Return to Murder

by John Osipowicz

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  It is indeed a small world, Todd mused as he tucked himself underneath the satin sheets in Carrie’s spare bedroom. The debate he was having with himself was whether to tell her that her boss could be involved in this murder case. He decided not to say anything. Carrie did not seem to have much allegiance to the man, but she might inadvertently let something slip. At the moment Todd felt secrecy was the best alternative.

  The next morning he left Carrie’s condo saying he had to now do his police work in the area. “I don’t really want to know anything about the mayhem and murder part of your life,” Carrie said. “Keep me uninformed.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not telling you anything about this.”

  It was easy to find information about Nathan Brumfield on the internet. It seemed around Chicago he was a local celebrity. Most of the articles downplayed his run ins with the police. Not one article mentioned the two illegal business charges against him that were eventually dropped. There was a picture of his North Shore home that sprawled on twenty acres with the backyard leading to Lake Michigan. Todd’s GPS got him there down Sheridan Drive and into Kenilworth within an hour from downtown.

  The photo hadn’t done the house justice. The stone driveway swung around to the back of the house and the triple garage. There was the lake a hefty football throw away. Todd counted the windows across the top: seventeen. The screened-in porch that overlooked the water went the entire length of the house. The stonework looked old but was set up to look that way. One of the articles said the house had been built only three years ago. Brumfield had bought a nine million dollar property and tore down the existing house to the ground to build his new one. There looked to be third floor space with a crown-like structure up there for the king who live here.

  Todd rang the front chimes. Appearing at the twelve foot high doorway was a man who almost dwarfed the opening. Staring straight ahead, Todd was looking at his massive chest. Up higher the goliath had shoulders straight across like a curtain rod. “Mr. Brumfield is not home,” he said in a voice sounding like it was coming from a tunnel.

  “Where might I find him?” Todd asked.

  “That information is private.” He was about to shut the door, when a voice came from inside. The giant turned, allowing the door to swing fully open.

  “Hagar, are you ready, I’m already late for the salon.”

  Todd for a moment had a full view of the winding staircase that would have done Gone with the Wind proud. Standing at the foot of it was an older lady, a bit chunky, but wearing a smart pants suit and high heels as a body disguise. The jewelry she had on glittered in the lights.

  “Mrs. Brumfield, it’ll be just a minute,” said the door ogre. The door was shut in Todd’s face without another word.

  Todd retreated back to his car, but waited in it down the road where he could still see the house. Five minutes later, one of the garage doors lifted up revealing a large black Cadillac SUV. Todd followed the car three miles to Au Clair de la Lune in downtown Skokie. Todd’s translation app on his Smart Phone told him the words in English meant, by the light of the moon. He didn’t know quite how that related to hair styling, but possibly it suggested a romantic setting for the ladies’ imaginations to hope for. Mrs. Brumfield was dropped off, showing her weight now as she clomped into the salon in those heels. Hagar the Horrible found a spot a block away to wait for her.

  Todd didn’t want to chance walking into the front of the shop. He was in luck. There was a back entrance opening up on a busy thoroughfare. It probably was the normal front entrance; it seemed Hagar wanted to avoid the traffic on that one-way street. For sure, Todd wanted to avoid Hagar.

  Inside were women having their hair washed and others sitting at dryers. Two women were having their nails done. Todd had waited almost a half hour in the car to have Mrs. Brumfield process her beauty routine. Her hair was now being worked on by a sleek man with tight bell-bottom jeans hovering over her. Todd thought the haircut made her face look fat and emphasized her large nose, but he was not about to make those comments.

  He approached just as the man was giving the hair a last ruffling. Todd knew the lady’s first name from the internet articles. He thought familiarity might disarm her a bit and get her talking. “Miranda, so good to see you again,” he said with what he hoped was a winning smile.

  “Uh. . .yes, you, too. I don’t seem to remember--.”

  “The fund raiser at the downtown Hilton.”

  “Of course. I meet a lot of people. I don’t even remember your name.”

