DALLAS PHILANTHROPIST KILLED
IN FIERY CRASH
Melba Thorn, a wealthy Dallas resident, known for her generosity and love for the arts and education, died Monday in a fiery automobile crash on Highway 24 near Wilkerson Pass, Colorado. Mrs. Thorn, who had been vacationing in Colorado Springs at the renowned Winchester Hotel and Resort with her family, apparently was returning from a visit to the University of Colorado at Boulder when the 1977 Cadillac she was driving mysteriously spun out of control, plummeted off a cliff and then exploded into a fiery inferno. Sheriff Dick Barnett, from the nearby Florrisant, Colorado, indicated the victim's body was burnt beyond recognition.
Mrs. Thorn was the widow of the late real estate baron, Howard Thorn, who reportedly owned major downtown buildings in Dallas, Tyler, Ft. Worth and Amarillo. She was born in London, England in 1926 and immigrated to the United States with her father, an unemployed tailor, when she was only three. She attended the University of Texas from 1942-46 where she met and married Howard Thorn. She is survived by her son, Robert Thorn, and daughter, Jane Thorn Brown. Funeral services will be held Thursday in Dallas.
Mrs. Thorn was most known for her support of Texas American University and the Dallas Fine Arts Institute. The Dean of Southern Methodist University, when asked about his reaction to Mrs. Thorn's untimely death, said, "She was a wonderful woman, a great friend of the University and she will be sorely missed."
It occurred to me that the incineration of Melba's body was very unusual and convenient. If Melba was alive I wondered who really died in that crash. I needed to find out all about Melba Thorn, her friends, her enemies and who stood to gain by the appearance of her death. Perhaps if I went to SMU I would get some answers. I left the library and drove to Highland Park where the University was situated. On the way I devised a story to explain why I was interested in Mrs. Thorn. The Dean's office was the logical place to start since he had been quoted in the newspaper. When I walked in, a well-dressed middle age receptionist greeted me. Luckily he was in and I was able to see him.
"Can I help you?" Dean Pope asked.
"Yes sir, I'm Stan Turner and I wondered if I could ask you some questions about Melba Thorn."
"Melba Thorn? Why would you be asking questions about her?"
"I have a client that is thinking about setting up a scholarship fund to honor her. He wanted me to write a short story about her life to put in the introductory materials that would be sent to applicants for the scholarship," I replied.
"How nice. Who is your client?"
"Well, he wants his participation to be anonymous so that the media will focus on Melba Thorn rather than him since the purpose of the program is to honor her.
"I see. Well, what do you want to know?"
"When did Melba first start supporting the University?" I said.
"Shortly after her husband's death. You probably know the only thing Howard Thorn knew how to do was make money. He never gave any money away after he'd earned it," Dean Pope said.
"Really?"
"Did you know her personally?"
"Sure, she spent a lot of time here at the University. She was very much involved in the programs she supported financially. She loved the students and they loved her. Some of the students affectionately called her Grandma Thorn."
"It must have been a great tragedy when she died," I said.
"It was devastating," he said. "Not only did we lose a great friend and wonderful woman, but the financial loss to the University was overwhelming."
"Didn't the heirs pick up where Melba left off?"
"No, I'm afraid Robert Thorn took after his father."
"What about Jane?"
"I think if Jane controlled the fortune she'd be a lot different. Regretfully, Robert and Jane’s husband, Taylor Brown pretty much control what goes on."
"That's too bad. You'd think in deference to their mother they would be a little more generous," I said.
"That would make sense," Dean Pope replied.
"Didn't you think the accident was a little strange?"
Pope’s stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know, it just seems a little strange to me that this rich old lady is up in Colorado with her family and runs off to Colorado Springs by herself. Why didn't someone go with her. What happened to her chauffeur?”
"You know, you are right. It didn't make much sense. As a matter of fact, I called up to the Sheriff to ask him about it."
"What did he say?"
