“Anthony Carrick. Thanks for meeting with me.”
“No problem. I’m a little scared that’s why I called the police earlier but they haven’t called me back yet.”
“Don’t worry about that. John’s extremely busy. I bet he’ll get back to you by the end of the day. He could be out in the field at the moment.” Good luck for me.
I looked at the table. She had a biscotti on a plate and a large mug of green tea. Smelt like it and looked like it. I’d had enough coffee. I figured the tea would be a great call.
“Can I get you anything else Sulan?” She shook her head.
“No thanks. This tea is great. I should get back to the office in a bit anyway.”
“Yeah sorry about the timing. Traffic you know. There was a tie up on Ventura.”
I went and ordered a green tea and a biscotti. A snack to keep the howling wolves at bay. Something crunchy and light. I came and sat back down across from Sulan. Along the wall were teapots and coffee mugs and colored plates. It was cozy and relaxed. I felt at ease, although my back was to the door. I didn’t like that much. I imagined this might be the living room of some hip old granny. It had that kinda feel. Not my granny. No, she was not so hip. A good old lady, but old school you know. Grew up through both wars and the depression. That has an effect on people.
“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” I said.
“Well, I was curious what a Tom Cruise impersonator looked like.”
I laughed. “Well, if you look at me at the right angle from about a hundred yards at darkest night, I think you’ll find a strong resemblance.”
She giggled at that. I was beginning to figure out that she was a giggler.
“I’m glad you said it. You don’t look like him at all although you are nice looking. You’re taller too.”
I didn’t know what to do about that nice looking part. Maybe she said I was nice looking because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Maybe nice meant I wasn’t an eye sore. Or maybe she meant it like she could trust me. Anyway, I figured at this stage of the game I knew people’s relationships were a hell of a lot more flexible than I was used to.
“Can you tell me about Max. You and Max particularly. He was your employer right?”
“Yes I had worked for him for just over five years. He was a very kind man.”
“I bet.” There was that lump in that throat again.
“Listen Sulan. I’ve been around the block a bit with this family. I know things aren’t as they appear to the naked eye. For instance. I’m looking at your hands. I like them. They’re long and slender. Your nails are well manicured. I like hands. You take care of yours. But more importantly you’re not married. At least you’re not wearing a wedding ring. So I get to figuring. Because that’s what I do. I’m a café philosopher. I get to asking myself. Here’s a very attractive woman. Around early to mid thirties.”
I raised my eyebrows at the asking. She nodded. I had to be careful with age, but I thought I was a pretty good gauge.
“So here’s a very attractive woman,” she looked down at her lap in modesty. It was becoming, “who’s not married. And so I’m thinking to myself how can that be. Surely she’s had suitors. I bet my pinkie on it. But then I remember that I’m looking at a murder here and with murders things aren’t always as they seem. So I get to looking back at all the people I’ve been talking to about this mess. Lots of people. Like Vanessa for instance. Like Luke Logan maybe. Maybe I was talking to this hooker Leaf Shivers. Hell I might’ve had a conversation with the young son. Maybe even the housekeeper Maria.
If I was thorough I might have met with Vanessa’s lesbian lover Jane. How about Jade. Maybe that name rings a bell. See I’m just speculating here. But I’m pretty good at speculating. The same way some people are good at prospecting for oil. I’m good at speculating about people’s motives and their ties that bind. So I’m saying to myself. Anthony this Max fella got around. Hell, even the wife took a side trip now and then. So if I was a gambler I would make a bet that maybe this attractive woman sitting across from me. Sulan here.” Sulan shifted in her chair. She crossed her legs and crossed her arms in front of her. She bladed her body away from me. She wasn’t liking them apples I was offering.
“So Anthony, I’m thinking to myself. Do you figure there is an outside chance that this attractive woman here might have known Max in a biblical way? An intimate way? Is it possible that Sulan and Max tangled their naked legs together? Crumpled bed sheets together? Maybe they explored the hills and valleys of their naked bodies together. Maybe I’m right. Do you think I’m right Sulan?”
