A Price for Balancing the Scales

by W Earl Daniels

  The day following Cedric’s return to Germany, Huck coordinated with Berger, the attorney, to arrange for the three of them to visit the crime scene. Of course, they were to be accompanied by a policeman. He also learned that there was an effort to keep the identity of the one who found the body a secret. He wondered if that might have something to do with the fact that the call to the police station was made around 11:00 p.m. He further hoped that during the visit to the crime scene, he might gain a clue as to who found the body, more details with respect to the condition of the body, and the assassin’s point of entry to and departure from the representative’s dwelling place.

  At ten o’clock the next morning, all four converged on the representative’s residence, located in an upscale neighborhood on the west side of Frankfurt. Huck would describe the location to be on the fringes of the downtown area.

  Upon arrival, Huck noted that the brick/stone complex was three stories tall, with a large, beautiful balcony on the right side of the second-story level. The property was gated with an eight-foot-high brick wall for security, but even so, the entrance gate was opened. Crime scene tape appeared to encircle the entire property.

  A uniformed police officer awaited Huck, Cedric, and Berger’s arrival at the main entrance. Berger made the introductions to the police officer, whose only response was a nod of the head as he issued each a pair of blue latex gloves for each to put on. Again, although there was a security code box at the entrance of the building, the police officer just turned the doorknob for all to enter.

  Huck raised the question, “Is the security system inoperable?”

  The police officer replied, “It’s only used in the event of a lockdown.” Pointing toward one corner just above the entrance, he said, “There’s a security camera to capture all those entering and exiting the building.”

  “Was it operational the evening of the murder?” asked Cedric.

  “The system is not monitored twenty-four/seven, and at nine thirty p.m., there were no pictures recorded because the perpetrator sprayed the camera lens with black paint,” said the policeman.

  “In other words, there are no recordings of anyone arriving or leaving the complex by way of the main entrance after nine thirty?” questioned Berger.

  “The last recording is that of the state rep entering around seven p.m.”

  “Are there any other security cameras around the complex?” asked Huck.

  By now the police officer’s mannerisms reflected his disgust with so many questions. “I am not allowed to comment about that.”

  “Why not?” asked Huck.

  “Sir, you will have to take that up with my superiors. Shall we enter?”

  The police officer led the way to the main entrance and strolled to a grand circular stairway leading to the top floor.

  When they arrived at the second floor, they could easily see through the entrance to a great room. Across the door was crime scene tape with black-lettered words that read in both German and English “Crime Scene Do Not Enter.”

  The police officer cautioned, “Do not move or reposition anything in the room. You may open drawers or doors, but you may not touch any of the contents. Are there any questions?”

  “If something needs to be disturbed for a better look, will you be able to do that for us?” asked Huck.

  “Should such a situation exist, ask me at that time and I will tell you.”

  “Danke dir,” said Berger to the policeman.

  The policeman nodded.

  The great room was a beautifully furnished sitting room. The only things out of the ordinary were the coffee table lying on its side near the sofa and a large bloodstain on one corner of the sofa. There being no other stains on the sofa, it would appear that this was where the representative was shot.

  When Huck walked around the sofa, he saw stains on the carpet behind the sofa and some on a curtain that bordered the entrance to a rear balcony.

  While Huck examined the sitting room, Cedric went to the third level to view the master bedroom. He called, “Huck and Herr Berger, you might want to see this.”

  When Huck and Berger entered the master bedroom, Cedric had the closet door opened. He pointed inside. Half of the closet contained men’s clothing; the other half contained women’s clothing.

  Huck asked Berger, “Was the representative married?” It was obvious that the representative was not a cross-dresser because the women’s clothing was too small for him.

  Berger replied, “Legally yes, but his wife filed for divorce about eight months before his death. He and his wife were living in Fulda, about one hundred five kilometers northwest of here. When they separated, she remained in their house and he moved here.”

  Cedric looked at Huck and asked, “Huck, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Yes. The one who found the body may have been the mysterious mistress.”

  There was no reaction from the policeman, but it was obvious that he’d overheard the conversation.

  Turning to Berger, Cedric asked, “Are you aware of the representative having a mistress?”

  “No, but it wouldn’t surprise me. It is my understanding that most do.”

  The second bedroom contained no evidence that anyone had ever been in that room.

  Cedric examined the main entrance for any evidence of forced entry while Huck spent some time on the balcony. In addition to a small table and two chairs, he noticed that there was a potted plant in the far left corner of the balcony next to the metal railing. Huck called to the policeman to join him.

  “Sir, could you show me where Herr Rouse’s passport was found?”

  The policeman pointed to the middle branches of the potted plant.

