by Mike Markel
“Where did they go?” I said.
“They went to campaign expenses.”
“In other words, that quarter million went to defeat the Democratic candidate, who raised about a tenth of that amount. Is that correct?”
“Detective,” she said, “candidates are permitted under Montana state law and the U.S. Constitution to spend as much of their personal funds as they wish for their campaign. It’s called free speech.”
“Oh, so those were your personal funds.”
“Yes,” Dolores Weston said. “Yes, they were.”
“Let’s move on. Arlen Hagerty was blackmailing you for the support from Soul Savers.”
“That is absurd. We reached an agreement that five thousand dollars would be forthcoming each month for his discretionary use at Soul Savers.”
“Okay,” I said, “so we agree he was putting the touch on you for five grand a month.”
“I want to go on record,” Lester Ingram said, “that we disagree most strenuously with that characterization. Those were nothing more than regular charitable gifts to Soul Savers, to enable that organization to plan effectively.”
“And Arlen Hagerty and you came to this agreement because he knew he would have a hard time selling his people on supporting Henley because they’re into stem-cell research, is that correct?”
Senator Weston whispered into Lester Ingram’s ear. He whispered into hers. She said, “No, there were never any discussions about that. Any arrangements to encourage Henley Pharmaceuticals to locate in Rawlings will be offered with the clear understanding that the company will abide by provisions expressly forbidding the company to engage in any research or manufacture of any product that could be used in human cloning or would involve the destruction of any human embryos.”
“Senator Weston,” I said, “did you kill Arlen Hagerty, or do you know who did?”
Dolores Weston’s eyes were on fire. “Detective, I did not kill Arlen Hagerty, and I do not know who did. That is the truth, and I will be willing to swear it, any time or any place.”
“Thank you. We are terminating this interview. The time is now 1:31 pm.” I switched off the recorder.
Lester Ingram and Senator Weston rose from their chairs, both looking a lot less pulled together than they were a half hour ago. “May I ask you, Detective,” Ingram said, “whether you plan to bring the financial information to the prosecutor?”
“We haven’t decided how to proceed yet.”
“Can you tell me when you plan to reach a decision?”
“Can’t really say. It depends on other information that may come to light in the course of our investigation.” I pulled a card out of my bag. “I think the important thing is, like I said, we’re trying to figure out who killed Arlen Hagerty. The sooner we can do that, the more consideration we can offer anyone who helps us in the investigation. So, if Senator Weston thinks of anything that can help us, I strongly encourage her to get in touch with us.”
“Detective,” Senator Weston said, “I’m certain you understand how damaging to my career any unfortunate publicity about my finances would be. Although I would of course be able to defend—clearly and honestly—my financial relationship with Henley Pharmaceuticals, doing so would be very costly in terms of my time.”
“You mean you wouldn’t be able to do as much of the people’s business if you had to spend time defending against the bribery charges?”
Dolores Weston chose not to respond to my choice of words. “I am simply saying I would appreciate your getting in touch with me in advance if you plan to publicize that information. I hope you understand my meaning.”
“Yes, I do. And I intend to do everything I can to determine who killed Arlen Hagerty. I hope you understand my meaning.” To Ryan, “Detective, would you mind showing our guests out.”
“Good afternoon, Detective,” Dolores Weston said as she and her attorney turned to follow Ryan out of police headquarters.
I sat back down in the empty interview room. I was pleased we had gotten Dolores Weston to concede she was taking bribes from Henley. But I wasn’t sure I had convinced Weston that if she didn’t cooperate in the investigation, I would subpoena Henley records to see whether the company was fiddling with accounting law. If Dolores Weston had a chance to think about it, she’d probably realize that was my strongest weapon: the threat to embarrass Henley and make them pull out of any deal with Weston. She was smart. She’d figure it out.
I went down the hall to the detectives’ bullpen. Ryan was sitting at his desk. The chief was sitting at mine.