She was looking down at something. Maybe there was a curious little bug on the floor I couldn’t see. Maybe she was thinking of squashing it. Maybe she was pissed off. Her right leg was swinging back and forth on top of her left. She was biting her lower lip. I wouldn’t have minded a taste either. I sipped my tea. It was still damn hot. So I dipped my biscotti in it instead and waited for pins to drop. After a while she looked at me. By now I had pulled on my best aw shucks farm boy smile. It was tired, but it was tired from use. It worked well.
“Okay fine. So what I was sleeping with Max? You don’t know the half of it.”
Her legs and arms were still crossed. Her arms pushing up small but taut breasts shielded by a cream long sleeve shirt that had no buttons but ample V in the neck. I was thanking my good fortune for the bounty that I had experienced of late. She’d make any man proud. I bet Max was a proud man. She wasn’t biting her lip anymore. I was wondering if I could take a turn now. Her lips were red as cherries and as juicy.
“I bet I don’t know the half of it Sulan. That’s why I’m here. You know the other half and I want you to share that with me. Believe it or not, we might be on the same team. If you didn’t kill him that is.” She rolled her eyes like that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard in her life. I was meeting a lot of attractive women. And all of them were rolling their eyes. It was like I was at a pinball arcade and I wasn’t winning.
I continued on valiantly. “See the thing is. I’m not here to judge you. You want to go banging a married man that’s really not my concern.” There she went to lip biting again. “Seriously I don’t care about it. I might not understand it. Hell, I don’t understand a lot of things. Like why people keep falling for get rich quick schemes? Or how an attractive woman like you could fall for a dog like Max? But hey that’s me. But what I do want to understand is who killed Max? And I believe you can help me with that. Am I right?”
She bit her inner cheek. I bet it tasted better. Maybe she was chewing me up in her mind and wanted to spit me out. Maybe that’s what she thought. I waited a while. I’m a patient man. I could be canonized when I’m dead. I tried my tea again. I blew on it first, that helped. I dipped more biscotti in the tea and ate it. People don’t like silence. I think I might have said that before. Doesn’t bother me. Maybe because I’ve gotten too much chit chat happening in my mind. Maybe I just like the peace and quiet. That and long moonlit walks on the beach.
“I didn’t do it.” That’s the best she could come up with. She was looking at me out of the corner of her eye. Arms still crossed. I stole a glance at her cleavage. She wasn’t biting her lips anymore. Or her cheek.
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” I said. Followed by a genuine smile.
She looked at me still from the corner of her eye.
“Well what do you want from me?”
“I want us to have a chat. Talk about things. Pretend I’m Tom Cruise. You were giggling then. You could giggle some more.”
I was getting places. Slowly. She squeezed a smile onto her face but only for a second. So I ventured on.
“Listen Sulan. I don’t really think you did it. But I’ve gotta tell you, I’m trying to get to the bottom of this and I think you can help me with that. Let’s pretend that I’m the police. And you’ve just tried calling me. And now I’m calling you back.”
I held my right han
d up to my ear like it was a telephone. Thumb pointing at the ceiling. Pinkie at my mouth.
“Hi Sulan. This is Captain John Roberts from LAPD Homicide. I understand you called about the Max Ernst murder. Do you have some information for us?”
I took the phone, my hand from my ear and opened up my palm towards her. See if she’d take the bait. I got a new and improved smile. I got her bladed body facing me and I got her arms untangled. The crevasse of her cleavage became a shallow dale.
“Okay,” she said. “I wanted to talk to the police about the murder. I’ve been getting threatening telephone calls from Max’s old lawyer Luke Logan.”
“Why is that? I met with Luke just yesterday and he didn’t give me any indication that anything was wrong. He did however, say that you were getting a tidy sum from the estate.”
She waved that off. “Yes, Max left me just over a million dollars. He was going to leave me more. He was talking about changing the will and he had already sought another lawyer. Jack Stein is his name. They had done up a draft copy and Max had left one at home at his office in the desk, he said, and he’d left one at the office in the safe and I’m afraid I don’t know the combination for it.”
