Mrs. DePue handed a black, soft leather book to Meacham. He quickly leafed through it, noting that it was indeed a diary covering the two years prior to Ward’s death.
“I’m no financial wiz, young man, but it sure looks like some hanky-panky was going on and Stanley Ward was on to it. Had he lived, I am sure that my husband would have completed whatever investigation was entrusted to him. He was dogged in that regard” she concluded with a forlorn, faraway look on her thin face.
Meacham nodded agreement and then explained that the police would study the diary and come back to her if they needed any more documents. In the meantime, he advised her to call the Chief or him immediately if Mrs. Wattle contacted her again.
“I always believed there was a purity about Parlor City that made it a special place to live, detective. I’m not so sure anymore” Mrs. DePue said as she closed the door.
Meacham was anxious to get back to the station and pore over the diary. It certainly appeared that Wattle had put his wife up to a scheme whereby they could get two vulnerable and naïve widows to share information that was important, perhaps even incriminating. Well, they had guessed wrong with one of ladies.
As he drove away, it crossed Meacham’s mind that even in death, Randall DePue continued to be a valuable resource, even a motivation. First, the grainy photograph from Boston exposing Hawkins and Siebert and now a diary that might put Wattle – and possibly others – in serious legal jeopardy. “If DePue were looking down right now, he would be urging me on,” Meacham said softly.
***
Meacham spent the remainder of the morning reading through the Ward diary and taking notes. With no background in finance, he had trouble following some of Ward’s notations but understood the gist of what appeared to be a complicated conspiracy to enrich a few people at the expense of the town.
Ward’s suspicions, more like outright accusations, focused on two Braun projects involving the bank – a new downtown parking lot and the water filtration plant with related facilities built on the edge of town.
In both instances, Braun owned the land purchased by the town which, on its own, was not necessarily suspicious. After all, Braun was known as a shrewd businessman with considerable foresight and he did own considerable land in and around Parlor City. However, according to Ward, Braun had acquired both properties only a few months before the sites were selected by the town and approved by the City Council. And here is where it got very interesting. Ward had dug into the land records to discover that Braun had purchased both pieces of land from a company by the name of M&W Enterprises, Inc. whose sole stockholder was none other than Mildred Wattle.
While Braun had paid a nominal price for both pieces of land, he sold them to the town at a vastly inflated price. Ward further noted in his diary that Braun not only withdrew a large amount of cash immediately after the land sales to the town were consummated but also that he made a sizeable contribution to the major’s campaign committee shortly thereafter.
When Meacham huddled with the Chief to summarize his findings, he suggested that they get another opinion on the contents of the diary and that the paperwork on all of the transactions alluded to by Ward be examined by financial experts.
“There’s probably nothing illegal about the campaign contributions, Billy, despite what suspicions we might have about the motivations of Wattle and Braun” cautioned the Chief, adding, “so let’s not go down the wrong path and destroy our credibility. Let’s see what the DA’s office has to say.”
“I’m with you, Chief” said Meacham. “Let’s start with the four City Council members who voted with Wattle to approve these projects – particularly on the selection of the sites owned by Braun. When Braun withdrew that large amount of cash, what happened to it? Did it end up in the pockets of some friendly town officials? Let me check them out without applying any overt pressure.”
“Let me make a few calls before you do anything, Billy. The credibility of this department will be at stake plus Wattle is still a slippery character with a number of powerful friends. And one more thing, Billy, don’t let your dislike for Braun cloud your judgment” said the Chief
***
After his round of golf followed by lunch and drinks at the club, Braun was driven back to the B&B where he knew his wife would be dutifully waiting his return.
She had spoken to Gwen the previous afternoon, as instructed, but had received no immediate response to their proposition regarding Woody. Well, that wasn’t surprising but perhaps, after a night of consideration, she had seen the wisdom of acceding to their generous offer.
