Consulting Detective

by Alan Manifold

  “The same thing is true about money,” Beth said. “There are lots and lots of ways that could lead to murder.”

  “Good point,” Mihdí replied. “I’ll need to look into that more carefully as well.”

  “What do we have in the way of suspects?” Darla asked.

  “Nothing solid at all,” Mihdí said. “I do have some people who seem to have some connection, but I haven’t had much chance to follow up yet. Let me give you the run down on what I have to date.

  Mihdí told them what he knew about Andy Sapp and the incident with Rick Sapp being arrested.

  “I’ve talked to Darla about it, and she had one rather thin lead on skinhead activity in town. I verified that the name in her file is the same guy that Andy Sapp has been hanging around with. I talked to the guy the other day, and he has an attitude as big as all outdoors, but he claims he was at work until 3:00 p.m., then took the bus home. If all that is true, I don’t think he could have had time to commit the murder. Kurt, I think I sent you an e-mail asking you to check on his timecard.”

  “Yep,” said Kurt. “I’ve got it on my list to do that today.”

  Mihdí continued with his rundown. “Next door to the synagogue is a coffee shop run by an Arab Muslim from Tunisia. I don’t think he’s involved in any way.”

  “Even though he’s Muslim?” Beth asked.

  “Yes,” said Mihdí. “There is absolutely nothing that I’ve found that suggests any anti-Semitism or violence in his character or beliefs. He seems to be mostly an entrepreneur, trying to make it in a tough business.”

  “If you say so,” Beth replied.

  “Also on the block is a Christian bookstore. One of the employees is a born-again and somewhat fanatical Christian who has some personal history with the rabbi and seems to dislike him. I got some new information on him but haven’t completed all of the necessary investigation.”

  Mihdí also told them about Charlie Richardson and his connection to the possible move of the synagogue. He mentioned that the corner deli would probably move if the synagogue moved and that Neil Hoffman hoped Richardson would be interested in that.

  “But Richardson has a solid alibi,” added Mihdí. “I talked to a couple that he directed me to and they confirmed that he spent the entire afternoon of the murder with them, from 1:00 to 6:00 p.m., showing them houses in Pine Bluff.

  Finally, Mihdí filled them in on what he knew about Scott Craig, including the fact that Craig had stood him up on Friday, but that they had an appointment for that afternoon.

  “Well, where does that leave us?” Mihdí asked.

  Darla thought Brent Wiegand was the most likely suspect based on his avowed racism and the tie-in to the graffiti. Kurt was more inclined toward thinking that Charlie Richardson must have some connection because of his potential financial gain from the congregation moving. Beth felt that Mihdí should dig deeper into Ahmad Muhammad, thinking that it was too much of a coincidence for an Arab Muslim to be right next door to the murder of a rabbi and not be involved. Mihdí was leaning towards Matthew Skefton as his prime suspect because he thought he would be most fanatical early on in his religious indoctrination. They all agreed that Scott Craig needed to be investigated further as well.

  After that, the four of them consulted for about ten more minutes, reviewing the facts and trying to figure out what they could deduce. They quickly decided that they did not have enough facts to make any further conclusions.

  Mihdí summarized, “We agree that it is most likely that a single person committed all of the crime in this case, although there are anomalies. There must have been some premeditation to this crime, at least on the day of the murder, because the scenario of the rabbi surprising someone writing graffiti on the wall doesn’t fit all the facts. If the vandalism is only there to cover up the murder, the true motive could be just about anything. The possible skinhead connection seemed to fit best with the idea of vandalism, not premeditated murder, as we have no evidence of any past violence related to Wiegand or other racist groups. We’re pretty divided about which of the suspects stands out, but they all need to be investigated more. I need to push a little harder on some of the alibis to see if they hold up. Perhaps the biggest need is to find out more about the victim to see what kind of motive fits best with his life and death. Does that cover it?”

  “Sounds right to me,” said Kurt Childs, and the others nodded their assent.

  As they were wrapping up, Darla Brownlee’s assistant came in and passed a phone message to her.

