by Irving Munro
“I knew it, I just knew that there was something strange about that man!” said Martha Goldman, and she told Bill the whole story.
“It was late in the afternoon the week before Thanksgiving 2013, almost a year ago to the day, when a man walked into our store. I greeted him immediately and asked if I could help and he said that he was just browsing. As the man was the only customer in the store I kept a close eye on him as he browsed.”
“In an instant, as if choreographed, he spun around and marched straight up to me and barked his needs, not in an aggressive or offensive way but in a very orderly but firm demeanor that left no opportunity for petty dialogue.”
“He said that he wanted three white silk shirts, collar size forty-two, sleeve length eighty-seven and a half! He then immediately apologized that he had given the dimensions in centimeters and corrected it to inches, size sixteen and a half collar, sleeve thirty-four and a half.”
“He also bought three pairs of gray worsted pants, waist thirty-four, length thirty-six. Three pairs black wool socks, half calf, and one black belt, waist thirty-four. One pair of the Hugo Boss Gettio boot, size ten, wide fit. One pair of the Bacco Bucci Buffon, the same size and fit as the boot, and one Hugo Boss Janay leather jacket, color black, chest forty-two. He didn’t even try on any of items he purchased.”
“He paid the bill, over four thousand dollars in cash, with new hundred dollar bills. He was starting to leave without giving his name or contact details and I stopped him. I explained that it was our policy to offer our clients exceptional customer service and could I have his name and at least a cell phone number so that I might follow up to ensure that all was in order.”
“I told him that M & J Fine Clothing merchandise could be exchanged with no questions asked if there were any problems whatsoever. That in addition we also offered free laundering service if needed for as long as he owned the clothes. He was a little reluctant but did give his cell number and told me that his name was Raul Hernandez. He took his purchases and left.”
“Wow! What a story,” said Bill. “You have a tremendous memory for detail Ms. Goldman, perhaps you should have been a detective.”
“Oh no, Officer Ross. My husband Jacob and I came her as children after the war. Jacob has worked as a tailor all of his life and we run our little shop here in Houston. We have been blessed with four children and nine grandchildren. Life has been good to us Officer Ross.”
“This encounter with this man must have been quite unnerving, Ms. Goldman.”
“I can say, Officer Ross, without hesitation, that it was the strangest and most unnerving transaction I have ever conducted in my forty years in the business. When I think back on it, it still gives me the chills.” replied Martha.
“You still have the cell number, I’m sure,” said Bill.
“I have it here Officer Ross, just give me a minute.”
Bill could hear Martha opening and closing drawers and a few minutes later, she gave him the number.
“Thank you so much, Ms. Goldman. May I call you back if I have any further questions?”
“Of course you may.”
~
Bill felt both drained and elated. After he hung up the phone with Martha he called the number she had given him. As he suspected the number was no longer in service.
“Well, at least we now know your name,” mumbled Bill. “The name you gave Martha Goldman, that is.”
Bill called Tommy on his cell to give him the good news. There was no response from Tommy’s phone or Marie’s, so he assumed that they were in the middle of the door-to-door work at Whispering Hollow. He left a message for Tommy to call him at home that night or just to meet in the morning for a detailed update. Neither Tommy nor Marie called back.
Chapter 9: Disinformation
Next morning, they all met again in the conference room, coffee in hand, ready for another long day.
Bill kicked the meeting off with the good news regarding the Bacco Bucci shoe.
“We should write up on the board Raul Hernandez. We can’t be sure that this is his real name but it’s what we have to go on for now.”
“His behavior in the clothing store was rather odd, Dad. What do you make of it?”
“His behavior was really strange for sure, and I think we need to think about a number of issues. Why did he begin to order his clothing and shoes in metric measurements and then immediately catch himself and change to inches? Why buy all that stuff? If he was in Special Forces, was he on some kind of assignment? The medical examiner put his age at mid-forties, a little old for active duty Special Forces but not unheard of. Is he still active or is he out? If he’s out, was he working for some commercial concern as a contractor? This is a little far fetched, but was he an assassin? If so, who was his target? Why was he in Houston in November of 2013, three months before he ends up dead in Whispering Hollow?
“I think we should write up on the board - Special Forces In/Out? Assignment? Canadian? European? Houston?
“I wish our trip to Whispering Hollow had yielded such positive results,” said Tommy. “As we had discussed before, Whispering Hollow is right at the end of the finger of land that’s on the other side of Lake Travis from Lakeway. There is one road in and one road out and it’s a long road. You were right dad, the fact that they chose this location is really strange, and if we find out why it may lead us to the killers.
“The PR campaign of disinformation about that night seems to be holding. We talked with a bartender at the golf club grill in the neighborhood and she gave the party line as she understood it, that a vagrant had accidently killed himself when setting a fire to stay warm. We did door-to-door and most times we got no response. One of the older residents told us that with most families that live there both adults work and that the wives drop their children off at daycare in Lago Vista on their way to work in Cedar Park or Austin. Many of them don’t get back home till late.”
