Family Ties Mystery Series Box Set

by James Kipling

  “Are you Captain Decker?” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am, I am. Are you the lady who spoke to me on the phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are persistent and tenacious, ma’am.”

  “Yes, I am. Tenacious as a bulldog.”

  “Before you phoned to delay it, our meeting was scheduled for eight. You must be an early riser.”

  “Yes. I tend to be wide awake when my feet hit the floor.”

  “I’m sure that’s a great way to be. I tend to be drowsy in the morning. But sit down. I will tell you what I know.”

  In Decker’s office, the only chair was not in front of his desk, but beside it. Emily walked to it and sat down.

  “But a detective can rarely tell you more than what’s in the police report,” he said.

  “The police report said practically nothing, just that a house had been broken into and a couple assaulted. It was very vague. And the report didn’t say where the house invasion took place. It simply stated that the crime occurred on the 1800 block of Sunrise Avenue, which takes in a few homes. And you didn’t mention the victims.”

  “That is routine for police reports. Every department might handle their reports in their own way, but most will not give the name of the victim or victims, and do not make the address public, either.

  She tapped her finger on the detective’s desk. “The thing is, Captain, I happen to know of two people who live in the 1800 block of Sunrise Avenue.”

  “Small world, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. Another odd thing is, around the date of the home invasion there, my acquaintances took a trip to a local hospital’s emergency room. The wife was assaulted. The husband received minor wounds. Naturally, I was curious if there was anything more in the police reports. Let’s just say I’m working for a detective who is a friend of both the husband and wife. The couple are going through a divorce; a rather bitter divorce.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Decker said. The voice did sound sympathetic. “In cases like this, sometimes there can be mental and emotional repercussions. It’s very sad. People think their home is safe. A home invasion, in addition to physical injuries, can lead to an emotional tailspin that can take years to recover from.”

  “OK, I realize you can’t give out the names of the victims. But let’s call them Sasha and Martin, just for the heck of it.”

  He flinched, and his eyes blinked as she mentioned the two names. To her, it was a confirmation.

  “Records show that Martin owns a gun, yet it didn’t help him defend his house.” she said.

  “The intruders might have gotten the jump on him. They would have carried guns with them. I would guess he kept his own weapon in a safe place, and he didn’t have time to get to it.” Decker shifted in his seat. He picked up a cup of coffee from his desk and sipped from it. “I don’t know if you pay attention to all the police reports from this department…”

  “I admit I don’t. I catch any news on the Internet. I have given up reading a daily newspaper,” she said.

  “Then you may not know that the two-man gang in this case was caught about three weeks ago. They had targeted the richer sections of town for home invasions, but usually the owners were away at the time. They wanted money and jewels and anything else of value. In this case…” he paused. “In the case of Sasha and Martin, the owners of the home happened to be there. I think the two intruders made a mistake. They didn’t plan on the owners being in the house. They broke into about a half dozen houses in the area before we caught them. The state attorney’s office has just informed us that the two men will take a plea deal and not to go trial. They should get about ten to fifteen years up at Raiford.”

  “Raiford?”

  “That’s where the Florida State Prison is located, up in Bradford County.”

  She gave an embarrassed smile. Her voice was apologetic. “My knowledge of law enforcement is limited. My experience as a detective is very recent.”

  Decker grinned. “You seem to be doing a good job. You catch on quick.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not sure I want to pursue it as a full-time career. I sort of backed into this.”

  He nodded. “The only good thing about this case is that we did catch the criminals. Their court appearance is scheduled for next month. They’ll be sentenced and sent up.”

  Emily had a notebook in her hand. She inserted it back into her purse. “Captain, do you know David Orlando?”

  “I know of him, and I’ve met him several times, but just to say hello. I’m not a friend of his, but I know he’s a private detective. I’ve had no trouble with him, and he seems to be good at his job.”

  “He’s the detective I’m working with. A few days ago I was his secretary, or do we call them female assistants nowadays. Whatever the official name, I was it.”

  Decker chuckled. “So you are moving up in the world.”

  “So to speak. Captain, you investigated this crime involving Sasha and Martin.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll level with you. Those two are friends with my boss, and they’re going through a bad divorce. Let me ask you, is there anything about this case that did not get into your official report, because it had no legal significance, but might have other significance, perhaps on the human or emotional level. That’s something that David should know, because he of his friendship Sasha and Martin.”

  The drowsy Decker jerked, as if he had been hit with a shot from a Taser. He shook his head and looked at Emily with renewed respect.

  “You are good in this field. You’re making some shrewd guesses; some very shrewd guesses.”

  Emily nodded. Her face was ashen. She took no pleasure from her shrewd guesses.

  “There is something that did not go into the official reports, but it is something of a guess. I can tell it to you if you like, but I don’t have definitive proof of what I’m going to tell you.”

  “I would still like to hear it.”

  Decker waited for a moment, then nodded.

