Murder Wears a Medal

by Donna Doyle

  Troy introduced himself, explaining that they had spoken on the phone and he wanted to stop in to find out if there was anything new on the whereabouts of Eddie Kavlick. He didn’t tell her that he’d done his research before coming in so that he knew a little more about her. He asked if anything was being done about Kavlick, if there were any leads on the car that had been stolen, the car in which Sean’s murder had taken place, and if she knew whether the state police were exploring the possibility of murder.

  “I’ve got a lot of questions.”

  “So I hear.”

  “Oh? Aren’t cops supposed to be inquisitive?”

  She was stapling papers together as she stood in front of him. Her eyes didn’t

  leave his face, and the pace of her stapling didn’t slow down. That was the sign of someone who did a lot of desk work. But she hadn’t trained to become a police officer so that she could master the art of stapling.

  “I always thought so.”

  “You’re a little new on the force.”

  “I was hired at the end of March. My husband and I just moved to the area this year.”

  He realized that she had referred to her husband in order to ward off any romantic gestures. He respected her for that, even though he had no personal interest in her. But an attractive woman working in what was traditionally a man’s world had to set up roadblocks.

  “So when you were hired, Chief Stark was still suspended from the Settler Springs Police Department.”

  A pause. She was, he guessed, assessing why he had made the statement. But even that pause, minor though it was, alerted him that Trooper Callahan was a police officer who noticed things.

  “Leo Page was the acting chief of Settler Springs PD when I was hired.”

  “And now Leo is on suspension. You must wonder what goes on in Settler Springs.”

  She gestured to the stacks of forms on the desk. “I don’t have a lot of time to wonder.”

  Was it natural reserve, or a sense of caution that held her back from offering anything more than the most basic of responses to his comments? He might learn more from her if she decided to trust him, but Troy knew that he’d found out all he was going to find out from her today.

  “If there’s anything new, you’ll let me know?”

  “I’ll call the office,” she answered.

  “The message might not get to me,” he said, knowing that he was taking a risk. If she was aware of the tensions in the Settler Springs force and intended to remain neutral, that was one thing. But if she knew that there were extenuating loyalties on the state police force and she hadn’t decided yet which side she was on, he might find himself at a disadvantage.

  She paused. He’d have bet that she’d been a good soldier, not one to rush into a hasty decision that could have caused harm to her fellow soldiers or to civilians caught in the crossfire in a war that had so many factions with a stake in the outcome.

  “I’ll call the office,” she repeated.

  It was going to have to suffice. He thanked her and left the station. Maybe she was on the up-and-up, maybe she wasn’t, and maybe she just hadn’t made up her mind which side to take. It would have to wait. He had something else to take care of now.

  He parked the police car in the first open space he could find in front of the funeral home, surprised that the spots were all filled. How would Sean’s funeral attract so many mourners?

  He found out when he entered the viewing room. It was packed with members of the Krymanski family. Troy recognized Sean’s father at Skip’s side, both of them in front of the closed casket which was draped with an American flag in recognition of Sean’s military service.

  Steeling himself for what he knew would be a difficult encounter, Troy walked up to Sean’s dad. “Mr. Claypool,” he said. “I’m Troy Kennedy.”

  Sean’s dad’s eyes were red. He nodded mutely as if he were devoid of words.

  “Sean and Troy were good friends,” Skip said.

  “I know. Sean came here to visit Troy and to renew family ties.” Mr. Claypool scanned the crowded room. “I guess he did that. I didn’t think . . . after all the years. He was just ten when we left here.”

  “He had a good visit,” Skip said. “We—” he halted, unable to speak.

  “I don’t understand. He was happy,” Mr. Claypool said forlornly. “He was going to start his own business. Landscaping. He liked working outside, even in the heat. It gets hot in Texas. He didn’t mind. He had a couple of friends who were working with him. He was happy.”

  “He was happy here, too, Mr. Claypool,” Troy said, his voice flat because if he permitted even a hint of feeling into his words, he knew that his reserve would break.