“My office. Both of you. Now.” The chief stood and marched back toward his corner of the building. A couple of other detectives looked on, curious. The chief didn’t usually plant himself at a detective’s desk, which was smaller than his own. The chief strode into his office, the two of us following behind.
“Anything?” he said.
“She’s been taking bribes from Henley Pharmaceuticals. And she was paying off Hagerty for Soul Savers to keep supporting her,” I said.
“I mean, anything on killing her husband?”
“No, Chief,” I said, “We didn’t go there. We’re just working on the Hagerty case. The key is her arrangement with Henley Pharmaceuticals. If we can get her to own up to killing Hagerty and she killed her husband because he was gonna blow the whistle on the Henley bribes, we can work with Maui to get her to deal down on the charges. But we gotta start with what we’ve got, which is the bribes.”
“So why’d you have to bring her in for a statement? I told you I want to move quick,” the chief said, “before the doper kid flips on her.”
“Chief, can I talk with you in private?” The chief waved his hand for Ryan to leave. My partner looked angry as he turned and left.
“That was my decision, Chief,” I said. “Yeah, we could’ve questioned her about killing her husband, but her attorney would know we don’t have anything about that taking place in our jurisdiction. Then she could go to the media and cry witch hunt when we push on the bribery and the Hagerty murder.
“My way gives us more leverage. She’ll be so scared we’re gonna go public she’s on the Henley payroll, she’s gonna be a lot more cooperative with us. If she knows anything about the murder, she’ll deal by giving it up so long as we keep quiet about her dirty money.
“Let me explain why I’m not doing this the way you told me to do it.” I looked at the chief. The lines on his face recorded all of his sixty-two years. Heavy lids half covered his small gray eyes. His pink nose and cheeks were covered with tiny veins. “Here’s the way I see it,” I said. “I understand you want to solve two murders and be the big hero, but my paycheck says Rawlings Police Department, and I’m gonna work on the murder that took place in Rawlings. When you give me evidence or even probable cause Dolores Weston conspired—right here in Rawlings—to kill her husband, I’ll start working on that case.”
“Let me give you another reason I’m doing it the way I want to: I don’t give a shit about what you want. And I don’t give a shit about pissing you off. You want me to quit? Fine, I’ll quit. But first I’m gonna solve this goddamn case. And if you try to block me by pulling me off the case or making me chase after the Maui connection, I’m gonna go straight to the newspaper. I’ll lay out the money trail, and I’ll explain your role in preventing me from doing my job.”
I sat down in the chair facing his desk, which seemed to piss him off more than what I’d said. “You’ve got, what, thirty years on the job? One more to go, right, to sixty-five? You remember when you got your ass chewed out by the mayor for buying patrol cars from your brother-in-law’s dealership? How do you think it’s gonna look, you keeping me from getting to the bottom of the investigation of a dirty state senator? People might think you were on Henley’s payroll, too. I wouldn’t conclude that, personally, ’cause I know what a stand-up guy you are, but I couldn’t rule it out, either. I’d have to be honest with the reporter. You see where I’m going?”
> His hands were shaking with rage. “Just give me an opportunity to fire you.”
I laughed. “I’m not gonna give you anything. I just told you: I don’t give a shit about you. You don’t exist. I’m free. But remember this: I go down, I’m taking you.” I was pointing a finger at him. “I’m taking you with me.”
I got up from the chair, walked back out to the bullpen, and plopped into my chair.
“What was that all about?” Ryan said, his tone cold.
“I’m sorry, Ryan, it wasn’t anything I didn’t want you to hear. It’s just I didn’t want to spray any shit on you. I told him if he tries to derail the investigation or fire me, I’d go to the newspaper and explain how he was stonewalling.”
“I could have been there for that.”
“No, there’s no reason for that. You’re there, he might think you’re with me on it and try to hurt you, too. This way, I can say honestly it was just me talking. You’re clean. You’re gonna be working here a lot longer than I will. You should stay friends with him if you can.”
