What Happened To Flynn

by Pat Muir

  I did not like her decision, but I respected it.

  “Keep the pressure on the man,” said Brenda. “Monitor his phone calls… It might lead you to Arzeta or Bailey… Question him again on details to check for inconsistencies… I will also check with the federal prosecutor to see if they will give leeway in Collins’s sentencing for money laundering in return for info on Flynn’s murder.”

  I thanked Brenda and then called the office to speak to Amendez. “We are not satisfied with your client’s responses,” I told him. “I will arrange for his release now, but I may bring him in again for more questions.”

  CHAPTER 25

  A week or so later, Thompson came to our joint office looking very pleased with himself, so pleased, in fact, that he invited me and Steve to dinner. He took us to a restaurant with a fabulous bay view, patronized by higher-paid attorneys working the downtown courts. A couple of those attorneys acknowledged Thompson as the hostess took us to our table and took our order for drinks.

  “It’s very kind of you to invite us here, Harry,” I told our host. “I’ve never been here before.”

  “That goes for me too, Harry,” said Steve.

  It was the first time I’d heard Steve calling Thompson by his first name, a privilege or right I had commandeered for myself and one I knew my boss disliked but tolerated from his most senior subordinate.

  “You and Shane deserve this dinner for your effort,” replied Thompson, ticking me off by addressing Steve, not me, the senior detective on the case. He further added to my discomfort by saying to Steve, “Brenda Williams told me how your phone call research helped justify the conspiracy charges against Larry Swift and Collins.”

  “Very kind of her,” replied Steve, nodding at me. “Shane here was too busy organizing the raid to do the research herself.”

  “That’s why we’re having this dinner,” remarked Thompson, taking a large sip of his cocktail. “I heard from Jackson there was over nine hundred thousand dollars in cash in Swift’s office safe. He told me the sum of Swift’s business and personal bank accounts is over twenty million dollars. And then we get to sell the property and personal effects, which will certainly total much more than that. We’ve done very well. Our share of this will make a great contribution to our budget.”

  I told Thompson we were very pleased to hear the operation had been a financial success. Then, to flatter his ego, I asked him to tell us about the raid at Swift’s house.

  “Swift wasn’t there, of course. The black maid was very scared when she opened the door to see two patrol cars with their lights flashing and several other vehicles. We just barged by her and ordered everybody in the house out. That included the maid, a housekeeper, a cook, and of course, Marge Holmes.

  “How did she react?” I asked.

  “She was absolutely furious,” he said. “More furious than scared. A beautiful woman, she assessed the situation quickly. She didn’t lose her cool.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “She asked to see the warrants and actually read them. Then she called an attorney. She was in her housecoat and wanted to change before going outside. I had to guard her until I could get a female deputy to escort her to the bedroom. That deputy told me she had to restrain Marge from putting on jewelry but did not stop her from putting on makeup. Women are funny about how they want to appear in public. When she exited, she was all dolled up. I commented on it, and she said she had to look good for the press waiting outside. She tried to take her purse, but I would not let her. I opened it up later and found two thousand dollars in cash there as well as valuable jewelry, all of which I confiscated. Was she pissed!”

  “Anything else?” asked Steve.

  “I had the safe in the bedroom opened,” Thompson replied. “There was just one. It didn’t contain any valuables belonging to Swift. Titles to his cars and house, insurance policies, and the like were in the drawers of a desk in an office there. The safe contained a modest amount of cash and a certificate of deposit for one hundred thousand dollars in their joint names.”

  Thompson took another long sip of his cocktail before continuing. “I took the certificate and made her give me details of personal bank accounts the two of them had. Her bank account contained five hundred thousand dollars, and his a similar amount. I told her these accounts were being seized. She said she had nothing to do with whatever Larry was being accused of. She gave me the usual bullshit that she was an innocent party and had no idea what her partner was up to. She kept asking me how was she going to live with all her resources taken… I told her to talk to her attorney about it.”

  Thompson took another sip of his cocktail and went on. “Jackson tells me they are still reconciling the revenue from the various businesses with the funds deposited in the banks. They, of course, simply added the drug money to the revenue of the various businesses, which were clearly quite profitable in themselves. We know that from examining the computers in Swift’s outer office. The reconciliation is difficult because the funds were deposited into accounts of owner entities rather than accounts for the separate businesses. Moreover, the ownership in those entities is murky. Jackson says they will understand that better when they examine Swift’s computers in the inner office, which are password protected.”

  I went home that evening pleased I had contributed so much to the department and miffed at Thompson for favoring Steve over me. The next morning, Drew Ryan called me to ask when we were going to send him the money we had taken from Andy Collins’s apartment. “It’s being examined by forensics to see if Flynn’s fingerprints are on it. We’ll send the money to you as soon as we get the results.” I paused, and as an afterthought, I asked, “What happened to Wayne Collins? I heard he was released on his own recognizance.”

  “You haven’t brought him in for questioning, then?”

  “No. We’ve been concentrating on his brother and Larry Swift. We need to look at the e-mails on his computer, which you have, to see if he has any involvement in Flynn’s murder.”

