The Mournful Teddy

by John J. Lamb

  “Oh, yes I can. What if I were willing to testify that Trent confessed to killing Robert Thayer?”

  “Forgive my disbelief, but why would Trent tell you he’d killed Thayer?”

  “So that I would understand that he and his dad meant business. He told me that he stopped Robert on the Island Ford Bridge and strangled him. Then he said that if I didn’t wise up and get in contact with the buyer for the teddy bear, the same thing could happen to me.” Poole sounded as if he were telling the truth.

  Ash’s eyebrows arched slightly and I shot her a warning glance. “Really? When did that happen?”

  “He called here late on Friday night.”

  “All the previous BS you told us aside, I bet that did scare you.”

  “Yeah, and the most frightening part was, he didn’t sound troubled by the murder at all.”

  “Well, I’m certain the Commonwealth’s Attorney will find that information very interesting, but you’d have to prove Trent actually called here.”

  Poole allowed himself a slight smug smile. There was a phone with a built-in answering machine on the desk and he turned it toward me. The number “1” showed on the LCD screen, indicating one recorded message. Poole said, “I started recording shortly after the lummox called. Press the play button.”

  I did and we heard an excellent recording of Trent’s voice say, “. . . you need to shut up and listen.”

  Poole’s voice replied, “All right.”

  “I guess by now you know what happened to your friend, and in case you’re wondering, I’ve got the teddy bear. Now unless you want to end up like your burglar buddy you’ll do exactly what I say. Thayer told me about the deal.”

  “I understand.”

  “It’s still on but Thayer’s out and I’m in. Call me when you’ve contacted the buyer.”

  “Is it going to be the same split?

  Trent guffawed. “Seventy percent for me, thirty for you, and you’re damn lucky I’m being that generous. Oh, and Mr. Preacher?”

  “Yes, Sergeant Holcombe?”

  “You crap backwards on me and you’ll end up in the river trying to swim to Front Royal just like Thayer. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Get to work. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  There was a double-click as the call was terminated, followed by an artificial woman’s voice that intoned, “Friday, October first, one-ten a.m.”

  Poole wore a look of serene satisfaction. “I even got him to acknowledge his name.”

  “I wouldn’t be too proud over tricking Trent. His IQ is about the same as his belt size.”

  “But it proves my point. Trent killed Thayer.” Poole sat back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.

  “So it would seem. Of course, you realize what would happen if Trent knew you had that recording, don’t you?”

  “Who’d tell him about it?”

  “I will if you don’t answer all my questions to my liking.”

  His hands came down and Poole leaned forward. “I don’t like to be threatened.”

  “I don’t like being crippled, but we both have to deal with reality. Now . . . are you ready to chat in detail?”

  Poole looked as if he’d just tasted something awful. “Yes, damn you.”

  Chapter 21

  “Let’s start at the beginning. How long had you been Thayer’s fence?” I asked.

  “About seven months. Shortly after he moved here, I learned he could obtain merchandise and I offered to buy it from him.”

  “At the usual dime on the dollar?”

  “Yes.”

  “And by ‘obtained’ you mean that Thayer was committing residential burglaries in Northern Virginia and bringing you the stolen goods, correct?”

  “I didn’t know all the details.”

  “C’mon Poole, let’s not play semantic games. Were you aware the merchandise was stolen? And remember what will happen if I decide you’re yanking my chain.”

  “Yes, I knew,” Poole said, through clenched teeth.

  Ash couldn’t help herself. She glared at Poole and said, “People had their homes violated and their things taken. How could you do such a thing?”

  “Because it was necessary and I’d even argue that it was the moral thing to do.” Poole’s stern demeanor softened a little as he looked at Ash. “This is the richest country in the history of the human race and we give next to nothing to help others. Those things the people lost can be replaced, but a starving or diseased child’s life can’t.”

  “You’re rationalizing, Marc. It’s burglary. Think of how frightened those people were when they came home and found their houses had been broken into.”

  “Think of the people who are starving or haven’t heard the word of our Lord. Every penny I raised from the sale of those stolen goods either went to charity or missionary work—and without the customary ‘administration’ fee taken out so that the charity CEO can buy a condo on Maui.” Poole’s tone was acidic.

  “Sorry, I’m not buying the Robin Hood act.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Poole waved a hand at the stark office. “Look around this house. I certainly didn’t benefit from the thefts.”

  “Oh, yes you did,” Ash pointed an accusing finger at him. “You got to feel good and holy about yourself because you gave so much. But I’ll bet you didn’t tell those charities and missionaries how you came by your donations, did you?”

  Poole was silent.

  “I thought as much.”

  I decided to interrupt before she could continue flaying Poole. There were other important questions to be asked and, as much as I enjoyed watching him squirm under Ash’s inquisition, we were short on time. I said, “Getting back to your relationship with Thayer, who came up with the idea of circumventing the auction and selling the Mourning Bear to a private buyer?”

