by Beth Urich
Marge took a deep breath. “Remember when I brought you the survey results? I said the responses had come so fast and with an unusually high percentage of return.” When Kate acknowledged with a nod, Marge continued, “Something bothered me about the whole thing. I kept bugging Roger with it, and he suggested I either get over it or do something about it.”
“Sounds like his sage advice,” Kate said with a smile.
“I started making calls to the companies who didn’t respond and the ones who did and to the survey company itself. I won’t go into all the details. Now keep in mind this is my opinion, but the bottom line is I’m convinced the whole thing was a sham.”
Kate stared at the realtor, then the sticky note wall. This must be how Helen feels when reporters take giant leaps to conclusions, she mused. “Okay, Margie, I may need a few more of those details.”
“I guess I left out a few things. I was going to practice on Roger, but I couldn’t wait to share this with you.”
The reporter waited, letting Marge sit down and gather her wits.
“Of the hundreds of companies on the mailing list, the first ten or so I called had not received the survey. That included three who supposedly returned responses. I assumed I’d gotten in touch with the wrong department, but each company said that was not the case. So, I called a few more. Quite a few more. Actually, all of them. None of the companies had received the original mailing and, consequently, none had responded. On the good news side, many were eager to answer the questions and embraced coming to Branson for meetings. I confirmed the addresses from the original mailing list. All were correct.”
“Why would the Chamber of Commerce lie about the survey?”
“I called the survey company to find out. I was told that the person who handled our particular mailing was out of the office but would call me back. That was almost a week ago. So, this morning I called the Better Business Bureau in Chicago where the company is located.”
“Don’t tell me it doesn’t exist.”
“It exists, but no physical address, only a phone number and post office box. Numerous complaints have been filed against the company, all answered in the same manner. The work was subcontracted, and any complaints will be forwarded to the appropriate party.”
“What kind of complaints?” Kate asked.
“Mostly overcharging and poor reporting.”
“I must be missing something. If the surveys weren’t mailed to anyone, how were the reports compiled? Who made up the responses?”
“That was another thing that bothered me about the results. The report said companies overwhelmingly requested large conference facilities and activities for large groups.”
“Like someone manufactured the data to produce a desired result,” Kate said.
Marge grinned, leaned toward Kate, and said, “That’s not all I found out. I checked the survey company with the state of Illinois. It was incorporated in Delaware, which is fairly common, and is treated as a trusted out-of-state entity in Illinois. The last update for the registration was a couple years ago. Guess who the Illinois agent of record was.”
Evaluating Marge’s expression, the reporter whispered, “Harold Wainright,” and waited for confirmation.
Marge nodded. “And for the life of me I can’t figure out the point of the whole thing. It seems to be an elaborate way to say what everyone in this town already thinks. Branson needs a convention center.”
Kate said, “Maybe, but I hesitate to point out that nothing has come of this somewhat complex hoax, not yet anyway. However, it does add to all the other odd things that are taking place. I’d be willing to bet that slimy Larry Allen is in on this.”
“You don’t like him very much.”
“He’s an arrogant, selfish and hateful man.”
“Sounds like you’ve seen him in action,” Marge said.
“He came to our house last night. It had nothing to do with this issue, at least not directly. He can be a bully, but his brazen and foolish attack on me was out of character.”
“He attacked you?”
“Not physically. Well, he did poke my shoulder, but that’s it.”
Marge said, “Arrogant describes him all right. At a minimum he lacks civil decorum.”
“Among other things.”
KATE SPENT THE REST of the day preparing for her evening with Tom. She wanted to fix him a nice dinner at his apartment before she tried to convince him that all the little things she knew about Allen and others would add up to some devious conspiracy worth the police department’s attention. Marge’s information about Wainright would be helpful. But so far nothing seemed illegal—unethical maybe and definitely strange but no more.
Tom arrived as she was putting the final touch on dinner. She ran to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck. He picked her up and hugged her tightly.
“I missed you,” she said.
“Me too.”
She kissed him and he returned the passion. He placed her gently on the sofa, her arms still clinging to his neck. She pulled him down next to her and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Tom said, “I don’t mean to seem unappreciative of this attention, but is something wrong?”
“Can’t a girl be happy to see her fella?”
“Sure, but I can tell when you’re happy, mad, or sad. And I am particularly good at assessing your I-am-going-to-punch-someone posture.”
“Are you saying I look like I’m going to punch someone?”
“Those dazzling eyes do not lie.”
“I would argue with you, but you’re right. I had a run-in with someone.”
“Councilman Allen?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you like almost everyone else.”
“Before I tell you, you have to promise me something.”
“What must I promise?”
“Not to do something rash.”
“See. Now that’s a problem. You absolutely cannot say something like that to a boyfriend who’s been away for three days.”
“And you have to promise not to tell Dad.”
