by Bill Evans
Lisa was surprised by Stewart’s admission.
“I have the same policy on you as well as your news director, general sales manager, and chief engineer. It is written in everyone’s agreement that we contract with.”
“I never knew this. I don’t remember anyone ever raising the issue and I don’t recall seeing this in my contract,” Lisa countered.
“It’s there,” Stewart assured her. “Unfortunately, most people never read the fine print. So, they don’t know to ask about it.”
Lisa was overwhelmed with Stewart’s generosity, and her other thoughts had disappeared as he calmly explained his actions. This gave her a sense of real innocence that she wanted to believe in. She embraced Stewart and passionately parted his lips with her kiss. Money and truth made a strong aphrodisiac. The prime rib could wait. Lisa was going to give Stewart his gift—a night of lovemaking he would remember.
***
The evening flew by and nothing else was said about the investigation or what Lisa had thought. Before leaving, she reminded Stewart that the two detectives would be at his house in the morning.
Lisa drove home that night ecstatic. The bonus would prove to her husband that her years of late meetings and toiling for Stewart had paid off.
Dugan showed Lisa to the door and came back into the residence. “You think she suspects anything?”
“I think being up front with her about the life insurance policy and giving her the bonus helped her get over any of her suspicion. Are you sure the police don’t have anything else?” Stewart asked Dugan.
“There is nothing to connect us to any of this except circumstances that you can explain away. This is going to go down as an unsolved case,” Dugan reassured his boss. “They have nothing.”
***
At ten thirty the next morning, the two detectives pulled up to the estate of Stewart Simpson. In all their years on the police department for Santa Barbara, neither one had ever been through the gates at Home Ranch Estates. Dugan met their car and escorted the two into the home. Stewart was in the library. He thought this room gave him a position of authority that would intimidate the detectives. Surely, the common cops would be overwhelmed.
“Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to have you in my home. Stewart Simpson. And you are?” Stewart reached his hand out to shake his visitors’ hands.
“Detective Skip Reynolds.”
“Detective Richard Tracy.”
“Did your parents not like you? What were the chances they’d name you Dick Tracy and you’d turn out to be a detective?”
Reynolds chuckled. Tracy had been there and done that so many times before that it didn’t bother him at all. He was impressed that Stewart actually said what he knew others thought and wanted to say.
“Mr. Reynolds and Mr. Tracy, may I offer you a beverage?” Dugan was always the perfect host. “I can get you a water, Coke, or Diet Coke if you’d like. I have wine or something a little harder if you prefer.”
Stewart watched the two mull over the offer of a morning cocktail. He was a master at observing behaviors and picking up on anything that might help him be in total control of his situation.
“I’ll have a Diet Coke, please,” Tracy said.
“Me, too,” Reynolds chimed.
“Very well, I’ll be right back.” Dugan left the room to fetch the beverages.
“I understand you have some questions for me regarding the deaths of my two employees. Please have a seat.” Stewart took his seat in the big chair opposite the couch.
Reynolds started as the three took their seats around what appeared to the detectives to be a very old antique table.
“Mr. Simpson, we appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with us. We turned up a couple of things that we needed to get some clarification on and they’re tied back to you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Dugan returned to the room with a tray carrying three drinks and three glasses.
“I hope I can be of some help to you. Please ask away.”
“Steve Johnson, it turns out, had two life insurance policies through the station. One policy every employee receives, we understand, as part of their company benefits. There was a second policy held by you. You actually got $500,000 when Steve Johnson turned up dead. Can you explain that to us?” Tracy asked.
“It’s quite simple, really. I hold life insurance policies on several key employees, including my main news talent, some key department heads, and my general manager. The policy covers my investment in these people. I learned a long time ago that I needed to cover myself in case I lose them. People who are responsible for the profitability of my companies.”
“Are the employees aware of this policy?” Tracy asked.
“It’s written into their employment agreements. If they read their agreements before they signed them, then they should know. I assume they know about this clause. It’s never been an issue.”
“What about Jesse Anderson?” Reynolds asked.
“No, I didn’t hold a policy on her,” Stewart responded. “She was, no disrespect intended, a low-level employee, as I understand it.”
“We know that, sir. We wanted to know what your relationship was with her.”
“I didn’t have a relationship with Miss Anderson. I only knew her because of this incident.” Stewart became stern.
“I thought you recommended to Barry Burke, the news director, that he hire this girl.”
“Yes, detective, I did in fact make a recommendation. I don’t remember how it came about, but someone I knew asked me if I could give this girl a job to help her career get started. I get job and recommendation requests all the time. You know, I once owned a network of stations around the country, so people always came to me looking for opportunities. I remember making one call to Mr. Burke asking him to take a look at her for an entry-level position. I didn’t follow up on it, so I didn’t know if he hired her or not. It was only after she was dead did I find that out.”