  ###

  After Emily left, Orlando phoned the Riebeck Insurance Agency, and found out that Mr. Riebeck was taking his grandchildren on a trip to Disney World and would not be back until Friday. He left a brief message, and ended it by wishing Riebeck and his grandchildren an enjoyable trip to Disney World. He was thinking of his next move when Jack Richardson called, and said he had phoned the vacationing Riebeck and chatted briefly with him. Riebeck had said he would gladly talk about the murder case. His schedule was open on Friday morning, and Orlando just needed to call Riebeck’s private secretary and set up a meeting.

  “Thank you, Jack,” he said. “I could use you as an assistant.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. I’d be lousy as a detective. But if there’s anything else I can do for you, just let me know.”

  Orlando checked his watch. He did not have to be out of the room until noon. Before he returned to Linwood Springs, he thought he’d try to talk to Lyle Woodley. He sat down and phoned the Coral River Journal and asked for Mr. Woodley. The editor must not have been busy, because he answered immediately.

  “Hello, this is Lyle Woodley.”

  Orlando grinned when the voice sounded friendly. In his career, a few voices over the phone had sounded so sharp they could have chopped down oaks in Florida forests.

  “Mr. Woodley, you don’t know me, but my name is David Orlando. I’m a private detective. Jack Richardson hired me to conduct an investigation into the murder of his father, Lyndon Richardson.”

  There was a long pause on the line. “Mr. Orlando, I haven’t heard those names in almost fifteen years. I left Linwood Springs about five years after Mayor Richardson was killed. I worked in Florida, and out of state, too. That brings back memories. You say Jack Richardson hired you?”

  “Yes, it’s his last attempt to try to find the murderer.”

  “I can understand. I kn
ow the Richardsons are a very close family. No skeletons in any closets. No dark secrets. Jack and his siblings, and his parents, were and are very fine people. It was awful, what happened to them.’

  “Did you know them well, Mr. Woodley?”

  “Not well. I grew up in Linwood Springs, but didn’t really get to know them until I started covering the city for the paper. I was rooting for Lyndon Richardson and his allies, and was elated when they won the election and gained a majority on the council. They did an excellent job and improved the city. So, what can I do for you, Mr. Orlando?”

  “I wanted to talk to anyone with any involvement in the case, plus police investigators and reporters who covered the murders, to see if they have any new insights into the case, or have a hunch or piece of evidence that, for whatever reason, didn’t make it into print.”

  “I wish I did. I admired the mayor and wanted to find out who killed him. And I didn’t have any trust for the state attorney at that time. He just wasn’t very good at his job. But I never could nail anything down.” He sighed. “There was never any clear evidence pointing to a specific suspect. Mayor Richardson was a reformer. At that time, in Linwood Springs history, he had a lot of enemies, but there was a lack of evidence. I was sure authorities would find the car that ran him down. That might have yielded clues galore, but they didn’t. That still puzzles me. After it happened, investigators wondered if it was intentional or accidental. The latter wasn’t considered likely, but it was possible. But if it had been accidental, I think the car would have been found. I think this was pre-mediated murder, and the killer knew he would have to get rid of the car, and he made plans to do so before he committed the crime. That’s the only theory that makes sense to me.”

  “Do you have any suspects?”

  “I heard a rumor about a developer who wanted to build another high condo and a hotel on the city beach, and had made plans, but then Richardson was elected and it spoiled his plans. It cost the developer millions, perhaps tens of millions. I have the name in my notes but I can’t think of— ”

  “A Mr. Davis?”

  “Oh, yes, that was it. Davis, Aukland Davis. As I recall he was not in a real strong financial position, and he wanted the two beach projects to bail him out. But when Richardson and his allies was elected, the city made sure no more condos were constructed on the beach. He was financially stung by that. He didn’t see Richardson’s election coming. After that, he hated the mayor. He would go into restaurants and have too much to drink, and loudly, very loudly, cuss the mayor. Managers went up to him and told him to lower his voice or he would have to leave. On at least one occasion, a manager did escort him to the door and onto the street.”

  Orlando thought for a moment. He scratched his chin with a finger.

  “Mr. Woodley, one of the puzzling aspects to this crime is the sheer viciousness of it. Except for good fortune, the wives of both of the victims would have been walking with them. The murderer could not have known they wouldn’t be there, so he was prepared to kill four people. To me, that shows anger and fury. It seems like Mr. Davis would qualify for that.”

  “It’s possible. He wasn’t the nicest person around…Oh, give me about five minutes, Shari. I should be through by then. Sorry, Mr. Orlando. I keep my door open so the staff often knocks and walks in when they need something.”

  “That’s all right. Fortunately, I’m calling from a hotel room in a town where most people don’t know me, so I shouldn’t be interrupted.”

  Woodley laughed. “I worked a long time to become editor, so I don’t mind the interruptions, and I like the job. The Coral Bay Tribune is a small paper. Our circulation is only about twelve thousand, but last year, in the Florida Newspaper Association awards, we came in second in our category. I wish we could have won, but first place went to Harry Winstock, over at Dale City, and he deserved it. He runs an excellent newspaper. We both have increased circulation at a time when newspaper are folding, not expanding.”

  “How many other awards did you win?”

