Murder and the Museum

by Dianne Harman

  Marty looked at Laura wide-eyed. “Seriously? People really do that? I thought that was just done in movies and books.”

  Laura shrugged. “Don’t know. I’m just reporting what Dick told me. You can find out for yourself tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Marc Katz took a sip from the coffee cup in front of him and realized it had gotten cold while he debated what his next step should be. He felt like he was hemmed in, and he didn’t like the feeling at all.

  He looked at the architect’s rendering of the mega resort he was planning on building near the intersection of Highway 111 and Interstate 10, just outside of Palm Springs. People were generally in a hurry to start relaxing once they got to Palm Springs, and he was certain a lot of them would stop at the resort rather than continue driving farther down the freeway to the other nearby resort cities. The acreage for the planned resort was far too small to support a golf course, but in the Palm Springs area that wasn’t really a problem.

  The last time Marc had looked it up, because he knew his wealthy investors would want to know why the resort didn’t include a golf course, he had discovered there were already over one hundred and forty in the general Palm Springs area, the greatest concentration of golf courses in the world.

  With the luxurious accommodations the guests would experience at the five star resort he had planned, he was certain they wouldn’t mind driving a few miles to play golf. Another plus for his resort was that if people liked to gamble, the resort was only twenty minutes away from the Morongo casino, a hugely successful tribal gaming facility.

  While it all sounded good and the renderings were gorgeous, a major fly in the ointment had just reared its ugly head. Marc had greased the palms of some of the city and county officials to make certain that the variances he’d need to build the resort would be granted. That wasn’t the problem. The problem had occurred that morning when he’d called the commercial real estate broker who had the listing for the property and been told by him that the property was in escrow. Marc had been shocked. During his last meeting with the broker, he’d been assured the property would be his once he had the earnest money to deposit into escrow. He relived the morning’s conversation once again.

  “Hi, Tony, it’s Marc Katz. I’ve got the earnest money deposit as well as the funding for the 111 and 10 intersection property we’ve been discussing. I’d like to meet with you as soon as possible so we can get started with the escrow. Now that I’ve got the funding, every day that we delay is a day I don’t make money,” he said with a laugh.

  “Marc, I’m sorry.” There was a pause before Tony continued. “I knew I should have called you. When I didn’t hear from you for a couple of weeks my client went ahead and took an earnest money deposit from someone else. The property you’re talking about is already in escrow and is going to be sold to another buyer. The escrow is being handled by Alliance Escrow in Palm Springs.”

  Marc listened, but the words weren’t computing. “Wait a minute, Tony, did I hear you say that property is already in escrow? I thought we had a deal.”

  “Sorry, Marc. The lady gave me the escrow deposit in cash. Actually, she gave me $50,000 more than the deposit you and I had agreed on. I talked to my seller, and he said to take her offer. Afraid that property is no longer for sale. Let me see what else we have available, and I’ll get back to you by the end of the week.”

  “Don’t bother. You can’t do this to me. I’ll sue you for every last dollar you and your seller have,” Mark said in a threatening tone of voice. “We had a deal. What you’ve done is not only illegal, it’s unethical.”

  “No, Marc, it’s not.” Tony was calm. “There’s a clause in the contract that states the property is no longer considered to be on the market if the seller has accepted an earnest money deposit and opened an escrow. That’s what happened. I’m afraid you have no recourse. Marc, I have to go. I have another call. Have a nice day.”

  Yeah, you too, Marc thought. Should have greased your palm as well. Bet the lady did.

  He started sweating just thinking about the conversation he was going to have with his investors. He knew the first thing he’d be asked is who had bought the property. In his shock over the property being in escrow, he’d neglected to ask Tony who the buyer was, but he should be able to find that out rather easily. He called one of the minions who worked for Alliance Escrow, one of the minions whose palms he’d greased, and within minutes had found out the buyer of the property was a woman named Camille Borden.

  He searched the internet for her name and found out she’d recently announced she intended to build a museum complex on the property. One of the articles said the museum would be a “jewel in the desert” which would house her extensive collection of early 20th century California paintings, as well as Native American and western artifacts.

  It said she planned on having a ten-acre desert landscape garden as part of the complex and had purchased a number of Dale Chihuly outdoor art pieces from the famous Seattle art glass blower to put in the garden, because his work lent itself so well to outdoor gardens. She said that although the Chihuly glass pieces would be outside, everything inside the museum would have been originally created in California. Every article Marc read praised her generosity and said how indebted the Palm Springs community was to her.

  Looks like we got ourselves a proper little Miss Goody Goody, Marc thought to himself.

  He stood up and walked over to the credenza next to the wall of his office and poured himself a cup of coffee. He would have preferred a double martini, but he thought if his secretary walked in, with her tendency to pass on rumors, it might get back to his investors. The last thing he wanted to convey to them was that he was concerned about this wrench in the proceedings, even if he’d never been so troubled in his whole life.

