The Voxlightner Scandal

by Don Travis

  But one tidbit in Charlie’s monologue plucked me from my dreamworld. I straightened in a chair that suffered from my own affliction—overstuffed. “Say that again.”

  “Given your insight into the proximity of the three apartments, Tim and Alan double-teamed Lodeen last night. Alan stayed in his car on the street to watch the front door to the apartment building. Tim drew the short stick and hunkered down in the cold park behind the buildings to watch the rear. Lodeen came out around two.”

  “Hadn’t he had enough of Spence by then?” Paul asked in an ennui-laden voice.

  “Apparently so, because he went to the other apartment house. To Thackerson’s.”

  “Why am I just finding this out?” I asked.

  “Tim called me here at the house when he headed home after keeping watch all night. Said Lodeen hadn’t returned to his place by the time he left.”

  “Rocky spent the night with Sarah?” Paul wasn’t so sluggish now.

  “That puts a new light on things,” I said.

  “Smart of you to sit down and plot the position of their apartments,” Hazel said. “What caused you to do it?”

  “Frustration,” I said.

  “Oh what a twisted web we weave….” Paul misquoted Sir Walter Scott. “Damnation. Sarah and Spence were both screwing Pierce. Now it looks like Rocky’s screwing both Spence and Sarah.”

  I SUSPECTED Sarah was the weaker link between the two, but this might not be true. Rocky’s nature was to crow about his exploits, so he might more readily admit a relationship between them. Judging it a toss-up, I learned neither CNM nor UNM held classes on the day after Thanksgiving and sent Paul to discuss the merits of Chargers vs Cougars with Rocky while I braced Sarah in her apartment. I hit her with it as soon as she allowed me through the door.

  “You told me you had no relationship with Rocky Lodeen.”

  She halted midstride on the way to the sitting area. “Who says we do?”

  “I do. He spent Wednesday night with you.”

  Sarah dropped into a recliner and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the table beside it. Lighting the tube of tobacco gave her time to think. “When you first asked me, there wasn’t one. This is something recent. And I saw no reason to share it with anyone.”

  “Not even Spence?”

  She shrugged. “Why should I? I don’t think it’s a secret I loathe the man.”

  “Why?”

  “He preyed on Pierce. Took advantage of him.”

  “That’s his assessment of you.”

  Her color heightened, but she remained in control. “Yes. He would, wouldn’t he? But then he can’t see beyond the end of his nose.” She left the rest unsaid.

  “They are best friends, you know. Spence and Rocky, I mean.”

  She leveled attractive brown eyes at me. “For the moment.”

  Oh-ho. She genuinely resented that Spence received the same consideration from Pierce as she had. “Burns a little, does it?”

  Her cheeks reddened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  My approach worked enough to get what I wanted from her, but it shut down all other avenues of conversation. She was finished with me for the moment, so I took my leave and waited five minutes before dialing Paul’s cell.

  “Did you find Rocky?”

  “Yep.”

  “Still with him?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did she call him after I left her?”

  “Yep.” His voice dropped. “On the line now.”

  “His apartment?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Tell him I’m on the way over.”

  “OKAY. SO I like to bang a chick. Understand that’s not on your menu.” Rocky’s eyes flickered to Paul sitting beside me on a cheap yellow settee.

  The man, looking like the paratrooper he once was with camos tucked into military boots and an olive undershirt showing off his pecs, had admitted me to his apartment on the first ring of the doorbell. The big smile on his face wasn’t intended as a welcome but rather to show his appreciation of the forthcoming battle of wits. His apartment looked like Sarah’s without the feminine touches. The place was furnished for comfort, not show.

  “How does Spence feel about that?”

  He squinted momentarily as he considered my question. “Why the hell would he care? There’s no love lost between those two. She’d like to scratch his eyes out, and he’d like to chuck her over a waterfall… any waterfall.”