  “Jacques. Jacques Milstein. I’ve worked with your husband on the hospital finance project (more internet information).”

  “Yes, Nathan was glad to lend his name—and his money—to that effort.”

  “I’m in a quandary at the moment, Miranda. My business has taken a downward turn, and I need to talk to Nathan about new marketing strategy. I’m losing a lot of dollars each day. Maybe you saw me at your house not even an hour ago.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Your assistant at the door didn’t seem eager to give me information.”

  “Assistant, that’s a laugh. Hagar is a former Special Forces commando who’s paid to keep Nathan and I protected. The guy wears a Kevlar vest, and carries a weapon at all times. For him it’s always war-time.”

  “It’s good I didn’t try to pressure him.”

  “The last person who did ended up with a broken arm.”

  “Back at your house, I heard what you said on the stairs, and I apologize for following you here, but my business is really suffering. I desperately need to talk to Nathan.”

  “Nathan is in one of his periods where he isolates himself for a week or two. He always says the market will take care of itself. He has so many clients he can let one go every now and then. I don’t feel as cold-hearted as he does. You can find him at his hunting cabin in Northern Wisconsin. He took me up there once a few years ago to show me. It’s over a six hour boring drive, and it’s in the middle of nowhere. Rhinelander is the nearest town. It was the only time I went. Nathan takes his private plane up there now. He had a landing strip carved out at the back of the cabin.”

  “I’ll have to drive,” Todd said. “I thought I might eventually get a private plane myself but the way my business has been faltering I’ll be lucky to have enough buy gas on the road up there.”

  Nathan made me record the directions on my Smart Phone, in case of a business emergency or I ever want to come up and see him. There’s no phone in the cabin, and he doesn’t take his cell with him. No chance of me ever visiting him unless I want to watch bears walk around the cabin like I did the only time I was up there.” She took out her phone. “I’ll write down the directions.”

  “I so appreciate this Miranda.”

  “Listen, if this means the guy has to come home sooner at least I’ll get to see him every now and then. Like I said, I never go up to the cabin. The killing of any animal I think is gross. Here are the directions. She handed him a page from her tiny notebook. At the top of the page was a drawing of a frog on a lily-pad. The words beneath read, Before I croak here’s a note.

  “Thanks again, Miranda.” Todd snuck out the back/front way. As he was closing the door, he caught a glimpse of Hagar coming in through the other way. Whew, that was close. Hagar could probably crunch half of Todd’s bones.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  A totally isolated spot in the northern Wisconsin woods, out of communication with everyone. To Todd it seemed the perfect spot for a tryst, away from the watchful eyes of a wife. Possibly Brumfield had been taking Nancy there—and probably other women—for years. Some of the internet articles had hinted at the man being a womanizer. It might be a wasted drive, but Todd had no other clue as to where Nancy might be.

  It was nightfall before Todd arrived within maybe fifteen miles of the cabin. By Miranda’s directions, he still had a couple more side roads to traverse, but it was now totally dark. He decided
to stay overnight in Rhinelander. Right off the highway he saw a logwood lodge in the distance. With superhuman cleverness someone had named it The Lodge. He checked in, then drove into the town for food.

  Grace’s Diner wasn’t big on décor or size with the five counter stools and four tables, but the food was excellent. Or maybe it was because this was Todd’s first meal today. He hadn’t wanted Carrie to bother with breakfast since she had to be at work fairly early. He sat at the counter to overhear a couple locals talking about the big fish one of them had caught. Living in Philly much of his life, Todd wasn’t too aware of how other people lived.

  Back in his hotel room, maybe it was the smell of the pine log furniture, or Todd’s anticipation at what he might face the next day, but he did not sleep well. There was an ample breakfast at the lodge, and Todd filled his face with calories. He felt he would need all the energy he could muster.

