Match Play

by Poppe, D. Michael

  “I need to get those starter’s sheets right now!”

  A vehicle is approaching on the street adjacent to the parking lot.

  Officer Michaels speaks into his shoulder mike and is informed that the clubhouse manager has been let through and should be arriving any moment. He says to Lou Schein, “That’s the manager now.”

  The gray sedan pulls up to the police perimeter and a middle-aged man steps from the car. “I’m Jay Albright, the manager of Parker Golf Club. I was told the situation is urgent, what can I do to help?”

  “I’m FBI Special Agent in Charge Louis Schein. The man who drives this car played golf here sometime today. We need to see your starter’s sheets. He is the prime suspect in a series of murders; I’m sure you’ve seen our flyers.”

  Jay Albright shows a momentary expression of surprise, and then tells Lou he will show him the sheets.

  “I’ve got two people inside; please make those sheets available to them.” Lou turns and walks back to the Navigator.

  Agent Payne has finished his examination of the car and has confiscated a 9mm Glock pistol he found in the spare tire compartment. He has tagged and bagged it and is handing it to Lou.

  “Damn. I think he’s been gone several hours already. It’s probably too late to save the woman, but we’ll get him when he returns.” Lou motions to the cars around them. “We need to get everybody out of here. It’s close to closing, tell the customers to go home. Tell the police to move their cars out of sight but to stay close. Call CSU and Nancy and tell them to take their time, stop for coffee, whatever it takes. We don’t want them here until we have this guy in custody. We’ll call them.”

  “Yes, sir.” Roger Payne starts closing the Navigator.

  “Go into surveillance mode, park your car where you can see the entrance of the parking lot and alert us the minute you see anything. I’m going inside.”

  Schein stops and gives instructions to Officer Michaels. The patrol cars are leaving as he is walking to the clubhouse.

  Gibson and Phillips and the manager are going over the starter’s sheets when Lou walks in.

  “We don’t mark gender on the sheet. I know the members who play here, but the ones I don’t know are guests, just names. I told the agents there’s no way to know who are men and who are women.”

  “Damn it! Well, cross off every name you know.” The manager does as he’s told. “Can you tell who paid cash and who paid by credit card?” Lou is grasping for any kind of lead.

  The manager looks up. “Yes, credit card receipts are referenced to the start time and the course. We have two courses here.”

  “All right, get the receipts and get me the names of the people who paid cash.”

  The manager goes to the other room to open the safe. When he returns, Schein tasks Phillips and Gibson with cross-referencing. Since one p.m. there had been about thirty-six flights of players on the courses.

  “It costs seventy-five dollars per person to play a round,” offers the manager, “and most people pay with credit or debit card.”

  There are only a few who paid with cash. When they reach Baker, Johnson, Albertson pair, the manager only crosses off the Albertsons. Schein stops him.

  “What’s that?”

  “The Albertsons are members. We bill them at the end of the month. I don’t know the other two, but they paid cash.”

  Lou picks up the sheet.

  “Have you got a phone number for the Albertsons? I want to talk to them. Johnson is the name the killer used in Phoenix and San Diego.”

  “It’s the middle of the night…”

  “Get me the phone number.”

  Schein follows the manager into the back office where the member files are stored. Moments later the phone is ringing at the Albertson’s house.

  “This is FBI Agent Louis Schein. I must speak with you about your golf partners today, and it’s urgent. No, sir, I cannot call back in the morning. You may have played golf with a murderer and we need your help to identify him.”

  Lou listens and says, “Can you describe the other two people in your foursome? I need names. The starter’s sheet says you, Johnson and Baker. Which was which?”

  Lou can hear the man ask his wife.

  “Listen very carefully: did they leave together?”

  “What does Mr. Johnson look like? Does he have any distinguishing features? Please sir, as quickly as you possibly can, please try to remember.”

