Dead Down East

by Carl Schmidt

  “In case I haven’t made it clear, Jesse,” Cynthia continued, “I also want you to find out who killed William.”

  “Gulp,” I thought, as I swallowed hard. “I’ll do all I can,” I said. “Let’s hope the FBI manages to do that very quickly.”

  “And one final thing,” she said. “I want you to be my personal bodyguard, for as long as necessary, until I feel it’s safe for me to be out in public again.”

  “Agreed, with one caveat,” I said. “I have been working on a construction job for several weeks, and I can tell the foreman that I need to be away from that job indefinitely. That’s no problem. However, our band has some scheduled gigs. I am committed to those. So other than gigs and occasional band practices here, I’m all yours.”

  “Thank you. Yes, I would appreciate staying here for now. In fact, I might want to stay here for quite some time. Will that be all right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  And with that, the die was cast.

  9

  Surveillance

  “Hello?”

  “Eric?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eight-thirty.”

  “What day is it?”

  “Monday.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Jesse.”

  “Jesse?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eric,” I said, “I need you to help me on a job.”

  There was a long pause at the other end. Then Eric asked, “What kind of job?”

  “I’m on a case.”

  “Are you investigating the Lavoilette murder?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Nah, nothing that big. Just your run-of-the-mill Peeping Tom case.”

  “Is she a looker?”

  “Oh yeah!” I said. “You can see her for yourself. She’s in my spare bedroom.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  “Not so fast,” I said. “I need to pick you up and drive you to her house, because I want you to drive her car back here. She’s afraid to go home.”

  “I’m ready, all ready,” Eric said, enthusiastically.

  “See you in ten minutes,” I replied.

  Cynthia was having coffee in the kitchen. The night’s sleep looked good on her. I sensed that anger was just beginning to work its way onto her emotional calendar, between the sadness and the fear. I liked that. Anger holds more life and gets the job done.

  “Cynthia,” I said, “I’m off to your house. I’ll have my friend, Eric, drive your car back here this morning. Incidentally, Eric is between girlfriends at the moment, so he might get friendly when he shows up with your car. Don’t encourage him. He’s like a lost dog; if you give him a bone, he’ll try to move in. If he asks you to drive him home, tell him I’ll do that when I get back.

  “That reminds me. Do you want to use your actual name while you are here, or would you prefer an alias?”

  “Gee, I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe an alias would be better. On the other hand, my face appears on real estate signs all over town. If I used an alias, it might actually draw attention to me. Let’s just go with Cynthia and not use a last name.”

  “OK,” I said. “I’ll set up the cameras at your place. The system is wireless, and the videos will feed through your computer to the Internet. We’ll then be able to view them directly on my computer. I’ll need the password to your computer in order to set this up.”

  “Here, I’ll write it out for you,” she said.

  She jotted it down on a note pad and handed it to me.

  “‘C y n h o m e 1’” I recited, “And the ‘C’ is the only capital.”

  “Right.”

  “OK. My computer is all set to receive the signal. When I’m finished setting the system up at your house, I’ll call you to see if you can view the video. You won’t have to do a thing. The images on all four cameras should appear on my screen.

  “Now, what would you like me to bring back from your house?” I asked.

  Cynthia had already made a list. She handed it to me and said, “Let me know if you have trouble finding anything.”

  “Our cover story about why you are staying with me is that there’s been someone hanging around your house at night, looking through your windows. You didn’t feel safe, so you’re staying here until it’s cleared up. That should work fine for the guys in our band, and I’m hoping Angele will buy it too. She’s a sharp cookie though; she might see through the ruse. I have very little control over that woman, and strangely enough, I like it that way. When she’s on land, she’s a cyclone. Over water, she’s a typhoon.”

  “Thar she blows!” Cynthia said, and I saw her smile for the first time since picking her up.

  “You said it,” I replied.

  “I’ve put in the order for the license plate information,” I continued. “We should have a name by tomorrow. Whenever you think it’s a good time, call Richard and ask him to come over.”

  “I already did that,” she said. “He’ll be here as soon as he can. He has an interview with the FBI this morning at nine.”

  “I should have mentioned this last night, but I didn’t think of it. Don’t tell anyone about the surveillance cameras at your house. Not even Richard. We don’t want anyone to know they are on camera.”

  “OK,” she said. “I didn’t mention it to him when we talked this morning.”

  “Good. If Richard gets here before I come back, don’t let him into my office where he might see the videos. I’m not suggesting that we can’t trust Richard, but we want to be as invisible as possible.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m glad you mentioned Richard’s interview with the FBI. It is entirely possible that your name will come up. I don’t know if the two of you have discussed this yet, but it is important for you to be prepared ahead of time in the event that the FBI shows up at my door looking for you. Remember, they have on file that I picked you up near the crime scene. Once your name surfaces in the investigation, they will search their database for any reference to your name, and bingo, you and I will be front and center. We might even become suspects.”

