Murder Made Legal: A Casey Alton Mystery

by Richard Wren

  “What d’ya mean three?” he retaliated reflexively, then lapsed into silence again realizing he’d been baited.

  Casey turned the screw. “Funny thing about psychos.”

  Lanner looked up. “Yeah? What’s that?

  “Methinks thee protesteth too much,” Casey said, parodying Shakespeare.

  “Fuck you,” Lanner responded and turned away.

  “Oh I don’t think so. You’re obviously a sociopath. You spend time manipulating people for your own benefit but you really not interested in them at all. You’re hot headed and you act without any concern about how others around you are effected. You blame others and have excuses for your own mistakes. Look at the way you treat Willy.

  Lanner blew up. “That’s a bunch of bullcrap, ain’t it Willy? Tell him,” he commanded.

  Willy stared at him for a moment, then slowly turned his back without saying a word.

  “Tell him,” he bellowed, “God damn it, tell him you son of a bitch. Tell him I ain’t no sociopath.” Willy huddled deeper into the chair.

  “Your friend not going to back you up Lanner?”

  “What the fuck’re you trying to do to me? I ain’t nuts,” Lanner ranted.

  Calmly, Casey replied. “I’ve read that the more loudly a person denies something, the more likely he’s guilty. Seems to me you’re proving that theory, Mr. Lanner. You’re digging your own grave. So now we know you’re a murderer and a sociopath. I’ve heard that sociopaths end up in solitary confinement in prison.”

  “I AIN’T nuts.” Lanner shouted. “Besides, you ain’t gonna put me in jail, I got friends.”

  Casey’s interest perked. “Boy, have I heard that story before. On a murder charge? What a bunch of bullshit. You’re gonna be in jail. We’ll see to that.” He hesitated, laughed, and added, “A little guy like you? You’re gonna be screwed.“

  Lanner tried to lurch to his feet, lost his balance, and fell to the floor.

  Casey circled around him, grabbed his shirt collar, and easily lifted him back into the chair. Lanner seemed almost more humiliated and frustrated by this action than by the insults Casey had been throwing at him.

  “I’ll never go to jail, you’ll see.”

  Remembering that Lanner already knew about Josie, he said. “Bullshit again, Lanner. You know my wife’s a district attorney and I know a bit about the law. The D.A. will crucify you.”

  “Hah!” Lanner spat.

  “Hah?”

  Lanner gave him a contemptuous look. “You think you got an in with the D.A.’s office just because your wifey works there?”

  He didn’t know that Josie had quit her job.

  “Yeah, you son of a bitch. I sure as hell got a connection there, and I know how they work. You’re going down, and the other prisoners will love you. My wife’s a helluva attorney, and she’ll make mincemeat out of you.”

  “Your fuckin’ wife won’t get anywhere near the case. An assistant district attorney don’t carry no weight against family ties,” Lanner shot back.

  Family ties? Casey thought, and shot a glance behind him where Smitty was standing and listening. Smitty raised his eyebrows in a questioning motion.

  Lanner had slouched back in his chair and quit talking as he stared malevolently at Casey and Smitty.

  “Family ties? What the hell does that mean?” Casey asked.

  Lanner looked down at the floor and growled almost under his breath so that Casey barely could make out what he said, “You’ll find out.” Then he raised his head and raised his voice directly at Casey. “And I ain’t no queer!”

  Casey stared back at him, stroked his chin and again quietly said, “Methinks thee protesteth too much.” He turned his back on Lanner and walked back to Smitty. He was excited.

  “I think we learned all we’re gonna learn from him and it may be enough. I need to talk to Josie.”

  Smitty agreed. “Okay gang, these two go to Richmond until we decide what to do with them.” He turned to Les.

  “Figure out some way to get these two into the van without upsetting the neighbors, and you know where to put them at the shop, right?”

  “Ice house, right?” Les automatically knew what Smitty was referring to. Their huge shop in Richmond, big enough to hold a dozen huge garbage trucks at a time, also housed an old room sized meat locker. No longer used for that purpose, it had been converted into storage area, seldom used. Now it stood empty, thick walled and air conditioned, with a lockable door. It wouldn’t be the first time it had been used for confinement purposes.

