Dead Down East

by Carl Schmidt

  “Without even a moment’s hesitation, William said, ‘Sure thing.’ He circled around and pulled up behind the other car. He left the motor running and the lights on. Before popping the trunk to get his jack, William decided to have a look at the situation. He told me quietly to stay down, but I thought I probably couldn’t be seen anyway, since our lights were in the guy’s face. I peeked over the front seat to have a look. The guy waited by his right front fender as William got out of the car and walked over to him.”

  Cynthia took a deep breath and sipped the last of her tea, which now was as cold as the evening air.

  “That’s when it happened,” she said, choking back tears. “I heard a single shot ring out, and William fell immediately. Apparently the guy bent over to see if he was alive or not, because right after the shot, he disappeared from view. I froze in terror. I didn’t know whether to attempt an escape from the car or stay put. If I opened the door to run, I’d obviously be seen, and the assailant would track me down. If I stayed in the car, he might very well come over and find me. My best chance seemed to be to stay put and hope the guy would flee the scene unaware of my presence. I was certain he hadn’t seen me at that point and wouldn’t be able to unless he actually walked over and opened the door. If he made any movement toward me, I’d make a dash into the night.

  “After a few moments he stood up. That’s when I saw the gun, still in his right hand, and the towel in his left. He stared for a moment, looking into the windshield of our car. It was the first time I actually saw his face. Then he looked all around, I guess to make sure there was no one else in the vicinity. There were no other cars on the road. Moments after the shot was fired, a light came on from somewhere behind me and across the road to my left, probably from a house nestled behind a stand of trees. The light filtered through, but barely reached us. Compared to our headlights, it was not bright at all.

  “He took a few steps toward our car, and my heart raced out of control. I was just about to make a run for it when I heard a man calling from the direction of the porch light. Apparently he had heard the shot and came out of his house to see what was happening. He yelled, ‘Is everything OK? I thought I heard a shot.’

  “The assailant shouted back, ‘No problem, my car just backfired. I think it’ll be fine.’

  “I glanced back to see the neighbor behind me. He just stood there as if waiting for assurance. It must have spooked the assailant. He quickly wrapped the towel around the gun, walked around the front of his car and got in. As soon as his engine fired up, the neighbor walked back down the road toward his house. He seemed so relaxed that it was obvious he hadn’t seen the gun. The driver turned on his lights and drove around the bend.

  “As he was pulling away, I spotted Williams’ body. It looked as if he had been dragged several feet down the embankment. I kept my eyes riveted on the taillights of the car as he drove around the corner. Before I made a move, I wanted to be certain he was gone and wasn’t coming back.

  “He was almost out of sight when he stopped his car and got out. I was terrified. Adrenaline shot through my veins. He might be coming back for me! This time I got out of the car, prepared to run if necessary. Thankfully, the overhead light didn’t come on. William always kept that in the off position for privacy.

  “I couldn’t actually see the killer or much of his car, but I could see the taillights shining through the trees. He must have walked around to the back of his car because his left taillight became obscured for a moment and then reappeared. He stayed there for a few seconds, and then I heard two separate thuds. It sounded as if he had thrown a couple of things into the woods across the road. After that, he got back into his car and drove away.”

  “Wow,” I said. We both just sat there for a while until I added, “I’m so sorry, Cynthia. Would you like to take a break?”

  “Yes, maybe a break is a good idea,” she said.

  “I don’t want to sound indelicate immediately after your description of William’s murder, but we haven’t had anything to eat since we left Brunswick. Would you like something?”

  “I am feeling shaky,” she replied. “Do you have any soup?”

  “Always,” I said. “I’m the Campbell’s Soup poster boy. I’ve got tomato and cream of mushroom.”

  “Cream of mushroom sounds good,” she said.

  I slipped into the pantry and pulled two cans of soup from the shelf. I called from the kitchen, “The mushroom won’t be very creamy. I finished up all the milk before I left for the cabin. I wasn’t expecting to be home until Thursday.”

