This case, however, was different. They knew who the killer was and he had left enough evidence implicating himself.
The only question they were left to answer was why.
Lopez asked the Ronston’s if they had noticed any conflict between the three neighbors and their response was… never. All three were good friends. In fact, on one Thanksgiving Irma had brought both of them over to their house for dinner.
The Ronston’s couldn’t fathom how something like this could have happened to someone like them.
Lopez assured them she would find out why.
The visit to Brendan Haddon’s mother was not something Lopez could prepare herself for. Mrs. Haddon lived by herself in a one bedroom apartment. From the moment Lopez introduced herself, Mrs. Haddon accused her and her department of not doing their jobs. According to Mrs. Haddon, the department knew who her son’s killer was and they were protecting him (or her).
Mrs. Haddon was correct in her assumptions, but Lopez couldn’t deny or confirm them. She wasn’t in the position to do so. She was only there to find out more about her son.
Whenever Lopez tried to ask about Brendan’s relationship with his neighbors, Mrs. Haddon waved the question off. She had never met them and her son never spoke about them.
Lopez wasn’t one to judge, but Mrs. Haddon didn’t seem like the sociable type. She oozed bitterness and hostility. It didn’t help that she was constantly taking pills she washed down with booze.
Mrs. Haddon then proceeded to rail against society and the powers that be. They were all collectively trying to control the world and they were willing to destroy those who came in between their goals. Her son was a casualty of that. Brendan had found purity in life and he wanted to spread it to every person he met. Her son died for doing the right thing.
Lopez only listened. On the one hand, she found the woman delusional, but on the other, she pitied her for losing her child.
No parent should outlive their children.
When Mrs. Haddon fell asleep during one of her rants, Lopez quietly left the apartment.
THIRTY-THREE
Nolan sat across from Ross and his wife, Vivien, in their living room. He had already met their other sons, Ralph and Trevor. They both had good jobs. Ralph was married and had a child on the way.
Nolan was there to extend his condolences. Both husband and wife were appreciative of his visit.
After a few minutes of idle chit chat, Ross said, “Honey, I think we will retire to the study.”
Mrs. Ross acted like it was common for her husband to take his guests into his office in order to discuss matters in private. He was, after all, the Captain of the Franklin Police Department, which meant there were things his wife could never be privy to.
The study was small, with a desk on one side and two recliners across from it.
“Thanks again for coming, Tom,” Ross said.
“I should have come earlier, sir.”
“You have no idea how relieved Vivien is to have you on the case. She trusts you.”
Nolan nodded. Simone, Nolan’s wife, and Mrs. Ross had become acquainted during police gatherings. They knew what it meant to be married to someone in law enforcement. After her death, Mrs. Ross was devastated and had gone out of her way to reach out to him. But he was too distraught to accept her help or anyone else’s for that matter.
Ross went around his desk, and, from the bottom drawer, pulled out two glasses and a bottle of scotch.
“Nothing for me, sir,” Nolan said.
“They’re not for you, Tom.” Ross filled both glasses and then took a long drink from the first.
“Sir, can I ask you a few questions about Rudy?” Nolan said.
“Go ahead.”
“Did you know Rudy was involved in a drug study?”
“I saw that on the news. But no, I had no idea. He never mentioned it to us.” Ross paused, looked Nolan in the eye. “Why? Is there a connection?”
“I don’t know yet,” Nolan admitted. Nolan wasn’t sure how the drug trial had become bigger than it was. It was supposed to be a lead only he was working on. Now the entire city was privy to this information.
“Do the other families know Rudy is a suspect?” Ross asked.
“Not yet. Does Mrs. Ross know?”
“Not yet.”
“The prints on the murder weapon came back from the lab, and they are indeed Rudy’s.” Nolan said.
Ross took a deep breath, gulped down the liquor in the other glass. He made a face as the scotch burned his throat.
“Does Doug know?” Ross asked.
“The report hasn’t reached him yet.”
Ross didn’t press him as to why. He just nodded, knowing that he could trust Nolan implicitly.
“Just find out what’s going on,” Ross ordered Nolan.
THIRTY-FOUR
Hyder was at his desk, staring at his laptop screen. He wanted to get some work done, but his mind was elsewhere.
He was still upset about losing the story to the Franklin Herald. It had come to him first and he hated not being able to break it.
Veronica had sent Felix to the archives to pull up material for another story. Hyder was glad he wasn’t following him around.
He wasn’t really angry at Felix, though. He couldn’t blame him for what he did. Hyder would have done the same. He was more angry at himself. He had put his friendship before his job. But what else could he have done?
He had tried to confirm the connection and Nolan had told him he hadn’t found any yet. Hyder was right in not printing an unsubstantiated story. If he did, it would have opened up the Daily Times to lawsuits.
The Franklin Herald had been careful, though. In their article they never once stated the connection as a fact. They alluded to it, basing it on anonymous sources. From the way the article was written, they were not placing responsibility on Devon Pharma, they were merely asking questions.
