Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set

by Bob Moats

  I asked Penny if she would go get my Fuji digital camera out of the car. I was just looking around, taking in the whole place, trying not to disturb anything till Penny came back. She brought me the camera, and I shot a good number of pictures of the rooms then said we needed to see if we could find anything incriminating. I didn’t think we would, the place was already hit pretty good. We dug through the few papers that were there, but found nothing special, just info on “treatments” as she called them. No names to be found, just numbers to denote her clients. I was sure she didn’t have that good of a memory, so there must be a book or file with names and numbers to go by.

  I was going around knocking on the walls, hoping to find a secret panel. Nothing gave. I took a chair with straps out of the back room and stood on it to see over the tall walled box that housed the furnace. Nothing on top. I up righted the desk and stood on it, pushing a ceiling tile over and looking around above the ceiling. I couldn’t see anything up there, either. The drawers on the desk were all pulled out so I figured the person checked inside the desk. We came up with nothing after an exhaustive search, and it was starting to get late, so I said to pack it in. We went out, and I made sure the door was secure. I stopped to let Willy know we were leaving, and I told him I would check with Dave about the office. He thanked me and we left.

  We got back, Penny pulled her car in the garage, and I parked on the side like I usually do. We went in, and Penny said she felt grubby from the sex shop and was going to take a nice long bath. She asked if I wanted to join her. I said I was going to make a few phone calls and we could pick up in the bedroom. She zipped off to the bathroom, and I got on my phone and called Buck. He was his usual chipper self, and I told him all that happened after he left. He said he was just going to have to move in with us so he wouldn’t miss all the fun. I told Buck I was going to call Benson, and then I would see him in the morning at the office. He agreed and hung up.

  I called Benson’s cell phone number and got his voice mail. I left a message and put the phone down. I sat back organizing all my thoughts of the day. It was a busy one. Got a few things started and would nail Ralph tomorrow. I would have more info and a possible divorce lawyer for Elma. I smiled. There was not much else I could do right then, so I thought about that offer to share a bath with my favorite girl. Crime could wait one more day. I took her offer.

  *

  Chapter Seven

  We were up early and getting ready to go to our respective jobs. Penny said she had a couple of home improvement guys on her show today. I hoped she didn’t start remodeling the house now. We kissed, and she went off. I always worried about her and that long drive to her studio on the freeways. She was a big girl, and I knew she was careful, but there are way too many idiots on the roads for me not to worry. I had to take it in stride.

  I got to my office around 8:50, and Buck was there in his usual resting position in the lobby. I kicked his feet this time, and he jumped up, but I had already backed off, anticipating his automatic response.

  “Good morning, Jimmy. How are you this fine morning?” He gave me his big walrus smile that always brightened my day.

  “Well, I’m hoping we can do some good for the world and make it a better place to live in,” I said.

  He laughed. “At least make Elma’s life better.”

  “Yep, and I’m hoping I don’t have any more B&D people popping up.” I opened the door to my office, and we went in. I sat at my desk, bringing up a camera case just as my cell phone rang. It was Benson.

  “Good morning,” I said. “I’ve got some more interesting details for you.” I told him about the office mess and what my feelings on the case were, and he agreed. Something more was going on. I just needed to find the mystery woman. I said I’d like to talk to the primary detective on Weston’s case. Benson said to be careful if there were cops involved. I said I’d watch my hide, and we finished.

  I dialed Trapper’s number, and he came on. I asked if he had a minute to spare. He said crime had stopped for the day just for me, so he had time to talk. I spent the next twenty minutes filling him in on what we came up with on Ralph then gave him all the gory details on the Weston case. I explained about my checking with the barmaid and showing her my photo and about the police showing a different photo. He said that sounded queer to him, something was off.

  “To mix up ID photos comes under three headings, carelessness, stupidity or a cover-up,” Trapper offered. “It sounds like a cover-up to me.”

  I agreed.

  “Do you know this Detective Lincoln on the Roseville squad?” I asked.

  “I’ve heard a little about him, ambitious, arrogant, asshole, the three A’s of evil.” He laughed. “But I wouldn’t trust him from what I hear.”

  “Could he have been a customer of Noreen’s and took over the case to cover himself?” I asked.

  “Anything’s possible. If he was involved in the murder, it would be easy for him to bury the evidence since no one else is going to nose around in his case. Let me snoop around my precinct, see if anyone knows more about him. I’ll call you if I find anything,” he offered.

  “Buck’s here with me. Want to say anything to him?” I asked.

  He said he had nothing to say to Buck.

  Buck yelled, “Catch any good hookers lately, Trapper?”

  I heard Trapper growl and say, “You just had to tell him what Weber said, didn’t you?”

  “Just trying to be fair with everyone, keeping all concerned on the same footing,” I said.

  “Thanks, Richards, I love you, too.” He hung up. I was going to have to ask him about his aversion to saying good-bye.

