told everyone she would defend her marriage and kill anyone who got between her and her husband."
"Well, if Ruth had been killed instead of Mrs. Brown we'd know who did it."
"Right."
"Do you think she could have been so outraged by her husband's continued infidelity that she set the fire? A quadruple murder-suicide, perhaps? She may not have intended to kill everyone, but something could have gone wrong. "
"No. From what I've been told she was a very loving mother and overprotective if anything. She'd never kill her children."
"So, what about Ruth? Does she have an alibi?"
"Yes, she was at work all day and went out with friends for dinner. Besides, she wouldn't have the technical knowhow to wire the fire's triggering device."
"True," I said. "Good point. So, we're back where we started."
"Not exactly. Ruth also told me that there had been other threats against Brown and his family and that he had reported it to management. She doesn't think TI passed the information onto the police, though."
"Probably not. They had enough trouble being behind on the project. So, how did he receive these threats?" I asked.
"In various forms," Bart replied. "Late night hang-ups, blank letters that reeked of smoke, and frequent vandalism—usually messages scratched on his car or burnt into his lawn. Nothing serious, but enough to keep a person on edge."
"Did they ever figure out who was behind the threats?"
"He suspected it was Stout," Bart said.
"Why?"
"Ruth said Stout had tried for months to get him to jump ship and come to work for Almatech, but he refused. He apparently offered Brown a lot of money, but when Brown refused he got belligerent and told him the world was a dangerous place and he should watch his back. It was a thinly veiled threat that Brown clearly understood, but couldn't do anything about."
"I wonder if TI knew about the threats. Sylvester didn't mention it."
"I don’t know, but we need to talk to Chester Brown's co-workers. He may have told them about the threats or they might have seen some of the vandalism. If we're going to try to show reasonable doubt we'll need as many witnesses as we can find."
"I can call Sylvester and arrange it for you, if you want," I said. "I'm sure they'll give you access to anyone who worked with him."
“That would be great.”
That night we went to a local Italian restaurant for dinner. I wasn’t very good company because I was worried about Stan’s trip to Waco. I didn’t know why but I had an ominous feeling about it. I wanted to call Rebekah and warn her about Tehra, but I knew her condition was fragile and didn’t want to make matters worse. Plus, I didn’t know for sure that anything was going on between them.
“More wine, honey?” Bart asked.
“Huh?” I said looking up.
“Wine?” Bart said holding up the bottle.
“Oh, sure. Thanks,” I replied forcing a smile.
“You look distracted. What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath. “Nothing, dear. I just had a long day.”
Bart looked at me warily. I think he knew what was bothering me, but knew better than to press the issue. I smiled. I was lucky to have such a wonderful husband. I certainly didn’t deserve him. Why was I so obsessed with Stan? I just couldn’t stand the thought of him alone with Tehra.
27
Stubborn Opposition
Stan Turner
Rebekah and I got to Waco late Sunday night. We had a good talk on the way there and when we got to our room at the La Quinta Inn we were like a couple of teenagers ripping off each other’s clothes and frantically making love. We had sex again before we went to sleep and again when we awoke. It was the first time we'd been intimate since Peter had disappeared and all the pent-up emotions that had burdened us for so long came out like a raging bull.
On Monday morning Rebekah slept in and I went to the courthouse and filed the chapter 11 petition. Then I swung over to Ben's place to start notifying creditors. In my experience Chapter 11's were usually fairly routine and almost always amicable. The law was fairly clear on what could and could not be done, so the attorneys involved usually would negotiate any issues in good faith and enter into agreed orders routinely. Since Ben and Alice had always enjoyed a good relationship with their creditors and vendors, that's what I had expected in their case, but I was wrong.
Ben had alerted his banker, Tom Stenson, that we'd be calling at 1:00 p.m. but when Ben made the call Stenson refused to talk to us and directed us to his attorney Vernon Hunnicutt. I knew that was a bad sign. When I called Hunnicutt, he laid into me.
"We're going to oppose any cash collateral order. We know what your client is up to."
"What are you talking about? He's not up to anything."