This was a very slippery slope, Hyder knew. Even if the paper never accused someone of something, but just alluded to it, they were inferring guilt on them. It was like that old yes or no question: “Have you stopped taking drugs?” If the person answered no, then it meant they were still taking drugs. If they answer yes, then they had taken drugs before. The interviewee was screwed either way.
Hyder disliked like that type of journalism. It was dangerous and corrosive. It toyed with the public’s opinion.
Hyder liked to focus on the facts. There was no way the other party could refute something that was the truth. They could try their very best to deny it, but eventually, the truth always prevailed.
He sighed. He was just beating himself up for doing the right thing. He would’ve done the same thing if he got the chance to do it again.
His stomach rumbled. The more stressed he felt the more energy he wasted.
If he didn’t relax, he would find the day’s fast more difficult than usual.
He needed to distract himself.
His eyes fell on the newspaper clipping about Francine’s death. His visit to J. Robert Munn’s talk didn’t answer any of his questions.
Maybe it was time he paid him a visit.
THIRTY-FIVE
The headquarters of Munn Enterprises was located on the fourteenth floor of an office building.
Hyder took the elevator up, not sure if he would find Munn there or if he would even be able to speak to him. But he felt it was worth a shot.
They called it “ambush reporting,” and Hyder wasn’t averse to it if it was done professionally and with consideration.
He would ask to speak to Munn and if he was refused, he would come back later.
There was no point in applying pressure if it failed in accomplishing his goals. The last thing he wanted was for security to personally escort him out of the building.
He introduced himself to the secretary and asked if he could see Mr. Munn. She told him his schedule was booked. He stated that he worked for the Daily Times and was interested in Mr. Munn’s opinion on a stor
y.
Realizing the potential of having her boss in the Daily Times, she quickly dialed his number.
She hung up and told him that Mr. Munn was currently on a conference call, but he had agreed to meet with him.
Ten minutes later, the secretary led Hyder into Munn’s office.
The first thing Hyder noticed was how grand and opulent the office was. On the right, by the windows, was a large desk. Across from it, on the other side of the room, were two sofas placed opposite each other. Above the sitting area was a large chandelier. Around the walls were portraits of Munn. Hyder also spotted a large mirror.
“Mr. Ali,” Munn said. He looked diminutive behind his desk. He stood up and came over with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I’m sorry, but this was sort of spontaneous.”
“I don’t mind spontaneity,” he said with a wink. “Come, let us sit and talk.”
He took Hyder to the sofas.
“Now, what would you like to drink? Coffee? Tea? Juice?”
“Nothing for me. I’m fasting,” Hyder replied.
Munn looked at him.
“It’s Ramadan.” Hyder explained.
“Ah, a man of God,” Munn exclaimed. He excused the secretary and came over and sat down across from him. “As you get older, you don’t find many people devoted to their faith.”
“Are you religious, Mr. Munn?” Hyder asked.
“I used to be.”
“Atheist or Agnostic.”
“Neither.”
“What do you mean?”
“I chose not to put myself in any category. Most people find it easier to label someone, so they know how someone fits in society. But I find this to be very constricting. We are all here on this earth for a short time, so I say, why put people in different boxes?”
Hyder nodded.
“Let me first apologize for the other night,” Munn continued. “I didn’t recognize who you were even after you had introduced yourself. You see, when you are surrounded by hundreds or even thousands of people, you’re not sure who is friend and who is foe.”
“You have received threats?” Hyder asked.
“Sure, but it comes with the territory. While I have many devotees, I also have many detractors.”
“Just by looking at the turnout for your talk, I can tell you have more devotees than detractors.”
“Thank you.” Munn smiled.
“It almost resembled a religious gathering.”
“Or a cult? Isn’t that what you wanted to say?” Munn asked, giving Hyder a knowing look.
Hyder nodded.
“To be honest with you, I have no interest in religion. If people want to follow a particular faith, then who am I to tell them not to?”
Hyder began to revise his initial opinion about Munn. He was now very congenial and charming. Hyder could understand why Munn’s followers were so devoted to him.
“But religion can be very powerful,” Munn continued. “It can be used for both good and bad. In your case, for instance, your belief in God has given you the strength to control your hunger and appetite. It shows what the body is capable of achieving when the mind is focused.”
“Is that why you are against prescription medications? In one of your articles, you espoused the notion that the mind could heal the body, and in some cases, even cure cancer.”
“That’s true,” Munn replied with a smile. “I believe the mind is the most powerful tool humans have. It can create problems and solve them as well.” Munn paused, as if collecting his thoughts. “Please don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say next. I am not against medications; I am, after all, a doctor…”
“You are?” Hyder quickly asked. “I never read that in your bio.”
Munn blinked as if realizing he had said too much. “That was a long time ago, but I am against pharmaceutical companies who are creating those medications.”
“But they are the ones who are creating cures for diseases.” Hyder politely challenged.
