Murder Made Legal: A Casey Alton Mystery

by Richard Wren

  “No,” she drew out. “More intimidating than threatening. Like, ‘it’s a shame what happened to your private investigator, isn’t it?’ or ‘you know if you hadn’t hired your private investigator, he’d probably still be alive.’ Things like that.”

  “What’d you do?” Les asked.

  “I hid. I hid at the Sorority house. The girls all thought I’d be safe there even though the phone calls had come to the house. Then one morning when I woke up, there was a man sitting beside my bed. Before I could scream, he’d grabbed me by my hair with one hand and slapped his other over my mouth. I thought he was going to kill me.”

  “Lanner,” Smitty muttered.

  The sister froze. “Did you say Lanner?”

  Smitty hesitated for a second. “The guy that got you into Mexico?”

  She nodded yes and continued. "He made me show my driver's license and then started calling me Jeannine. He told me he had been hired to get rid of me. I mumbled that I was leaving anyway, and he laughed. It was a mirthless laugh. Then to my horror, he enlightened me.

  “He twisted my hair in a tight knot so I was unable to move and held my mouth shut. Then he said, ‘In my business, getting rid of someone means killing them.’ I thought surely I was going to die right then.

  “Then he asked me a question. He wanted to know how many girls were in the building. We had both begun to hear noises in the hall. The girls were getting up. I exaggerated a little and said about a dozen.

  “He swore a nasty oath and said mostly to himself, ‘Why didn’t I start earlier? I coulda, shoulda, woulda been outa here a half hour ago.’ I stared at him and shrugged my shoulder in a silent plea. He stared at me for a full minute while he thought about something. ‘Where would you go?’ he asked and loosened his hand over my mouth.

  “I blurted out, ‘Anywhere! Another State, Canada, Mexico? Anywhere!’

  “‘Mexico?’ he said quietly. Then, and I’ll never forget this, he twisted my hair even more painfully and pulled my face around so that we were eye to eye. He had squinty eyes, the kind that make you think he’s looking right through you and he asked me if I wanted to live. I nodded my head up and down frantically all the while staring him in the eye.

  “‘You know there’re people out there that want you dead? Powerful people,’ he added. I nodded again. He stared at me with those flat, dead looking eyes for what seemed an eternity then, ‘They told me you don’t have any family. That true?’ I frantically nodded my head up and down.

  “Suddenly he let go of my hair and pushed me away from him. ‘Get dressed and pack a small bag like for a weekend,’ he ordered. I know I was crying with relief as I started for the closet to change but he ordered me to dress right there in front of him. He told me I couldn’t leave his sight. I had to strip and get dressed as he watched. As quickly as I could I threw on some jeans and a blouse and tossed some things in an overnight bag.

  “We started toward the door when suddenly he grabbed my hand, spun me around so I was eye to eye with him again and said, ‘I’m from the University and because of the threats they’re putting you in a safe house. Got it?’ I nodded. He jerked my arm hard. ‘You better make it believable, or else,’ he warned.

  “It worked. We only passed one girl I didn’t know too well and she just looked at me questioningly. I whispered that he was from the University and that was that. Outside he put me in a car and we drove to San Jose after he stopped to make a few phone calls. In San Jose he put me in a house with a large Mexican family and two days later they drove me to Mexico as one of their daughters. I didn’t speak any Spanish then but I think they were making money by using their daughter’s identification and smuggling people in and out of Mexico.

  “Anyway they dropped me off at the Nunnery and that’s where you found me, whew!”

  She sat back in her chair, heaved a sigh of relief and said, “Your turn.”

  There were several minutes of somewhat embarrassed silence as everyone digested all that she had told them.

  Les, attempting to lighten the mood, said, “Wow and double wow. Would that ever make a movie.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Smitty slammed his hand on the table, “Something’s been bothering me.” He got everyone’s attention. “How the hell did those two guys find out about the nunnery and,” he hesitated, “the sister?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been wondering the same,” Casey slowly expostulated. “Also, how come we haven’t heard anything from Lanner? Peterson was sure he’d find a way to get even with us.” He paused and looked around at the faces. “You may think I’m nuts, but I’m thinking Lanner gave up her location to someone.”

