Murder Mysteries #5

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  From the real estate company he noted the company name and phone number. On a fresh legal pad he dialed up the brokerage firm. His call was answered by a sweet sounding young lady that made the caller feel welcome. Ben liked that after identifying himself, asked to talk with Felix Warner. "I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Warner called in ill this morning. He said he was going to see his doctor."

  "Thanks and I've his home number, but if he comes in have him call me at our office please and ask for Detective Ben Razor." Ben sat back with his pencil tapping is lips wondering where Felix Warner really was. He leaned forward and rang his residence. After a few rings an answering service told him the usual leave 'a message' stuff. Ben did as told and hung up.

  He thought, did Felix take a runner knowing he would be a suspect in a murder at the health club? If so then that would mean he knew Dirk Cassiday was dead. But just then a flash of light hit him. Ben smacked his head thinking how stupid he was not seeing the guy had a cell phone number almost flashing on his application. However, after a fair amount of rings, it too went unanswered. Ben went to see Stacy.

  Stacy was just getting off the phone with Connie as he walked in with a slight hesitation of a rap on the door casing. Stacy liked that about Ben. He had manners and good sense. However, she saw a troubled look on his face as he sat down next to her desk. She waited patiently for him to speak. He said, "I can't locate Felix Warner. He called in sick at work and told the office he was going to see a doctor. No answer at home or on his cell. This could certainly be legitimate going to a doctor and calling in sick. But he was seen at the health club by Pete Poncy."

  Ben held the eye contact waiting for Stacy to respond. She said, "This is not good Ben. It's possible he's at the doctor, but unlikely. Now what? It seems like we're having a hard time getting started here. A search warrant is out of the question at this point in time. Humm—what a revolting development. For the time being Ben check on Shawn Little who works for a life insurance company just alongside I-5 and not far from your office at the state police station."

  "Let's hope for better luck this time around," said Ben as he went back to his office. Surprising after he called Ben was connected to Shawn Little almost immediately. After identifying himself, he asked, "Mr. Little would you be available to answer a few question about this mornings activities at the health club where you live?"

  "I'm here all day detective, but may I ask why you want to talk to me about this mornings work out?

  "This morning around 7:30 am a Mr. Dirk Cassiday was discovered dead of suspicious circumstances. I can be at your office in thirty minutes if that's convenient for you."

  In his response, Ben could tell Shawn Little had a little apprehension or some nervous tension in his voice. He agreed on the time.

  Ben saw Stacy putting on her windbreaker noting she was leaving. He said, "Shawn Little agreed to meet me at his office in thirty minutes. Afterwards I'll come back here to check or follow up on Felix Warner."

  "Good Ben and I too made contact with Boyd Riggins and am off to visit with him. He sounded friendly and not nervous at all. Would you mind dropping me on your way to see Shawn?"

  "Sure can do that very thing. I'll let Sharon and Emma know where I'm going."

  The Loan Manager Slips a Nugget

  On the way to see the loan manager Boyd Riggins, Stacy said, "Ben any ideas about Felix and where he might be if not truly sick?"

  "The only thing I can think of is he might have seen something or knows something that might incriminate himself. He could possibly think he's a prime suspect and decided to take off and think about it. Another thing he might be doing is seeing a lawyer. Regardless, if he's not really feeling puny, he knows we'll track him down eventually. One the one hand I like it because he must know something to give us something to work with. On the other hand, he might just be running scared and for a good reason: he might be our perp?"

  "Well here we are at the bank. Ben I feel we'll solve this case in good time. We need Rory to check out the backgrounds of our suspects that were formally from Portland. I'll see you back at the office." Stacy got out and walked through a nicely renovated bank that had combined Old World architecture with modern touches here and there. The tall wood with glass double doors was manned with security. A smiling guard opened the doors into a large area decorated in oak. The floor was a pale green marble under a vaulted ceiling with oak beams and two large circulating fans slowly turned keeping the air from becoming stagnant.

