“Okay,” Bishop said with resignation. “You’re right. I’ll take a look for you.”
The chief smiled. “Means a lot to me, Bishop. I don’t think I could handle one more responsibility.”
Bishop gave another sigh in surrender and asked, “You bring the file?”
The chief pulled the file out of his briefcase and handed it to Bishop.
“Pretty sure of yourself,” Bishop said.
“No, not at all. I just figured that if you said yes, you’d want it. I didn’t think you’d turn me down though. I guess I have Kathy to thank this time.”
He looked at her, smiled and said, “I thank you, Kathy. I do. I need him on this one.”
They sat and talked about the case until their beers and Kathy’s wine had been finished. The chief promised Bishop some credentials and left. He also said he’d call the newspaper and let them know about Bishop’s appointment so people he interviewed would know he had authority.
“Thanks,” Bishop said without enthusiasm.
*****
Bishop read the file while Kathy prepared dinner.
During dinner she asked, “You find the killer in the file, deputy?” She smiled mischievously.
He shook his head, no. “There was an odd thing in it though. The office lights were turned off when Shelly and Stan’s dad showed up. It was in Shelly’s report. Usually office lights are kept on until the last person leaves.” He added a half laugh and said, “Well, maybe the killer was the last person to leave.”
“What do you make of that?” Kathy asked.
He shook his head again, “I don’t know. Just an odd thing. Maybe Thomas was killed after he’d turned them off to leave.” He frowned. “Problem with that … he was sitting down, not like he was leaving.”
She laughed and said, “Maybe the killer turned them off to save electricity.”
“Yeah,” Bishop agreed, tongue in cheek.
“I’m glad you have the problem, not me. What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I don’t have an idea. I guess I’ll just start pulling ravels, if I can find any to pull, and see where that leads.”
“The chief said just look at it and say it looks like it was a random killing,” Kathy said. “He’ll use your report as a way to close it.”
“You and the chief both know I can’t do that. I’ll investigate and see what the facts tell me before I can make a recommendation.”
Later the chief would tell him Stan had been killed a couple of hours before he was found, when it was full daylight.
That made the light thing even more odd. Even in daylight, the office needed light. But it had no obvious significance, so he pushed it to the back of his thoughts and focused on things that might have significance, Thomas’ law practice for starters. Did he have a personal life that may have intruded into someone else’s who didn’t want an intrusion?
*****
After Bishop and Kathy had breakfast the next morning, she helped clean up, for which he was always glad. The cleanup wasn’t hard, but it was always messy, especially washing the pan used to fry the bacon. Bishop threatened to buy one of those new fryers where someone lays the bacon on a griddle and lowers the lid to let it fry itself. Still had to be cleaned but it looked like it was an easier job.
He kissed her goodbye and gave her a hug to send her on her way.
“You’re my sweetheart,” he told her. “See you this afternoon.”
“I’ll be here,” she said.
After getting dressed, he sat down with a last cup of coffee and mulled over what he needed to do on the Thomas case.
Who had the guy pissed off? A client, or somebody else? Bryant has to be on the list. Thomas got after him for a client. I’ll ask his secretary what he’d been doing in his practice. Who he might have pissed off? His girlfriend may know something else too.
The Perlin visit and his death raises questions. And Perlin had left a box with Thomas. Drugs most likely? Perlin was a dealer, but he was killed in a drug shootout so he couldn’t have killed Thomas. But, somebody did, and they must have known about the box. Margo? Was Stan supplying drugs to her? Or the Bryant guy? He had accused Thomas of being the supplier. Damn, lots of ravels to pull.
He decided to refer to the dead attorney by his first name and switched.
Maybe Stan talked to his parents about a problem. I doubt it, but I’ll ask. They’ll be pretty upset right now. Do I wait till they get over it or catch ‘em while things are fresh on their minds? I think I’ll just start asking questions. If it looks like I’m upsetting anybody, I’ll back off and let the chief know. One step at a time. Hell, bank work is easy compared to this! Everything is unknown.
“Maybe somebody will confess,” he said, and laughed. That’ll be when hell freezes over. Hasn’t happened yet.
A man in a police uniform brought him a card later that identified him as a special investigator for the Lawton Police Department. Bishop thanked him.
Chapter 10
The next morning Bishop called the chief to tell him the approach he was going to take on the case. Usually, after his first go at witnesses, he had a better idea about who might be the real target, but he always started his investigations with a broad brush pulling all the ravels.
The chief acted like he was surprised that Bishop would even call.
“Hell, for now it’s all yours, Bishop. I’m not doing anything on the case. Call or see anybody you want to. I’m tied up with this drug thing,” he said. “I just got word they’re selling pot at the high school. Somebody saw a sale in the parking lot of a cell phone outfit. One of my officers joked that they could get a bag of shit with a hamburger.”
“Damn funny, but maybe true! Good luck,” Bishop told him.
“Yeah. Luck. Hell, Bishop, I need a miracle,” the chief told him. “We stick a finger in one hole and another one opens up someplace else. Like that old story about water leading from damn.”