“No calls this morning, dear” said Mrs. Braun apologetically when her husband inquired immediately upon walking in the door. “Damn her, how much time does it take to make a smart decision”, said Braun, starting to fume and feeling the lingering effects of his second martini. “Can’t she see a good thing when it is staring her in the face?”
“It seems to me that she cares a great deal for that boy, Woodrow. Surely, you can understand that”, said Mrs. Braun with unaccustomed temerity.
Braun bit the tip off and lit an Optimo. After a few minutes, he said, “Well, I’m not saying you’re right but let’s give her a bit more time. But if she hasn’t called you back within the next few days, she will hear from me directly.”
Mrs. Braun had concluded, after Sunday’s tete-a-tete with Gwen, that she was a gentle but also a principled, strong-willed woman. If her husband thought intimidation was going to be a successful tactic, she felt he was doomed to failure. But at this time in her life, she was reluctant to start giving advice to her husband.
***
Meacham knew they had to proceed cautiously. If Wattle got wind of this latest inquiry, he would try to silence his allies on the City Council. While they were no longer beholden to the former mayor for favors, Wattle might have information on their prior self-dealing that would make them less than eager to talk. As for Braun, Meacham would like nothing better than to bring that bastard down. Of course, the Chief was right and he would proceed cautiously against this overbearing man. He would have Fogarty tail him for a few days to see where he went and who he met. Meacham smiled when he thought of Fogarty, a hard-boiled gumheel in the old tradition. If Braun went into the sewer system to meet with a pack of rats, Fogie wouldn’t hesitate to follow him right in.
***
Angie had gone back to work at the hospital and Gwen was sitting in the kitchen with Woody when Mrs. Kosinsky called to invite Woody to dinner. Gwen was holding her hand over the receiver as she looked at him. He shook his head emphatically “no”.
When she hung up, Woody said “I’m staying here with you, Mom, and that’s it. You’re going back to work tomorrow and I will have plenty of time to hang out with Jerry. That means we have tonight together – just the two of us. Not even Rev. Carmichael, okay?”
“Yes sir” said Gwen. She then smiled broadly for the first time in days, straightening her posture and saluting Woody. “But I do have one request. There is something that I would like to discuss with Det. Meacham. Is it okay if he stops by this afternoon?”
“Sure, Mom, that’s different. Coach is always welcome” said Woody with an air of authority that made her chuckle.
“Well then, since I have your permission, I will call him right now” said Gwen with a twinkle in her eye as she reached for the telephone.
***
Meacham’s head was swimming with a diversity of thoughts as he drove over to see Gwen. His worst fear was that she going to make an announcement regarding her attachment to Rev. Carmichael. She certainly didn’t owe him any explanation but if she gave him one, he felt ill-prepared to challenge it.
When Meacham knocked on the door, Woody opened it and gave him a warm “hello”, raising his spirits. Looking past the living room, he could see Gwen seated in the dining room looking pensive. Meacham’s heart immediately sank.
“Woody, why don’t you take Pokey for a walk or find something else to do while Det
. Meacham and I talk?” Gwen said decisively. Woody just smiled and headed out the back door, coaxing the basset hound to follow him.
Meacham took a seat across the table and waited for Gwen to speak. She seemed to be struggling for words and the silence was torment for Meacham.
Finally, she began. “Billy, I am not surprised by the obnoxious behavior of Tommy’s father since his arrival back in town. Remember, I have known him for years and while somewhat prepared for his outburst was certainly shocked by his insinuation at the cemetery. And it did surprise me when he sent his wife here yesterday as a sort of emissary. I really would have expected that he would want to have the pleasure of confronting me himself. But perhaps after his display at the cemetery, he decided to show some unaccustomed discretion.
In any event, here is what she told me. They feel that one of the reasons for Tommy’s downfall was a lack of discipline in his adolescent years which made him vulnerable later on, presumably to alcohol and feminine wiles. Their excuse was that the father was so consumed with building the family business that he couldn’t have been expected to be around the house much. But had Tommy been sent to military school, discipline would have been drilled into him at an early age and would have had lasting benefits. Presumably, the problems with alcohol would never have materialized and he would also not have been seduced into a premature marriage.”
