Keeping Promises Can Be Murder: A Lexi Taylor and Ray Jansen Mystery

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Keeping Promises Can Be Murder: A Lexi Taylor and Ray Jansen Mystery Page 7

by Susan Goslak


  “Have you called Carl Logan to tell him that you’ve found William?” I asked.

  “I did call him because I’m afraid that the papers will print that the dead man is William Logan, even though they don’t know that for a fact. I cautioned him that we have no proof yet that the dead man is actually William. I’m meeting him at the morgue in the morning, but he won’t be able to make a positive I.D. unless William has some birthmark that we don’t know about.”

  “I met one of William’s friends today. His name is Toon,” said Ray.

  “Toon? What kind of a name is Toon?” I asked.

  “They call him that because he likes to watch cartoons.”

  “Oh, that’s a cute knickname,” I said.

  “He was holding a cute little kitten. I promised him that I’d find William’s killer.”

  “Oh, Ray, should you have done that?” I asked.

  “Well, I actually said that I’d do my best to find William’s killer.”

  “That’s a technicality isn’t it?” I asked.

  “I suppose, but I really do intend to do my best to find William’s killer. That is if the dead body is William. We’ll have to wait for the coroner to tell us.”

  “Waiting is a hard thing to do,” I said.

  “That it is,” agreed Ray as he held up his empty bowl for seconds.

  « Chapter Twelve »

  It was raining on Friday morning when Ray met Carl at the morgue. Carl was visibly upset. “Mr. Jansen, this is just horrible.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m sorry, Mr. Logan. I’m so sorry that your search for your brother has ended in such a sad way, but please remember that we have not made a positive identification yet. There’s a chance that this man might not be William after all.”

  “I want to see the body,” declared Carl.

  At that moment Dr. Melrose, the coroner, entered. He introduced himself and said, “Mr. Logan, seeing a dead body can be shocking. You don’t need to do this. The face is so distorted that you won’t be able to identify him that way. Did William have any unusual birthmarks or tattoos?’

  “No, he didn’t. I know that I won’t be able to make a positive identification, but I just feel that I have to see the body.” He took a deep breath, “Please.”

  “Mr. Logan, we’ve been unable to determine the identity of the dead body by using his fingerprints because they aren’t in any

  known data base. Neither are your brother’s prints,” said Dr. Melrose. “We’ll take a DNA sample from you and compare it with the dead man. If you’re brothers we’ll know.”

  After taking a sample from Carl and labeling it, Dr. Melrose opened an adjoining door and indicated that the men could enter. “Right this way,” he said. The room they entered was stark: white walls, gray floor, stainless steel tables. In the center was a table draped with a white cloth. Carl approached the table. Ray stood behind him in case he fainted.

  Dr. Melrose spoke, “You don’t have to look.”

  Carl spoke, “I want to.”

  Dr. Melrose gently pulled the cover back. The sight of the victim’s face was grizzly. Carl gasped and began to shake. Ray put his arms under Carl’s elbows for support. Carl didn’t even realize that Ray was touching him. Ray guided him out of the room and sat him on a bench in the hall. He got Carl a glass of water and helped him hold the glass because his hand was shaking so violently.

  “That can’t be William. That just can’t be my brother.” Tears ran down his face and he shuddered as he ran his hands through his hair. “How could anyone do that to a human being?”

  Ray handed him a box of tissues. Carl wiped his face, took another drink of water and visibly pulled himself together. “You warned me,” he said. He put his hand on Ray’s arm. “Please, Mr. Jansen, please find out if that really is William.” He paused, then spoke with a voice full of malice, “And if it is William, find his killer.” With that said Carl got up and strode angrily out of the building.

