Two other shadows closed in and grabbed Hocken. His shadow moved frantically as he tried to resist, but yet another man’s shadow appeared and helped pin the DA’s arms behind his back. Clay smiled as he heard Captain Wolfson’s voice.
“…if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for you. But you know all this stuff, Perry. I really don’t have to go through this stuff, do I?”
All but one shadow moved away from the door. Wolfson opened it and smiled.
“Thanks for the help, Clay, Ms Longmont. We got everything on tape, including the soliloquy about why he killed Barton.”
“Good. Don’t think there will be much chance of a not guilty verdict, even if he gets his good friend Dean Waldrup to defend him.”
Wolfson laughed. “Yea, even Dean will ask for a plea deal for his client.” He lowered his voice. “Thanks again, you two. In two days, he would have been out of the country.”
“Our pleasure, Captain,” April said. She winked at Clay, then glanced back at the Captain. “Believe me, it was truly our pleasure.”
“Chalk up one for the good guys,” Wolfson said as he exited.
Clay stood up and his shoulder brushed April’s. “This case has given me more satisfaction than any other I worked on,” he said.
April turned around and placed her arms around his waist. “Jerry’s funeral is tomorrow morning. I want to go and pay my respects, and I know you do too.”
Clay nodded.
“But after that, we can begin making some plans. I figure Coltran-Nash will be so happy that we saved them a huge amount of money that they will offer us a bonus.”
“Yes, but the execs and vice-president don’t know that we are the ones that prevented the theft.”
“I plan to tell them,” April said.
“Oh, that’ll work. I imagine you can be very persuasive too.”
“Darn right. We can make our trip to the islands. I can wear that blue bikini for you.” Her finger touched his lips. “But you know there’s a lot of nude beaches down there. So, there’s a 50-50 chance it could come off.”
Clay leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. Elation shot through her body, and she sensed Clay had a similar surge of emotion.
“A 50-50 chance?” he said.
“Make it 80-20,” she said. “Kiss me again, and it’ll be 90-10.”
THE END
Murder at Woodruff Mansion
Part I
1
As dark clouds blackened out the sun, and heavy rain pounded on the Woodruff mansion, April Longmont realized she had liked most of the people she had interviewed as a feature reporter for the Sea Oak Daily News. Most were local people who had established businesses, or community leaders, or simply unique and quirky local personalities. Almost all of them were impressive. And a few were lovable.
Her current interview was the exception. Melvin Woodruff, the richest man in the county, grated on her like chalk on a blackboard.
Woodruff was elderly, three months past his eighty-sixth birthday, and in a wheelchair. Even though he appeared sickly and coughed constantly, strength remained in his dark eyes. He wasn’t an ugly man. His nose, mouth, and other features did not have any abnormalities. He had not lost any of his silver hair. Until recently, he had even walked with a dance to his step. He was known to smile a lot and, with a laugh in his voice, repeat old Southern sayings such as “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”
April jumped as the crash of thunder split the skies. The pen in her hand bounced on the desk and dropped to the thick, burgundy rug.
“The Carolina storms can still scare you,” Woodruff said. He chuckled. “Two months after Mamie and I arrived here, a hurricane ripped across the region. It uprooted trees, tossed cars around, and knocked down a few houses. Had five inches of water in what little street there was. The storm was so bad Mamie wondered if we made a mistake coming and she asked if we should go somewhere else.” He tapped the cane on the carpet twice. “But I was convinced this was the place for us. And I was right.”
He winked to emphasize his words.
“Perhaps that hurricane was symbolic, Mr. Woodruff,” April said. “You have been compared to a force of nature yourself.”
He chuckled and nodded. “I have. I’m a good businessman and I drive a hard bargain. A big city fella tried to pull a fast one on me. When we got through dealing, he had a blank, dazed look on his face and probably was bare-chested because he lost his shirt without realizing it. I had good business sense and I made the most of it.”
April scribbled in her notebook. She looked down so Woodruff wouldn’t see the doubt in her eyes. Not doubt about his business acumen. In the business and financial world, even critics said Woodruff was a genius. He had a knack for making the right decision at the right time, for investing in projects, which paid off, and for not investing in businesses, which later went sour. Woodruff was the man who, at one time, owned most of the downtown district of Sea Oak and a great deal of the surrounding county.
He was also incredibly thrifty or, as the business reporter at the Sea Oak Daily News said, “So tight he could squeeze a nickel and get two pennies out of it.” Adam Naggler, the business reporter, also told her Woodruff could be like “a jackal zeroing in on prey. He’s a diminutive guy, only about five-five or five-six, and he doesn’t look all that impressive when he walks into a board meeting. He’s not one of those people who suck the oxygen out of the room, but don’t get between him and his goal. Even a little guy can drive a steamroller and he doesn’t mind rolling over people. He disarmed more than one opponent with his crinkly little smile. He can appear disarming at times. Don’t buy it. He’s always loaded for bear.”
