by R Weir
“Made bail this morning. Some big time hotshot lawyer flew in from St. Louis and threw around his weight. Somehow, a Polk County judge got involved and got things on the fast track.”
“Pretty quick for some twenty-seven year old who works at Younkers selling men’s clothes.”
“I knew his last name was familiar. I’m sure you tracked it down. Last remaining living member of an Italian crime boss’s family, gunned down seven years ago.”
“Has ties when he needs them. Obviously not in the family business anymore. He offered me a bribe to erase the tape and let him go. Ten grand.”
“Wow. Must have a nest egg somewhere. You obviously declined.”
I nodded my head and left out the part about erasing a section of the tape for more information about Casey. ‘Always hold something back from the police’ was my motto.
“Anything else you care to share?”
“Only that he was Casey Gaines off-and-on boyfriend. She is whom Flynn was seeing and appears to be connected.”
“She was the one you asked for information about, related to your brother’s involvement with FBI Agent Wilson. Is she a suspect in his death?”
“A person of interest. She may know who and why.”
“Any more detail you can give me?”
“Not much, because of the feds. I’m working on it now, unofficially with them.”
“They may have gotten your brother killed. Why hold back? We could be of some help solving it.”
“True. But I may need their pull, and I doubt you have their kind of clout. I will say Casey and her family are at the heart of the matter. I’m still working on several pieces. Carlos was one and I need a big favor to track down a couple more.”
He rocked back in his chair after a sip of his coffee from his Iowa Hawkeye cup.
“I need to get into Flynn’s office. Not certain what I’m looking for, but I need to check it. Can you get me in?”
“It’s in Urbandale’s jurisdiction and still an active crime scene, from what I know.”
“I’m sure you have friends there who can get me in.”
“I do. Though helping me doesn’t mean they’ll help you.”
“How about if I say ‘please’?” I said with a big grin.
He shook his head and picked up his phone, hitting one of his speed dial buttons. After several minutes of back and forth he hung up.
“She can meet us over there in about forty-five minutes.”
“Cool. Enough time for me to buy you a couple of donuts and more coffee. What is nearby?”
“I prefer whole grain muffins. There is a bakery on the way which sells both.”
“Cop who doesn’t eat donuts. I’m surprised they let you in the police union.”
“I’m in the closet. I hide my donut aversion from them. We’ll take my car.”
After getting what turned out to be a huge muffin and large coffee, which was significantly cheaper than prime rib, we headed over to Flynn’s office. Once we arrived, we sat waiting until a plain clothes Urbandale car pulled up. Out stepped a fifty-something woman in a dark blue pant suit, flat black shoes, with shoulder length straight brown hair parted in the middle. She walked up to Frakes and they embraced as if they were old friends. He introduced her, as Detective Toni Bell acknowledged me. I vaguely remembered her face seen through the fog I was in the day I found Flynn. She had been at the scene and may have even talked with me.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Bell said.
“Thank you. I have a recollection of talking with you, though for the life of me I can’t remember what you asked or what I said.”
“You were pretty well out of it. Not hard to imagine why. What are you hoping to find?”
“I don’t know. I’ll pretty well know what it is when I find it.”
“We’ve been over the place several times. No real hard evidence was found. Fingerprints and DNA, but nothing useful. The place was pretty messy.”
“Any leads?” I asked.
“Nothing worth mentioning.”
“So, it won’t hurt me looking it over. I might find something worthwhile. I knew my brother fairly well and was here helping him with something which may have contributed to his death.”
“Okay. You need to wear these gloves and cover your feet. I will be with you all the way. You find anything you must share it. Is this understood?”
Agreeing, I put on the latex gloves and foot coverings and entered the room. When I had found Flynn, I wanted to search the place before the police arrived but couldn’t, for I was in shock. Searching would have been better before the scene was trampled by the army of police, detectives and paramedics which flooded the scene. But this would have to do. As with any search, I started in one section and methodically touched and looked at everything. I was in no rush and didn’t want to miss anything. I’d been in his office several times, so had a good recollection of how it was. There was the main room with desk, filing cabinet, computer, one chair and a loveseat in the corner for clients to sit. I went through the chair and loveseat first, then the filing cabinet, and on to the desk. I went through all the drawers and found nothing of value. I powered on the computer and was prompted with a ‘no hard drive detected’ message.
“Looks as if someone removed the hard drive,” I said out loud.
“Yes, this was our conclusion as well,” said Bell. “Our tech guys opened it up and it was gone. Didn’t have time to wipe so decided to take it and leave the computer behind. Easy enough to pocket it.”
Once finished in the front room I went back to Flynn’s office where he was found. It was larger with a desk, two client chairs, a sofa, a couple of filing cabinets, and a small refrigerator. I again went through it all coming to his computer on the desk and got the same ‘no hard drive detected’ message. I searched high and low for a flash drive, but couldn’t find one. He had copied important evidence onto a flash drive, he had told me over the phone. In this technological day and age, everyone always had one or two lying around.
