“Not in the least. I know the Murphys but not well. On a few occasions when they had a dental emergency they would call and I’d patch ‘em up until they could get back to their regular dentist. If I recall correctly, the husband is quite a bit older than his wife.”
“Like you and me,” grinned Lew.
“No-o-o,” said Osborne, going along with the tease. “Like I would guess a twenty to twenty-five year age difference. George was in his sixties when that boy was born.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Mary Lee and her friends. They were always intrigued with the rich folk from down south, including Nolan’s parents and certainly Nolan herself. Up until she was in her late teens, she would stay at her grandfather’s for a month or so every summer. He let her join the water-ski club one year and rumors flew that she might marry a local boy. I always got that gossip as romance among the wealthy summer people was the favorite topic for discussion among the regulars at Mary Lee’s bridge table. That and conniving to have their daughters meet the young men who were heirs to all that Chicago money.”
“Ah,” said Lew.
“Speaking of age differences, that reminds me, Lewellyn—if my old roommate and his wife who’ve been parked in my house for six excruciating weeks hadn’t decided to move out yesterday, I was planning to call on you for help.”
“What—hand them an eviction notice?” Lew asked the question even as she was already sorting through the pages of her notepad and had her hand on the phone ready to make the next call.
“Not exactly. I was planning to tell them they had to move out because you were moving in.”
Lew took her hand off the phone. “Oh, I was—was I?”
“Yes, for at least twenty years—which would preclude their being able to park their stuff in my garage. We would need the storage.”
Lew gave him a long look with laughter in her eyes. “But they moved out.”
“Yes, they did. But that doesn’t mean they won’t be back. Furnace might not work in the cabin they’re renting, doncha know.”
“Good try, Doc. I appreciate the thought.”
“I know—but now I can tell my daughters I tried. Right?”
“You can tell them that and you can tell them I’m treating you to for fish fry tonight because you are working one long Friday—don’t take that jacket off.”
Bud Olentowski, Nolan’s stockbroker who, with his wife, had been at the Reeces’ party, had offices just three blocks from the Loon Lake Police Department headquarters. A brisk walk on the cold November day. “Brrr!” said Lew as they hurried along. “The lakes have to freeze over with weather like this. It’s so late not to have ice yet.”
“Loon Lake is still open,” said Osborne. “First Thanksgiving I remember with open water.” As he opened the door to the brokerage firm, he said, “So we’re seeing Bud—”
“Bud and his wife, Linda. She agreed to meet with us here as well.”
The couple was waiting for them in Bud’s office. Bud, a heavy-set, genial man with florid features thanks to an appetite for red meat and neat scotch, had inherited a business built by his father and grandfather. His wife, Linda, who was in her early sixties, had been in Mary Lee’s garden club. As gracious as her husband was genial, she was alarmingly thin. Osborne remembered as he walked into the room that she had had a recent brush with cancer.
“We were stunned to get your call yesterday,” said Linda, getting to her feet to shake hands. She was dressed in a simple black pants suit and an ivory shirt, her short hair tucked behind her ears and no make-up that Osborne could see. “I can’t imagine this happening to Nolan.”
“An absolute shock,” said Bud as they all sat down. The Olentowskis had listened intently as Lew sketched in what was known and what she hoped to hear from them. It was Bud who answered first. “We were there for dinner from a little after six and stayed until around ten fifteen or so. Is that right, Linda?”
“Yes. And Nolan had planned a lovely evening to celebrate Blue’s engagement. Just family and close friends—you’ve mentioned everyone who was there: both families, including those darling
Indian girls that Nolan dotes on. Then us and the Pokorny’s.” “And the catering staff,” added Osborne. “Yes,” said Linda. “No one else?” said Lew.
The husband and wife stared at each other, thinking. “Someone must have dropped the girls off. It wasn’t Blue because she was late for some reason. I remember Nolan getting irritated over that … But whoever their ride was didn’t stay,” said Linda.
And so the conversation went with Lew asking questions about the evening and Osborne taking notes. Both Linda and Bud agreed that Nolan and her husband seemed relaxed as the evening progressed with no noticeable incidents beyond the spilling of a glass of wine.
“And Frances and Josie were there the entire evening?” said Lew.
“Yes, though Nolan had arranged for them to watch a movie after dinner—down in the family room—so they didn’t have to be bored by us grown ups.
“They’re Nolan’s pets, you see,” said Linda. “She discovered the girls last year and made a big deal about how she wanted to include them in the family and see that they had opportunities—like, you know, education, nice clothes—have a better sense of what they might achieve in life. I thought it rather an odd arrangement myself that they would live at that teeny little shop during the week but spend the weekend at the Reeces’ mansion. Quite an economic disparity if you know what I mean.”
“Now, Linda,” her husband cautioned, “the difference was not that extreme. The girls are getting a good education in the Loon Lake school system and it made no sense to change their routines until the adoptions went through.”
“Oh?” said Lew. “I haven’t heard that they were going to be adopted.”