  No, he had to find a way out of this mess, and it looked like the only way he could get that property was to get Camille Borden to pull out of the deal. He made a call to one of the people he knew in the city, and a few minutes later he had her cell phone number. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and dialed her number.

  A moment later he heard a female voice say, “This is Camille Borden. May I help you?”

  “Yes, Ms. Borden. My name is Marc Katz. If you have a moment, I’d like to speak with you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m on a pretty tight schedule, Mr. Katz. What’s it about?”

  “I understand that you’ve deposited money in escrow for the commercial property near the 111 and 10 highways.”

  “Yes, I’m in escrow now. That’s the property where I plan to build a museum to house my art collection. What about it?”

  “You see, Ms. Borden, I have a number of investors who would like to buy that property and build a resort on it. Obviously, it’s freeway accessible, and it will be the first big resort people see when they come to Palm Springs from the Los Angeles area. I’m prepared to pay you a large sum of money if you withdraw from the escrow. I’ll even cover any penalty fees you may incur for withdrawing. I’m sure there are other locations in the Palm Springs area that would be perfect for your proposed museum.”

  Camille Borden’s laugh was light and fluttery. “That may be true, Mr. Katz, but I have no intention of withdrawing from escrow. I will build on that property, and I’m sorry, but there is no amount of money that will make me change my mind. Have a nice day,” she said as she ended the call.

  Well, now I’ve had two people tell me to “Have a nice day.” I am definitely not having a nice day. Swell.

  Marc looked at his phone in frustration. He could tell by the tone of Camille’s voice that she meant it when she said she wasn’t going to change her mind. From what he’d read, she was very, very wealthy and money was not really an issue with her. He’d tried to make the problem go away, since it had been his experience that most problems did go away when people were given money, but it was obvious money wasn’t going to make this problem go away. The only way the problem would go away was if Camil
le Borden went away. For good.

  Marc’s investors generally passed under the radar, in fact, some might say they were a bit shady, but they had money, lots of money. How they made it was of no interest to Marc. He had no illusions that they had made their money through clever trading on Wall Street or some other legitimate business activity.

  No, they’d probably made their money in ways that were illegal. Narcotics, extortion, and other routine Mob activities were more likely the source of their income. He thought about which one of the investors would be the most amenable to taking care of the Camille problem, then he made a call.

  “Gino, it’s Marc. I’ve got a little problem with our development out here in Palm Springs. I was wondering if you could loan me one of your men for a couple of days.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, give me Sal’s number, and I’ll call him from a burner phone I keep. He won’t need to be in Palm Springs more than a couple of hours. Once he leaves, our problem will leave as well.”

  Marc sat back and allowed himself to smile. In a few days, the problem that had been created would go away. After all, dead people can’t purchase property, can they?

  CHAPTER 6

  Austin Phillips looked at his wife, Leticia, and smiled. She was everything he’d ever wanted. Shoulder length hair so black it was almost blue, huge brown eyes framed by a thick fringe of black eyelashes set in a very light brown complexion, and with a body that was lush with curves, all in the right places.

  “Letty, you just get more beautiful every day. The best thing I ever did in my life was marry you, even if my mother was against it.” He put his arms around her and pulled her to him. “I love you so much.”

  “Austin, we’ve been skirting a certain subject for days, and it’s time we talked about it,” she said as she wriggled out of his embrace. “Time’s running out.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “The same thing we’re always talking about. Your inability to stand up to your mother. You promised me when we got married you’d take matters into your own hands. It’s not my fault that your mother found out about your drug use and practically disowned you. It’s a good thing you had a trust fund from your father, because the way you’re still spending money on drugs, I’m not sure we’d have enough to live on.”

  “Oh really? I’ve noticed that you don’t mind spending money on clothes and jewelry. I’ve even heard you say that it’s a gift from your mother-in-law to make everyone think we’re just one big happy family.”

  “As if,” Leticia said. “I really don’t think it’s anyone’s business that we’re not one big happy family, although I sure didn’t have anything to do with it. I can’t help it that your mother has a built-in prejudice against Hispanics, and that’s why she opposed our marriage. Not my problem.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but that wasn’t the issue.” Austin’s earlier playfulness gave way to a sneer. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but according to my mother, you were nothing but a gold digger who hoped to get my trust fund money and when it was gone, try to get my mother’s money through me. She never did think you were good enough for our family.”

  Leticia stared him down with her big brown doe eyes. “Personally, I think anyone’s good enough for a family where the matriarch was nothing more than poor white trash until oil was discovered on the land she inherited from her parents. It’s not as if she got her money through her brains.”

  “I disagree. Any time a woman can have three husbands, and still have a good relationship with all of them after they’re divorced, that says to me the woman has some smarts.”

  “Yeah, or she was just good in bed or still is.”

  Austin’s nostrils flared. “Leticia, I won’t have you speak of my mother like that. She and I may have our differences, but she is still my mother.”

  “Right. So that’s why you won’t talk to her about why she’s giving all of her things to that museum she wants to build. From what I read in the paper today, it’s pretty much a done deal. Looks like she’s in escrow for the property, and as soon as it closes, the museum will be built and everything she has will go to it and not to you. So much for your inheritance, love, poof!” She snapped her fingers. “Now you see it, now you don’t.”