April looked up and smiled. “Mr. Woodruff, I know we covered most of your life, but now I’d like to talk about your greatest financial success and, as it came near the end of your career, the sale of the Daily News.”
He gave the odd little laugh again. “Thought you might be interested in that since you work for the newspaper.”
“Mildly curious,” she said.
“I started the newspaper about sixty-five years ago. I operated it for decades in that little office on Elridge Street just a block from downtown. I think it was the late sixties when I finally went ahead and built a modern structure to hold the paper. That was along Eddison Highway. We had the best, most sophisticated equipment available. The newspaper was only two days a week then, just Wednesday and Saturday. About three years later we went daily.”
“It was one of your most successful ventures,” April said.
“Compared to some other businesses, the Daily News was easy,” Woodruff said. “We had no competition. There was no other local newspaper in town. The Greenville paper had a bureau here and had some local news but that was all. The paper was also helped because the town and the region went through a growth spurt around the late seventies and early eighties. For seven or eight years in a row, the paper gained a thousand or more subscribers a year. In fact I think in one year, and I forget which one it was, more than four thousand new subscribers were added.”
What the weaselly old man did not note, April thought, was there was another man who wanted to start a newspaper in Sea Oak the same time Woodruff did. He mysteriously left town after the sheriff allegedly drove him to the county line, kicked him out, and told him not to come back. Sadly, April could not get confirmation of the story since the sheriff had long since died. His two sons, a bit elderly themselves, denied any knowledge of the story and told her it was obviously false.
“But it was the sale of the Daily News to the Smith-Warren Corporation that was perhaps the crowning achievement to your career.”
He nodded.
“Yes, back when I grew up, we didn’t have computers or fancy phones which took pictures. You are too young to know what typesetters were. We had to develop the pictures back then and we did it in what were called darkrooms. We mixed the chemicals and developed the film. If you made a mis
take, there were no photos for the newspaper, but I was always ready to adapt the new technologies. About twenty years ago, the Smith-Warren people approached me and asked if I’d like to sell the Daily News. They wanted a string of newspapers in this area. The company had two or three and they wanted more. At first I hesitated because Stephen, my second son, was always interested in journalism, and I knew he wanted to take over the paper when I retired, which I was getting ready to do. Mel junior, my first son, didn’t really care about the newspaper one-way or the other. I must admit, due to age my interest in the Daily News was waning. Wade, my third son, was indifferent to the newspaper too. He’s taking early retirement on my money.”
If I were one of your children, so would I, thought April. But Woodruff’s tone didn’t seem too happy about his third son’s idle state.
Thunder rumbled again. Rain slashed the trees on the property and pummeled the roof and sides of the house. April looked toward the window and saw the fury of the storm.
“Don’t worry about anything,” Woodruff said. “This is an isolated storm. The hurricane is still two days, maybe three days away. This house can withstand the fiercest storm nature can throw at us. The foundations of this house can’t be shaken. I made sure of that when it was built. You’re safe here no matter how much the wind roars. Plus, there’s a basement generator. If the power goes out in the area, the lights will still be on here. So will all the utilities. We will be cooking steak and drinking whiskey when the storm passes by.”
“Glad to hear that. But you finally decided to sell the newspaper to Smith-Warren?”
“Yes. Back then the Internet was just beginning to take small bites of advertising away from newspapers. It wasn’t much of a bite, and no one in journalism and no one in the business world realized the Internet would rapidly change the profession, if not kill the profession. But I sure did. At one time owning a newspaper was like owning a printing press. Unless you totally screwed up you would make a lot of money. I sensed things would change and change swiftly. Stephen hated to see the paper go, but I told him we had no choice. So I sold.”
“I’m told the price tag was about one hundred and ten million.”
“I don’t talk about specific finances.”
April tapped the pen on her cheek. “I checked with a company which specializes in the sale of newspapers, if anyone wanted to buy them anymore. I asked what the sale price of the Daily News would be today. They said about twelve million, a ninety percent reduction of the price twenty years ago. You sold out just in time, Mr. Woodruff.”
He grinned again. The laugh was more akin to a cackle. “The most money that one sale ever made me. Some other owners in the region wanted to hang on to their newspapers. I told them not to. They thought I was getting senile. Who’s laughing now?”
“I imagine they regret not taking your advice.”
Glee came into his voice. “I’m sure they do. You think they would have learned over the years that I don’t make mistakes, at least not many. But they didn’t listen. A few of them lost a lot of money.”
April slid her pen into her purse. “Thank you Mr. Woodruff. Think I better get back. But I would like to have one more interview. Could we do it tomorrow, or would you like to wait until the hurricane passes over?”
“No reason to wait. This storm should clear up tonight. Should be fine tomorrow. It will be a few days before the hurricane hits us, if it doesn’t veer off in the Atlantic, and that’s what some weathermen say will happen.”
“Then may I see you again about two tomorrow?”
He showed a big smile. Several of his teeth had yellowed and decayed. “I’ll be looking forward to it. I’ve really enjoyed these interviews.”
That makes one of us, April thought.
