Cash Call, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 5

by William Manchee

  Chapter 20

  The Alibis

  The next day while I was going through the mail Jodie handed me a phone message from Herb Winters of Prime Lending Bank. I crumpled up the note in disgust. I knew why he was calling--more bad news for the Golden Dragon partners. I wondered how much more adversity they could stand before they just gave up. Giving up was the worst thing they could do because then their adversaries could walk right over them. But the human spirit can only take so much. I dialed the number. Herb got right to the point.

   "We've been advised that your client shut down the restaurant. We were really shocked to hear it. I knew they had an embezzlement, but I had thought the partners had covered that loss," Herb said.

   "We thought so too, but Luther apparently wasn't doing such a great job managing the place. They've been losing money from the get go and didn't even know it. The landlord finally locked them out."

   "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. I really thought they had a gold mine. Anyway, we need to talk about their loan. I would have called them directly, but I knew you were representing them, so I figured I better call you."

   "Well, we haven't figured out yet how to deal with the bank's loan. The lockout has stopped the cash flow, so things are looking pretty grim."

   "We either need to get the loan paid off, or arrange to pick up the collateral."

   "What's the balance due?"

   "$105,500 as of September 30th."

   "What do you think you can get for the collateral?"

   "Not more than twenty to thirty cents on the dollar, so you're still looking at a $70-80,000 deficiency."

   "If the partners get hit with a $20,000 cash call we're going to have to have paramedics on standby to resuscitate them from heart failure."

   "I'm sorry Stan, but we've got the bank examiners in next week and we've got to move on this problem quickly. They'll be all over us if we're lackadaisical about it."

   "Okay, let me talk to the partners and see what they want to do."

   "Fine, call me tomorrow," Herb said.

   I wasn't anxious to call Don or Jim to tell them the bank's position. No telling what another jolt like this would do to them. Unfortunately, I had no choice in the matter. Jodie got Don on the line for me. I told him about the call from Herb Winters.

   "Oh, shit," he moaned as Pam picked up another extension.

   "What's wrong?" she asked.

   Don said, "We've got to pay our note--$105,000."

   "What note?" Pam moaned.

   "The equipment loan. If we don't pay it we have to surrender the collateral, and they'll still sue us to cover their losses."

   I could hear Pam's muffled crying. She must have been holding the phone up to her chest. My heart went out to her. She had suffered so much.

   "So, that's about $20,000 each?" Don asked.

   "Right," I said.

   "Oh Jesus! We don't have $20,000. We just can't pay it. Let them sue us!" Pam screamed.

   I waited a moment and then said, "If you don't come up with the money then they can sue each of you for the entire $80,000. You're all jointly and severally liable."

   "We could lose everything if we don't stick together and all take care of this obligation," Don said.

   "Is there ever going to be an end to this?" Pam moaned. "Why don't we call all our creditors and just invite them over to the house and they can take everything?! Damn it! I can't believe this!"

   "I'm sorry, honey. I know it was a big mistake getting into this franchise, but it's history now. We've just got to survive this ordeal somehow."

   "I don't know if I can take any more," Pam said. "This is just too much to handle. I just can't sit around and watch our life fall apart. It's much too painful."

   Pam hung up the phone.

   "I'm sorry, Stan. I've got to go. I'll talk to Jim and we'll get back to you. Right now I've got to talk to Pam. She's been threatening to take Donna and go to her parent's place in Seattle."

   "Oh, no!" I said. "Go ahead. Go talk to her. If I can do anything let me know, okay?"

   "I will. Thanks."

   I felt sick inside and helpless. I hadn't been able to do much to help Don and Pam. If only they had come to see me before they got into the Golden Dragon venture I might have been able to steer them away from it.

   The following day, Jim called me early in the morning. By the tone of his voice I could tell he hadn't taken the news well either. I had never seen anyone fall on hard times so fast. I wanted so badly to figure out a way to save them, but I couldn't think of a damn thing other than a chapter 11. Unfortunately, they wouldn't consider bankruptcy, so there was nothing I could do but watch their lives crumble.

   "I'm sorry about the bank, Jim," I said.

   "We'd like you to contact them and arrange to let them have the collateral so they can liquidate it. Then when they know what the deficiency is we'll each send you our share and you can pay it."

   "You know, if they sell the collateral they'll get next to nothing for it. We might want to find a buyer ourselves. I bet we could get fifty cents on the dollar instead of ten or twenty."