  Back at Smitty’s house, Josie was so furious she was sputtering. “Damn you, damn you, damn you. You could have been killed.” She kicked at his shins. “You could have gotten Dad killed.”

  Casey and Smitty had arrived home and Casey had rushed upstairs to talk to Josie before someone else called her with the scary details, but he was too late. One of the gang had called on the way to Richmond all excited about how the operation had gone down and what a close call it had been. Now she was almost hysterical.

  “Nobody called me? Nobody even let me know you were in danger.”

  Casey forcefully took hold of her shoulders and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “It happened so quickly there was no way to call you. Actually the guys outside had no idea what was going on inside until the very last, but it came out okay.” He hugged her tightly.

  After a few moments of just silently hugging, she pushed him away and forced a grin to her mouth. “Okay this time. But, you do it again and I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Deal!” Casey grinned as Josie wiped a tear from her eyes and sat down at the table, suddenly business like.

  “So,” She announced. “What’d you find out?”

  Casey had struggled with the tidbit of information he had weaned out of Lanner. Was it important? Did it mean anything? He decided to lay it in Josie’s lap.

  “What I found out is that I, that is, you have a mystery to solve, and I think it’s in the D.A.’s office.”

  “In the office? I don’t think I’m going to be of much help to you then. I’m really persona non grata there.”

  “More about than in,“ he corrected himself, then went on to explain the slip that Lanner had made.

  “Family ties? Family ties? And you’re pretty sure he thinks I’m still an assistant DA?”

  “That was the impression I got, yeah.”

  “Can you remember exactly what he said?”

  “Pretty much. Something like you won’t get anywhere near the case, and family ties meant more in the D.A.’s office than an assistant D.A. does. He really meant you.”

  The attorney in Josie emerged. “Hold on a minute. Let me dissect exactly what he said and what that means. If he said I wouldn’t get anywhere near the case, he’s saying I wouldn’t get the assignment, and the only one that makes those assignments is the D.A. Is he saying that Gordon would keep me off the case? Gordon?”

  “Well,” Casey drawled. “How well do you actually know him?”

  Josie hesitated. “Actually, not well at all. I know about him, but I don’t really know him except working on cases together. Rubbing shoulders together on cases gets you on a first name basis quickly, but we never palled around together. He always struck me as kind of a loner, but a hell of a good attorney.”

  Casey didn’t hurry her along as she paused again, obviously rethinking what she knew about her ex-boss.

  “What I know about him. Well he succeeded Milt Abrams when he had to retire about three years ago. It was a pretty easy election because of his name recognition.”

  “What name recognition?”

  “You didn’t know? His Dad had been D.A. years ago and is still well thought of.”

  “So he rode in on his Dad’s coattails?”

  “Not really, he was really well qualified, and he fought hard for the job.”

  “So could his Dad be the family tie?”

  “Not possible. He’s got Alzheimer’s real bad. Actua
lly he’s in a care home. So I just don’t know. Maybe Lanner was just blowing off steam?”

  Casey reflected. “I don’t think so,” he remembered. “I think he’s got some sort of protection lined up, and he just made a slip.”

  “But what? Nothing fits.”

  “How about sisters or brothers or aunts or uncles? Parent’s aren’t the only family ties.”

  “Marilyn,” Josie sang out. Marilyn came downstairs from their office carrying a sheaf of papers.

  “Lose the papers,” Josie instructed. “And sit down.”

  Marilyn sat down abruptly. “Am I in trouble or something?” she asked.

  “Oh Marilyn, don’t be ridiculous. We just really need your help,” Josie said, then quickly and succinctly brought her up to date on the day’s happenings.

  “So you see Marilyn, it’s a mystery. Is there anything you know about Gordon’s family that would explain that remark?”

  Marilyn shook her head. “Nothing I can think of. I never met his family, but there’s only one brother and his dad, and you know about him.”