Gwen took a deep breath and went on. “So, the Brauns are proposing that Woody be sent to a private military boarding school for which they will pay all costs. Upon graduation, they will then pay for his college education, provided that it is at a school acceptable to them. And there’s more, Billy. They will set up what she called an irrevocable trust in the amount of $250,000 which will be available to Woody at age 30. A pretty generous offer for a mother to turn down without at least giving it full consideration, wouldn’t you say?”
Gwen cupped her hands and looked across the table beseechingly at Meacham. As Gwen’s story unfolded, Meacham felt anger toward the Brauns mixed with relief that there had been no mention of Rev. Carmichael. He felt almost certain that she had come to him first for advice.
“Can I assume that you have not discussed this matter with Woody yet?” asked Meacham. When Gwen nodded her assent, he paused before proceeding.
“I know that you put Woody’s best interests above all other considerations, Gwen, so whatever you decide will undoubtedly be done for those reasons. It just seems to me that Woody cannot afford the loss of his remaining parent in his daily life. No school or trust fund is going to take the place of you – it’s that simple.” Meacham had spoken earnestly but calmly and as he finished, it appeared that Gwen’s eyes had moistened.
“Thanks, Billy, I had to hear that from someone I trust. Before Angie left last night, I told her about the military school but nothing more. And do you know what she said to me? ‘Ask, Billy, he will talk straight to you.’ And she was right.”
Meacham stood up and said, “There is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for Woody and you, Gwen. Don’t ever doubt that for a moment. But let me also confess that my motives are not entirely selfless. You know I would hate to lose my starting shortstop.”
Gwen came around the table and gave Billy a warm embrace. She held him tight and neither of them said a word. Then, she pulled away gently and they looked simultaneously out the dining room window to see Woody peering in with a whimsical look on his face.
“And now, I best be going, Gwen” Meacham said softly as he turned toward the door.
***
Meacham sat in the hospital lobby waiting for Angie to answer the page. He smiled as he played over and over again in his mind those final moments with Gwen – and the apparent look of pleasure on Woody’s face gazing through the window. He wasn’t cocksure but felt that he had a chance now and he was going to capitalize on it – or go down in flames. Sure, there was no mention of the minister but that didn’t prove anything decisively. Perhaps, she was getting advice from him, too. But she had come to him first, hadn’t she? And that embrace before he left!
“What brings you here, Detective? Am I in trouble?” said Angie with hands defiantly on her hips. Meacham broke out of his reverie and glanced up at her. “Uh, yes, I may have to put you under arrest unless you agree to have coffee with me” said Meacham playfully. “Gee, I might prefer that you handcuff me and take me down to the station instead”, she came back quickly. “Coffee, Angie, that’s your only choice” said Meacham with mock severity. They both laughed and headed for the cafeteria.
Sitting at a corner table in the back, Angie sipped her coffee and looked over the top of her cup at Meacham, not willing to help him along. As he massaged his cup, Angie cleared her throat and scowled at him.
“I’ve got very strong feelings for Gwen, beyond friendship, and I just want to know if I’m too late, Angie. My fear is that she has formed a strong attachment to the minister and ----“ Meacham had blurted out these words but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Feeling some compassion, Angie said “It’s never too late until they’re at the altar, Billy, but I am assuming you don’t want to see that happen. Listen, Gwen has a great deal of respect for Rev. Carmichael but if she feels anything romantic toward him, I couldn’t tell you – nor would I even if I knew. They have been together a great deal lately and have had many private conversations. Gwen is a very cautious person and I would never pry but let me tell you what my woman’s intuition tells me – even if that is not what you are asking – and that is that the minister is madly in love with her. And let me make one more observation, Billy. Gwen is vulnerable right now and, as is often the case, people in such circumstances often make rash decisions that they later regret. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear but that’s all I can offer, except to add that even if you came here seeking my help, you wouldn’t get it. Gwen deserves someone who wins her heart of their own.”