“I’m going to promise to do as you ask to the best of my ability. Will that work?”
Kate shook her head.
“Sorry, that’s my best offer. You can’t expect more,” Tom said, stroking her hands.
“He came to our house last night. Dad and Margie were out for dinner and a movie. And it was sort of creepy. He knew they were out. He knew you were still in Chicago.”
“Why would he come to your house? What did he want?”
“This is sort of a long story. Can it wait till after dinner?”
“I already have plans for after dinner,” Tom said, moving closer.
She slipped her hands around his and said, “I’ll try to make it brief. I found the key to the box Etta gave me. Inside I found her marriage certificate, Clay’s suicide note, and a partnership agreement for Riverside Mercantile.”
“The company formed when Etta merged her store with Jack Brighton’s?”
“Yes. The agreement, which was signed in October of 1942, named the three partners and any heirs: Jack Brighton, Etta Stupholds, and Lex Porter.”
“Are you serious? A partnership in perpetuity?”
“According to Phil Bingham, if the document can be authenticated as far as age and signatures, the contract is valid.”
“What does this have to do with Allen coming to your house?”
“I gave the papers I found to Etta, but I gave her a copy of the agreement and kept the original. And, before you ask, I’m not sure why. But Bryan has a right to know about it. Anyway, Etta told Jack and apparently he said something to the councilman.”
“Who came to retrieve the original from his friend Kate.”
“Precisely. But he wasn’t exactly friendly.”
“This is where I may do something rash, I suspect.”
“He was rather abrasive, especially when he poked his index finger in my shoulder and th
reatened me. Not only that, he refused to leave and started searching for the agreement.”
Tom’s silence surprised Kate, who expected some reaction that more resembled anger. Instead, her boyfriend stared blankly at her, his brow furrowed. She let go of his hands and pushed off the sofa and stormed into the kitchen. Apparently, poking someone with one finger was not cause for alarm—unless, of course, you are on the receiving end.
He followed her and eased up behind her, caressing her shoulders and kissing the nape of her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“That I was poked or that you don’t care?”
He twisted her around to face him. “It occurred to me the partnership agreement may help a case I’m working. I guess I sort of drifted off.”
“Drifted off? You could at least pretend to listen. Wait a minute. Are you saying that the skeleton is Lex Porter?”
“I did not say that.”
“I knew it,” Kate shouted.
Tom grabbed her shoulders and put on his most serious expression. “You can’t know.”
“Maybe I didn’t know it exactly, but I was getting close.”
“That makes even less sense. And you’re still guessing.”
“But—”
He placed his index finger on her lips. “I’m serious, Katie. You can’t put your suspicions in your paper. When the identity is confirmed, you will be notified. I’ll make sure you are notified before anyone in the entire universe.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t get too excited,” Kate said.
“We are not excited.”
“The problem is Jack Brighton, his lawyer, and Allen say the agreement is not valid. Even Etta told me it was done as a lark and she didn’t take it seriously.”
“And yet she placed it in a box with other valuable documents and gave it to you for safe-keeping.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” Kate said, mulling the possibility. “But she didn’t have a key.”
“Or so she said.”
“Anyway, the agreement was more of a memento than a contract from her point of view. But both Jack and Larry said it would be misunderstood creating unnecessary problems.”
“Yeah, for them and the company. Where’s the original?”
“In a safe place.”
“You have to turn that over to me. I’ll also need a statement explaining how, when, and where you found it. And throw in whatever discussions you’ve had about it, including this one with me and the one with Allen.”
“Yes, Sir, Your Detectiveness Sir.”
He reached behind her and lifted the lid of the pot on the stove. “Smells wonderful. Can we eat now?”
“You cannot drop this conversation after barking all those instructions. We have more to discuss,” she said, replacing the lid and pulling him to the living room.
He sat down next to her and said, “I’m sorry I barked. I suppose I am a little excited about the agreement. I’m not sure how important it will be, but I want to make sure we document everything properly. I agree Bryan should be aware of it and I’ll take care of that in due time.”
“Okay, I forgive you.”
“Great. Can we eat now?”
“I told you we have more to discuss. I fixed your favorite dinner to butter you up.”
“Not because you love me?”
“That too, but I don’t want you to be mad.”
“About?” Tom said slowly.
“I’ve sort of been investigating the construction situation in Branson.”
“Sort of?”
“It all started with Bryan’s suit against the city. Then other things happened.”
“You know I’ve been researching the claims Bryan made,” Tom said.
“I didn’t know for a fact, because we don’t discuss work things. Remember?”
“Okay, where is this conversation going?”
“I’ve put together a notebook containing a lot of little things. My dad thinks since I can’t prove anything with all my pieces, I should turn everything over to a real detective. I picked you.”
“Ah, Sid is no longer your favorite?”
“Not anymore.”