"He said he did a thorough investigation and found nothing to make him think it was anything but an accident. Apparently all the members of the family were horseback riding fifty miles away when the accident occurred."
"Does anyone know why she went off that day alone?" I said.
"Apparently they thought her chauffeur was driving her to the university but apparently he was getting the limo fixed. Mrs. Thorn decided to take her son's rent car and drive alone."
"What do you think of that scenario?" I asked.
"That's really strange because I know Melba didn't like to drive. She was always driven by her chauffeur and I can't imagine her driving on a treacherous mountain road all alone."
"Tell me about Jane's husband," I said.
"Taylor Brown? He runs a string of nursing homes around the state. That's about all I know about him"
"He doesn't happen to have one in Amarillo does he?"
"I don't know."
It was nearly five so after talking to Dean Pope I went straight home anxious to tell Rebekah what I had found out. She was in the laundry room washing clothes when I arrived.
"Hi Babe," I said.
"Wow! Did my watch stop?" she said.
"No, I came straight home to tell you what I found out about Melba Thorn."
"Oh, what?"
"Melba died in a single car wreck on a mountain road in Colorado, her body was incinerated while her family was fifty miles away horseback riding and her chauffeur was getting her limo fixed."
"That's pretty bizarre," Rebekah said.
"Yeah, particularly since she didn't like to drive and usually was driven every place she went."
"So why would she go out alone in the mountains?" Rebekah asked.
"Nobody seems to know or care," I said. "And get this. Melba's daughter is married to a man named Taylor Brown who happens to own nursing homes all over the state."
"You don't think Melba is being held hostage in one of those nursing homes do you?" Rebekah said.
"That idea occurred to me. I think tomorrow I'm going to call the Department of Health and find out if Mr. Brown owns a nursing home in Amarillo."
While Rebekah and I were talking, Peter came running around the corner.
"Mom, Reggie stole my fire truck!" he said before spotting me. "Daddy, you're home!"
"Yeah, come here big boy," I said. Peter ran over and raised his hands to be picked up. I pulled him up and held him in my arms. "Let's go see if I can rescue your truck."
"Okay, Reggie's mean."
We walked down the hall and entered into Reggie's room. He had gathered a fleet of trucks that would have made any Teamster proud.
"Wow, where did you get all those trucks?" I said.
"Hi Dad. How do you like my convoy?" Reggie replied.
"Pretty cool. . . . You didn't happen to see a stray fire truck did you?"
"Yeah, he joined the convoy in LA," Reggie said. "Well how about if Peter takes her in for mechanical repair in Frisco."
"Dad I need all these trucks . . . especially a fire truck in case there's a crash on Highway 121."
"If there's a crash you can get on your CB and call Peter, he'll be happy to respond," I said.
"Okay," Reggie said and then tossed the truck into the middle of the room.
I put Peter down, he picked up the fire truck, climbed up on the top bunk and began to play with it.
"Tell us a story, daddy," Peter said.
"A story?" I replied.
"Oh come on, you've heard it a dozen times," I said.
"Well tell us a new story then," Peter said.
"Hmm. . . . let me think . . . okay," I said.
I climbed up onto the top bunk and laid down next to Peter. Reggie jumped on the bottom bunk and laid back to listen to the story. Peter wandered in and sat down in the middle of the room.
"Okay, once upon a time I was with my boy scout troop camping near Mt. Shasta in California. We had gotten up early to take a hike and were approaching a small creek. When we got to the creek we all started looking for places to cross without getting wet. I spotted a big log that was laying across the entire creek so I started to cross it. Suddenly I looked down and saw that I was about to step on a water moccasin."
"Ahh!" Peter yelled.
I turned quickly to tickle him and suddenly the bunk collapsed. Peter and I looked at each other in shock. Then I realized we were lying on top of Reggie. I bolted off the bed and tried to pull up the mattress but Peter was still on it. "Peter, get off. Reggie is under there."