   "How would we do that?"

   "We can contact GD Enterprises in California. They might know of some new franchises where the equipment could be used. It's damn near brand new equipment."

   "That's a good idea," Jim said. "Will you do that for us?"

   "Sure. If we find a buyer, then I'll arrange to sell it to them and get a release from the bank. I think you'll save quite a bit of money doing it this way."

   "Okay, good idea. Thanks for the tip."

   "No problem," I said. "Keep your fingers crossed. I'll call you if I get a buyer."

   "Great."

   There was silence on the line. I sensed Jim had something else to tell me.

   "Everything else okay?" I said.

   "No, the police came by last night."

   "Detective Besch?"

   "Yeah. I told him I didn't want to talk without you present but he asked a bunch of questions anyway."

   "Like what?"

   "Like what I was doing the night Luther was murdered."

   "You didn't say anything to him, did you?"

   "No."

   "What were you doing the night of the murder? Wanda wasn't sure where you went that night. "

   "I hung out at a strip club, the Sunset Strip."

   "Well, good. Hopefully someone saw you there."

   "At least one of the girls should remember me."

   "Which one?"

   "Julie. I've been there a few times before. She likes me."

   "Really? Well, I'll pay a visit to the club and see if I can talk to her."

   "Yes, talk to her. I'm sure she'll verify that I was there when Luther was killed."

   "Good. . . . Is Besch going to call me to set up an interview?"

   "Yes. That's what he said he'd do. . . . He also said you had a conflict of interest. What did he mean by that?"

   "Well, if you are charged with Luther's murder I couldn't represent you because that might require me to try to prove Don was the murderer. Obviously I couldn't do that since he is a client. . . . But as long as nobody has been charged, I can investigate Luther's murder as a part of my representation of the Golden Dragon Partnership in its claim against Luther's estate."

   "Oh. Well, I'd just as soon you represent everybody. The last thing we need is a dozen lawyers sucking us dry."

   "I'll call you if I hear from Detective Besch."

   "Thanks, Stan."

   I immediately called GD Enterprises in California but Howard Hurst was out of the office. His secretary said she'd have him call just as soon as he returned. A few hours later he called and said he would check and see if any of the other franchisees needed additional equipment. He seemed positive.

  The next day, Don called me to let me know Detective Besch had been questioning his neighbors. I told him he was just confirming his
alibi. He wanted to be sure they were at home on the night of the murder. I told him not to worry about it and then decided to do my own alibi checking. Margie had told me she went to the Rendezvous Club and a movie on the night of the murder. I wondered if she had been telling the truth, so I decided to go over there and see if anyone remembered her. It was early and the happy hour crowd was just beginning to wander in. I started with the bartender. I introduced myself and gave him my card.

  "I wonder if you might answer a few questions?"

   "It depends on the questions."

   I pulled out a photograph of Margie I had clipped from the newspaper and handed it to the bartender. "Last Wednesday night this young lady claims to have been in here between nine and ten. She would have been with a girlfriend. Were you on duty that night?"

   "Yes."

   "Do you remember seeing them?"

   The bartender looked at the photo very carefully moving it around to get a better light on it. I stared at the bartender waiting for his response but nothing happened. Then I realized this was the moment I was supposed to pull out my wallet and start offering cash. I sighed, then pulled out a twenty dollar bill and laid it on the counter.

   His eyes lit up like someone had thrown a switch. "Oh yeah, sure, they came in about nine and were picked up by couple of cowboys. They had a few drinks, danced a little bit, and then left about nine thirty or ten."

   "You can't pin the time down a little closer?"

   "Hey, I don't make the customers punch a time clock. That's the best I can do."

   "Okay. Did they leave alone or were they with the cowboys?"

   "I'm not sure, they just left."

   "All right, thanks. I appreciate your cooperation."

   The thirty minutes between nine thirty and ten were critical. If they left at nine thirty, Margie would have had time to go home and kill Luther, but if she had left any later she probably wouldn't have. The bartender's testimony wasn't a big help except that he did verify that Margie and her friend were at the bar just like she said. I wondered if Jim's alibi would hold up as well. I decided to pay a visit to the Sunset Strip while I was out.