Dugan was just outside the room where he could hear the conversation. He was surprised that the detectives had as much as they did. He hoped they were done with their questioning.
“Mr. Simpson, who was the person that asked you for that favor to hire Miss Anderson?” Reynolds asked.
“I don’t remember. It was several months ago,” Stewart said.
“Well, if you could remember a name that would be helpful,” Detective Reynolds said.
Stewart thought that if they wanted a name he’d get them a name. There were plenty of people that would take this task on for him.
“I’ll try and remember. If it comes to me I will give you a call. By the way, have you determined a cause of death?”
“No. The coroner believes a poison of some kind was used in such a way that there was no trace of it found anywhere,” Tracy said. “We haven’t gotten the full toxicology report back. That will be in a few weeks still. We know that these two deaths were not accidental.”
“Mr. Simpson, we really appreciate your time,” Reynolds said. “If you could think of the person who asked you to recommend Jesse Anderson to Barry we would like to talk to them. We may have more questions later on. Will you be staying awhile?”
“I come and go a lot due to business. If you need me at any time, I will arrange to be here as quickly as possible. And if I think of the person’s name, I will call you. Dugan will show you both out. Thank you again for coming out here to meet me.” Stewart stood to make sure the detectives knew the meeting was over.
Dugan, right on cue, came into the room to escort the two men from the library, walking them to the door. As the detectives drove away from the estate they weren’t quite sure what to think.
“I don’t know, Skip. His explanations seem plausible. I didn’t get the feeling he was hiding anything,” Richard said to his partner. “We still don’t have any real evidence to tie anyone to these murders.”
Richard’s cell phone rang as they were driving back to the police station. Barry Bur
ke’s name popped up on his screen. “Yeah, Barry.”
“How’d your meeting go with Mr. Simpson?” he asked.
“We’re just now leaving. Nothing really new to report. He answered our questions,” Tracy said.
“If you guys have time, why not swing by the station? I’ll get Lisa and let’s compare all our notes again to see if we have anything new.” Lisa was anxious to meet with them to hear what they got from Stewart. She was trying to put all her pieces together without sharing all that she knew.
“We can do that. See you in thirty minutes.” Richard hung up the cell phone and told Skip to head to CBS.
***
Stewart and Dugan didn’t say much to each other when the detectives left. The two were men of few words, so that wasn’t unusual. Their history was over forty years, and by now, Dugan was the closest thing to family Stewart had.
Once Dugan completed the cleanup, he went off to his private suite to retire for the evening. For the most part, he had always lived at the residence. Twenty-two years ago, he lost his wife and son when they were killed by a drunk driver. He practically fell apart, but through Stewart Simpson’s intervention got the help he needed to go forward. It was at that time that he moved to the residence, whether in Santa Barbara or in Dallas. Dugan had lost his one love of his life. The rest of his life would be spent serving Stewart Simpson.
Simpson made sure Dugan had privacy by building him a thirty-five-hundred- square-foot wing of his own that connected to the main house. Simpson made sure he kept Dugan safe and without the worries of what people with a normal life would experience. Dugan did the same for Stewart Simpson, but in a much different way.
He retired to his wing of the house and sat down at his computer. From a hiding place known only to him he took out a USB flash drive and plugged it into its port. This was the last thing Dugan did every night before closing his eyes. He proceeded to document the day, his version of a modern day diary. Stewart Simpson would explode if he knew about this.
Dugan learned a long time ago from Stewart that protecting yourself and information was key. He trusted his life to his boss, but he also knew that his knowledge of how Stewart Simpson operated his life and gained his fortune might make him a casualty at some point. He never intended to use this information, but he felt safer having it. Dugan understood the same information would incriminate him as much as Stewart Simpson if it every came out or was discovered.
Dugan wrote in great detail—dates, times, people’s names, and a full, detailed commentary that accurately told the stories as he experienced them. Over the years, this file had accumulated stories that fiction writers couldn’t even imagine. Names of politicians and business leaders—the crooked ones and not crooked ones—were all listed in chronological order dating back to the 1960s when Dugan first started. He documented an incident in 1975 when he committed his first felony for Stewart Simpson. There would be others.
The early notes were handwritten or typed. Later, when computers became the norm, Dugan spent hours transferring his writings to disc. Through each evolution of technology he would transfer his documents, destroying the original copies. There was only one record and he was the only keeper of the record.
Sometimes he would fantasize what would happen if something unforeseen happened to him. Would someone other than Stewart find this documentation? The materials could be used to bribe Stewart or put him away for life. His plan was to destroy these records once his boss died. Dugan thought that Detectives Skip Reynolds and Richard Tracy would be very interested in the writings of October 8 through 10, 2005.
***
The detectives pulled into the television station parking lot and went up to the receptionist, who paged Barry. The news director greeted the two and the trio made their way back to Lisa’s office. She didn’t want to be in the conference room. Her office was more discrete.