  “That’s fine,” Cynthia said. “I’ve just been through a near death experience. I’m not in a mood to be fussy about the cuisine.”

  I opened the cans, emptied them into a pot, added water and turned on the stove. I took some rye bread out of the refrigerator and popped the slices in the toaster. “It’s not gourmet,” I thought, “but it should get us through the night.”

  It was after eleven, but I knew that the evening was just getting started. We’d both slept through the late afternoon, and Cynthia’s account of the murder had our juices flowing.

  When supper was hot and toasted, I served it in the living room. We ate in silence; Cynthia kept to herself, and I stared into the night. Initially, I had wondered why Cynthia didn’t want to speak to the police, and especially to the FBI. They would be able to provide all the protection she might need. Now I was beginning to get the picture.

  Although she saw the murderer’s face, she apparently had no idea who he was, and almost certainly there must have been at least one accomplice. How else could it have been pulled off so smoothly? So it was entirely possible that they knew she was with William. And even if they didn’t, once she became an eyewitness, attention would be focused on her. It was bound to get sordid and messy. Eventually the public would know the whole story. Her life would never be the same again; not that it will be anyway. But it would be much worse for her if the whole story were exposed. I found her to be both astute and sensitive—an appealing combination in a woman—and the sensitive part would take a real beating. It was obvious to me now why Cynthia felt so threatened and didn’t want to go to the police. If I were in her shoes, I too would find a private detective and go on the lamb.

  After we finished our dinner, I said, “One thing is puzzling me. If you were just going to the movies, why do you have all of your clothes? I assume you didn’t go back to the house by yourself.”

  I watched Cynthia closely as she answered my question.

  “William insisted that I keep all my things with us in the car when we went to the movie,” she said. “The guard was free to inspect William’s home for security reasons while we were gone. He might discover my clothing or my overnight case in the bathroom.”

  “I see,” I said.

  Cynthia didn’t miss a beat. Her explanation was logical, and her poise was impeccable. It set my mind at ease…for the moment.

  “If you’re up to it,” I said, “I’d like to know more about the governor, what he was like, how you met…things like that. Later we can return to the murder scene and discuss a few details.”

  Cynthia nodded and said, “OK.”

  “I met William for the first time shortly after he was elected, three-and-a-half years ago. As you know, my ex-husband, Travis, is a member of the security staff assigned to protect the governor and other visiting dignitaries. Between the time of his election and his inauguration, a dinner party was arranged for William and his staff to get acquainted with the security team. The families of all concerned were invited. Travis and I were both enthusiastic about going. The party was held at the Regency Inn and Spa on Western Avenue.

  “After a few short speeches and dinner, we all adjourned to the beautiful indoor pool area. We sat around the pool and had some drinks.

  “Rebecca and William were not attentive to one another. In fact, Rebecca seemed genuinely bored and uninterested. This surprised me, as I had assumed she would be reveling in her new
found celebrity—First Lady of Maine.

  “William, on the other hand was warm and gracious to everyone. He flirted with several of the wives and girlfriends, but it all seemed innocent to me. It was meant to be a celebration, and it was clearly the governor’s show. When Travis formally introduced us, William flirted with me as well. Rebecca hardly noticed, but Travis did.

  “The drive home that night was ice cold. Travis was completely unresponsive, until he broke the silence with, ‘How could you?’

  “‘How could I…what?’ I asked, shocked and put out.

  “‘You practically invited the governor to your bed,’ he said.

  “‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said. ‘We were just being friendly. That’s what the party was all about.’

  “Strange as it may seem, that was a turning point in our marriage. Things were chilly between us throughout the winter, and they stayed that way even when the weather warmed up in spring. Our marriage was never the same. It seemed so odd to me that one rather minor incident could unravel things so completely. But it did.

