Murder Most Floral

by Judith Mehl

  “Do you think this guy’s legit, then? You did scope out the hotel for any cops, right?” Chandler said, gulping down the hot brew.

  “Not a cop in sight. I was there several times a day. Tried to mix it up so I’d catch someone no matter what the schedule.”

  “Sure wish we’d found Briggs. I knew we should have put one of our own guys on the job.”

  Come on boss. None of us know how to set legitimate fires.”

  Chandler raised his brows at that, but Akins hurried on before he could comment. “You know what I mean. Fires that don’t point right to us. Briggs is a pro. It should have worked out fine.”

  “Right. That’s why we don’t even dare approach that Jones guy again to force a sale because we don’t know what happened.” His voice escalated with his ire. “And we sure as hell don’t know what happened to Briggs.”

  “There was a fire. I saw a fire truck. Do you think Briggs died in the fire?”

  “We aren’t so lucky.”

  Slamming his chair out of the way Chandler launched himself out the back door to blow off steam. The chair toppled and the hobbled leg broke again. The windows were so thin it sounded like a rifle shot. He looked back and Akins stood hesitant in the doorway, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Damn, I’ve got to make up my mind about meeting Alden. He and his man agreed to the paper signing and the transfer of funds for the development. All my paperwork is official and looking okay to even an attorney, right?”

  Before Akins could even nod, he continued, “Allen looks good on paper, too. Not that we could find much. So does that mean there’s dead fish in his background, too?”

  “Heh, heh. We cleaned up our fish. Checked everything we could. Let’s move forward. What will you do once you have his money? Abscond with it as soon as the transfer goes through?”

  “No. this time I plan to develop something.”

  Akins almost dropped his mug in reaction.

  Chandler saw it and understood. They always took off. He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone. He wanted to talk and Akins was all he had. “I named Maura World Development after my mother. This time I’m stickin.’”

  This time Akins jaw dropped. Chandler wasn’t amused, though he could understand. He could tell Akins thought it was a sentimental thing.

  The guy finally closed his mouth long enough to form a question. “You named it after your mother?”

  “Yeah, she loved the wilderness of this area. Hated living in town and wanted ‘property.’ Treated me like dirt. I want to think of her every time I watch the construction tear up the property she so loved.”

  Chandler could tell Akins recognized that kind of sentiment. He added, “I’m tired of running. We have some of the property. We’ll get the rest.”

  Chandler didn’t need to explain to him about farm fires, or eliminating problems. “I will get the rest.”

  “So where’s the scam?”

  “We don’t really have signatures for all the property we need. That’s all. And my funds, though listed as part of the package, are non-existent.”

  “Oh. right. That five mil you supposedly put down. So what’s the plan?”

  He scanned the decrepit furniture in the room looking for a safe seat. Finding none, he said, “We’re moving to Ackermann’s house. At least his furniture’s in the right century. We actually own the place, even though it looks pathetic. We’ll call Allen from there and offer to show him the view. If we can keep him from going inside he won’t know how bad it is.”

  He grabbed the car keys and tossed them to Akins. “Let’s move.”

  Akins caught the keys and revved the engine before Chandler settled in the passenger seat. If nothing else, Akins knew how to drive. And he could be trusted. It got him thinking.

  “I don’t trust this guy so it’s good we’re changing plans. Keep him off guard. If he’s legit. No problem. If not, there’s a cliff on the edge of old man Ackermann’s property. No wonder the farmer couldn’t make that place profitable. We will. One way or another.”

  Chapter 33

  Some people tend to cover up their handwriting characteristics by seldom writing anything the public will see. Others “cover up” by using rigid letter forms and inflexible and rigid beginning strokes.

  “Hey Mr. Alden. Harrison Chandler asked me to call.” The speaker cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “You wanted to see more of the development land. He wants to give you a closer look. He’d like to change the meeting location from your office to a site on the property.”

  Nick cradled the phone is his ear and cringed at the change in plans. He signaled his crew with his hand waving in circles in the air while he talked. They had 15 minutes before he had to leave. Was viewing the site location legitimate rationale for changing plans at the last minute? He couldn’t be sure and there was no way he could act suspicious. They’d have to go along.

  Lewis said, “Lance already reviewed the contract yesterday. On the surface it seems legal.”

  It’s okay Lewis, our main hope is still that Chandler will sign the contract, thereby conducting a fraudulent scheme to present their troubled finances as sound,” Nick reminded him. “The lack of property commitment is only one sign. It just proved to me that this plan is not legit.”

  “I guess that’s why Lance is the whiz at all this stuff and not me. But they may have seen him. So I’ll be with you, ostensibly as your attorney to watch out if he tries to pull anything.”

  “You’re right. I’d feel much better if Lance had been able to determine if Maura World Development had any money geared to this project, or any money at all. The fact that its other projects are murky tells me Chandler’s pulling something. I sure wish we had some proof.”

  “Uh, boss. Did you ever have Kat analyze this guy’s handwriting?”