  Ray said good bye to Dr. Melrose and went back to his office. I could tell that he was in a bad mood when he threw his coat on a chair and began to pace. I knew better than to interrupt him. He gets short tempered if you interrupt him when he’s thinking. Sometimes I do it anyway, though, but not today. Today I was busy screening the calls that had come in about William. People were beginning to notice the news releases that we’d given to the media. Our receptionist, Julie, and I took the information that the callers gave us and their contact information so we could call them back if necessary. When we had time we called them back. If a man called claiming to actually be William, I asked him to describe the birthmark he had on his left hip. When the man began to describe it, I thanked him for calling and drew a line through his name on the list. I remembered that Carl Logan had told us that William had no identifying marks of any kind, so I devised that plan for quickly eliminating the callers who hoped to cash in on William’s money.

  I’d never done anything like this before and I was astonished by some of the calls and sickened by others. One crazy woman called to say that she was holding William hostage. I had to verify the validity of each call so I called the number she left and found that she lived in a half-way house for recovering alcoholics, poor thing. Another caller claimed to be William’s common-law wife. She was unable to put William on the phone to talk to me so I scratched her name off the list.

  At 5 o’clock I stood up and stretched. “Enough of that!” I said aloud.

  Ray was coming out of his office. “Those crank calls can

  really get to you. Don’t put too much time on them. We probably won’t get any good leads from them anyway.”

  Ray reached into his pocket and brought out a package wrapped in shiny silver paper and topped with a blue bow. He showed the package to me. “We don’t want to be late for your birthday party at your sister’s house.”

  “Oh, my gosh! I was so busy that I forgot that today is my birthday. We’re supposed to be there at six. We’d better get going.”

  Ray held the package a little closer to me and grinned. “Don’t you want to see what’s in here?” he teased.

  I smiled and held out my hand. I quickly tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside, on a bed of cotton, lay a beautiful necklace. It was a single pearl with a tiny diamond on each side of it.

  “Oh, Ray, this is beautiful! Thank you so much. It matches the earrings that you gave me for Christmas.”

  Let me put it on for you,” said Ray. He fastened the clip and stood back to look at me. “Gorgeous!”

  I took my compact out of my purse and looked in the mirror so I could see how the necklace looked on me. “It is gorgeous.”

  Ray put both hands on my shoulders and drew me to him. “Oh, you meant the necklace.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Happy birthday, Gorgeous.” He handed me my jacket and said, “Hurry up birthday girl. We’re due at your sister’s in an hour.

  My sister and her husband have been married for five years, six in two months. They live in a two bedroom house with their border collie, Molly. No two houses on their block are the same. Pat and Jack’s house is shaped like a rectangle with the short sides

  horizontal and the long sides vertical. It is clad in oak stained wood siding. Pat has lovingly planted a profusion of flowers in the front and Jack takes meticulous care of the lawn.

  Jack is tall and lean and tan. He has a neatly trimmed beard and longish curly brown hair. Unless he’s going somewhere that requires a suit he wears what we refer to as his “uniform” which consists of blue jeans, a blue cotton shirt and boots. Jack is a chemist working for C. Smithton Inc. They make water purification kits, chemicals for water softeners, and other water related products. Jack travels to various local businesses as well as out of town businesses to test their water and recommend chemicals that will purify it. He was “in uniform” today as he greeted Ray and me at the door. “Happy Birthday, Sue,” he said in his deep voice as he hugged me and shook hands with Ray.

  Pat is a math teacher at
a local elementary school. This is her first year working at that school so she is learning the ropes, making friends there and doing her best to show the principal that she is a good math teacher who should get a four year contract. When we came in the house she was in the living room serving drinks to Diane and her boyfriend, Mike. She gave me a hug and handed me a cosmopolitan. Before she could say anything the doorbell rang. Paul and his wife Cindy entered.

  “Don’t close the door, Jack. Linda and her date are right behind us,” Paul said.

  Everyone exchanged greetings and got the drink of their choice.

  “Look at the cake Pat made,” Diane said.

  The cake was on a side table in the dining room. “Oh it’s beautiful!” I exclaimed. “Did you make it yourself?”

  “I did,” Pat said. “It’s your favorite: white cake with white frosting, and we have cherry vanilla ice cream, too.”

  “Yum! Let’s skip dinner and get right to dessert,” I teased.