  “Yes, that definitely occurred to me,” Cynthia said. “I’m still unsettled as to what I should do…what I should say.”

  “I’m not a lawyer, but it seems your only viable option is to tell the truth. I don’t think it would be wise to dodge their questions. You might have the right to do that, but if you are evasive, they will consider you an uncooperative witness.

  “At this point, I think that they would understand that your actions on Saturday night and Sunday morning were at least somewhat reasonable. You were under duress, and you feared for your life. But the fact is, you blatantly lied to FBI Officer Handley. I fudged the truth when I said I didn’t have a client, but you said that you were staying in the Smith’s house. That was a clear lie.”

  “Yes.”

  “Still, I think they would be sympathetic. But remember, we are talking about the FBI and the murder of the Governor of Maine. They will not be messing around. So…you need to decide right here and right now how you will handle yourself if, or rather when, they come knocking at the door.”

  “OK. If that happens, I’ll tell the whole truth. All of it.”

  Cynthia seemed shaken by this eventuality, but I was convinced that she would follow through.

  I continued, “As far as what happens in the next couple of days, a lot will hinge on Richard’s interview. Eventually, however, it is almost a certainty that you will have to tell your story to the police. You could get very lucky. They might catch the murderer, or murderers, and be able to convict them on evidence totally unrelated to you; time will tell. Then again, they might not be able to locate a suspect at all. In that case, you will have to decide whether or not you want to come forward voluntarily.”

  “I’ve been wondering about that. Right now, I don’t know,” she said.

  “That’s fine. You’ll have time to think that through if things
drag on indefinitely with no arrests.

  “All right,” I said. “I’m leaving now. Mi casa es su casa, Cynthia. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen and the pantry. Feel free to use my computer in the office, just open a new tab on the browser. That way the page stays up with the surveillance videos. I’ll stop by Shaw’s before coming home and pick up some groceries for the week. Is there anything special you want?”

  “I like fish,” she replied. “Asparagus and arugula are in season now, too. Please bring over all the perishables from my refrigerator. I won’t be eating at home for a while. Oh, and here’s your retainer payment,” and she held out a folded check.

  I put my hand up and said, “We’ll take care of that later. Just keep it in your purse for now. I want to get going, and I don’t want it lying around here where someone might see it. Fish, asparagus, and arugula. Got it. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  • • •

  I drove straight to Eric Cochrane’s house. He was out front, standing on the sidewalk with a doughnut in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. It’s a new look for Eric. Not the doughnut and the coffee, but the morning sunshine on his face. Eric sets his alarm for noon and then oversleeps on a regular basis.

  “Should I bring an overnight bag and my toothbrush?” Eric asked. Then he winked and climbed into my Forester.

  “She’s not that kind of woman, Eric. Don’t make any moves. She’s frightened.”

  Eric took a bite of his doughnut. I couldn’t tell if he was hungry or just needed to console himself. “Let’s roll,” he said.

  Cynthia lives on Ridgewood Drive just east of the Kennebec River. When we got to her street, I drove all the way to the cul-de-sac and back again, passing Cynthia’s house twice. I wanted to see if anyone might be hanging around and possibly waiting for her. Nothing seemed suspicious, so I turned around, drove back to her house and parked in the driveway.

  Eric and I got out of the car, collected the surveillance equipment from the back and went inside. The house looked tidy; there were no signs of trouble. As we walked into the garage, I gave Eric the keys to Cynthia’s Camry.

  “I’ll set up the camera equipment myself, Eric. Please just drive her car back to my place and wait for me. Here are my keys; you’ll have to move the Forester. Park it on the street and leave the keys in it. When you get to my house, just say hello to Cynthia and give her the keys. She’s nervous about the stalker that’s been hanging around here, so just let her be. When I get back to the house, I’ll drive you home.”

  “Will do, Jesse.”

  “And don’t talk to anyone about the cameras. We don’t want to blow our cover.”

  “Roger that.”

  I opened the garage door. Eric moved my car and then backed Cynthia’s car down the driveway and into the street.

  I took a walk around the property to determine the best locations for the cameras, and got to work. When the cameras were in place, I turned them on and booted the computer. In about half an hour, the system was up and running.

  I called Cynthia to see if she could view the video images on my computer. “All four images look good,” she said. “Eric is here now, and he made himself at home. You were right. He looks like a lost dog, but he seems harmless.”

  “Looks can be deceiving, Cynthia. Remember…no bones.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “I’ll pick up your things and swing by the grocery store on my way home. I should be back in about forty-five minutes. If Richard calls, have him come over as soon as possible. Just be sure not to talk about the case in front of Eric.”

  “All right,” she said, and we hung up.

  I retrieved her personal belongings, cleaned out the refrigerator and went to Shaw’s for the rest of the groceries. Then I drove straight home. The only car in the driveway was Cynthia’s Camry, so apparently Richard was still engaged with the FBI.

  I put the groceries away and went to check on the camera system. It looked fine. I could see a lady walking her dog along the road in front of Cynthia’s house. Nothing was happening on the other three screens.