“We will have to re-plan our door-to-door and get back out there in the evening time or on the weekend. That’s about it, not a great result from a long day on the road.”
“You can learn a lot about a community by playing golf at the local course,” said Bill with some experience in the matter. “I suggest that we get up there on the weekend, I’ll try to get a tee time, and you two do the door-to-door. We can have lunch in the grill and see what information we can pick up.”
“It’s a good plan, but it’s a little grill, Dad, twenty people max.”
“That can be good, in a small place like that on the weekend when beers are flowing after the round; it can be very difficult to keep conversations private. In my experience everyone listens to everyone else’s business, that’s part of the attraction.”
“Okay, that’s one plan of attack, what else?” said Tommy.
“Does the Raul Hernandez name give us enough to pursue the Special Forces angle?” asked Marie. “Also, we could be wrong about the victim’s lineage being Native American. Raul Hernandez doesn’t sound like the name of a Comanche chief to me.”
“I’ll take the Special Forces connection,” said Bill.
“As we discussed before, I wouldn’t worry too much about the lineage question right now as it doesn’t do anything for us until we have something to match it with. It sure was spooky though, being out there at Whispering Hollow and everything around having names referencing American Indian tribes, and here we are thinking that the deceased was possibly Native American,” said Tommy.
“I should go let the chief know about the breakthrough on the shoe. He asked that I keep him informed on any significant developments.”
~
“Did you talk with Shelly about coming over for dinner?”
Bill reminded Marie about the conversation they had had in the pub the other night.
“Yes, I did, and she thought it was a good idea, since she feels that Tommy needs to know sooner rather than later what’s going on and getting it out on the table with your help she thought would
be a good thing. Thanksgiving is on November 27th, so we thought the previous Saturday would work for us. Would that work for you and Elaine?”
“I’ll have to check, so leave it with me,” replied Bill.
Chapter 10: The SAS connection
The National Personnel Records Center, Military Personnel Records (NPRC-MPR), located in St. Louis, is the repository of millions of military personnel, health, and medical records of discharged and deceased veterans of all services during the 20th century. Bill found the website and studied the protocol for obtaining information he needed.
If Raul Hernandez had left the military, his information would be in the archives; however, the method of obtaining the data could take weeks unless he could find a way to expedite the search.
If he were still an active member of Special Forces, then the NPRC would not have his information.
“I need to find a shortcut,” mumbled Bill.
“Just for the heck of it, let’s try Facebook.”
Bill keyed in Raul Hernandez and got over one thousand hits. Facebook provides a search filter where information can be added to refine your search, including employer. Bill was astounded that he could enter “Special Forces” in the “Employer” field It didn’t provide any hits; however, when he entered in each branch of the military separately and did a separate search in each case, up popped several names. He sat back and imagined a terrorist in the U.S. sitting on Facebook and doing this to identify a hit list.
This should not be possible. Freedom of information combined with technology is immensely powerful when used for good, but in the wrong hands it could be a blueprint for disaster. There must be other ways that law enforcement can get information for both active and inactive military personnel. We need to get the governor to pull a few strings, thought Bill.
He decided to try another angle. A real long shot.
“Alex Forbes-Hamilton. I need to talk to Alex. He was in Special Forces in Iraq and is now retired. Alex may be able to offer some ideas on how to find someone who had been in his line of work. It’s worth a shot and, at any rate, it’s about time I called Alex. I haven’t talked to him in several years.”
~
Before he could make the call, Bill’s cell phone rang; it was Martha Goldman from the clothing store in Houston.
“Officer Ross, I was talking with Jacob last night about our phone call together and something popped into my head. It may be nothing, but I thought I should call you anyway.”
“I’m glad you did call, Ms. Goldman. Any small thing could be enormously helpful in finding out who this guy was. What did you remember?” said Bill, his adrenalin kicking in with the anticipation.
“He had one of those remote control thingies and he put it down on the counter when he opened up his wallet to pay for the clothes. It had the BMW logo on it and a plastic car rental tag.”
“I didn’t spot the name of the rental company but my husband, Jacob, and I rent cars from time to time and it definitely was a car rental tag.”
“Wow, this could be incredibly helpful, Ms. Goldman, thank you so much. If you happen to find his ID lying on the floor somewhere that would be great too,” joked Bill, and he could hear Martha laughing.
“Did the car rental tag have a color that you remember? As an example, if it had been red it might have been Avis, or green, it could have been Enterprise, or gold, Hertz.”
“No, nothing comes to mind, Officer Ross, sorry. Good luck, and if I think of anything else I will call you right away.”
“Have a great day, Ms. Goldman, and thanks again!”
~
“Sindhur Wadawadigi! I need to call Sindhur right now,” said Bill to himself as he scrolled through his contacts in his iPhone.
Sindhur Wadawadigi was the IT person at Hertz Car Rental in charge of their big data project. She had helped him track down the car rental information in the Luther Fisher case a few months ago.
Could I be that lucky again? he thought as he dialed her number.
“This is Sindhur.”
“Sindhur, this is Bill Ross, we spoke a few months ago when you helped me track down an SUV that I was looking for.”