  “As you know, we were divorced about a year later. That’s when the stalking began; that’s when I hired you.”

  I nodded, without saying anything.

  Cynthia continued, “Before we split up, Travis would come home from work and complain to me about the escapades of the governor. Travis was never specific, but it was evident that the governor was having an affair and quite possibly more than one. He was a very attractive, wealthy and powerful man with a detached wife. According to Travis, women moved in like ants to a picnic. It was clear that Travis not only resented me for being attracted to William, but he was also jealous of William who could attract the ladies so effortlessly. I’m sure it made Travis feel emasculated. He hated being subordinate to anyone.”

  For a short time Cynthia just stopped talking. I waited awhile and then decided to pose a few questions.

  “I assume you didn’t recognize the murderer,” I said.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Do you have any idea who might be involved?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, rather conclusively.

  “Did William ever talk about any personal enemies?”

  “No. Occasionally we’d talk about his political squabbles, but nothing seemed especially personal. Besides, politics and romance are like oil and water. He wanted to hear about my real estate work more than he wanted to discuss politics.”

  “Do you know the names of any of the women who might have had an affair with him?” I asked.

  “Not really. Travis was instructed by his superiors to be completely discrete about William’s private life. If a rumor ever went public, there would be an investigation, and heads would roll. I guess I could suggest a couple of names, but I really couldn’t say if either of them actually slept with him. William never talked about other women. Well…Rebecca, of course, but no one else.”

  I said, “Just a minute. It’s time to take some notes. I’ll get a pen and paper.”

  I returned from my office with a legal pad and pen, ready to write.

  “OK, Cynthia, please give me the names of the women that were closest to the governor, especially anyone who might have had a romance with him.”

  “As far as I know, there are two women who are possibilities,” Cynthia said. “While I was with William, I really didn’t want to know any of his prior affairs. I’m not even certain he had any, but I think it’s fairly likely. When we started dating, he seemed comfortable having both a wife and a girlfriend, as if it were familiar ground. But I was swept away, and I didn’t really care about his past. The two women that come to mind are Michelle Jackson and Emily Haywood. I really don’t know much about either.”

  “Did you ever see them interact with the governor?” I asked.

  “I saw them once, and that was at the pre-inaugural party. William was friendly with both of them. Michelle was particularly enthralled with him. Emily seemed more surprised and a little shy. The only reason I even remember their names is that a couple of times they came up in conversations between William and Richard. But nothing that they said indicated there had been a romantic connection. Obviously Richard could tell you more than I can.”

  “For sure. I’ll want to talk with him as soon as he gets back. By the way, did he tell you when that would be?”

  “He said he’d be coming home immediately. He’s probably in Augusta now.”

  “All right,” I said. “What about Travis? Do you think there is any chance that he is involved in the murder? After all, he was jealous of William, and he did stalk you after your divorce. He had both a motive and opportunity.”

  “I have considered that, of course. Travis does have a temper,” Cynthia said. “But I really can’t imagine him doing this. Of course, I have a hard time imagining anyone doing this, so it’s difficult for me to single someone out. Travis has not had any contact with me for at least a year. I’ve seen him at the grocery store. Augusta is a small town, so our paths cross now and again. We never talk, and we both avoid eye contact. I suppose it is possible that he’s involved, but I doubt it.”

  “I want to have a talk with him to see what he knows, but it’s rather doubtful that he will talk to me, especially if he thinks you hired me. Do you think he knows about your affair with William?”

  “I don’t know. That’s possible too, but I have no way of knowing. Richard might know.”

  “Right. I think the best way to proceed is for you to call Richard tomorrow, and see if he can come out here so that we can talk together. It’s fine that he knows I’ll be working for you, but he’s the only one that should. I think he’ll be able to provide me with some suggestions of where to begin the investigation. I also want to ask a favor of him.