“This is our investigation, Karen. We’re partners.”
“Yeah, and I’m treating you like a partner. And you’ll get all the credit when we solve the case. But I want to protect you.”
He was angry. “I’m not looking for the credit. I’m looking to be a good detective. I want to learn from you.”
“You’re already a good detective, and you’re just gonna get better. But if you want to learn from me, learn this: keep your distance from fuck-up detectives.”
Ryan shook his head, as if there was no way he was going to get me off that idea. “You think Weston’s involved in hitting Hagerty?”
“Not sure,” I said. “Obviously, she’s dirty, but I don’t know if it goes any farther than that.”
“The way she was pleading with you not to divulge the dirty money from Henley, it sounded to me like that’s as far as it went.”
“Yeah, could be. But it could just be her opening move. We know she’s a little dirty, so she concedes that point. But who knows? She could have something to do with the murder, and she’s waiting for us to show her some evidence on that. Then she falls back to her next position.”
“And the tie-in to Maui?”
“Like I said to the chief, we work on our own case. If they’re related and she sees she’s going down on one of them, she’ll use the other one to bargain with.”
“Because,” Ryan said, “at that point her career is over.”
“Yeah, at that point she’s just trying to avoid the needle.”
Chapter 9
I looked down at the blinking light on my phone. I listened to the message. It was Allen Pfeiffer from the FBI. Call him right away.
“Pfeiffer.”
“Allen, Karen Seagate. What’s up?”
“You know that guy Timothy Sanders who flew from Waco to Rawlings. I got an idea this morning and went back into the TSA database.”
“Yeah?”
“Everything I told you about his flight from Waco to Billings was accurate. But guess what? That wasn’t the only flying he’d been doing recently. He flew to Billings on Sunday, November 23. Then he flew back to Waco on Wednesday, November 26.”
“Holy shit. He was here in town when Hagerty was hit.”
“I’m just telling you where he flew.”
“You know my next question?” I said.
“Yeah. He hasn’t flown anywhere since he landed in Billings last Thursday and visited you.”
“Allen, what made you think to check the earlier flight manifests?”
“Don’t know. Could be the way you said he made a point of telling you about the flight that morning from Waco. It sounded like maybe he took that flight to lay down an alibi.”
“I should’ve thought of that.”
“It was just a hunch.”
“Nice of you to say, but I should’ve caught that. All right, you say he hasn’t flown anywhere. Does that cover all flights?”
“It covers everything, unless he arranged a private charter and paid the guy not to list him on the manifest.”
“Allen, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“Forget it. Just get him.”
“You bet we will.” I hung up.
Ryan was hanging up his phone. “I tried his hotel. He checked out the morning he came in and talked to us. Didn’t tell the clerk what his next stop was. The clerk remembers he had a rental car. And no, he didn’t leave a plate number on the registration form.”
“Okay,” I said, “call the rental companies at the airport in Billings and get the specs on his rental car. Then put that on the National Alert.”
“Got it,” Ryan said.
“And give me the number for Soul Savers in Colorado Springs.”
I called Soul Savers first and, after climbing most of the branches on their phone tree, got a woman who said they had not seen him in months. I tried the Archbishop’s office in Colorado Springs. No luck there, either. The Archbishop was booked solid the whole week, and his calendar showed no calls to the Board of Directors, and no incoming calls from Sanders to the Archbishop.
“Ryan, give me the number for Sanders’ home in Waco, will ya?” I punched it in.
“Hello?” It was a man’s voice.
“Hello, this is Detective Karen Seagate, Rawlings Police Department, calling from Montana. I’m trying to reach Timothy Sanders. Is he in?”
“Did something happen to Timothy?”
“Nothing’s happened to Timothy, sir. Can you tell me who I’m talking to?”
“My name is Stephen Friedl. Is Timothy in some sort of trouble?”