Angie put down her cup but kept her eyes glued on Meacham until he looked back at her and nodded his head as if to say “Yep, that’s what I expected to hear.”
As they walked to the lobby, Meacham said, “Can we keep this conversation private for now, Angie? And just to be clear, I wasn’t asking you to intervene with Gwen on my behalf.”
“Are you sure about that, Billy? Didn’t you want to hear me say that you had a clear path to Gwen’s affections and that the minister wasn’t a threat? And if I said he was definitely a threat, wouldn’t you have asked me to go to bat for you?” After getting no response, Angie looked exasperated and said, “So, we’re the weaker sex, is that right? Listen, I need to get back on the floor.”
Meacham watched Angie turn and walk briskly down the hallway and suddenly he felt humiliated. He trusted that Angie would keep her promise but wished he had never come to see her.
***
“You wouldn’t make me go, would you Mom?” asked Woody with a frightful expression when she finished outlining the offer made by his grandparents. Gwen shook her head no and Woody’s face broke into a wide smile as he wiped away a tear from each eye. He was too elated and relieved to be embarrassed by his reaction.
Woody stood up and marched stiffly in front of his mother like a soldier on parade. When Gwen started to laugh, Woody lost his military demeanor and ran to her, putting his arms on her shoulders as she sat in her chair.
“So did Coach and you talk about anything else, Mom?” Woody asked. Gwen looked surprised and shook her head no. Woody kept a steady gaze on her and smiled but said nothing. Finally, Gwen looked exasperated and said “What?”
Still smiling, Woody said, “Hmmm, guess we won’t be seeing Rev. Carmichael much anymore – except on Sundays. He was rather ubiquitous, don’t you think?” And with that, Woody was off up the stairs, two steps at a time, before his mother had a chance to react to his surprising but accurate choice of words to describe the minister.
***
The Chief had consulted with the Acting Mayor and the DA while Meacham was out. O
f the four Council members fingered by Ward as Wattle cronies, two of them were still elected officials. Of the remaining two, one had moved out of town and the other, one Seymour Portnoy, had been retired by the voters and was still living in Parlor City.
Meacham returned to the station and tried to put the futile and embarrassing meeting with Angie out of his mind. His self-absorption was interrupted when the Chief buzzed him to come to his office.
“Billy, the DA wants to proceed on the assumption that what Ward documented in his diary is the proverbial ‘tip of the iceberg’. He has recommended, and I agreed, that his team will have an informal chat with Sullivan and Percy. Since they are elected officials, we need to see how they react to Ward’s accusations. If they took bribes on these two projects as well as others, they have most likely been clever enough to cover their tracks. It’s not unlikely that Wattle got to them shortly after his resignation to put them on guard. And I must say that it is ironic that Braun would return home for his son’s funeral only to walk into a hornet’s nest partly of his own making. With Portnoy out of office, we don’t have to worry about politics. Pay him a visit and see what you can get out of him.” The Chief leaned back in his chair and a broad grin spread across his face. Meacham could see that he was finally enjoying himself, unencumbered by the ex-Mayor’s meddlesome oversight.
“First, I want to check with Fogarty, Chief. He has been tracking Braun to see where he goes. Then, I will make a house call on Mr. Portnoy.”
***
Meacham couldn’t reach Fogarty so decided to drive over to Portnoy’s house, a modest cape on the East side of town. When he pulled up in front of the house, his radio was crackling and he heard Fogarty’s voice ask, “What’s up, Meach?”
“I am outside the house of Seymour Portnoy on Bevier just getting ready to pay the former Councilman a visit. Where are you? Any updates?”
“Did you say Bevier, Meach? What number?” When Meacham told him 117, Fogarty sounded excited. “Wow, now ain’t that a coincidence. I followed Braun there about an hour ago. He’s now back at the B&B.”
The Parlor City Boys Page 24
