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

by Bob Moats

  “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

  “Well, I’ve talked to a number of people who all led me around in circles in the last couple days. No one wants to say anything about the fetishes of others. I can understand that. I dress up in women’s clothes, and I don’t want people to know.” I grinned.

  “Don’t fuck with me. I’m just getting to like you. I can slip you a copy of the blackmail list. I’m not supposed to, but I think I can just set it somewhere that you can find it,” he said. “I don’t want this buried in Lincoln’s case files and not go anywhere. You can shake the trees and see what monkeys fall out.”

  “Is that a discriminatory remark against monkeys?” I joked.

  “I may be black and beautiful, but a racist I’m not.” Gregory laughed.

  “So what are you going to do now with blondie and the boob?” I asked.

  “We’ve definitely got them for blackmail and fraud. It should stick. They confessed in front of the assistant DA. We have their statements, and they gave up the clients being blackmailed so we can pursue the murder aspect. Or I should say, Lincoln will pursue. At least, I hope he does. It’s his case. Otherwise, I’m done with this till their trial.”

  I shook his hand and thanked him for letting me in on the interrogations. He said if it wasn’t for my snooping, they wouldn’t have gotten this far. An officer came up and handed Gregory a sheet of paper. He looked at it and set it on a desk.

  “Now don’t you pick up that paper. It’s only for official people to see.” He grinned then walked away. I looked around and picked up the paper, stuffed it in my pocket and walked out.

  I sat in my car and looked at the paper. I was shocked to see the quality of people who had fetishes that they wanted to play out. I drove to my office, and on the way called Trapper.

  “What do you want now?” he yelled. I laughed and told him I had the official list of perverts in and around Macomb County. He choked and said how long before I was in my office. I said about fifteen minutes. He said he’d meet me. I drove on and then into my parking lot. I saw Trapper’s car. He must have used his flashers and siren. I came into my lobby and found him sitting, talking to a great looking blond. He saw me and said he had to go but gave her his card in case she ever needed a cop. I just rolled my eyes and opened my office. I turned back to the lobby as he came in and smiled at the blond. She waved her fingers at me, and I closed the door.

  “You dog, it’s a good thing you’re not married. Did you get her number?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah, I got her number the minute I saw her. She’s a hooker,” he said.

  I stood looking at him. “What? A hooker? What’s she doing in my lobby?”

  “Jim, didn’t you know that there is a travel agency upstairs that hires hookers to go on cruises for lonely men?”

  I was stunned. “No, I didn’t know that. How do they get away with it?”

  “Well, it’s out of the country, so we can’t do much about it. Once they’re out in international waters they can do what they want, sex-wise, and collect money which is transferred from the ship to an off shore account. All sort of legal.” He grinned.

  “Damn, my dreams are shattered,” I said.

  “Well, at least you can enjoy the parade through your lobby.” He laughed.

  “Yeah, true. OK, I have a list of people blackmailed by the bad news lovers. If you can look it over, maybe we can decide who the really bad person in this scenario is,” I offered.

  He took the paper I was holding out and looked at it for a long while. He whistled and said, “This is hot. Does Lincoln have this yet?”

  “I’m sure he does by now unless Gregory is wasting time moving it around the system,” I said.

  “Well, there are three big name politicians here, one owner of a large chain of appliance stores and two local TV celebrities, news and weather. That would make for a great breaking news story.” He was grinning from ear to ear.

  I said I had read the list. “But who do you think may have killed Noreen?”

  “Not a single person on this list, but then again, I have seen cases where a priest committed murder.”

  I just stared at him. He continued, “OK, I exaggerated, but the point is these people have a lot more to lose if they commit murder than they would for just being spanked.”

  “I’d say the politicians would be my first choice for murderers. They’re all cut-throats,” I said.

  “You don’t like lawyers and politicians, we get that. But this list has no one on here that sends my radar into overdrive. Sorry, maybe one of them did do it, but I can’t tell,” he offered.

  “OK, out of the list, let’s prioritize top to bottom who may be the most likely suspects,” I said. “Oh, and we can rule out Ropiello. He’s come forward and done his duty to fight crime, and he’s a wuss from my contact with him.”

  “Well, the one to lose the most would be the judge, then the guy who owns the stores—bad publicity makes bad sales—then the city planner, although no one pays any attention to them. The TV people wouldn’t ruin their careers by killing someone, so they’re last,” he offered.

  “The TV people are both from Penny’s station. I’ll have to ask her about them.” I sat looking at the list.

  “You know it could be someone not even on this list.” I sighed. “Someone who Noreen had as a customer but who might have had a problem with her or she might have wanted more from him. Weston did say she was going to hit people up for more money. I wish we knew where her list was.”

  “We have to figure Lincoln in on this, too. How is he connected to any of these people, or was he a customer, too, and afraid of exposure?” Trapper wondered.

