by Dave Balcom
There was no receptionist in the law office. The door opened onto a reception area of sorts, but as soon as we entered a man in his late 40s or early 50s – tan, fit, with that graying hair around his temples that gives so many handsome men a distinguished look – came out of an office. He wore a dress shirt, but no tie.
“Can I help you?”
I gave him a brief version of our hunt for the owner of the convenience address, and he broke into a broad smile.
“What a hoot this will be for my dad.”
“Really? We always like to spread joy whenever we can,” Jan said, barely hiding her impatience. I could see this jockeying around was starting to grate on her Type A tendencies. I put a restraining hand gently on her forearm.
“So we should be asking for your dad?” I asked. “Is he the other Lynch?”
“Yes and no. My cousin and I are the partners now; dad was the original Lynch.” He stuck out his hand, “I’m Pat, Patrick Junior. My dad is the guy you’re really looking for.”
Jan gave him a business card. I held up my hands, empty and palms up like the guy in the Monopoly cards. “I don’t carry a card, but I’m working for her.”
He nodded, and picked up a phone. He punched in a number and waited. “Dad, guess what?” He listened, a smile flirting with the corners of his mouth. “No, she’s not coming out to your house now or ever, you old goat.” He listened again, and laughed, “No, she’s not coming out, either.
“I do have some people you do want to see, however.” He read off Jan’s name and recalled mine. “They want to talk about Box one-oh-one A at Military Mail…” He listened again. “No shit. Really?”
He listened a bit more, and then ended the call with, “I’m sending them out; they’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
He picked up a tablet and drew a quick map. “He’s eighty-three and you guys are making his month. I hope to see you again.”
We followed the map that led us east out of Grayling, under I-75 and out into the country. We went north just after we crossed the Au Sable, and drove into the woods where the road dead ended at a field-stone farmhouse.
The old Mr. Lynch was standing on the porch, inviting us in as we pulled up. A border collie bounced around the yard, barking until it stopped and bounded up on the porch at a word from the old man.
He was stooped a bit, and he used a cane to navigate in a shuffle back into the farmhouse’s living room. He wore a plaid flannel shirt, buttoned up to the collar, despite the heat of the day. He wore twill work pants that gathered at his belt like a sack despite the suspenders that provided backup. He had corduroy house slippers on his feet.
“Welcome, welcome. Please sit and tell me what you want with Box one-oh-one A.”
While Jan gave him a card, I gave him a bit of the detail on how we had ended up on his doorstep.
“So you’re not sure Mickey just died in a car crash, eh?”
“I have been told by one of the people who killed him that he didn’t just die in a crash,” I said.
“My newspaper ran a story in this week’s edition that quotes police investigators that they’re treating Mickey’s death as a homicide,” Jan added.
“Did either of you know Mickey?”
Jan answered. “I knew him casually, but Jim here is an old friend from years ago…”
Lynch’s eyes just danced. “Really, an old friend? That’s just terrific. You know, I had real issues with how that man lived his life, but he was really smart, really perceptive.”
“Mickey?”
“Oh, yes. Last fall he gave me an envelope and told me that if he should die and it was clearly a murder, that I should be prepared to give that envelope if, and this is exactly how he phrased it, ‘an old friend of mine comes around asking questions.’”
I sat back as if I’d been slapped. Jan was watching me closely. “You may have been out of touch with him after Kathy, but he sure had you pegged, didn’t he?”
The old lawyer then explained the situation.
“I have a will that was to be executed upon Mickey’s death, but in the event that Mickey was murdered, I was to proceed only if everyone knew it. He wanted to make sure, he said, that if he had been murdered, but that fact had eluded the authorities, he didn’t want to put the heirs of his estate in danger.
“He figured if they could kill him, they wouldn’t stop short of killing others.”
I leaned forward, “Did he suspect any one person of killing him?”
“He didn’t tell me, if he did. He may have put it in the envelope, but if not, then I don’t know. Wait here and I’ll fetch it.”
He struggled out of his chair, and shuffled out of the room. Jan shook her head. “Mickey saw you coming?”
“He may have sent for me, Jan. I’m starting to develop a feel for this. You know how I kept thinking there wasn’t enough here to kill for? I’ll bet we’re going to find out right now that there is.”
53
“Dear Jim, my dear, old friend.”
The sound quality on the CD was perfect. I could hear his breathing; a slight gasping sound when he inhaled was still there. It captured his precise pronunciation of curse words.
“If you’re hearing this, then I must be dead. The victim of murder most foul and all my little plans have come to bear fruit.
“Nobody, and I mean nobody, ever impressed me the way you did with your never-ending questions when I first met you. I can still remember thinking, after that first night at the bar… remember how we sat around, had a few beers after we’d cleaned up, and we’d smoked and drank for an hour? Remember that? I always remember thinking as I went home, ‘I know nothing about him, and he knows my whole life story.’
“That’s why I made this deal with Lynch and why I made the deal with Rick Edmonds. I left Rick all the money it would take to throw a big wake for me, and all he had to do was convince you to attend. I knew if he piled the guilt on you, you’d come.
