by J K Franko
“Alan Hughes.”
“No.”
“Kelly Whittaker.”
“No.”
“Arturo Saenz.”
“No.”
“Roy Cruise.”
McCall’s eyes lit up. “Yes. I’ve met him.”
“What about David Kim?”
“No. No David Kim.”
“Okay. That’s the end of the list. Can you tell me about Cruise?”
“Sure. He’s a VC type. He’s interested in investing in my company. We had drinks—a couple of months ago.”
“Where was this?”
“Seattle. At the Trace—a hotel bar.”
“How was it that you got in contact with him?”
“He contacted me, actually. Said he was going to be in town talking to some startups and that a time slot had opened in the evening. He wanted to hear more about my company.”
“Do you know the exact date?”
“Sure, hold on.” McCall picked his phone up off the table and manipulated the screen. “Wednesday, April 11th.”
“Okay. And what did you discuss?”
“The company. The business. What we’re trying to build. And our current Series A.”
“Is that a software program?”
McCall smiled. “No. It’s a fundraising round. You know—Seed, Series A, Series B. Anyway, our software is done; the platform is all built. We have clients. We’re doing a Series A fundraising round so we can hire some marketing folks and really grow the company.”
“And did you get the investment?”
Woodfield piped in, “Hold on, Marty. That’s company confidential information, Detective. What does it have to do with this case?”
“Motive. There’s a lawsuit pending.”
“Correct,” responded the attorney. “Pending. It’s still there. Hasn’t gone anywhere. If getting rid of the lawsuit was a motive, that hasn’t happened.”
“The victim is a witness in the lawsuit, and a party to the case.”
“If you’re saying that my client is a suspect, then this interview ends right now.”
Travers held up his hands in a calming gesture, thought for a second, and then said, “Okay, let me ask a different question, then. Did Harlan come up in the conversation?”
“No,” McCall answered. “Why would he?”
“In connection with the lawsuit?”
“No. I mean, he mentioned the lawsuit in passing. Cruise did. But he was familiar with TrueData, with what we’ve built. He’d done his homework. I think he just saw it as a nuisance case, like I do. We didn’t dwell on it. He did ask about Frank, but Joe didn’t come up.”
“Not at all?”
“Nope. Not at all.”
“Okay,” Travers answered. He paused, reviewing his notes. “One last subject. Are you familiar with this phone number?” He slid a sheet of paper across the conference table.
McCall looked at the paper first and then at his lawyer. Nothing registered on his face. He looked up back at Travers and said, “No.”
“Any idea why it would be on Joe Harlan’s mobile phone, under your name?”
McCall’s face darkened. He looked back at the sheet of paper, then at his lawyer, who shrugged, and then back at Travers. “Is this some kind of trick? You’ve got my mobile number. You’ve called me on it. This is my phone,” he said, holding up his phone for all to see. “I changed my number when I moved to Seattle. It’s the only one I have. I don’t have a landline, and you’ve got my office number—and that ain’t it.”
“Well, that’s what we found on Joe’s telephone. Your name, and this phone number. And—what’s worse—he received two calls from this number the day that he disappeared—which is probably the day he died.”
“Well, I have no idea. Someone trying to set me up, maybe? Have you tried calling it?” McCall asked, sarcastically.
“We have. It’s a prepaid phone. No one answers. We checked with the carrier. Only two calls have been made from it, ever. Both to Harlan. Both the day he disappeared.” Travers left out the fact that both calls had been made from Miami.
McCall shrugged. “You got me, man.”
Travers paused for a few moments, reviewing his notes, and then said, “Thanks very much for your time, Marty. I think that’s all for today.”
All three men stood.
As they did, McCall asked Travers, “I guess the dick turned out to be his after all. Right?”
Woodfield cringed. “That really doesn’t matter, Marty.”
“Just wondering, man. That really sucks. I mean, we had our differences and all, but getting your dick cut off. That’s just fucked up.”
“Yes,” Travers nodded pensively. “It sure is.”
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
There is more than one way to skin a cat. Or so the saying goes. Not that I particularly care for that expression. But the point of it is that one way of doing something isn’t necessarily better than another. People are different, which means that we approach things differently. Police work is no exception.
Detective Travers’ style was very methodical. Logical. Some might even say plodding. If police work were like World Cup soccer, Travers would be like the German team. Structured, predictable.
Detective Travers closed most of his cases not necessarily because of any particular originality, but because of the systematic way he followed up every lead and documented every fact. Leaving nothing out.
Detective Eddie Garza could be described as more of a freestyle specialist. Eddie went where his intuition took him. If Eddie were a World Cup soccer team, he’d be Italy, or maybe Brazil. He claimed to have an underlying method to his madness. Though, to an outsider, what Eddie did appeared to be more madness than method.
Eddie’s favorite part of the process was interviewing suspects. He felt that this was where he outshone other cops. He believed that human psychology was stacked in his favor. His favorite book was Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. He loved the book because it was a case study on the typical human reaction to committing homicide. He believed that murder was contra-natural, and that murderers were plagued by guilt complexes and that even the most brazen, sociopathic killers subconsciously wanted to get caught.