Lisa worried about what she should share, if anything. Should she tell the detectives about the money Stewart had given her last night? It was her year-end bonus. In her mind, she thought it could be hush-money. Her knowledge of the steak and lobster dinner her owner had the same night that Steve Johnson had steak and lobster seemed like evidence and not coincidence. Lisa thought that her twenty-year history with Stewart might become part of this case if the detectives knew more about that part of her life. She might even become a suspect.
“So, what do you two think of Stewart Simpson?” Lisa asked.
“The house is beautiful. Mr. Simpson is a very sharp individual,” Tracy said.
“I was surprised at how upfront he was about everything. He seemed very cooperative,” Reynolds added. “We asked him about the insurance policy and he explained that this is something he has done with key people that manage or have key roles in his company.”
“He mentioned he held insurance policies on the two of you. Did you know that?” Tracy asked.
Barry looked at Lisa a little surprised. Lisa spoke first. “I knew about the policies. They’re written in the contracts of key people,” Lisa lied. She borrowed a line said to her by Stewart the night before. “I assume that anyone who reads their contract would be aware of this clause.”
Barry jumped in, “I have to be honest; I wasn’t aware of this clause, but I don’t remember ever reading my contract past the money part.”
That is exactly what Stewart Simpson counted on when he had his lawyers prepare the employee contracts.
“We asked him about his relationship with Jesse Anderson,” Reynolds said. “At first he claimed he didn’t know who the girl was until she turned up dead. Then he remembered that someone, he didn’t know who, had asked him to help her get her broadcast career started. He said he called you, Barry, and asked you to take a look at her.”
“That’s right, he did,” Barry acknowledged.
“Did he ever follow up on that to see if you hired her or not?” Reynolds asked.
“No, I don’t think he ever called me after that first phone call. I’m sure he didn’t, or I would have remembered it. It’s not like the owner of the station calls me very often.”
“That’s what he told us. We got the feeling it wasn’t any big deal and that because he’s the owner he often gets asked to do things like this from friends or such.”
“Do you have anything new to share with us?” Tracy asked.
“The life insurance was a surprise to me, but Mr. Simpson’s explanation makes sense. I didn’t think much when he called me about Jesse Anderson, and he certainly didn’t apply any pressure to make me hire her.”
Barry didn’t believe there was anything new to offer up, but he didn’t know what Lisa would add. “My team doesn’t have anything you don’t already have, I’m afraid.”
“It seems like we all have the same information and still nothing to go on,” Lisa said. She decided that without the detectives having anything more than what they shared, she didn’t need to give them what could be more nothing to consider. She would deposit Stewart’s check that afternoon.
14
PHIL ROBERTS WAS HAVING a hard time getting through the days following his lunch with Barry Burke. He kept thinking he should approach his boss and tell her about the CBS opportunity. He didn’t want to seem too anxious, but at the same time he was impatient with his own career. Roberts liked everything in order and laid out for him. Screw patience, he thought. I need to know where I’m going to be next year.
Sharon Miller was petite but had a commanding personality. Outside of putting on a few extra pounds over the years, she was still very attractive. Miller arrived in Santa Barbara five years ago to take over the ABC News Department. She ran a strong news organization. Barry Burke, her counterpart at CBS, thought she had improved their station’s look and content enough that he wondered if this was the rating period they would show gains. To Miller’s disappointment, the improvement hadn’t shown up in the Nielsen rating numbers as fast as she wanted. At least not to the extent that news people in the market thought they would.
Miller had been through this before. She knew it took time to change a diary market. Barry knew it too. Getting Roberts to switch stations would extend that time table a little longer.
Nielsen used around 450 diaries over a four-week period to determine what some 500,000 people were watching. Needless to say, change took a long time before it showed up in the ratings.
Miller recognized the knock on her door as that of her main anchor. Roberts entered.
The news director and her anchor had been together a long time. When she got to Santa Barbara, the first thing she did was bring Roberts to anchor her news.
“Phil, come on in and take a seat. What brings you to my office? Miller asked. “I hardly get a chance to talk to you anymore. Everyone’s so busy.”
“How are you, Sharon?” Roberts asked.
“I’m okay. How about you, Phil?”
“Look, I don’t know how to do this other than just come out and say it. My contract is up in ten weeks and I’d like to know what you and the station are thinking.”
“Phil, I thought we’d talk about this after the November ratings.” News directors always wanted to wait until the next rating book’s numbers came out. That usually meant around thirty days after the rating period ended. In Robert’s case, that meant not addressing his contract until late December. Using this time table gave the station all the power. If the ratings were good, they were never quite good enough during a contract negotiating year. If the ratings were down, then the station would use that to limit pay.
“Sharon, Barry Burke called me for lunch the other day. He wanted to ask me to come across town,” Roberts said.
“What did you tell him?” Miller asked incredulously.