  Lou turns to Bruce Phillips with an exasperated sigh; then back to the phone. “What about the woman? We need to find her immediately. She is in grave danger. Can you remember anything else about the man? Please…” He is coaching him with his voice.

  Lou can hear the man turn and speak to his wife.

  “Thank you. I’m going to put another agent on the phone to talk to you. Agent Gibson will ask you some more questions, and please if you can, put your wife on an extension. Thank you for your time.” Schein turns to Agent Phillips. “We need an emergency number for Midwestern Bank, start calling. Get the police involved, find Maggie Baker. We need to know where she lives.”

  He clicks his transmitter to talk to Payne. “Anything?”

  “No, sir. But everyone has left. The Navigator is standing alone and we have the entrance under surveillance.”

  Phillips taps Lou on the arm. “I’ve gotten through to Midwestern Bank. I’ve given them the protocol to access their computers but it’s going to take a moment.”

  “All right, Roger, keep watch.”

  Lou picks up another of the phones and dials 911.

  “Hello, this is FBI SA Lou Schein; please stay on the line. In a couple of minutes, I’m going to give you an address. I need you to send a patrol car with backup to that address. We’re pursuing a murder suspect, and he is likely to be at that address. He’s armed and extremely dangerous. Please stay on the line with me.”

  Bruce Phillips motions to get his attention. “It’s Maggie Baker, 13538 West Sycamore Road, Parker.”

  Schein repeats the information into the phone. “Tell the officers to enter. Find out what vehicle is registered in Ms. Baker’s name. I want an APB on it post haste.”

  Lou drops the phone back on the receiver and addresses both his agents. “Mary, I’m going with you in your car to Maggie Baker’s address. Bruce, stay and finish these lists, just in case this isn’t our guy. You’re back up for Roger; stay alert. David Steadman might drive in here any minute. I don’t want any mistakes.”

  Schein and Gibson rush out the door. It will be thirty minutes before they reach the Sycamore Road address.

  Chapter 63

  David Steadman pulls slowly away from Sycamore Road onto the main thoroughfare. He can see flashing lights approaching him. There is only light traffic so he merges and continues south toward the clubhouse lot where he left his car.

  Moments later, three Parker Police cars are in his face, moving very fast past him. He pulls to the side of the street and pauses there to watch them in the rearview mirror. He feels the nagging premonition that’s been with him the last few days.

  It seems too coincidental when the police appear to turn west on Sycamore Road. He slowly pulls away from the curb and back into the traffic heading south. Three blocks later he turns right and drives until he is again turning onto Sycamore Road. He starts up the street and is still quite a distance from 13538 but can see that the police have blocked off the street near Maggie Baker’s house.

  He turns right to return to the main street. Stopping cautiously, he looks for more police flashers and back into traffic, he drives directly to his hotel. He parks the car on a dark street near the hotel, wipes down the interior, takes his jacket and briefcase, wipes down the exterior and enters the hotel from a side door using his key card.

  Once in his room he paces, his anxiety level is at an all-time high. How do the police know? He retraces his steps. He only knows Maggie Baker from the golf course. He didn’t meet any of her friends except Agnes, so if the police conn
ected Maggie to him, it had to have started with the golf course.

  How could playing at that course have alerted anyone? Perhaps the couple they played with…had they recognized him from the flyer? He remembers seeing one in the clubhouse but didn’t pay attention to it. Did they have more information? He curses, wishing he had stopped to read it.

  Why would the police go to Maggie Baker’s house unless they think she is in danger? It has to be the couple they played with; they are the only possible link, but how could they have called the police and why?

  Then it hits him…someone discovered his vehicle, determined with whom he had played and somehow alerted the police.

  The implications are profound. They will know his true identity. In fact, in a matter of hours, they will know everything about him. He has lost his best set of clubs, his vehicle and the rest of the materials in the Navigator.

  At least he still has the briefcase and the trophies and thankfully he transferred his money from the wheel well to the safe in the room. But he’s lost his Glock.

