by John Misak
plausible. It’s a state issue. I don’t see it ever going to Washington, unless the federal government wants to rethink how it does business across the country.”
“Did you and Ron ever discuss it?”
“Of course. We were concerned about it. After all, if we lose the tax breaks we get, it would seriously affect our bottom line.”
“What do you think of politics?”
“Don’t like them. Never did. All they do is get in the way.”
I couldn’t argue that.
“What was Mr. Mullins’ state of mind like recently?”
“He didn’t seem to be himself.”
“Suicidal?” That was a tough word to say with a numb mouth. I hoped that Chapman didn’t think I was some sort of idiot. From what I could tell, I was hiding my handicap pretty well.
“I don’t know if I would say that. Like I said, Ron was a genius. Geniuses tend to go through bouts of depression more often, I think. Especially when they think that their talent is going to waste.”
“So, you don’t think Mullins committed suicide?”
He looked at me over his glasses. “I’ve known Ron for a long time. I’ve seen him go through a lot, with his wife, his father, and with several issues here at Techdata. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but we communicated well, and I think I knew him inside and out. Yes, he’d been much different lately, but I attributed that to the changes he was considering in his life.”
“Like getting a divorce?” I interrupted.
“Where did you hear that, in the tabloids?”
I didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell Chapman about what Sondra told me. I didn’t feel as though I could trust this guy. He really didn’t give me reason not to trust him, but he also didn’t give me a reason to trust him either. I didn’t consider him a suspect.
“It’s been thrown around a few places.”
“It’s nonsense. Mullins loved his wife.”
“What do you think of her?”
“Sondra? The woman is quite a package. Very tough to please, but a loving wife regardless. I always thought she was too much for Ron to handle. He loved her dearly, and even thought they had their problems from time to time, they worked them out.”
“So they never considered divorce,” I said.
“I’m sure they did, but so do just about every other married couple in the world. It’s a fact of life, these days. But I’m telling you, Ron would never have allowed it. He wouldn’t have done that to his kids, nor would he have jeopardized his future political career by doing something like that.”
“What do you know about Mullins’ will?”
Chapman smiled again. “I know what you are trying to do.”
He did? I didn’t even know what I was trying to do. I was just throwing shit against the wall to see what stuck. Not much did, but that was nothing unusual.
“You do?”
“You’re talking about the situation going on with the company. I’m fully aware of the fact that Sondra can cancel the buyout. Yes, there’s a lot of money involved, but we are dealing with the loss of a great businessman, husband, and father. Money isn’t everything.”
So, I had hit a soft spot. I liked that. “It’s all about money.”
“What do you want, Detective Keegan? You want to consider me a suspect in this?” Chapman asked. It didn’t seem to shake him. The question came more as for information than concern.
“I consider everyone a suspect. I would think you would understand that.” I watched Chapman’s face. The expression did not change one bit.
“I know you have an investigation to carry out, and I also know that you have absolutely no leads, other than the fact that Ron apparently killed himself.”
“Which you seem to think impossible.”
He exhaled. “Not impossible. I’m no psychologist. It just doesn’t seem likely.” He paused. “Listen, I know you have a job to do, and I would like to do anything I can to help you. I mean, if there was any sort of foul play involved in Ron’s death, then that is an atrocity, and I would like to see you bring the people responsible to justice. I just don’t see how knowing about my company will help you.”
Of course he knew. I wished I had the answer machine tape with me, so I could play it for him and see his reaction. That comment about fixing what Mullins’ father started stuck in the back of my mind. Mullins’ father had started Techdata, and Harold Chapman was in charge of that. It made sense.
“Well, Mr. Chapman, I am not here to inconvenience, or anger you. Everything regarding this case is of concern to my department and me. So, if you wouldn’t mind answering just a few more questions, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
Chapman opened up a desk drawer and pulled out a cigar. He flicked a switch, which turned on a ceiling fan overhead. “Do you smoke?” he asked, reaching in the drawer for another cigar.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pack of cigarettes, which I had purchased at a convenience store next to Dad’s office. My mouth was still numb, so holding a cigarette in my lips took concentration.
