Class Conspiracy: A Hank Lancaster Mystery

by Ace Beckett

  “The rich are different from us,” I said.

  “True, but Tom had ticked his father off so much he really didn’t have too much in the bank, old Clyde was always tight fisted. His stinginess is legendary in this county. Even so, Tom was overpaid by the Franklin Cattle Company and misspent what little money his father had given him as a high school graduation gift. The money Clyde paid him for his twenty-first birthday also went down the drain. Tom liked to go over to Biloxi and spend time in the casinos, he liked to fancy himself as a good poker player but he wasn’t. If he lost, which he usually did, his money went to the casino’s bank account. If he was winning, which he rarely did, he didn’t know when to quit. He always overplayed his hand and Chet said they both had small trust funds that they were allowed to draw on when they were twenty-five. He invested his. Tom’s was drained within two years. But don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t have to go to the food bank for lunch but Clyde was always bitterly disappointed with his oldest son. But Clyde also held a lifetime of anger against the prosecutor who sent Tom to prison. His name was Jerry Hill and he was such a stand-up guy even his shadow wasn’t crooked.

  “He had two defendants who had committed perjury and he wasn’t going to let them get away with it. He put them on trial and got two convictions. Two years later when Hill was up for re-election Clyde Franklin bankrolled an attorney to challenge him. He gave the challenger the maximum donation allowed by law, slipped some money to him under the table and got a few high-powered endorsements for the challenger but it was one of the few times Clyde got defeated. There are five counties in the judicial circuit and Clyde may have had influence in Bay Tree County but that influence waned when it crossed county lines. Most people around here knew Jerry was an honest man and excellent state attorney and he won handily.

  “He even won Bay Tree County by a slight margin. Clyde was disappointed to say the least to hear Chet tell it, his father cursed Hill almost every day of his life. Clyde may blame that high school incident for turning Tom bad but Tom was already heading down the wrong road.”

  I frowned. “As a matter of curiosity just how much money do the Franklins have?”

  “A lot. I don’t really know all the decimal points….wait a minute. Roy Maggert did a story on Clyde about two years ago in the local paper. Roy’s the business editor there. He was two years behind me in high school and has a real head for figures. Thought he wrote a very good article that presented Clyde with his virtues and his flaws but most of his virtues were his business acumen. Many of his flaws were more of a personal nature. Let me see….” Oorndorf rubbed his chin. “Yes, Roy had to use estimates but I think he said Clyde’s fortune was thought to be at least $12 to $15 million but a more accurate figure would be from $18 to $21 million and there was an outside chance that Clyde had about $25 million in the bank.”

  “Very impressive. Wish I had his money skills.” I said. “Did you know John Kuster?”

  “Yes, we were not best friends but we got along.”

  I gave him a brief summary to the hunting trip that was the tie between the four dead individuals.

  “Kuster told a friend of what happened on that trip, he said four other people were with him. Now I have to wonder if Kuster told the whole truth. Could there have been another person in that van? That would clear up a lot of things. It would also explain how the murderer knew everyone in the group including the three people sleeping in the back. It doesn’t explain why he would kill them after twenty years but…it’s a possibility.”

  “Well, I got along with John but I never considered him to be the most honest man I ever knew. If he promised me something I wouldn’t count on it, with both small and big things. I mean I never knew him to do anything criminal. I don’t think there was any meanness in him but it was a waste of time to trust him.”

  “Know the names of any friends of Kuster? This is a hunch. Maybe another student, who was the best friend of Kuster or at least a very good friend, was also along for the ride. When Kuster had a few too many he told another friend about the trip but he might have left out one name,” I said.

  “Off the top of my head I don’t know who that could be. I wasn’t that close with John and I still know some classmates. I could ask around and maybe find someone who would know.”

  “I would appreciate that, I need to cover all the bases.”

  We chatted about baseball and football for a few minutes. He also told me if I liked Chinese food I should try the Sun and Moon restaurant located three miles west of the restaurant. I do like Chinese food so I appreciated the tip. I phoned Chet Franklin again but only got a recorded voice. I left a very polite message but said I urgently needed to talk to him.

  Ender Pelham didn’t sound all that polite on the phone but, surprisingly he did agree to talk to me. He told me I could find him at EKL Financial which was located about two miles passed the Winter Springs City Limits. It was a modern two-story facility with a lake in the back. The staff were mostly young but dressed very casually. A young woman with a silver nose ring walked me to Pelham’s office. Considering the lack of a dress code I figured he’d have long hair, tattoos and sandals and would take long pauses between words. So I was surprised by the tall, wavy dark-haired man stood up and walked around his large shiny desk to greet me. He was only in inch shorter than me, although with his dark blazer and expensive tie he dressed much better than I did. He gave me a warm smile when we shook hands.

  “I must say I am curious, Mr. Lancaster. What does a private detective want of me? I assume you know my background?”

  I figure he meant his conflict with the law and a stern state attorney.

