by Paul Carr
“Yeah,” she said, “he was here that night. Left early yesterday morning.”
“Was he in your presence the entire time?”
“Uh, well, no. We didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re asking. He slept in the guest room and left before I got up at nine.”
“So he could’ve left earlier than 6 a.m.?”
She hesitated, maybe wondering if she was about to get her ex in trouble, and then sighed. “I guess so. I was out like a light after midnight. You think he killed Riley?”
Ignoring the question, he said, “Do you know about his money troubles?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s the reason he was here, asking me for cash. I got everything in the settlement.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“No. The last two times I did that he squandered it on drugs and gambling at the tracks.” If she didn’t see him after midnight, that gave him plenty of time to get back to the Keys and murder Gunn. He probably figured a million dollars in insurance proceeds would solve his problems.
Dalton drove to the impound lot with the key he had gotten from Earl. The car sat in the sun. He stretched on gloves and opened the door. After waiting a minute or so for heat to escape, he got inside. The starter just gave a weak click. He popped the hood release, got out to take a look underneath, and found a loose battery cable. It seemed too loose to have gotten that way without help. Upon touching the cable bolt, it fell into his hand, so he screwed it back into place and tried the starter again. The V-8 engine came to life with a throaty rumble.
The original theory of how Earl might have parked, killed Gunn, and returned to a car that wouldn’t start, had seemed plausible. But the loosened battery cable was problematic. And there were other questions that begged an answer. How did Earl get into the house without being discovered. Did he know the cameras would be turned off, or did he just get lucky? And he didn’t have a vehicle to follow Wilbur Hess home and kill him. Did he do that later? Or did he interrupt the drug deal, kill Gunn, and force Hess to drive him to Hess’s house. If so, how did he get home from there, several miles away?
When he got back in his car, he turned on the air full blast and phoned Key West PD. He asked for Ronnie Culp, thinking he might be more cooperative than Ringo. The detective picked up.
“This is Michael Dalton with the sheriff’s office. I met you when you came out for the Wilbur Hess murder.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, as I mentioned before, I think whoever killed Riley Gunn also killed Hess. I’m trying to put together a sequence and wondered if you have a time of death yet for your case.”
After a short hesitation, Culp said, “No, we don’t have that yet. Jack went over and talked to the ME. He said they’re backed up, and a drug dealer is probably low on their list.”
“Okay, I’ll check back.”
“Yeah, do that. Jack doesn’t think the case is related to yours, but if we find out otherwise we’ll let you know.” They hung up.
Dalton sat there, the air cooling his face, and thought about the evidence against Jimmy Earl. It seemed a little too convenient that his car was found with blood on the wheel. The drummer had his personal problems, but he didn’t seem stupid. If he had blood on his hands after killing Gunn, he would have shed the gloves before getting inside, or cleaned it up afterward. And there was the question of the battery cable, which appeared to have been loosened on purpose. There were too many holes that seemed to point to a frame. Earl was an easy target. He needed the insurance money, and he blamed Wilbur Hess for his addiction. But who else would have a reason to kill Gunn and Hess? He thought about the lawsuit and called Hilda Wright. They agreed to meet at her office an hour later.
Since he had an hour to kill, he swung by the office. Crook stared at his computer screen, his fingers idle on the keyboard.
“I forgot to ask earlier,” Dalton said. “How’d your jam session go?”
Crook made a slow turn to look his way. “The crowd kept us there until midnight, and the manager sent plenty of beer during the breaks. I don’t see how we played the last hour, but the patrons were probably drunker than we were. We got taxis home, and I had to go back for my car this morning.”
Dalton brought him up to date on the stolen car and his conversation with Earl.
“You think he did it?” Crook said.
“I’m keeping the options open.”
Crook pulled a bottle of aspirin from his desk drawer and swallowed a couple with a sip of coffee. “Oh, yeah, I talked with the taxi companies and the hired cars that are available around here. None of them picked up anybody near Riley Gunn’s place that night. Whoever ditched that Camaro must’ve had a friend pick him up.”