  “Here’s a coincidence,” Darla said after reading the message. “I just got a call from a Captain Bertram in Bridgeview,” she replied, “Brent Wiegand was arrested early this morning for vandalism at some kind of Islamic Community Center. He had broken in and had messed things up a bit, throwing books around, knocking stuff over and painting slogans on the wall. Sounds similar enough to what happened at the synagogue that I thought you might be interested.”

  “I’m definitely interested,” Mihdí asked. “Where is he now?”

  “He’s at the lockup at Bridgeview right now,” she told him. “Bertram asked me if I wanted to interview him, and I said I did. So, I’m heading up there right now. Wanna come?”

  “I’ve already got my coat on,” Mihdí said, following her out to the parking lot.

  The drive over took them a bit less than twenty minutes. When they arrived, they went through a standard security screening, then waited in a holding area while Wiegand was brought from his cell to an interview room. Once he was inside, the two Pine Bluff detectives entered the room and sat down across the table from Brent Wiegand. They had agreed that Brownlee would initiate the questioning.

  “You are Brent Wiegand?” she asked the prisoner.

  “That’s right,” Wiegand answered, “as I’m sure you know, since I just talked to your pig buddy here a few days ago.” Wiegand was still in a preliminary lockup, waiting to be processed, so he was still wearing his own clothes, not an orange jumpsuit. He had on sneakers, jeans, a dark t-shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt pulled over it. They had learned from his arrest sheet that he was twenty-two years old. He had blue eyes and brown hair, and his beard and moustache were very thin and spotty, as if the right hormones hadn’t quite kicked in to grow anything fuller.

  Brownlee continued, “I am Lieutenant Darla Brownlee of the Pine Bluff Police Department, and, as you know, this is my colleague, Detective Mihdí Montgomery.”

  Wiegand didn’t respond.

  “I understand that you were caught in the act of vandalizing an Islamic Community Center earlier today, is that correct?” she asked.

  “That’s what I’m accused of,” Wiegand said. “I don’t think I need to answer your questions without having a lawyer present.”

  “That’s correct, Mr. Wiegand,” Brownlee replied, “as I’m sure you were told when you were brought in here. Actually, we’re not involved in that case, and it is of no interest to us. We’re more interested in activities of a similar nature in Pine Bluff. Do you know anything about that?”

  Wiegand shrugged. “Midi-boy already asked me about that. Like I told ’em, I don’t know nuthin’ about it.”

  “What do you think about Jews, Mr. Wiegand?” Mihdí asked him.

  “I don’t give a rip about Jews, Islams, or whatever,” Wiegand replied. “I just want to be able to live in America like my ancestors done. Anybody else can just go back where they came from and leave this country to white guys like me.”

  “You told me earlier that you didn’t know anything about the incident last week, which also involved spray paint and graffiti, at the Congregation Beth Shalom Synagogue,” Mihdí said. “Are you still sticking with your story? It sounds like that would be right up your alley . . .”

  “If you’re trying to pin that murder on me,” Wiegand said. “I ain’t sayin’ another word without a lawyer.”

  “We can’t force you to talk, of course, as you know,” Mihdí said. “Can anyone verify your whereabou
ts that day?”

  “I worked until 3:00 p.m.,” he said, “then I get home around 3:45, and some guys usually drop in about then.”

  “What guys, exactly?” asked Detective Brownlee.

  “I don’t know who was there a week ago, for God’s sake.”

  “You said you usually get home at 3:45,” Mihdí said. “Are you certain that you did that last Tuesday?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact,” Wiegand said. “I take the bus every day, and it lets me off at the end of my block at the same time within a minute practically every day.”

  “You don’t own a car?” Brownlee asked.

  “Nope,” Wiegand replied. “Can’t afford one.”

  “Could anyone confirm that you were on the bus that day?” Brownlee inquired.

  “Doubt it,” Wiegand said, hotly. “Like I told your sidekick here the other day, I don’t know any of ’em, and it was just a day like any other.”