“I remember, Officer Ross, it’s very good to hear your voice again. How can I be of assistance to you today?”
“I’m looking for a rental record for a BMW. It would have been rented in the Houston, Texas, area sometime in late 2013 under the name Raul Hernandez,”
“Okay, Officer Ross, let’s see!”
A few seconds went by that seemed like an eternity.
“No, sorry, there is nothing that I can see where we rented a BMW to a Raul Hernandez in that time frame in the Houston area. I put in the search criteria as the last three months of 2013. There were several rentals to persons with the name Raul Hernandez but no BMW rentals. A BMW is a premium class rental with Hertz.”
“I did find three records with other names but not Raul Hernandez, and all three had non U.S. driver’s licenses and rented from our location at the George Bush International Airport. Not likely that they are who you are looking for,” said Sindhur, disappointed that she had not been able to help.
“Thanks for trying, Sindhur, it was a long shot. You were first on my list to call because you had been so helpful last time. Can you give me the three names you have for the BMW rentals, just in case? We assume that the guy we are looking for used the name Raul Hernandez to rent the car, but we’re not certain, so I should take the names.”
He wrote down the names: one person from Sweden, a South African and a German.
“One other thing before I let you go, Sindhur. Just looking at the records for rentals from the airport in Houston for the same three-month period, how many rentals do you have for BMW cars in total?”
“Thirty-seven, Officer Ross. Would you like that I email the list to you?”
“That would be great. It was great talking with you again, Sindhur, and thanks for your help.”
“Anytime I can be of further assistance just call, Officer Ross, and have a great day.”
Sindhur got back to her Big Data work.
“Well, the BMW investigation will have to wait for now. It’s three in the afternoon here which means it’s nine in the evening in Britain. I need to call Alex Forbes-Hamilton before it gets too late.”
~
Tommy had returned from briefing Bill Dunwoody about the progress on the shoe, and he and Marie were now sitting with Bill in Tommy’s office when Bill walked in to bring them up to speed on his work on researching Raul.
“Martha Goldman from the tailor’s shop in Houston called me back earlier. What a great lady. She remembered that when Raul bought the clothes in her store he had a BMW key fob with a car rental tag. She has no recollection of the name of the rental company, but it’s another solid piece of evidence and confirmation that Raul did rented a BMW. I gave Sundhur at Hertz a call. You remember her from the Fisher case, but no luck I’m afraid.”
“We couldn’t have been that lucky,” laughed Tommy.
“I accessed the National Records Center for military personnel on line. Typical government site. It will take us forever to get what we need from there. We need to ask the chief to get the governor to pull some strings with Washington to find out if there are any military records for Raul.”
“I’ll talk with the chief dad.”
“I have another idea. It’s a real long shot. Do you remember a case I told you about Tommy, where a banker in Scotland was murdered in the street outside his office?”
“It does ring a bell dad, but what has that got to do with anything?”
“William Forbes-Hamilton was a prominent banker in the city of Glasgow in the ‘80s. He had been attacked and stabbed to death outside his office on West Nile Street. Two young boys had tried to grab his briefcase. The banker would have none of it and tried to fight them off. He died in a pool of blood right there on the street, and when they found the boys they still had the briefcase. There had been no money or valu
ables, just business papers. A life lost for a few sheets of paper!”
“Well the banker had a son and he and I became very friendly over the years after I found his father’s killers and put them away for life. His name is Alex Forbes-Hamilton. He was a lieutenant colonel with the British Special Air Service (SAS) and played rugby for Scotland. He is now retired and lives in the family estate in the Scottish Highlands. I am sure that I can get him to pull some strings and do some digging. Worth a try, don’t you think?”
“Well go for it dad”
“I have his number right here. If I get him on the phone, I want you two to listen in.”
~
“The Forbes-Hamilton residence,” said the maid in her lilting Scottish island accent.
“Good evening, this is Bill Ross here, can I speak with Alex, please?”
“What is the nature of your call?” asked the wee girl, obviously well trained to ensure that she had the necessary information about any caller before interrupting her employer.
“Please just tell Alex that it’s Bill Ross, I’m sure that will do it.”
“Very well, please hold the line,” said the maid and she went off to find her boss.
“As I live and breathe, Bill Ross, how the heck are you?” said Alex with genuine excitement that he was speaking again with the man who had brought his father’s killers to justice.
“I’m well, Alex, thanks for asking. Elaine and I are now retired and we are living here in Austin, Texas,” replied Bill.
“Austin, Texas! Don’t tell me you wear a Stetson and cowboy boots, Bill. I don’t picture you as the John Wayne type!” laughed Alex. “But you didn’t call to have me rib you about being a cowboy, so what can I do for you, Bill? Whatever it is, just ask.”
“Is it okay if I put you on speaker, Alex? I’m working with the Travis County Police Department here in Austin as a volunteer. My son, Tommy, is with me. He has followed in his father’s footsteps and is now a detective, and his colleague Detective Marie Mason is also here. I’d like them in on this conversation, if that’s okay with you.”