   It was noon and businessmen were pouring into the club for the free lunch buffet. After leaving my Corvette with the parking attendant, I paid the cover charge, handed my card to the doorman and asked to see the manager. He asked me to get a table, and he would have the manager come out to talk to me. As I was waiting, a tall brunette came over and began to dance for me. At first I tried to ignore her, but she got her breasts up so close to my face I couldn't move. Finally, I pulled out a five dollar bill and stuck it in her g-string, hoping she'd move on to the next table. She didn't. Instead she began circling me with one hand on my shoulder. Then she started rubbing my shoulders and nibbling at my neck. I closed my eyes about to succumb to her charm, when I heard someone say, "You wanted to speak with me?"

   I opened my eyes and saw a tall man hovering over me. I stood up and the dancer moved on. "Oh, hi. Are you the manager?"

   "Yes. What do you want?"

   "Right. I'm Stan Turner. I'm an attorney. I wonder if I could ask a few questions of you and your girls."

   "All of them?"

   "Well, if you don't mind. I'm investigating a homicide. A couple of my clients are suspects in a recent murder and I need to know if anybody in your club saw a certain person here last Wednesday night. It's very important."

   "Does he have a name?"

   "Jim Cochran."

   "I don't know him, but I suppose you can talk to the girls during their breaks."

   "Okay, How often do they get breaks?"

   "Each girl has a ten minute break every hour. Just go ahead on into their dressing room and catch them while they're getting dressed."

   I gave him a double take. "They won't mind that?"

   "Are you kidding? They love to have men watch them. That's why they're dancers."

   "Hmm. All right," I said as I stood. I thanked him and made my way to the dressing room door. I hesitated, swallowed hard, then opened the door and walked in. Naked women were scurrying about all around me. They didn't seem to notice my presence. For a moment I just stood there mesmerized, then I went up to the first dancer I saw and said, "Hi miss, Sorry to disturb you, my name is Stan Turner." I noticed a sign on the mirror that read Ruby.

   She gave me a wry smile. "Couldn't get a good enough view from your table, huh?" Ruby said.

   I chuckled. "No, the view at the table was fine. That's not why I'm here. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind?"

   "Who the hell did you say you were?"

   "Stan Turner. I'm an attorney investigating a murder. My client, Jim Cochran, claims to have been here last Wednesday night. I just wondered if you might remember seeing him."

   She stood up straight. I couldn't help but gaze at her fine breasts. She seemed amused. She asked, "What does he look like?"

   I looked up and smiled. "Oh," I said, and then reached for a photograph of Jim which I had put in my shirt pocket. I handed it to her. She studied it a minute, looked up and said, "He looks familiar. I think he was here. Let me ask Candy. She'd know."

   Ruby led me to the other end of the dressing room. I smiled at all the pretty women applying makeup and putting on their costumes. Ruby stopped in front of a red-headed dancer who was putting on a long silver cocktail dress.

   Ruby sat on a stool next to her and held Jim's picture out where she could see it. "Do you remember this guy?"

   She nodded. "Yeah, I hope he comes back soon. He's a big spender. He dropped a fifty on me for a two-minute lap dance."

   "When was that?" I asked."

   Candy thought a moment and then replied, "Last Wednesday night, if my recollection serves me right."

   "When did he arrive?"

   "I'm not sure, I gave him the lap dance a little after eight, just before my break."

   "When did he leave?"

   "Oh gee . . . I don't know, maybe nine thirty . . . or ten. I really don't know for sure."

   "Did he talk to you?"

   "Not much, he was just mainly watching the girls. We didn't say much to each other, just small talk, you know."

   "Did he talk to any of the other girls?"

   "Sure, I think Julie, Julie Iverson. She spent some time with him. She's out with the flu today, or I'd go find her for you."

   "Oh, she is?"

   "Yeah. She said she'd be back in a few days. She didn't want to infect any of the rest of us."

   "Right . . . makes sense. I'll have to come back next week then, I guess."

   "I guess so. Unless you want to stop by her apartment. It's just down the street."

   I thought about that for a moment but dismissed the idea as being imprudent. It would be better to meet her in a public place for obvious reasons. Besides, I didn't want to get the flu. I could wait a few days.

   "Well, that's okay. I'll wait. Thanks for your help."

   "Our pleasure."

   I turned and walked slowly toward the door savoring the last few seconds of my visit to the Sunset Strip dressing room. After leaving the club, I got into my car and, as I drove away, I was already looking forward to my return visit.

