“For the moment—the note is pretty self explanatory, Andy. He knew we were after him for the murders of Monte and Kelshaw for starters. I think the note is a clear admission, not to mention the GCI thing. By all means, Andrew, talk to Carr about GCI, but,” he paused, “Not until the Seattle PD are done with our questions. Right now I want to focus on the suicide of Lyle Ramsey and put that to bed. Is that okay with you, Andrew?” Jim asked with light sarcasm.
“Sure, Jim, I’ll give you the weekend and then I want him on Monday. Right now I’d better call the story in to the Times. Ramsey’s suicide will be headlines tomorrow.”
Chapter 20
Saturday October 4, 1980
Neil heard Andrew Kincaid’s voice on the early morning call he had initiated. “Good morning, Andrew, I apologize for not getting back to you yesterday. First of all I want to thank you for your persistence regarding Aunt Martha’s luggage—there was a great deal more information George wanted us to have.”
“Did it nail Coleman?”
“In a way, Andrew, but not in the way that I had anticipated,” Neil said guardedly. “We had an unexpected discovery; one of our contacts was able to conclude the final chapter in the Thayer Chernakov story. I will fill you in when I return to Seattle in a few days. What was the purpose of your call yesterday?”
“Things have changed radically since I placed the call to you yesterday. The wire services probably already have the news, Neil; Lyle Ramsey was found dead in his office last night. The police think it was suicide—he left a note that talked about his ‘serious errors in judgment’ in relation to GCI.
“Its funny, Neil, Jim Savalza and I went to see Ramsey midday yesterday. Jim openly accused Ramsey of the murders of Maxwell and Kelshaw. Then I hit Ramsey with the suggestion of an interview with him and Harrison Carr regarding GCI. Neil, did you know that Harrison Carr is on GCI’s International Board of Directors?”
Yes, Andrew, after we examined the film in Aunt Martha’s luggage there was the description of the entire GCI family. How did you learn about it?”
“Never underestimate the resources of the news industry, Neil.”
“All right Andrew, I’ll take your word for it. So Ramsey committed suicide, hmnn, I’ll have to digest this in light of what we’ve already learned. On another subject, how is Charlene Thayer?”
“She’s great! The bandages are gone and she can see just fine. Thanks for asking, I’ll tell her. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you here,” Andrew offered.
“It’s good news about Charlene. Yes, I will; I’ll be in touch,” he said ending the call abruptly.
✽✽✽
10:30 AM
Olivia Coleman had said goodbye to her parents at the airport in Philadelphia where she had gone after George Kelshaw’s funeral. Her heart was heavy—she had not shared with them the difficulties in hers and Brad’s marriage. She found it almost unbearable to pretend that all was well.
Her mother sensed the unrest in their daughter and told Clyde as they drove away from the terminal that she thought Brad’s military obligations were taking their toll on the marriage. Her husband nodded in agreement for he too sensed the change in Olivia.
It was 10:30 Saturday morning when Olivia rang the doorbell at the Convent of St. Helena. She had arrived in Seattle late on Friday and had taken a room for the night in preparation for her reunion with Charlene Thayer. She knew it would be bittersweet.
The door opened and a round bodied, blue and white garbed nun greeted her.
“You must be Sister Ruth,” Olivia guessed. “I am Olivia Coleman and I spoke with you the other day.”
“Sister Ruth smiled at the lovely dark haired woman in front of her and said, “Yes, indeed I am and welcome! Do come in and I will tell Charlene that you are here.”
Hurrying up the stairs, Ruth tapped lightly on Charlene’s door, “There’s someone downstairs to see you in the parlor, dear.”
✽✽✽
Andrew and Harry Browne were putting the finishing touches on the first part of the GCI story for the Sunday Times. Stories about GCI would ultimately occupy the nation’s news media for months to come.
The headline for the Sunday business page was ‘When Business Isn’t Good for any Country,’ By Harry Browne with Andrew Kincaid. The article began: ‘Exposing the dark side, indeed the malevolent side of business is not generally what this column does. And it isn’t often that a major international business that is thought of in terms of almost holy, large scale humanitarianism becomes the subject of this column, that is, not until today.