“Only the sort that kill you,” I said.
“Feel free,” he said, lighting his cigar. Smoke filled the room for a second, then it rose up into the exhaust fan directly above him. He took a few long drags, savored the cigar, which smelled like shit to me, and placed in the ashtray he placed halfway between us. From what I could tell, he was inhaling it. Disgusting. I lit my cigarette, threw the match in the ashtray, and looked at him. “Go ahead, ask your questions.”
How nice of him.
“Is it true that Mr. Mullins orchestrated the Onyx deal?” I asked.
“Well, he originally was against the deal. It was my idea at first, but he was pivotal in making it happen.” Chapman spoke clearly and confidently. I sensed nothing off about his speech, anything that would give away his lying.
“Will it definitely happen?” I asked.
“Looks that way. I hope so. Thinking about investing?” Chapman quipped, trying to lighten the mood. I couldn’t blame him. Few people liked talking to the cops.
“Not on my salary,” I said.
“Everyone has to start somewhere.”
I decided to get the conversation back on track. “Can Mrs. Mullins, under the current circumstances, block that merger? Does she have the power to do so?”
He thought about that for a second. “On paper, I guess she could. But she really doesn’t know much about the operations of the company, so I doubt she would even consider doing such a thing. It would be a fool’s errand.”
“Do you think she will proceed with the buyout?” I asked.
“I don’t see why not. She doesn’t like the software business. She has no interest in it. She likes money, Detective Keegan, if you want me to be honest, she stands to make a hefty sum by proceeding with the buyout.” Again, Chapman spoke clearly. He meant what he said, for sure.
I decided to shift gears. “What would you say if I told you that I have a witness who says he knows something about Mr. Mullins’ death? Someone who works for you.”
“Do you?” Chapman asked, looking at me directly without a flinch.
“I’m speaking hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically, huh? I’m not much into hypotheticals. To entertain your question, however, I would be interested in finding out what this person knows. Also, how they came to know it. People can say whatever they want, make up stories, or they can think they know something they really don’t.”
“Agreed. Still, people also can see and hear things and know them as well. It’s hard to tell if someone really is telling the truth,” I said.
“Don’t I know that,” Chapman said, pulling at his cigar. He considered it for a moment, watching the smoke rise around it. “Have you ever been fooled, betrayed?”
“Of course.”
“It usually blindsides you,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Do you know of anyone who would want to do Mr. Mullins any harm?” I asked,
seeing an opportunity.
“Obviously, if I knew of such a person, I would have brought it to Ron’s attention, and I would have told you about it immediately.”
“So, no one you were aware of would want him dead?”
“No one I knew of. I mean, you’re talking about a highly competitive industry here. A lot of things we do, especially when we do them well, can squash an entire company. Of course there has to be someone that wasn’t happy with him, or our company.”
“Anyone in particular come to mind?”
Chapman took another hit off his cigar. “This is the software industry, Detective Keegan, not the mafia. You don’t see computer geeks going around knocking off their competition.”
It was time to get to the meat of this interview. Geiger wanted me to bring him back something, and though Chapman did offer me some information, I had nothing that helped the investigation.
“What if I told you that you were a suspect? That I thought you might have offed your partner because he was against your merger with Onyx, and he had changed his mind about the buyout.”
Chapman laughed heartily. It appeared quite genuine. “Detective Keegan, please. I am a businessman. I was a partner and friend of Ronald Mullins for almost twenty years. He made this company what it is, I won’t deny that. Without him, I would be well off, no doubt, but I wouldn’t have one-tenth the amount of money I have now. Even the notion that I would want him dead is preposterous, at best. Please keep your questions within the limits of sanity.”
Good answer, Harold. “Most murder investigations do not revolve around sanity, Mr. Chapman. I need to explore every lead, every