“Huh, that’s too bad. I was hoping we’d have a driver who could identify the guy. I’m meeting Hilda Wright in a few minutes to talk about Gunn’s lawsuit.”
“You want me to come along?” Crook asked, his tone listless, as if not interested in leaving his desk.
“I’d rather you stay here and get more research on the band. See if we can find out anybody else who might have a score to settle with Gunn. Look up Jimmy Earl’s arrest record, too. He popped up when Tarver ran prints from his car.”
Crook gave a mock salute. “I’m on it, Brother.”
****
Hilda Wright’s firm occupied the second floor of a restored, two-story conch house a few blocks off Whitehead Street. A stair along the side led up to the entrance. Dalton climbed the steps and went in the door to a cool lobby. No one appeared to be minding the store.
A young man in a yellow, casual shirt came up the hall and stopped. “Can I help you?”
“Michael Dalton to see Hilda Wright.” Dalton flashed his badge. “I’m a few minutes early.”
Yellow Shirt furrowed his brow. “What’s this about?”
“You can ask Hilda when you go get her.”
The young man gave him a smirk and made a popping sound with his tongue as he walked away.
A minute later, Hilda came into the room with several folders in her arms. She gave him a smile, which he hadn’t seen during his previous talk with her. “I have papers strewn about in my office. Let’s go down the hall.”
They entered a conference room overlooking a park at the rear of the building and sat at the end of a long table. “I apologize for our new law clerk. He said you were rude to him, but I’m sure he started it.”
Dalton shook his head. “He was just a little nosy, or maybe protective over you.”
Her face reddened as she laid the folders on the table. “All right. What is it you want to know about the law suit?”
“Mr. Gunn’s mother gave me some background on how your firm encouraged Riley to pick up the suit when his grandfather passed away. Can you tell me the amount you were claiming?”
“Certainly. That’s part of the public record. The grandfather, Mr. Barry Gunn, initiated the action about a year before he died. At the time, we estimated the value of the Key West Star Resort at $140 million. We sued for half the value as Mr. Gunn’s lawful share in the property.”
“What’s the basis for his claim?”
“Mr. Gunn and Carlton Gardner purchased the land where the resort now resides about a dozen years ago. They never developed anything on it because both men went broke when the real estate market tanked. The land sat idle for a long time after that. Then, after Mr. Gardner died a few years ago, Raven, his granddaughter, showed Mr. Gunn an environmental report that indicated the property had served as a dumping ground for hazardous waste. She offered to buy out his share for $100,000. Mr. Gunn was ill at the time and desperately needed the money, so he accepted. Then, two years ago an environmental engineer came to him and said a man had attempted to hire him to write a phony contamination report without ever looking at the site. He said he didn’t believe there was ever any hazardous waste, and he agreed to testify to the encounter. Mr. Gunn filed suit, but died a few months later. Riley picked up the case, but now he
’s dead, too.” Moisture glistened in her eyes.
“Do you know if Mr. Gunn’s mother will proceed with the case?”
Hilda wiped a tear with her fingers. “She said she’ll think about it.”
Dalton wondered if Raven Gardner was worried enough to kill Riley Gunn to stop the court action.
“I heard Gardner’s lawyers paid Riley a visit. Were you there for the meeting?”
“No, I was not. He said they showed up unannounced and told him they would ruin his music career if he didn’t drop the suit. It shook him up.”
“I need their names and phone numbers. I’d also like the name of the environmental engineer you mentioned."
She gave him the information and he stood, as if to leave. “Oh, yeah, I wanted to mention that I spoke with Marilyn Coe about Riley. She said she’s never had a relationship with him.”
Her brow furrowed. “Well, he fawned all over her at the party.”
“So you just assumed she was the other woman?”
