by Mike Markel
“Which doesn’t tell us much either way, right?”
“Right,” I said. “If he’s working for her here and in Maui, she could say she was calling him to see how he’s doing in Maui.”
“Anything interesting in her financials?” Ryan said.
“Yeah, a bull’s-eye on that one,” I said. “She was withdrawing five thousand a month, cash, from a private account.”
“Which is exactly what Hagerty was depositing, right?”
“Exactly,” I said.
“What’s she paying him for? And why in cash?” Ryan said.
I said, “We’ll, those are good questions, Ryan. Want to see how the rich and famous live?”
“I’ll set it up,” Ryan said. He tried Dolores Weston’s office. “She’s probably not there since the legislature doesn’t convene till January.” He let it ring, then left a message asking to speak with her. Next he tried her home. She wasn’t there, but he left a message with the housekeeper, asking her to call when she got in.
Twenty minutes later, Dolores Weston phoned to tell us how on the advice of her attorney she would have no comment on the ludicrous allegation that she was involved in the death of her husband. Ryan assured her we understood that but that we were interested in talking with her about her relationship with Arlen Hagerty. We arranged to meet her at her home in fifteen minutes.
“Do you know where this place is?” I said as we got into a cruiser.
“She told me to stay on Harrison, as far as you can go.”
We drove north on Harrison out of town toward the foothills, past the fancy developments with names like Ravensmere and Bryn Arden. The houses gave way to meadows. “You sure you got that right: all the way out on Harrison?”
“That’s what she told me,” Ryan said. We were on a one-lane dirt and gravel road, nothing around us but prairie and rolling hillside. “There it is,” he said, pointing to the red-sided barn, big enough for at least a dozen stalls. Next to the barn was the paddock, enclosed by a gleaming three-rail white fence. The paddock was covered in grass. Irrigation heads, surrounded by tires, dotted the expanse. Seven horses were eating grass and hay. A mare was walking lazily around the paddock, her colt trotting beside her. A young man and a young woman were sitting on the fence, talking. “Look at that, will you? It must be a couple of acres.”
“What kind of horses are they, do you know?”
“The expensive kind. Three of them are Arabian, four are quarter horses. They’re beauties, every one of them.”
“Give me a number.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Can’t tell without seeing their papers, but I’d guess the quarter horses go for ten or twenty thousand each. The Arabians, they could be a hundred thousand each. Sky’s the limit with them, really.”
“Good, I just wanted to know how much to dislike Dolores Weston.”
“Well, if it’s a question of money, you should hate her,” he said, pointing to her house.
With the big red barn and the bright fence, I hadn’t even noticed the estate tucked into the hillside. It was a flat-roofed modern building made up of rectangles dominated by horizontal expanses of warm Montana stone, ash, and huge floor-to-ceiling windows that mirrored the sky and the sun. Cantilevered decks surrounded the three sides I could see.
We drove up the driveway covered in pavers set in a herringbone pattern. We got out of the car and crossed the sandstone steps to the main entryway. I pressed the buzzer next to the ten-foot tall double doors. A moment later a uniformed Hispanic woman opened one of the doors.
“Detectives Seagate and Miner to see Dolores Weston.”
“I’ll see if Senator Weston is available. Please come in.” She turned and retreated into the house.
Ryan and I walked into the foyer. I said, “You said she’d see us, right?”
“Yeah, she told me so herself on the phone.”
“So what’s with the ‘see if she’s available’ crap?”
“That’s how important people talk, Karen. Haven’t you heard it in movies? Fifteen minutes ago, she thought she’d be available. Now she might not be available. If she can’t see us, that’s our problem, not hers.”
“Like something so important happened in the last fifteen minutes she’s gonna tell two cops to take a hike?”
“Karen, you know Senator Weston is rich. If you can’t understand how that makes her more important than a couple of cops, you’re never going to get anywhere in life.”
“Yeah, well, I think that ship’s already sailed,” I said. A moment later, Dolores Weston emerged from inside. We knew she was close to sixty, but she looked barely forty. Her dark hair was sleek, cut stylishly short. Her wide set eyes framed a long, graceful nose. Her berry-shaded lipstick picked up the cranberry of her cashmere sweater and complemented the charcoal wool slacks.
“Detectives,” she said, extending her hand and smiling broadly, giving us an opportunity to appreciate the wonderful mixture of two of God’s most important blessings: physical beauty and old money. “Dolores Weston. You must be Detective Seagate and Detective Miner. Please come in,” she said, leading us in.
Why, this is going to be simply a delight. “Senator Weston,” I said, “let me say how sorry we are about the loss of your husband.”
“Thank you very much, Detective,” she said. “You know, James and I worked on this house together—it’s the only one of our places … When I look around this beautiful house, I see him everywhere. I still can’t believe he’s gone.” She paused, but only for a second. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.
“This is the great room,” she said, her eyes sparkling again. It was like she was done thinking about her dead husband. Now it was time to show us the house. “I just adore this view,” she said, gesturing through the wall of glass to the prairie stretching out to the foothills that touched the sky.
