“This is Clayton Crawford, contacting detective Richards. Tell him I have Melvyn Howard with me. Tell him I am on my way to the Senator’s lodge. Tell him Lester Howard paid Howie to ditch Michelle’s body and I have the proof with me. Lester killed Michelle and the Senator had a part in it. Tell Richards to meet me at the Senator’s hunting lodge, as I am on my way there right now.” And he hung up.
Chapter 34
As Clayton and Howie were careening down the mountain roads, the Senator was having a cool drink and watching a reality show on TV. He glanced up and saw Lester standing in the doorway.
“What the hell are you doing here at this hour? We agreed not to meet like this anymore. It’s just too damn dangerous.”
“I couldn’t stay away. I haven’t seen you for almost a week, other than at the office. Besides, no one saw me. I was very careful.”
“I don’t care. You shouldn’t be here. Can’t you get it through your head? We both agreed to stay away from each other as much as possible.”
“Sure, so you can go whoring around whenever you want. Well I won’t have it. I made you Paul, and don’t you dare turn your back on me now. I cleaned you up, and dressed you for your role in government. I even tutored you and groomed you, just so. I showed you everything that it takes to survive in the world of politics. Now you say I can’t even grace your presence? Why, do you have a woman here, or something? Where is she Paul? Upstairs, maybe? That’s it, you got yourself another trollop. A whore, just like Michelle, is that it?”
“You’re mad, absolutely certifiable, Lester, and I won’t even dignify that with an answer. Now I think it’s time you left and stop causing a scene.”
“It’s not going to be that easy Paul,” Lester said, his voice suddenly very calm. “I killed them. You know, so many I’ve lost count.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“Do you really think that was just a boating accident? Don’t be silly Paul. I had a trusted friend of mine rig it, so that the gas would seep into the bilge and then… boom, your first wife was gone.”
“Are you crazy? You don’t know what you’re saying. I don’t want to hear any of this. I am ordering you out of this house!”
“Then there was your second wife in the heart attack. She already had a history of heart disease. So that made it even easier. Remember Paul? There was no reason for an autopsy, was there?”
Paul Harding stood gaping at his aid, his mouth open, as if dumbstruck. Not believing what he was hearing.
“Yes Paul, then there was Michelle, I did her as well. They all were no good for you, they would have held you back from your political potential.”
“Michelle was nothing to me, only a toy to play with. My God, Lester, don’t you realize what you’re saying?”
“I had no choice. Don’t you see, she knew about us. I could tell by her actions. She could ruin everything. She was just a plant to spy on us and you knew it from beginning. Always hanging around, watching every move we made. Yes, I did her to, and Driscoll also, and tonight, we can add Mr. Clayton Crawford to our list.”
“What do you mean, we? I want nothing to do with this. You’re stark raving mad! My God, do you realize what you’ve done to me? You are the one who ruined everything. You may as well kill me, because you can’t do anymore harm to me other than that. I’m calling the police. Lester you need help, I’ll have no part of this.”
“No you don’t. I’ve done this all for you, and now you have the nerve to turn on me? You told me yourself to get rid of Crawford. Make him go away. Well, that’s what I did.”
“I never meant for you to kill the man.”
“What did you think, that he was just going to go away? That was his wife that went off the cliff that night.”
The senator walked to his desk and picked up the phone. “You better leave now, Lester. I’ll help you all I can, but this is too much.” He suddenly looked down at the bright red stain that was spreading across his new silk shirt.
“Lester,” he said, in a surprised voice.
The second shot staggered him backwards a step or two. There was no amount of pain to speak, just a dull ache in his chest. Then his knees got too weak to carry his weight, and when the third shot rang out, he crumpled to the floor.
Lester stood, not 8 feet away from the Senator, the 22 semi-automatic still smoking in his hand, the tears streaming down his face. He slowly walked over to his dying lover and knelt beside him, cradling his head in his arms.
As Clayton disconnected from his call, he saw the distant glow of headlights coming toward him from the direction of the Wellington estate. It was Frank coming on strong, like there was no tomorrow. He saw Clayton at the side of the road, he slowed and pulled over.
“What happened, you have a wreck?”
“Not really Frank, it’s those two guns we were discussing earlier.”
“You need any help? Where are they?”
“One went off the side of the mountain and the other I have in the trunk. It’s a good safe place for him. Where are you off to?”
“I’ll give you one guess,” Frank answered and pulled away, his tires squealing and burning rubber. He fishtailed a slightly, then straightened out, and was gone.
Damn! Clayton said to himself, as he jumped back in his car, but in his haste to start the thing, he flooded the motor. It took five precious minutes before he finally got it started. Then he too, took off, with his tires screaming and rubber burning down the mountain road. Howie was in the trunk being tossed around like a ping pong ball.
