Soft Case (Book 1 of the John Keegan Mystery Series)

by John Misak

I am sure he would have succeeded in his political goals.”

  She smiled. “Ronny had more potential than any other man I ever met in my life. I applauded his decision to leave that company and embark on something he always dreamed of.”

  “He was a bit uncertain about leaving the company, wasn’t he?”

  “He was. It was because his father built that company. Don’t get me wrong, Detective, though I don’t care much for it, my ex-husband put his life into Techdata, and I was proud of him and my son for making it what it is today.”

  “I can understand that. What about the message, when your son refers to fixing damage done to what his father created?”

  “He’s referring to Harold Chapman, no doubt. It took me a while to figure that out. But we had talked about Chapman, and we had talked about what would happen to the company when Ronny left. He didn’t want Chapman to take over, but he had no choice. I am sure he suspected Harold of some underhanded dealings, but I am not sure if he ever nailed that down. I think what he meant by that message was that he had found something concrete and was going to do something about it.”

  “Any idea what Chapman might have been up to?”

  “Sorry, I haven’t the faintest idea what that man was doing.”

  “What do you know about Mr. Chapman?”

  “I know that he is just like his father in many respects. Ruthless to the point of absurdity. I also know that Harold and Ronny got along better than their fathers did.”

  “Okay. Now, I need to ask you some questions that will sound as though they are coming from left field. Just bear with me, okay?”

  “Ask away, Detective. I have nothing to hide.”

  “First, do you think that Harold Chapman is capable of murder?”

  “Harold? Murder?” She thought about that for a second. “Well, I don’t think the coward could pull the trigger himself, but he certainly could have someone else do it for him.”

  That was how I saw it as well.

  “Do you think he is capable of murdering your son?”

  “I don’t think it would make a difference to him, if he has something to gain, especially financially.”

  “Did your son ever mention anything about Harold and illegal campaign contributions?”

  Again she thought for a moment. I saw Roseanna walk by, her tight butt wiggling back and forth in her jeans. Stay focused, I told myself. I didn’t have Rick with me to get the information while I ogled the females.

  “Well, he never said anything specifically about it, but when we talked one time about going into politics, he said there was something he would have to investigate beforehand.”

  “You don’t know what that something was?”

  “I don’t. But what you just asked me seems to fit in real good.”

  “True. Now this might be a difficult question.”

  “Go ahead.” She was a rock.

  “Is it possible, in your own opinion, that your son committed suicide?”

  “Absolutely not. Impossible.”

  “Okay. The only reason I asked is that there is plenty of circumstantial evidence pointing to that, and several of the other people I interviewed thought it might be possible.”

  “I understand how these things go Detective, but trust me, Ronny was in perfect psychological condition. He was happier than he had ever been in his entire life. He was making a career move that would reap unbelievable rewards for him. He would be financially secure for the rest of his life. If only he could have just gotten rid of that woman.”

  “You mean Sondra?”

  “I do. She was poison for him. She always was. All she cared about was how much money he made. She tried to talk him out of leaving the company until she heard how much money they would stand to make. Then she was all for him getting into politics. I never liked her. Ever.”

  That was obvious.

  “Were they having marital problems?”

  “On and off. He really loved her. That was the problem. Ronny was a genius, but when it came to matters of the heart, he had the instincts of a child. He really didn’t fit in when he was young, and he really didn’t get the attention he wanted. As he got older, things got worse because of the field he was going into. You know, computer geeks. Back then, it wasn’t chic to know things about computers. He got labeled, and had a hard time finding someone. Then he met Sondra. I’m sure you’ve heard all the talk about how she has been there for him since before he got rich, but she drove him nuts when he didn’t have any money. I saw her attitude change when she heard my ex-husband talk about how much money they could make when he shifted the focus of the business. She pushed Ronny so hard. And all he did was try and please her. She would sit at home, once the money came in, and they got into several fights because he suspected her of fooling around behind his back. She did, no doubt about that. He knew it too. But he was afraid of losing her.” Ms. Minkoff’s voice had raised a few pitches by the time she had finished speaking. She was angry.