  When I got back to the office, a message from Rob was waiting for me. I dialed the number and he picked up immediately.

   "Hi, Mr. Turner. I'm sorry to bother you, but you said to call if anything came up."

   "Right. No problem. What's up?"

   "I just wanted to let you know the meeting with my parents didn't go so well."

   "Oh, no. What happened?"

   "We went over there last night and told them that we had decided to get married and keep the baby. Well, they went ballistic. Dad said I was throwing my baseball career out the window and Mom was worried about college. I was hoping they'd be more understanding--like you were when I told you our plans?"

   "They're under a tremendous amount of stress ri
ght now. Their lives are falling apart and they aren't thinking straight. You just need to be patient with them."

   "I know. But I'm worried. They both seem to be getting more and more depressed every day. Mom spends most of the time in her room and Dad stares at the TV but has no clue what's on."

   "Oh, God. We may need to get them some therapy. I would certainly need it if I were in their shoes."

   "I'm worried about Donna too. Greg is old enough to handle it, but Donna doesn't understand what's happening. Mom is pretty much ignoring her and Dad yells at her all the time. I wish she could come live with Jennifer and me, so we could watch out for her. She's the only one who is excited about the baby and having Jennifer as a sister."

   "Well, you can't take Donna away. Pam would definitely go crazy if you did that. . . . Do you go to church? Is there a minister you can call?"

   "No, my parents aren't very religious. They go to church occasionally, but I wouldn't know who to call."

   "Okay, I'll talk to them and see if they will get some counseling. There's a therapist who works in my building who is pretty good."

   "Thank you, Stan. I know this isn't a legal matter, but I didn't know who else to talk to."

   "No problem. Just keep your head up and let me know if I can help in any way."

   Rob hung up and I called Don. I didn't tell him that Rob had called. I asked him how he and Pam were holding up. He said they were okay. I told him about the therapist I knew. He said he would talk to Pam and maybe they would go see her. Somehow I knew that would never happen. Clients too often didn't seek help until it was too late.

   As I was getting ready to leave I went through the mail. There was a letter from International Tracing Service.

   Dear Mr. Turner,

   We are pleased to advise you we have found Marvin Schwartz. In checking social security records we located his last employer, the First Baptist Church of McAllen, Texas. They advised us he no longer worked for them but were able to give us the address and telephone number of a next of kin, Bridget Schwartz-Christopher of Fort Worth, Texas. Upon contacting her we were able to locate the subject. He is now residing in the New Hope Cemetery in Boerne, Texas. We are enclosing a death certificate as proof that we have found the subject. An invoice for our services is enclosed for your convenience. It has been a pleasure doing business with you.

   Sincerely,

   Margaret Weller

  Account Manager

  The death certificate indicated the cause of death was a gunshot wound to the head. Marvin Schwartz had been murdered. I immediately called Melanie to tell her the news.

   "Murdered?"

   "Yes--probably by the people who were expecting Schwartz to deliver the diamonds to them."

   "So, since he's dead there's no way anyone can trace the diamonds to you. We can sell them now and collect the cash, right?"

   "What if he told them I had the diamonds?"

   "That's not likely. The fact he's dead means he didn't talk."

   "Not necessarily. It could mean he did talk so they didn't need him anymore."

   Melanie sighed deeply. "So, what do you want to do?"

   "I'd rather have the diamonds in tact to give to the rightful owners. It's the only way to keep them from killing us."

   "But if they don't show up, then we can sell them, right?'

   "Right," I agreed. "Let's just hold off a little while. I don't want to make a mistake and end up dead. If they know we have them we should be hearing from them in the next week or so."

   "Okay. You're probably right. Let me know when you think it's safe to sell them."

   "I will. Thanks for your patience, Melanie. I know you probably need your fifty grand commission, but it won't do you any good if you're dead."

   "No problem. I understand."

   "Okay, then. I'll call you."

   "You know. If you want to meet for happy hour again, I wouldn't mind. I really had a great time the other night."

   I hesitated. "Right. That was a fun evening, but we should probably keep our relationship strictly business, me being married and everything. Thanks for the offer, though. It's definitely tempting."

   Melanie's offer was indeed tempting and after I'd hung up it took all my strength not to call her back and make the date. I wanted her so badly and not being able to have her was frustrating beyond belief. Why was I so weak when it came to beautiful women. It was my curse.