  “Our examination of the computer shows no connection to money laundering. There are a few e-mails to and from his brother, all concerned with photography listings.”

  “What about his phone records?”

  “Nothing of significance there either.”

  “And how did Wayne react to being questioned?

  “The guy was shocked, so shocked, in fact, that he began to cry. I went over the money laundering evidence, emphasizing his brother and Larry Swift were sure to be charged with that crime in order to impress him with the seriousness of the case. I also told him about the murder of Flynn and that you would be questioning him there. I mentioned death penalty provisions were in play just to give him a scare and to get him to reveal anything incriminating. He was scared all right, but he appeared to have no idea what had been going on.”

  Forensics called me later that morning. “We did not find Flynn’s fingerprints on the money you took from Collins’s safe,” reported Danny Chu. I expressed my disappointment. Danny continued. “We had a hard time getting into the Collins’s computer. It had a highly encrypted password, but when we got in, we found a lot of kiddy porn. You’ve got quite a sicko there. I’ve reported it to the sexual crimes section. They are sending someone out to arrest him as we speak.”

  That’s why Collins was so guarded and evasive.

  I called Steve and told him the news. “I’ll bet Arzeta knew about it. That’s why he had Andy under his thumb,” he commented.

  Thompson called me later that same day with some shocking news. “I got a call from another homicide unit. Detectives from the sexual crimes section went to arrest Andy Collins and found he had been shot dead. They called it in to homicide since no weapon was found. The other unit knew we were on Collins’s case, so they passed it over to us. There are deputies guarding Collins’s apartment. You’d better get out there and investigate. The evidence team has already been notified, and they are on their way.”

  I grabbed Steve, an
d we drove north in the typical heavy traffic in late afternoon on Highway 5. I told him what forensics had found on Collins’s computer.

  “Wow… Did they say anything about fingerprints on Collins’s cash?” he asked.

  “Yes. They said Flynn’s prints weren’t there. I told them to courier the cash to the DEA, as well as the excess Bolder had from the raid.”

  “That’s too bad,” said Steve. “I’ll bet Andy pilfered bills from some of the money laundering packages.”

  “Yeah, but that wouldn’t be the reason for killing him. I would think he was assassinated because he could incriminate Swift and Arzeta in Flynn’s murder.”

  We arrived at Collins’s apartment building around six o’clock, with the setting sun casting shadows in the parking lot. We asked the deputy guarding Collins’s apartment where the sex crimes detective was. “He took off once he knew you were on the way” came the reply. “He gave us these arrest and search warrants saying you could use them for searching the apartment.”

  “Are you the only deputy here?” I asked.

  “No. The other deputy is knocking on doors to see if anybody heard or saw anything.”

  “How did you get into the apartment?”

  “It wasn’t locked. We opened it when nobody responded to our knocking. The detective was able to see the man lying on the couch with a bullet wound to the head. He felt the man’s pulse, confirmed he was dead, and called it in right away.”

  I looked at the door lock and jamb. The door had not been forced by the assassin. The outside windows were securely locked, the screens undamaged. Steve and I put on latex gloves and entered the dark interior of the apartment. I switched on a light and saw the scene exactly as the deputy had described. Blood had run down the side of the couch and congealed on the floor. The apartment was in a neat condition, no sign of a robbery. It became apparent to Steve and myself that this was a planned killing. We began asking tenants at the complex if they had seen or heard anything. The answers we and the other deputy obtained were all negative.

  “Collins’s whole body was on the couch,” I remarked to Steve. “I don’t think he was shot while sitting on it. Otherwise, his legs would have been on the side of the couch. I think he was lying on the couch when he was shot, perhaps napping. That means he didn’t let somebody into his apartment. Whoever killed him let himself in.”

  “Let’s talk to the manager to see if anybody else had a key to his apartment,” said Steve.

  We went to the manager’s office and found her there, a frightened elderly woman drinking coffee, who promptly offered us a cup. I could see that sitting with her would lessen her fright, so I accepted her offer.

  “You didn’t hear any gunshots today?” I asked.

  She replied she had heard nothing, nor had she seen any strangers that day. “Just like I told the officer.”

  “Do you have any CCTVs here?” I asked. When she asked me what they were, I knew there were none.

  “Is there anybody else who might have a key to Collins’s apartment?” asked Steve.

  “He asked for two keys when he rented the apartment five years ago. He sometimes has a friend who stays over.”

  “What can you tell us about this friend?” I asked.

  She hesitated. “He has a lot of friends. They are all very quiet. They don’t cause any trouble. I don’t ask any questions.”

  The inference that Collins was homosexual raised the possibility of a lover’s spat. We went back to the apartment when the forensic team and medical examiner were present. There was nothing else we could do but tell the deputy to get the apartment sealed after forensics had finished and the body had been removed. “After you’ve put police tape over the front, you won’t have to stay guarding it,” I told him.

  In the parking lot, Andy Collins’s blue Honda stood in its assigned parking space. I took the opportunity to remove its transponder. It was quite late, and we were both hungry. “I’ll call Emanya and tell her not to keep anything for me in the oven,” said Steve as we drove to a nearby Italian restaurant.