Peter began to laugh hysterically at his brother’s plight. Reluctantly he crawled off the bed.
"Reggie! You okay?" Rebekah came running in the room.
"What happened?" She screamed.
Reggie climbed out from underneath the mattress looking rather confused.
"You okay, son?" I asked.
"Sure Dad. I'm fine. What happened?"
"Oh my God! Are you sure you're okay Reggie?" Rebekah moaned.
"I guess the bolts were loose on the supports," I said.
"Stan you had no business being up there!" Rebekah yelled. "You're just like a little kid sometimes!"
"Okay, I'm sorry, Reggie's fine. . . . Relax."
"Hey Dad," Reggie said. "Did the water moccasin bite you?"
"No, it turned out he had just swallowed a trout so he was harmless," I replied.
"Whew! That was lucky," Reggie said.
Rebekah continued to scowl at me for a minute and then said, "Okay, dinner is ready, come on before your Dad maims one of you," Rebekah said.
The next day I had an early appointment with Pete Hall. I didn't know exactly what we were going to talk about, but I was sure I could allay his fears a day or two until Kurt could get back. Pete was a short, red faced man and very extroverted. When the door opened I jumped up to greet him. After getting coffee we sat down.
"Cynthia said you had some questions that you needed to get answered right away," I said.
"Yes, you know I've known Kurt for a long time," Pete said. "He used to date my daughter, Ruth."
"I didn't know that."
"Yeah, he set her up in the dry cleaning business, Hollywood Cleaners. You know, down on Turtle Creek."
"Oh yeah, I've gone by it."
"Kurt's a great guy and he's always been good to me and Ruth but sometimes he gets in over his head in some of these deals."
"How do you mean?" I said.
"Well, Kurt's pretty shrewd but every once in a while he deals with people smarter than he is . . . like Mohammed Bhangi."
"Who is he?"
"He's a guy from Beverly Hills that Kurt bought some apartments from last year. After the deal was made it turned out Mohammed had a partner he neglected to tell Kurt about. Mohammed disappeared and his partner sued Kurt."
"Gee. I didn't hear about any lawsuits."
"Anyway, I know that wasn't necessarily Kurt's fault but I want to be sure this Panhandle Building deal is clean."
"You don't have to worry about that, you guys are going to get a title policy when the deal is closed."
"I know that Stan, but I just want you to make double sure that everything is okay with this deal. I'm investing all of my retirement money and I can't afford to lose it."
"Well I've never seen the Panhandle Building nor do I know anything about it as an investment. You guys have to make your own decision as to whether it's a good deal or not. I'll make sure you own it and all the legal work is done properly. After that it's up to Kurt to rehab the building and then sell it for a big profit. You know better than I do that Kurt's awfully good at flipping property."
"Well. just keep your eyes open Stan. Protect me, okay. I really trust you."
"I'll have Kurt call you when he returns so he can discuss the specifics of the deal with you in more depth," I said.
"No, that's all right . . . I trust you. See you later."
I was upset by the meeting with Pete. It was like everything I said to him was meaningless. He obviously didn't come to ask me any questions or listen to anything I had to say. He simply wanted to tell me that he expected me to protect him. But that wasn't my job. I represented Kurt and I told him and the other investors that, but they didn't listen. If anything went wrong, they were going to blame it on me.
I pondered what I could do to check out the investment to see if there were any holes in it. Perhaps I could convince Kurt to let my friend, Ron Johnson, close the deal at Big D Title Company. That way I would have much better control over the entire transaction. There really wasn't much else I could do.
On Thursday I went to work early so I could stop by St. Michael's Catholic Church to go to confession. I didn't tell Rebekah I was going but I had been feeling guilty all week about my encounter with Sheila earlier in the week and needed to talk to someone about it. There were two priest receiving confessions. I choose Father Henry as he seemed the wiser of the two priests that served our parish. I waited for my turn and then entered the confessional.