Bishop knew he couldn’t help him with a miracle, and wasn’t at all certain he could help him with the Stan Thomas murder either. But he knew he’d try.
“Hell, we may end up on the same trail,” Bishop said to himself. “May very well be a drug connection. Hell, no maybe about. Has to be, I figure, but I know I have to consider all angles.”
He thought about which ravel to pull and decided he’d start with the parents. “Question is, should I call or just show up? I imagine they have their phone off. I’ll call, the decent thing to do.”
He called and indeed, no one answered.
“Probably not up for seeing anybody, but police needs trump human grief, so I’ll just show up,” Bishop said.
He grabbed his coat and briefcase with a notepad, and headed for the door. His thoughts were a muddle. In them was the phrase somebody coined, “A journey of a thousand miles begin with a single step.”
“Well, I’m taking the first step now. A thousand miles to go. Damn.”
But before he reached the door, his doorbell rang. Who the hell is that? He had a camera on his doorbell so he looked at the monitor for the camera to see who was pushing the thing. It was a young woman. He thought he recognized her, but couldn’t recall the circumstances.
He pushed the button and said, “Yes, Bishop Bone.”
“I’m Shelly Gambrel. We met at the Country Club, you remember, at the tennis tournament.”
Of course. I must be losing it.
“Yes, I remember. You and Stan played in the finals. I’ll let you in.”
She was wearing a white blouse, gray slacks, and tennis shoes.
Dark hair down to her shoulders and eyes. Good shape. Not a bad looking woman. Decent build, he thought. What the hell does she want?
She answered his question. “I’m … well, was Stan’s fiancée. I read in the morning paper that you’re in charge of investigating his murder. I wanted to talk to you.”
I hope she has some information I can use. Maybe she knows who killed him. I’d solve the case in one day.
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“Well, come on up,” Bishop said. “Door’s open. I’m alone. Will that bother you?”
She said it wouldn’t.
When she’d come inside, he asked if she wanted coffee. She said no, and sat down in one of the family room chairs.
He took out his pad and sat in a chair facing hers, and said, “Well, fire away. Tell me what you want me to know. I’ll ask questions after you finish.”
She told him she was a hospital nurse and that she and Stan had been engaged for some time.
“We wanted to get married, but he said we had to wait until his practice built up enough to support a wife and, if we had children, his family as well.”
Bishop nodded.
“In the last few months, he more or less indicated that his practice had picked up. I thought we’d be setting a date to get married, then this happened.” She said he had been talking about doing things in his house. “Even talked about buying a new car.”
So, the practice was doing better. Why are you telling me that? And, why aren’t you telling me about ole Freddie? I’ll ask when I can.
“Good,” he said.
“His secretary, Leann, I’ve forgotten her last name. I think it’s Barkley though. It was on her chart at the hospital. I knew her from that, and I’d also met her when I came to the office to see Stan. Anyway, she wondered how he was making enough to pay the bills. He’d started paying her salary. His dad had been doing it before. But Leann didn’t see that many new clients. She knew he’d picked up a few, just not enough to pay the bills like he’d been doing, mainly her salary.”
“Maybe it was vacation time for some of the lawyers in town. People needing lawyers had to find somebody else,” Bishop supposed.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. She just thought it was odd.”
“Did she ask Stan about it?” Bishop asked. “How he suddenly had picked up new clients?”
“I don’t know. She was in the hospital for some tests. That’s when we talked. Her doctor had scheduled them. I haven’t seen her since.”
Bishop nodded.
She continued. “She said she was a little afraid to talk to Stan personally. He kind of rubbed people the wrong way. Her too. Had an arrogance about him.”
“I assume you asked him. What’d he say?”
“He didn’t like me asking him anything that had anything to do with his practice. I think he said it was confidential or something like that.”
“A man and woman often argue about money. Usually it’s because there’s not enough, but if there’s too much, the wife asks where it came from. Was it gambling or something like that?”
“We weren’t married. He promised, but that’s as far as we got. We practically lived together but as I said, he never talked about his law practice … well his clients.” She wiped tears from her eyes.
“Client confidentially,” Bishop said. “Most lawyers don’t mind talking about it with their wives and, I assume fiancées, but I guess he did. But now that somebody shot him, you’re wondering if somehow the shooting was connected to the apparent increase in the money he had been making?”
“Yes,” she said as she stifled a sniff. “It bothered me when Leanne said it, but I more or less forgot it. I was glad it looked like we could get married, but other than that, it wasn’t any of my business, his practice, I figured.
“But when he was shot, I began to wonder and figured I should tell somebody in case it’s important. Since you’re in charge of the case, I decided to tell you.”
He thanked her. “It very well could be important,” he said. “I’ll be talking to his secretary. I’ll ask her what she knows, if anything.”
The chief had given him the secretary’s name, phone number and address. It was in town.
It looked like she’d finished so he decided to ask a question or two. “If you don’t mind me asking, I’ve heard that you had an affair with Freddie Meyers, and –“
“How do you know that?” she asked with shocked look on her face.