  “If I were Eve Dallas, I’d run this by the computer for probabilities.” Trapper looked at me funny. “Sorry, you had to be there,” I said.

  “Sometimes I wonder about you.” He smirked. “Well, you just have to go bother people and see who doesn’t like it the most. Just don’t get yourself hacked up and decapitated.”

  “That’s another thing, the way Noreen was killed. Hacked by what they think was a machete. Who carries a machete around with them nowadays?” I asked.

  “I saw the appliance guy hacking prices on one of his TV ads. He used a machete,” Trapper said.

  “Yeah, I remember that one, too. I think I’m safe in starting with him.” I grinned. “Want to go with me?”

  “Nah, I hate his commercials, so I don’t really want to meet the guy. Besides, my Captain is starting to wonder why my work log is so lopsided with others doing all the work. I got to put in some effort to look busy. I’ll pass.” He smiled and got up, saluted me and headed out the door.

  I sat for a bit then looked up the corporate headquarters for Doan Appliances and found the address was in Chesterfield Township, Buck’s backyard. I was beginning to wonder what happened to Buck. He hadn’t called in for over a day and a half or even popped in for a visit. I was worrying a bit. I picked up my phone to call just as the door opened and Buck strolled in.

  “Damn, I was just calling you. I was wondering what happened to you,” I said. “You’ve been gone for over a day.”

  “I got lucky. Remember that fox in the hallway the other day?” I nodded. He continued, “Well, she followed me out of the building when I left, and we started talking by my car. She was asking me about myself, and then we started talking about cars, and I told her about my classic cars, and she said she wanted to see mine. So she followed me to my place, and I showed her. She stayed till this morning. What a woman.”

  “Buck, she’s a hooker,” I said quietly.

  He looked at me and then smiled. “She never charged me, so she couldn’t have been a hooker.”

  “Well, Trapper told me the travel agency upstairs is a front for a floating cat house. They offer cruises to lonely men with all these gorgeous women, the ones who come through here. That fox was probably one, and I would watch your cars so they don’t disappear,” I warned.

  He stood and sa
id he had to go take care of something then went out the door quickly. I had to suppress a laugh. I hoped she didn’t have robbery on her mind.

  *

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I drove up Gratiot towards Chesterfield Township and, after checking my Palm map program, I found Doan Appliance’s headquarters and went into the parking lot. I went in the building and stopped at the desk in the lobby. The girl asked me my purpose for being there, and I said I wanted to see Mr. Doan. She asked if I had an appointment. I said no, but if she would call Mr. Doan and mention the name Noreen Black, I was sure he’d want to see me. She got on the phone and called, stating my request, then hung up. She said Mr. Doan would be with me shortly.

  I hardly turned to sit down when a skinny young man came out from a side door and asked my name. I told him. He said to follow him, and we went through a long series of hallways. The young man was talking into a device sticking out of his ear. I heard him mention my name, and then we came to a big double walnut door and went in.

  Doan was sitting behind a huge, fancy desk made of expensive looking wood trimmed with shiny metal. Behind him the entire wall was one gigantic window looking out on a well-managed flower garden and woods. He was sitting back in his chair and had a look of arrogance on his face.

  “Mr. Richards, sit, please.” I did. He continued, “I instructed my assistant here to call the police in five minutes unless I stop him. I will not tolerate any more blackmail from your people. This will cease now, and I will take my medicine for my mistakes, but you will be in prison.” He smiled like he had won a round.

  “Mr. Doan, the people involved in your blackmail are already in jail. I saw to that yesterday. I’m not here to blackmail you. I’m a private investigator hired by Noreen Black’s husband to find her killer. You can call off your poodle now,” I said, looking at the skinny young assistant.

  Doan stopped smiling, was quiet for a moment, then nodded to the assistant and told him to leave us alone. He did.

  “Mr. Doan, I’m here to ask you a few questions, that’s all. I don’t care one way or another what you do in your private time. I’m looking for a murderer. You wouldn’t happen to be that murderer, would you?”

  He studied me for a bit then smiled. “You’re direct, Mr. Richards, but no, I’m not the murderer. I, of course, wouldn’t admit it even if I was.

  Doan wasn’t at all like the character he portrayed in his commercials, that annoying, loud mouthed buffoon doing his best to draw you into his stores with promises of cheap prices. He was cool and calm, very calculating in his demeanor.

  “I didn’t expect you to confess, Mr. Doan, but where were you on the night Ms. Black was murdered?” I asked.

  “Since you are not an actual police officer, I really don’t have to answer your questions, now do I?” His smile widened, and I could see he had a nice set of teeth, probably paid for by many washer sales.

  “Well, Mr. Doan, you don’t have to, but if I can narrow down the list of suspects quickly, then you don’t have to go through the pain of having to talk to the real police and possibly get your name in the papers. So you can go that route or help me.” I gave him my big smile back.

