said, “Just before we were called to dinner, you were about to show me something. What was it?”
King opened his briefcase and removed the copy of Interpol’s e-mail, “You asked me what evidence I had to supposedly connect you to the missing girl, and to be totally honest, I have no direct evidence, but have a read of this, and I’ll explain why I am here.”
Proctor took the copy and adjusted his glasses. He read slowly and stopped long enough to take a sip from his glass. When finished, he didn’t immediately hand it back; instead, he slowly flopped it up and down like the wings of a dove while deep in thought, “You interest me, inspector. I don’t know if there is anything of use I could possibly tell you that would be of use for your investigation to tell you, but ask away.”
“Interpol mentioned Child Waiting in passing. Are you familiar with it?”
“Yes, it is the monthly brochure, or whatever you want to call it, that I sent out to all my supporters to drum donations and keep the faithful energised. It was a great tool for raising money, and my son resurrected it for his mailing list. It’s a great marketing tool. The money came rolling in, and I am sure it is for Paul. He learned well from watching me and doing what I did.”
“Looking back what do you think about?”
Proctor thought pensively for a moment before answering, “If I was doing it all over again, I would never have used something like that. It was dishonest because all the heart-wrenching stories about children were pure fabrication. I had an imaginative lady working for me. Her name is Brockhurst…Stephany Brockhurst. She wrote every page. I have no idea where she got her information from, but she was a superb researcher and knows how to use search engines. She is doing the same for my son, and, frankly, it makes for good reading. Each page is a heart-wrenching story about the plight of children in Africa who are going blind. Paul attaches an electronic signature on the back page with a verse of scripture. That’s what I did and as I said he has learned from history what works and does it very well.”
Feigning innocence King asked, “Who is this Brockhurst?”
“She was my executive assistant for many years when I was riding high until I crashed. When my son decided to follow in my footsteps into the ministry and build Sammy Pines, she was the first person he hired. Fortunately, for him, she had been in total charge of my administrative office, and when I was arrested, she took all the records she could lay her hands on including the mailing list that he used when he launched Child Waiting. It was a gold mine and gave him a solid foundation upon which to reach the supporters he needs to fund his ministry.”
“Did what happened to you make her bitter?”
“On the contrary, she felt sorry for me, and I thank the good Lord that she wasn’t charged. You probably can’t understand but I loved her in a Christian manner.”
Proctor reached for the wine bottle and chuckled as he topped up the glasses.
“I just thought of something, and I think you might find it interesting now that I’ve told you everything except…” Proctor put his glass down.
“Except what?”
“No one in my organisation ever knew that ‘Brock’, that’s what I called her, was the one who wrote every word of Child Waiting. Paul once told me that it is the same with Sammy Pines. No one on the inside knows she is the author of the heart-wrenching tales. He also told me, and you won’t believe this, donations had been falling off and the board was brainstorming for fresh ideas to stimulate the donations. One of the board members suggested that they all pray to the Lord for a fresh outbreak of juvenile conjunctivitis. It would mean that more children would be going blind, at an extraordinary rate, and the ministry could capitalise on it with a big push for more money.”
King made a face, “That is immoral.”
“It’s downright sinful, but that’s how some close to his ministry think.”
“I did some questionable things like laundering money, playing wide and fancy with the truth, and I paid dearly for it. When you are appealing to the gullible, you have to have a hook. Conjunctivitis was something the other TV evangelists never thought of and was something not many could pronounce. It had all the makings of an attention grabber, and I milked it for all it was worth. I cornered the conjunctivitis market and it paid off big time. That’s what grabbed Paul’s interest and he is using it brilliantly.”
“I wasn’t going to mention it, but since you did, I hope you won’t mind if I ask you about the money laundering?”
Proctor gave King a wry smile, “Why not. You aren’t a reporter or some hack writer who thinks he can write my story and make a killing from it. What do you want to know?”
“What got you into it?”
“The love of money. I was making more money than I could ever imagine. I knew that sooner than later, my ministry would be over, and I would need money to retire in the style I had become accustomed to. I was offered it with little or no effort on my part. All I had to do was let some people use my corporate and personal banking, and I would be well-rewarded.”
“Care to tell me who those people were?”
Proctor smiled, “If Interpol didn’t tell you, why should I? Let’s talk about something else.”
“What do you think about Sammy Pines and it being named after you?”