GCI or Global Construction International has always been controversial in international business circles. The determination of its leadership has left little doubt in anyone’s mind that GCI would do whatever GCI was contracted to do regardless of political climates, blockades, piracy or embargoes.
The GCI approach to attending to some of the world’s most devastating calamities has been to offer immediate humanitarian aid and reconstruction while world governments wrung their hands and argued over who would do what and where. The corporation has remained largely impervious to outside criticism from world governments and corporations due to its well connected international Board of Directors. This powerful group of twelve nations’ representatives, including the United States, has insulated GCI and its Swiss CEO international banker, Karel Schneiderman, from any and all attacks.
But beneath the beating heart of GCI humanitarianism there is a much darker element one that most world governments and representatives are being called upon to excise; that is the use of prisoners of war, some Americans, as slave labor in Southeast Asia.
The column continued outlining the shocking practice and the world areas where it was happening...Andrew and Harry concluded the piece and sent it forward to Joe Belmont, the editor-in-chief for final approval.
Andy yawned and looked at Harry, “Well my friend, you got your story, now let’s see what happens. By doing a three part series the dust can settle in between. I’m going home and actually put my feet up.”
Harry nodded agreement, “I’ll stick around for awhile...it will be interesting to see what happens now. You know we stepped on a few toes in our ‘sensitive text’,” he laughed then more seriously stated, “I guess from what you’ve told me, Andy, this is only the tip of the iceberg.”
“There will be more, Harry and there will probably be repercussions.”
Chapter 21
Sunday morning
October 5, 1980
It was 7:30 AM when Andrew opened his apartment door collected the Times and made coffee before sitting down with the Sunday paper. Andrew scanned the Sunday Times for his and Harry Browne’s Headline story the first of three articles on the expose of Global Construction International. It wasn’t there—Andrew went through the paper three times to no avail. As he reached for the phone it rang, “Andy, its Harry...”
“Harry where’s our story?” Andrew exclaimed.
“They killed it, Andy!” Harry sounded sick.
“What do you mean they killed it, Harry?”
“I mean the managing editor and the publisher—it was too inflammatory—that’s what they said.”
“Since when does a newspaper worry about a story being too inflammatory if it’s the truth?” Andrew remonstrated.
“Don’t ask me, Andy; we didn’t attack the Pope, I think we might have gotten away with that. There’s something rotten here, Andy, I can smell it!”
“You’re right, Harry; there is something very wrong, I think we’ve learned a lesson about power in this town. Someone has put the squeeze on, but I’m not going to deal with right it now. I’m going to pick up someone for Church.”
“Good; better say a prayer for us too, Andy; we’re going to need it!”
✽✽✽
Andrew met Olivia Coleman when he arrived at the Convent to pick up Charlene and accompany her to St. Mark’s. He noted that the two friends were happy and comfortable in each other�
��s company, putting to rest his concern that Olivia’s visit might be stressful for Charlene given her encounter with Brad Coleman. In fact, watching them together he was thinking there was an element of wholeness brought about by their friendship.
Sitting quietly in the pew in the Cathedral, Andrew gave thanks that Charlene could really see Olivia. He thought about the women sitting next to him; Olivia Coleman reflected the quality of person that Charlene had described in Paul Thayer. It was that elusive substance that was the determining factor between the life of Brad Coleman and the exemplary life of Paul Thayer. Andrew understood their friendship.
Following the service Andrew said cheerfully, “I took the liberty of making a reservation for lunch at Ray’s Boat House and I asked father Ben to join us. He’ll meet us at the restaurant.”
When they arrived Father Ben was waiting for them and greeted them warmly saying to Charlene, “I assume this lady is your friend Olivia Coleman.”
Olivia smiled, “That’s right, I am,” extending her hand to Ben.
Seated at the table Father Ben looked at Andrew, “I understand from yesterday’s paper that Lyle Ramsey was found dead in his office. Is that why Jim Savalza called you and you left us so suddenly on Friday evening?” Then turning to Charlene and Olivia he said, “Forgive me, I am sorry to bring up such an unpleasant subject.”