Munn scoffed. “That’s where you are wrong. The pharmaceutical companies don’t want to cure you, they only want to treat you, so you keep coming back. Right now, they have medication or treatments for all major diseases, but obviously, it would not be profitable if they don’t have repeat customers.”
“Are you saying the pharmaceutical companies are purposely not releasing new drugs that could help save lives?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And I’ll go even further and say it is these greedy companies who are trying to control who gets better and how they get better.” Munn was now standing by his desk, his face beet red. “They are trying to patent every aspect of the human body so that one day we won’t even have the right to do anything to ourselves without their consent.”
Hyder didn’t know what to say.
Munn composed himself. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I apologize. I get a bit passionate when it comes to these topics.”
“I’m in no position to debate whether you are right or wrong.” Hyder replied. “But I do believe that science, with the financial help of private interests, has assisted in the eradication of many diseases that once plagued mankind. Whether it was chicken pox, malaria, measles, polio, or even typhoid. Without these companies putting up money to mass market the drugs, who knows how many millions would have died from just these diseases only.”
“But do they tell you how many have died due to the various reactions to these drugs?” Munn asked. “If I were you, I would look into it. You might be surprised by what you find.”
Hyder realized he had spent too much time debating Munn instead of finding answers to the questions he came to ask. “The reason I came here, Mr. Munn, is to know why Francine Robeault from the Franklin Herald was so keen on speaking to you.”
“What I told you then, I’ll tell you now. I have never heard of that name until you mentioned it.”
“I’m finding it very hard to believe you,” Hyder said. “I have a note in her handwriting that states that she wanted to confront you and ask questions. What I want to know is, what questions did she want to ask you?”
This time Munn looked annoyed. “I think I’ve given you enough of my time. I ask have to ask you to leave now. I have a lot of work to do.”
Hyder stood up. “I will keep digging until I find what Francine was working on, you can count on that.”
Munn’s expression was impassive. “I expect nothing less from a reporter. Goodbye, Mr. Ali.”
THIRTY-SIX
Lopez was back in the IT unit, but this time she was without Pascale.
Carl Danka was behind his computer, working the keyboard like a piano. He glanced at Lopez and winked at her.
Lopez rolled her eyes. Danka was at it again. No matter how many times she turned down his advances, he still kept trying. Maybe he couldn’t help himself. Maybe he thought if he continued, he might wear her down and she would eventually cave in. Fat chance of that ever happening, she thought.
“When did you get it?” she asked, hoping to divert his attention back to why she was there in the first place.
“It came in this morning,” he replied.
She was referring to the footage between Rudy Jr. and his girlfriend from their chat on the computer. They had to send a court order to force the software company to hand over the video recording.
Now that they had it, Lopez wanted to view it.
Danka hit the play button. On the screen, Lopez saw an image of Rudy. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn on the day of the murders.
Rudy looked happy and excited.
“Is there audio?” Lopez said.
“Not right now, but further into the footage they use the microphones.”
Lopez was aware Danka had already seen it. He was never one to wait for anyone.
“Can you fast-forward it to that location?”
“No problem. Anything for you, babe.”
Lopez was tempted to slap him across the head
.
“Can you hear me?” Rudy said on the screen.
“Loud and clear,” Nataly replied with a laugh.
“Awesome.”
“Did you miss me, baby?”
“I did, and did you miss me?”
“So much.” She made a sad face.
“Don’t worry, I’ll drive over this weekend to see you.”
“But I’ve got my midterms next week.” More sad face.
“Then how about the weekend after?”
“It’s too far away,” she pouted.
“Baby, it’s only a week. After that we’ll see each other every day.”
“Yay,” she said like a child.
There was a noise in the background. It sounded like the ringing of the telephone. Rudy tried to ignore it, but it kept ringing.
“Baby, give me one second,” he said and got up. He then disappeared from view.
Lopez heard him say “Hello?” Silence followed. She then heard him put something down. She assumed it was the cell phone.
Lopez could see the clock at the bottom of the video. . A good thirty seconds went by before Rudy reappeared. Instead of coming back to the computer, however, he walked straight past it and disappeared from view once again. She heard the door open and shut.
A few seconds went by. Nataly finally asked, “Rudy? Baby? Are you there?”
More time went by and Rudy did not return. Tired of waiting, Nataly finally logged off.
“Go back in the footage,” Lopez said.
“How far back?”
“When he got up to answer the phone.”
Danka played it again. Rudy went off camera, answered the phone, and then reappeared in the background.
“Play it in slow motion,” Lopez quickly ordered.
“What? Did you see something?”
“Let me make sure.”
On the screen, Rudy was moving very slowly. The camera had caught him from the side angle. As Rudy moved past the screen, Lopez exclaimed, “Stop it right there!”
Danka did, leaned closer to the screen.
His mouth dropped.
The first time she had seen the footage she had missed it, but the second time she had spotted the light reflecting off of it. It was too fast for Nataly to have spotted, but Lopez had the luxury of technology.
The Runaway Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #3) Page 8