  Mihdí asked, “Did Andy Sapp drop by that evening?”

  “Like I said, I don’t know,” Wiegand snapped. “He’s there a lot, but not every night, so I just don’t know.”

  “Did you ever talk to Andy about coming to the Islamic Center last night?” Mihdí asked.

  “No. He’s too young to understand all the stuff I do, so I left him out of it.”

  “So you’ve never discussed participating in any illegal activity with him?”

  “I’m not answering that question,” Wiegand replied. “Seems like you’re trying to trap me.”

  Mihdí chuckled. “Well, I can see why you would think so, but I’m really not. I’m concerned about Andy Sapp and I wanted to know if you’ve been involving him in anything that I would need to be worried about. You’ve certainly given him some of your flyers.”

  “He saw the flyers himself and asked about them. He’s smart enough to see what’s happening to decent white people in this country.”

  “I guess I’m not that smart,” said Mihdí, “because I’m not seeing it.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t, would you,” Wiegand said, defiantly.

  “I think we’re done here,” interjected Detective Brownlee.

  “I guess we are,” said Mihdí, “for now.” He turned to Brent Wiegand. “Since nobody can verify your alibi for the synagogue crimes, we may be in and out of your life for a while. Based on the circumstances of your arrest, it doesn’t seem like you’ll be going anywhere for a while.”

  Wiegand snorted and turned away.

  The two detectives left the interview room and informed the attending officer that they were done. They asked the duty officer if they could talk to whoever was handling the case and sat down to wait in the holding area.

  Brownlee observed, “He didn’t really give us anything at all to implicate him in the Klemme case.”

  “No,” Mihdí agreed. “He certainly didn’t clear himself, but neither did we get anything useful. Truth be told, he doesn’t seem smart enough to plan and carry out premeditated murder and get away with it. He got caught this time in the middle of the night, for heaven’s sake. How could he have murdered Klemme in the middle of the day and not made a mess of it? And if we verify his work schedule, he wouldn’t have had a big window in which to get to the synagogue and murder Klemme before 4:00.”

  “It’s an hour,” Darla said. “That’s plenty of time.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Mihdí admitted. “Perhaps the bus driver or one of the regular riders will be able to confirm or deny his story. Anyway, I’ll follow up on the parts we can confirm and see if that clarifies anything. If we catch him in a lie, that would tell us something.”

  A few moments later, a young woman came out of the office area and approached them.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Detective Owens. I’m handling the incident at the Islam Center.”

  Darla and Mihdí stood and offered their hands.

  “I’m Lieutenant Brownlee, and this is Detective Montgomery from Pine Bluff. We have some interest in your perp regarding another crime, and we just got done talking to him.”

  “Right,” said Detective Owens. “Come on back to my desk. What can I do for you?”

  “We were just wondering if there was anything you could add to what we heard from him,” Darla replied.

  “Did you already see the arrest report?” Owens asked.

  Darla nodded.

  “I can’t add much to that, I guess. We got an anonymous tip that there was something going on at the Islam Center, so we sent a car over to check it out.”

  “Do you know where the tip came from?” Mihdí asked.

  “Not yet, but I’ll send you an e-mail once we find that out. Anyway, they caught this Wiegand guy spray-painting slogans in the main hall there. He hadn’t actually gotten that far along, and he was caught in the act.”

  “Was he wearing gloves, by any chance?” Mihdí asked.

  “Yeah, he was. They’re right here, actually.” She handed Mihdí the evidence bag that contained the gloves.

  “I see both black and red paint on these,” Mihdí observed. “Had he used both colors on the walls?”

  “Nope. Just the black. He must have done this before.”

  “Just what I was thinking,” Mihdí said.

  Darla and Mihdí looked at each other to confirm that neither of them had anything else to ask. Darla said, “Unless you have something else for us, we don’t need to keep you. Thanks for your time.”

  They chatted about their families as they drove back to the Pine Bluff Police Station. When he got back to his office, Mihdí checked in with Kurt Childs about Brent Wiegand.