  “He’s in a home with Alzheimer’s? Are you sure?” Casey asked.

  “Oh yes,” Marilyn replied. “No question. I’ve seen him.”

  Josie said, “That’s it then, Lanner was just trying to bluff you.”

  Casey reflected on his time sparring with Lanner. “Somehow I don’t think so. He really believes he’s got a connection. I could see it in his eyes.”

  Smitty had entered the room and seated himself at the table during the last few minutes.

  “What about the brother?” he asked.

  “Impossible,” Marilyn offered. “He’s an executive with the YMCA and devoutly religious. Compared to the financial successes of his brother, he’s the black sheep or rather the white sheep in this instance.” Marilyn giggled.

  Accustomed to her wry sense of humor, Josie said, “Very funny, Marilyn.” She dejectedly turned to Casey. “We’re dead, right?”

  Marilyn timidly cleared her throat and got their attention. “What?” Josie asked.

  “Well it’s kinda dumb maybe, but there’s Gordon’s ninety-three-year-old grandfather.”

  Everybody looked at each other for a moment, then Josie spoke up. “Old man Mason? He’s still active?

  “Very much so. I understand he still lives in the old family house with a caretaker, but he presides over a mandatory family dinner once a month.”

  “He’s how old?” Smitty asked.

  “Ninety-three,” Marilyn responded.

  “Hold it!” Smitty demanded. “Ninety-three? That’s ridiculous. Sounds to me like were getting silly. It’s late. We can’t do anything now, so I suggest we get a good night’s rest and sort this out tomorrow.”

  Casey glanced at his watch. “Good lord, it’s six thirty. Time flies when you’re having fun, right?”

  Josie commented, “I promised the sister I’d take her to the store this evening; nothing’s as refreshing as a shopping trip.”

  Casey grinned. “Would you mind terribly if I took a pass on your shopping trip?”

  “What makes you think you were even invited?” Josie tossed back with a flip of her hair.

  CHAPTER 44

  Just after breakfast the next morning, Smitty called a meeting in the living room.

  Les opened by agreeing with the last remark Smitty had made the previous evening about the grandfather’s age.

  “At that age, we can probably rule him out as having any hand in coercion in the D.A.’s office?”

  Josie concluded, “So we’re back at square one?”

  Casey had been silent for a couple of minutes working with a scrap of paper and a pencil.

  “How old is Gordon?” he asked Marilyn.

  “I don’t know exactly, I’d say in his fifties or maybe sixty.”

  “And the Sister was what, seventeen or eighteen when she was sent off to Mexico?”

  “Eighteen,” Josie said.

  “And that was 1978?”

  “Right.” Josie hesitated for just a second. “And that makes her about fifty five now. So what’s your point?”

  “My point is that the sister was eighteen, and Gordon would have been about twenty two or so. Where did Gordon go to college?”

  “Probably Cal,” Marilyn conjectured.

  “And the grandfather would have been about sixty or so,” Casey added.

  Marilyn added, “And thirty-one years ago, Gordon senior was the D.A.”

  Before Milt Adams, yep. For a long time and before. Gordon’s grandfather was a bigshot lobbyist in Sacramento.”

  Slowly Casey added it up. “The sister was eighteen and Gordon was twenty-one or two and going to Cal at the same time she was. That would make him in his late fifties now. Gordon’s grandfather was the D.A. at the time, and someone with influence squashed the murder case against the private detective that was investigating the rape case. Sounds suspicious to me.”

  “Yes, but now? Who’s pulling the strings now? For the life of me, I can’t see Gordon doing anything like that. And certainly not the grandfather. Not at ninety-three. There has to be some other explanation,” Josie vehemently denied.

  “Wait, Josie,” Marilyn said. “I’m not so sure. There’s a side to Gordon that I don’t know if you’ve ever seen. He can be really vindictive, especially where his family’s concerned,”

  Smitty smacked a huge hand down on the table. “Enough! We’re going in too many directions. “We got Lanner and what’s his name in Richmond, Peterson upstairs, and now you think we should investigate the D.A. and his ninety-three-year-old grandfather?” He directed the tirade at Josie.