  “Then why—” Mr. Claypool’s voice faltered. “Why would he kill himself if he was happy? I can’t even see him one last time,” he said, beginning to weep as he looked at the closed casket.

  It took everything he had for Troy to maintain his composure. Skip looked as if he were ready to erupt in anger; he and Troy shared a glance that expressed the thoughts they couldn’t communicate in front of Sean’s father. All they had were suspicions. And would it make Mr. Claypool any happier to know that his son was probably not a suicide, but a murder victim?

  “Mr. Claypool, I didn’t know your son, but I know a lot of the members of his family. They honored him at the Memorial Day parade yesterday. Here’s a photograph . . . it’s going to come out in this week’s paper, but the photographer wanted you to have this.”

  Kelly. Dressed soberly in a simple black skirt, white blouse, and low-heeled black shoes. She must have arrived shortly after Troy, he realized; he hadn’t seen her until now. Kelly, saying exactly the right thing and doing the right thing, as always.

  Mr. Claypool looked at the photograph, studying it eagerly, hungrily, his eyes poring over the marching veterans carrying the photographs of Sean.

  Doug Iolus had done excellent work. The photograph was evocative, saying more than an article could hope to say. Kelly had framed the photograph and Mr. Claypool hugged it to him.

  “Thank you, Ms.—I’m sorry, what did you say your name is?”

  “She’s Miz Armello,” piped up Lucas, who had left his mother’s side when he spotted Kelly and Troy. “She’s the librarian. I help out there.”

  “He’s probably a pest,” Skip suggested.

  The rough humor eased the emotion of the moment. Kelly hurried to defend Lucas and Mr. Claypool, the photograph in his grasp, managed a faint smile at the raillery. Troy was on duty and couldn’t stay long; Kelly was on her lunch hour. They signed the memory book and left the funeral home together.

  “That was nice of you to bring that,” Troy said.

  “Doug brought it to the library. Mrs. Stark was there. He gave her a photograph from the parade, when she was standing next to Representative Eldredge, and then he asked me if I’d give the photo from the parade to Sean’s family. She looked surprised, but she couldn’t say anything. Doug is pretty good at seizing the moment.”

  “I went to the state police station to talk to the newest trooper there. I didn’t learn much. But I’m going to try again. I think she knows something’s not right, but she’s not ready to stir things up. I’m going to find out who owned the car they’re saying Sean stole. If it was stolen, somebody must have reported it stolen. Who?”

  “You think that whoever owned the car knew it was being taken?”

  “I don’t know. But Sean’s dad is right. Sean had no reason to kill himself.”

  “But he wasn’t a threat to Chief Stark either. He had no connection to Travis Shaw or drugs or anything that’s part of what’s going on here. He was just visiting you and his family.”

  “I think Sean was killed to warn me from digging any deeper into Stark’s operations,” Troy said. “Mason was abducted to keep Tia scared, scared enough to change her testimony when her ex-husband comes up for trial. Leo was accused of coercing Travis Shaw’s confession and suspended from the force so that h
e has a mark against his reputation; he’s not a credible witness against Shaw. Someone is paving the road so that, when Shaw’s on trial, there’s no one who can accuse him.”

  “Carmela—”

  “Carmela saw him with Mrs. Knesbit’s purse. That just makes him a thief. He’s aiming to get off on a robbery charge. Someone is making that work for him. Maybe that someone is Stark.”

  “Or maybe Rep. Eldredge is helping him.”

  “Maybe. But Sean was murdered. And if he was murdered because Stark wanted to send me a warning, I have to find out what really happened and why. I owe it to Sean.”

  23

  What Side is the State Trooper on?

  The car in which Sean had died had been stolen from a man who lived in Pittsburgh; he’d been on vacation over the holiday week and hadn’t known that his car was missing until he returned. He didn’t sound very happy at the news that the car was involved in a suicide.

  Trooper Callahan delivered the facts in a calm, efficient manner.