  Nick stopped what he was doing long enough to give him the evil eye. “Gee, ya think that would have been a good idea? Of course, we tried. The guy never left one scrap of paper anywhere, not even half a handwritten word. Not even a signature. We’re winging it here.”

  “Okay, we’ll get the proof, boss. We’re almost there.”

  Nick sat down and reviewed the directions, then called them in to G.L.

  Tom signaled him, waving the map frantically. “Looks like that’s Gunther Ackermann’s place. This could be kosher.”

  Nick heard G.L. shouting to the men in the security agency office. Those guys were closer and could be there in ten minutes to set up surveillance, hopefully before Chandler and his gang arrived. With one ear to the phone, he also hailed his men to go. Only Lewis, and Tom were there right now. They’d have to call Lance on the way.

  G.L. must have heard him shouting, too. He came back on the phone. “Don’t forget their names. What’s Lewis called?”

  “He’s my personal assistant, Art Doufle. And, I’ll remember. Tom’s easy. He’s Tommy O’Shea.”

  “Where did you come up with such crappy names? Tom doesn’t even have a bit of blarney in him.”

  “Not now. And you should talk, G.L.”

  “All right. Me and my men are rolling. We’ve got everything we can think of, considering we don’t have a clue if this guy even plans to attempt anything but foul play with a pen.”

  “What a nightmare. This sounds like a farce. You and your men, me and my men and Chandler and his men. We just need a dance routine.”

  “Okay. Don’t lose it now. It’s almost over.”

  Tom drove while Nick checked that their man-to-man communication system functioned. The banter was over as they all arranged their wireless ear buds and reviewed the one word signals. Nick reviewed for everyone. He listed objectives and how best to accomplish them. He added. “I would love to get these guys for the fires. There’s no proof. And as strange as it seemed that Maura World Development would have any reason to harm two elderly women, the coincidence rattles me. I sure could have used the real development plans before we close this deal.”

  Tom pinned hi
m down. “If you don’t have their signed contract you can’t get them on fraud charges.”

  “Okay, above all, I have to get Chandler’s signature on the papers as currently written. Sounds easy, right?”

  “No, but then we have them for fraud and can squeeze them for the rest.”

  Tom turned off the highway. They still had a few miles to go on the country road so he floored it as best he could in the gravel.

  Nick added, “Right, fraud? or murder? I don’t think they’ll squeal too fast.”

  G.L. spoke in his ear. “I’m flying past the farm now. Don’t see much. We’ll head around to the trees and set up camp. Did you reach Lance, yet?”

  “He’s on his way. I left a message on Hill’s cell. I thought we could keep them in the loop. They must be circling other wagons today.”

  Tom offered Nick another thought. “If Chandler hands you a new contract, read it carefully for changes before you sign.”

  “Yeah, I’ll have to speed read them and hope I don’t miss any miniscule changes that will sign away our benefactor’s five million loan.”

  Chapter 34

  The connective form, whether it be rounded, inversed, arched or threadlike is a basic characterizing feature of all handwriting. It discloses neuromuscular functioning and psychosocial attitudes. The garland, rounded and opening upward, is an easy, flowing motion suggesting adaptability.

  The sun chiseled a peephole through the fog to announce dawn. Agatha gathered her courage as she packed. She needed to call the Mountain View Regional Police at just the right time. Her bag sat by the outside door. It didn’t contain everything she’d accumulated here—just enough for a day or two. She’d heard the men planning yesterday. Her plans didn’t include being shepherded around by a police escort just to keep her away from the action. Staying here all week drove her berserk. When the clock struck 8:00 a.m. she forced herself to wait an extra two minutes. Mercy, time goes slow when you can’t think. Every part of her started to twitch as she waited.

  The sun shone weakly through the hotel room windows when Agatha made her call and identified herself. “Sergeant, as you know, the Petingill and Donnelly Security Agency is very involved right now in a case. Nick asked me to call the police department and cancel the request for a police escort for me.”

  In a weaker voice she said, “I forgot the name of the man Nick told me so I was hoping you could connect me with him or give him the message.” She walked to the end of the bed and back to the phone on the nightstand. The cord wasn’t long enough to allow her full range of the room. Her nerves would have preferred that.

  “No, no. Everything is fine. Just a change of plans. I’m glad the policeman’s right there. If you could just tell him for me? Thank you so much. Anything new on the deaths of my friends? No? Well. I was just hoping.”

  She breathed deeply and sat on the edge of the bed a minute before she put the more difficult plan into action, but she was determined. When she felt a little more calm, she tiptoed over to the outer door and opened it. Her knuckles would be bruised from the effort. She managed a loud knocking. She’d kept her voice low while pretending to talk with a policeman but this time she wanted to be heard.

  Agatha made some mumbling sounds near the inner door, then opened it part way. “The officer is here for me now, Lewis. Would you tell Nick that we’re out of here for the day?”

  Lewis appeared deep into something on the computer. She knew he’d come in at dawn to start work. He didn’t even turn his head from watching the screen as he acknowledged her request. Even though his reaction fell right into her plans, it caused her a twinge of worry. I hope something isn’t going wrong with their case. She grabbed her bag and scurried toward the elevator, fearful of making another phone call from the room. At the last minute she swerved and headed further down the hall to the stairway. It’s worth it to avoid seeing anyone.