  Knowing there will be an APB on Maggie Baker’s car, he must get rid of it, then gather his belongings and get out of town. He puts on gloves, leaves the hotel and drives the car to another hotel two miles down the road. He parks it in a dark corner of the lot and then enters the hotel lobby. Using the house phone, he calls for a cab and is taken back to his hotel.

  

  Joan Steadman walks out of her hotel in Denver and steps in a cab.

  The cab driver drops her at a used car lot in north Denver. She is looking at a gray 2012 Ford Expedition and listening to the salesman who cornered her the minute she walked on the lot. All she is concerned with is low mileage and no body damage and that it has GPS. The salesman is getting a little too friendly and Joan is in no mood to waste time.

  They agree on a cash price, Joan pays and waits for what seems an eternity for him to return with the temporary registration. She knows that each hour she delays puts her another minute closer to discovery and capture.

  Twenty-five minutes later, she is driving her new car back to the hotel where she stayed last night. As soon as she enters the room, she turns on the TV, expecting at any moment to see David’s picture appear.

  She wastes no time. She packs, leaves the room keys, loads the vehicle and begins her drive toward Chicago.

  Nothing is the same as before, but they are still in control, and they are determined to finish the match and find the eleventh hole.

  FBI Violent Crimes Unit

  Chapter 64

  Roger Payne has set up the video monitor with the most recent murder. Since the temporary offices in Parker are so small there’s no room for his crime board, he’s loaded the information onto his computer and will display the pictures and evidence as needed. He takes his coffee and returns to the table where the others are waiting for Agent Schein to begin.

  “We’ve had someone on stakeout at the vehicle since it was discovered Friday night, but somehow our killer was tipped off,” says Schein. “He never came back. We had the Navigator towed this morning and are working on the assumption he’s gone, since this is the last day of the Solheim Cup.”

  He stops long enough to pick up a piece of paper.

  “The killer is David Steadman. He lives in Oak Park, Illinois. He’s a millionaire, CEO of a chain of grocery stores and a meat packing plant. We’ve spoken to the controller of his company, Mr. Einsinger, who after seeing the warrant served by the Chicago Bureau, confirms that Mr. Steadman has been away on holiday since early January. They’ve been out of touch with him. Eisinger believes he is in the Caribbean. He also confirms he’s a golf fanatic, that he attends the Masters and has tickets for this year’s tournament.

  “Mr. Steadman has been seeing a therapist, according to Einsinger. At least up until the time he left Chicago in January. The therapist is screaming doctor/patient confidentiality, but since we have a capital crime she’ll have to cooperate. According to Einsinger, the guy is a loner, doesn’t take anyone into his confidence and is compulsive about every detail.

  “I want to be in on the investigation there and the search of his residence and offices. There’s also an elderly lady who keeps house for him; she’s the one I really want to talk to.

  “Friday night’s victim was Maggie Baker. As you know, the officers we sent to her residence found the crime scene. The crime scene is a duplicate of the others so I won’t go over the details. You’ll have the autopsy report as soon as Nancy is done. The Colorado Golf Club scorecard he left at the scene was marked for an eagle on the 14th hole. The victim was forty-two. In the box above the score he marked 8 up.

  “That means we are out of time. The newspaper scramble: YOUR BALL FLIES WEST is trying to send us to Portland. I guarantee you, he isn’t giving up; these guys never do. In fact, the only thing he has going for him now is the match. He can’t go home again. Personally, I don’t think we need to waste our time at any of the tournaments. Nevertheless, we can’t take a chance. Phillips, Payne and Gibson: you follow the scramble and the LPGA Tour just as before.

  “Meanwhile, we have a nationwide APB for him. He’s lost his car; if he tries to use a credit card or cash a bank draft to buy another vehicle, we’ll have him immediately. The Navigator has been towed to Denver. Nancy and our CSU team will do the forensics and keep us advised.