  Austin decided to hear her out. When it came to financial matters, he knew his wife was a lot more astute than he was. Left to his own devices, what money he had would probably already be lining his drug dealer’s pockets. “So, Miss Know-It-All, what do you think I should do? I’m sure you have some plan in mind.”

  Leticia sat down, crossed her arms, and looked over at him. “That I do, Austin, that I do. You see, my brain’s not fried like yours is. First of all, you go to her, repent for your sins, and say you’ve seen the light, or words to that effect. Tell her you’re leaving me.” She leaned closer. “Tell her she was right about me all along. Then suggest since I’m no longer around, and you know that was the main barrier to your inheriting her estate, it’s no longer a problem. Rather than her donating everything to the museum, she can loan it to the museum, and when she dies you’ll inherit it.”

  A look of shock passed across Austin’s face. “Leticia, I can’t do that. I can’t divorce you. I love you. I need you. I wouldn’t even want to get up in the morning if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Austin, sometimes you really are simple. That would all be for show. We’d get divorced on paper, but we’d still be together. She just wouldn’t know about it.”

  “I don’t want to wait for thirty years or so for her to die so we can get back together again,” Austin said petulantly.

  “Austin, darling. I have no intention of that happening. Read between the lines.” She gave him an encouraging smile.

  “What are you talking about, Leticia?”

  “Honestly darling, are you really so dense, or just pretending?” Letitia threw him an eye-roll. “Let’s just say if she were to die––you know people in their sixties die all the time, particularly when they’re fighting cancer––you could step in and take over. And if you did it before she built the museum, you wouldn’t even have to go through the hassle of getting everything back from the museum. Better yet, you’d even get the money that she was going to spend on the museum. It’s a real win-win situation, don’t you think?” she asked, clearly pleased with her rationale.

  Austin looked at her in disbelief. “Are you saying you think I should kill my mother?”

  Letitia exhaled. “Austin, grow up. Let’s put it this way. If you don’t get rid of your mother, I will. Quite simply, we’re running out of money, but fortunately we’re only one step away from a lifetime cash cow. Hate to put it so bluntly, but that’s the truth. And one last thing, Austin, don’t forget what I just said. If you don’t do it, I will.”

  She stood up and walked out the door, leaving Austin to make a decision on what he considered a no-win situation, not a win-win situation.

  CHAPTER 7

  The next morning everyone except Les and Marty had left the compound at an early hour. Even the dogs were quiet, and the compound and the surrounding desert were tranquil. Marty knew Les was in his studio painting, but since he was one of the few artists or authors who preferred to create without music, no sounds were coming from his home.

  Marty answered emails, looked at some professional sites on her computer and when she felt it was late enough, she called Dick at the insurance company where Laura worked.

  “Hi, Dick. I want to thank you for the Borden referral. I’m going to her home late this afternoon to take a walk-through of what needs to be appraised. I’m hearing from Laura that you’ve seen her collection and it’s quite extensive. Anything I should be aware of?”

  “No, Marty, not really. It may be the largest collection this office has ever handled, but given the wealth of the woman, and the fact that building a museum to house her collection has been her dream for years, it’s not surprising. At least that’s what she told me. You won’t have any problem with the fine art a
nd the Native American artifacts, but at some point, you may want to pull in another appraiser for the things like arrowheads, guns, and cowboy-oriented things. Know anybody?”

  Marty’s mind scrolled through her mental rolodex. “Yes, I have a friend who has helped me a lot since I’ve been here. He has an art and antique shop in Palm Springs, but his personal collection consists mostly of western artifacts. I think he’d be perfect. I’ll give him a call and see what his schedule looks like.”

  “What’s his name? I know most of the antique dealers in the area.”

  “His name is Carl Mitchell, and he owns The Palm Springs Antique Shoppe located in the old section of Palm Springs. He’s had the shop a long time, and between us, I think his customers go there as much for the gossip as the antiques. He’s an interesting man,” Marty said with a chuckle.

  “I’ve met him a couple of times, and yes, I know he does have a good reputation. Feel free to bring him in if you think you need to.”

  “When it comes to guns, arrowheads, and things of that nature, I definitely need to. I’m looking forward to this. I’ll give you a call after I meet with the client and let you know when I’m going to start the appraisal and how long it will take.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate it, and of course I want you to use replacement values rather than auction prices.”

  “Rest easy, Dick. I’ll have it covered. Talk to you later.”

  When the call ended she noticed that Patron and Duke had walked out into the courtyard. She realized they hadn’t had a chance to commune with nature since Jeff had left early that morning and had walked them before he went to work.

  “Okay guys, let’s take a little walk.” She opened the gate and let them out. They spent a few minutes looking for lizards and other critters that made their home in the desert. Her one fear was that someday there would be an errant rattlesnake lying in wait for them, but so far, she, and the dogs, had been lucky.