  Off to the side a receptionist sat behind a sign that said information and new accounts. Stacy went up to her handing her a business card saying, "I've an appointment with Boyd Riggins."

  With startling dark brown eyes that would put Rory on his knees said, "Just a moment please," as she put her phone to her ear. Five seconds later she rose and said, "Follow me please." Stacy fell in line seeing the opposite side of her eyes and down lower that would also have Rory crying for mercy, she thought smiling.

  Coming to a wood door of oak, a knock and a come in was heard. Behind the door Stacy saw Boyd Riggins not for the first time in her life. He was a regular at the health club and Stacy had seen him many times, but had never talked to him. She held out her hand and said, "We meet officially under strange circumstances Mr. Riggins."

  Call me Boyd and may I call you Stacy?"

  "Yes, please do Boyd. Are you aware of what happened at the health club around 7:30 this morning?"

  She saw his heavy eyebrows dip down upon hearing that something transpired after he left the club. He said, "No, I've heard nothing. I was there early and left around, let me see; maybe a quarter till 7 or a little closer to 7. I arrived at work my usual time. What happened Stacy?"

  "Do you know Dirk Cassiday Boyd?"

  "Yes I do. We're not bosom buddies, but say hi and I help once in awhile with his lifting. He's a power lifter and I'm just a regular guy who likes to keep my desk muscles active."

  Stacy noted he was not going to add anything other than the question so she continued, "Did you see him this morning and have you ever socialized with him—say like having a beer?"

  "I did see him the morning, but I didn't talk to him. Earlier this spring we had some nice March weather. I saw him and he saw me. I asked if he would like a cold one. He nodded and came to my place. He drank a power energy drink and I had a beer. We chatted and he left soon after that."

  "He was found dead in the health club this morning laying on the bench press." She watched for his reaction and saw his eyes widen and mouth opened just a fraction. "Are you suggesting his was murdered?"

  "We've every reason to think so Boyd. We're talking to all club members who were working out this morning. We also are looking for anyone who might not like him or something along those lines. When someone is murdered, the murderer has a very good reason why that person should die. There are many motives and that's why I'm here today talking to you. How did you get along with Dirk Cassidy and ever have words with him?"

  "Lord no. I barely knew the guy. I've nothing against him at all. If anyone says different then I'll confront my accuser with pointed questions. Is there anything else Stacy?"

  She could see he was a little upset being included in a group of suspects. She said, "Thanks Boyd. This is all routine and I'm not pointing any finger just yet. However, I generally get my man in the end. I also have to say this, don't leave town without me being informed. Also, as you well know, the innocent having nothing to fear."

  Out on the street, ten blocks from her office, after looking at her watch, decided that if Cathy wasn't busy they would have lunch together. Cathy picked up right away. She readily agreed to lunch and asked where. Stacy said, while walking back towards town, "I see a nice place across the street. The name is 'Big Bob's Good Eatin.'"

  "I know the place. I'll be there in ten minutes."

  Deputy Dan on a Hunt for Sparks

  Roger Sparks had a contact number, but no phone. When Dan called the contact number a voice that would have been the mark
set by a person that slurred words so bad, Dan had no idea what the person on the other end said. Dan said, "Is Roger Sparks home?"

  After hearing a five time replay of his reply, Dan got the drift that Roger was not home. He thanked the guy and hung up. Next he drove to Roger's home address. Lucky for Dan he had a GPS or maybe he had never found the place. It was in the seedier part of town on old Hwy 99 set back off the highway a half block. Dan recognized the old motel for what it was: a monthly apartment complex. A dilapidated sign held the more recent advertisement of apartments rather than an auto court.

  He drove in where the original office was. An old sign said "Office Enter Here'. Dan parked and went to the door. It was half glass and half wood. The last time the glass was cleaned was probably when the door was painted. Dan had to take a second look to see what color the paint might have been twenty years ago. He decided it must have a tomato soup color. He tried to look through the window, but it was not possible.