"Forgive me father for I have sinned. It has been a year . . . well, maybe two years since my last confession."
"What brings you to seek the Lord's forgiveness after such a long time?" Father Henry asked.
"I've coveted another man's wife and nearly committed adultery?" I said.
"But you didn't?"
"No, but I have in my mind. I dream about making love to her almost every night."
"You must forget about her. The mind is strong but the body is weak. Stay away from her. Cleanse your thoughts of her."
"But, she's the wife of one of my best clients and I'm bound to see her again. What's worse, the way she looks at me, I think she wants to make love with me too."
"Then tell your client you cannot work for him anymore—better to lose a client than a wife."
"But Father, you don't understand. I'm just starting out and I only have three clients."
"Better to lose all your clients than the love of God. You'll get other clients. Don't worry, my son. Now for your absolution go do five Hail Marys, two Our Fathers and pray for God's forgiveness."
"Thank you, Father."
Confession made me feel a little better but I couldn't bring myself to quit working for Inca Oil. It was too good a client and I planned on making a big score on Parker #3 when it was drilled. I figured I would just have to stay clear of Sheila.
The next day I called over to see if Kurt had made it back in town. Cynthia answered the phone and told me that indeed Kurt had returned and that he wanted me to come over and report to him on my meeting with Pete Hall and conversation with Metro Leasing. When I arrived Kurt was out in the front yard with two Doberman pinchers. After I parked my Pinto next to the Maserati I walked cautiously over to him. The dogs growled at me.
"Quiet down Ginger," Kurt said.
"Nice dogs," I said. "I didn't know you were a dog lover."
"These aren't pets. They are highly trained attack dogs. We've been having a problem with prowlers lately and I'm teaching them to patrol the grounds."
"You don't have a solid fence around this place so won't they just run off if you leave them?" I asked.
"No. They have a remote control device that gives them an electric shock if they go beyond a certain point," Kurt said. "After a few days they'll patrol the ground but will not stray too close to th
e perimeter."
"What about people you invite over?"
Kurt smiled. "Well you better get to know them so they'll recognize you."
"Good idea. What are their names?" I said.
"Ginger and Pepper."
"Come her Ginger," I said as I knelt down and extended my hand. "Come here Pepper."
The two dogs warily approached me, sniffing my feet and my legs. Slowly I moved my hand over their heads and began to pet them. They immediately warmed up to me and became very friendly.
"Well, they seem to like you. I don't think you'll have any trouble," Kurt said.
"No, dogs love me. I don't know why but they always do. I always had a dog when I was a kid. Rebekah doesn't like dogs, so we don't have one now, but I’m working on her."
"Is that right? Well, come on in and tell me about Pete."
I followed Kurt through the house to the patio where Gwen was sitting talking to Cynthia. Kurt sat down and told the maid to get me a drink. "How was your trip?" I said.
"It went perfect. I got two new investors for sure and several excellent prospects. So what's Pete's problem?"
"He's just worried about the Panhandle Building deal," I said. "You know he's dropping all his retirement money into that project."
"Well you know who made him all that money he’s got in his retirement?" Kurt said.
“You did?” I guessed.
"Yes. When I was dating his daughter he was penniless with no retirement at all. I put him in a couple of deals for peanuts and made him over one hundred thousand dollars."
"He mentioned something about that. I don't think he's going to be a problem, he's just a little scared and needed some reassurance."
"Well tell him if he sticks in this Panhandle deal he'll triple his money in six months plus get a tax write off that will make his profit almost tax free," Kurt said.
"You think it's going to be that good?" I said.
"I know it is. Once I rehab that building they'll be buyers lining up to buy it."
"Why is that?"
"Because none of these buyers want to go to all the trouble to locate a suitable building, hire a contractor and sink a lot of capital into a rehab project. They're too chicken to take that kind of gamble. But when I get the building done and have it all leased up they'll be knocking at my door to buy it . . . and they'll pay me much more than the property is really worth."
