Pesky Politicians in Las Vegas

by A. R. Winters

  “Patti Williams said they were both so busy, the only way they could spare time to talk to me was if they met me at the same time.”

  “You didn’t ask if they could meet you separately?”

  “No,” I said, “and they both have a good alibi. I checked the papers, and around the time when Carl died, they were having a joint meet-and-greet with local Vegas businessmen. It was a party event, so they both had to be there together. Photographers recorded the event and everything.”

  We pulled up to the Prince Albert Spa and Resort, an off-Strip hotel where they were both staying, and after I parked the car, we headed up to Senator Pritchett’s suite.

  When we knocked, a twenty-something-year-old woman with straight blond hair opened the door and peered out at us.

  “I’m Tiffany,” I said, “Ian and I have an appointment with Senator Pritchett now.”

  The blonde nodded. “Right this way.”

  We followed her into the lounge room of the suite, a large, leather-sofa-furnished area with a dining table off to one side. The dining table had been set up with two laptops, and papers were piled high on one end. I recognized Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove from their photographs, but there were four other people in the room, who I assumed were their aides.

  I had read that Senator Samantha Pritchett was in her early sixties, but she looked no older than a mid-fifty-something-year-old. Her short brown hair had been cut into a stylish bob, and she wore subtle makeup, gray slacks, and a white blouse. Her eyes were soft and warm, and she seemed pleased to meet Ian and me.

  Senator Chase Wingrove was in his late fifties, but his hair was a silvery gray. He was tall, and though his face was slightly wrinkled, he looked athletic and energetic. His blue eyes were sharp and intelligent, and he, too, seemed politely happy to meet Ian and me.

  The two of them introduced their aides, and Ian and I murmured polite greetings to everyone.

  After introductions had been made all around, I turned to Senator Pritchett and said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I like to have as few people in the room as possible what I’m talking about something like a murder investigation. It wouldn’t be possible for your aides to take a short break, would it?”

  “Oh, of course that’s possible!” said Senator Pritchett, and Senator Chase nodded in agreement.

  The aides didn’t look too pleased to be asked to leave the room, and I thought that perhaps they were slightly insecure about their jobs. They all had earnest, eager-to-please looks on their faces, and I wondered if it was stressful to work for two politicians who were running intense campaigns.

  When it was just the four of us, we all settled down onto sofas. Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove sat opposite each other, and Ian and I sat on the sofa that was adjacent to them. Both Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove looked at ease with each other, and I didn’t notice any obvious signs of enmity or annoyance.

  “It was nice of you to make time to meet us,” I said.

  “Not at all,” said Senator Pritchett. “It’s very sad what happened. Makes you worry about your own security a little.”

  “But you both have bodyguards,” said Ian. “And you’re staying in this hotel, which is probably safer than Carl’s house in Henderson.”

  “Yes,” said Senator Pritchett. “I do hope we’re safer.”

  “I read that at the time of Carl’s death, you were meeting a number of Vegas businessmen,” I said. “You were both at the same event together. Do you have to do a lot of things together?”

  Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove exchanged a glance and smiled at each other.

  “It’s often more convenient,” said Senator Pritchett. “A lot of supporters like to see us together, and it’s more convenient for them to go to one event instead of having to go to three different events.”

  “How come Carl wasn’t at that meet-and-greet?” said Ian. “Didn’t you invite him along?”

  Senator Wingrove laughed. “Oh, of course we invited him! It’s just that he thought he was too good to come to our events. Carl insisted on doing everything alone.”

  Senator Pritchett nodded. “He wasn’t very cooperative. He never came to our events, and he insisted on doing everything differently.”

  “Do you do a lot of joint events?” said Ian.

  “A fair few,” said Senator Pritchett. “In addition to the logistics, it looks good if we present a united front to the party. You don’t want to give off the impression that you’re bickering toddlers.”

  “But Carl didn’t see things that way,” Ian said.

  Senator Pritchett smiled thinly. “Carl saw a lot of things differently.”

  “Like what?” said Ian. “Of course, his policies were really different from yours.”

  Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove nodded.

  “His ideas about reducing women’s rights were absolutely abhorrent,” said Senator Pritchett. “He’d have been setting the country back decades, if not centuries.”

  “Our party doesn’t support that kind of stand,” said Senator Wingrove. “We believe in equality for everyone.”

  “Did you two see much of Carl?” I said.

  “Not that much,” said Senator Pritchett. “Senator Wingrove and I like to coordinate with each other so that it’s easier for supporters. Carl never bothered to coordinate anything. We’d hardly ever have events together, but whenever we did meet, he seemed completely despicable—he was so arrogant and rude.”

  “He really was a horrible man,” said Senator Wingrove. “I know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but he was someone I could never respect.”

  “There are all these rumors about him too,” I said. “That he had affairs with women, and that he was abusive.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if those rumors were true,” said Senator Pritchett. “He did seem so horrible.”

  “A lot of those accusers were anonymous,” I said. “You can’t really trust something that’s anonymous.”

  “Two people did come forward,” said Senator Pritchett. “If the campaign had gone on for much longer, perhaps more women would have come forward.”

