Murder on the Front Nine

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Murder on the Front Nine Page 13

by Steve McMillen


  “What the hell is going on,” Barry says to no one in particular, “Where is the white Highlander?”

  They just look at each other and then Bill finally says, “He switched the tracking device, that no good son-of-a-bitch!”

  “Oh, my god, the plane,” Barry yells out as he turns the van around, squeals the tires and heads back toward the beach.

  “Slow down, we can’t afford to get stopped with all of these weapons in our vehicle,” Bill yells from the passenger seat.

  “Yeah, you’re right, plot me the fastest path to the airport.”

  Paul had no sooner uttered the words, “It’s fun to blow up airplanes,” when he blurts out, “You dumb bastard, why didn’t you just wait until the guys got onto the plane and then made the phone call. Your troubles would then be over and SIL would no longer be chasing you.”

  He decides it is time to change tactics, instead of being on the defense; it is time to go on the offense. He tried to give them a warning in Myrtle Beach by just blowing up the plane; he had not planned for one of them to die. They can’t pay him the money they owe him if they are dead. He set the fire at Mickke D’s office when no one was around and he is guessing no one got hurt. Why can’t they figure out that if they will just pay him what they owe him, he will go away?

  He is going to Charleston and once he gets there, he will plan his attack. He will have several hours of drive time to come up with some ideas. He will consider this as just another assignment and plan everything out to the last detail, except this time he is going to enjoy the kill and not look at it as just another job with a paycheck. The paycheck this time will be freedom, he may even retire. He has more than enough money in bank accounts all over the world to last him for the rest of his life. He can travel and play golf wherever and whenever he wishes.

  Chapter 31: Mickke D

  I sit in the parking lot of the Murrells Inlet Police Station for about ten minutes to make sure I have lost my tail before I go inside. Officer C.A. Bernett meets me at the front desk and asks if she can help me.

  “My name is Mickke MacCandlish and I am supposed to pick up the personal effects of a Rusty McRichards for a company called SIL,” I tell Officer Bernett.

  “Oh sure, I remember getting that call and we checked out SIL, everything seems to be okay. They seem to know people in high places. Wait here and I’ll get them for you.”

  In about five minutes, Officer Bernett returns empty handed and she is with another officer, Dick Smoltz.

  “Mr. MacCandlish, I’m afraid there has been a mix-up here,” Officer Smoltz says. “I was not told about SIL wanting the personal effects, so I gave them to Mr. McRichards’ attorney about a week ago. Do you want me to call the attorney and see if I can get this straightened out?”

  I think about it for a second and then reply to the two officers, “Sounds like a plan to me, I’ll just take a seat and wait.”

  Officer Smoltz leaves but returns in a couple of minutes with the bad news, “Sorry Mr. MacCandlish, he is not answering his phone. Why don’t I make you a copy of his business card and you can call him and if he has any questions, have him call me. Here is my card.”

  I take the copy of the attorney’s card and the officer’s card and leave. I am not sure what to do next.

  As I approach my SUV, I still don’t know what I am going to do. I guess it won’t hurt to call the attorney and see if he will give me the effects. He either will or he won’t and he may be able to give me some information about Rusty.

  I look at the copy of the business card and notice it reads Retired Federal Judge. I’ll bet he knows people in high places also.

  Since there is an address and it’s not far away, I opt to just go over and see if I can find him. It’s harder to say no in person than it is on the phone. I drive to the address on the card.

  It doesn’t take long to figure out the address on the card is not an office address. Retired Judge Thomas Allen Cadium lives in Heritage Plantation, a very upscale part of Pawleys Island. As I pull into the half circle driveway, I’m thinking, nice place, judge.

  As I walk up to Judge Cadium’s front door, I notice two cars parked in the brick paved, circular driveway. One is his because it says THEJUDGE on the license plate but the other one has a Virginia plate. I figure he has company but I proceed to ring the doorbell anyway.