  His eyes narrowed, and his smile wavered. “All right, Mr. Richards, I was with my wife at a party thrown by the Mayor of Warren to celebrate business owners in his city. My store there does the best over all the other stores. I was with about a hundred other business owners, and I even gave a little speech about the business climate in Warren. Does that answer your question?”

  “Quite well enough. I’ll cross you off my list. Hated to bother you, but it’s a messy business. Oh, one more thing, whatever happened to that machete you used in one of your commercials to hack at prices?” I asked.

  His face totally dropped, and his eyes glazed, then he said calmly, “I don’t know, it was a prop from the commercial filmers. They probably have it.”

  “Strange thing, it was believed a machete was used to kill Noreen. Did you hear about that?” I pushed.

  “No, I heard she was butchered, but not how it was committed. Are you done, Mr. Richards?” he said quietly.

  “For now, Mr. Doan. Oh, and a very big, ugly police detective by the name of Lincoln, as in honest Abe, probably will be stopping by to talk, too. Give him my regards.” I stood and said, “I think I can find my way out.” I left him looking annoyed.

  I didn’t like the man. He was cocky and arrogant. I actually liked his TV persona better. But I saw a bit of something in his eyes when I mentioned the machete. Maybe nothing, but I was going to move him up the list. I got to the lobby and saw his assistant.

  “Excuse me. I really like the Doan Appliance commercials. Who creates those?” I asked.

  He smiled and said, “My cousin Harvey. He has a company that does the commercials. It’s Marco Productions.”

  I thanked him and said they were great. I lied. He had one of those nametags on. It said Ken Reed. I took note, went to my car and drove out.

  I went by Buck’s place since it was just up the road and pulled in the long drive. I remembered the last time I was there, back when we were trying to hide Penny from the killers of the cheerleaders. It took me back seeing the place. I saw a truck in front of Buck’s van and pulled up next to it. The signage on the truck door said “Mavis Security and Alarms.” I had to laugh. Buck saw me as he stood in front of his garage and came over as I got out of my car.

  “What’s happening, Buck?” I knew, but asked.

  “I’m protecting my investment. I got back here after I talked to you and saw a car sitting across the street looking at my property. They took off as I pulled up and got out to go see what the hell they were doing. You may have been right about that hooker, Jimmy.” He looked crushed, like she used him.

  “Don’t take it personal, Buck. They do this crap every day to people just like you. Good thing you’re preparing for it.”

  He smiled and handed me a piece of paper. It had a license plate number on it. “I guess hanging around a P.I. must be rubbing off on me. I got his plates.” He looked happy now.

  “I’ll give this to Trapper and see what comes up. Just may be part of a car theft ring. Better yet, you call him and explain what is going on and ask. It might start good relations with the two of you.”

  He didn’t say anything, but then smiled and said he’d do just that.

  The alarm installer called to Buck with a question and he went off to answer it. I stood looking at the yard where we had our party with the motorcycle club the night before Penny was kidnapped. Buck came back to me, and I told him about Doan and what I found out. I said I was going to check out his commercial makers and check a detail that might help my case. Buck said he’d join up with me later and went back to the installer.

  I sat in my car and looked up the address for Marco Productions in the phone book I keep in the car. I drove out, headed to Sterling Heights, and found the building that housed Marco. I pulled in and went up to the entrance but found a note saying to use the side door. I went around to where the arrow led me and into the building. I came into a big hangar- like room where they were filming a commercial for some awning company. One man spotted me and came over.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  “Yes, is Harvey in?” I replied.

  “I’m Harvey. What can I do for you?”

  “I got your name from your cousin Ken Reed. He said you film the Doan commercials.”

  “Yes, we do, our biggest account.”

  “Can we talk somewhere private?” I asked.

  He led me to a small conference room and asked me to sit.

  “I’m a private investigator, and I’m checking on a few things in regard to a case I’m working on. I was wondering if you remember the commercial you created with Doan hacking prices with a machete.”

  “Oh, yeah, Doan loved that one. I think he got a kick out of swinging the thing. He was hacking at anything that wasn’t moving. I was a little worried he might hurt someone
with it. The damn thing was sharp.”

  “Do you still have that prop?”

  “As a matter of fact, we don’t. When the commercial was finished, Doan wanted to keep the thing. Hey, after he spent thousands of dollars on the commercial, he could keep anything he wanted. So Doan has the machete.”

  *

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  I said that was all I needed to know and thanked him for his time. He led me to the locked front door that led to my car. I sat in my car for a bit and then chuckled to myself. I pictured Doan swinging that machete around hacking at prices flying at him and screaming, “I’m slashing high prices so you can save big at Doan Appliances!” Guess it wasn’t the only thing he was slashing. I needed to find the machete, but where would it be? I was sure he would have disposed of it, so it could be in any number of garbage dumps or buried in a backyard. I thought about his fancy flower garden out back of his building and wondered if maybe he buried it there. I knew he had a thing for the weapon. Maybe he put it someplace nearby.