  We ordered our food and discussed the matter as we ate. “It looks as though a professional using a silencer assassinated Collins, since nobody heard a shot,” I said.

  “I agree,” said Steve. “The question is, did Collins let his killer in, or did the killer open the door with a key? Either way, it suggests Collins knew the killer.”

  “And that would most likely be Bailey.”

  “The medical examiner said rigor mortis had set in, so Collins had been dead for several hours. If the killer is Bailey, he’s long since taken off.”

  “I agree. He’s a professional, so he won’t leave the city by air or bus, where there will be CCTVs to record his departure. Instead, he will probably buy a secondhand car for cash from a dealer’s lot, if he doesn’t have one already, and drive it away. It’s too late now to put out traffic checks on our main freeways.”

  “But why kill Collins?” asked Steve. “We have Andy and Swift cold with respect to the money laundering charge. Is there something about Flynn’s murder we don’t know?”

  “Our theory is that Bailey did the killing and drove the car to Compton,” I said. “It’s possible Collins knew more about Flynn’s killing than he told us. Perhaps he knew something that would further prove Swift’s role in it. I suspect he would be very frightened of being sent to prison on sexual charges, especially if he was homosexual. Arzeta and Swift might have thought Collins would be desperate for a reduced sentence on those charges and be willing to say more about money laundering and Flynn’s murder. They would also want him not to reveal how much drug money he delivered over the years.”

  “There’s also the simple explanation that he was killed for siphoning off money from the drop,” commented Steve.

  We went to the autopsy the next day. Gunshot residues in his hair showed Collins had been shot at close range. A .22-caliber weapon had been used, the favored weapon of professional assassins. Death had been instantaneous. The medical examiner confirmed our belief Collins had been sleeping on the couch when he’d been shot. The manner of his killing ruled out murder by a jealous homosexual lover in our view. Thus, we did not rigorously question Collins’s friends.

  CHAPTER 26

  The San Diego Union newspaper reported Andy Collins’s murder two days later. The report speculated that his alleged role in money laundering may have been a factor in his assassination. I wasn’t sure if his attorney, Jose Amendez, read the paper, so I called him early to make sure. He expressed shock at the news. I asked him if he could give us any information about his deceased client that would help identify his killer or the motivation for his death. He said he would come to our office.

  “I have to be circumspect about what I say about Andy,” said Amendez. “He has family members and associates, so I prefer to speak off the record so nothing I say may be used in court. However, I am fine if anything I say helps you find and convict his killer and those who conspired to have him killed.”

  “We suspect his killer was Joseph Bailey, the man he travelled with to the fishing camp,” I said. “Did Andy have any knowledge of Bailey’s killing of Flynn?”

  “He said he knew nothing about it, but he did feel Bailey was capable of it.”

  “Did Andy say anything about Bailey that would help us locate him?”

  “He told me Bailey was a very taciturn individual who said nothing about himself and disliked being asked questions. Frankly, Andy was scared of him. The only true thing was that Bailey could nod off to sleep very easily.”

  “Anything else about Bailey?”

  “Andy said he appeared to enjoy fishing and that he had a Midwest accent.”

  “What was the nature of his relationship with Swift and Arzeta?”

  Amendez stared at me. “I take it you were able to get into Andy’s computer?” I nodded. “Then you know that Andy had a weakness for children involved in sex. I don’t know the exact details, but Arzeta must have found him involved
in it personally quite a few years earlier.”

  “And that’s why Arzeta had such a hold on him.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Did he tell you anything about Arzeta that would help us find him?”

  “No. He was scared of Arzeta. He feared his weakness would be exposed and he would be crucified in prison. That’s why he obeyed Arzeta without question.”

  “Did he say anything about Larry Swift?”

  “Not really. He simply said he was his landlord and his only dealings with him were with minor maintenance issues. He said Swift didn’t charge him rent.”

  “So, he never felt threatened by Swift even though he knew his landlord was a huge money launderer.”

  “I think he suspected that Arzeta had some kind of hold over Swift. But it must have been a minor hold since Swift enjoyed a very upscale lifestyle.”

  “Did he say if his brother Wayne knew anything about Flynn’s disappearance or the money laundering?”

  “He said his brother was a good man and how sorry he was to have somehow involved him.”

  Steve and I looked at each other. Amendez had told us all he knew, but it had not helped us. We thanked him for his time and told him we looked forward to working with him on other cases.

  I checked Collins’s charge card account and found charges for bus fares from Santa Rosa to San Francisco on Tuesday, Sept 16, and from there to Oceanside a day later. This confirmed he was not the one who drove Flynn’s car to Compton. Clearly, Bailey had stashed that car in Santa Rosa and dumped the Avalon there. He was the one with the savvy to spray oil over the vehicle to ensure fingerprints could not be taken. It left the question open as to how he’d gotten back from Santa Rosa to the fishing camp on the Sunday night when the murder had taken place. Perhaps the phone call Collins had received from Bailey in San Francisco had been about picking the latter up on the former’s return to the camp. Maybe Andy had been too drunk to remember that he had done so or had been scared to admit his role. The uncertainty as to how it had been done would come up later in the trial of Swift for conspiracy to commit murder.