  Poole paused before answering and I knew he was weighing his options. By acknowledging that he’d originated the idea to steal the bear, he’d incriminate himself and probably earn another flaming from Ash. On the other hand, I didn’t think he could quite bear the idea of giving Thayer credit for such a clever scheme, and he was also probably worried that if he did, I’d know it was a lie and terminate the interview. At last, he said, “It was my idea.”

  “Thanks for being honest. What was your deal with Thayer? I’m assuming he wasn’t going to be satisfied with just ten percent.”

  “He wasn’t. We were going to split the proceeds fifty-fifty.” Poole wiped something from his right eye with his fingers. This symbolic blocking of vision suggested to me that whatever the pair had agreed upon, Poole never had any intention of honoring the deal.

  “Did either of you have any second thoughts about stealing from Liz Ewell? After all, she was Thayer’s aunt and you were her spiritual shepherd.”

  “I’ve agreed to answer your questions, so there’s no need to be sarcastic.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Poole. It’s a bad habit of mine.”

  “Thank you. Do you know Liz Ewell?”

  “Only by evil reputation.”

  “Everything you’ve heard is true. If anyone on this planet deserves to be stolen from, it’s Liz Ewell.”

  I looked at Ash and saw her nodding slightly in agreement. “We have a consensus here. How did you select Lorraine Cleland as the buyer?”

  “How did you find out about her?”

  “That isn’t important right now. So?”

  “Actually, Lorraine was the one to contact me. Apparently she saw my name on some of the auction house literature and somehow found out that Ewell attended my church.”

  “Did Cleland know she was making a deal to purchase stolen goods?”

  Poole snorted. “Of course.”

  “What was the purchase price?”

  “One-hundred-and-seventy-thousand dollars.”

  “I’m impressed. Your run-of-the-mill grifter doesn’t make one-tenth of that in a lifetime. How
was the money going to be paid?”

  “A cashier’s check to the church. It’s a charity donation.”

  I began to laugh and Poole watched me with a bemused smile. I said, “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. Let me get this straight: Cleland gets a charity tax deduction for buying stolen property?”

  “Essentially.”

  “Your idea?”

  “Yes.”

  “Love it. I’ll give you this, man, you’re smart and you’ve got some real guts.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, what was the original plan on Friday night? Were you actually going to take the Mourning Bear to the auctioneers?”

  “Yes. We were going to go into Harrisonburg and I was going to take the bear to the motel room.”

  Suddenly suspecting the rest of the plot, I nodded in reluctant admiration. “And once you’d identified the room where the auctioneer was staying, Thayer was going to break in sometime during the middle of the night and take the bear, right?”

  “He was a skillful burglar.” Poole couldn’t resist smiling.

  “One problem though: The kid working for the auctioneer told me that Robert was supposed to make the delivery. Had they ever seen him?”

  “No, and the plan was that I’d tell them I was making the delivery for Robert.”

  “And if you planned to steal the bear, the very last thing you’d do is deliver it to the auctioneer and Robert isn’t suspected because he was never seen.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Once more, I’m impressed. So, you had this great plan, but then ten o’clock came and went on Friday night and Robert was a no-show. What were you thinking?”

  “That he’d double-crossed me or said something to make that old witch suspicious.” Poole frowned with the memory.

  “What did you do?”

  “Waited. Then I called his cell phone, but didn’t get an answer.”

  “Probably because the circuitry was shorted out from being immersed in water. How did you find out about Robert being killed?”

  “When Trent called.”

  “And when were you supposed to have originally made the sale to Cleland?”

  “Saturday morning. She was supposed to come here. That’s why I was in such a hurry to leave your house.” Poole turned to meet Ash’s gaze and answered her unspoken question. “And yes, I genuinely feel ashamed over how I behaved when I recovered Robert’s body.”

  “But not ashamed enough to do the right thing.”

  I said, “Gee, it must have been fun telling Cleland you didn’t have the bear and that your partner had been murdered.”

  Poole shook his head as if to dispel an unpleasant mental image. “At first, she was very apprehensive . . . and angry. But I managed to calm her down when I assured her that I could still get the bear for her, but it might take a little more time. I called Trent while she was there, but all I got was his voice mail. I left a message, but didn’t hear anything from him.”

  Ash was outraged. “Hold on a second! She was aware that Thayer had been murdered and she still wanted to buy the bear?”

  “Sure, so long as she could be guaranteed that her name would be kept out of any death investigation.”

  “And with Trent and his dad in possession of the bear, you naturally assumed there wasn’t going to be an investigation,” I added.

  “Right.”

  “Which reminds me—not that this has anything specifically to do with Thayer’s death—but just to satisfy my curiosity, how much in protection money were you paying the Holcombes in order to operate the flea market?”

  “It had just gone up to four hundred dollars a month.”

  “Yow. He was in danger of killing the goose that laid the golden egg.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Okay, getting back to Saturday morning with Cleland, when Trent didn’t call, what happened?”

  “She left for the teddy bear show.”

  “In a hurry, I might add.” Poole looked puzzled, and I continued, “I saw her take off out of here like she had the pole position at the Indy 500. Why did she go to the teddy bear show?”

  “She thought that the deal had fallen apart and that the bear might actually go up for auction.”

  “So what did you do while she was gone?”