  “Eight, making a grand total of nine. Harry won seven. He got the First Place for General Excellence, but we did win one more award than he did.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Woodley gulped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Orlando. I got distracted. I have a weakness, and it’s bragging about the newspaper. Before I came, the Tribune never got close to the top three in the general excellence category, and never won more than three awards in a single year.”

  “Sounds like you have something to brag about.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t phone to hear me talk about the Coral Bay Tribune. Sorry. But I can tell you that I had the same suspicions about Davis. Before I left Linwood Springs, I heard he was facing mounting debts and bankruptcy. A month or so after the murders, I asked a few questions about Davis, tried to tie down where he was at the time of the hit-and-run. I never was able to.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. On that day, Aukland Davis was not in his office, or his home. He had told several employees late that afternoon, the afternoon of the hit-and-run, that he had to travel to Vero Beach for business. He didn’t give any details, or say where he was going to in Vero Beach. He was back in the office the next day.”

  “So, he was missing at the time of the murders.”

  “Yes, but the police never questioned him about it. There was no evidence that connected him to the crime.”

  “I see.”

  “But Davis also had a right-hand man who acted, to be honest, as an enforcer, if Davis ever needed some muscle. I don’t think Davis’ disappearance is deeply significant because, if he had wanted something illegally done, he might have tapped his enforcer. After twenty-five years, I’ve forgotten the guy’s name. At that time, Davis was a high-roller and lived a high life. He lived in the best houses, drank the finest wines, ate the finest foods and lived high on a Florida hog. If he was facing bankruptcy, knowing he had lost all of that, and blamed Mayor Richardson for it…”

  “The result might be vicious and savage,” Orlando said.

  “Yes. In situations like that it’s not uncommon for the high roller to put a gun to his head. Maybe Davis decided to shoot someone else, the man he blamed for bankrupting him.”

  “Thanks for talking to me, Mr. Woodley.”

  “Glad to do it. I gave you a theory, but no hard evidence. I wish I had some.”

  “It gives me something to think about. Thanks again.”

  He rubbed his jaw and thought, even if he did find the killer of Mayor Richardson, the man might be dead, or at least elderly. But the Richardson family simply wanted to know the truth, whatever that truth might be, and wanted to know who drove the speeding vehicle so many years ago, no matter if the driver was dead, dying or infirmed.

  It was time to return to his office, although, in two days, he had an interview with the owner of an insurance company.

  ###

  His office smelled a bit stale, when he opened the door and flicked on the central air. In the summer, or for that matter, for most months in Florida, you shouldn’t turn off the central air, even if you’re leaving for a while. If so, when you return and open your door, you realize how hot and stuffy Florida can be.

  He moved the dial to 66 and heard the rush of cold air. He went behind his desk and sat down. Emily stepped in behind him, and sat down in one of his office chairs.

  “You didn’t want to have a working dinner?” he asked. “We could have gone to a fine restaurant.”

  “This is not the type of news to break over dinner, or even over drinks,” she said. “An office is needed, a professional atmosphere.”

  He loosened his tie and leaned back in his chair.

  “OK, let’s have it,” he said.

  Emily reached into her purse and brought out sheets of paper stapled together. She held them up.

  “I wrote out my conclusions for you, if you want them for your file. Th
ey’re a little more detailed, and have dates and approximate times. You can put this in your files. I didn’t want to send this by computer. I didn’t want anyone hacking and finding it. This…” she held up the paper. “Can be viewed by just you and me.”

  Orlando nodded.

  “During the time when there seems to be growing tension between Martin and Sasha, a two-man home invasion gang was operating in the city, hitting the rich sections of town. They invaded the homes of your friends. During most of the invasions, the homes were empty, but not this time. Possibly, the two made a mistake and thought the home was empty. The upshot is, Sasha was assaulted. Martin had a minor wound, as if he was pistol-whipped. Sasha was taken to the ER afterwards and treated for injuries.”

  “Oh, no!” Martin said. He groaned as if he’d been kicked by a mule. He swallowed, and felt so weak he grabbed the desk with his hands to steady himself.

  “The injuries were not life-threatening, thank goodness, but any time a woman has to go through something like that…”

  She let the words hang in the air. Martin nodded. He choked again.

  “In my business, I’ve talked to some…survivors.”

  He shook his head again.

  “I gave you more details in my report, so I won’t say anything more about it.”

  “I’m not sure I want to read it,” Martin said.

  “But there’s one more thing I must bring to your attention. Sasha was treated for her wounds, but doctors also found other, older abrasions and wounds on her.”

  Orlando felt the mule kick again. This time it lifted him off his feet and slammed him into the dust. He slowly stood up. He felt weak, as if he were a heart patient who couldn’t catch his breath, panting heavily.

  “Are you saying…”

  “The abrasions possibly came from being slapped or hit and, in one case, as if she was thrown to the ground.”

  Orlando’s hand shook, but his voice dropped and deepened. When he spoke, his words could have stopped a charging elephant.

  “I will kill him. This office is on the third floor. So help me, I will toss him from it and have him splattered on the concrete.”