  Casey chimed in. “We can let Peterson go right? And as far as the sister’s concerned? She wants in, and I think that’s okay”

  “Okay, but that leaves Lanner and his sidekick,” Smitty said. “Isn’t there some way we can turn them over to the authorities?” he asked Josie.

  “Not to Gordon we can’t, not with the unanswered questions you’re asking about him,” she replied. “I’m okay with keeping them as guests for a few days while I figure the best way to prosecute them.” She turned to Marilyn. “Think you could talk one of your friends into quietly running an arrest history on those two?”

  “Easy as pie,” Marilyn responded, paused for a second then added, “A little advice, Josie. You better get a retainer from Lanner and at least for the present be his attorney. We know he’s been in jail a number of times. He’s probably violating his parole by carrying a gun and being in the presence of another known criminal. You know what I’m talking about.”

  Startled, Josie quickly agreed. “I’m just not thinking like a defense attorney yet.”

  “Alright, alright,” Smitty interjected. “Les, you get Peterson, tell him we got Lanner under lock and key and he’s free to go. Give him a ride downtown if he needs it. Got it?”

  “Will do,” he replied.

  “Josie, can you bring the sister down here? Bring her up to date on the way down,” he added.

  “I have an announcement to make,” the sister said as she joined the group that was startled by her appearance.

  She was dressed in a knee length skirt with a contrasting blouse and a light sweater. To complete the outfit, she was wearing stylish low-healed moccasins. Her hair had been cut into a boyish bob and she was wearing makeup. She bore no resemblance to yesterday’s sister. Josie made a mock presentation of her to the group and said, “We found time for a little shopping yesterday afternoon.”

  “I am no longer Sister Agnes. I’ve decided to go back to my original name, Jeannine. To be precise, Jeannine LaPorte,” she firmly and formally announced.

  It took a few moments for the group to react to this double whammy. An attractively made up, very feminine, smartly dressed woman renouncing her Catholic sisterhood in their midst.

  She continued. “And what’s more, I’m even more convinced that I want to be in on helping your friend Gus out of jail. Whatever I can do.”
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  Smitty was the first to find his tongue and somewhat uncharacteristically sprang to his feet and offered her his chair. At the same time saying, “You’re more than welcome. Isn’t she?” he challenged.

  She sat and immediately confronted the group. “I overheard your talk about your friend Gordon,” she directed to Josie and Marilyn. “I can settle that question in a hurry; just arrange for me to meet him. He either is or he isn’t the man that raped me, and I’ll know right away.”

  There was silence for a moment. Smitty asked, “You’re up to that?”

  “Of course,” she replied as if was an everyday occurrence.

  He thought for a short while then turned to Marilyn. “You know his schedule. Could you arrange for her to see him up close?”

  “Probably, like maybe in a restaurant or something. Leave it to me.”

  Casey was studying the sister. Hesitantly and with a shy grin, he addressed her by her requested name.

  “Jeannine, do you have any idea how those two guys found out about you being at the nunnery?”

  “Not at all except maybe the same way you did?”

  “Not a chance. We think maybe Lanner himself told somebody.”

  Smitty interrupted him. “We need to find out who he told. Les, call the guys in Richmond and see if he’ll talk about it. Maybe they can trick him into talking,” he said with a wolfish grin.

  Les grinned back. “Loud and clear,” he answered.

  Casey stood up, walked around his chair and put both hands on the top back of it, obviously having something to say.

  “It’s patently obvious to me that the D.A.’s family is up to its ears in this thing and we need to find out a lot about them. We need to be careful and discreet because they’re powerful, vicious, and evidently have connections. Earlier Josie asked me if I thought that maybe we should just back away because of the danger. I can’t see us doing that because of Gus. We’re not trained investigators and the one that was got himself murdered. I think we should get as many of the gang together at the warehouse and use our collective memories to get at the Mason family history.” He turned to Smitty.

  “How many guys can you muster?”