Avarice or Innocence (JOHN LOGAN FILES Book 1)

by Marshall Huffman

  “Do you happen to know where Terry is?” he asked Martha a few minutes later.

  “I believe he went to the archive storage building,” she said.

  “Okay, let me know when he gets back. I need to go over a few things with him. In fact I think I’ll go to lunch,” he announced.

  “Why Mr. Ashton, you never go to lunch,” she said shocked.

  “I’ve never had a day quite like today before,” he said gathering his raincoat and umbrella.

  He went to the rented car and headed out of the lot. He had no idea where to go for lunch. He just drove and soon found an interesting looking restaurant and parked.

  He ate a leisurely lunch and got ready to pay when he noticed a row of fine men’s clothing stores. He decided that he was in absolutely no hurry so he would do some window shopping. It would be good for his spirits.

  He strolled along the storefronts and went into a few of the shops and browsed around. He was surprised when he looked at his watch. It had been close to two hours since he left. It took him several minutes to even retrace his steps and locate his car.

  When he got back to DigitCom Terry was just getting back from the archive building.

  “Hey guy,” he said to Terry, stepping to his office. Terry had the phone in his hand and immediately hung up.

  “What’s up?” he asked quickly.

  “I was going to see if you wanted to go to lunch earlier but you were off doing something. We need to start working on winding down our involvement and making plans for the future,” Jim said.

  “Not now. I don’t intend to do much in the way of winding down with DigitCom and I have no immediate plans for the future,” Terry said.

  “Terry, we want to go out of this in the right way. I mean, professionally,” Jim insisted.

  “I could care less how we go out as long as I’m out,” Terry told him.

  “I see. Your reputation doesn’t matter anymore?” Jim chided him.

  “Not in the least. I just want to end this and move on with my life,” Terry replied.

  “With Carla of course,” Jim threw in.

  Terry did not bother to respond. “Anything else?” he finally said.

  “No, I guess not. I’ll make my own plans. I do care about my reputation. It will still be with me longer after the money is gone,” Jim said, walking out the door.

  “Probably longer,” Terry shot back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Hi. This is quite a surprise. I didn’t expect anyone to meet me here,” Linda said as she stood by the baggage conveyor.

  “Well after such an odyssey I thought it would be nice,” he said.

  “It is indeed, I just didn’t expect it. I’m glad you came actually. I took the cab in since I was going to be gone so long. The parking would have cost a fortune,” Linda said, reaching for a bag.

  “Here, let me get that,” he said pulling the bag off the conveyor belt, “any others?”

  “That one,” she said pointing to a large folding suit bag. He got that one as well and they headed to the parking lot.

  “Is this your car?” she asked.

  “Well it’s a long story. We had our cars impounded and so I have had to drive this in the meantime,” he told her.

  “Sure isn’t as fancy,” she replied.

  “Tell me about it. I take it the trip was successful?” he asked.

  “Yes. I got all of the chips that have been causing the anomalies. I can’t wait to get them back and check them out. I assume you want me to do it personally?” she asked.

  “Definitely. No one else is to touch them until you have personally looked at them,” he assured her. “Where are they?” he asked casually.

  “Right here,” she said, patting her shoulder bag.

  “Excellent,” he said.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” she shouted, but it was far too late.

  ****

  “What have you got?” the detective asked the rookie police officer.

  “A female, approximately five feet nine inches, one hundred and eighteen pounds, blue eyes. No distinguishing marks unless you count the large bullet hole in the back of her head,” the cop said.

  “Cute. Any ID?”

  “Nope. We printed her. She will be on her way to the morgue soon,” he said as the ambulance was unloading the stretcher.

  Logan pulled back the cover over her face, or what was left of it. A fairly large bore gun and at close range. There was no powder burn on her skin but it was very dark around the entry wound.

  ****

  “Anything of interest from the crime scene yet?”

  “We recovered the slug. She was shot here in the woods. Looks like she was lying down when the perp shot her. The slug is pretty beat up. We sent it to ballistics,” he said.

  “Good work. Who is the primary on this?”

  “My partner, Dan Silver,” the rookie told him.

  The detective winced. Dandy Man. Dapper Dan and a lot of less complimentary names could be attached to Silver. He was one of the least popular officers in the entire area, almost universally hated across precinct lines. Logan was rubbing his temples when he heard Silver’s voice.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Detective Logan. Just slummin’ with the common men in blue?” he said in his annoying voice that made you want to choke him on sight. He had an arrogant smirk that always seemed to be on his face.

  “Just doing my job,” the detective said, resigning himself to useless banter.

  “No need detective. We have been doing it for you,” he smirked.

  “I can always count on you Silver,” he said, trying not to get caught up in the almost inevitable clashing of words.

  “Wish I could say the same for you guys,” he quipped back.

  “Have you got this solved for me so I can go home now?” Logan said, starting to rise to the occasion.

  “If you don’t trample all over the crime scene like usual,” Silver said.

  The trouble with him was that he actually believed his own PR. He would never get off the streets and he was too arrogant to figure out why. It was so simple. No one liked him, end of story, and he just didn’t get it.