“Yes. He never told me a name, just that he had somebody else.”
“Do you have any idea who it might’ve been?” With others having alibis, and the girlfriend’s name seemingly a secret, she could be important to the investigation as a suspect or a witness.
“No, I don’t.” She snapped the words, grabbed up her folders, and headed out the door.
Back in the car, he phoned Crook. “I just left Hilda Wright’s office. She said Raven Gardner’s law firm threatened to ruin Riley Gunn’s music career if he didn’t drop the lawsuit against their client. Have you found any dirt on him that might’ve caused them to think they could do that?”
“Not so far, just partying binges in the far corners of the world. That’s to be expected with rock stars, though. It doesn’t seem to hurt their popularity any.”
“Okay, keep at it. There has to be something out there that they thought they could hold over his head.”
“I did look up Jimmy Earl’s record. He was arrested a few years ago in Jacksonville, charged with domestic battery against his wife. The charges were dropped later when his wife admitted she was actually the one doing the battering. There’s also a couple of DUIs that landed him in jail for a few days each. That’s all I found, though.”
****
According to Hilda Wright, the Law Office of Douglas Vici represented Raven Gardner. Dalton phoned and made an appointment for 1:00 p.m. His stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since 5 a.m., so he stopped at a food truck and got a sandwich. Still having a few minutes to kill, he located the office and parked on the street about fifty yards away in the shade of a Royal Poinciana. He left the car running, air on full blast, while he ate and read over his notes. On the first interview with Hilda, he had written Marilyn Coe’s name, so he struck through it and wrote mystery woman – need to find. He made a note by the environmental engineer’s name, Blake Owen, to check him out, in case he could identify the person who asked him for the phony report.
As he looked up from his pad, he saw a limo turn into Vici’s driveway and drive to the rear of the building, out of sight. He pulled into traffic and turned in at the law office. Rather than park, he eased the car around the building until he could see the rear of the limo and wrote down the plate number. After backing up and parking in the lot to the side of the building, he phoned Crook again.
“Hey Buddy, I want you to run a plate for a limo.”
“Okay, shoot.”
He gave him the number, and Crook said, “Okay, I’ll call you right back with it. I found something on Riley Gunn. Not sure if it’s significant or not, but it’s the only thing I’ve come up with so far. About eighteen months ago, while touring in Thailand, he spent a day in the hospital. The story said he claimed to suffer some kind of stomach ailment, but the author suspected he’d overdosed. After that, he canceled the rest of the Asian tour.”
“Huh, keep digging and see if you can learn more about it. I’m about to go into a meeting, so I’ll call you after that on the plate number.”
“Okay, later.” They hung up.
Inside, Vici greeted him at the door and led him to a conference room. Dalton noticed a mirror at one end, beyond a long table. Guessing it was one-way glass, he thought they probably had a video camera behind it to record their meetings. He also wondered if someone might be sitting back there watching.
“So, Detective Dalton, what can I do for you today?” Vici was a small, swarthy man with thick glasses. He took the specs off and laid them on the table. His eyes seem to shrink by half.
“As I mentioned on the phone, I’m investigating the murder of Riley Gunn, and I understand he had a lawsuit against your client, Raven Gardner.”
Vici just nodded.
Dalton continued. “Apparently, Mr. Gunn told more than one person that you visited his residence and threatened to ruin his music career if he didn’t drop the suit.”
Returning the glasses to his face, Vici said, “If Mr. Gunn said that, he was lying. I did visit his house, but I never threatened him. I told him his grandfather was not of sound mind to file such an irrational claim, and hoped he would be more sensible. He declined, of course, and I left. Simple as that. No threat whatsoever.”
“All right. I assumed that would be your answer, but I wanted to hear you say it. You know it’s a felony to lie to a police officer.”
Vici bristled. “I’m well aware of the law, Mr. Dalton. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have other appointments.”