I told him about the embezzlement and ensuing financial problems Ben and Alice had experienced. I assured him the chapter 11 was being filed in good faith.
"What about the offshore bank accounts? I have a witness who claims your client is liquidating our collateral and sending it to an offshore account. What does he plan to do, keep the company in chapter 11 long enough to collect all the receivables and then convert to chapter 7?"
"No, that's ridiculous. Who told you that?"
"One of Ben's ex-employees."
Suddenly I realized what was happening. Ralph Herman had talked to Stenson. I sighed in disgust. Was there no end to this asshole's meddling?
"Let me guess. Ralph Herman?"
Hunnicutt didn't respond. "He's been indicted for embezzlement for godsakes,” I said. “You're surely not going to believe anything he says?"
"He claims to have proof and he's provided us with a lot of details on how it's being done. Unless you can prove that he's wrong we're not going to agree to let your client deplete the bank's collateral."
"You haven't seen any actual proof then?"
"No, but it's been promised to us. We'll have it at the hearing tomorrow."
I hung up frustrated. It was easy to toss out outlandish accusations, but difficult to disprove them. Sure, Ben and Alice could get up and deny everything, but that didn't necessarily prove anything. I needed to know what evidence Ralph was going to produce. I asked Ben if he had any ideas.
"No. I don't have any offshore accounts." He laughed. "Where would I get money to put in them?"
After we'd gotten all the bankruptcy notices in the mail and called everyone that needed immediate notification, I went back to the motel and took Rebekah to lunch. I told her what had happened and the trouble I was expecting at the hearing the following morning.
"How was he able to talk to the banker. Isn’t he in jail pending his trial?" Rebekah asked.
"They let them make phone calls from the jail. I guess being the bookkeeper he knew the banker and just gave him a call. What I can't believe is that Stenson listened to him. It just blows my mind."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"Just plead our case as usual and hope this so-called evidence never materializes. I can't see how Herman could have any records to give the bank. He was supposed to have turned over everything in his possession to the DA after his indictment."
"He must have someone on the outside helping—a relative or friend."
"Possibly. We'll find out soon enough."
After lunch we went back to the motel. Rebekah was ready for more action, but I was in no mood for love making. What I needed was sleep. It had been an exhausting weekend and I needed rest. While Rebekah watched soap operas on TV, I slept. She woke me after the six o'clock news and said she was hungry. Ben and Alice had invited us out for dinner at seven so I just had time to take a shower and get ready before they came to pick us up. They were right on time. We went to the La Fiesta Restaurant and Cantina as they said it was the best Tex-Mex restaurant in Waco.
The place was packed for a Monday night and we waited quite a while to get seated. After we'd ordered and the bartender had delivered each of us a giant ma
rgarita, the topic of discussion inevitably went to Ralph Herman.
"I called my daughter," Alice said. "I told her what her ex-husband was doing to us. She said she thought about putting a bullet through his head on more than one occasion, but never had the guts to actually do it."
Ben chuckled. "She should have said something. I'd of come and given her moral support."
We all laughed. "You didn't happen to ask her about his friends?" I asked. "I'd like to know who's helping him. He's got to have someone on the outside."
"I did," Alice said. "She said his best friend, Ike Eiseman, visits him at least once a week. They were high school buddies and roomed together at Cal State."
"What kind of business is Ike in?" I asked.
"He's an insurance agent—property and casualty mostly. He's got an office in Austin."
"So, how well do you know him?"
"Not too well. My daughter knows him much better. He used to hang around the house a lot when she was married to Ralph ."
"Has he ever been in trouble with the police?" I asked.
"Not to my knowledge, but he's no boy scout. He's been divorced twice and there were allegations of mental cruelty and physical abuse. His last wife had to take out a restraining order to get him to leave her alone."
"They're both right-wing fanatics," Ben added. "They hate Mexicans and Jews."
The more Ben and Alice told me about Ralph and his friend the sicker I became. It was clear we were dealing with intelligent but irrational adversaries. That meant it would be impossible to predict what they would do next. What we needed was an FBI profiler, but unfortunately we didn't have access to anyone with those skills.