  “Wow,” said Ian. “You two really don’t like Carl.”

  Senator Pritchett shrugged. “The man’s dead now. I guess we shouldn’t be talking ill of the dead. And it was a shame, how he died.”

  I nodded. “Is there anything else you can tell us about him? Had he been acting strangely lately? Did he have any enemies that you knew of?”

  “So many people hated him,” said Senator Pritchett. “There were those radical feminists, and then the two people who came out and accused him of having an affair with them or abusing them. Who knows what other enemies Carl made along the way?”

  “He was completely unpleasant to everyone,” added Senator Wingrove. “He would snap at everyone around him, including his bodyguards.”

  “Even Patti?” I asked.

  Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove both shook their heads.

  “Patti’s the best in the business,” said Senator Pritchett, “And Carl knew that. He treated her extremely respectfully. I guess he could be nice when he wanted to.”

  “What about his wife and stepdaughter?” I said. “Or did you ever see him with his ex-wives or his sons?”

  Senator Pritchett shook her head. “I never saw him with any of his exes or his sons, but we’ve seen him with his stepdaughter and his wife a couple of times.”

  “I have to admit,” said Senator Wingrove, “I never saw him snap at his wife or his stepdaughter. They would all act perfectly politely with each other. I guess, despite all his failings, he had a good marriage and he must’ve been a good stepfather.”

  Ian nodded. “His wife was really upset when we went to see her.”

  “The poor woman,” said Senator Pritchett. “I feel so bad for her. First the campaign, and then the rumors, and now this. It must all be so difficult.”

  “Politics can be very ugly sometimes,”
said Senator Wingrove. “It can be difficult for the people closest to you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  We chatted with Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove for a little while longer, asking them about their campaign strategies and what they thought of Vegas. They didn’t seem to know too much more about Carl or his family, so after a few minutes, Ian and I headed out to talk to Danielle Brown, the woman who claimed that she’d had a child with Carl.

  Danielle was staying at the Montana Ranch Casino. The casino had recently been refurbished, and when we walked inside, it looked a bit more modern than the last time I’d been there. Everything seemed brighter, and I noticed that the staff uniforms had recently been updated, and they looked relatively sophisticated for cowboy outfits.

  Ian and I headed to the third floor, where Danielle was staying in a small room that overlooked the Strip.

  Danielle turned out to be a tall, slender brunette. She looked every bit the Hollywood starlet that she was—glamorous and beautiful, even though she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her outfit of shorts and a simple T-shirt accentuated her slim figure, and her doe eyes peered out at Ian and me curiously.

  “Thanks for meeting us,” I said, looking around the room. There was an armchair in the corner near the window, a tiny bed, and a small flat-screen TV hanging on one wall.

  This was probably the cheapest casino room I’d ever seen, and I was surprised Danielle hadn’t asked for an upgrade. On the other hand, if she was a single mother in need of the publicity of having Carl’s child, she probably didn’t have much money to spare for hotel rooms.

  “It’s not a problem,” said Danielle. “I hope it’s okay that we’re meeting here. I didn’t want to have this conversation in public.”

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  The three of us stood around awkwardly until Danielle said, “I wish we had more space for sitting around, but one of you will have to grab the armchair, and we can sit on one side of the bed.”

  Ian went and settled down on the chair, and Danielle and I sat on either side of the bed. I twisted around so that I could face Danielle, and looked at her closely. Perhaps it was the lack of makeup, but she looked pale and worried.

  “You must’ve talked to the cops already,” I said.

  Danielle nodded. “Yes, they asked me about my relationship with Carl, and when I’d last seen him.”

  “When had you last seen him?” said Ian.

  Danielle shook her head. “I ran into him once three months after we’d broken up. I was pregnant at that time, but I didn’t tell him the child was his.”

  “How can you be sure the child was his,” said Ian, “if you haven’t done a DNA test?”

  “I’m sorry about Ian,” I said quickly. “He doesn’t mean to be rude.”

  Danielle shook her head. “It’s okay. But I know. I wasn’t with anyone else at that time.”

  “Where is your daughter now?” I said.

  “She’s staying with my mother in LA. I didn’t want to drag her around with me while I did this.”

  “Why did you come to Vegas in the first place?”

  Danielle glanced off to one side, looking slightly shifty. “I wanted to meet him, chat face-to-face about giving our child a better future. I got a text from someone in his campaign, a Patti something, saying she’d try to arrange for him to talk to me in Vegas. I thought it was worth a shot.”

  “Did you end up meeting Carl?” I asked.

  Danielle shook her head. “I got a text—from Carl, apparently—asking me to come to his place in Henderson. I said I was free anytime, he should name a date and time and I’d be there. I never heard back from him again.”

  “Hmm.” I looked at her thoughtfully, wondering if she knew about the faulty camera and discreet back door. “Did he say why he wanted you to meet at his place?”

  Danielle shrugged. “I assume because it’d be more private? I didn’t bother to ask why, I just wanted to meet him.”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance. Neither of us really trusted her—perhaps she knew about the camera and wasn’t willing to admit it.