  Looking over the balcony, Huck concluded that for anyone trained in proper landing techniques, it would not have been a difficult drop to the ground from this level. In other words, if one hit the ground on the balls of one’s feet, absorbing the impact with one’s thighs and hips, it would be an easy leap. He had done it several times in parachute landing falls.

  Cedric said, “Huck, there is absolutely no evidence of forced entry. Either the person who entered was someone the representative knew or they entered by way of the balcony.”

  Huck countered, “There is another possibility, Cedric. The perpetrator entered by way of the door and departed by way of the balcony.”

  “Are you saying the representative knew the perpetrator?”

  “No, I’m saying that he may have thought he knew the person on the other side of the door. In particular, if he was expecting someone, he may have opened the door without looking to see who it was.”

  “In other words, he may have thought the person to be his mistress. And her arrival so soon after the murder may have caused the perpetrator to leave by way of the balcony. With his departure, he planted Rouse’s passport in the plant, knowing the police would find it there.”

  “That’s a good possibility, Huck, since the lens of the camera had been covered with black paint and would not have recorded anyone’s entrance.”

  “You’re right. Let’s go back to the fact that the passport was found in the potted plant. That may be where the perpetrator made his mistake. Rouse is right-handed. If he left near the potted plant, he would have stood on his left foot and threw his right leg over first. That would have caused the passport, if it had accidentally dropped from his pocket as the police believe, to have fallen farther away from the plant to the floor or to the ground beneath the balcony. It is highly unlikely that it would have fallen in the plant. For it to have been in the plant makes me think it was placed there.”

  Berger had been listening intently to the conversation between Huck and Cedric. “How do we prove that scenario?” he asked.

  “That’s the hard part. But it’s a theory that is just as viable as the one the police are suggesting. I have seen all
I need to see. Anyone need to see anymore? If not, I suggest that we leave.” Turing to Berger, Huck said, “I would like for you to see if you can obtain the name of the person who found the body. That should be evidence the prosecutor would be required to provide to you.”

  After exiting the house, Huck and Cedric departed for their hotel to plan their next move. Berger returned to his office after thanking the policeman for his assistance.

  Chapter 19

  Mary Harris arrived at LAX as scheduled. When she cleared US Customs, she was met by her driver of eight years, who told her that he had already secured one piece of her luggage and would return to baggage claim for the other piece. Her bags were easily distinguishable because each piece had her name emblazoned on both sides.

  The driver said, “Ms. Harris, your car is just outside the baggage claim entrance. I have paid someone to watch it.”

  She replied, “Thank you, Elmo. I hope you have had some quiet time with your family while I have been gone.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you very much.”

  As Elmo turned to retrieve the second bag, Harris exited baggage claim. She could easily see her car because it was a bright-yellow Volkswagen Beetle convertible. The Beetle was the perfect vehicle for driving around her safe place, Catalina Island.

  Harris had arrived at Catalina Island nine years earlier. At that time, she was told that the waiting list for having a vehicle on the island was fifteen years. She knew that it would be only a short period of time before she would discover to whom the right amount of money could move her up on the waiting list. Within a month, her car was delivered to the island.

  In a short time, her driver returned with her two bags and placed them in the back of the car. Five minutes later, they were on Interstate 5 south toward Newport Beach. There a vehicle transport boat would be waiting to carry her approximately thirty miles to the village of Avalon on Catalina Island.

  There her home, as she described it, overlooked the village and the beautiful blue Pacific Ocean. Others on the island did not hesitate to call her home a mansion. It had become a tourist attraction over the years, much like that of William Wrigley Jr., the confectionery magnate who purchased controlling interest of Santa Catalina Island in 1919.

  As the transport boat carrying her, her driver, and the Beetle buffeted the waves toward the island, Harris, alone with her thoughts, leaned on the boat’s railing and watched the water pound its side. Then, as she had done so many times before, she slowly let the phone she held in her hand slip into the sea. Over the years, she had fed many phones to the fishes. Now she was heading home. She thought, It’s always good to get back home, even when home is a tourist attraction most of the year.

  Sitting in their hotel room with the TV blaring, Huck and Cedric considered their options. While they had discovered several truths, none were sufficient to change the current balance in the scales. Although justice had some compelling circumstantial evidence, there was still one piece missing from the Rouse case—motive.

  A motive of money was doubtful because there had been no increase in Carl’s bank account since he left the marines. His mother was paying for his defense with the help of a meager “GoFundMe for the Truth” account. The best Huck and Cedric could determine was that Carl was as much a victim as the dead representative. Without a stronger case, Carl’s life as he had known it only weeks earlier was over.

  Running out of potential witnesses, dead ends and speculations were not cutting it for Huck and Cedric. With future courses of action dwindling, it was time for a more direct approach, even if it meant crossing the line in what some would deem a questionable manner.