  “Yes. I had never been so happy as when I was when I walked out of state prison. That was long ago but I still remember it. I literally counted the days. The state can give you five years for perjury. The judge was lenient because it was my first – and for that matter has been my only offense – and gave me two years. But I got time off for good behavior. I learned my lesson.”

  He sat down at his desk and I eased down in one of the two chairs in his office.

  ‘I’m a bit surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be in the cattle business, Mr. Pelham.”

  “Call me Ender. I discovered I’m not really a fan of cattle. Many people enjoy ranching but I turned out not to be one of them. After my father passed away I sold the ranch. I was his only child. I might have wanted to get rid of all the relics of the past. Start a new life so to speak. So went into the financial area and it’s been a very good business and very good life. Anyway, what brings you to my office Mr. Lancaster?”

  “Call me Hank.”

  “Same question, Hank.”

  I thought about getting a business card printed with the basic details of the case. Then I wouldn’t have to keep repeating myself, which I did with Pellham.

  He had green eyes and the story sparked an alert stare from them.

  “Interesting tale but I fail to see what it has to do with me.”

  “I’ just trying to find out information about van’s occupants and I’m wondering if maybe there were six people on that trip and not five.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “That I couldn’t tell you. These days I’m not a big hunter although I did go out during my high school and a few years afterward. Of the names on your list I was never friends with any of them but I do recognize one or two names from high school but never ran in the same crowds.”

  “Are you still friends with Tom Franklin?”

  He shrugged. “We say hello and are nice to one another. That’s about it. I’ve always liked Tom but we just started drifting away from one another. He always had a streak of meanness in him and I didn’t want to deal with it. He was the one who persuaded me to lie twenty years ago when our case went to trial. Tom was always the dominant one on our friendship. I did a number of things at his urging that was very stupid but I don’t blame him. I should have stood up for myself, but it wasn’t that Tom would overwhelm you with his p
ower or personality. He was an average built guy and if he tried bullying there was a limited number of guys he could bully without getting his butt kicked, but he could wheedle you without ceasing. You’d tell him no and he’d keep asking or giving you another alleged good reason for doing it. Eventually he’d win you over.” Pelham shook his head. “I have to give Tom some benefit of the doubt because he grew up with Clyde Franklin as a father, which wouldn’t have been a pleasant experience.”

  “I understand you had a disagreement with Clyde and the Franklin family?”

  Pelham’s voice sounded like an Arctic wind, the temperature dropped thirty degrees in the office.

  “Disagreement is an extremely diplomatic way of phrasing it. Yes, you are correct and I don’t talk about it. It’s too painful and Clyde contributed to my father’s early death. He did not die with a peaceful heart but with bitterness.” He shook his head. “I’ve said enough and I assumed you are done with your questions. Have a good day, Mr. Lancaster.”

  It was a curt, cold dismissal, although there was also finality to it so I nodded and left his office without another word.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Caveman Jones was unpredictable but on a scale of one to a 100 on computer trickery, cunning, expertise and hacking he rated a 99.9. The finest high-tech computer geek I have ever met and, in the words of an attendee at a Science Fiction, Fantasy and AI convention “he doesn’t even smell bad.”

  To the best of my knowledge Caveman did have regular bathing habits but did have a few idiosyncrasies. He was as superstitious as a baseball player, had a “lucky” rabbit foot he kept touching. But knowing just how the alleged lucky foot was made I could assure folks that no rabbits were harmed during the manufacture of the item. One of Caveman’s quirks was he didn’t always answer his phone, and usually didn’t reply to messages for hours or days or weeks. Fortunately, I had his second number which he only gave to treasured clients or people he played chess with. Caveman enjoyed chess but didn’t have many players who could compete with him. Thankfully, I could. I usually lost the game but I did make it interesting for him.

  I called him and, surprisingly enough, he returned my call within thirty minutes.

  “Hank, what are you doing over in Bay Tree County. There’s not much going on over there. I just took home a five-figure sum from the casinos down on Okeechobee County. Had a great time. You know how many gorgeous women are down there? Some of those dealers look like beauty queens and the casino uniforms are somewhat skimpy. Guess the owners want them to distract all the high rollers. They almost distracted me.”

  “I’m glad you won a lot of money.”

  “That’s fun. Can’t go too often though, they will just get suspicious and kick me out. For people who extol the virtues of cards they don’t like it when the cards and dice don’t go their way.”

  “Yes, isn’t it a shame? Some people just have no sportsmanship at all.”

  “So, need something done, Hank.”

  “Caveman, with your skills I assume you can hack banks, or businesses or personal financial accounts.”

  “Of course. Can a fish swim in water? Do rattlesnakes hiss? Does a bear---well, you get the message. I can and with relative ease. Governments agencies are easy too. All governments. You want the KGB hacked? Give me a few weeks and you’ll have all of Putin’s secrets.”

  “No, this does not involve international intrigue.”

  “A financial account you want hacked?”

  “Yes, a couple of financial accounts. I want to gain valuable information in a murder case.”

  “Just say the word. Just give me the name of the business, the name of the individual and any other bits of information that might relevant and tell me what you want to know. In a few days I’ll get back to you. If you suspect something is illegal, tell me what you suspect and I’ll look for and find out if your suspicions are correct. Er…and we are working for the good guys aren’t we?”

