Dani Hayward, P.I.: The Richard Clark Case

by Ellie Smith

  Back in his office, Phil opened his briefcase and removed the airlines ticket. Canada would just have to wait. Richard Clark was a hell of a lot more important than a two-week vacation. He sighed heavily then stuffed the ticket back into the briefcase and closed it. The evidence seemed to be stacked against Clark. Everything pointed to the young professor's guilt. Everything, that is, except Richard Clark's eyes and a can of Coke. It wasn't much to go on but, right now, it was all he had. Phil reached for the phone and dialed a memorized number.

  "Ted Campbell."

  "You sure as hell do know how to wreck a guy's vacation don't you."

  A tense chuckle came over the wires. "I've been told I've done worse. I gather you went down and talked to Rick."

  "I just got back."

  "He's a good kid Phil. If he says he didn't kill that guy, he didn't."

  "How long have you known him?"

  "Twenty-two years."

  Phil frowned. He calculated quickly as his thoughts jetted back. "Twenty-twoyears? I don't remember him from college?"

  "He didn't go to college with us."

  "Then how could you have known him for twenty-two years? I thought we had the same friends at Harvard."

  "We did. Do you remember, during our Junior year, my Dad remarried and I flew home for the wedding?"

  "Yes."

  "And do you remember me telling you about the bratty son of the woman my father married?"

  "You called him Bitchy Richie didn't you?"

  "That's the one. Well, that's Rick Clark. He's my step-brother."

  Phil looked out toward the Dallas skyline. "Didn't you tell me his father had died when he was a kid?"

  "Yes. Rick's father was killed in an automobile accident when Rick was ten. He was stone drunk and lost control of his car up in the hills above L.A. and went off a cliff. Why?"

  "Just curious," was the thought-provoked reply. "Tell me everything you know about Richard Clark."

  "Well," Ted Campbell began. "He had a damn lousy childhood. As I said, his father was an alcoholic. He beat his wife and Rick. After he was killed, Selma, that's Rick's mother, tried to make it on her own. She got a job at Dad's company. That's how they met. They went together two years before they got married. Rick had gotten wild after his Dad died. Selma could not handle him. After they got married Dad stepped in and, from what I've been told, Rick settled down. Dad says he really turned around and ended up graduating from high school with honors. I was in London then and wasn't in touch with the family much but Dad filled me in on the important parts. Rick got a scholarship to USC. He lived at home and went to school and graduated in the top one percent of his class four years later."

  "What'd he major in?"

  "Psychology," came the response. "And he minored in Political Science. He's a real brain." He paused a moment. "Anyway, after college, Rick got a teaching job at the University of Miami. He was there three years then decided he wanted to go back to school and get his doctorate. I didn't know about any of this until I called home one Christmas and Dad told me that Rick was going to Stanford and living in Palo Alto. I was living in San Fran at the time. Dad suggested that I might give him a call and see if he needed anything. I got the impression there was something Dad was not telling me and I gave Rick a call. We got together the following weekend and that's when I learned that he was barely making ends meet. He was working two part-time jobs and was about at the end of his rope; both in keeping up with his studies and the rent on his apartment. I convinced Rick to move in with me."

  "So he lived with you for a while?"

  "Three years," Ted informed. "I got to know Richard Clark damn well in those three years. We got to be more than step-brothers; we got to be close friends. For more than two of those three years, we were almost inseparable. We went everywhere together. That's why I know he wouldn't have killed anyone. Rick just isn't like that. He doesn't have a temper of any kind. He's the most easy going man I've ever met. Nothing ruffles him. He'd talk things out instead of getting violent or he’d just leave."

  "Did he ever own a gun to your knowledge?"

  "Absolutely not. Rick hates guns. He hates any kind of weapons." Ted chuckled. "Hell, I remember we used to go fishing down the coast. Rick loves to fish. When I tried to teach him how to filet fish, he would not touch the knife. He was that adamant about weapons. He does catch and release and nothing else."

  "What about alcohol?"

  "He never touched the stuff. Rick grew up with an alcoholic father. That really soured him against drinking. He wouldn’t even have a glass of wine with dinner. He was always afraid he would fall into the same trap his father had.”

  "Did he go to Harrison after he left your place?"

  "No. He got a job at USC after he graduated from Stanford," came the reply. "He was at USC for two years before he applied to Harrison."

  "Have you had much contact with him in the last seven years?"

  "Yep," came the instant reply. "While he was at USC, he'd drive up once a month for the weekend. Then, after he went to Harrison, we get together in the summer and at Christmas. Why all the questions?"

  "Just getting some background on my client," Phillip Blakely informed, knowing what kind of a reaction he would get.

  "You mean you took his case?"

  "I'd say so if he's my client," Phil said lightly.

  "Thanks Phil," Ted Campbell said gratefully. "I owe you for this."

  "Yeah you do," Phil agreed half-teasing. "You owe me two weeks in Canada."

  "You got it, my friend. So, you think Rick's innocent too?"

  "Yes I do," Blakely confirmed as a deep frown creased his brow. "But I've got a feeling it's going to be damn tough to prove. The evidence is stacked against him real good."

  "What do you mean?"

  Phil relayed what he had learned from Jerry Alvarado.

  "Murder one?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Oh God," Ted groaned. "Rick must be scared to death. He told me today that this is his first brush with the law. He hasn't even ever had a parking ticket." His voice grew tense. "What are you going to do? Any idea what you're going to use to base your case on?"

  "Not yet," Blakely admitted. "I'm hoping I can find some character witnesses at Harrison."

  "All the character witnesses in the world won't do a damn bit of good against that kind of evidence. You're going to need a hardcore defense."

  "I know. And, right now, that's something I don't have. But there's got to be something out there someplace. I just have to find it."

  Chapter 2