“No weapon, no shell casings.
“There is one avenue that I haven’t pursued yet.”
“Yes. And that would be?” snapped Sloan.
“We haven’t put the word out among our inmate snitches. If Levi’s murder is in any way connected to somebody in our prison population, inmate informants would probably hear about it.”
“I don’t want you to do that yet. Let’s hold off, for say, twenty-four hours, and see if the investigation produces an arrest. If not, then you can have my blessing for using prison snitches. I know how useful they can be, but at the same time, the last thing we need right now is a prison disturbance on our hands. Only use prison snitches as a last resort.”
To his credit, Sloan had learned to choose his battles carefully. He’d been savvy enough to successfully navigate the troubled waters of an angry public that wanted increasingly punitive measures against criminals; a state legislature eager, in the name of re-election, to placate that angry public; and a governor who wanted nothing more than to have his corrections department operate smoothly and quietly without creating political waves for his administration. So far, Sloan had been successful at doing just that.
Sloan concluded our telephone conversation with some words of caution: “You know, Sam, be damned careful with this information about Levi’s extracurricular activities. Between Vogue’s and Margaret’s families, they swing a lot of political clout. If this gets out, the press will have a field day with it. And if the families conclude that we’ve turned this murder investigation into a character assassination of the dearly departed, they’ll close ranks fast and turn up the political heat. In the meantime, let’s hope the murder is unrelated to both his fooling around and our offender population, then maybe this will all go away quietly. If it doesn’t, keep your head down because the fallout is likely to get real serious. And Sam, if it turns out that you’re the guy who exposed the marital infidelity, things could get a lot more difficult for you.”
An ugly case growing uglier by the minute, I thought.
Chapter Ten
I still hadn’t caught up with McConnell when my cell phone rang. It was Patti calling to give me the low-down on Sue Ann Winkler and John Merchant.
“There are no outstanding warrants on either party at the present time. Winkler has two prior misdemeanor arrests: one for possession of a controlled substance, and the other being a minor in possession of alcohol. That’s it for her. Merchant is quite another story. He has two priors for driving under the influence, two for possession of a controlled substance, one for resisting arrest, one for assault on a police officer, one for domestic violence, one for carrying a concealed weapon without a permit, and his most recent scrape with the law resulted in an arrest for attempted murder, plea bargained down to aggravated assault. He is currently on probation in Salt Lake County for three years on the agg assault conviction. His PO’s name is Jenny Owens.
“Oh, and one more thing,” said Wheeler. “I contacted the juvenile court, and they show a lengthy juvenile record on him starting at age eleven. Lots of drug and alcohol offenses, several property crimes, and two aggravated assaults. Nice guy, huh.”
“Yeah, a real Boy Scout. Leave a copy of Merchant’s probation file on my desk and take another directly to Sloan’s office. And get me Jenny Owens’ home telephone number. I need to talk to her before I have a little chat with Merchant.”
***
I met McConnell in the lobby of City Hall. We were five minutes late for our briefing with the mayor and chief of police, so there was little time to exchange information. On our way upstairs, I filled her in on the developments in the case from my end. We agreed that Winkler and Merchant deserved top billing on our list of suspects, particularly in light of the fact that at the moment, they happened to be our only suspects. We decided to run them down after the press conference.
The news conference was predictable and largely uneventful. The most interesting part of the show turned out to be an angry exchange between Mayor Porter Baldwin and Police Chief Ron Hansen moments before the press conference. The tension between the two was palpable.
The ensuing argument involved two separate but related issues: How much information about the case should be divulged to the assembled media, and who should conduct the news conference.
To no one in particular, Chief Hansen said, “Let’s talk about what we should and shouldn’t reveal to the press. We should refrain from discussing any leads currently under investigation as well as the possible physical evidence found at Vogue’s home. Also, I think we should resist speculating about possible suspects or motives for the murder.”
“Well, Chief, that about covers it all,” replied the mayor caustically. “Since you’d like to prohibit us from discussing just about everything related to the case, why bother conducting a press conference at all?”
“I think, Mr. Mayor, that we need to conduct the press conference in a way that doesn’t compromise our investigation. It’s possible that our killer could be following the case through local news sources.”
“That’s well and good, Chief, but we also have an obligation to inform the press and the public about the steps we’re taking to solve a brutal homicide committed against a prominent public official from our community,” countered the mayor.
Fortunately, Kate intervened before this rancorous exchange escalated further, and offered a compromise that seemed acceptable to both the mayor and Chief Hansen. “Mayor Baldwin, may I suggest a middle ground position that should satisfy your needs without compromising our investigation.”
“Please do,” he replied curtly.
“I don’t think we have a problem telling the press that physical evidence was found at the crime scene so long as we don’t reveal the specifics of what we found. We can explain that crime lab personnel are examining the evidence but that we can’t comment further until we receive their report. It’s also okay to tell the press that the investigation has produced several leads so long as we avoid revealing the specifics. As for speculating about possible motives or suspects, I strongly concur with Chief Hansen that it would be premature to start down that path so early in the investigation.”