  “You didn’t get enough from Spence, so you’re planning on nursing on the Thackerson nipple too?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Paul eyeing me, probably confused by my confrontational approach. But I wanted to poke this rattlesnake to see if he had fangs or just rattles. If it was the former, he was a good candidate for broadsiding Paul’s car and tossing shots at us from the back alley.

  “How much is too much? I’m in my prime. I can go at it all day.”

  “Don’t play games, Lodeen. I’m talking about money, not your stamina. You hit Spence up for $10,000. How much are you going for with Sarah? Maybe marry her and get the whole quarter of a mil plus the two mil in insurance?”

  Something happened to Rocky Lodeen’s face for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. He hadn’t known about the $2,000,000 life payout to Sarah. But he did now. I could almost follow his thought process. Did Spence have a payoff like that coming too?

  He fell back on my prior comment. “I got nothing from Spence except a ten-grand loan on my car. I’d rather pay him interest than some loan company.”

  “How much interest?” Paul asked.

  Rocky shrugged. “The going rate.”

  “What’s that?” Paul pressed.

  “That’s between Spence and me. Our business. Not yours.”

  “Do you own a gun?” I asked.

  He blinked. “Course I do. Couple of them.”

  “A .38?”

  “What the hell does that matter?”

  “Somebody took a shot at us.”

  “No shit! When?

  “October 20,” Paul said without hesitation.

  “Hell that was over a month ago. Did I even know you guys then?”

  “That’s immaterial,” I said.

  “Man, if I was the shooter, wouldn’t neither one of you be around now. I was Second Battalion, 327th Regiment. We don’t miss.”

  “Maybe it was just a warning,” Paul said. “Like T-boning my car. Just so you know it, I’m tired of warnings.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Paul was taking things down another road. I stepped in again. “Do you mind if we take your sidearm to the police for testing. They recovered a slug from our kitchen wall to compare it with.”

  “I ain’t gonna turn it over to you two. Have the cops come and get it if they want it!”

  I noticed the lapse into the vernacular where he was probably more comfortable. “They’ll be happy to. You can expect a Detective Guerra to come calling.”

  “Be waiting for him. This is all about that old queer, ain’t it? Belhaven. You can tell your Detective Whatever-His-Name-Is I didn’t shoot him or light him up with gasoline. Why would I?”

  “Money is the most likely answer.”

  “We’re back to that? I didn’t get none of his money. Spencer lent me ten grand for my car, but he’ll get his dough. Uncle of mine in Chicago’s gonna send me the dough to pay off Spence. So I get a car, and Spence gets his money back with some vig. Now get outta my apartment.”

  After we were settled in my Impala and heading back downtown to the office, Paul turned to me.

  “He didn’t know about the life insurance, did he?”

  “He covered it pretty well, but my guess is that he didn’t.”

  “Gives him more to go after, doesn’t it?”

  “Wonder where he’ll expend most of his effort? Spence or Sarah?”

  Chapter 27

  SATURDAY MORNING I sat in my home office reviewing the Belhaven file online. When I reached the
transcription of our talk with Rocky Lodeen a week earlier, something he’d said yesterday jumped out at me. “If I’d been the shooter, neither one of you’d be around now.” I closed my eyes and envisioned the ambush in our backyard. It appeared my drawing a weapon panicked the shooter. Both Paul and I agreed he wasn’t a professional. If it was Rocky, he wouldn’t have been seen, much less missed his targets.

  How about Spence? I opened my eyes and shook my head. Same thing. He was a Ranger. Our shooter wasn’t either of the two ex-military men. Who, then? Two people popped into my head: Harris Belhaven and Sarah Thackerson. Why the two of them? Because they both had a significant financial gain to protect. The insurance payout. Five mil for Harris and two for Sarah. I had no idea of their skill with firearms, but they weren’t trained killers.

  Why did I so readily dismiss the Harpers? Distance was one factor. A second was the nature of the two. They seemed to be genuine nose-to-the-grindstone people who worked hard to take care of their own problems. Still… an investigation’s an investigation, so I needed to tie down their movements on the afternoon and evening of Wednesday, October 12.