  On the road for fifteen minutes Todd came upon a huge sign that said, PRIVATE PROPERTY—KEEP OUT! The next thing he saw was the airplane runway Brumfield had built. It was by the side of a long woods, and looked as well-built as one in a big city. It had to take many bucks to construct that, but if good old Nathan was using this cabin for his trysts, it would be well-worth it for him. It was a place where Miranda couldn’t touch him.

  To Todd’s disappointment there was no plane on the runway. However, he did see smoke coming out of the cabin chimney. He parked his car down the road and was about to walk toward the building when out of the corner of his eye near the far edge of the woods he saw a man in a checkered shirt striding up to the cabin from the other direction. The man was carrying a rifle. On the internet Todd had seen pictures of Nathan. This man was younger and sturdier looking than Brumfield, probably a guard for the property.

  The checkered shirt disappeared into the cabin, but it reappeared five minutes later as the man began to stroll now toward where Todd was crouched behind a tree. Todd went further into the woods and covered himself with some brush. Lying face down, smelling the earth, Todd could now hear whistling. It sounded like an old country song, The Farmer in the Dell.

  The whistling passed over where Todd was lying, and receded toward the back part of the woods. When Todd could hear the sound no longer he peeked his head up to see the broad back of the man just about out of the back part of the woods. It looked as if he was going to make a complete circle of the perimeter for his guard duty.

  When Todd had driven up, he saw where the property sloped down to a stream. For at least five minutes the whistler would not be able to see the cabin before he made the turn back to it. This was Todd’s chance. He sprinted to the building and flung open the door. There was Nancy lying on the bed in her underclothes.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, Todd. How the hell did you ever find me?”

  “That isn’t important. I have to get you out of here.”

  “That’s a fine idea, but where exactly are we going to go?”

  “As far away from Nathan Brumfield as we can.”

  “He can reach anywhere in the world. He showed up at my house and told me I was coming with him. I told him no, and after a couple slaps I relented. So here I am, a captive.”

  “Is that what happened when you first met Brumfield during your Tribune days?”

  “No, I was young and foolish, and I succumbed to his wealth and suave manner. He transported me all around the world. He would call in the early morning, and by the evening we would be in Paris. Then through some of the reporters at the paper I began to hear bad things about him: illegal business dealings and violence against people who opposed him. One day I left him and Chicago, and drove to somewhere remote where he wouldn’t find me. That was Calypso. However, it took only six months for him to track me down. He came to my house and practically abducted me under threat of harming me. That was the first time I saw this cabin. All this was before you arrived in town. All he wants is sex, and for an old guy he’s insatiable. He had changed from the person I once knew.”

  “How did you get back to Calypso?”

  “I made a deal with one of his bodyguards. He smuggled me out to an airport in nearby Wausau. For that action he was killed. I saw his obituary in the Chicago papers. It was made to look like an accident, but I know Nathan killed him, or had him killed.”

  “I have met Hagar.”

  “Isn’t he just a peach? This guard here at the cabin now isn’t so bad, but I’m sure everyone who works for him now knows what happens to anyone who betrays their boss. You just missed Cleon. He walks around the entire property making sure no one intrudes.”

  “I know. Luckily I saw him before I drove up. I went back and hid my car behind some bushes. I don’t think he’ll find it.”

  “There’s no place to hide inside here, Todd. Cleon will be back any minute. For his entertainment, every time he swings back around the perimeter he stops in here and leers at me. I know he would rape me, if it weren’t for the threat of death from Bromfield. That fear keeps him under control. So go.”

  “I’ll be back again after he leaves, and we’ll work out a plan.”

  “Just go.”

  Cleon’s approach to the cabin was from the back of it, so he wouldn’t be able to see Todd go out the front door. Todd had just gotten to the cover of the woods, before he saw that checkered shirt again enter the cabin. It seemed Cleon stayed longer this time. Todd hoped the guy didn’t decide to risk sex with Nancy. Todd was going to give it another minute and then charge into that cabin.

  But no, a minute later there was Cleon, ambling out the front door. Todd now knew the path the guy would take, so he merely crouched off to the side until the whistling passed. Again he ran for the cabin door. This time Nancy had a baggy shirt and jeans on. She looked clown-like. Todd couldn’t help smiling.