  “Yes, we are on the side of justice and truth,” I said.

  “Fine. Let’s go. Send me an e-mail with the details and if you want anything specific in any account list it. You know my routine, just follow it and I’ll get you some answers.”

  “Caveman, you do have a few oddities but you’re a gentleman and a scholar and, apparently, a skilled gambler.”

  He laughed. “I’ll buy that. Don’t necessarily believe it but I’ll buy it.”

  “Thanks, you have my deep appreciation. I have a hunch about who killed three people. I think you can confirm whether my hunch is true.”

  “I’ll get back to you soon.”

  I spent thirty minutes working on the e-mail to Caveman. I laid out specific points. However, Caveman could be very creative in his assignments. He had alluded that the CIA has used him from time to time then clammed up. I figured the agency had used him for a few assignments but requested he not talk about it.

  If my hunch was correct….

  Mary Ann Fitzgerald, another classmate of Stephen Bates, had sparkling brown and hair that tumbled down over her shoulders. She had thankfully replied to the ad. She made the late comic Jerry Lewis seem calm and reserved. We meet at the motel restaurant. She had a salad and I had the large bowl of clam chowder and, oh boy, she was a fast talker, instilling a gaiety between all the syllables and consonants. If science could have bottled her, they would have a cure for depression.

  “If you’re looking for a best friend of John Kuster it would be me, Hank. We started going together the beginning of our senior year. Stayed together four, almost five years but never married. It was a wild ride, like being on a rollercoaster every day. Years later I can say we never should have spent a day together. We were not compatible, we were combustible.”

  “But you certainly don’t seem bitter about the experience.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not. I wouldn’t have missed a day of it but I also realize we should not have gone out on the first date much less the second.” She paused talking to swallow some of her salad. “We are both Type-A, full NASCAR individuals. Plus back then I had a bit of a temper which thankfully I’ve gotten control of. John and I not only butted heads I almost caved his head in. He’d pick up antiques from time to time and he had an antique vase, I think it was. But the thing was heavy, it must of weighed ten pounds. During one of our fiery disagreements I angrily picked it up and slammed it on his forehead and John went down like sack of wet cement. I was frantic. I called the EMTs and everyone else I could think of. John was out. He revived at the emergency room. He had a mild concussion but was fine. In two days he was back to normal and we had a few more wild sessions before we separated. It was that type of wild relationship. It lasted longer than I think our friends expected. I think we quit when we thought we might accidently do serious injury to one another, which almost happened when I clubbed him with the antique. … But one thing was strange. I expected him to be really angry when he woke up. But for about ten minutes he just stared at the ceiling and said, ‘Maybe I deserved it.’ I figured it was the meds. After ten minutes he was back to his old self.” She chuckled. “Frankly, I don’t think I would change a thing but I’m also glad my marriage is a bit tamer.” She drank some of her tea. “Sorry, I got onto a nostalgia kick. But I’m not sure what I can tell you about John. It must have been seventeen years ago when we split. For a couple a years I didn’t see him. We both lived in Winter Springs and bumped into one another at times and were always very friendly. I wished him well and I know he wished me well. Then for a long time I didn’t see him and asked a mutual friend and was told he had left the state.”

  I swallowed some of the clam chowder, which was very good. “Mary Ann, who was John’s closest male friend?”

  “Think that might have been Carl Whitfield. Carl was over a great deal of the time when John and I were together. They both enjoyed boating and fishing and Carl had a good-sized boat that they often went out on. They shared a liking for a lot of things. They hunted a bit and both liked football.
They were both Miami Dolphins fans if I remember correctly.”

  “Is Carl Whitfield still in town?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Carl’s in real estate and it’s easy to find. The office is over in the Oak Plaza Commercial Building. Carl’s Real Estate. You can’t miss it.”

  “With my sense of direction I probably can but I’ll try not to. Can you think of anyone else who was good friends with John?”

  She thought for a minute, tapping her lips with her finger. “You know I not sure he was a good friend of John but they were close in a sense. That would be Adam Longquit. He’s the pastor at the Shiloh Baptist Church in town. It’s a good-sized church. I think Adam has about three hundred members. He was assistant pastor when John and I were together. John liked him and occasionally we attended services. John joked attending church wouldn’t do us any harm and might well do us some good. A few times when we were together he had a session with Adam.” She laughed. “Probably about the relationship. I think John liked and respected Adam and thought he was a man that could be trusted. He said that was a rare trait nowadays.”

  “Yes, it is. And a pastor is trusted with confidential details of a man’s life. Thank you very much, Mary Ann.”

  The Rev. Adam Longquit looked like a pastor. He wore a brown coat and a tie. He was a tall, solid man with wavy brown hair and a ready smile. His office was filled with bookshelves. Many current Christian books stood on the shelves as well the classic Christian thinkers such Aquinas and Augustine. More modern thinkers such as G. K. Chesterton and C.S. Lewis had several books on the shelf too. I also spied a book on astronomy.