  Pat had prepared a delicious dinner that we all enjoyed and after that I opened presents. We had fun playing a party game that Diane had brought.

  When all the guests had gone I thanked Pat and Jack for the wonderful party and Ray drove me to his house.

  “Honey, that sure was a nice party your sister gave you. I know you had a good time. You look so happy.” He gently touched my face. “I wish you could be this happy all the time, but sometimes, when you don’t think anyone is watching, you look so sad.”

  I touched Ray’s face. “When I’m with you I am so happy. I love you, Ray.”

  We kissed and my insides melted. “I love you, too, Lexi. Let me show you how much,” Ray whispered as he picked me up and walked to his bedroom. “Are you ready for another birthday present?” he asked.

  I just smiled at him.

  “Just lie back and let me love you. He caressed and teased until I moaned his name and we joined with trust and love. I can’t remember a more wonderful birthday than that one.

  « Chapter Thirteen »

  On Monday morning I began my work day by calling the next name on my list of people who had called in about William. I dialed the number that Angie Tomlin had given us. ‘Is this Angie Tomlin?” I asked. “My name is Lexi Taylor. I’m calling from the Woods Detective Agency. You called and said that you had some information about William Logan.”

  “Yes, Miss Taylor, I know William. He is a customer at my diner.”

  I figured that this was just another waste of time, but I had to ask, “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Oh, yes, Miss Taylor, I’m sure. He told me his name and he looks like the photo that was on T.V.”

  Probably still a waste of time, but I began to have a little hope. “When was the last time you saw him?” I asked.

  “A few days ago .”Let’s see where this takes me. I thought.

  “Do you expect him in today?” I asked

  “It’s hard to say. He doesn’t come in every day. He only eats breakfast here and he hasn’t come in for breakfast this morning. It’s early, he may come in yet or he might stop by at the end of the day.”

  “Do you happen to know where Mr. Logan lives?” I asked.

  “He’s homeless. He lives in the homeless area near my café,”Angie replied.

  “If William does come in please ask him to stay there. I’m going to send one of our detectives over to speak with you. His name is Ray Jansen. He’ll be there as soon as possible. Will you still be there?”

  “I’ll be waiting for him,” Angie replied.

  I hung up and practically ran to Ray’s office. “Ray I’ve got what sounds like a good lead on William Logan. A restaurant owner named Angie Tomlin called to tell us that he frequents her diner. She says that he’s homeless. I told her you’d be right over to talk to her. Here’s the address,” I said all that in one breath.

  “Whoa, slow down. Tell me that again,” said Ray.

  I did, and he grabbed his jacket and was gone.

  Half an hour later Ray arrived at Angie’s Diner. As he opened the door a little bell tinkled. The diner looked like something out of the seventies: checkered linoleum floor, red vinyl seats on the bar stools and booth seats, and a footed plate of doughnuts with a clear glass cover on the counter. He strode up to the cash register which was also on the counter and greeted Angie, “Are you the woman who called about William Logan?”

  Angie nodded and poured Ray a cup of coffee before he asked for one. “You look like a man who enjoys a good, strong cup of java. I make a good one.” She handed the cup to Ray. “Light up, if you want. No rules here.”

  Ray took a sip of coffee and nodded approvingly, “You do

  make a great cup of coffee,” he agreed. What can you tell me?”

  Angie is a short woman with short brown hair that’s beginning to gray. She’s slightly overweight from eating her own good cooking. She wore no makeup yet her cheeks were rosy from the heat of the kitchen. Her hands are wrinkled and rough from doing so many dishes. She has a pleasant face with a ready smile and sparkling blue eyes. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and motioned to a corner booth. “Let’s sit over there.” She called to her cook, “Watch the counter for a few minutes, Sammy.” Angie poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from Ray. “Tell me why you’re looking for William.”

  Ray explained that William’s brother was looking for him so that he could receive his inheritance and work alongside his brothers in the family business.

  “I just wanted to make sure that William isn’t in any kind of trouble,” Angie said before she told Ray all about her relationship with William.

  Ray listened without interrupting.