“Bud …” It was Linda’s turn to caution. “My husband doesn’t know all the details. Initially Nolan had planned to adopt both girls but just recently she’d begun to question if she could handle both. Little Josie is a cutie and gets along with everyone, but that Frances—well, Nolan and I had discussed that she might need counseling.”
“She needs counseling?!” Bud exploded. “I’d say Nolan Reece is the one needing counseling.”
“Now, Bud,” said Linda, in a chastising tone. “Ignore him. Nolan could be frustrating. Back to Frances—it was just that no matter what Nolan did for her, she couldn’t get the girl to open up. Very introverted young woman. We thought something in her childhood maybe.”
Lew turned to Bud and said, “Off the subject of the guests that evening and moving on here—am I to understand that Nolan Reece was worth over a billion dollars?”
“Oh, gosh, no,” said Bud, “who the heck said that? For a time she was a very wealthy woman but no, not that much. After the family firm was sold, I’d say sixty million at the most.”
“A very successful businesswoman from the sound of it,” said Lew. “Sixty million dollars is a lot of money.”
“Was a lot of money,” said Bud sitting up and pulling his chair forward. “This requires some explaining. Nolan’s grandfather was one of the lumber barons of the early 1900s. When he died, his son, her father, took over and sold off most of the forestland, diversifying the family fortune. He got into drugstores—built a huge chain of drugstores. And he ran that company until the day he died of a heart attack at his desk. So Nolan’s family has owned the lake property up here since her grandfather’s day. It was after her father died that Nolan tore down the original estate to build that beautiful home you see today. Quite a place, isn’t it?”
“Her mother had died years earlier,” added Linda, “so Nolan
inherited everything.”
“This was about eight years ago,” said Bud. “Nolan thought she could take over and run this financial conglomerate that her father had managed so well even though she had no training, no experience and, trust me, no people skills.”
“Careful, Bud, you don’t want to imply she was
a bad person.”
“She was a bad manager,” said Bud, ignoring his wife. “She was awful. Her father had hired very bright guys over the years, lieutenants he could trust to run their divisions without his micromanaging. But Nolan never understood the value of listening to those people, of trusting them to make good decisions. I don’t know whose advice she took but it was bad. Within a year, good people were fleeing that organization in droves.
“All that saved her was that the old man had never taken it public, so when the revenues tanked she didn’t have shareholders to battle. At least she was smart enough to know things were going downhill, so when an offer, a good offer, came out of the blue—she took it. Sold the company lock, stock and barrel.”
“She had no people skills, you say.” Lew tapped her pen thoughtfully on her notepad.
“She could be a lovely person, but volatile,” said Bud. “Your best friend one minute and outraged over some small thing the next. And bullheaded. Once she made her mind up, she never backed down. It was her way or the highway.”
“But once you know her, you understand that—and she’s been known to apologize,” said Linda.
“You two appear to have gotten along with her,” said Lew.
“She was, for a while, my biggest account,” said Bud. “I’m not going to lie to you. I have had to work for every penny. Linda knows that.” He shot his wife a quick glance. “I had stressful days with Nolan but I sure as hell didn’t have reason to hurt the woman. She hurt herself plenty already.” “What do you mean by that?” said Lew.
“I mean she took bad advice. Two years ago, right after sinking a ton of money into that house, she invested every remaining penny she had in a hedge fund run by some numbnut in Lake Forest. It tanked big time nine months ago.”
“Are you saying she lost sixty million dollars?”
“Yep. The woman went broke. Well, maybe not broke by our standards—she had a couple hundred thousand in bonds still, which she had me to thank for. The property is mortgaged to the hilt, too. But the sixty million? Vaporized.” There was silence in the office.
Linda’s voice was soft as she asked, “Is there any possibility this was a suicide?”
“Afraid not,” said Lew. She turned towards Osborne. “Doc, anything you want to ask here?”
“Just one thing,” said Osborne. “Were either of you aware of anyone leaving the party early? Aside from the girls watching a movie in the family room?”
“You know, it was one of those evenings where you all go along having a pleasant time,” said Linda, “then someone looks at their watch and it’s later than you think. So, with the exception of Blue and Barry who were standing with Andy waving goodnight to all of us, I think we all left together.”
“Did you think it was odd that Nolan wasn’t there?” said Osborne.
“Not really,” said Linda, “she’d had quite a bit to drink. She was starting to slur her words. We thought she went up to her bedroom and passed out.”
“This is very helpful,” said Lew. “I want to thank you both for your time. And I’m very likely to have to call you again with more
questions.”
“Please,” said Bud as he and Linda got to their feet, “don’t hesitate. Even though Nolan could be difficult, we considered her a dear friend. Like family, y’know, they’re kinda wacky and some days you love ‘em to death—while other days you could kill the suckers.”
At the stricken look on his wife’s face, he shut up.
CHAPTER 18
I still don’t believe it. When Vern told me about it last night—I was sure someone had it all wrong! Nolan Reece dead? Un-n-n-believable.”
Marge Pokorny had rushed to her husband’s law office within minutes of taking his phone call in her office at the Loon Lake High School where she was a guidance counselor. After arriving—though encouraged to join Lew and Osborne and take one of the chairs in front of her husband’s desk—she ignored the request, choosing instead to pace back and forth at the back of the room, arms flailing.