  “Buck, are you good at handling a video camera? I don’t mean for porn, either.”

  Buck smiled and said he knew which end was which. I opened the camera case and handed him my Sony Handicam and showed him the functions of the buttons. I said I had a wireless microphone under my shirt and I attached a receiver to the camcorder, turned them both on and spoke into the mic. Buck was listening through the headphones from the receiver, and said it came through loud and clear. I told him to keep listening and went out the door, down the hall, still talking. I was outside the building then came back in. Buck said it never lost contact.

  I packed the camcorder in the case and said, “Time to capture a pervert.” We headed out.

  I parked my car in front of the pool store facing the windows. I set the thing up for Buck and told him my plan. He loved it. I went in the building and got some twerpy looking guy in a pastel green shirt. I asked for Ralph, and he said he could help me. I asked again for Ralph. He grumbled and went off to the back room. I waved at Buck in the car videotaping me and asked if he could hear me. He waved. Good, I thought, now to get Ralphy on tape.

  “Hey, I remember you.” He smiled as he came from the back room. “Any word on my acceptance to your club?” I took his arm and led him to the window, looking back at the display room, saying it was more private up here. He agreed as if we had some secret talk to do.

  I carefully looked out to Buck who waved again, and then back to Ralph. “OK, I have just a bit more interviewing to do with you for the review board.”

  He said shoot, he had nothing to hide.

  I took out a slip of paper I wrote on while I was awake in bed that morning and read, “First, are you seriously interested in joining our swingers group?”

  He said yes, enthusiastically.

  “OK, your wife isn’t interested in swinging?”

  “My wife is a prude. We have sex a lot only because I enjoy it. I could put a bag over her head and be just as happy.” That’s it, Ralph, hang yourself.

  “Explain your membership in the Dark Dungeon B&D club.”

  “I met this chick in a bar one night, and we got to talking about sex. She said she was into kinky things. She told me about this club in Pontiac and said she could get me in if I was interested. We drove out there, and it was fantastic. Best sex I have had in years.” He grinned.
>
  “I thought they weren’t into sex in bondage clubs?” I asked.

  “Well, once you’re in a room, anything goes, but they check on you first, make sure you aren’t a cop.”

  I thought Trapper’s friend on Pontiac PD might like to hear that.

  I continued, “OK, I said there is a membership fee. You have enough money to fund your pleasures?”

  “Hey, my wife is rich. I got funds coming out the ass.” He smiled.

  “If your wife is rich, why are you working here?” I had to ask that question.

  “My wife says I have to contribute to the marriage, otherwise I get nothing from her. I show I’m working at this stinking job, and she gives me my toys. This job is no killer, and I get to be away from her.” Well, that answered that.

  “Have you ever been married before this?”

  “I was married twice, tragic marriages, both wives are dead.”

  “Were either of those wives into swapping or kink?” I asked.

  “Hell, no, they were just as frigid as my present wife.”

  “Ralph, what is your goal if accepted as a member of our group?”

  “To have great sex with as many women as I can. Isn’t that the goal of every man?”

  I wanted to punch his lights out, but said, “Oh, yes, we all have that goal, don’t we?”

  “So you’re having regular sex at the bondage club. Doesn’t your wife wonder why her sex is cut back?” I asked.

  “I give it to her when she’s getting in a bitchy mood about it, doing my duty for the cause.” He smirked.

  “Do you plan on staying with your wife if you get into our club?”

  “Hell, yes, as long as the money is there, I’ll stay and slip it to her once in a while, keep her happy.” He grinned.

  I really wanted to punch this guy. “OK, I have enough to take back to the board. I’ll get back to you shortly.”

  He shook my hand, and I left. Once in the car, I said to Buck, “You got it all?”

  “I’m a regular Steven Spielberg. Elma’s going to love our movie.” He grinned.

  We went back to the office, and I took the tape out of the Handicam and put it in my fire-proof lock box.

  It was almost 11:30 a.m., and I was wondering what to do next about Weston’s case.

  I looked at Buck and said, “I’ll call Elma in a while and have her come in tomorrow.” Buck said he wanted to be there. I said he’d have front row seats and popcorn.

  *

  Chapter Eight

  Buck said if I didn’t need him, he had some running to do. I said to go enjoy himself and call before he came back to be sure I was in. He left, and I began reading the file on Weston that Benson gave me. I wondered if it was a copy of the police file or just the lawyer’s copy. As I was staring off into space, my cell phone rang. It was Trapper.

  “Hello, super cop,” I said.

  “Don’t try and butter me up. I’m still mad at you for telling Buck about my troubled youth.” I could tell he was smiling. “I did a bit of detective work. I do that, you know. It’s my job, and I even get paid for it. I talked to some people here who used to work in Roseville. Not a one of them had a good word to say about Lincoln. He has a rep for being a cowboy, doesn’t follow the rules all the time. If he can bend them, he will. One guy here said he thought Lincoln was into some shady activities, even hints of B&D. Sound familiar?” I could tell Trapper was eating it up.