Olivia gasped, “Dead--Lyle Ramsey of Ramsey and Carr-how?”
Andrew looked at her in surprise, “You knew Lyle Ramsey?”
“Yes, in a way; my husband worked very closely with Mr. Ramsey. We met a few times at social gatherings when he would visit Washington.”
Andrew looked at Charlene before responding, “He committed suicide, Olivia, I’m sorry,” he said with regret.
It was Charlene’s turn at surprise, “Andy, why did Jim call you?”
“Charlene,” he said uncomfortably, “Jim and I met with Ramsey earlier in the day on another matter—I can’t say anymore. I was there as a journalist seeking an interview. Remember I work for a newspaper, and as I said I can’t say anymore.”
She wouldn’t let go, “Andrew did yours and Jim’s visit have anything to do with George Kelshaw?”
“George Kelshaw?” Olivia’s hand went over her mouth, “I was at his funeral last Wednesday, with his father and his sister. Did you all know George Kelshaw?” she asked looking at Charlene, Andrew and Father Ben.
Andrew’s eyes were focused on Father Ben who would not return his gaze and busied himself with the menu and drinking his water. Finally looking up, he sheepishly met Andrew’s eyes whose expression was clear, “You got us into this, now what?”
Olivia came to the rescue by saying. “I would like to read the article if possible.”
“Sure,” Andrew nodded, “I’ll get a copy to you.”
Once again Ben avoided Andrew’s eyes as he asked Olivia, “Were you a close friend of Mr. Kelshaw’s family?”
Olivia answered, “In a way, Father Ben, old doctor Kelshaw, George’s father is a neighbor and a friend. He asked if I would accompany him to the service. He is a wonderful person, as is his daughter, George’s sister, Myra.”
Andrew was silently thinking, “Coleman had said he didn’t know George Kelshaw, but his wife would accompany Kelshaw’s father to his funeral, what a rat!” Andrew changed the subject. Looking at Ben he stated, “This is too nice a day to dwell on all this bad news, don’t you agree, Ben?” he said pointedly.
They finished lunch on a lighter note and then Andrew drove them back to the convent, stopping first to get a copy of Saturday’s paper for Olivia.
Charlene could tell that Andrew was somewhat unsettled and walked back to the car as he was leaving. “Andy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you at the restaurant by prying,” she said contritely.
He put his arms around her and held her briefly. “It’s not anything you said or did, Charlie, I’ve got a lot on my mind; I will talk it over with you later, but not now. It hasn’t crystallized yet. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” she said, “Sometimes there’s just too much... to talk about.”
“That’s it, I’ll call you later. I love you,” he almost whispered.
✽✽✽
The phone was ringing in the Coleman’s Virginia home.
Brad Coleman instructed his housekeeper, “I don’t want to talk with anyone, Mrs. Ridgeway...”
“But General, it’s Mrs. Coleman.”
Brad grabbed the phone from Mrs. Ridgeway’s hand—“Olivia is it really you?”
“Yes, Brad, I have some very bad news, I wanted to tell you before you read it in the papers...Lyle Ramsey is dead. It is thought that he committed suicide. Brad, I’m coming home, I want to be there with you. I’ll leave tomorrow,” her voice was warm and sympathetic.
“Livy, thank God! I really need you my dear,” he was dazed as he hung up. The news about Ramsey was stunning.
✽✽✽
Olivia and Charlene spent Sunday evening in sobering conversation. Olivia shared her sadness at the change in hers and Brad’s relationship. She told Charlene about Brad’s affair with Lia and that she had forgiven Brad, but other things had cropped up. Intuitively, she knew he was in deep trouble.
Charlene took her friend’s two hands in hers, “Livy, do you really want to go back to Brad now?”
“I have to, Charlene; Brad probably needs me now more than ever and remember the vow, ‘for better or for worse’ well I’ve been through a lot of the ‘better’ so now I will stand with him in the ‘worse’ for his sake and for our daughter Maureen’s as well.”