As the evening wore on the conversation turned to Peter. Alice felt the need to offer her condolences. Personally I wished she hadn't brought that topic up. Rebekah was finally out of her despair and I didn't want there to be a relapse. She surprised me though, and talked about it freely.
"We were lucky to have Peter. He was a fine boy. I don't know why God chose to take him, but I've got to think he's in a better place."
Tears welled in my eyes as Rebekah talked about Peter. It wasn't fair that Rebekah didn't know the truth. I wondered now that the listening device had been removed from my shoulder and we could talk privately, if I couldn't tell her. How would she react? Would she be able to keep the secret? It would be a dangerous risk, but very rewarding if I could pull it off.
As the night wore on, I got more and more excited about the prospect of telling Rebekah the truth. When Ben and Alice dropped us back at the motel, Rebekah could sense something was up.
"What are you all keyed up about? You planning on getting into my pants again?"
"Why not? We're all alone."
She gave me a wry smile as she opened the door. She turned and leaned back for a kiss, but I brushed by her and went straight to the air conditioner. I turned the fan up high and pulled off my belt. Rebekah gave me a bewildered look and started to say something, but I put my finger over my mouth and shook my head. She frowned but kept quiet. I motioned for her to go back outside.
Once out of the room, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She raised her eyebrows in anticipation. I gazed into her brown eyes not knowing how to start. I finally said. "There's something you need to know, but you can never speak of it to anyone or we will both likely die."
"Huh. What secret?"
I put my hands on her shoulders and said earnestly, "I am dead serious. Unless you can promise me you will never speak of this to anyone but me, I won't tell you what it is."
"Why? I don't understand."
"You know I've done work for the CIA, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, this is a matter of national security. I could be arrested for treason for telling you this secret. But worse than that we'd both likely be killed if we were found out, before the government even arrested us."
She sighed. "Maybe you shouldn't tell me? I'm not worried about myself, but I'd die if something happened to you."
"I wouldn’t' t tell you except you have a right to know the truth. It will affect you most profoundly. I'm sure you will want to know this secret no matter how dangerous it will be for us."
She swallowed hard. "Then tell me. I promise to keep it to myself."
I smiled faintly and said, "Peter is alive!"
28
Identifying the Enemy
Paula Waters
On Sunday when I heard the startling news that Stan was in the hospital in Waco my first instinct was to rush down there to him. Bart cautioned me that I should resist that urge and let Rebekah handle the situation. He was right, of course. After all it was just a spider bite. How weird was that? But the fact that it happened when Tehra and Stan were alone in Waco disturbed me. I was too rattled to relax and enjoy the weekend, so I decided to go to the office while it was quiet and do some thinking. This Chester Brown case was starting to get complicated and I needed time to sort things out. Bart asked if I wanted him to come along, so we could brainstorm together, but I declined the offer. I needed some time alone.
When I got to the office, I noticed a late call had come in from Paul Thayer on Friday. I grabbed the message and anxiously called the number on the slip. It wasn't his usual number, so I assumed he was on the road. I was right. He was in California trying to identify the members of Stout's personal security team.
"Marty Ramirez is the squad leader," Paul said. "He's ex-special forces and served with Stout on a few intelligence missions. There are four others who regularly hang out with Ramirez—Pablo Crews, Tom Snider, Rich Walls, and Lisa Andretti."
"Lisa? A woman?" I said a little surprised.
"Yes, and she's the toughest one of the bunch. She once was on an LAPD SWAT team, but got busted for roughing up a couple gang members. The whole thing was captured on camera, so there was no whitewashing it."
I laughed. "Okay. We'll stay clear of her. So, where was this so-called security team when the Brown house went up in smoke?"
"Well, nobody around here seems to know much about their comings and goings. But I did discover that they travel in style—a private jet owned by Almatech."
"Really?"
"Yes. So, I checked all the DFW airports for the three days prior to the fire."
"Any luck?" I asked.
"Affirmative. Addison Airport has a record of their plane landing the day before the fire and leaving that same day."