Dalton gave him a smile and walked out without saying anything further. He started the car and pulled out of the lot into traffic. A moment later he noticed the limo entering the street and accelerating, as if to catch up. It reached his car and started around, the large engine roaring. When even with him, rather that continuing, the limo edged over, forcing him to the edge of the street. It continued toward his car until he rode up on the curb and had to slam on brakes to keep from hitting a tree. The limo sped ahead. Its windows were nearly black with tint, so he hadn’t seen anybody inside.
Dalton sat there, waiting for his heart rate to normalize, and called Crook. “Hey, Buddy, you find that license number yet?”
“Yeah, the vehicle belongs to a corporation registered in China.”
Chapter 5
According to Crook, the limo belonged to Eon Harbor International, incorporated in Hong Kong in 1988. The company owned property in Asia, Europe, and the Americas. Dalton wondered if it had a stake in the Key West Star Resort, and if it had something to do with the threat Vici made to Riley Gunn. He drove to the resort, which sat on a couple of acres fronting Key West Bight. Inside, he found the executive offices and asked to see Raven Gardner. The receptionist, a pretty brunette, said he would need an appointment. He showed her his badge. “I’m with the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office, and I need to talk with her about the murder of Riley Gunn.”
She leaned forward and squinted to read the badge, then gave him an uncertain look. “Have a seat and I’ll tell her you’re here.”
He waited almost thirty minutes before going into the executive’s office. Raven Gardner had long, dark hair, blue eyes, and a warm and beautiful smile. Standing nearly as tall as Dalton, she gave him a firm handshake. “Detective Dalton, sorry for the wait. It’s been a madhouse today.” She offered coffee or water and he declined.
“As I mentioned to your receptionist, I’m investigating the Riley Gunn murder.”
“Yes, such a sad thing. I liked Riley a lot. What can I do to help?”
“It concerns the lawsuit he filed against you. I’ve been told that your law firm threatened him if he didn’t cease and desist.”
Her eyes widened. “What? That’s news to me. Who told you that?”
“A person close to the victim.”
“Was this person present when this alleged threat occurred?”
“No, Mr. Gunn communicated it immediately after it happened.”
She remained silent for a couple of beats and then said, “Well, I do
n’t know what to say. I certainly never asked anyone to intervene. Even with the court action, Riley and I remained on speaking terms. We were actually very close at one time; he and I dated when we were in high school.”
“According to his attorney, he wanted half your fortune.”
Smiling, she said, “He knew the lawsuit was frivolous, and I wasn’t worried about it. I think he just wanted me back, but I moved on after our teen years.”
“What about the claim that you purchased his grandfather’s land under false pretenses?”
She waved the comment away. “That land was contaminated. I gave Mr. Gunn a fair price, and I can prove I paid to clean it up.”
Dalton wondered who was lying, whether the land was contaminated or not. “Are you familiar with Eon Harbor International?”
Her face seemed to flush, and she hesitated before saying, “Yes, I am. They invested in my resort.”
“How much did they invest?”
She frowned. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with Riley’s murder. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m late for an appointment.”
“Has your law firm represented you for a long time?”
Standing up behind the desk, she said, “I’m sorry, but you need to leave.”
So he had hit a nerve. He thanked her and headed to the door, but turned around. “I’ll probably need to speak with you again.”
In the car he phoned Blake Owen, the environmental engineer. After identifying himself, he said, “Hilda Wright gave me your name. She said you were going to testify on Mr. Gunn’s behalf about the absence of contamination in the land his grandfather owned.”
Owen hesitated for a couple of seconds before saying, “Mr. Gunn was murdered. I assumed there wouldn’t be a lawsuit anymore.”
“Hilda Wright said Riley’s mother might pick it up.”
“Well, I’ve reconsidered.”
“You’re not going to do it?”
“Uh, no, I’m not. I’m an old man, and I don’t remember things so well anymore.”
It seemed that Riley’s murder had caused his memory to lapse.