Bishop shrugged. “Small town. Everybody knows everybody’s business especially the goings on of guys like Freddie. He was a womanizer. They cause trouble.”
She sighed and cast her eyes down before saying, “Well, we did have an affair. I think he was just that, a womanizer. I decided he was just … well, I hate to admit it, but he was using me. So, I broke it off. I told Stan who said, kind of, that he was forgiving me. I’m not sure, but I think he talked with Freddie after I told him. He didn’t say much about it. I got that impression from what he did say that their calls weren’t friendly.”
“What was that?” Bishop asked when she hesitated. “What’d he say?”
“He said he’d gotten the best of the ‘bastard’.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Bishop said. “I know such things are embarrassing to talk about.”
Interesting. Bishop thought. Said he’d gotten the best of the bastard. Wonder how. Ole Freddie’s definitely on my list. Hell, he never got off it.
“Tell me about Freddie, I understand he … shall I say, kind of got you drunk, plied you with drugs and next thing you knew, you were having sex with him.”
She looked angry. “Did Ella tell you that? She wasn’t-”
Bishop interrupted her to say, “I don’t know an Ella. I think somebody overheard you talking about it. Maybe it was to her, Ella. Anyway, they told someone who knows me and she told me. So.” He shoved out his palms for her to proceed.
“It’s about like you said. He asked me to smoke a cigarette, one of those funny ones, weed. I’d already had some wine so after a few puffs, I felt dizzy. I remember he put some white powder on a table and sniffed it and shoved me toward it. Next thing I remember was being in bed with him, like you said.”
“Sounds like a good case for rape could be made.”
“It was all so embarrassing. I just decided to forget it. That was the end of my … what people call affair with Freddie though. He’d been hinting at marriage, but by that time I knew it was all baloney.”
“Especially after he’d pressured you for confidential information about the hospital’s patients, the ones that had died.”
She looked shocked again that he also knew about the patients, but only for an instant. She grimaced and said, “Yeah, that too. He was just out for what he could get. A way to make some money.”
“And you told Stan about everything,” Bishop said. “And you think he called Freddie on it.”
She nodded her head.
If Stan threatened to turn him in to the bar association, Freddie might have been motivated enough to kill him. Thin, but it does makes him a suspect at least. Maybe that’s why Stan had said he’d gotten the better of the bastard. Probably.
He asked, and she told him, that she was helping her mother prepare for a dinner party they were having for friends the Saturday Stan was killed. She told him Stan was taking her to a steak dinner. That’s why she’d called. He wasn’t at home when he should have been. Bishop believed her and didn’t bother to check.
That was the end of his interview with her. She looked down when she left, depressed as hell.
When she was gone, he thought, I need to talk to his secretary, Leann. See if she knows anything else about Stan and Freddie. And maybe he had made other enemies in his practice. No doubt Freddie was one, facing disbarment. That guy Bryant could be considered one. I have to check that one out.
“Hmm, probably should see Leann first, but it’s in my mind to see Stan’s parents, so I’ll see them first. Besides, they’re closer.”
His secretary is most likely out looking for a job, anyway.
He put his notepad back into his briefcase and called Stan’s mother and father, Hank and Emma, again. Still no answer. He left a message, telling them who he was, his credentials, and that he needed to talk to them.
“I’ll be driving over in a few minutes. I’m sorry to intrude, but it’s important in a case like this to get on it as quickly as possible,” he said in
his message.
*****
During the drive to the Thomas home, Bishop talked to himself about the information Stan’s fiancée had given him, mainly the sudden increase in the income he’d had. “Must have come from someplace or somebody. I doubt it was from clients. Clients usually require legal work and secretaries get involved. If the secretary confirms the income question, it could be important. Drugs? Probably. Blackmail? Could be somebody got tired of paying it and turned out his lights, real and otherwise.”
That reminded him again about the lights in the office. How they’d been turned off. Was that important? Most likely not. Damned if I can’t find some shit to dawdle about.
He pulled into the drive way of the Thomas’ home and got out. The house looked relatively new. It had a farmhouse style, was white with shutters on the windows, and a shingled roof. The property, as much as he could see, was fenced. Looked like one field behind the house was a pecan orchard, with fruit trees here and there between the pecan trees.
Charming front porch, he noted as he got out of his car. Probably got a back one as well, with a pond. People from the old days always had to have a pond, someplace to go and catch “supper” or just relax trying to.
He chuckled to himself as he walked closer and could see past the back yard. Yep. There it was. A pond they most likely looked at from their back porch when drinking coffee or something a little stronger, or maybe just sitting there in their rocking chairs. He sure as hell had something like that behind his. He had Indian Creek and the beaver pond.
He rang the doorbell. Seconds later, an elderly lady opened the door. She wore a plain dress with faded flowers. The dress was one she wore around the house, Bishop figured. Her eyes were red and she didn’t offer a smile. She wasn’t all that tall and had picked up a few pounds over the years.
Been crying, he decided. No surprise.
He told her who he was and why he was there. He also apologized for intruding at a time like this, and told her the same thing he’d said in his phone message.
Death of the Weed Merchant Page 12