“You must have heard the Miss Shar-lotte story at the wake. I tried to make sure that Rick would reminisce with you, but of course I couldn’t tell him why. I just had to rely on the Mickey legend, and that terrible curiosity that drove you then and apparently still does.
“I have arranged everything in my will so that my boys split a trust fund. My son, Seth – you’ll really like him – will be in charge. Phillip never recovered from the divorce. No matter how hard I worked, I just couldn’t reach him. Gary White is just a waste. Once Ron was born, Gary, and even Kathy too, had no time for Phillip. It was like he was damaged goods. When Phillip was put in prison I thought I’d never recover. But I went to see him, and I found out he was really shy, really quiet, but really a good guy, too.
“He had a pretty good take on the situation he was in, and he told me he was going to go to school when he got out, and turn his life around. My death will fund that, for sure, if you can prove I was murdered. My biggest fear is that those fuckers will have staged something so slick that nobody will ever know. Then, if my will suddenly took it all away from them, they might hurt Ginny, Seth or Phillip.
“Nothin’ they’d do would shock me.
“I’ve always regretted losing you from my life, Jim. I know you couldn’t accept the Kathy thing, but you never gave me a chance to apologize to you for that night.
“Yes, I slapped her. It was a thoughtless, irresponsible act, and it probably changed my life. I calculate I’ve made and lost all or some of three fortunes in the past thirty years, and none of it makes any sense to me now.
“I figure Charlotte killed me. Or had Means do it. Ricardo, what a snake. He and his brother Frank are real tough people. But you know what really galls me?
“I think Means set Edmonds and me up for the rip off in seventy-four, and I think that cocksucker sicced her on me up in Mineral Valley, too.
“That’s the deal, that Mineral Valley thing. When I was first up there, Seth and I went to the Manistee and fished this big deep run, you know where by now if you got t
his far.
“It’s the property that was in my note to you, back when I first realized that Charlotte may have been part of a different plan than mine. Bitch.
“I gotta tell you though, as cold and heartless as that bitch is, you’d never know it in the sack. Sex with her is like nothing else in my life, and you know I’ve sampled. Ha, ha.
“But anyway, the property deal. Penny Point was going to be my legacy. It would be a monument that told the world, “Mickey was here!”
“I had this great place on the Copper, and I realized it was a gold mine if I could buy up the ground upstream all the way to the national forest boundary. Think of it: Exclusive properties with great golf, fishing, shooting sports, stables, canoeing… all of that just 90 minutes from the airport in Traverse? It was perfect.
“I started studying those projects. I went to Vail. I visited Telluride. I heard about various companies that were involved in these deals, and I heard about Crocker and his Next Cool Place.
“I courted these fuckers, if you can believe it. I chased them. I had money but they had more. I had a dream; they had a track record of making dreams come true.
“You should see their deal outside of Bend, Oregon. That place is a wet dream. You know those guys spent twenty-six million developing that golf course, and then they opened the sales of the adjacent properties at nine a.m. on a Monday and they were profitable by noon? Can you believe that shit?
“They had actually recruited big spenders from Europe and Asia, and had people fly them in so they could walk the ground and buy those places first thing Monday morning.
“Slick, partner; they are very slick.
“Then, here’s Charlotte, and as usual I let my dick run crazy with my life. I dumped Ginny. Made her a nice settlement and promised to take care of Seth, but I was all-in on Charlotte like a dog in heat.
“Then along comes Next Cool Place. I didn’t know at the time that Charlotte was connected, but it turns out she’s the company figure head. I’m sure she was brought into the deal so they could have control of all that land. After we were married, I was pretty expendable, you know?
“As soon as I let her… them … in on the deal, the whole play changed.
“I knew it was south right away, but I have always been real good at fooling people, me especially.
“Then they started talking about not building Penny Point at all. Ricardo and Means took me for a walk up the creek, and they started talking about all the wealth that lies under the ground.
“Shit, Jim. Who wants their legacy to be a bunch of nickel and dime pumps taking oil and gas out of the ground? I told them, what if those wells ended up polluting the Big M or Copper Creek? What kind of legacy would that be?
“They thought I was kidding at first.
“Charlotte went plain hostile, and then started working on me, if you know what I mean.
“That’s about when I sent you that reminder. I had called you earlier, but you still couldn’t let me back in because of that hitting thing, and I understand that.
“But, Jim, I knew this. If you started nosing around, asking those goddamned questions of yours, and if those assholes had something to do with my death, they were going to make a move on you. They’d try to shut you up, buy you off or hurt you or hurt somebody close to you.
“I knew if they did, they’d scare you, and then they’d be in deep shit. And now, you’re listening to this disc. God, I wish I could be there to see just how bad you fuck those guys up. I really do.
“Sic ’em, partner. Sic ’em good.
“Your old friend, Mickey.”
54
We sat in the car after the disc ended. The silence was deathly.
“He figured this all out while he was still alive?”
I nodded. “He used to tell me that in business, like life, you couldn’t always predict what was going to happen, so all you could do was put pieces in play. He’d say, if you know the players, and put the right pieces on the table, and then let the players play, most of the time you’ll end up with something pretty close to what you expected.”