  “So the car was stolen from someone who wasn’t home and wouldn’t be home,” Troy presented a synopsis.

  “It seems like it,” she said.

  Troy had been surprised when he’d received the call that she had more information on the car. She simply said that if he had any questions, she could answer them at the station. None of the other officers were present when he went into the office. He wondered if she’d deliberately chosen the time because of the privacy if afforded. Maybe Trooper Callahan had chosen her side.

  “So now what?”

  “The owner is going to talk to his insurance company.”

  “What happens to the car? It’s evidence.”

  “Your friend’s death was ruled a suicide. There’s no need for evidence. The owner of the car will talk to his insurance company. He doesn’t want to keep it.”

  “He was away when the car was stolen.”

  She nodded. “That’s what he said.”

  “What’s his name?”

  She looked at her notepad. “Keith Rigowski. He was away on a vacation for the holiday and doesn’t know anyone who would steal his car to commit suicide in. He doesn’t know why his car was stolen.”

  “His neighbors knew that he was going away?”

  “The whole block seems to have been gone for vacation,” she said, again checking the notepad. “Mr. Rigowski doesn’t understand why his car was stolen.”

  “Where does he work?”

  “He’s on the staff of Representative Eldredge.”

  Troy’s features sharpened at the news. “Eldredge? He’s a friend of the Starks. He’d know if one of his staffers was going to be away.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Did you call the office?”

  “I called about an hour ago and talked to Chief Stark. He thanked me for the information.”

  “Did you tell him that the owner of the car worked for Representative Eldredge?”

  “He didn’t ask. He just said that the case is closed. I’m sorry about your friend. I understand that he was buried on Wednesday. He was a veteran.”

  Troy nodded. “He was a good guy. I’d like to know why he came here to commit suicide. Settler Springs is a long way from Texas.”

  “I don’t have to tell you the signs of a veteran who’s suffering from PTSD.”

  “Sean wasn’t. He’d gotten his life together. He was visiting friends and family, making plans for the holiday weekend . . . he didn’t commit suicide.”

  “The police report says he did.” She wasn’t challenging Troy, he knew. She was providing him with the cut-and-dried verdict from the police. “When I called Chief Stark, he said it’s closed.”

  But Stark hadn’t relayed the information to Troy. Trooper Callahan had been the one to tell him.

  “Stark’s wrong,” Troy said bluntly.

  “The police are no longer investigating the matter,” she said. Her responses were correct and perfunctory. Troy didn’t know whether she had any personal views on the matter. If she did, she was keeping them to herself. But she had disclosed that the car in which Sean had died had been owned by a man who worked for Representative Eldredge.

  “Thank you,” Troy said. “Anything on Kavlick?”

  “There’s no search for him. The assumption is that there wasn’t an abduction; the boy returned home safe and sound and late. He may have made up the abduction story as an excuse for being late.”

  “How old are your kids?”

  “My oldest is ten, my youngest is three.”

  “Would they invent an abduction story as a cover for being late going home? And tell a story about the abductor giving the child a present from the child’s father, who’s in prison?”

  “What sort of present?”

  “A key to the boy’s mother’s apartment. Travis Shaw is the boy’s father and he’s been in prison since February. He was married to Leo Page’s daughter. They’re divorced. Shaw managed to wangle an interview in prison with the local TV news. He said that Leo forced him to sign a confession. That’s when Leo was suspended from the Settler Springs Police Department.”

  Trooper Callahan studied Troy impassively. “There are a lot of details that elicit questions,” she said carefully, “but they have not, so far, raised alarm.”

  “I need to know where Kavlick is. Can you tell me anything?”

  “I don’t know anything. But I’ll see what I can find. Oh, Officer Kennedy,” she said as Troy prepared to leave. “That key to the ex-wife’s apartment . . . ”

  “Yes?”

  “That’s troubling. It could be construed as a deliberate plant from Leo Page to add more guilt onto Shaw.”