“I understand Olivia, and I want you to know that I’ll stand with you. Please let’s not lose each other again!”
Chapter 22
Monday, October 6, 1980
Harrison was in his office at Ramsey and Carr early on Monday. A wreath with a black bow had been placed in the lobby near the firm’s elevator and stood as a mute reminder of the death of Lyle Ramsey.
When Andrew Kincaid arrived he was met by Connie Porter whose swollen eyes matched the somber mood of the surroundings.
“I’m here to see Mr. Carr, Miss Porter,” Andrew spoke as tactfully as his mission would allow.
“You came at a very bad time, Mr. Kincaid,” her voice breaking. “The firm is closed until...” she didn’t finish.
Andrew could see that Connie Porter was suffering intense grief and he suspected that Connie had been in love with Lyle Ramsey. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Miss Porter,” Andrew said gently, “I was here with the police on Friday night and I spoke briefly with Mr. Carr; I would like to see him to clarify a couple of things. It won’t take long, I promise,” he assured her.
Harrison Carr was at his desk behind a stack of files as Andrew entered the office. Looking up he demanded, “How did you get in here? The firm is closed today, Mr. Kincaid.”
“I just came up to see you, Mr. Carr, not for any legal business. I realize this is a very difficult time for you, but I also see that you have decided the best antidote for grief is work,” Andrew stated.
Carr looked at Kincaid, pondering as Andrew continued, “Were you aware that Detective Savalza and I met with Lyle Ramsey on Friday...did he tell you?”
“I did know, I don’t remember who told me, whether Lyle told me or one of the secretaries mentioned it. I assume it was a personal matter, Mr. Kincaid.”
Andrew shook his head, “No; I believe that Detective Savalza told your receptionist and Lyle Ramsey’s secretary, Miss Porter, that he was here on police business.”
Carr was impatient, “I wouldn’t know about that, Mr. Kincaid. Lyle has, ah had his own practice; he often saw people on ‘police business’ it was routine—why would that be of particular interest to me?
“I’m trying to recover from the tragic death of a man who was like a son to me, because of my relationship to his father, more than a son. The loss of this alone to our firm is staggering. So I will ask you to state your business and leave. As you mi
ght guess from this stack of files on my desk, I have a great deal of work to do.”
“I only have a couple of questions, Mr. Carr,” Andrew persisted, “I know that you are on the Board of Directors for Global Construction International and I also know that there was a connection between Lyle Ramsey and General Bradley Coleman. I’m certain that you know what that connection was.”
Carr regarded Andrew briefly, “I can only tell you that GCI was and is a client of Ramsey & Carr. I’m sure you know that we are bound by a code of ethics and cannot, nor will we divulge to you or anyone else, the nature of their business with us.
“As for my position on the Board of Directors of GCI, I consider it a privilege to serve on the board of such a prestigious corporation,” Carr replied modestly.
Andrew tried another approach, “Mr. Carr did you know that based on a growing body of evidence, Detective Savalza accused Lyle Ramsey of being involved in the death of Seattle Police Detective Monte Maxwell and ex-POW, CIA agent George Kelshaw?”
“I am happy to say, Mr. Kincaid, I know nothing of such calumny. Now if you will leave my office I believe we are finished.”
Andrew walked toward the office door he noted a photograph of Harrison Carr standing next to a man identified as Karel Schneiderman; they were both dressed in hunting vests and holding rifles. The photo rested beside a small plaque, an award given at a GCI European rifle event. It stopped Andrew momentarily and he whirled around and looking at the elderly Carr; “It was because of GCI! You killed him didn’t you?” the words fell out of Andrew’s mouth. It was foolhardy, but he knew he was right. “You did it and it was a perfect suicide. I don’t know how you got him to write the note..., I told Savalza you were tough...I just didn’t know how tough,” Andrew marveled in appalling fascination.
Carr was looking at him, studying him, he hadn’t flinched, chin resting in the ‘cats cradle’ of his hands; for an instant a brief knowing smile played at the corner of his mouth, “Close the door, Mr. Kincaid.”
While Rome Was Sleeping Page 44