“Having something named after me really doesn’t impress. I suppose he did it with the right intention, and from the pictures I’ve seen, it looks like something I would have built. I have never been to it, but I remember where it is because I, too, had grand ideas about turning it into a Christian retreat but…” Proctor’s voice trailed off. Collecting himself he continued, “That was in the then, and this is in now.”
“My life changed abruptly when I was released on parole. My wife and I came to Bethesda and lived in a couple’s unit until she passed away. Since I got here, I have never ventured out even to downtown Boca Raton or the
ocean. When Paul set us up here, that was one of the conditions I was not to be seen in public. He has paid for everything from day one, and I receive a modest monthly stipend for my personal needs and that’s it. I follow orders plain and simple.”
“Aren’t you disobeying them by talking to me?”
Proctor shrugged and reached for the bottle to keep the glasses topped off.
“No one outside of my partner, me and Sheriff Culpepper will ever know about my visit.”
King had a twinge of conscience saying it but it appeared to be what Proctor wanted to hear.
By the time the bottle was emptied and a fresh one uncorked, Proctor was running out of stories about his time on television when he was riding high. “Did you know I had bigger ratings than many of the shows I was up against?”
“I am not surprised. You sure knew how to make love to a camera.”
“Is that what they called it?”
It was obvious that Proctor was running down, and King decided it was time to wrap things up before he overstayed his welcome, “I want to thank you for being so gracious, but I must be going. I have to be back in Moody Brook by noon tomorrow and will have to leave early. Just one more thing to ask.” King knew he was taking a gamble revisiting the money laundering, but it was a gamble worth taking even if he was dismissed out of hand.
“Ask it.”
Instead of directly mentioning money laundering, he came at it from a different direction and asked, “What is your opinion of Jayden Mayfield?”
Proctor closed his eyes for a moment then, looking up, said, “A toad of a man. Do you know him?”
“I’ve met him.”
“Then you can appreciate what I am about to tell you. It was his idea for me to use the Lichtenstein unnumbered bank route. It paid off until the feds got wind of it and shut me down. Mayfield told me how they, he didn’t say who, could wash money they wanted to hide from the feds through an unnumbered account in a Lichtenstein bank and set it up for me. He said it was fool-proof. All they needed was access to my general operating account, and I was dumb enough to fall for it.”
“Did Mayfield have any direct involvement?”
“I have no idea other than he said not to worry about my monthly statements, he would look after everything.”
“Do you think he benefitted from whatever it was that he did?”
Proctor shook his head, “I have no idea, but Jayden Mayfield never does anything for nothing. Like me, money was, and I assume still is, his God.”
“I sure he benefitted but from whom I never knew. Every month Jayden would deliver an envelope bulging with bills. I told the feds but never heard if they followed it up. I assume they did but never had enough to take it further as Jayden is still with the bank. He was one sweet talker.”
“He still is.”
“If your son asked you for advice, what would you say to him?”
Proctor smacked his lips, “I made it a point to never offer advice when I heard he was going into the ministry.” Proctor caught himself, “That is not quite true, I did give him a bit of advice.”
“What was that?”
“I told him to get a good bookkeeper he could trust and not let anyone talk him into something and blindly follow.”
“Did he take it?”
“Surprisingly he did. He hired Stephanie Brockhurst and there is none better.”
“Paul would have a fit if he knew you are here and I am talking to you like this.”
“Going to tell him?”
Proctor slowly shook his head, “No, and I would be grateful if you didn’t either.”
“I can tell you this much I think your son and Sammy Pines is facing serious problems from the authorities.”
Proctor lowered his head and shook it slowly, “Can’t say that I am surprised. I have suspected for some time that Paul was following the same path as I did.”
“What makes you say that?”
“A father knows. All I can say is there is not enough revenue generated to pay Sammy Pines’ overhead. It is an expensive operation to run.”
“I thought you have never seen it?”
“I haven’t, but there is a couple in here who used to spend their holidays at Sammy Pines until old age took over and they couldn’t travel like they used to. They told me all about it and showed me their pictures.”
King couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had obtained more intelligence than he could ever imagine possible.
“I see you haven’t taken any notes. Can you remember everything I told you?”
“I have it all here,” King replied as he patted his chest. “It’s on my recording device.”
“You are one sly devil. Aren’t you supposed to ask permission before you record?”
“Normally, but this wasn’t an official interview, and if I had asked you right off, would you have given it?”
“Probably not.”
“Exactly. I hope you are not upset?”
“To the contrary. Now that I have met you, I am pleased that someone like you should hear my side of things.”