  “Other than the slug, you recover anything else?”

  “You mean besides the body,” he smirked. Logan didn’t bother to answer. He just stood there rubbing his temples.

  “We may have some tire tracks,” the rookie added.

  “A cast has been ordered?” Logan asked.

  “Of course,” Silver said turning to yell at someone for picking up something off the ground.

  “Could I get a copy of your report as soon as possible?” Logan said, hesitating to ask.

  “I’ll have it hand delivered to Inspector Holmes,” Silver said and headed off to bother someone else.

  “Some guy isn’t he?” the rookie said, obviously far more impressed than anyone else.

  “Don’t hitch your wagon to Dapper Dan son, unless you want to walk a beat for the rest of your career,” Logan said and headed back to the car.

  Dan Silver of all people. This was not shaping up to be a good day. He headed back to the precinct and filled out his report. He was still cross checking the information he had gotten from DigitCom when the body of a ‘Jane Doe’ had been found by two officers. He should have asked before heading out there, maybe he could have gotten Winston to go instead.

  The body had seemed vaguely familiar to him but he couldn’t place where he had seen her. Wilson came in a few minutes later and Logan filled him in on what he had just been doing.

  “Dandy Dan. Gosh you’re so lucky. Sorry I missed the call,” he kidded Logan.

  John was sorry too, but he wasn’t kidding. They went over what they had found from their credit card checks.

  “Look at this,” Winston said showing Logan a piece of computer printout paper with several circles on it.

  “It’s for a motel on the edge of town. The La Strada. It’s kind of out of the way and is often used by cou
ples who need privacy,” Winston added.

  “I know the place. Front and back door on each room,” Logan said.

  “Looks like our boy Ashton has been visiting the place fairly regularly for the past six or seven months,” he said, pointing to the circled items on the page.

  “Doesn’t it seem strange that he would charge them? I mean how discrete is that?” Logan said shaking his head.

  “Whoever said lust had discretion?” Winston said.

  “Still. Seems strange to me.”

  “You like this guy or something? If it was Larkins you would be jumping up and down,” Winston said.

  “No I wouldn’t. I just don’t see someone like him being so careless,” Logan said in defense.

  “Have it your own way. I’m going out there and see what I can find,” he said, “You want to tag along? You might learn something about police work.”

  “You sound like Silver,” Logan said.

  “Ouch,” Winston said, doubling over and holding his stomach, “Just below the belt.”

  “You deserved it,” Logan said and picked up the phone to check the progress on ‘Jane Doe.’ He was told an autopsy was scheduled in thirty minutes. He decided to be present. He always hated this part of the job but there was something nagging him about this girl. He arrived as her body was being wheeled into the room.

  “The good detective arrivith,” the doctor said, smiling behind his mask.

  “Gonna help cut?” his equally happy-go-lucky assistant added.

  “I’ll pass this time,” he said.

  He guessed you would need a good sense of humor to do what these people did for a living.

  Doctor Myler gave the usual opening statement into the microphone and then the awful job of dissecting the body of a once attractive young lady began.

  “I think we are going to find that she was unconscious when she was shot. A cloth of some sort covered her face as well. I just pulled fibers out of the wound,” the pathologist explained.

  “Unconscious? Knocked out?”

  “Drugged. Toxicology will tell us what kind,” he said, reaching into the chest cavity. It made a gushing sound and Logan bit his lip.

  “Hey. She was in the early stages of breast cancer. I wonder if she knew it?” the ME speculated.

  “Anything else I don’t need to know?” Logan said.

  He had about had all of this he could take at one sitting.

  “We will do a few other tests but I think that’s the bulk of it. Died of a single gunshot wound posteroanterio. The bullet entered along the transverse fissure and exited the frontal bone. Pretty cut and dried,” the doctor said.

  “Call me if anything else comes up. Fibers will be sent to the lab right?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll let you know the drug type as soon as toxicology does a workup.”

  “Thanks,” Logan said, turning to leave.

  “Oh one more thing. She just came from the airport,” the doctor said.

  “You can tell that from cutting her open?” Logan asked with an amazed look on his face.

  “No. From the baggage claim ticket I found in her pocket,” he said and broke out laughing.

  His assistant must have found it very amusing as well.

  “That’s the second cute thing that has been said to me today. Thanks doc,” he said waving as he strolled off.

  Strange people work down here, he thought to himself. They were still chuckling when the door closed behind him. In reality, Logan was pretty fond of the ME. They were becoming pretty good friends.

  Logan was working on another case when he got a call from the pathologist.

  “Got a name for you. Report’s on the way up,” he was told.

  A few minutes later the sealed envelope was put on his desk. He opened it and saw the name, Linda Taylor, written in the doctor’s unique hand style. He quickly grabbed his notebook and started looking up names. He couldn’t find it at first but then he located a copy of the employee list and there it was.

  He scanned the report further and found the gunshot wound was made by a single round from a 9mm. He quickly called down to ballistics, “Do you still have the guns from Ashton and Larkins?”

  “I need the case ID number,” the snotty voice on the other end said.

  “Case 11232a, 11232b and 11233.”