  When Angie was finished talking she asked, “Aren’t you going to write anything down?”

  “I’ll remember,” said Ray. He drank the last drop of coffee, set his cup down, and crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table. “I have to be certain of the last time you saw William. You say he came in for breakfast four days ago. That would be Wednesday, the 23rd. Correct?”

  Angie nodded.

  The look Ray gave Angie was one of concern and sympathy.

  “What’s wrong? Tell me!” said Angie.

  “Miss Tomlin, I’m afraid I have, or may have, some bad news for you.”

  Angie just looked at Ray. “May have?”

  “Last Thursday a body was discovered behind the C&G gas station on Palm. The police think that the dead man is William Logan.”

  Angie turned pale and sucked in her breath. “Oh, my God!”

  “The police are unable to make a positive identification. That’s all I can tell you at this time. I’m sorry.”

  “I can positively identify him,” said Angie.

  “I’m sorry, you can’t. His face was badly disfigured. His brother, Carl, gave a DNA sample for identification, but the results aren’t in yet.”

  “Was he hit by a car?” Angie asked.

  “He was murdered.”

  “Murdered!” Angie started to cry. “William was such a nice, kind man. Who would want to murder him?”

  “Take it easy, Miss Tomlin. It may not even be William. Do you know if he had any enemies?”

  Angie couldn’t stop crying. She just shook her head, no. Sammy, and some of the customers came over to her to see what was troubling her. Ray explained the situation to them, passed out his cards and left.

  When Ray returned to the office he found a man waiting in the reception area for him. Julie stood up and pointed to the man and said, Mr. Jansen, this is Mr. Mark Portman from the law firm of

  Johnson, Portman, and Richards. He’s been waiting to speak to you. A young man wearing a three piece suit and holding a briefcase on his lap rose to greet Ray. His mocha colored skin was clean shaven and he wore his hair so short that it was almost a crew cut. He was fit and trim, and looked young enough to Ray that he might have just graduated from high school instead of law school.

  Ray extended his hand toward Mr. Portman and said,
”Hello,

  Mr. Portman. Please come into my office. Would you like something to drink?”

  Mr. Portman settled into Ray’s visitor’s chair and took a sip of the soft drink that Ray had gotten for him and said, “Before you ask, no, I’m not that Portman. That Portman is my father. He’s been with the firm for years. I’m fresh out of law school and I’m doing pro bono work for my client Earl Carter. He gave me your card and asked me to get in touch with you.”

  “Earl Carter? Would he be the young man who goes by the name of ‘Toon’?”

  “That’s correct, Mr. Jansen. He’s been arrested for the murder of William Logan.”

  “What!” Rays voice had an edge of anger to it. “As far as I know the police don’t even know if the body they found was actually

  William. Have they made a positive I.D.?”

  “Not yet,” answered Mark.

  “What evidence do they have?”

  “They found William’s backpack in that box that my client lives in.”

  “Did Toon have an explanation?” Ray asked.

  “Yes, a lame one. He claims that he found it in the park and brought it home for William.”

  “That does sound lame,” agreed Ray. “But it could be the truth. Is that all they have?”

  “They said that the killer strangled the victim with his bare hands and my client has large hands. There were footprints of a size 13 tennis shoe and my client wears size 13 shoes. I think they feel that because he’s homeless he might be dangerous.”

  “Have you met Toon?”

  “Yes, and I don’t think he’d hurt a fly.”

  I agree,” said Ray. “How is he doing in jail?”

  “He seems content. He was worried about his pets, but a man they call Doc is taking care of them and that’s okay with him. At least he has a roof over his head and food to eat.”

  Mark looked earnestly at Ray and continued, “They’re going to railroad this kid if we don’t help him. The D.A. is determined to put this case to rest ASAP. My dad has come up against this guy before and he says that Tony Weber isn’t afraid to stretch the facts to fit his theory of what happened. I want to do my best for Earl Carter, but I need help. Will you help me, Mr. Jansen? I’m afraid you’ll be doing this pro bono like me though.”

 

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