  Josie asked, “Why would he do that? He’d be admitting that he’d double crossed somebody.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s been many years since then. He’d be dealing with a whole new generation. What if the family that tried to get rid of the sister heard about us trying to find her and decided to find her first by contacting the guy they’d hired years ago to get rid of her?”

  “Lanner?” Casey thought about it for a minute. “They hear that someone’s looking for the girl they thought was killed years ago so they get back in touch with Lanner?”

  Smitty grew excited. “Sure. Then when they found out that Lanner had double crossed them, they had him by the short hairs. He’d have to talk. Makes a lot of sense to me.”

  “Think about it. Years ago, someone in Henry’s family arranged for her to be killed in order to protect him. Would the rest of the family know about it? I don’t think so. That’s the kind of thing a man takes to his grave.”

  Quickly Josie said, “But if that’s true, then no one in the family would know about Lanner.”

  “Not if whoever did it was still alive.”

  Smitty slowly summarized what Casey had suggested.

  “So you think that Lanner told someone where he’d sent her?”

  “Who else? According to Peterson, he’s the only one Lanner ever confided in.” Casey insisted.

  Smitty wasn’t convinced. “It’s still a stretch.”

  Casey was gradually convincing himself. “So what? What the hell else about this case makes any sense? It’s the only explanation that fits what’s happening.”

  Josie calmed them down. “Hold on you two. Let’s assume that is the case. If we further assume that the two thugs were sent to Mexico to kill Jeannine, that would have to mean there’s still a part of that family up here that is ready and willing to commit murder.” She turned to the Sister.

  “Nobody ever told you Henry’s last name?”

  “Strange isn’t it. It seemed like everybody was trying to hide his family’s name. I think the girls at the sorority knew it, but just never mentioned it to me. Then things happened so fast, it was all a blur.”

  Casey had an idea. “Do you remember the name of the fraternity that held the party?”

  “I can still remember the Greek alphabet over their front door. It was Phi Kappa Kappa. They called themselves the PK’s.”

  “After all these years, if you saw a picture of him would you recognize him?”

  “Of course I would.” She proved she was no dummy. “You’re suggesting we visit the fraternity and look at their old yearbooks, right?”

  “Unless you have a better idea?” he agreed.

  She arched her eyebrows at Casey. “I’m beginning to enjoy this. Let’s do it.”

  Josie spoke up. “Dad you better go too. There could still be some danger involved. Marilyn and I better stay here. We’re still trying to find ways to stall the case or find mistakes the D.A. or the police may have made. Right now we have a little time because the FBI lab’s so slow.”

  With a little digging, they found the fraternity was still in existence although they had moved into a larger house on Piedmont Avenue.

  “Not too far from where my Sorority was,” Josie said.

  With directions from her, they found the place easily.

  CHAPTER 39

&nb
sp; “Yes sir?” was the greeting they got from a young, very eager student at the front door. “You looking for somebody?” he asked as he very noticeably blocked their view of the interior with his body.

  Smitty immediately picked up on his nervousness and capitalized on it. “Chancellor’s office,” he spat out with authority. “We’ve had complaints.”

  “Uhhhh,” the boy stalled.

  Smitty pushed the door open and got a quick flash of naked flesh disappearing down a hall. “What the hell?” he said and grabbed the boy’s arm before he could run off.

  The three of them pushed into the front room and found a number of boys and young men in various stages of trying to leave. The young boy in Smitty’s hands gasped out, “It’s just a stag party.”

  Casey had a hard time not laughing. Smitty was horrified on behalf of the sister. Sister Agnes was trying to contain giggles.

  When the young men caught sight of a motherly woman in their presence, they instantly became contrite and defensive.

  “It’s just Joe’s birthday, nobody’s hurt. Who turned us in?” One spoke.