“You’re telling me there was a murderer somewhere close to their house that night? While we were there? Stalking us?” she said, pointing at her chest. Raking her short black hair back with both hands, she turned to her husband, eyes wide with disbelief. “How can this be happening?”
Lew threw Osborne a glance: she had only so much time for drama queens.
Osborne winked. He knew the drill.
“Mrs. Pokorny,” he said, his voice low and calm—a tone he had found worked wonders to disarm the hysteria of patients terrified at the thought of the dentist’s drill—”you and your husband are key witnesses. Whatever you tell us will be of great value to the
investigation and the sooner we can get started, the sooner Chief Ferris will be able to resolve this very serious situation. People are at risk and we need your help.”
Osborne knew the Pokornys from a distance as they also attended St. Mary’s early morning Mass on Sundays. Of medium height, Vern was a nice-looking man in his mid-forties with straight black hair, a moustache and a pleasant, easy-going manner. His wife was wound pretty tight—obvious from the way she would cuff her children if they fooled around during Mass. Dark-haired like her husband, Marge was short and wiry with intense dark eyes under the bangs outlining her heart-shaped face.
Vern had been at the sheriff’s department late in the evening on Thanksgiving Day assisting a client, another lawyer (who had just been arrested for his fourth DWI), when he’d heard the news of Nolan’s death mentioned on the scanner. He had called the switchboard immediately to leave a message that not only was he Nolan’s local legal counsel but that he and his wife had been at the engagement party the night before.
Lew had returned his call early that morning, assuring Vern that he was already on her list of people she needed to question. Given that his law office was just two blocks down from Bud Olentowski’s, it was agreed that she and Osborne come by right after the earlier meeting. Like Bud, he had arranged for his wife to sit in.
“Dr. Osborne’s right, Margie, hon,” said Vern. “Now would you sit down, please?”
“I’m sorry if I’m upset,” said Marge with a huff, “not like things like this happen everyday.” But she did as she was asked, then crossed her legs and started pumping her right foot up and down, up and down.
“So, Vern, Marge, you were at the Reeces’ from when to when exactly?” Lew asked.
“I would say we arrived around six thirty and left just after ten with everyone else,” said Vern.
Lew proceeded with a series of questions similar to the ones she had asked the Olentowskis. Vern and Marge had little to add to the events of the evening. They, too, had noticed that Nolan had had a lot to drink and hadn’t found it unusual that she retired—or so they thought—before the evening was over.
“Vern,” said Osborne, “as I was trying to complete the death certificate, Andy Reece said he was unsure of some of Nolan’s personal information and that you might be better able to answer. He wasn’t sure of her date of birth and he wasn’t sure which address to list as her permanent residence. May I say I find it a little odd that he would not know these things?”
“Certainly, I’ll do my best to fill in the blanks. In case you haven’t guessed, Andy and Nolan’s marriage has been. let’s say ‘platonic’ … for years, with Andy out of the loop of her personal affairs for quite some time now. He called here this morning and told me I have his approval to share whatever information you might need. Nolan regularly lied about her age—that’s why he was uncertain. And I think you should use the Loon Lake address as her permanent residence. She’s been living up here full time since the house was finished.”
“Close relatives aside from her daughter and her husband?”
“None. Her mother died years ago and her father passed away eight years ago. No siblings. In fact.,” Vern paused to open a thick folder resting in front of him, “Andy thought it might help if we take a look through a copy of the wi
ll. I’ll be dropping a copy off with the family later today as well.
“You’ll see the will is straightforward and includes the covenants of two trusts established by Nolan’s father, Norman Marsdon—one benefits Nolan, the other her daughter, Blue, who is referred to throughout as ‘Eleanor.’“
Vern flipped through several pages then said, “The official document is in the family safe deposit box down in Illinois but Nolan had me keep a copy here for reference back when she was selling the family firm. She had the right to sell the company and all related assets in her trust—but not the other. Her father was determined to protect some assets for his granddaughter. It’s as if he knew his daughter lacked good judgment when it came to business decisions.”
“What about Andy Reece?”
“He receives what remains in Nolan’s trust, which was not Nolan’s wish per se but state law.” Vern paused. “I understand you’ve spoken with Bud and you know the woman lost millions of dollars. Andy stands to inherit about two hundred thousand is all. What you may find interesting is the twenty million dollars that’s in the trust for Eleanor aka Blue.”
“Even though Nolan had control over that trust?”
“She couldn’t touch it.”
“But I thought—” said Osborne. “We were told by someone who knows the family that she had heard that Blue would be disinherited if she didn’t marry the man her mother wanted her to marry.”
“Typical Nolan—always bullshitting. Working with her over the years, I cannot tell you how easy it was for that woman to lie. She did it on purpose—to get her way, to intimidate people. So she couldn’t touch the trust or change the terms but she did have one small lever of control. One condition of the trust was to be kept secret—the simple fact that Nolan had no control over it.
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