  “I want him to be my ‘client,’ not officially, but in name only. When I interview anyone close to the governor, he or she might be more willing to talk if they think I represent Richard, rather than you. If it’s a woman, Richard will appear less threatening to them. The ‘other woman’ might engender some jealousy. Furthermore, since Richard obviously knows a lot about William’s personal relationships, they might be more inclined to tell the truth, rather than be caught in an obvious lie.”

  “Good idea,” Cynthia said. “I’m sure that will be fine with Richard. But we’ll have to ask him, of course.”

  “OK,” I said. “There are just a couple more things I want to talk about tonight. Then we’ll get some sleep and start fresh tomorrow.”

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Let’s go back to the murder scene. You saw the murderer. What did he look like?”

  “He seemed to be just about the same height as William. Six feet or so. He looked strong and well built…probably a little less than 200 pounds. He was wearing a ball cap, so I couldn’t see his hair, but the most prominent feature on his face was his beard. And I’m pretty sure it was fake.”

  “How could you tell?” I asked.

  “After struggling with William’s body, he stood up. I’m almost certain that part of the beard had come loose from his sideburns. It looked as if he pasted it back into place with the hand that was holding the towel. It happened very quickly, but that’s what it looked like. It was a very full dark beard. It certainly obscured a clear view of his face. Plus, the cap was pulled down fully over his forehead. All I could see clearly were his eyes and nose.”

  “How about his voice?”

  “I only heard him call out two times, once to William and once to the neighbor. I didn’t notice anything unusual about it. It was a strong masculine voice. I would guess he is about 40 years old.”

  “How about his car?”

  “It was a silver Honda CRV. I got the license plate.”

  “Whoa! What made you do that?”

  “As William was walking around to help, I had a clear view of it. Our lights were shining right on the back end of his SUV. It had one of those lobster vanity plates. It read, ‘GOFURS.’ Until the shot was fired,
I was trying to figure out what it meant. After it was all over, and he drove away, I escaped into the night. Later I wrote it down on a pad in my purse so I wouldn’t forget. I’ll double check now, but it sticks in my mind like a photograph.”

  Cynthia opened her purse and pulled out a note pad and handed it to me. I copied it to my legal pad.

  “I can find the owner of that license plate,” I said. “The DMV will not give out the owner’s information to the public, but licensed investigators have online access to it. I can get the registered owner’s name, make and model of the vehicle. It normally takes one business day to get a response. I’ll boot up my computer and place the order for the information tonight. We should have the name by Tuesday.

  “There’s something else I’d like to discuss before we turn in for the night,” I said. “I have not told anyone that we have been in touch. You are welcome to stay here as long as you like. But if you do stay, I will have to explain you to my girlfriend, Angele. When we spoke this morning, she said she would be coming here on Thursday. Also, my band will be here on Thursday for practice. They don’t have to know about you, but Angele will. Is that OK?”

  “Yes. Just be sure that Angele does not tell anyone about me. Also, I haven’t made it entirely clear what I would like you to do. I’d like to clarify that now. I want to hire you full time for three basic responsibilities. First, I want you to check out my home and see if anyone goes there or hangs around. I hope you can set up a permanent surveillance camera.”

  “Yes. I can install it tomorrow. I have a four-camera system. I’ll set it up to watch front, back and inside. We’ll be able to monitor your house remotely from here over the Internet. Why don’t you give me the keys to your home? I’ll take care of that first thing in the morning.”

  Cynthia pulled her keys out of her bag and tossed them to me. Then she said, “It might be a good idea to pick up my car as well.”

  “OK. I think I can get Eric to help me with that. If he is free tomorrow morning, I’ll pick him up on the way to your house, and he can drive your car back here. We’ll be careful not to be followed, in case anyone is looking for you. I even have a set of ‘temporary’ plates that I can put on my own car, to help keep my own identity more confidential. I got the plates from a junkyard for just this kind of situation. It will be the first time I’ve actually used them.”