Both nodded agreement.
That issue settled, Chief Hansen moved on. “I believe that it would be best if Lieutenant McConnell and I conducted the press conference.”
“Sorry, Chief, but I disagree,” said the mayor. “Given the nature of this crime and the potential political ramifications for the city, I think it only appropriate that I conduct the news conference, assisted by Lieutenant McConnell.”
Not having a ready response, and realizing that the mayor sat higher on the food chain that he did, Hansen reluctantly acceded to the mayor’s wishes.
The conference room was larger than I expected, and for this occasion, an elevated stage was placed in the center with a speaker’s podium and attached microphone. The U.S. and Utah State flags decorated each end of the stage. All four local TV stations were present, as well as representatives from the city’s two daily newspapers and a handful of radio stations.
McConnell and I followed Mayor Baldwin and Chief Hansen onto the stage and assumed a position off to one side. The mayor, with Chief Hansen at his side, read a short prepared statement and then opened the news conference to questions. The questions were standard fare. What evidence did we have? Had the investigation produced a suspect? Was there a motive for the murder? Were we close to making an arrest?
A reporter from the Salt Lake Tribune asked the question I’d hoped wouldn’t be asked.
“Mayor Baldwin, did Levi Vogue’s murder have anything to do with his work as the Chairman of the Utah Board of Pardons and Parole?”
“I can assure you that the police are looking at every possible motive for this horrific crime, but at the moment, it would be premature to comment any further.”
At the end of the press conference, the various news teams broke away into different parts of the room and began live feeds
directly to their respective evening news programs.
Kate and I attempted to make a hasty exit, hoping to avoid any chance encounters with inquisitive members of the press. Instead, we found ourselves in a second meeting with Chief Hansen and the mayor. I wasn’t sure what this meeting was going to be about, but my nose told me it would have the same ripe odor as my unwashed gym socks. And guess what? I was right.
“I want to thank both of you for helping us with the news conference and for all your hard work in this dreadful murder investigation,”said Baldwin. “I want you to understand that I have the utmost confidence in you and in the ability of our police department to bring this case to a successful resolution. However, I feel compelled to share with you a conversation I had just prior to the news conference with the victim’s father, Richard Vogue. Mr. Vogue made it very clear that the family expects this case to be solved rapidly, and he openly questioned whether sufficient personnel have been assigned to the investigation. I did my best to placate him, but I need to know how many detectives you have working on the case.”
Before Chief Hansen could speak, Kate responded. “Mr. Mayor, as the lead investigator, I can assure you that we have more than adequate resources in place. The makeup of the present homicide team consists of four officers, two from our own department, and two, including Mr. Kincaid, from the Department of Corrections. We have additional personnel available as circumstances dictate.”
The look on Mayor Baldwin’s face was one of skepticism. He wasn’t finished. “Mr. Vogue also wanted us to know that any interviews with members of the immediate family, including Margaret and her two sons, would need to occur in the presence of the family’s corporate legal counsel and at a location acceptable to the family.” Looking directly at Kate he said, “I hope that won’t be too inconvenient.”
I could tell this news caught her off-guard. She didn’t look happy.
Mayor Baldwin concluded by stating the obvious. Richard Vogue II, as Chairman of the Board and CEO of Vogue Chemicals, an international specialty chemicals firm, was not a man to be trifled with. He was a billionaire with political connections that extended to the White House. What Mayor Baldwin didn’t have to say was that under no circumstances would he risk alienating such a powerful ally, especially with the next mayoral campaign a mere nine months away.
Chapter Eleven
We dropped Kate’s car off at police headquarters and headed straight for my office to collect the probation file on John Merchant.
“Tell me something, Kate. What was that nonsense about at the press conference between Mayor Baldwin and your boss? It almost sounded personal.”
“I don’t know for sure. I can tell you what the local rumor mill is saying, though. Chief Hansen has been an extremely popular chief, not only with the department, but with the public as well. I keep hearing that he intends to retire soon and has set his sights on the mayor’s office. My guess is that Baldwin probably feels threatened and isn’t about to risk playing second fiddle to Chief Hansen in any public arena. And you can’t discount the political heat that this case is generating. If either the mayor or the chief got the chance to dis the other publicly on this thing, they’d probably do it.”
“That makes sense. And it wouldn’t be the first time a popular sheriff or police chief made the leap from public employee to political hack.”
We reviewed the probation file and then used my office speaker phone and called Jenny Owens, Merchant’s probation officer. Owens was experienced and very competent. I wanted whatever insights she could provide regarding Merchant. We needed to find him fast and eliminate him as a suspect, or somehow tie him to the Vogue murder.
She picked up on the fourth ring. “Owens. How can I help you.”
“Jenny, Sam Kincaid. How are you?”
“I’m well, Sam. How about you?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I introduced Kate to Jenny over the speaker phone and explained that we wanted a probation status report and her professional take on John Merchant. I didn’t tell her why, but she figured that out very quickly.