  After a few minutes, I hear someone inside and then a man’s voice asks, “Who is it?”

  I think this is a bit strange unless he is concerned about something or he is hiding something. I answer, “My name is Mickke MacCandlish and I was given your business card by Officer Smoltz at the Murrells Inlet Police Department.”

  The judge unlocks and opens the door. “What can I help you with Mr. MacCandlish?”

  “Please call me Mickke.”

  “And you can call me TC, now what can I help you with Mickke?”

  He seems a little irritated so I get right to my reason for being at his doorstep.

  I answer in what I consider a very investigative voice, “I am doing some leg work for a company investigating a federal case which may involve Rusty McRichards. I was told to go to the Murrells Inlet Police and pick up Mr. McRichard’s belongings and when I got there they told me that they had already given everything to you by mistake.”

  I hand him the business card I received from Officer Smoltz.

  He motions me to follow. “Come in Mickke, I have Rusty’s things out back, follow me.”

  The house is huge; we go through the greatroom, which has eighteen-inch Italian marble tile on the floor. The kitchen has the same tile, just a different shade, and it is almost as large as the greatroom. Very impressive. We go down three steps to a large Carolina room, which opens out into the pool area. The pool is at least thirty by fifty feet long. A screened enclosure covers the entire area of the pool.

  Sitting by the pool on their lounge chairs are two beautiful girls sipping on who knows what and who cares what. They have on itsy, bitsy, teeny, weenie, yellow poke-a-dot bikinis.

  I stop dead in my tracks and TC chuckles, “Mickke, these are the North twins, Lorrie and Maggie.”

  “Hi, Mickke,” they both respond in unison.

  “Hi, girls, please call me Mickke D.”

  “Oh, what a cute name,” one of them says.

  TC touches my shoulder and leads me out to a storage building in the back yard. The entire yard is huge and has a beautiful eight-foot high hedge encompassing the entire back yard. We walk up to the metal out-building, probably purchased at Lowe’s and he relates to me this is where he keeps his lawn equipment. He enjoys taking care of the grass himself. He opens the door, which has no lock, and picks up a large plastic storage container. I think it odd he would put the effects with his lawn paraphernalia, but hey, to each his own.

  “This is all there is Mickke and you are more than welcome to take it all with you, including the container.”

  I gather up the container and say goodbye to the twins. I wonder if they would like my red boxers and refer to me as pops?

  “Nice home, TC.”

  As if he was reading my mind, TC smiles, thanks me and says, “The twins aren’t bad either, are they?”

  “No, sir, they are not.”

  As we approach the front door, he stops and looks me in the eyes, “Mickke D,” and he emphasized the D, “Those twins are not for my pleasure; they are the daughters of my current girlfriend. I let them come over and use the pool whenever they wish and they take care of cleaning the pool and twice a month, they clean the house. They keep the pool much cleaner than they do the house. Also, they make beautiful decorations when I have unexpected company like you pop in.”

  “Actually, I was just getting ready to applaud you for your choice of decorations and ask you what you are taking to keep up with those two fine creatures.”

  “I have a difficult time keeping up with their mother, let alone the two of them.”

  I opt to change the subject before I get myself into tro
uble and besides he is starting to open up a bit. It is time to ask some more case questions.

  “TC, how long had you known Mr. McRichards and where did you meet him?”

  It is always nice to ask two questions at a time, I learned that from watching presidential news briefings on TV.

  “Not long, I only met Rusty one time, in a coffee shop on Pawleys Island. I shared a booth with him and I gave him my card when he told me he was having trouble with the VA. He kept getting the run around from the local VA office in Myrtle Beach. I said the next time they give you a problem, show them this card and tell them I am your personal attorney.”

  This was the story he had dreamed up after getting the call from Officer Smoltz. It is nice to practice saying it aloud.

  “I guess the police found my card on Rusty’s body and called me.”

  “How did Rusty die?” I ask, trying to keep the flow of information moving along.