  “Leo wouldn’t do that. He didn’t do that. He’d have had to set up the abduction himself and there’s no way Leo would do that to his grandson.”

  “It’s what some might think.”

  Was she warning him without jeopardizing her own neutrality? He couldn’t be sure. “If you hear anything about Kavlick, let me know?”

  “I will.”

  Surely she understood that, in order to hear anything, she was going to have to initiate the investigation into Kavlick’s whereabouts. He left the state police station feeling that even if Trooper Callahan wasn’t an ally, she at least wasn’t an enemy.

  He met Kelly for supper that night; her work was ended for the day and he was taking his break. She seemed much more relaxed now that the Memorial Day program had ended, and mentioned casually, as they waited for their orders to arrive, that she was glad to have her free time back.

  “Memorial Day wasn’t the same this year,” she said. “We have veterans from out of town every year, but they’re returning regulars. Not trouble-makers.”

  “Kavlick is a trouble-maker but no one knows where he’s at and the state police trooper I talked to said there’s no search for him. The assumption is that Mason Shaw made up the story of being abducted because he was scared he’d get in trouble for going home late.”

  “Mason would never have left his bike in the park,” Kelly said quickly. “He loves his bike. Mia got it for him. I see him riding it all the time with his friends.”

  “I think Trooper Callahan understands that.” Then Troy disclosed to her the information that he’d been given from Trooper Callahan: that the car in which Sean had died had been stolen from a member of Representative Eldredge’s staff who was on vacation at the time.

  Kelly stared in disbelief. “Do you think his car was stolen because he wouldn’t be home to report it? But how would—” she came to a halt.

  “Exactly. Eldredge would know if a staffer was on vacation. If he’s as good a friend to the Starks as it seems, he might have told Chief Stark about the vacationing staff member.”

  “Troy, if that’s true, and Eldredge knew that something was up and he told them there was a car that could conveniently be stolen—but it can’t be, Troy, that’s just too much of a stretch. Have you brought this up to Doug?”

  “You’re t
he only person I’ve told.”

  “I think we should tell Doug. He might know someone, maybe even the staffer.”

  “The staff member isn’t likely to know anything; he was on vacation.”

  “But Doug could find out for sure if he had told Eldredge when he’d be away and for how long. I’m not saying the staff member is guilty of anything. But what if his vacation made it convenient for his car to be stolen at a time when the theft wouldn’t be reported?”

  “It’s pretty bad if Eldredge is involved,” Troy said slowly.

  “Of course, it’s pretty bad. But it’s bad enough already. Sean—why would he steal a car?”

  “They believe he stole the car so he could kill himself in it,” Troy replied, not hiding his resentment at the calumny heaped upon his friend.

  “So he managed to get to Pittsburgh to steal a car and then he drove to Doe Crossing to shoot himself? It’s not logical.”

  “It doesn’t have to be logical. There’s no way to disprove it. We have to find a way to prove that Sean had no reason to kill himself. But that means finding a way to make a murder charge stick, and who do we stick it on?”

  “Eddie Kavlick,” Kelly replied promptly. “Mia saw him at the lake, talking to her son. Her son talked to him and went off with him. Mason comes back safe and sound with a present he says is from his father and it’s a key to Mia’s apartment. Kavlick was at the bar and got into a fight with Sean. Sean was arrested even though no one at the bar called the police. Sean is accused of doing some of the break-ins in town, even though several of them happened before he arrived. A car is stolen, and Sean is dead.”

  Troy shook his head. “It’s all speculation. Mason was returned without harm. He has a key to his mother’s apartment; a defense attorney would say that anyone can get a copy of a key made. Chief Stark says he got a call to go to the bar; it doesn’t have to be a call through official channels. He could say he got the word from someone in town who called him. The break-ins . . . that’s just throwing a little extra on the fire to make Sean look like bad news. A past history of drug use and assault, then a bar fight, break-ins . . . it doesn’t prove anything, but it ruins Sean’s reputation. Maybe that’s what Stark wants.”