When the waiter in the Yellow Cove placed the tall, cold margarita in front of her, April grabbed it and swallowed almost half the drink. She coughed and slammed the drink back on the table and smiled at her fiancé, Private Detective Clay Augustine.
“The man is creepy. And do you know what the creepiest thing is?” she said.
“That he runs around his house wearing only a small towel? Just a wild guess,” said Clay.
April chuckled. “That gives me one other image to clear my mind of. No, I mean, it’s not like Woodruff looks like a villain from a horror movie. He has aged well. You don’t look at him and run out of the room in a panic. He’s short, has white hair, average build and looks. The man walks with a cane for Pete’s sake. He has no ugly scars. Has an odd little laugh which at times is amusing and other times seems a bit…unusual…but I just don’t like being in the same room with him. He’s never made a grab for me. Although since he’s eighty-six and does walk with a cane, I could easily evade him and kick him in the groin for that matter. Back in college I gave a cheerleader kick between the legs to a football player.”
Clay winced and sipped his drink. “What happened to him?”
“He didn’t play the next game.”
“I can understand that.”
“Looked a little bit slow the next two or three games, too, for that matter,” April said. “But at least he wasn’t creepy, well not too creepy anyway.” She shook her head and took another gulp of the margarita.”
“Maybe you’re just sensing that Woodruff can be nasty in business. There are a few rumors about him and none of them are about how admirable he is. In building his considerable fortune, it’s said he cut a lot of corners,” Clay said.
“Said correctly, I’m sure. However this story is not an exposé. It’s a long feature on the richest guy in the county and the man who was instrumental in the growth of the city of Sea Oak. The guy owned the newspaper, owned major shares in two banks in the county, had some land, and bought an insurance agency for a while. I’m surprised the town council, who for a long time were friends of his, didn’t name the town Woodruff. For that matter he was on the town council for about ten years.” She sighed. “Only one more interview and I’m rid of him. I don’t want to go out there again.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“Yes!” Her faced beamed like a lit lighthouse. “I would really like you to. You don’t have a case?”
“Nope. I finished up a job a few days ago. I thought I’d take the rest of the week off. I’ll drive out with you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. You’re adorable.”
“I give good back rubs too.”
“How true. There is no end to your charms.”
Clay swallowed the rest of his drink. “What time do we go?”
“The interview is at two, so if you could, be at the newspaper thirty minutes before. It takes about twenty minutes to get to Woodruff’s house. By the way, do you know anything about the guy?”
Clay shook his head. “Never met him and his name never came up in any of my cases. I know some city history and know some men and women who are natives and served time in government. They went up against Woodruff, but didn’t speak as badly of him as they do about a couple of his associates back in those days. Heard of a man named Sam Attlee?”
“Nope.”
“He had some considerable business interests here fifty years ago. He owned the Ford dealership for about twenty or more years before he sold it. Back in the fifties, maybe early sixties, if any one complained, or rather complained too much, Attlee would invite the guy into his office and beat him up.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Attlee was a good-sized guy. A bit chubby but he had some muscle too. His fists handled any complaints. He was friends with the local police chief. If the guy filed a complaint, it didn’t go anywhere. And the local circuit judge was also a friend of Attlee, and Woodruff for that matter. So the deck was stacked. It was also rumored, and I can’t confirm this, that in the late fifties a local reformer started attending the city council meetings and asked a few uncomfortable questions. Then he began talking about running for city council. It would not have been an easy race since Woodruff was on t
he city council at that time, and he also owned the local newspaper."
“Something of an ethical conflict,” April said.
“Not to Woodruff. When he was involved he never saw any ethical conflicts. Had a blind spot, I guess.”
“Yeah, right.”
“But the young idealistic reformer kept causing trouble, at least that was the view of the city council. Then one night, as the rumor goes, three men assaulted him, took him out near the county line, dunked him in the Big Trout River a few times, and told him not to come back to Sea Oak. He packed his bags, jumped in his car, and no one saw him again. It was thought that Attlee was one of the three men. After the reformer exited, peace and quiet again prevailed at city council meetings. The peace was not to be disturbed for about fifteen years,” Clay said.
“Fifteen years? What happened then?”
“Sea Oak was and is a nice, scenic little town. A lot of people moved in, many of them on the beach section of town. The new people had no connection to the old guard, which is what members of the city council were called. The new people were called “beach nuts” by the old guard, but the beach people ran three candidates for the city council around nineteen seventy-six, maybe seventy-eight, and won the election. They put a stop to a lot of the nonsense and to a lot of the illegalities. Of course, Woodruff backed his old-guard friends, and he was very upset when they lost control of the city government. Only this time, even with all his power and all his money, he couldn’t change it. The beach people kept winning and kept control of the council for two decades or more. Attlee passed away some time ago. It was said he was still grumbling when he died.”
“Was he on the city council for a while?”
“Yes, he served with Woodruff.”
April swallowed more of her drink. “Darn, how did the taxpayers and other honest people make out during their terms?”
A Sea Oak Mystery Boxed Set Page 19