Ryan picked up on her shifting gears. He said, “This is a beautiful home, Senator. I can’t help but notice how the interior colors mirror the earth tones.”
“I’m so glad you saw that, Detective. My late husband and I wanted to merge the inside and the outside so seamlessly you momentarily forgot whether you were inside or outside. That’s why we settled on the natural palette: the leather, the stone columns in the corners, the fireplace, the reclaimed beams, the tiles—everything.”
“Well, you’ve certainly achieved that,” he said. “It’s simply magnificent.”
“Let me show one other thing, Detective,” she said, bestowing a broad smile on Ryan, who seemed to be the one worthy of her attention. “Step over here for a moment,” she said, gently guiding his elbow. “Look that way,” she said. He smiled, turning obediently in anticipation of another enchanting surprise. “We just didn’t want the kitchen to look like a kitchen when you’re standing in the great room. Do you know what I mean?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he said as he walked up to the entryway. “Are those zinc counters?”
“Yes, they are,” she said, clearly impressed. “And the cabinets are wenge-wood.”
“Do you mind?” he said, asking permission to enter the kitchen. He shook his head in wonder at the magnificence. “And the white bronze inlays …” He was rendered speechless by her impeccable taste.
Dolores Weston turned to me. At the moment I was considering which earth-toned surface would be highlighted most effectively when I blew lunch, which could occur any moment now. “Your detective is simply priceless, Detective Seagate.”
“He came out top of his class in interiors at the academy,” I said.
“You kid, of course, but it is so rare to find a young gentleman who notices the details.”
“We’re awfully proud of him,” I said.
“Well, I realize you didn’t stop by to look at my lodge,” Dolores Weston said.
“Unfortunately, no,” I said.
Dolores Weston led us back out to the great room, her low heels clicking on the flagstone. “Please take a seat, Detectives,” she said, g
esturing to an oversized cream Scandinavian leather couch as she settled into a matching loveseat across from us.
“Your name came up in the investigation of the murder of Arlen Hagerty.”
“Oh, that was such a tragedy,” Dolores Weston said, shaking her head.
“It certainly was, Senator,” I said. “Can you tell us how well you knew him?”
“I can’t say we were close friends, but I’ve always been an admirer of his organization. I feel they do tremendously valuable work. In fact, I asked him for Soul Savers’ support for my Senate candidacy.”
“And he did support you, is that correct?”
“Yes, I am happy to say he did.” She smiled, turning the wattage down a little, given that he was murdered a few days ago.
“Can you help us understand your relationship with Henley Pharmaceuticals?” I said.
She looked a little surprised, but she recovered quickly. “Henley is a firm based in New Jersey. They are considering building a facility somewhere in this region. I’m hoping to convince them to build right here in Rawlings.”
“How are you trying to do that?”
“You may remember that last year the legislature passed—and the Governor signed—legislation offering tax breaks to out-of-state companies that would set up shop in Montana and employ more than one hundred people. I think this would be just a wonderful boost for our economy. There would be jobs for the semi-skilled, university-trained, everyone. There would be tremendous opportunities for consulting for the university faculty in science and business. It would be win-win, all around.”
Ryan said, “Can I just get back to Arlen Hagerty for a moment?”
“Of course,” Dolores Weston said, smiling and turning to him.
“When did you last speak with him? Do you remember?”
“Let me think,” she said, her brow furrowed, her index finger on her chin. “Well, I know we spoke right before the election. I was thanking him for the support from Soul Savers. That’s the most recent I can remember.”
Ryan pulled the sheet with the phone records out of a folder. “That’s odd, because I’m seeing a phone call from here to his hotel room Tuesday afternoon.”
“Oh, Detective, yes. Yes, we did speak. I thought you were asking about when I last saw him. Yes, we did speak.”
“Can you tell us the subject of your conversation?” I said.
Dolores Weston looked flustered, as if she was deciding whether to tell me it was none of my business. “Well, this and that,” she said, pausing. “I thanked him for the support during the election—”
“You thanked him again?” I said.
“Well, yes. I see nothing wrong with that.”
“Me, neither,” I said. “It’s good to be polite. Any other subjects?”
“I’m not sure, Detective. It was a brief call.”
I said to Ryan, “Do you have the length of the call?”
“Nineteen minutes and forty-two seconds, it says here.”
“Let me ask it this way, Senator,” I said. “Was Henley Pharmaceuticals one of the subjects?”
“Detective, I cannot remember with any specificity. It might have been. I know only that I considered Mr. Hagerty an important colleague and supporter of conservative values.”
Ryan said, “Senator, have you ever given money to support Soul Savers?”
“As a matter of fact, I have been a supporter for some time.”
“Do you know how much money you have contributed?” he said.
“No, I do not.”
“Is it five thousand dollars a month?”
“Really, Detective, I don’t see how my private donations to a charitable organization are any of … relate in any way to your investigation.”
I said, “Well, Senator Weston, we want to thank you very much for sharing your time with us. We hope we don’t have to disturb you again. And again, our condolences for your loss.”
“Thank you, Detective,” she said, rising and standing very tall. “And Detective Miner, a pleasure to speak with you, as well.” She offered her campaign-poster smile and led us out to the tall front doors.