  MONDAY MORNING Paul and I settled onto a bench in a New Mexico district courtroom to witness Wick’s sentencing. He’d pled guilty to his part in the VPMR scam, including the killings of four people: Barron Voxlightner, Dr. Walther Stabler, Thelma Rider, and Dr. Damon Herrera. No mention of John Pierce Belhaven or Everett Kent, the attorney who first blew the whistle on the scam. No doubt he’d struck a deal with the district attorney to avoid the death penalty, although the state hadn’t put anyone to death since the 2001 execution of a man named Terry Clark.

  During Wick’s allocution to his crimes, as was required by the court, he spoke in a monotone, although firmly enough to reach every part of the courtroom. He seemed to have recovered from the stabbing in the shower at the detention center, but he’d lost weight, and his normally erect carriage was slightly stooped. Once he finished, the judge asked if all parties were satisfied before sentencing Wick to life imprisonment.

  We stood as the judge adjourned the proceedings. The crowd began to clear. “He didn’t mention Pierce Belhaven,” Paul said in a whisper as they led Wick out a side door.

  “Nor Everett Kent. I think Stabler killed Kent. Can’t prove it, of course.”

  “Does this really mean Wick’ll die in prison?”

  “The New Mexico statutes offer the possibility of parole after thirty years, although it’s seldom granted to murderers. Wick’s in his midfifties, so chances are good he’ll die behind bars.” I looked around at the departing crowd. “I didn’t see any of his family.”

  “Word down at the Journal is Wick asked his wife to divorce him and move back east to be with her family.”

  “Did she?”

  He shrugged. “I thought Dorothy Voxlightner wouldn’t want to miss this.”

  “I talked to her. She had no interest in coming. Resolving the issue of her son was enough for her. And of course, identifying Belhaven’s killer.”

  Paul scratched an ear. “That’s not coming along too well, is it?”

  “Maybe better than you think.”

  “Huh? What?”

  I smiled at him. “Give it some thought.”

  He spent the rest of the day at his desk in our home office going over the files. Toward evening I checked to see how he was doing. He lifted his head and stared at me.

  “Harris or Sarah or Spence or Rocky.”

  I smiled. “Or a combination thereof.”

  I WAS convinced Rocky Lodeen was involved in Belhaven’s death—at least to some extent—for two reasons: he was a trained stuntman and he got booted from the Army for being an indiscriminate killer. No one can know for certain he’ll walk away from a car wreck, but a stunt driver has more chances of doing so than most people. And a man who has trouble telling the difference between a combat and a noncombat death deserves special consideration.

  Hazel and Charlie had also taken a deeper look into the service record of the other ex-military man in our cast of characters. Spencer Spears also learned to kill in the Army. Perhaps that was like a gateway drug and led to easier killings. Unlike Rocky, Spencer probably made a distinction between sanctioned and unsanctioned killing. But was a quarter-of-a-million-dollar inheritance enough to get him to suspend his morals and kill another man? Particularly one he’d been intimate with? Could the intimacy have been a negative factor? Young guy tired of catering to the needs of an old guy. Paul’s brief flirtation flashed through my mind like a hammer blow, but I put it aside. A $2,000,000 insurance payoff would provide an even more powerful temptation. But did Spence know of his policy? Even if—as I believed—Sarah possessed such knowledge, her frosty relationship with her rival argued against her alerting him.

  I sighed aloud. Every time I traveled a mental road, detours appeared all up and down the line. Nothing unusual in that. That was part of the confidential investigator’s game. If I’d done nothing else, I’d convinced myself Rocky was the most dangerous player on the field.

  The place to start was with the tenants in those three apartment buildings situated so conveniently close together. Believing I was about to seriously piss off Rocky Lodeen—not to mention Sarah Thackerson and Spencer Spears—I didn’t want Paul involved, so Tuesday morning Charlie went along with me to begin the survey. I pacified Paul by asking him to look up Guerra’s report on the T-bone incident and interview anyone the cops spoke to about the “accident.”