  “Just a second. Yeah. Here you go. 11232a, 357 Colt Python. Clean, no matches, specimen saved. Number 11232b, Smith & Wesson 44 Magnum. Slight bulge in barrel probably from firing wrong ammunition or load was too hot. Clean, no matches, specimen on file. Case 11233, 9mm. Beretta, clean, no matches, specimen on file,” the technician said.

  “Have you checked the 9mm. against the round from the Jane Doe this morning?” Logan asked.

  “Working on it right now,” he said.

  “Do you still have the weapons?”

  “No. They were returned last week to the owners,” he was told.

  “Can you rush the ballistic check? Check it against the Beretta,” he said.

  “Hang on. I’ll give it a quick look see,” he said. A few minutes later he came on the phone, “I would say we have a winner.”

  “You’re sure?” Logan asked.

  “Ninety percent or better,” the technician said.

  “Thanks. Send your report up as soon as you can. I need to jump on this right away,” he said.

  “It will be there in a flash. I’ll fax it right now.”

  Logan gathered up his papers and went to see the Captain. He gave him a quick rundown.

  “Go get him. Get a warrant to search his house and one for DigitCom as well. I want that gun brought back here.”

  “You know Captain, this is all far too easy. Something doesn’t smell right here,” Logan said.

  “Look, I know how you operate Logan. You like them complicated. You enjoy the challenge. Well sometimes it’s just what it seems to be, now go get this guy and let’s let the court handle it. I’ll go talk to the DA’s office myself,” the captain said.

  Within an hour the Captain was at his desk with the necessary warrants and the DA’s blessing. Logan waited for Winston to get back before heading to DigitCom.

  “You tell the FBI yet?” Winston asked while they were driving along.

  “Nope. They wouldn’t tell us squat. I thought I would return the favor,” Logan said.

  Logan filled him in on everything that had happened in the past two hours. When he finished they rode in silence for several minutes as they made their way through the rush hour traffic.

  Finally Logan could stand it no longer and said, “Well? Aren’t you going to say you told me so?”

  Winston didn’t say anything for a second and then leaned over close to Logan’s ear and said, “Moooooooo.”

  Logan just shook his head. They arrived at DigitCom just as most of the staff was leaving for the evening. They went directly to the Executive offices and arrived just as Martha was leaving.

  “Detective Logan. What brings you here?” she asked.

  “Oh nothing much. We just have a quick matter to clear up. Is Ashton still here?”

  “He is in his office. I’ll tell him you’re here,” she said.

  “Please don’t bother. We know the way,” Logan said, heading for the door. He didn’t bother to knock but just walked in.

  “Detective,” Jim said standing up from behind his desk the telephone still in his hand.

  “Mr. Ashton. Do you know a Linda Taylor?”

  “I certainly do. I was just trying to call her house,” he said.

  “Mr. Ashton, you are under arrest for the murder of Linda Taylor,” he stepping quickly over to Jim.

  Ashton just stood there with his mouth open. The phone slipped from his hand. Logan was placing the handcuffs on his wrists while Winston was reading him his rights.

  He was obviously shocked by this latest development. It couldn’t get much worse than this he was thinking as they led him past the stunned employees.

  Terry was just coming out
of his office and demanded to know what was going on. They quickly brushed him aside and placed Ashton in the car. The two FBI agents in the car were frantically calling headquarters for instructions. Logan waved to them as they drove by.

  Ashton sat at the metal table with his wrist attached by the handcuffs to a ring on the table. The interview room's walls were dark green and somber. No one had said a thing to him since he had been seated there. A uniformed officer sat near the door on a metal stool. He turned and made a face at the one-way mirror but got no response.

  “Real nice. Now, just what is it you don’t get?” the Captain was saying to Logan in the small room behind the mirror.

  “He knew we tested his gun. Do you think he would be stupid enough to use it to commit a murder? The guy isn’t retarded you know,” Logan said.

  “It was his gun. You said so. He disappeared for over two hours today. This Linda Taylor,” he said looking down at the name on the file, “Came into the airport roughly during that time. He knew she was going on the trip. He is the one who sent her. Sorry Logan but it sticks. If you don’t want to handle this I’ll assign it to Winston,” the Captain said, tossing the file on the table.

  Logan gathered up the file and stormed out of the room and into where Ashton was sitting. He dismissed the guard.

  “Well chump, I can’t wait to hear what you have to say. Did you send for your lawyer yet?” Logan asked.

  “Yes. I don’t think I should say much until he gets here,” Ashton said, looking almost dazed.

  “Good move. Ashton, I just can’t figure you out. I haven’t been able to since we first met. First your wife, then Carla Larkins, and now Linda Taylor,” Logan said shaking his head.

  “It even looks bad to me,” Ashton agreed. “Look Detective, you said it yourself, do I look stupid? I wouldn’t hurt anyone. Linda was doing work for me. She was the only one who could help me find out about our sabotage at DigitCom. I can’t believe she is dead. You said she was shot. With my gun?” he asked.

  “Ballistics says it’s a ninety percent match. Where is your gun?”

  “At the house. I put it in the bedroom closet. On the top shelf,” he told him.