When they reached the door, they warmly shook hands. Just as Proctor was about to close it, his expression changed from pleasant to serious as he said, “Have a talk with Brock; she should have some tall tales to tell.”
Twelve
MANDY PERKINS REFILLED HER WINE GLASS and looked at her watch. It was just past one o’clock in the morning. She was wide-awake and energised. Lifting the lid to her laptop she began typing an e-mail to West.
Dear Boss:
Since I won’t be able to e-mail you in the morning, and you’ll understand why when you read what I have to tell you about what happened this evening. I’ll get this off to you now so you will have it first thing. I think you would call it a breakthrough. After dinner, I had planned to return to my cabin when Stephanie Brockhurst asked me if I could come to her office. She had something to ask me. Naturally, I agreed and it was nearly 12:30 when she walked me back to my cabin and said good night. She began by telling me a bit of her background and about the time she spent with Pastor Sammy Proctor before he went to prison. She ran the business end of his ministry as his executive assistant and was lucky that she wasn’t charged along with him. She then went into detail beginning with Pastor Paul asking her to run his office and look after the business affairs of Sammy Pines shortly after construction on the resort began. At first, I couldn’t grasp why she was telling me all this, but it soon became clear when she said her assistant became pregnant and quit to raise a family, and she was snowed under with office work. Based upon the line, I spun her about being at loose ends and wanting to start over when I arrived; she said I was an answer to prayer and would I consider staying on as her office manager. My duties would include assuming the bookkeeper duties and running the extensive mailing and contact list of supporters. This would include the preparation of the weekly banking and, get this, updating the Child Waiting address file. Evidently, nothing has been done with the file for some time and that would be one of my first assignments. I played cute and told her I’d have to think it over as I had planned to leave at the end of next week and travel. I said I would give her my answer by noon. The possibilities with what I could come up with once I was able to trace Cindy Madison’s history, from when she first began getting Child Waiting and started contributing could be most interesting and useful. That’s all I have for now. You realise that once I take the job, I’ll be double dipping and keeping the salary which Brock said would be generous along with what you pay me. If you tell me to turn it down, I’ll be putting in for overtime. It’s your choice.
Your obedient servant.
KING ARRIVED back in Moody Brook shortly before noon to find West and Mandy enjoying a coffee in the Black Bear Motel cabin he and West shared. He had left Boca Raton shortly after four in the morning and thoroughly enjoyed the seven-and-a-half-hour drive once he found a big band radio station and kept it on for the full trip. West grimaced when he said he eve
n sang along with the golden oldies. He told Mandy that he had heard his singing and was glad he wasn’t with him.
“I’ll let that go. Get me a coffee and I’ll fill you in with what I learned from my meeting with Pastor Sammy. Better still, I’ll play the recording of our conversation. I’d like to hear it again myself.”
It took two more refills while they silently listened. West was the first to comment, “That wasn’t a wasted trip and just reinforces that we are on to something big. Wait until you hear what Mandy has been up to.”
“Well,” began Mandy with wide-eyed enthusiasm, “I just accepted a new full-time job.”
Before she could continue, King reacted with surprise, “Do you know about this. It will be the end of Paul West Detective Agency?”
West swung his laptop towards King, “She sent me an e-mail overnight. Have a read.”
“That’s a relief. I couldn’t imagine working with him without you.”
“You two are stuck with me, so don’t have a fit.”
King reached for his recorder on the table and fast-forwarded. “Have a listen to the last thing Pastor Sammy said to me as I was leaving in case you missed it.”
“Have a talk with Brockhurst. She should have some tall tales to tell.”
The next hour was spent by West and King instructing Mandy on what she should do once she began her duties at Sammy Pines. First, she was to establish a relationship with Brockhurst and any staff, especially those who had been around from the beginning. Paramount was to try and find anyone who might remember a young girl named Cindy Madison, but it was doubtful that she would use that name. The clue might be if someone looked like her in the lobby staff photographs or mentioned Canada. Next came searching through the address files. Once she found Cindy Madison’s name and Canadian address, she could go through the change of addresses that had piled up and, hopefully, come up with a lead.
Brockhurst, Mandy said, had gone to great lengths outlining what her duties would be if she accepted the job offer including a daily posting of revenue generated from resort guests, mail donations and preparing the weekly banking. It was an ideal opportunity to monitor the cash flow. King immediately agreed with West when he said she could get into the computer files and review the past financial history of Sammy Pines, as it related to income versus disbursements, without drawing suspicion.