"Really? That's pretty good. They come in, set the triggering mechanism to start the fire the following day, and leave town so they'll have an alibi when the fire erupts."
"Yes, and, according to the arson investigator, it would have been a perfect plan except the self-destruction mechanism on the triggering device malfunctioned."
"So, Ramirez and his team think they've committed the perfect crime?"
"Yes," Paul replied, "and Stout is up in his penthouse suite laughing as the government gets ready to turn the stealth technology contract over to him."
"But how does he plan to finish the project without Brown?"
"I don't know. He probably doesn't care. He'll milk $50 million from the government and then tell them what they want can't be done. After all two of the top technology firms in the country couldn't do it."
This was all making sense to me now, but how would it play with a jury? It seemed rather bizarre to say the least and then there would be the problem of the project being top secret. We couldn't bring in anybody from TI or Almatech to confirm its existence as they'd simply decline to answer any questions in the interest of national security. We might convince the judge that our inquiry did not concern any specifics of the project, but just the existence of it and the competition between TI and Almatech to get the contract that led to a series of dirty tricks and the Brown murders. Then again, the judge might tell us the entire top secret project was off limits and we couldn't mention any of it to the jury. In that case, we'd have nothing.
"You'll have to
get more. Can you find out where they get outfitted? If we can show they purchased the materials for the triggering device, that would go a long way to proving they set the fire."
"That may be tough," Paul replied. "I'm sure they don't buy anything retail. They probably buy from the black market so there’s no trail."
"Then find out who on the team is likely to have the requisite skill to build a sophisticated triggering device like they found in the Brown rubble. Then I'd like you to find out as much about that person as you can. He may the best shot we have at cracking this thing wide open.”
"He won't talk even if you put him under oath on the stand," Paul cautioned.
"That's why you've got to get me more evidence. I've got to be able to force him to tell the truth."
"Okay. I'll see what I can do," Paul said, “but it won't be easy. We can't force people to cooperate like the police or the FBI."
"Just do what you can," I said and hung up. Paul's lack of confidence was annoying. We had plenty of money for a change, yet it didn't seem to matter. As I was thinking, I heard the door open and someone come in the office. Since it was Sunday I got up warily wondering who it could be. I was shocked when I saw Tehra sitting at her desk. She looked up when I walked in.
"Paula. Hi. What are you doing here on Sunday?" Tehra asked.
"I was going to ask you the same thing," I replied.
"Oh, Stan wanted me to finish up the bankruptcy schedules now that we've collected all the information we need. He and Rebekah will be here soon. They're going to take it to Waco tonight so they can file the case first thing in the morning."
"Rebekah is going to Waco?" I asked somewhat surprised at that development.
"Yeah. You know, just getting out of the hospital and everything, she's worried about him driving. It makes sense, I guess."
"Are you okay with that?" I asked.
Tehra's eyes narrowed. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm Stan's intern. Whatever he wants me to do is fine."
"I know. But you must be a little disappointed."
She shrugged. "Sure I'd like to go to Waco. I've never been to bankruptcy court before, but there will be other opportunities. Stan says in a chapter 11 you have to go to court about something or other every week."
"Hmm. So I've heard."
"Besides, I'll have more time to shop for my new apartment."
"Oh, have you found an apartment?"
"Yes, Stan and I found one last week."
"Stan helped you pick it out?"
"Uh-huh. I've never rented one before, so he thought he'd better take care of it for me."
I just stared at Tehra for a moment. I couldn't believe Stan had helped her pick out an apartment. That was way beyond the call of duty. I made a mental note to check with Jodie to see if Stan helped her pick out her apartment. I wondered if his interest in her apartment was because he was paying for it and planned to spend a lot of time there. At least Rebekah was waking up to the danger that was lurking around the office. That could be the only explanation as to why she was going to Waco with him.
"So, what exactly happened to Stan last night? How did you two end up in a motel room together?"
Tehra told me they'd encountered a storm and the car headlights had been smashed when they ran over some debris on the road. It all sounded plausible
Act Normal, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 9 Page 28