“Did you find any flash drives?” I asked.
“No,” replied Bell from the next room. “We thought this unusual too. If they were here, they likely took them as well.”
“I recall there being papers on the floor in here. Were they picked up?”
“Yes. The whole scene was photographed and then we checked every piece of paper. Nothing more than some old client files. We contacted all the names but it led to nothing. Everything was put back in the filing cabinet.”
“Where is the chair he was sitting in?” I asked.
“Lab boys took it, since it was covered in blood.”
“What about his fingertips? From what I recall, several of them were cut off. Did you find them here?”
“No. This appeared to have happened elsewhere. From what we can tell, he was shot here with a small caliber .22 at point blank range. Bullet never exited his skull. Medical Examiner thinks he may have been unconscious when they shot him, if it’s any consolation.”
It wasn’t, since he’d been tortured before they shot him. The question was, did they get what they wanted?
I pulled a chair around to the desk so I could sit, and started going through the drawers again. Nothing jumped out and I was getting frustrated. I put my head back to think, looking at the old ceiling tiles, several of which were water-stained. It then dawned on me that Flynn used to hide things in the closet of his bedroom. Cigarettes, pot, booze, and even dirty magazines. There had been an opening to a crawl space in the ceiling where he could stash things. There was a small coat closet and a bathroom to check. Opening the closet, I stood on a chair, lifting a ceiling tile and pushing it to the side. I used my phone’s camera flash as a light and looked around. I found a vinyl pouch with elastic around it and pulled it down after stretching to reach it. It appeared to have been recently placed there, as it was dirt free. As I stepped out of the closet Bell and Frakes were both there.
“What did you find?” asked Bell.
“Hopefull
y, something worthwhile. May I open it?”
“Sure. On the desk.”
Inside were several sheets of papers. On some of them were names, contact information and dollar amounts. Also was a ledger with more names, dollar amounts and plus/minus columns. A few of the names I recognized as friends of Flynn’s, and even a few of mine from days gone by. Others I didn’t know, but wondered if Helen knew them. Toward the bottom was a familiar last name, Wyche, but different first of Gabriel, with references as if this was who they had invested with, the business name Bank On It Returns. Yet Bank On It didn’t provide any returns, showing only red for those who invested. It appeared I’d found a key piece of evidence about who had stolen Flynn and his investors’ money. The evidence lined up with what Wilson had told me. Casey’s uncle was implicated.
“What are we seeing?” asked Frakes.
“Maybe a motive,” I answered.
Chapter 34
The previous day had been productive. I’d found something key in the case and Detective Bell had been happy enough to let me take photos of the documents. A couple of the familiar names I contacted immediately. One was an old high school friend of Flynn’s who didn’t like me much and had even beaten me up a couple of times. He was working at Mercy Medical Center near downtown, in their billing department. I didn’t tell him who I was, only I was an old friend of Flynn’s, in town after I heard of his death. I mentioned Flynn owed me money, and that immediately got his attention. So we would meet in the cafeteria of the hospital.
I walked in, searched the room, and saw Burke. He had not changed much through the years, still round in body and face, about thirty pounds overweight for his 5’10” height. He was wearing a short-sleeved, white dress shirt and a horribly-colored striped tie. He didn’t at first recognize me but, when I sat down and our eyes met, his face lit up with surprise.
“Damn, it’s Jarvis Mann,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “The puny kid has grown up.”
“Been a long time, Burke,” I said.
It had been many years since I’d seen Burke. Probably the last time was at the end of his fist. The urge to slap him around was there, but I resisted, for I needed information. Of course, if he wasn’t forthcoming, it was always an option.
“Too bad about Flynn. I was real sorry to hear about him.”
“Didn’t see you at the funeral,” I said.
“No time to take off and couldn’t afford to lose a day of pay. I would have been, otherwise. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to talk.”
“Well, I’m meeting someone for lunch, so it will have to be quick. Should be along any time now.”
“Already here. I’m the one who called you.”
“Why didn’t you say it was you?”
“Wasn’t sure you’d see me.”
He shrugged.
“Need to ask you about the money you invested with Flynn.”
“What money?”
“Come on, Burke. I’m a detective now, so I know a lot. It appeared you gave him money to invest and it was all lost. Maybe why you can’t afford to take a day off for the funeral of your old friend. Or maybe you are still pissed at him for losing your savings.”
He started to get up, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, his plate crashing down, making a loud noise that turned heads.
“You aren’t leaving until you tell me what I want to know.”
“You think you can stop me?”
“We aren’t kids anymore. You aren’t bigger than me or tougher.”
I punched him in the bicep, putting a lot of snap into it, and causing his arm to go numb from the blow. He started rubbing his arm and flexing his fingers from the pain.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Burke said.
“I felt like I owed you one from the past. Now are you going to sit and talk with me?”
“Sure, sure. What do you want to know?”
“How much did you invest with Flynn?”
He continued flexing his arm and took his cold can of soda and pressed it against his skin.