  “I read in the paper that he was struck by a hit- and-run driver in Murrells Inlet and they have yet to find the person responsible. Why are you asking so many questions? Should I hire an attorney?” He laughs. “And, by the way, what is the federal case Rusty was involved in?”

  “I really don’t know the answer to that question, I’m just the messenger.”

  I think for a minute and then ask, “Why do I get the impression that even though you did not know Rusty that well, his death really bothers you?”

  “Mickke D, it’s just that within the last four to six weeks, two people that I know were both killed and one of them was murdered.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, who was the other person?”

  “Oh, it was a good friend of mine. We spent a lot of time together on my boat looking for sunken treasure. Of course, we never found anything worth very much. He was murdered on Bald Head Island while playing golf.”

  Bingo. TC is the link between Trever Byers, SIL, and Rusty McRichards.

  After a slight hesitation, I say to him, “Sorry for your loss, what happened?”

  “Well, no one is sure except that he was found near one of the tee boxes back in the trees with a hole in his heart. I had driven up there to have lunch with him and I end up finding out he had been killed.”

  “And they don’t have any suspects?” I ask the question even though I am sure I know who the killer is.

  He answers, “No, it’s just like Rusty McRichards death, they know what happened, but they have no idea who did it. I am seriously considering hiring a private investigator to look into my friend’s death. Do you know anyone in the area you might recommend?”

  “Maybe, let me think about that and I will get back to you.”

  I shake hands with him, we exchange business cards, and he says I can call him anytime. I get into the Trailblazer and head north. I like the man, but I sense he didn’t tell me everything.

  Chapter 32: Bambi and Thumper

  (Earlier)

  Two weeks before Barry and Bill make their second trip to Vegas; Barry has Bill gather all of the available newspaper articles about the murder on Bald Head Island. After reading the articles, Barry comes up with one name which he cannot explain. Why had Thomas Allen Cadium gone to Bald Head Island to have lunch with Trever Byers? The articles were very vague about the relationship between Trever Byers and Judge Cadium.

  According to the articles, Judge Cadium is a retired federal judge who lives on Pawleys Island, and the two of them have been friends for about two years. Not much more information is available about him except that he is a widower.

  Barry wants to know more about him and to find out if he knows anything about the missing treasure map. He calls a part-time investigator who has worked for him before. The investigator lives in Virginia Beach and her name is Cindy North.

  Cindy has done a couple of jobs for SIL over the past several years and she will be perfect for this job. She also has two twin daughters who have also been on SIL’s payroll a few times. Barry remembers the twins being as mean as a cornered snake if you ever got them ticked off at you. He had always referred to them as Bambi and Thumper, from an old James Bond movie. The twins didn’t like the nicknames Bambi and Thumper.

  He calls Cindy and tells her he has a job for her and the twins. They are going to Pawleys Island, South Carolina, rent a nice condo for a month or two, and then get up close and personal with Thomas Allen Cadium. He tells her he needs to know what the relationship is between Judge Cadium and a man named Trever Byers. He also warns her that Mr. Cadium is a retired federal judge and that he is no dummy.

  Cindy and the twins agree and take off for Pawleys Island three days later. The family is able to pick up and leave because they all work for a medical billing service and as long as they have a computer, they can work from anywhere. The twins have never been to the Myrtle Beach area and they are looking forward to spending time at the beach and hitting the local clubs.

  Barry is not sure Myrtle Beach is ready for the twins! They can cause a lot of havoc in a very short period of time. They are both black belts and can fire an M-16 with the best man around. When they tell a man no, they mean it. The last time SIL hired them, he had to bail Bambi and Thumper out of jail twice. Thank God they had not killed anyone.

  He tells Cindy to have the twins on their best behavior; he does not want anyone killed or put in the hospital. Cindy says she will keep a close eye on them, but they have slowed down quite a bit in their old age. They were twenty-eight years old on their last birthday.