  Dan gave a rap on the door and walked in. The smell almost knocked him back out the door. Smell by smell he tics off: stale tobacco, ripe body odor, a large umbrella of booze mixing with some bad breath from either rotten teeth or Lord knows what. Dan waited for the smell of urine or big job, but nothing yet. The counter was the recipient of the last, God knows how many months of newspapers, empty bottles of mostly wine, old yellow magazines and one of those rubber tire ash trays with only a bit of tire showing. It was literally so full the ashes and bits of white paper could have been seen in the Cascade Mountains as if it had been part of the chain.

  Dan looked over the counter to an old wooden table and a single chair with, what he suspected, was the slurred voice who had taken the blue ribbon at the last "Slurred Word Contest.

  Dan gazed down on a snoring old man with sparse grey hair. His head lay on one outstretched arm. He was the epitome of a long time alcoholic gone to seed. Dan was afraid to wake him up. Dan's eyes opened seeing a ledger book with a hard cover on the table. He went around the counter and quietly picked it up. Flipping through the pages he found that Roger Sparks lived in number 11. Dan sat the book down and out the door he went for some deep breathes of city air.

  Walking over to unit 11 Dan saw that in the row of living units, a collection of broken down cars, trucks and some discarded furniture. He heard, babies crying and a couple of TVs competing for supremacy. A loud whack resulted in a child howling in pain made Dan hurry to unit 11. Unit 11 looked quiet compared to the rest of the motel. A brown flaky door held an old notepad by a nail. It was curled up and yellowed. A broken string that had at one time held a pencil swung with a slight breeze. Dan rapped on the door with his fist. After wait a few seconds, he rapped harder. Nothing stirred inside. From unit 10 the door swung open and a youngish woman with a toddler resting on her thrust out hip said, "He's not here. Hasn't been for a few days now."

  "Is that usual for him to be away for a few days at a time," asked Dan.

  "Yeah. He's some druggy friends he hangs out with."

  "When was the last time you saw him?"

  "Who, by the way wants to know," asked the stringy haired woman who appeared to have almost given up on life itself. Dan wondered when the last time she'd used a bar of soap. The kid in diapers had snot running down his nose and seemed to enjoy licking it off with is little pink tongue.

  "I'm a deputy US Marshall looking for Roger Sparks to ask some questions of a sensitive nature. Here's my card and if he shows up, call if you can please. By the way, does he have a car or some form of transportation?"

  "Lately he's been driving some old blue imported truck, but far be it from me to tell you what brand it is."

  Dan nodded with a smile and hurried back to his SUV as if the plague was on its way.

  He drove back to the office and would feel much better being among the more fortunate ones. Indeed he felt sorry for some of the less fortunate who struggled on a daily basis. Dan did not mind at all if a woman that he had just left made good use of the welfare dollars that came in. However, as all knew, abuse of the system was rampant, but the social services were slowly getting better and better.

  Emma was waiting for Dan to have lunch with. Sharon had an appointment so she was stuck at the desk. It seemed to Emma she could not eat enough for the two of them. It was not like she was really hungry, but the idea of it drove her to shovel any and all edibles into her mouth. She had no favorites, only food. She was just about to call him when he walked through the door looking kind of down in the mouth.

  "Hey Dan want some lunch," Emma asked pretending she was full of happiness.

  "I'm not so hungry after experiencing the very bottom of our social structure. I went looking for Roger Sparks and found the worst dump I've ever witnessed. Talk about squalor and snot nose kids. Makes me shudder recalling it. How about a pizza?"

  "Fine by me. I'll order and call you when it's here. Sharon is out for a while so I'm on the desk."

  Double Indemnity

  Ben found Shawn Little an affable kind of guy. With a warm firm handshake, he offered a comfortable chair at a table with seating for four. Coffee was served and the weather talk out of the way, Ben asked, "Mr. Little, …………." "Call me Shawn please. As you can see I'm not so little."

  "Call me Ben Shawn. Anyway, You're probably wondering why I'm really here this morning. Well some bad news about one of your fellow health club members. He was murdered around 7 am or so this morning." Ben let that sink in watching closely his reaction to the news. All Ben saw was a small frown on his cherubic face.