  “Son, you don’t know how lucky you are. Nobody turned you in, and we’re here on an entirely different matter. Now if Sister Agnes here is okay with it and you get the information we need to us quickly, we may let you off with just a warning.”

  Their eyes all swung to the sister. “A nun?” the speaker gasped. “We’re dead,” he added.

  The sister stepped in. “What’s wrong with a simple birthday party? That’s all it’s going to be, isn’t it?” She pinned the young man with her eyes.

  “Yes ma’am, yes ma’am,” several spoke simultaneously.

  “And you’re going to get what we need quickly?” Casey added.

  The speaker leaped to his feet. “What is it?”

  Casey looked at the sister. “What year?”

  “We need to see your 1978 yearbook. The one with names and pictures.”

  The speaker, without hesitation, as if it was the most normal request in the world, turned to a slightly built, bespectacled lad and said, “You’re the secretary. You know where they are?”

  “Sure, hang on,” The kid sped off down the hall.

  In a short time, he was back carrying a plastic storage box. Apologetically, he said, “They’re all in here, all the ‘70s.” He deposited the box on a large table.

  “Sister?” Smitty said and nodded toward the box. She calmly walked to the box, lifted the lid, and picked through the stack.

  “I have it. Give me a moment.” She riffled through the pages for a few minutes until suddenly she stopped. “That’s him,” she quietly said.

  “You’re sure?” Smitty asked. “Absolutely,” She replied.

  Smitty spoke to the kids who had been watching all this quietly. “Sorry we broke up your birthday party, kids. We got what we need and we’re leaving. Happy birthday, Joe.” He turned to the door and took the yearbook out of the sister’s hands.

  The kiddish looking secretary put up a mild objection. “Sir, you can’t take that with you, I’ll be…” He groped for words.

  “Son, thirty-seven years ago? No one’s gonna miss one yearbook.”

  Nothing more was said as Smitty gently closed the door behind them.

  “You okay?” he asked the sister.

  “Of course,” she replied. “Do you think I’m made of spun sugar?

  An only slightly chastened Smitty asked, “Did you get his name?”

  “Yes, but I want to talk about all this before I identify him.” She forcefully took the yearbook back.

  Casey agreed. “Fine, there’s no rush. Let’s go back to the house and decide what we’re going to do.”

  Back at the house, seated around the dining table, the sister took command of the conversation.

  “Before I tell you which one of the kids in here is the guilty party, I need to know what your plans are. Years ago, there was a murder, and you tell me there’ve been two people killed since you started this investigation. That has to stop. I will not be a party to a group out for revenge. I need to know exactly what your role is in this and what your plans are.”

  Casey started to speak, but Josie interrupted him. “I think I can answer that best, Sister.”

  “Call me Agnes, it’s easier,” the sister interrupted.

  “Agnes,” Josie amended. “We told you about Gus. We absolutely know he’s innocent, and the only way we can prove it is to find out who the real killer was, and we intend to do it totally legally.”

  The sister answered her directly. “Josie, I know a little about the laws of the United States and it seems to me that you’re compromising the admissibility of the information your gathering.”

  Surprised, Josie agreed. “I know. It seems like we’re up against a stone wall legally. We need to come up with something new, and I’m fresh out of ideas.

  The sister took her time pondering her next statement. “Well,” she drew out slowly, “I have an idea.”

  Surprised, they all looked at her expectantly waiting for whatever came next.

  She partially suppressed a half laugh. “All my life I’ve wanted to do two things, and thought I would never get the opportunity. One of them is because I’ve read every Father Brown mystery that Chesterson ever wrote. Are you familiar with his mysteries?” she asked inclusively.

  Josie glanced around at the group. “Sure. We’ve all seen them on TV, except Dad?”

  ‘Course I have,” Smitty disagreed.

  “That’s one of them. I’ve always wanted to solve mysteries like Father Brown does. The other one is,” she paused, “promise not to laugh?”