I nodded, this whole schmozzle was getting more interesting all the time. I didn’t remember seeing a legal document in the desk drawer.
“Do you have Jack’s number so we can verify it?”
“Yes.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a business card. She handed it to me. it read Stein and Weingarten. Nice simple card. White with royal blue printing. I pulled out my phone and called him.
“You don’t mind if I give him a call right now?”
“Not at all. I hadn’t thought of calling him, but now I think I should.” She leaned in closer to me. Elbows on the table. I had her captured attention. A woman’s voice bright and sparkling like sun off the paint of cars at a used car dealership answered. After she’d given me her short spiel I asked for Jack Stein. She asked who I was and what it was about etcetera etcetera.
“Hi Jack here.”
“Hi Jack. My name’s Anthony Carrick. I’m here with Sulan Lui.”
“Right.”
“Listen. I’m a private detective and I’m trying to get to the bottom of this Max Ernst murder. Sulan told me that Max was hiring you to write a new will. Is that right?”
“Anthony, can you do me a favor please and put Sulan on the phone? I don’t feel comfortable speaking about Max or Sulan without knowing I have permission. I hope you understand.”
“Of course,” I said. I gave the phone to Sulan. She urged him to be forthcoming with me. What a sweetheart. She gave me the phone.
“Can you speak Jack.”
“Sure Anthony. Yes, Max was seeking my guidance on re-writing his will. He was very dissatisfied with his current advocate. I’m sure you know who that is?” I nodded but didn’t say anything. Not that he could see me.
“So why did he want to re-draft his will?” I loved the open ended questions. It was like looking at a wide open valley. You never knew what bounty you might get.
“Well we were also doing up a divorce agreement. He had told me that he wanted to get divorced from his wife and was looking to marry Sulan in the future.” I frowned at that. One nice little morsel. “Apparently, his wife was in bed with his current lawyer and they were making excessive demands on him to change the will and the prenup. Are you familiar with the prenup Anthony?”
I shook my head. “No I’m not. I’ve heard a couple of different versions of it however.”
“Well there is only one prenup. It was drawn up a long time ago. Twenty or so years. I say that, because back then Max was just coming out of film school and didn’t have the resources that he currently has. So none of this would have been at issue at the time. The prenup Anthony, allows for either spouse to divorce the other in the case of infidelity with no monetary obligation at the time of the divorce or in the future. In other words. The divorce under such grounds precludes any payment. Not a big deal when you’re in your twenties and in love but poor. It was Max’s father’s idea by the way. In hindsight a very smart idea. As you know Max is worth tens of millions, so this now becomes important.” I stopped him there.
“Vanessa told me that there was an inclusion that she would get a settlement. Made it sound like a few million dollars.”
“Well that’s just not the case. I have Max’s original prenup here in my office. There is no such inclusion.”
Sulan was trying to listen in. I was trying to hold the phone away from my ear but I wasn’t sure how good she could hear it. She was leaning in a lot. I could’ve been getting a longer view of her cleavage. But I’m a gentleman. That and I had to focus on the task at hand. I looked at the scratches and scuffs in the table instead.
“Okay. So tell me what kind of things he was looking at changing?”
Jack coughed on the other line. “Well you haven’t seen the draft then have you? It was in his office apparently. In his desk drawer.”
“No,” I said. “The desk drawer was ransacked but it didn’t look like anything had been taken. But now perhaps there was.”
“Well not to worry. He also had a copy at his studio office and of course I have a hard copy and electronic copy here with me. However, as I’ve said, they’re just drafts and haven’t been signed yet, so they’re not valid anyway.”
Looking around the café I saw more people spilling in. It was getting busier.