  “One of the ways Nathan keeps me captive is to take the rest of my clothes and keep them in the airplane. He says he likes to look at my body, so all I have is my underwear. These are Cleon’s clothes. How do you like my new look?”

  “Fabulous. The plan I thought of, Nancy, is the next time Cleon comes back in for you to entice him with that body you mentioned. I’ll wait outside so he can get all riled up and engrossed. Then I’ll come in and clobber him. I can use the butt of my gun. I don’t want to kill the guy.”

  “If he allows me to escape, he’ll be a dead man anyway. But yes, don’t kill the guy. At least give him a chance to escape from his boss.”

  “Where is Nathan, anyway?”

  “There was a crucial business deal that came up early this morning. He flew back to Chicago.”

  “His wife told me he had no cell phone here.”

  “That’s just one of the lies he’s told Miranda. He said that so she wouldn’t contact him here. “I’ll get ready, Todd, for my enticing act. I--.”

  The door opened, and there was Cleon. He pointed his rifle at the both of them. “I came back for my harmonica. Why do you have my clothes on Nancy?” He swing the rifle toward Todd. “And who the hell are you?”

  “You probably wouldn’t believe that I’m simply a Fed-Ex delivery man.”

  “Get over there the both of you on the bed. Nathan will be back soon and then we’ll deal with the both of you.”

  Nancy got on the bed, but suddenly she stood on the top of it and began taking off not only Cleon’s clothes but her own that she had underneath. As the bra came off, Cleon was mesmerized. The rifle was lowered closer to the ground. Todd was able to slide slightly to the side and then charged the hypnotized man. A straight punch to the jaw took care of Cleon.

  “There’s some rope in that drawer,” Nancy said. “Nathan likes to use it some of the times he has his way with me.”

  “Nancy, I will have to say, I was also interested in what you were doing, but then I realized why you were doing it.”

  “Good, I’m glad you finally caught on.”

  Tying Cleon up, they both had probably been so engrossed that they did not hear the sounds outside. The door op
ened again. There was the boss, Nathan Brumfield, sporting a spiffy suit, tie, and vest. He recognized the scene immediately and before Todd could grab the rifle still lying on the floor the door was slammed shut, and Nathan was on the run.

  “I’ll stay with Cleon,” Nancy said. “He’s securely tied.” She picked up the rifle. “But just in case, I can maybe shoot off some of those private parts he so wanted me to experience. Go after Nathan. Hurry.”

  Out the door, Todd saw that Brumfield was already halfway across the field to the airplane. Damn, if he had the Cleon’s long-range gun he’d might be able to wound him, but by the time he would go back inside to get the rifle, Nathan would be almost in the plane. Todd started to sprint after the man. He fired a couple of shots from his pistol but Nathan was too far away.

  Possibly because the plane was still warm from having just landed, the machine started immediately and began to taxi down the runway. Todd got next to it, but it was already accelerating and unless he wanted to pull a James Bond action and grab onto the wheels as they lifted off., he had to stop running. Also it was not a good angle to try to shoot Brumfield in the cockpit. The plane lifted off, just missing the tops of the trees, and soared into the skies.

  So close and yet so far.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  It would take Brumfield less than an hour to get back to Chicago, while it would take Nancy and Todd seven. There was no hope of apprehending the man.

  Todd was able to contact the Rhinelander police. They sent a man out too pick up Cleon. The deputy was not too sure if the aiding and abetting an abduction would be charged at Rhinelander or the checkered shirt guy would be shipped back in Chicago to be arraigned there. Todd felt that was their problem, not his. What he was able to do was contact the Chicago police Commander to put out an all-points bulletin for Nathan on the kidnapping charge. The Chief complied with their wishes only after Nancy got on the phone to describe her ordeal, and it was verified by the Rhinelander Chief. Nathan Brumfield was now a wanted man.