“Mr. Friedl, I need you to calm down. I’m the police detective in charge of the investigation of the Arlen Hagerty murder. You heard about that, is that correct?”
“Yes, I did. But I’ve just been so worried about Timothy.”
“Mr. Friedl, do you know where Mr. Sanders is now? We’d like to talk with him.”
“No, Detective, I have no idea.”
“Can you tell me when you last saw him?”
“It was last week. I’m not sure what day it was. Let me think. It was Wednesday, I believe. He told me he was going to meet with Arlen Hagerty. I said, why not just call him. He said it had to be face-to-face. I said, Timothy, you’re going to fly all that distance? I know you’ve had your differences with Mr. Hagerty, but can’t it wait until the next Board meeting? He said, Stephen, I know you mean well, but this is something I have to do. It’s between me and Mr. Hagerty. I said to him, when will you be back? He said he didn’t know.”
“And since then, has he gotten in touch with you?”
“No, that’s why I’m so frightened. We haven’t been apart for more than one night in the six years we’ve been together, and he always calls.”
“I see. Will you do me a favor, Mr. Friedl? Will you give me a call the second you hear from him?”
“Of course, of course, Detective.” I gave him my number.
Friedl said, “And will you promise to call me when you find out where he is? This is just not like him. He’s always so considerate.”
“I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure it’s just some misunderstanding. Do you have a cell or some other number so I can call you?”
“Yes, certainly. I have a cell, and if I’m not at this number I’m at the gallery.”
I took down his numbers. “Okay, Mr. Friedl, we’ll be in touch.”
“Yes, please, Detective. Bye-bye.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Friedl.” I hung up.
Ryan said, “You buy that?”
“Yeah, I do. That kind of worry, you can’t fake it. You hear the first thing he wants to know: if something’s happened to Timothy. That was genuine. If he knew where Timothy was, he’d have been in touch. What do you think?”
“Yeah, that’s the way I read it, too,” Ryan said. “Okay, so what does the fact he’s gay tell us?” We were silent a minute. “I’m not getting anything off of it. It
doesn’t tell us anything about his motives—whether he’d want to kill Hagerty.”
I said, “Even though Hagerty was anti-gay in his politics?”
“Yeah, I know, but gays have been up against that for so long they’re used to working with people like Hagerty. It’s not a motive for murder.”
“Okay, does it tell you anything about where he is and what he’s gonna do next?”
“His being gay tells me he’s gay,” Ryan said. “That’s it.”
“Shit. What have we got? He’s not here, he’s not home with his partner, he’s not at Soul Savers. Where the hell is he?”
Ryan said, “He probably doesn’t have any ex-wives or dependents. Maybe he’s got other relatives? Parents, maybe?”
“Yeah, that’s an idea. How ’bout we check back with Soul Savers. They might have some paperwork on him gives us a previous address or something about a family.”
“I’m on it.” Ryan picked up his phone.
“Great. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” I grabbed my leather shoulder bag and my coat and headed out to the parking lot. The sky was grey, the patchy clouds hurrying across the sky. It wasn’t that cold, but the wind was picking up, scattering dead leaves and debris in the lot. I got in my cruiser and tossed my bag on the passenger seat. I took out my cell and dialed the number.
“Pediatrics.”
“Hello, this is Karen Seagate calling again. Is it possible for me to get an update on Annie Pritchard?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Seagate. Ms. Pritchard has asked us not to give out any information over the phone.”
“Please, ma’am. Is Ms. Pritchard there? Could I speak with her?”
“Let me see. Hold on.” I counted ten seconds, twenty, thirty. Finally, the nurse came back on. “Ms. Seagate, I’m sorry. Ms. Pritchard is not available.”
“Please, ma’am, could you tell me your name?”
“I’m Lauren Weddle.”
“Ms. Weddle, what do you mean when you say she’s not available?”
“Ms. Seagate,” she said, her tone annoyed, “‘not available’ means not available. You’ll have to take my word for it.”