"That makes sense, but what if you can't get the building leased up. Isn't downtown Amarillo dying?"
"That's a myth. Amarillo has one of the most dynamic downtown areas in Texas. They have a very active civic association that is constantly doing things to promote the downtown area. We won't have any problem getting tenants because when we're done we'll have one of the nicest buildings in Amarillo. And it won't be some modern skyscraper but a building with class and style."
"Well you sold me," I said.
Kurt smiled and said, "You want in on this one, Stan?"
"No, I got four kids that like to eat a lot so I pretty much spend everything I make."
"Well if you keep doing a good job, in six months you'll have lots of extra money. Maybe you can even afford a real car," Kurt said.
I didn't respond to Kurt's comment as I was a little hurt and embarrassed. Gwen sensed my embarrassment and changed the subject.
"So I heard you went down to Corpus Christi," she said.
"Yeah, I did . . . had a little business down there.”
"I love Corpus," Gwen said. "The bay is so beautiful."
"I love the deep blue water and salty smell in the air," I said.
"I hate the ocean," Kurt said. "I'll take the sweet scent of the city anytime."
"I guess I need to talk to you about Metro Leasing," I said.
"I took care of that little bastard already. If he sets one foot on this place Ginger and Pepper will have him for lunch," Kurt said.
I didn't know how to respond to what Kurt said so I kept my mouth shut. I wondered if he meant he had paid Metro what he owed them or he got Pepper and Ginger to guard the Rolls so it wouldn't be repossessed. I assumed it had to be the former.
"Listen Kurt, I wonder if you would do me a favor?" I said.
"What's that?" Kurt said as he gave me a curious look.
"I know you have a title company you usually use, but I've got this friend, Ron Johnson, who owns Big D Title Company and who has been a big help to me getting my law practice off the ground. I was wondering if you would let Big D close the Panhandle Building deal?"
Kurt pondered my request for a moment and then said, "Why not? A title company is a title company . . . it doesn't matter what their name is, they all are underwritten by the same insurance companies. Anyway Commercial Title has been kind of taking me for granted anyway. It will be good for them to realize I can go to any title company I want. Maybe they will become a little more responsive to my needs in the future."
"Thank you. That's great," I said. "Well I've got to get going. Nice seeing you again Gwen . . . Cynthia," I said.
"Don't forget the Panhandle deal has got to close in ten days. Be sure your guy at Big D is ready."
"No problem."
When I got back to the office I immediately called Ron Johnson and told him the good news. He was delighted he was going to get to close on a 2.5-million-dollar office building, not just once but twice. I felt good because he had been so helpful to me when I needed him and now I was able to repay him. He assured me he would be ready for the closing in ten days.
That afternoon it began to rain and before long General Burton showed up. I wondered if he ever actually worked. I never saw him take a client to look at real estate and he never talked about any properties he was trying to sell. The only thing I ever saw him do was go play golf or take some old friend out to lunch. My curiosity finally got the best of me so I asked him about it.
"General Burton, I know you're in the commercial real estate business, but I never hear you talking about any properties or projects you’re working on."
"You know Stan I've got a nice pension from the Army so I don't need to make a lot of money, besides in my business you only need to make a sale once or twice a year to do well."
"I guess I'm in the wrong business."
"Well most real estate agents work very hard, I'm just lucky because I'm a retired General and I've got lots of friends who do most of my work for me."
"I guess you've earned it."
"I've paid my dues," General Burton said. "Hey. I've got some good news about Melba Thorn."
"What's that?"
"You wanted to talk to someone who knew her well."
"Yes," I said. "Well we're having lunch today with Jane Thorn Brown."
"Her daughter?"
"Right, I used to see her quite a lot when I knew her parents, so I just gave her a call. She was really happy to hear from me so I invited her to lunch."
"Oh man, that's great. Now maybe we can find out what in the hell is going on."
Brash Endeavor, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 3 Page 12