  Huck said, “We really need to identify and question the representative’s mistress. She probably would know if the rep had any enemies. Barring that immediate possibility, I propose another two-pronged approach. The first prong is for you to go to Berlin to learn from other representatives and lobbyists their perspective as to why the representative was killed. You may have to shake some of those trees to their roots.”

  Cedric commented, “I can do that. But before I go to Berlin, I’m going to call a former German agent who I worked with several years ago to find out if there is anyone in the BND who can identify one state representative who may be the weaker of the lobbyists’ targets. We don’t have time to spin our wheels against a cement wall.” Cedric knew that Huck was aware that the BND was the equivalent to the CIA.

  “Good idea,” said Huck. “I plan to travel to Turkey to put some pressure, if possible, on the president and CEO of the Kaplan Company. I know there will not be any admission of involvement in the assassination, but the mere knowledge that we are looking into his operations may result in his inadvertently dropping a nugget that might be helpful to us.”

  “Huck, if something doesn’t come out of the woodwork soon, we might as well go home.”

  “Cedric, I’m still thinking that the mistress might just know more than she thinks she does. I’m going to remind Berger to work on getting her name. I think he has a good argument that without full disclosure, he can’t properly prepare Carl’s defense.”

  “OK. I’ll need the rest of the day to make some phone calls and to strategize an approach. My plans are to launch tomorrow.”

  “Good. When I call to book my flight to Turkey, I will book yours to Berlin.”

  “I’ll see you around seven o’clock for dinner,” Cedric said as he left Huck and entered his bedroom to prepare for his upcoming travel.

  Harris thought that returning to her home and being in her peaceful and familiar surroundings would relieve her concerns and anxiety about having left some loose ends in Germany. That did not turn out to be the case. She now knew that she would feel better only when those ends were tied up—and it needed to be done quickly. Using another throwaway phone, she telephoned her European contact, located in Paris.

  When he answered, she said in her most manly voice, “This is Mr. S.” Using the name Mr. S. identified to her Paris contact that they would be talking about their most recent hit. For each hit, she used a different man’s name.

  “Oui, Monsieur S. How may I help you?”

  “The last rug we worked on may have a fringe that needs to be clipped.”

  “Will payment for the clipping be the same?”

  “Double. There is one end to be clipped. And there are possibly two weaves in the carpet that may need to be removed. Are you available?”

  “Oui. Could you provide more clarification as to the clipping and the troublesome weaves?”

  “Yes. The one clipping required is in the office of our last job.”

  The Paris contact instantly knew that Mr. S. was talking about the receptionist, Fräulein Walker.

  “And the location of the weaves that need to be removed?”

  “I’m not sure of their exact location. However, my best guess is in the hallway runner to the office of the attorney representing one of our former students.”

  The Paris contact easily surmised that while Mr. S. did not know the names of the hits, he believed from surveillance of those going into and out of Rouse’s attorney’s office that the so-called runners could be identified. The term runners indicated the individuals to be hit.

  “Mr. S., is there anything more specific that I need to know about the runners, and do you think I may need assistance?”

  “I caution you about the runners because, although they may be difficult to identify in such a fine fabric, they may be more difficult to remove in a manner that does not draw attention.”

  “Will the work require assistance or supervision?”

  “No as to supervision; you make all other decisions. If you need help, I will give you a number where you can reach the Irishman.”

  “Please do. I may need his help.”

  After giving the Parisian the Irishman’s telephone number, Mr. S. said, “I emphasiz
e that this job needs to be done soon before the carpet gets more attention than just that of management. Be careful, because even in carpet work, accidents do happen.” This was Harris’s way of telling the contact that she wanted the hit to look like an unfortunate accident.

  “I’ll see to it right away. I will notify you should I anticipate any complications. You may decide if there needs to be modifications to this delicate work.”

  “Only call me if either there is no other option or the job is complete.” Harris closed out their conversation.

  Immediately after his call with Mr. S., the Paris contact called his previous partner in Dublin, Ireland. He said, “Need to clean up a job in Frankfurt immediately. Call me upon your arrival. I will pick you up at the baggage claim exit.”

  The morning after Huck and Cedric had laid out their future investigative plans, Huck made his airline reservations for Istanbul, Turkey. He planned to make a cold call to the Kaplan Company. To ask for an appointment gave Kaplan the time either to not be available or to be out of town.

  He also made the Berlin reservation for Cedric. Cedric had wanted the morning to talk with a former associate who now worked for the BND.

  After the traditional German greetings, Cedric got right to the point. “My name is Cedric Smart, retired CIA, and I need to get a message to one of your retired employees. His name is Leonardo Sniderhouse. Tell him that Thunderbolt needs to talk to him immediately. It’s very important. You will be able to contact him right away, correct?”

  “Ya. Your number, please?”