  The trip left her winded. She took a breath and peered through the doorway before entering the lobby. She glanced around as quickly as possible. The few times she’d been allowed out they’d never brought her through the front door. She found the alcove for phone booths and firmly marched over there as if she belonged. She’d already looked up the number of a cab company and pulled it out of her pocket. She speedily dialed, made her request, then ducked deeper into the alcove for the ten minutes the cab company estimated it would take to arrive. Fortunately, no one else needed to make a call during that time. Luck was still with her.

  Agatha settled Kat’s hat on her head and stuck a judicious pin or two for security since it was tipped so low any breeze might blow it off. She forced her legs into stroll mode and moved through the front doors. The Mountain View Cab pulled up as she reached the curb.

  She settled in, stuffing her bag on the floor at her feet. Though the hat was borrowed, the comfy shoes were definitely her own. There were some unacceptable limits to disguises.

  The cabbie waited patiently.

  Agatha said, “Do you know how to shake a tail?”

  The wizened man turned to stare at her. His face scrunched up even more as he looked around at the deserted road beyond the hotel drive. “Lady, there’s no one to shake.”

  “I know that. I meant can you get me where I’m going without letting someone follow me?”

  Again he looked around. He appeared to be an honest man. His next words convinced her, even though they made her feel foolish. “Lady, we’re in Mountain View. Where do you want me to take you?”

  “Grandham.”

  This time he grinned and his face opened up. “Okay. You got me, lady. This is a joke, right?”

  She stared back at his jovial countenance and didn’t blink. “No. I want to go to Grandham.”

  “But that’s only fifteen minutes from here, even taking back roads and switching around a little in case there is someone ‘tailing’ you. No one can follow you without seeing them, because there won’t be any other cars on the road.” He turned around and started the cab. “You’re from the city, right? Do they tail you there?”

  Agatha twitched her fingers in agitation, then realized she was doing it. Where was her quilting when she needed to calm down? She didn’t realize how emotional a cab ride home would be. She answered him, only forced serenity heard in her voice,“No, I’m from Grandham. Born and bred. I’ve just been having this little problem lately. Please drive.”

  As the car entered the road, she saw the cabbie look very carefully in both directions. Nothing in sight. So he turned towards Grandham. “What problem would that be? What kind would make you worried about a tail?”

  “Right now I’m hoping to avoid the police.”

  “You’re not wanted by the police, are you?”

  She smiled. Obviously, his knowledge of suspects didn’t include little old ladies. Then derailed him even more. “Someone’s trying to kill me.”

  The brakes screeched at that. He managed to get the cab under control and he drove forward with even more caution. This time she saw him glance around more slowly, studying the woods for anything that could hide a man. This area, like much of the Poconos, had been scoured by deer. Nothing grew under five feet. It made it easier to see that no men were lurking with guns.

  “Lady, will they have guns?”

  “No idea, but I received a bouquet, and my friends who did, are dead. That’s why I was in hiding. She lowered her voice, talking to herself. “Nick’s going to kill me.”

  He straightened in his seat. She waited for what he would say next and feared he would want to dump her along side the road.

  “Lady, don’t you think you’d be happier with a police escort?”

  She could see he didn’t want to shirk his job or leave her stranded but she’d thrown an unknown at him. Apparently, he’d never driven a potential murder victim around. She kept the floppy hat on. She genuinely felt no one would be following her since no one supposedly knew where she’d been staying but Donnelly’s men had instilled a certain amount of attentiveness in her. She
looked at today’s venture as an essential reprieve, to reenergize and regroup. Still, she tried to explain simply.

  “I had some security people guarding me. When they wanted to hand me over to the police for protection I slipped away. I need some time in my own home. I don’t think anyone will look for me there. I’ve been gone for days.”

  The cabbie turned avuncular. She could tell by the way he stammered trying not to hurt her feelings while explaining how that wasn’t such good thinking. “I don’t know why someone is trying to kill you but it seems to me you should have stuck with the police. Real close to the police, if you know what I mean.”

  Seeing him studying her in the rear view mirror, she smiled in an attempt to alleviate his qualms. Her words did the opposite. “I have no idea why someone wants to kill me. That’s part of our problem. The police have no reason to protect me. This was just a favor for the morning to get me out of the way while the men who were guarding me dealt with an emergency.”

  The cabbie seemed confused. By this time he was pulling into her driveway. He assisted her out of the car and walked her to the door. “Let me just look around a bit. Make sure no one broke in or anything.”

  He circled the house and announced no signs of disturbance. “I tried the back door and it was locked. All the windows seem to be locked, too. Want me to go inside with you?”

  She knew this was beyond the call for a cab driver and gave him a large tip as she held his hand in both of hers. “You’ve been very kind and helpful. I’ll be fine now. Thank you so much.”

  Reluctant to leave, he handed her a card after penciling in a number. “Lady, you call me if you want to leave, or if you need help.”

  She nodded, tears in her eyes at his concern.