Back in the car, I said, “Nice question about the five thousand bucks.”
“What do you think the chances are she was paying him off?”
“Based on the look she gave us, I’d say a hundred percent,” I said.
“Sampling error?”
“Zero percent.”
“Let’s say it’s her five K Hagerty was depositing, why is she giving it in cash?” Ryan said.
“You answer that one,” I said, “and I think you’ve got the motive.”
“If she’s just donating to his organization, she’d give it to the organization, not him, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “And it’d be in a check, so she could declare it on her taxes.”
“That’s what I thought. I thought she’d be smarter than that.”
“Why, ’cause she’s rich enough to have a ‘great room’?”
“Well, yeah, and a zinc countertop, and wenge-wood cabinets,” Ryan said.
“What the hell is wenge-wood, anyway …” I paused, holding up a finger as if I had just had an important insight. “Wait a second, I just realized something: I don’t give a shit.”
The pampered horses receding in the rear-view mirror, we headed eight or ten rungs down the socioeconomic ladder to our grey steel desks in the tan-brick police headquarters. “We better go check in with the Chief,” I said. Ryan nodded.
At his office, we were greeted by an icy “Yes?” from Helen Glenning.
“We need to see the chief. It’s important.”
“I’ll see if he’s available.” She hit the intercom button. “Detectives Miner and Seagate, Chief.”
As we waited for the chief’s decision whether or not to allow us entry into the inner sanctum, Ryan whispered to me, “Notice I get top billing?”
“Gee,” I said, “I hope this doesn’t mean he likes you more than he likes me.”
Helen Glenning waved us in. The chief kept staring at his screen for a long moment. Then he looked up at Ryan.
Ryan said, “Chief, we wanted to tell you where we are on the Hagerty case.” He nodded for Ryan to proceed. “We interviewed Dolores Weston.”
“Get anything linking her husband and the Hagerty murder?”
“No,” I said. “She made it clear she wasn’t gonna get into her husband’s death. And she’s right. From what we know right now, if it was murder, it occurred in Maui, not here. Until it’s established she conspired with the doper here in our jurisdiction, there’s no case in Montana.”
The chief looked like he wanted to get out of his chair and just smack me. But since he didn’t say anything, I could tell he knew I was right. After a long moment he said, “You get anything off the phones and financials?”
“Nothing that helps with the husband—”
“Miner, you agree with Seagate?”
“Absolutely, Chief,” Ryan said.
The chief was a real son of a bitch, asking the junior detective if he agreed with me. I wasn’t going to let him cut me out. “Like I was saying, there was nothing that helps us with her husband getting killed. But there’s a clear connection with the Hagerty murder. She was withdrawing five thousand a month, cash, and Hagerty was depositing five thousand a month, cash, into a private account. When we asked Weston about it, she got evasive.”
“Why would she be paying him off?”
“We’re not sure,” Ryan said. “She said she solicited Soul Savers’ support during the election, but that doesn’t add up because she wouldn’t be using cash, and she wouldn’t be paying him to a private account.”
“So give me another explanation.”
“We’re trying to track down another angle,” I said. “Weston wants to get this pharmaceutical company, Henley, to build a facility here. We think there might be something to that.”
“What’s that something?”
“We’re not sur
e, Chief,” I said, “but we want to find out a little more about a new biology professor at the university who might be linked to the pharmaceutical. It all might lead back to Dolores Weston.”
“I just got a call from Senator Weston.”
I said, “That didn’t take long.”
The chief looked at me and said, “She said you accused her of paying off Hagerty.”
“Chief,” Ryan said, “nobody accused her of that, or of anything else. That was my line of questioning. I asked her if she supported Soul Savers. She said yes. I just asked her if she was giving them five thousand a month. That’s when she got all flustered. We think we hit a nerve.”
“All right,” the chief said, “but I want you to connect the dots on the Weston murder and Hagerty.”
“Yeah, we got that,” I said.
* * *
Ryan said, “How do you want to go at Lakshmi Something?”
“Let’s see what the Biology chair says about her first. Then we’ll be in a better position if we decide to talk to her.”
Ryan found the chair’s number from the university site and called him. He invited us over. On the drive to the university, Ryan said, “I was sorry to hear about that girl in the accident. She going to be okay?” It had led the morning news.
“Don’t know yet.”
“I’m really sorry it happened,” he said.
“Yeah, me too.” I kept my eyes on the road. “Me too.” I was hoping he wouldn’t see me tearing up, but I think he did. He didn’t say anything else on the drive over.
We entered the Life Sciences Building, on the western corner of the campus. This was the corner the university had set aside for new construction for the sciences and engineering. But with the economy tight, the state hadn’t yet started construction. So the Life Sciences were stuck in their 1960’s building, with its boring functionality. The classrooms were old style, with the chairs bolted into the amphitheatre pattern. The Biology Department was on the second floor. A young man greeted us in the office and led us back to Marty Stenhouser’s office.
“Dr. Stenhouser, I’m Detective Karen Seagate, this is my partner, Detective Ryan Miner. Thanks for making the time to see us.”