  “Anything happen recently?”

  “I think they were fighting right before it happened. She was mad he wasn’t going down to the Bahamas, and he was certain she was cheating on him with someone he knew. He wouldn’t say who it was, probably because he wasn’t sure.”

  “Could it have been Chapman?” I asked, taking a proverbial shot in the dark.

  She laughed. “Harold? Absolutely not. I take it you have met him?”

  “I have.”

  “And you think it would be possible for her to fool around on my son with him? Come on now, Detective.”

  “Maybe for the money.”

  “My son had plenty of that. She went for younger men. She likes excitement, challenges. Harold would never be able to offer any of that.”

  She was right.

  “You have any idea who it might be?”

  “I don’t.”

  I thought about asking her some more questions, but I realized that she didn’t really deserve to be put through anything else.

  “Well, that’s about it, unless you have any other information that might be helpful.”

  “I can tell you one thing, detective. My son did not commit suicide. Someone is responsible for this, and I pray to God you find out who it was.”

  “I will.”

  Roseanna walked into the room.

  “If it’s okay, Jackie, I am all finished, and would like to go home.”

  “No problem, Roseanna.” Ms. Minkoff stood up. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Detective. I will be keeping an eye out to see how this investigation is handled.”

  You really don’t want to do that, ma’am, I thought. “I will do my best.”

  I got up and walked toward the door. Roseanna was right behind me. “Take care,” I said to Ms. Minkoff, and opened the door.

  When we made it outside, Roseanna asked, “You don’t have any other questions for me?”

  I thought about that for a moment. My luck had been running incredibly high that day. I figured I might as well throw the dice one more time, just to see what happened.

  “Well, on a non-professional level, I would like to know what you are doing for dinner this evening.”

  “That’s an interesting question, Detective. I guess I should be careful how I answer.”

  I felt the controls of the plane slip. I was heading for a crash, and fast.

  “Answer any way you like.”

  “Okay. I’m not doing anything, and I would be delighted to come to your place for dinner.”

  My place? My place? Jesus, talk about stellar luck. If there wasn’t an innuendo in that response, then there is no such thing as an innuendo.

  “That sounds great. Say, eight?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I gave Roseanna directions. I had first suggested that she take the LIRR, but she said she preferred to drive. I would have to make sure she had a spot to park in. She jotted the directions down, gave me a seductive smile, and got into her car. Man, despite the difficulty I was having,
life was getting good. Maybe there was more to this suspension thing than I had previously thought.

  I raced home. I had plenty of things to do before Roseanna got there. First off, I had to clean. I know that most people would think I was wasting my time with some house cleaning when I should have been out there trying to save my ass. Those people would probably be right, too. The problem was, I needed to get laid, and bad. It’s really hard to focus on a major investigation when you have the baby batter on the brain. I needed to exercise some underused muscles, relieve some stress, and then get focused. Of course, I might have been jumping ahead of myself, but I was going on instinct here. Roseanna wanted one thing, and I would be more than happy to give it to her.

  I started in the living room first. I threw the pizza boxes out. That made the place looks ten times better already. I checked under the couch cushions next, and found about two dollars in change, potato chip crumbs that could fill an entire bag, and four empty packs of cigarettes. I was starting to gross myself out. Was I that dirty? Answer—yes.

  After I went through the living room, I broke out the Windex. I sprayed everything, and came up with more dust than a roll of paper towels could handle. I was most amazed with how much filth was on the television. I always wondered why the damned picture on that thing never looked good. The room even smelled better when I was finished.

  The next trip was to the bedroom. I couldn’t remember the last time I changed my sheets. I went into the closet, got some new ones, and threw them on. Major improvement. The pillow cases I found didn’t match, but they were close enough. I preferred to have clean ones instead of matching ones anyway. The comforter