“Basically he was talking about splitting his estate fifty fifty with his son and Sulan. Stephen’s half being in trust until he overcame his difficulties. Max was going to keep the house although that was in both his and his wife’s name. She could squeeze about one or so million from that. Other than that she’d be done. I understand she’s got expensive taste. I don’t see a mill lasting long with her. He was also going to rely on the prenup to divorce her. Citing infidelity, and as a ballsy move he was also going to throw in mental cruelty. The mental cruelty angle would be more of a challenge but we’ve got ample evidence on the infidelity. As a matter of fact I might be pursuing a disbarment for our friend Mr. Logan. Clearly screwing around with your client’s wife is not up to any ethical standards that the state bar would tolerate I’m sure. Not to mention that he might be party to a criminal offense too.”
“So you have evidence of this alleged indiscretion?”
“I wouldn’t call it alleged anymore Anthony. We have hard evidence. Video and audio taped evidence. Some time before Max came to see me he had hired a private investigator to snoop on his wife as he suspected she was being indiscreet behind his back. Now they had an ‘open’ relationship if you want to call it that, but this was taboo. For obvious reasons. She had started whining and complaining about the prenup and that got him wondering. Mr. Logan was also gently trying to persuade him to revisit the prenup too. So he hired this private investigator by the name of.” There was some shuffling of papers I could hear. “Uh, his name was Reginald Lugen. Funny that, similar to Logan. Anyway Anthony, as you probably appreciate, we’re creatures of habit and after a couple of weeks tailing Ms. Ernst he determined that they frequented this hotel, the Holiday Inn Express up in Valencia. So he wired the room they frequented often. Apparently Luke is big on Feng Shui and thought a specific room number and location offered protection from bad elements or something. I don’t quite understand it that much but it worked in our favor. This Reginald guy was definitely worth his salt. So Max gave me all this evidence, if you will, for safe keeping.”
“So you still have it?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think they know about it?”
“I doubt it. Max kept it under wraps and asked me not to do anything about it until or unless something happened to him. Needless to say, I’ll be speaking with the police very soon. I suspect foul play now and I think we have a couple of good suspects.”
“Yes we do. Listen, can you hold off until tomorrow before calling the LAPD on this. I just need to wrap
this up for myself ever so slightly before the police do. My employer would benefit greatly from that, as would I. They’ll be bringing Vanessa in anytime now so I don’t think there’s any harm with holding out just half a day.”
“Sure Anthony. Max is dead anyhow. But I’m worried about Sulan. She’s received some anonymous threatening phone calls, but we believe we know who they’re from, but there is no proof. So I will adamantly be calling the police tomorrow with this. If only for Sulan’s sake.”
I nodded. “I understand,” I said. “So as things stand right now. The draft will you were drawing up is not valid. The prenup sticks but is moot. And the original will still holds court. Is that right?”
“Yes. And that means Mrs. Ernst will get the bulk of the estate if she isn’t charged of course, and she and her snake in the grass will live happily ever after. But I’m confident that will not happen. So just to put your mind at ease Anthony. Sulan does not benefit from killing Max until after this draft will comes into affect. Now it never will, so if there is any remaining doubt about Sulan’s innocence I’d erase that now. All she’ll get is one point two million instead of twenty times or more that amount if the new will had ever come into affect.”
“Fair enough Jack. I appreciate your candidness.” I smiled at Sulan. She eased back into her chair.
“No problem Anthony. Remember though, I’m very concerned about Sulan and I will adamantly be phoning the police first thing in the morning. Please keep an eye out for her in the meantime.”
“Yes indeed. Don’t worry about that.”
I had struck a vein of gold. It was time to wrap this baby up in a swaddling blanket so tight it would never move. I hung up on Jack. I was fired up and ready to tangle. I looked at Sulan. I saw her full cherry lips smiling at me.
“It’s official,” I said. “You’re innocent according to Jack. And according to me too.”
“Well that’s a relief,” she said and she might have been facetious. I didn’t care. I was going to squeeze every last drop of information from her. I was loading my arsenal and I wanted to pack all the ammo I could find.
Anthony Carrick Hardboiled Murder Mysteries: Box Set (Books 1 - 3) Page 27