“Eight thousand. Pretty much all I had. They promised a twenty-five percent return.”
“Did you see any of it back?”
“I got a couple of dividend checks the first two months after I invested. Both five hundred dollars. Flynn said to invest it back in again, so I did. Nothing more thereafter. I trusted the SOB and paid for it.”
“So, were you mad at Flynn?”
“Hell yes, I was! I called him over, and over but he said to be patient. Then told me a few months back the money was lost on a bad deal. No way to get it back. I was furious. Even came to his work and threatened to punch his lights out. He told me he’d lost all his money as well, though he was working on a grand plan to get it back. I didn’t hear anything from him after that. Been trying to dig myself out of the hole ever since. Girlfriend threw me out a month or so ago, saying I was a bum.”
I wanted to feel sorry for him but couldn’t, the long ago memories of him punching me fresh on my mind.
“So you are a detective. Are you working on his murder?”
“Yes.”
“So am I a suspect?”
“Not in my mind. I can’t see you killing him in the manner he died. Though an Urbandale female Detective, Toni Bell, may be calling you to talk. Tell her the truth and don’t be a dick, and you’ll be fine.”
“Sure, sure. Can I go now?”
“Yes. Remember what I said.”
I didn’t hold out any hope of him acting as an adult and treating her with respect, but I knew if he did something stupid she’d haul his ass in. I talked with a couple of other people in person who were on the list and all had pretty much the same story. Others I contacted by phone, and at the end of the day I counted over a hundred thousand in lost investments. This on top of what Flynn had lost made for a big payday for someone. Each had made a check out to Bank On It Returns. I called Agent Wilson at his office and asked what he knew about them.
“Yes, they are still around. Most of the money went to investments in businesses which didn’t pan out, or so they say. Yet others, like Gabriel and his brother, their investments always paid off. They’d lose a little here and there, enough so no one got overly suspicious. Points to a few other high rollers, as I told you before, who did well to keep the illusion going. They have enough money flowing through, coming from sources unknown. This is what we were trying to track down and what Flynn thought he’d found. Have you located the evidence he had?”
“No. Still putting all the pieces together and learning where the money he invested came from. Apparently, he had his own group, and not one of them got any return of any kind.”
“It’s quite a scam. The question is will anyone testify?”
“Testify to what? Like you said, there was a risk and they lost, like many investors do every day.”
“Why we need the proof your brother found.”
I couldn’t argue the point any more. I had to end the call with Wilson because my other phone was ringing. It was Rocky and he didn’t sound pleased.
“I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes outside the school and Jolene hasn’t shown yet,” he said.
“Have you tried calling her?”
There was a long pause, since it was a stupid inquiry.
“I withdraw the question,” I said.
“Good thing. Goes straight to voicemail.”
I nearly asked if he went into the school to look for her, but knew it wasn’t an option, as his presence would likely scare everyone inside.
“Wait there in case she shows. I’m only about ten minutes away.”
I hopped into the car and drove as quickly as I could, worrying and wondering what the hell could have happened to her.
Chapter 35
I wasn’t ready to call Helen yet. I didn’t want her to panic. When I arrived, I pulled up to Rocky in the Mustang. There was still no sign of her. I rushed into the school to check with admissions
and, after arguing with them for a few minutes and showing them my PI ID, they checked and she was at all of her classes except for the last one. So the question was, what happened to her? I told Rocky to head back to the house in case she showed up there while I went to pick up Helen. When she came out to the car and I told her to not get upset, she did anyway.
“Oh my!” she yelled out. “You said she would be safe at school.”
“She was. There is no reason to jump the gun on this. We need to think through where she could have gone. It could be of her own doing. I’m certain she was getting stir-crazy having to stay at home. What about girlfriends?”
“Well, she does have one girl friend, Kristen. I don’t have her number, since I’m using this other phone. We can go home and get it.”
“What about her boyfriend?”
“She said they broke up.”
“Didn’t seem all that upset about it. Could be she wasn’t being completely truthful.”
“You are right. Not outside the realm of possibility. I know where he lives and it’s not far from here. Let’s go there and see if he is home.”
When we arrived, we rang the doorbell and his mother answered. She knew Helen and didn’t seem happy to see her.
“I don’t want you around here,” she said.
“Bev, is Andrew home?” asked Helen.
“No. Now please leave.”
She tried to close the door, but I prevented it by leaning my shoulder into it. She wasn’t strong enough to push it.
“Who the hell are you?” Bev said.
“Uncle of Jolene, who is missing. Could she be with Andrew?”
“Of course not. I told him to stop seeing her.”
“Gee, and he always does what you tell him?”
She stopped for a minute before answering.
“Usually. Of course, Jolene could twist him to go against my wishes.”
Helen was not pleased with the comment.
“Look Bev, I don’t have time to argue with you,” stated Helen. “Jolene is missing. She may or may not be in danger, but if she is with Andrew, he is in danger as well. Can you please let us in and try calling him?”