As he wheeled into the Senator’s drive, he saw Frank’s truck parked up ahead and slammed on his brakes. His car skidded on the loose gravel. He hopped from his seat and hurried up the steps. The front door stood open, and as he cautiously approached, he could hear someone crying from within. When he peered inside, he saw Frank leaning sideways against the entry wall, a gun in his hand. Clayton came up beside him, and without a word took the gun from his friend. There was no resistance.
“You didn’t do that, did you Frank?”
“No, they were like this when I got here.”
“Cops are on the way. I called them already.”
“The 911 operator is on the line. I can hear her from here. She’s on the desk phone. It won’t be long now.” Frank added.
Lester just now notice the two men standing in the entryway. Still crying, he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. His gun was now plainly in sight.
“Give me the gun Lester,” Clayton said as he took a step into the room.
“He could have been President. He could’ve gone all the way.” Lester said in a halting voice, choked with emotion and grief.
“Give me the gun Lester, it’s all over now. Stanley is dead and I have Howie in a safe place. Give me the gun.”
Lester, still sobbing ,started rocking his dead lover in his arms. “Oh, Paul, oh, Pau,l why? Why couldn’t I have been enough. Why couldn’t you love me like I loved you? Oh, God, why, why.”
“Lester, it’s all over now. No need for any more bloodshed.” Clayton said, as he took a few steps closer.
“I killed him, you know.” Lester continued, still rocking the dead Senator, his breath coming between sobs. “I killed them all. I did everything for him. And now he’s dead. All his tomorrows are gone. Oh God, my God, help me,” he shouted, raising the pistol to his head. He pulled the trigger.
A little while later Richards arrived with the rest of the team. With all the police cars, ambulances and fire trucks parked helter-skelter at the Senator’s Lodge, you would think it was some kind of morbid convention. Uniformed cops going to and fro, men in white smocks from the coroner’s office bobbing about. The firemen were standing around smoking and joking with the boys in blue.
“You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you kid?” Richards said, as he walked up to Clayton.
“I hate to say it, but I told you so, didn’t I. It all started here and it ended here. Kind of ironic,
isn’t it?”
“Well, when you’re right, you’re right. What can I say? It’s like a murder/suicide to me. Funny, that they were lovers all this time and no one knew it.” That’s why they killed Michelle, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, she must’ve found out somehow. Lester gave her an overdose the night of the party. He then had Howie and Stanley push her and her car off the cliff. With her record of drug use, there wouldn’t be any question about accidental death.
“Her boyfriend started crying wolf, saying she was murdered. So Lester got rid of him, also via Howie and Stanley.”
“Then I came bumbling along and really screwed things up for them. I’m not sure, and you will never be able to prove it now, but I think Lester got rid of the Senator’s first two wives also.”
“How so, what do you mean by that kid?”
“It was something Lester said just before he pulled the trigger. He said and I quote. “I killed them all,” or words to that effect. That’s hardly a quote, I’ll grant you. But it’s close enough.”
“Okay, then give the officer your statement to make things official, and get back with me before you leave.”
Just then Officer Roland walked up, scratching his head. ‘Damn, I keep hearing someone shouting and cursing, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from,”
“That’s the damnedest thing. I heard something too, but I thought I was just hearing things,” Richards said, as he started looking around.
“Oh, that’s just Howie,” Clayton answered.
“That’s right, you got Milton Howard. Well where in the hell is he?”
“In the trunk of my car,” Clayton answered.
“In your trunk? You stuck Howie in the trunk of your car?”
“That’s as safe a place as any.”
“We better get him out of there before he smothers or something.”
“He might be a little messed up. You know. He will probably come up with some far-fetched story about me grabbing him by his hair and smashing his face into the instrument panels on the dashboard, six or seven times. Don’t believe him. It was only five or six times.”
As they neared the back of Clayton’s somewhat dented and banged up car, they could hear Howie shouting and cursing from inside the trunk.
After getting Howie out of the trunk, patching him up and shipping him off to the nearest hospital for more stitches and a closer look at his shoulder, Clayton made a full report for the record. From leaving the Wellington estate to the hair-raising ride down the mountain road, while fighting off Milton Howard and trying to steer the car, avoiding being shoved off the side of some cliff by Stanley, to his arrival at the Senator’s hunting lodge and them, all the rest of it.
It was very late when Clayton and Frank got back to the estate. Clayton, who was exhausted both physically and mentally from the experience that night, decided to spend the night there in the room Frank always kept for him.
The next morning, after a fitful night sleep (he never saw a man blow his brains out before). He took a long, very hot shower, changed into fresh cloths he had left there from before, and joined Frank in the kitchen. Martha was preparing a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, hash browns, toast, coffee and orange juice.