  In the spirit Casey answered, “Cross my heart.” All the rest encouraged her to continue.

  “Well. Someday, somehow, I wanted to ride my own motorcycle.”

  Smitty laughed. So did the sister. “You promised not to laugh,” She said.

  “I couldn’t help it,” Smitty said between chortles. “A nun detective riding a motorcycle?”

  Sister Agnes had a well thought out sharp retort. “If a priest can ride a bicycle and solve murder cases, a nun can ride a motorcycle and also solve murder cases. I rest my case.”

  “What case?” Josie asked.

  “My idea,” she corrected. “I want to stay for a while and help. I did most of the legal work for the Abbey for years, and I usually figured out Father Brown’s mysteries before he did, so I’m thinking I could help a little with the legal work and maybe do a little detecting also?” Then before anyone could reply she added, “And I’m a darn good cook.”

  Josie, her dad, and Casey were all flabbergasted and thoroughly silenced for several moments.

  Smitty was the first to find his tongue. Slowly he drawled out, “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, if you want my opinion,” Sister Agnes teachered, “You brought me into the country illegally and involved me with an illegal seizure of private property on University property. I think you’re morally and legally obligated to keep me here.”

  After a moment Josie had to agree. “Well I for one, think you made your case very well and I could use some help.”

  In a moment, Smitty agreed also and rising, threw an arm around Casey’s shoulders. “Can’t argue with the ladies, can we?” It was settled.

  “Alright then,” Sister Agnes agreed. “The name’s Harcourt. Henry J. Harcourt. He’s the kid that drugged me, but not the one in bed with me in the morning. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Dad?” Josie asked questioningly. He slowly shook his head negatively. “Me neither,” she said.

  “Nothing?” the sister insisted, but got no answer. “Let’s see what else is in here,” she said, laying the book on the table and opening its pages.

  “Henry J. Harcourt jr. Born February the seventeenth in 1956.” She looked up. “That means he was twenty two when he….” she hesitated, then continued, “the incident occurred.”

  “He must’ve been a senior,” Josie volunteered.
“What else?”

  “Not much. He was born in Albany. . He was an honor student, lettered on the football team and excelled at debating. He was voted most likely to succeed in politics.”

  Josie spoke up and took command. “That’s enough. Here’s what we need to do. I’ll conduct a search for where he is today.” She turned to the sister and Marilyn. “Can you two research the parents? I want to know where they lived, what they did for a living, and who they were related to, like brothers, sisters, cousins, other children, nieces and nephews, everything.”

  Smitty asked, “What’s for me?”

  Somewhat tentatively, she answered. “How would you and Casey feel about trying to find the whereabouts of Lanner? I thought you could grill Peterson some more and find out where he thinks he might be. Trouble is, it might get dangerous, but given his apparent state of mind, I think it’s dangerous to ignore him.”

  Enthusiastically, Smitty, with a nod of encouragement from Casey, said, “Right down our alley,” then questioningly to Casey, “First we rescue Peterson?”

  Casey laughed. “More like rescue Nips. He said the guys eating him out of house and home and his wife’s about ready to kill him. I’ll call.”

  “Thank God,” Nip’s wife volunteered when she realized what the phone call was about. “Nips is bad enough but him and this guy Peterson together? How soon can you be here?

  “Right away.” Casey answered and he and Smitty took off.

  On the way Smitty asked, “what about Peterson and our nun. Think it’s okay for them to meet now?”

  Casey deliberated for a short time. “Sure, why not? He had nothing to do with her abduction and she wants to be included, so why not?

  Smitty agreed just as they drew up to Nips’s front door.

  Peterson and Nips were waiting on the front porch, Peterson had a small suitcase by his side. There was no sign of Nips’s wife.

  CHAPTER 40

  An hour later, Peterson was back in their dining room being questioned by both Casey and Smitty.

  “Tell us more about Lanner,” Smitty demanded, then had a sudden memory. “You phoned him from Jake’s Bar, didn’t you!” he accused.