  Charlie and I spent two full days making sure we spoke to all thirty-eight tenants of those small apartment buildings. Neighbors like to think they respect one anothers’ privacy, but once you get them talking, strange things come out. Not so with these neighbors. The only thing they could come up with was that the two men sometimes snuck off in the middle of the night. That fact excited some idle speculation, but little else.

  We heard nothing from any of the three individuals we were investigating. I figured Sarah was cool enough to take it in stride, Spence was cocky enough to let it slide, but Rocky was incapable of ignoring the intrusion. I was right. The day after we finished our survey, Rocky was on the phone raising hell. He’d only waited that long because we tackled his building last. The ex-paratrooper called me to vent and then went silent. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  According to Tim and Alan, Rocky continued to spend a couple of nights a week at Sarah’s place and a couple at Spence’s. No wonder those two never brought women home from the bar. They didn’t have the energy for it. I was mildly curious over how a macho ex-Ranger and a tough former paratrooper managed things between them, but it was a fleeting thought.

  “Do we keep Tim and Alan on Lodeen?” Charlie asked.

  “Maybe it’s time to have them look at Spears.”

  He rubbed his balding head. “Seems to me Lodeen is the volcano waiting to erupt. Spears would just invite them to coffee.”

  “You know, when you think about it, there’s no reason a tail should shake up Rocky. The fact it does confirms for me that he’s involved somehow. But unless he starts throwing around money he shouldn’t have, I’m not sure how to prove he’s Belhaven’s killer… providing he is.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Maybe we can make him nervous enough to do something rash.”

  “Even if we rode his ass every day for a month, there’s no reason for him to do anything stupid,” I said.

  “When does reason enter into it?” Charlie asked. “Treat a guy like he’s guilty, and sometimes he’ll admit it.”

  I mulled over my partner’s suggestion. “Do it. Have them stop double-teaming him and put them in shifts around the clock. And tell them to be obvious about it. They might talk to his boss at the auto body shop and to the bartender at the Hogshead.”

  “While he’s watching?”

  “Make sure he’s watching. Get him tensed up good and tight, and then there’s something we can try.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You remember the beer c
an Paul took to APD.”

  “The one Lodeen drank out of?”

  “That’s the one. It gave us his fingerprints—”

  “And his DNA,” Charlie finished my sentence. “So what? We haven’t found his DNA anywhere.”

  “He doesn’t know that. And where’s the most likely place we’d find it?”

  “In the Caravan that plowed into Paul. Shock like that shoulda left some stray hair or skin or something.”

  “Maybe we better remind Guerra to check on that.”

  “Hell, the minivan’s probably gone to the scrap yard by now.”

  “Once again, Rocky doesn’t know that.” I paused. “Come to think of it, neither do we.”

  “I’ll get ahold of Guerra,” Charlie said.

  Chapter 28

  WE WERE all surprised the Caravan involved in Paul’s crash was still in the APD impound lot. Gene wasn’t convinced the incident was an accident and held the vehicle as evidence in a possible crime. Guerra was embarrassed he hadn’t run Rocky Lodeen’s DNA to match against hair samples and skin cells found in the disabled van.

  As he set about correcting that oversight, Tim and Alan made themselves a more obvious and irritating factor in Rocky’s life. He reacted as anticipated. I arrived home one evening to find him on my front porch arguing with Paul through a latched screen door. I spotted Alan’s car half a block down the street. Rocky turned his ire on me as soon as I got out of the Impala.

  “Why are you hassling me, man?” he demanded as he stomped down the front steps.

  “Not hassling anyone,” I said. Damn. Despite my pledge, my weapon was in the car trunk again. I hoped Alan would react if things went wrong. “I’m investigating a murder.”

  “How come you think I done it?”

  “You needed money. Belhaven died. You got money.”

  “Yeah. What’s the connection?”

  “Spencer Spears.”

  “I knew Spence before I ever heard of Belhaven.”