“Geez, sounds kind of serious, Sam. This wouldn’t have anything to do with the murder of Levi Vogue, would it?”
“It could; and I’ll have to ask you to keep it confidential.”
“Sure thing. Your timing is rather interesting. He was in to see me the day before yesterday for his scheduled visit. If you looked at his probation agreement, you probably saw that his conditions include completion of both an anger management class and an outpatient alcohol treatment program. I recently called the clinical social workers who are running those treatment groups, and I basically got the same story from both. He’s just going through the motions. He shows up, but makes absolutely no effort or contribution in either group. He knows we’ll revoke his ass in a heartbeat if he misses any sessions. He reports to me when he’s supposed to, makes his monthly victim restitution payment, and maintains sporadic employment, mostly in low paying labor jobs. And that’s about it.”
“And your personal impressions of him?” I asked.
“My take on him is that he’s a very angry man. He reeks of hostility and resentment. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m a female officer or if it’s a more generalized hostility toward any authority figure. I’ve been giving some thought to transferring him to the caseload of a male officer to see if his disposition improves. He gives me the creeps. And did you get a look at his size? The guy goes six-five and weighs about two-forty. And I’m not talking about a fat boy either. He’s built like one of those steroid-using pro wrestlers you see on TV.”
“Thanks for the insights, Jenny. It sounds like we’d do well to call out the troops tonight when we go looking for him.”
“Absolutely,” Owens replied. “Look, Sam, I don’t want to pry into what you’re doing, but, since he is a part of my caseload, I’d sure like to tag along.”
“Fair enough,” I replied. “You’re welcome to join us. Given what you’ve just told us, having another agent along makes good sense anyway.”
We called Burnham and arranged for him to meet Jenny and establish visual surveillance at Merchant’s home. I instructed Burnham not to initiate contact until McConnell and I caught up. I wanted to talk with Sue Ann Winkler prior to confronting Merchant. Other than the killer, Winkler may have been the last person to see Levi Vogue alive.
***
McConnell and I drove to Sue Ann Winkler’s apartment and found nobody home. We then headed over to her place of employment, the Satin & Lace Club.
“Kate, I’d be happy to go in and handle this if you’d rather wait here.”
She faintly smiled and said, “Thanks for being so thoughtful, but this isn’t my first trip to a strip joint.”
“Cop pay is that bad,” I quipped.
This time she frowned and said, “Smart ass.”
A couple of stout-looking bouncers greeted us at the front door. They were busily checking customer identification and collecting a hefty twenty-dollar cover charge. We were directed toward a long mahogany-colored bar located at the back of the premises, where we met the club manager.
Customers sat singly or in small groups, with waitresses serving soft drinks, and the dancers moving from customer to customer soliciting table dances. The performers on stage appeared to be dancing two-song sets, then rotating to the next stage until they had danced on all three.
McConnell glanced over and caught me looking at a beautiful redhead performing on the stage nearest us. “Guilty as charged.”
Feeling a little defensive, I said, “Look, I was only admiring her athleticism. If I were to end up in a position like that, it would take a crow-bar and a trip to the chiropractor to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again.”
“Sure,” she said with a slightly self-righteous smirk. “Pay attention, and let’s get this over with so we can get out of here.”
“I am paying attention,” I protested weakly.
The club manager escorted Sue Ann Wink
ler, a.k.a. Jasmine, to our table. She didn’t look at all surprised to see us, so I assumed her mother had warned her about our impending visit. Unlike her mother, Sue Ann was petite, five-one or five-two at most, slim, small breasted, with blond hair cut so short it would have looked masculine on just about anyone else. On her, however, it looked just right. All in all, a very cute young woman.
We were escorted to a small business office behind the bar, which offered privacy and a measure of insulation from the loud music.
The manager asked, “Would you like me to stay, Sue Ann?”
“Thanks, Jason, but I’ll be just fine.”
McConnell explained that we already knew about her relationship with Vogue, but needed her to corroborate some of our information. Kate began by asking, “Describe your relationship with Levi Vogue.”
Sounding relaxed and composed, she responded, “I was his friend and his lover.”
“How long had you been seeing him?”
“About eight or nine months, I guess.”
“How frequently did you spend time together?”
“Once, sometimes twice a week. It always depended on his schedule, whenever he could get away from work or his family.”
“Where would the two of you meet?”
“Usually at the motel, which, as you know, my mother owns.”
“Is that the only place you got together?”
“Yeah, for the most part. Sometimes we’d go back to my apartment as long as my roommate wasn’t around. We didn’t do that very often though.”
“So you’re telling us that most of your contacts with Mr. Vogue occurred at the motel or your apartment. Is that correct?”
“That’s what I’m telling you,” replied Winkler.
Sue Ann Winkler was proving to be one cool customer. I couldn’t tell if someone had coached her beforehand, but so far, she was good. However, her external facade was about to show some cracks as McConnell asked a plethora of increasingly uncomfortable questions.
“Did Mr. Vogue compensate you for your time and companionship?”
Sam Kincaid 01 - The Commission Page 5