“Where is this notebook?” he asked, scanning the apartment.
“At my house. Do you want to see it?”
“Are you going to make me ask for it?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Can I please review the information you’ve collected? And would you mind throwing in the original partnership agreement and associated documentation I previously requested?”
“I would be happy to have your help.”
“Uh, you misunderstand. Didn’t your encounter with Allen last evening make it obvious you must turn everything over to the authorities?”
“I was joking. I did the notebook for you. And I prepared it while you were in Chicago. Allen simply convinced me I was on the right track.”
Tom smiled and pulled her closer.
Kate placed her hands on his shoulders and said, “All of my work for only one favor.”
“Ah-ha. Here’s the catch.”
“I want the hometown advantage on any information to be released regarding whatever Allen is up to. Oh, and the skeleton case resolution too.”
“Is that going to do it for you?”
“That’s it. And I won’t even ask you to put it in writing.”
“Can we eat now?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Waking up to breakfast in bed with Kate delayed Tom’s departure for work on Wednesday. Fortunately, she had gotten up early to document the information he requested about the partnership agreement. He arrived in time to see Sid crossing the police department lobby toward the stairs leading up to the building department suite.
Sid said, “Hey, partner. I was beginning to think I’d have to go solo with Leatherman.”
“We need to postpone the meeting for a bit,” Tom said, tapping the notebook he’d picked up from Kate’s house.
“What’s that?”
“Research Katie’s been doing regarding Porter’s suit and other things. I’m not sure what’s in this binder, but I want to review it before we talk to anyone about anything.”
“You get the coffee,” Sid said, heading back to their office, “I’ll call Ben to reschedule.”
Tom scanned Kate’s documentation, which was topically organized and separated by index tab sheets. He put the notebook in the center of the worktable and added a stack of information the detectives had assembled and a stack for statements by witnesses, including those by Frankie and other tip-line callers.
Sid slid his chair over to the table. “You didn’t say why Kate gave you all this stuff.”
“Trying to organize what she gathered, I suppose.”
“Or maybe she found out a lot of little bitty things that she believes in her newspaper reporter’s heart will prove something somehow to someone.”
“Excellent summation. The good news is she has promised ... more or less ... to stay out of the investigation for the time being.”
“That is good news. By the way, Leatherman says he’ll be free all day, we can drop by any time. But if we want to speak to his inspectors we’ll have to wait until later this afternoon when they return to the office.”
“Good. Also, one document Katie gave me isn’t in the notebook. She found it by accident and showed it to me this morning. I made her turn it over to me.”
“You made her? Sorry I missed that.”
“Let’s say I convinced her it was a good idea,” Tom said, handing his partner the agreement and Kate’s statement.
As he read the document, Sid’s what-now facial expression progressed to keen interest followed by alarm. “He went to Kate’s house? Is he crazy?”
“More arrogant than crazy. Don’t worry. Kate knocked him down a notch or two.”
“This agreement could speak to motive,” Sid said.
“I agree. I’m not sure what happened between Jack and Lex, but something caused Porter to
go out on his own. Maybe he changed his mind, wanted to come back. Maybe he realized he had a right to one-third of the business.”
“They argued, it got ugly. Sounds plausible,” Sid said.
“We need to go over the scenario some more. Right now, log it as evidence in the skeleton case and put it somewhere safe. I’ll get started on Katie’s tome.”
The detectives each reviewed the notebook, which included the reporter’s interview transcripts and her take-away opinions from the meetings. Another part documented the Chamber of Commerce survey, including Marge’s findings. In addition, Kate provided information from the Fire Chief and others regarding more recent residential fires and offers to purchase property on the lakefront. The next to last section, titled “pure speculation,” lived up to the name. In it she outlined her conspiracy theory involving Allen, Henderson, and Wainright. The final portion of the notebook included biographies of all “conspirators” and information about every business included in her research, linking individuals and businesses and locations in a complex relationship chart.
Tom finished his review and pushed away from the table before returning the last pages to the binder. His admiration for the really cute red-haired girl he met in grade school and grew to love deeply had taken on a new dimension. For one thing, her incredibly convoluted train of thought both horrified and amused him.
“You know what terrifies me?” he asked.
Sid shook his head.
“I see her point.”
“That is frightening, but I know what you mean.”
“If we consider this circumstantial evidence in conjunction with what we have already, we might have a case,” Tom said.
Sid poured himself another cup of coffee and topped off his partner’s. “But a case for what? I see the bribery angle, but can that be tied to her band of conspirators? What are they guilty of? Wanting prosperity for the city? Even wanting personal wealth isn’t against the law.”
Tom countered, “Unless you achieve success by breaking the law.”
After going around a few more times and getting nowhere in particular, the detectives agreed to visit Leatherman, who was surprised to hear about the hotline lead regarding Fortner.