  “Can I see your phone?” said Ian. “Maybe we’ll learn something from the text Carl sent you.”

  “I deleted it after I learned he was dead,” said Danielle sharply. “There’s nothing to see.”

  Ian and I exchanged another glance. Short of stealing her phone, we’d never be able to see the text. And I was pretty sure that if Carl had sent her any texts, Danielle had been smart enough to erase them.

  So instead, I said, “But why are you doing this, exactly? How does it benefit you if the world knows that Carl is the father of your child? Especially when you didn’t tell him any of this before.”

  Danielle looked away and shook her head. “I’m not sure. I guess I just ignored the whole thing, really. I told myself I could raise my child alone, but it’s difficult when you’re a single parent. If Carl had just acknowledged that my daughter was his, we could’ve had a better life. The politics, him coming into the spotlight, reminded me of all that. And I thought, why should my daughter miss out?”

  “But why did you have to go to the press with this?” said Ian. “You could have just gotten in touch with Carl privately, without going the whole media circus route.”

  “I tried that,” said Danielle. “But it didn’t work. I couldn’t get through to him. I managed to talk to his wife, but that was it.”

  “What did his wife say?” I said, unable to contain my curiosity. I could hardly imagine Ellen being harsh with anyone.

  “She was perfectly polite,” said Danielle. “But she said she didn’t believe me, and that if I had proof, I could get in touch with her.”

  “Were you intending to do a DNA test?” I said.

  Danielle shrugged. “If I needed to. But Carl wouldn’t even acknowledge what was going on. There’s no point doing a DNA test unless Carl agrees to it too. Agreed to it, I mean.”

  “That’s why you were going to meet him.”

  Danielle nodded. “At least the media attention got him to agree to meet with me. That was progress.”

  “It does look kind of like you’re doing all this for the publicity,” said Ian.

  Danielle shook her head. “Just because I’m an actress doesn’t mean everything I do is for the publicity. All I wanted was for my daughter to have a better life.”

  I wasn’t sure if I believed Danielle, but in an odd way, she seemed rather sincere.

  “Where were you on the night Carl died?” I said. “I know you must’ve told the cops, but I thought I’d ask you myself.”

  Danielle gulped. “I’ve been in the casino most of the time, staying in my room and reading on my Kindle. But I went out for dinner that night, and then I took a walk down the Strip.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “You went for dinner at around six, and then walked around till eight.”

  Danielle looked at me sadly and nodded. “It was bad timing. I wish I’d chosen to stay indoors that night, but it gets boring going from one casino to another. I’m not much of a gambler, and the casinos are kind of loud and there are always men hitting on you.”

  “I know,” I said. “I work as a dealer. It takes some time to get used to it. And I guess if you’re a beautiful, single young woman like yourself, it can get difficult with all the bachelor parties and young men who come here to have a fun time.”

  Danielle smiled wanly. “Yeah.”

  Ian and I asked her about her relationship with Carl—it turned out they had dated for almost a year, seven years ago.

  “Carl was always traveling,” said Danielle. “Even though we dated for a year, I didn’t see him that often.”

  “The other woman who said Carl had an affair with her,” I said, “Emma Tyrone, says that she dated Carl when he was still married to his second wife. And she claims that Carl used to beat her up when they were together. Was he ever violent toward you?”

  Danielle shook her head. “He would get annoyed at little things
sometimes, and he would snap at everyone around him. Sometimes we’d have huge fights, but he never hit me. Maybe we weren’t together long enough. Or maybe I dated him before he turned into a violent thug.”

  “You sound sarcastic,” said Ian. “You don’t really believe that Carl was abusive?”

  Danielle shrugged. “What do I know? Maybe he was. Maybe he abused that woman, and she went nuts and killed him. Just because he wasn’t abusive with me doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t be with someone else.”

  “The rumors are really horrible, though,” I said.

  Danielle shrugged. “He wasn’t the perfect boyfriend when we were together, but he wasn’t a horrible monster either.”

  I nodded. “I find the abuse allegations kind of hard to believe. Even the two politicians running against Carl said that all kinds of rumors pop up when somebody gets a little bit of publicity.”

  Danielle looked at the floor and grimaced. “That’s true. But you know I’m telling the truth about Carl being my daughter’s father. Of course, it doesn’t matter now.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. Danielle looked and sounded like a sweet, innocent young woman, but I had to remind myself that she was a trained actress, and the whole thing could be one big act.

  If her child’s father really was Carl, then she could keep kicking up a big fuss till his family agreed to a paternity test—which could easily be done using DNA from one of Carl’s other children. And then Danielle’s daughter would be entitled to inherit a share of Carl’s estate, which might be more money than child support payments. At the end of the day, Danielle had a strong motive for wanting Carl’s death.

  We asked Danielle a few more questions about what Carl had been like when they had dated, and what her life in LA was like. Danielle told us that Carl had been like almost any other guy—nice and sweet sometimes, angry and jealous at other times. She wasn’t too happy about her life in LA, because she’d hoped to have more serious movie roles by now, but she was still struggling along, hoping to get a big break someday.