This hypothesis was the foundation for his philosophy of interrogation. He believed in pressuring his suspects by giving them the impression that the case against them was made. That their capture and punishment was inevitable. He operated from this premise, and then sprinkled in other psychological tactics.
Detective Eddie Garza arrived at Cruise Capital at 10:20. His meeting with David Kim was scheduled for 10:00. Arriving late was one of his tactics. He believed it put him in control of the situation.
It also played with the interviewee’s state of mind.
Eddie believed that tension would increase until the agreed upon appointment time. Then came uncertainty, or maybe even hope that the interrogation might be postponed. And, of course, as the appointed hour passed, the suspect would begin to experience relief, maybe even relax. Then, Bam! Eddie would show up and put them right back in the hot seat. At least, this is what Eddie thought.
However, this time, when he arrived at Cruise Capital, it was he who was made to wait, for the grand total of a whole half hour.
At 10:50, Eve showed him into the main conference room. It was empty. But the power seats were taken—the seat at the head of the conference table, and the first one next to it. They were already occupied—a legal pad in front of one, and a phone and file folder in front of the other. Eddie moved the folder and phone and sat at the head of the table.
“I am so sorry to keep you waiting, Detective,” David Kim offered as he rushed into the room.
Eddie noticed that David looked twice when he realized that his things had been moved.
David was accompanie
d by another man. He introduced himself as Mark Moran.
Rich guy has lawyered up. Shocker.
“You were obviously running late, so I took advantage and jumped on another call which ended up dragging on longer than expected.”
Eddie nodded and mustered a fake smile. “No problem, Mr. Kim. So, given that we’re all running late, if it’s okay with you, I’ll just jump straight in.” David nodded. “So, could you tell me how exactly you know Mr. Harlan?” He leaned back in his chair and stopped short of putting his hands behind his head.
“We met briefly in Austin at a pitch meeting. Then—”
David’s attorney shook his head, and David stopped.
“Then what?” Eddie asked.
David sat down at the opposite head of the table, ignoring the fact that his stuff was in the middle. His attorney stood to his right, casually looking out of the window.
“Then we spoke later, by phone.”
“Why did you fly him down to Miami?”
“We were interested in possibly hiring him.”
“For?”
“Consulting.”
“For?”
David frowned and glanced at his lawyer.
“What kind of consulting, Mr. Kim?” Eddie clarified.
“For Cruise Capital.”
“Look, David,” Eddie said, glancing at the suit by the window and leaning forward, “I get that you’ve got your lawyer here and that you don’t want to say something stupid that’s going to get you into trouble. And I get that your lawyer probably told you not to volunteer anything.”
David half-smiled.
“But I’m just trying to get some basic information here today. If I thought you’d killed this guy, I’d be here with a warrant, and the whole ‘tenor,’” he made air quotes with his fingers, “of this meeting would be very different. So, if you want to keep playing lawyer games, I can be a dick, too.” The suit looked at him, but Eddie carried on, “I can go get a warrant and drag you down to the station to one of our interview rooms. Bad coffee. Shitty view… Or, you can be cooperative, help me do my job, and we’ll probably never see each other again.”
Moran seemed bored, as if he had witnessed this patter many times before, and said, “Detective, my client has every right to—”
“Hold on. Hold on.” David raised his hand. “Look, Detective. I’m happy to cooperate. Trust me. I think what happened is terrible, but I too have to follow company policy,” he said, and nodded at the lawyer. “Ask your questions, and I’ll answer to the best of my ability. I’m sorry, I didn’t even offer you a beverage. Where are my manners? Would you like something? Tea? Coffee?”
“I could use a coffee. Thanks. So, I’ll ask again, then. What’d you want to hire Harlan for?”
“He was part of a company—a startup—in the government procurement space,” David said as he poured coffee into a cup. “Procurex is the name. We believe that the sector has got a lot of upside. He knew the space. And, he had contacts. Well, his father did. Does. We wanted to explore bringing him on to consult for us on companies in this sector.”
“Why him? Why not his partner, Stern? Or this guy McCall from Seattle?”
“Neither of them had the contacts. And, in government, contacts go a long way.”
“And the dad, why not him?”
“I don’t think he can—he’s a sitting senator. I think that’s illegal?” David looked at his lawyer, who nodded.
“Why not meet with him in Austin? Discuss it there?”
“It was cheaper to have him come in and meet with our team here, rather than for us to go to Austin. And we thought his schedule was probably more flexible. That way things could move faster. Sugar?”
Eddie shook his head. “Black please. So, he was meeting with multiple people here? Who?”
“Me and Roy Cruise, the founding partner. But, later that changed.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, initially it was going to be me and Roy, but Roy had something else come up, so in the end it was just going to be me.”
“What came up?”