  “It would seem he does not have the resources to continue, be we can’t afford to just wait, so you guys are back on the street. We follow every possible lead as quickly as we can. We know who he is; now all we need to know is where he is. Some other law enforcement agency may get him before we do; frankly I welcome the help. If we don’t have him by September 1, the last day of the Portland Classic, you three will meet me in Chicago and we’ll wait for him there.”

  He looks around the table at his agents and gives a half-hearted thumb up.

  “Let’s go to work.”

  Chapter 65

  Lou Schein is waiting with a group of FBI agents at the front door of the Steadman house in the Oak Park suburb of Chicago.

  He is admiring the neighborhood. The homes are large solid structures with appealing detail and manicured lawns, beautifully maintained. Large old trees form a canopy over the wide streets. Since the houses have private drives or an alley with garages, there are very few cars parked on the streets. It is discomforting to be an intruder in a neighborhood that implies such respectability and affluence.

  The Steadman house is no exception. Its architecture is neo-classical and it is a grand, beautiful residence.

  “She’s supposed to be here. We called yesterday and she assured us she will cooperate.” The agent in charge of the Chicago Bureau, Curtis Sullens, is getting impatient. He rings the doorbell again.

  “It’s a large house; let’s give her a few minutes.” Schein stands back and looks at the façade. The house is red brick with white pediments over the doors and windows. The windowpanes are spotless. The entire house is exemplary of meticulous care.

  An older man comes around the far corner of the house toward the agents standing under the portico. Schein watches him guardedly as he approaches. Two of the agents approach the man and ask him to stop where he is and to lay down his rake.

  “I’m Albert, the butler and handyman. Sarah will be to the door in a moment. She was at the far end of the house.”

  “We’re with the FBI,” Lou explains. “I’m Special Agent Louis Schein and this is Agent Curtis Sullens from the Chicago office. He is in charge.”

  The latch on the front door clicks, the massive, raised panel door swings open, and there stands a small woman wearing a light gray dress buttoned to the collar. Her gray hair is pulled back tightly into a small bun, making her face look tight and drawn. Lou wonders if she’s been up all night.

  “Hello, I’m Agent Curtis Sullens. Are you Sarah Waite?”

  Sarah nods.

  “We spoke yesterday afternoon.” He holds out the warrant. Sarah carefully takes it from his hand, opens
it and begins reading.

  “It’s just a standard search warrant, ma’am. It gives us the authority to go through the house and everything on the premises, searching for evidence related to the crimes for which David Steadman is accused.”

  When Sarah hears David’s name, she looks up from the paper.

  “Mr. Steadman is very particular about his personal belongings and his home,” she says. “I spoke to the lawyer, and I know I have to let you in, but we expect you to adhere to the parameters of the warrant. The lawyer will be here as soon as possible.”

  Sarah is backing away from the entrance, implying that they may enter.

  “We’ll be very careful with everything we handle, I assure you. ma’am.” They enter the house and Sullens gives directions to the agents and introduces Schein to Sarah Waite. “This is Special Agent Louis Schein. He would like to speak with you.”

  Lou takes Sarah’s arm and asks her to take him to a quiet room where they can talk.

  Sullens leans toward Schein. “I’ll let you know if anything important turns up.”

  Sarah starts to protest, but Lou gently tells her, “Let’s let these gentlemen do their jobs. The sooner they get started, the sooner we’ll be out of your home.”

  She directs Lou into a small parlor off the foyer.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Ms. Waite? Agent Sullens will let us know if he needs anything further from you. The search will be very careful and thorough, but everything will need to be examined. It will take some time.”

  He guides her to a rather cozy seating area; a burgundy settee with a small coffee table in front and two gray wing back chairs facing the settee. Lou allows Sarah to choose her seat, and he positions himself opposite on one of the wing back chairs.

  “This is all such nonsense,” Sarah protests. “David can’t possibly have done the terrible things that Mr. Sullens says. He’s a fine man with a great deal of responsibility. He just needed to rest for a while, that’s why he went on vacation.”