  Eric had helped himself to some breakfast cereal and was watching the latest news about the murder on the TV. “It’s weird,” he said. “The Governor of Maine gets murdered, and two days later they don’t even have a suspect.”

  “It’s hard to figure,” I said.

  “There’s some speculation that the governor had a mistress,” Eric added.

  “Who’s speculating?” I asked.

  “Fox News.”

  “Really? Then it must be true,” I said.

  “Don’t be sarcastic, Jesse. Sometimes they get a scoop. I don’t watch Fox much either, but I’ve been switching through the news stations to catch all the perspectives. Fox is the only station that has offered a possible motive. They don’t have any names yet, but they are pushing the mistress angle.”

  Eric paused a bit and then turned the TV off.

  “You know what I think?” he asked, and then immediately answered his own question, “I think the governor’s wife hired someone to do it. I never trusted her. She has a cold, disinterested look. Whenever I’ve seen her standing with her husband, she always seems distant, like she doesn’t care about him. It’s a little too convenient that she was out of the country when it happened. He has probably been fooling around for years, and she finally decided she’d had enough.”

  “Cherchez la femme,” I said.

  “What’s that?” Eric asked.

  “It’s French for, ‘Look for the woman.’”

  “The French know about women,” Eric replied, philosophically. “Rebecca Lavoilette. Twenty bucks says she’s guilty.”

  “I suppose it’s possible, but I’ll take that bet, Eric.”

  I dug in my wallet and pulled out a twenty.

  “Here,” I said. “You hold the money. When it’s all over, you can give me forty.”

  Eric kissed the twenty and put it in his wallet. “Money in the bank,” he said.

  “Listen, I’m expecting a visitor in a little while. If you don’t mind, I’d like to drive you home now.”

  “Sure,” Eric said. “By the way, I’m working on a new song. I should have it completed by Thursday. I’d like to have the band play it this weekend if we can arrange it.”

  “Sounds good. Have you finished your breakfast?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  I drove Eric home and got back to my place in about fifteen minutes. There was a silver Lexus with a mint green interior parked in the driveway. Richard Merrill was waiting for me in the living room.

  10

  Two Loaded Women & A Private Dick

  Richard Merrill stood about 5’10”. He was wearing a stylish gray silk suit with a colorful Hawaiian tie—not the kind of outfit you’d wear to a funeral. But then, that would come later in the week.

  Richard waited for me to walk over to him. I couldn’t decide whether this was a ploy to gain the upper hand or a courtesy to Cynthia, who was standing beside him.

  I reached out my hand and said, “Richard Merrill, I presume.”

  “Yes,” he replied, as we shook.

  “I’m Jesse Thorpe.”

  “How do you do?”

  A little formal, I thought, but he’s been a friend to the governor for almost four years…longer if you count the pre-gubernatorial decades.

  “Let’s sit down,” I suggested. “Would either of you like something to drink?”

  “Water would be fine,” Richard said.

  Cynthia nodded, and I fetched three waters in distinctly different tumblers, just to keep them straight.

  “Richard, I understand that you’ve just been interviewed by the FBI,” I said. “How did that go? Do they have any idea who murdered Governor Lavoilette?”

  “The FBI and the Maine State Police hold their cards close to the vest,” he said. “They questioned me for an hour and a half. I was William’s closest friend. There was a lot of ground to cover. I have t
o go back at two o’clock to continue the interview.”

  “I assume you know that Cynthia has hired me to protect her and to investigate the murder privately.”

  “Yes, Cynthia told me.”

  “I could ask you a lot of questions,” I said, “but I think it would be simpler if you’d just tell me whatever you think is important for me to know for my investigation.”

  “Have you done this kind of work before?” he asked.

  I didn’t care for the tone of his question. It sounded vaguely condescending and hinted that I might be in over my head. I was, of course, in way over my head, but it was my job to keep my own cards close to the vest too. I’ve had plenty of experience with hecklers in nightclubs, so I knew how to handle a suit with an attitude.

  “I’ve been a licensed private investigator for six years. I have experience providing protection, researching crimes, questioning combative individuals, and assisting defense and prosecution lawyers. Granted, this is the first time I’ve been involved in a murder case, so I’ll be more cautious than usual. But I’m up to it. I have a .38 Special and a license to have it concealed on my person. Hopefully it won’t be necessary to use it.”

  I’ve practiced that speech for years. It’s the first time I’ve given it to a live audience, but I managed to ad lib the part about the concealed firearm rather nicely. All in all, I sounded pretty self-assured…perhaps a decibel too loud and ever so slightly defensive, but both of those indiscretions were minor at worst, and probably went undetected. At least Richard appeared satisfied when he replied, “OK.”

  He paused for a minute to collect himself. Cynthia sat next to him on the sofa and didn’t say a word.

  Richard began, “I’ve known William since high school. He was my best friend. We’ve shared our highs and lows. I never imagined something like this. I’m in shock. This came totally out of the blue.