“Um, he took a trip. With his wife. To Bimini, I believe,” David said, rising from his seat and placing the coffee cup in front of the detective.
“So, the cost savings kind of evaporated, huh?”
“Well, we flew Harlan down economy, and we didn’t have to cover all his meals, so technically it was probably still cheaper to have him come here,” David said, resuming his seat, situating his tie and brushing invisible lint from his blue shirt.
“What happened with dinner?”
“How do you mean?”
“If you want to get this guy to work for you, isn’t it typical to wine and dine him? You know, take him to dinner. Show him a good time?”
“Um, yes. Sort of. The plan was to meet here at the office in the morning. Then, go to lunch. And, if things went well and seemed positive, we would then roll that into dinner. At least, that was the plan,” David added, soberly.
Eddie drank from his cup. “So, we have records showing a text message from him to you about dinner plans. What was all that about?”
David nodded. “Yes. I know exactly what you’re talking about. I thought you’d ask.” He took a sip of his coffee. Then, “I have no idea. After I received the text message, my first thought was that he had written to me by mistake. That he was having dinner with someone else and that it got cancelled. I wrote back to him saying as much.
“But, then, the more I thought about it, the more I started to think that maybe he was offended. You know, because I hadn’t offered to take him to dinner. I assumed he had in some way expected it and was being sarcastic. But it did seem like kind of an odd way to make that point. It’s still somewhat baffling to me.”
“Baffling?”
“Yes. As in confounding, confusing.”
Eddie sighed. “Yes, Mr. Kim, I understand what it means. And I agree, ‘tis somewhat baffling. So, let me give you my take on it. If you’ll indulge me for a second, David,” Eddie said in his best snobby voice. “It sounds to me like three of you were planning on having dinner together—Harlan, you, and someone else—let’s call him Percy.
“Percy sets up dinner. A nice place. Maybe on the water. You know, somewhere fancy. But then, for whatever reason, you back out. You decide not to attend. You let Harlan know. But Harlan still goes ahead to have dinner with Percy. He then writes to you that message saying, ‘Sorry you can’t make it, David. See you tomorrow.’ Percy then meets Harlan, kills him, cuts off his dick, and nails it to his dad’s door. What do you think of that version?” Eddie asked stone-faced, before taking another sip from his cup.
David squirmed in his seat for the first time since the meeting started and looked at his lawyer, who responded with a shrug.
David turned back to the detective, who had now crossed his hands on the table, and was watching him with keen eyes. “Well,” David began, “can’t say I care for that version very much, but I can say that I don’t know anyone named Percy.” He picked up his coffee cup to take a drink.
“What if Percy was Marty McCall? Or Roy Cruise?”
David paused, then put the cup down without drinking from it, returning it to its saucer with a loud clatter. “I guess a scenario like that is consistent with the message he sent. But I can only tell you what I know, Detective. There was no dinner plan. From the outset, the only plan was to meet in the morning. The next day.”
“And, as far as you know, was Harlan planning on having dinner with Cruise, or McCall?”
“I...” David paused. “I don’t know what to tell you. If Roy had planned a dinner, I would expect he would have told me. After all, I was the one who set everything up with Harlan. And Roy was in Bimini anyway. At least as far as I know. He wasn’t even in the country. So, if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that h
e doesn’t fit into your theory. And McCall, what would he be doing in Miami? Was he in Miami? I... I have no idea.”
“Why do you say, ‘as far as you know’ Roy was in Bimini?”
“I’m trying to be precise,” David said, glancing at his lawyer. “Roy said he was going to Bimini. I spoke to him by phone while he claimed he was in Bimini. I have no reason to think that he wasn’t in Bimini. But I have no way of verifying that. So, I can only tell you what I know. I’m not trying to be difficult, Detective—just precise.”
Eddie held the man’s gaze for an unnervingly long time before nodding. “Okay. Got it.” Then he drank more coffee before continuing. “So, since we’re talking about what you can and cannot actually tell me. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me exactly where you were that night? You know, the night before your meeting with Harlan that never happened?”
“I was at home. I had a ton of work to do. I was reviewing due diligence documents on a company we’re looking at investing in. I had a conference call with the founders.”
“Alone?”
“Well kind of. It was just me in my study. On Skype. I did order food. Sushi Maki—from Uber Eats. And, I do have an alarm system at home. I set that before I went to sleep. But, I was alone, working.”
“You ever meet Marty McCall?”
“No.”
“But you know the name?”
“I do. He works in the space—government procurement software. TrueData is his company.”
“And you know where he lives?”
“I know his company is based in Seattle. I assume he lives there or nearby.”
“You ever spoken with him?”
“No.”
“But your friend and colleague Roy Cruise has?”
“Yes. He told me he had.”
“What about?”
“About the business, I suppose, but you’d have to ask Roy. I only know what he told me.”
Eddie thought about this and then stood abruptly. “Okay. Thanks very much for your time and for the coffee. Very nice by the way. Never did care for the shitstant crap.”
With that, the detective glanced at the lawyer and left the room.