  “I talked to Wiegand’s supervisor,” Kurt said. “He confirmed that Wiegand was at work last Tuesday and that he had clocked out at 3:01 p.m. He didn’t know if Wiegand had gotten on the bus, but he asked around quickly to see if anyone remembered. One of Wiegand’s coworkers, who rides the same bus, confirmed that Wiegand usually rides the bus, but couldn’t remember for sure if he did last Tuesday.”

  “That’s great stuff, Kurt,” said Mihdí. “Thanks!”

  “Ah, but there’s more,” Kurt said. “I ran Wiegand’s name and found him in our databases. He hasn’t been convicted of anything or even arrested, as far as I can find. But he was a suspect in a murder investigation in New Lenox just this last May. Wiegand was seen in the area the night that a . . . let’s see . . . Silas Pattison was stabbed to death. But there were no witnesses and no murder weapon, so New Lenox couldn’t establish if Wiegand was involved. He denied it, of course.”

  “That’s quite interesting,” Mihdí said. “Could you ask New Lenox to send the file to me, in case there’s anything else in it?”

  “Will do!”

  “Could you also see if we can get a warrant to search Wiegand’s place? Clear it with Bridgeview PD as well because we don’t want to tread on their investigation.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll text you when we’ve got it.”

  “Thanks, Kurt.”

  Mihdí walked over to Darla’s office and told her what he had learned.

  She said, “The fact that he was at work on Tuesday doesn’t really tell us any more than we already knew, other than confirming it. If he rode the bus, he probably couldn’t have committed the murder, but since we don’t have any verification about the bus, we can’t say one way or the other. And the connection to the other murder doesn’t give us anything, either, does it? There doesn’t seem to be any connection to your case.”

  Mihdí decided he wanted to talk to Andy Sapp. As a close friend of Wiegand’s, the boy couldn’t be trusted as a reliable witness, but the detective wanted to tell Sapp directly about Wiegand’s arrest for two reasons. He wanted to see Sapp’s reaction, which he thought might tell him more about whether there had been any discussion about the vandalism at the Islamic Center or about other such activities. Mihdí also hoped that if he showed this much interest in the boy, Andy might feel more inclined to spend at least some of his time with a better set of friends, perh
aps the musicians that Mihdí had mentioned to him.

  He drove over to the school and once again had Andy Sapp paged to the office. The whole interview took only a few minutes. Andy seemed honestly surprised about Wiegand’s arrest and the reason for it. Mihdí asked him if he had seen spray paint or other suspicious items around Wiegand’s apartment.

  Andy thought about it for a moment before saying, “I’ve never seen anything like that in his apartment, but I did once see Brent unlock a closet down the hall from his place. When I asked him about it, he said it was included in his rent because his apartment didn’t have much storage space in it. And we’ve talked about tagging with spray paint.”

  “Oh, that’s helpful,” Mihdí said. “Have you had a chance to check out that community center I mentioned the other day?”

  “Not really,” Andy said. “I did walk by it the other day, just to see where it was. I might go there sometime.”

  Mihdí smiled at the fact that Andy had remembered his comment and followed up. After that, neither of them had any more to say to each other, so Mihdí didn’t prolong the visit.

  Mihdí had received a text from Kurt Childs saying that a warrant had been secured to search Brent Wiegand’s apartment, and since Mihdí was already nearby, he took the opportunity to stop by. The apartment was located in a rundown, two-story house on a rundown block in a rundown neighborhood. Mihdí knocked on the front door of the house. An elderly woman answered the door.

  “Are you the owner of this house, by any chance?” Mihdí asked.

  “Yes, my husband and I own this house,” she replied.

  Mihdí introduced himself and showed her his badge. “I have a warrant to search Mr. Wiegand’s apartment. Could you open the door for me, please?”

  “I don’t get around as easily as I used to, Detective,” she said. “But let me get you my key and you can help yourself.”

  “Thank you very kindly, ma’am,” Mihdí said, as she was turning away to get the key. “I understand there’s a closet in the hallway that goes along with that apartment. I’d like to see that as well.”