“Martha,” Clayton said, “If I keep eating like this I’m going to weigh a ton before long.”
“It’s good for you, all you crime fighters need a substantial breakfast.”
“Morning, Frank,” Clayton nodded to his ex-father-in-law and friend. “I take it the news is out by now?”
“Martha, I’m by no stretch of the imagination a crime fighter.”
“Yes,” Frank said, as he finished his coffee. “It’s been all over the TV and radio this morning. I knew it would be. You can’t keep the murder-suicide of a US senator and his aid, quiet, it’s too big a story.”
“Well, after breakfast, I better call a couple of people, if I know what’s good for me.”
A week later in the house at the Wilson Arms and Suites, Rachael asked, “What are they going to do with Howie, I hear he made bail?”
“No, he tried, though, but his lawyer couldn’t talk fast enough. He keeps claiming he doesn’t know anyone by the name of Driscoll, but the dumb shit was wearing Driscoll’s watch and when they searched his house, they found a pawn ticket he had for hocking a ring that belong to Driscoll, as well. The pawnbroker I.D’d him in the lineup as the man who sold him the ring, so that about ties everything up. Still, nobody is going to find it difficult getting a murder conviction.”
“Buck, stop.”
“How do you feel about that? I mean knowing he might be able to walk away clean from murdering your wife,” Rachael asked dead serious.
“Buck, lay down somewhere.”
“Well, I’ve done all I can do, the rest is up to the courts. I’m one of the few I know, but I still believe in our legal system. As far as I’m concerned Stanley is dead and gone, and Milton Howard, a.k.a. Howie, is finished also. And now I’ve got to pack, Dink. Henry is on his way over and Frank is sending his car to pick us up.”
“Are you sure about this? You’re not just pulling a fast one, are you?” She asked, as Clayton started packing.
“I’m sure,” he answered and rolled his eyes. “You know all that happened out there. No, Buck, get off the bed, please. First, my vice president disappears, then it turns out that my senior company lawyer murdered the man. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the lawyer turns out to be a pedophile and serial killer, of all things. For crying in the sink, Dink, I only wish I were making it up. No Buck, get down, you can’t help me.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m going to miss you so. You will write me, won’t you? And call me every night?”
“I will write you and call you every night I can,” he answered as he continued packing.
“How long are you going to be gone anyway?”
“I don’t know off hand, a month or two. It is hard to tell. Buck, not now, not my shoes. The thing is, I don’t even know if I can save things out there. The bad publicity alone is enough to send the stocks crashing to the basement. I was planning to expand my company out this way you know, move my home office and everything to the Baltimore area. Well, now that idea is looking better and better.
“Oh,” she said as she handed him a shirt from his drawer. “That sounds like it could be a permanent move. I think that would be totally awesome.”
“Why don’t you come with me? You would like it out there. Trust me on that.”
“I couldn’t get away, my calendar is crammed full of meetings and court dates to the next millennium. Well at least I gave you a good send off last night. Something to remember me by.”
“Dink, you’ve given me a good send off every night this week. I don’t think I am strong enough for another one. Buck stop chewing the chair, will you? I’m going to send you to China one day, see if I don’t.”
Clayton’s phone rang. It was detective Richards. “Yeah Carol, how can I help you? I thought all our business was finished. Please don’t tell me you lost Howie.”
“No, No nothing like that. I am just giving you a heads up. I thought you would appreciate being kept abreast of things.”
“Yes, of course. That’s good of you Carol, and I thank you for your trouble.”
“No trouble at all Clayton. The reason I called was to let you know that Howie wants to make a deal. Say’s he knows where all the bodies are buried. Thought you might want to sit in on the interview.”
“That’s just like that turd to try and weasel out of what’s coming to him. I’d like to hear what he has to say. I’ve got my plane ticket confirmed. Dink is here helping me and Buck pack. Frank and Henry are on their way over to drive me to the airport.”
“Okay then, just thought I’d let you know where we were at in all this mess. If I don’t like what he has to say, he will go to trial for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder and aggravated assault. Being a three-time loser, he will be
put away for the rest of his life. Just remember Clayton, if this does go to trial, you have to come back and testify.”
“No sweat. I’m only going to be gone two or three months anyway. And I know it will at least be a year before a trial takes place. Buck, you better be good. I’m telling you.”
“Right, so have a safe flight, my friend and I’ll keep you informed of the things at this end.” Richards hung the phone up. He just sat at his desk for a moment contemplating his next move. He had three open cases dropped on his desk in the last week. Well heck, he thought to himself, I might just put in my papers call it quits. I got 23 years in this outfit, and that’s plenty enough for anybody. Yes, sir, take the family on a nice long vacation, get to know each other again, if it isn’t too late.
The Crawford Chronicles - Book 1 Page 27