  “I must have called Trent ten times, leaving messages and telling him I was ready to deal. He finally called back and told me that there’d been a temporary delay and to stop bugging him.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said, not adding: unless there’d been some sort of dispute between Trent and Holcombe over the sale of the teddy bear.

  “But at some point you finally did hear from Trent.”

  “It was Gene Holcombe that called . . . earlier today. He told me he was going to be handling the negotiations from now on and that he was ready to sell the bear.”

  “Did he change any of the terms?”

  “No, it was still seventy-thirty and he told me that if I talked to you, the very best I could expect out of the rest of my life was becoming an inmate’s girlfriend and making license plates at the state penitentiary.”

  “At least he didn’t threaten to toss you into the river. What happened next?”

  “We met this afternoon right here around three-thirty.” Poole gestured listlessly at our chairs.

  Ash looked stunned. “That means the Mourning Bear was out in her car while she was at our house . . . which explains why she was in such a hurry to leave.”

  “I wonder why she even bothered to come by. She could have just called you and cancelled.” Turning to Poole, I said, “Did she know we were investigating?”

  “Holcombe mentioned it. He wasn’t happy.”

  “There’s your answer, sweetheart. She was concerned that if she cancelled and we later learned she was in town, we might have connected her to this carnival of crime. Okay, back to the meeting. What happened?”

  Poole grimaced. “There isn’t much to tell. Holcombe brought the Mourning Bear and Lorraine had the cashier’s check. I have no idea of where Trent was. Anyway, it took all of five minutes, but there was one kind of funny moment.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  “Holcombe got all puffed up and started to threaten Lorraine about what would happen if she talked about the deal. Well, she turned right around and told him to ‘shove it’ and said that she had investors up in Boston who were experts in making troublesome people have fatal accidents.”

  “Mob connections?”

  “That’s how I took it.”

  “That’s how I’d take it too. What happened next?”

  “Lorraine left with the bear and Holcombe took the check.”

  “I take it he didn’t trust you’d be here tomorrow morning so that you could go to the bank together?”

  “I don’t know what he thought. You’ll have to ask him.” Poole suddenly sounded very tired and petulant. “So, what’s going to happen to me?”

  “You’ll probably be booked into jail sometime tonight, but you’re going to have to wait your turn because you’re relatively low on the list. I expect that the interim sheriff, Barron, is going to be very busy for the next few hours arresting Holcombe, Trent, Cleland, and the murderer.”

  Poole blanched. “But I thought Trent was the murderer.”

  “Nah. Trent robbed Thayer, shot his truck up, and probably threw him in the river to scare the bejeezus out of him, but he didn’t kill him. Somebody else did that later.”

  “But the recording—the message.”

  “The message hurts you almost as much as it does Trent because it shows your participation in a preexisting criminal conspiracy to steal and sell the Mourning Bear.”

  “But he admitted to killing Thayer.”

  “No, he didn’t. You need to listen to that recording more carefully. Trent just said that he’d thrown Thayer into the river—which he did. And do you want to hear the most deliciously ironic part about all of this? Trent didn’t kno
w that Thayer was dead when he made that call. In short, you’ve got no leverage, and the Commonwealth’s Attorney is going to try and crucify you in order to show the voters that he’s lily white and shocked at your criminal behavior. And even if you avoid a prison term, once people around here understand the depths of your misconduct, you’ll be a pariah.”

  “You deliberately misled me.”

  “But it was for a good cause.” I kept the mockery from my voice and it seemed to sting Poole that much more. “I wanted the truth and that seemed more of an effective tool than appealing to your conscience. Would you have told me anything otherwise?”

  He looked out the window. “Then I guess that’s it.”

  “Oh no, that isn’t ‘it.’ ” Ash stood up and placed her hands on the desk so that her face was only a few inches from Poole’s. “The last time I looked, lusting after another man’s wife was a sin. All those hugs and—stupid me—I thought it was innocent. After all, you’re an old childhood friend and a clergyman. But then I learned about that rumor you started—I guess I was one of the very last ones in town to hear it—and now I know the truth.”

  Poole looked down at the desktop and remained silent.

  “Oh, spare me the I’m-so-ashamed act. You aren’t capable of understanding how dirty and idiotic you’ve made me feel in front of my husband, family, and neighbors.”

  Looking up, he began to say something.

  “So help me God, if you say you’re sorry, I’ll slap you.”

  Poole shut his mouth.

  “One other thing: You’ve got to have several screws loose to be able to rationalize all the evil things you’ve done. But you have to be a raving lunatic to think I’d leave this man for anyone on earth, let alone for a selfish and cowardly little nothing like you.”

  Chapter 22

  As we drove down the driveway toward the road, I asked, “Feeling better?”

  “A little.”

  “I really enjoyed that last part when you threw Poole’s framed Bible College diploma against the wall and then kicked it to pieces.” I quietly chuckled.

  “I warned him not to say he was sorry. He’s lucky I didn’t break it over his head.” Ash took a deep breath and then smiled slightly. “Actually, I’m beginning to feel pretty good. Can I smash something in Holcombe’s office?”