  "That's quite a shock Ben. Who was it anyway," asked a curious Shawn with a slight twist of the neck when asking.

  "Dirk Cassiday. He was found with a set of bar bells resting across his neck. It appears somebody dropped over a hundred pounds onto his throat."

  "Jesus that is horrible. I saw him this morning, but even though we live in the same complex we're not all that friendly with each other. He's a bit of a fanatic bulking up and I'm just an overweight slob trying to keep fit."

  "What specifically can you tell me about Dirk Shawn. For example, having seen him with other residents, strangers coming or going, girlfriends, things like that."

  "I've not seen any girls at all. He's pretty quiet kind of guy. I've seen a time or two a red corvette come in and a fellow power lifter visit him. I'm sure you'll check with Felix Warner in C-21. I've seen the two of them chatting once in awhile."

  "Do you live alone Shawn," asked Ben.

  "I'm single now Ben. I'm recuperating from my first marriage. Lucky for me and for her too we didn't have any kids. I'll be honest with you and say I've had a 'lady of the night' over a time or two just to take the edge off, if you know what I mean," Shawn said sitting back looking a bit smug.

  "Thanks and here's my card Shawn," as he ignored the 'if you know…. comment."

  Regroup Time

  At 'Big Bob's Good Eatin' Stacy and Cathy were snuggled into a rather tight booth for two. The place was packed and they were lucky to have any place to sit without a long wait. Cathy said, "Anything developments yet on the homicide?"

  "Not much really. We need to find a Felix Warner who was seen with the vic this am, but seems to have disappeared. He called in sick and Ben couldn't raise him at his residence. I interviewed a Boyd Riggins who is also a club member who was there earlier, but left before I came. Nothing much really."

  "I wonder about that clean up weirdo who you said lurks around hoping to catch a glimpse. He sure looked guilty this morning."

  "Dan is tracking him down as he left the club for lunch, but leaving for lunch at 9:30 is a bit early even in Rory's book," said a eyelid closing reference to a former, if it really was former, man friend.

  "Stacy, ever since Christmas you've been dropping Rory remarks on more than one occasion. I think you've the hots for him again?"

  "We had a good time in Bandon over Christmas. For some reason my libido was peaking around that time. And after a few days, he never seemed to cling to me like h
e used to. He's maturing Cathy and I'm liking it a lot."

  "My guy is really nice and good with the kids, but he is sort of lacking in the making love department. He's one of those guys who can take it or leave it. I do my best as I've always been a little hot to trot kind of girl. I don't see it getting any better, but we seem to do great otherwise."

  Lunch came and both had the special baked salmon and it was delicious. Both left the fine restaurant happy and quite satisfied. Cathy dropped off Stacy at her office with a call me later holler. Stacy waved and went in to find long faces with little to talk about.

  Stacy asked Dan, Ben, Emma and Sharon to join her in her office. Without any preamble, standing at the white board, she gave her report on the banker Boyd Riggins. "He's not friends with Dirk, but on occasion helps spot for him. He did see him this morning, but says he never talked to him. At this point he's not on our prime list. Okay Dan what have to say about the voyeur Roger Sparks?"

  Dan let out a lungful of breath and said, "First off I never saw him. I went to his place where he lives and the neighbor told me he hasn't been home for a few days. She went on to say he hangs out with some druggie friends crashing at their place. I think we need to talk further with Pete Poncy about Roger Sparks."

  "Ben what information on the life insurance guy?"

  "Shawn Little is a friendly salesman. He should genuine shock upon hearing Dirk Cassiday was murdered this morning. The only nugget of news was that on more than one occasion he saw a red corvette visit Dirk. Shawn said the guy looked like Dirk: a power lifter personified. As for Shawn himself, he rarely had any conversation with the victim. I'd put him down a step or two from prime." Stacy did just that and then went to the table to join the group. Sharon was taking notes as well as Emma. A report by Emma would be sent to Connie back east at the end of the day.