  Cindy will have no problem doing her job but keeping the twins in check could be another problem. She has a long talk with them before they head south. They promise to avoid any trouble unless someone else starts the trouble first. The only problem with that is that most times trouble follows them around and then usually someone gets hurt. Look out Myrtle Beach; Bambi and Thumper are on their way to your fair city.

  Chapter 33: Barry & Bill

  The airport is just far enough away from the beach that the only people who hear the explosion are Paul and Nick. The black smoke is about the only thing that looks out of place in the area.

  Barry and Bill notice it right away. As they drive into the airport, no one is around, just the smoldering shell of their airplane. They pull up to the office and go inside.

  “Is there anybody here?” Barry calls out.

  They hear a noise behind the counter and notice Nick. Barry goes behind the counter and pulls the duct tape off his mouth but leaves his hands tied behind him.

  “What the hell happened to our plane, Nick? I thought you were supposed to look after it?”

  Nick coughs a few times and then finally answers, “Sorry, guys, a man came in, put a gun to my head and told me if I did not give him the key to your plane, he would kill me.”

  “Did he say anything else?” Barry slowly asks.

  “He said to tell you that your friend said hello. I’m really sorry fellows, I had no choice.”

  Barry turns to Bill and tells him to call 911 on the office phone and tell them someone destroyed their plane and that we found a person dead in the office. Before anyone can blink, Barry pulls out his gun and shoots Nick right between the eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing Barry, have you gone mad?” Bill screams at Barry.

  “Just shut up and get everything out of the van except our golf clubs and hide everything out back in the bushes,” Barry calmly replies. “The police will think Paul killed him. Our story is that we came down here to play golf and somehow he found out and followed us. He had blown up our other plane in Myrtle Beach and killed our partner. We then call the rental company, tell them we need to drive the van back to Virginia, get a room, come back and get the weapons in a few days and head north. We will blame everything on Paul. We’ll stay around and play golf for a few days, how about The Hombre; it looked like a nice course.”

  Bill just shakes his head and goes out to the van to hide the weapons.

  The police and fire trucks arrive in about twenty minutes.
A police detective takes Barry and Bill’s statement. They inform the police about SIL and mention a few high level names. The detective advises them they can leave but to stay in touch in case they are needed later. Barry tells the detective they will be around for a couple more days to finish their golf vacation before heading north.

  Bill is getting very upset with the way Barry has been acting lately. It is almost as if Barry has gone off the deep end and now he has killed Nick for no reason whatsoever. Then all he can think about is playing golf. The man has a problem. He is so obsessed with killing Paul that everything else has taken a back seat. SIL has some very influential clients in Washington. Bill thinks that Barry is afraid that if they find out SIL ordered an assassination, SIL will lose all credibility and the business will fail.

  In addition, the arms deals and the human organ sales have almost completely stopped and the cash flow for SIL is close to zero. Bill wants to get out but he is just not sure how to go about it. Bill realizes Barry can be a very nasty person. He wants to be very careful about what he says and when he says it. In addition, Bill is now a part of two murders, Trever Byers and now Nick at the airport. Although he did not personally pull the trigger, he is still an involved participant. It is time for Bill to make some hard decisions. Does he turn himself in and cut a deal or does he just leave the country and disappear?

  Chapter 34: Mickke D

  As I drive up Route 17 to Little River, my mind is going in several different directions. One direction is the lovely North twins. I wonder if they would refer to me as pops like Paula Ann did but that is just a fleeting thought of days gone by and it does not last very long. After all, I am old enough to be their father or uncle. In addition, I have a funny feeling that the twins are not as innocent as they try to portray. I will surely look into their background the first chance I get. Maybe I can talk Detective Concile into doing a background check on them, but then again maybe Ms. Smiley will tell me to take a hike or worse, yet she may want to know why I want the information. It may depend on how pissed off she is that I lost the tail she put on me.

 

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