Jan was making a list in her notebook. I waited. She stopped, sticking her pen into her mouth, painting her tongue I thought. “We first have to show this to the right people.”
“Who?”
“Let’s start with Miles. We can be in Traverse City in less than two hours.”
I took the County Road 612 route, and other than slowing down for three different deer and the cluster of traffic at Manistee Lake, and again at U.S.131 in Kalkaska where we joined up with M-72 again, we hit the outskirts of Traverse City in a little more than 90 minutes.
At the hospital, we had to wait a bit, and then the nurse told us we could go in and see Miles.
He was sitting up in a chair by the window in a robe and slippers. His color was good, I thought.
Jan went to him and gave him a hug.
He briefed us on his status and health, on the search for Means, which was no word; and his thoughts on the investigation.
Jan told him that we had the disc, and she wanted him to hear it. I went on a search for a player.
The nurses had no idea. I went looking for pediatrics, and found it. The first room I tried contained a young man, about 12, his leg in a sling, his head bandaged and an arm in a cast. He was watching TV. His CD player and headphones were on the table next to his good arm.
“How’s the other guy look?” I asked him.
He studied my face, trying to place me. “We don’t know each other,” I said. I spun out a very brief version of the case we were working on, and told him about my friend Detective Lawton on the second floor.
“We recovered this important piece of evidence today. It’s on a disc, and we want Lawton to hear it right away, but we need a player. Can you help us?”
He eyed me up and down again, and then nodded at the player and headphones. “They get real pissy if they hear it; you’ll have to use the headset,” he whispered.
“I’ll bring it right back.”
“And, mister?”
“Yeah?”
“It still looks like a tree, just skinned up a bit.”
I hustled to Lawton’s room just as the door closed.
I pushed it open, stepped inside, and felt a crushing blow to my face.
“Just in time, motherfucker,” Means hissed as I went sprawling onto Lawton’s empty bed. I was woozy and disoriented. I slipped off the bed, onto the floor. I felt like a puddle.
“What do you think you’re going to accomplish here?” I heard Jan ask him in a strident voice.
“Well, I came to have a talk with Lawton here, to find out just how important it might be for me to kill you and lover boy there. Now, I’m thinking I might just kill all three of you, but I need to see all my options.”
Lying on the floor, I decided I had to somehow do something, but the decision was easier to achieve than the act. My groping hand closed on a cord in loose coils on the floor. I was blinking my eyes, shaking my head and trying to clear the fog Means had put there. I pulled on the cord and the nurse page button slipped out from under the pillow and came down on the floor where I was. I closed my hand on it, fumbled around and started punching the button.
“Stanton, you’re wallowing like a beached fish. Move your ass where I can see you,” Means said, motioning with his gun.
I started up, faltered and fell back down on my hip, both hands on the floor.
“Shit, that all the punch you can take? I guess everyone had you all wrong. Come on, you old fuck.”
He put the barrel of his weapon to my temple. “Now, let’s see if we can help you upright.” He put his left hand under my armpit and started pulling. With that gun at my head, I had no thoughts of resisting so I worked my feet under me, and was standing with his help.
“There, you next to the lady. I don’t want you to think you can make…”
He stopped talking when he saw Lawton pointing his service weapon at him. “Means, I think
you should drop your weapon.”
Ray froze. I could sense his mind working the odds. He still had the gun touching my head, the hammer was cocked. His finger was on the trigger.
“You drop yours or I’ll kill Stanton.”
“And we’ll all miss him, all but you, that is. You’ll be dead on top of him.”
Jan had her bottom lip between her teeth. I could see her stressing, and thought about my own center.
“Ray, he doesn’t give a fuck about me,” I said, “and you’ve already said you’d kill them, that makes it a two-for-one sale for him. You’re beat, bud.”
“But I waste you. I take some real pleasure in that thought.”
“I’d rather keep us both alive, Ray. You could tell us how Charlotte hooked you up in all this, and how she killed Mickey and, shit, maybe it was her who shot Lawton at the house, who knows? I think you should stick around for the end of the movie, bud.”
It was almost as if you could hear his mind working. I continued, “You think you can take him with a snap shot and still have me? No chance. Remember Baldwin, Ray? I’m recovered enough right now to make that look slow. Think it through, and you’ll surrender.”
Lawton never said a word. His gun never wavered. It was pointed directly at Means’ chest.
Ray let the hammer down, and the gun hang on his finger. “Good choice,” I said and took it away from him.
Lawton hissed. “Dammit to hell anyway, I’d a loved to shoot you, you prick. Now sit down, Indian style, that’s right. Hands on top of your head, you know the drill.”
Jan had her cell out and was dialing 911. A nurse from the floor station responding to my call, opened the door, saw Lawton, the gun, and Means on the floor, blanched and backed out.
In minutes two officers from the Traverse City police department had Means in custody, read him his rights, and out of the room.
“Where’d your piece come from?” I asked Lawton.
“Just coincidence. Before you guys arrived, Fish and Captain Lewis from the post were here. They’d processed all the details from yesterday’s shoot out. They brought me my weapon and my handcuffs, which had been removed from my belt by the EMTs.