  “Well, he could be the link then, but I can’t go in and accuse a police detective of murder and conspiracy,” I said.

  “Not if you want to stay alive, knowing he may be behind it,” Trapper warned.

  “I guess I’ll have to try and prove Weston’s innocence and let the police figure out who did it.”

  “That’s a plan. I’ll back you with anything you need that’s in my jurisdiction. Just keep me informed,” he said.

  I thought he was about to hang up and told him to hold on. “I have a question that I have wanted to ask you ever since the classmate murders. Every time you’re done with talking on the phone or leaving a room, you don’t say good-bye. It’s just a courtesy thing, but you don’t do it. Why?”

  He was quiet for a bit. I gave him the leeway. He hemmed a while then said, “I’ll tell you, but it goes no further than this. You tell Buck, and I’ll hunt you down and waste you. Understood?” I said I agreed. “I’m telling you this because it’s something very personal and sometimes it’s good to share with someone. I was young when my father died. I told you before that I was in police academy when it happened, and he was a cop, too. I lived with my parents when they moved to North Las Vegas while I was in academy. One day my dad and I had an argument, and I stormed out of the house saying good-bye rather harshly. Later that day he was killed on duty in a gang related shoot out. I regretted the way I said good-bye to him. It took me a long time to get over it. Then two years later, I was living with a wonderful woman, and one day we had a fight and I said I was leaving and stormed out, again yelling good-bye to her. She was killed in a head on collision that afternoon. That was the day I stopped saying good-bye. I didn’t want to lose another person I cared about.” He went silent and hung up.

  I was a bit stunned and reached for a tissue. I didn’t know what to do now. I thought about going up to the Midnight Bar and asking around about the mystery woman. I reached for the phone and dialed Elma. She came on, and I asked her if she could come in tomorrow morning. She asked if I had any good news. I said I would cover everything then. She was quiet and then said she’d be in. Now I felt even worse, hearing my friend tell me his story and having to burst a poor woman’s bubble about her cheating husband. I took refuge in the fact that I was exposing a cheat, and hopefully she would deal with it. I would recommend Benson as a divorce lawyer, if it came to that. But I still felt bad.

  Around 3 p.m., I was fidgeting with some files on my desk when the door opened and a gorgeous redhead stepped in and asked where the travel agency was. I told her, she thanked me and left. I thought about opening up my own travel agency. I sure as hell wasn’t getting the good looking ones.

  My cell phone rang and I looked. Just the phone number, didn’t know who it could be, so I answered it.

  “Mr. P.I., this is Dolly from the Midnight Bar. You told me to call if that woman showed up. Well, she’s here,” she said excitedly.

  I told her I was about 15 minutes away, and asked if she could stall her, talk to her, buy her drinks on me, anything to keep her there. I was on my way. I hung up and did my best to keep within the speed limit but was pushing it. I got to the bar and entered.

  Dolly saw me and motioned to a woman sitting at the back end of the bar by the wall. I went over and sat next to her, looked at her and nodded my head.

  “Go away, I’m not interested,” she said, glancing at me.

  “Yeah, well, neither am I,” I said. “But there are other people interested in you. It would be in your best of health to talk to me.”

  She was silent then started to get up. I grabbed her arm and sat her back down.

  “Hey, that hurts, I’ll call the cops!” she wailed.

  “Go ahead. I’d like that, so you can explain to them why you went to a motel with David Weston on the night his wife was butchered. Go ahead and call the cops, or do you want me to do it for you?” I threatened.

  She was deadly silent for a full minute, just staring at the bar top, and then spoke softly. “I had nothing to do with any murders.”

  “I didn’t say you did. I just want to know if you were with Weston that night.”

  “What did you mean it would be in my best health to talk?” she asked.

  “I think there is something going on. The police are possibly not interested in clearing Weston, and you could be someone they don’t want talking. Get what I mean? So far you don’t exist, but that could change. I can get you protection with Weston’s lawyer if you want to stay alive.” I knew I was spreading it on thick, but I had to convince this woman to come in and te
stify, so I lied a bit.

  “I have a family, I don’t want to get involved,” she said.

  “I understand. Just talk to the lawyer, and we can work things out for you. That’s all it takes.” I hoped I wouldn’t have to resort to unpleasant actions.

  She looked at me and said, “I read what happened to that woman. I’m sorry it happened. Yes, I was with Dave when she was killed. I was afraid to say anything. I didn’t want my husband or children to know I was having a fling. But I felt guilty about Dave being blamed. I came here to see if I was remembered. I guess I was.”

  “I’ll be sure you’re protected, my pledge, even though you don’t know me. I’ll deal with it. I’m also a licensed private investigator. I carry a big gun.”