Death of the Weed Merchant

by Robert G Rogers

  She invited him in. “We’re on the back porch. Come on back,” she said, the tone of her voice reflecting the sadness she felt. “Hank’s out there.”

  He followed her outside. The back porch was screened like his, to keep out the bugs. It was hot, but the fan wasn’t on. Bishop ignored the heat. He didn’t come there for comfort.

  Hank stood when Bishop came through the door. There was no smile on his face. He eyes looked a little red too. He was a rough looking man, Bishop decided. His looks most likely went with the business he was in before he retired. Had to deal with all kinds. All trying to get him to shave something off the price of his vegetables. In his seventies, maybe eighties, I’d guess, like his wife.

  His face was weather worn with deep wrinkles. Probably at least six feet tall, gray hair and needing a shave, Bishop decided in his initial look. Had what some people called a bit of a middle-aged spread.

  The man shoved out a hand to shake Bone’s. It felt as rough as he looked. He introduced himself though it wasn’t necessary. Bishop knew who he was. Bishop told him the same thing he’d told his wife at the front door. How he was investigating the death of their son for the police department.

  Hank gestured for him to take a seat.

  “Ask what you need to ask,” the man said. “This isn’t a good time for us. I guess you appreciate that.”

  Bishop agreed. He took out his pad and began his interview.

  “I assume you had good relations with your son,” Bishop said as he began.

  Stan’s mother agreed. Hank nodded and mumbled, “Worked together in the fields while he was in high school. Summers too, when he wasn’t in school. His brother, George, did too. I don’t think Stan liked it all that much, but he did it. Damn shame it all had to end like this. Both boys dead now. Son of a bitch.”

  “Has he ever talked about any problems he was having with a client or anybody?” Bishop asked both of them.

  His mother said, “Not that I ever heard. Hank, you ever hear him talkin’ about any problems?”

  Hank hesitated a second then shook his head no. “Far as I know, he didn’t have any. He never said if he did. Just working to get his law practice going.”

  “I understand that you had been paying his secretary’s salary since he opened his office. He took that over, didn’t he?”

  “He did. Said he was doing better. Had more clients, he said. He could pay for the girl,” Hank said. “Was having a hard time making a go of it for awhile.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Too many lawyers in town. His secretary told Stan’s fiancée that she hadn’t seen much of an increase in his clients. Some, but not much. What do you think about that?” Bishop asked.

  Both shook their heads. Hank grimaced as he did. Emma looked at her husband and said, “You didn’t tell me you weren’t paying for the girl anymore.”

  “No, I guess I plumb forgot. He called me up one day and said he was makin’ ‘nough to pay her himself. I was glad.”

  “And you don’t know about any problems he had? Anything? He must have made somebody mad. I doubt he had any money at the office to steal, so it had to be somebody with some other reason to kill him,” Bishop said. He didn’t say anything about the box. Didn’t figure they knew about it.

  Tears flowed down his mother’s face. She shook her head. “I never heard of anybody. He never said anything to me. You?” She looked at her husband and asked.

  “Never said a word. Seemed to be doing okay. Makin’ money. I don’t know who would want to shoot him,” Hank said.

  I’m wasting my time, Bishop thought.

  “Did he say anything about his practice? Why had it picked up?” Bishop asked.

  “What are you saying. You think he was doing something he shouldn’t ‘a been doing?” Hank asked, his eyebrows raised. He looked as if he might come out of his chair.

  “No. I was just asking if you knew anything that might help me figure out who might have had a reason to kill him.” He was thinking about Perlin and Margo and the box.

  More tears flowed down his mother’s face.

  Hank shook his head and eased back down before turning to stare out at the pond. “Don’t know shit,” he mumbled adding, “Both boys dead.”

  Looks like he may want to go out there and kill everything in the pond. Bishop thought. I guess this interview is over.

  He thanked them both and again apologized for intruding on their grief. Emma showed him out. Hank barely grunted when Bishop got up to leave.

  From the look on his face, he’s still looking for something to kill. I guess his son’s death hit him hard. Hard to take, I guess, losing both their sons.

  Driving away, he said, “I guess I’d better talk to Stan’s secretary, Leann Barkley.”

  He drove to her apartment. No one answered the doorbell. “Damn,” he said.

  Maybe she’s out looking for a job. Or, maybe she’s cleaning out her desk at the office.

  That’s where he drove next.

  As he got off the elevator, he saw the office door slightly open, so he walked in and found Leann putting stuff from her desk into a box of top of the desk.

  I imagine the chief’s people had finished with the crime scene, if they ever started. May have left it to me. Too late now.

  Leann wouldn’t win any beauty prizes, but she wasn’t bad looking. Plain is how Bishop saw her. A bit large in the hips, but otherwise she looked okay. Probably in her late twenties.

  He introduced himself, showed her his credentials, and shoved out a hand which she took as she gave her name.

  He told her he wanted to talk about her late boss. “Do you mind?” he asked.

  She didn’t, so he dragged one of the office chairs close to her desk and sat down. She took her chair and stared at him without showing any emotion.

  He told her he’d just been speaking with Stan’s parents. “As far as they knew, he didn’t have any enemies and hadn’t made any while he practiced law. Do you agree with that?”

  She looked puzzled. “I don’t know about that. A few days ago he had a run-in with a guy, Elmer Bryant. Rough looking man. Loud too. Mr. Thomas gave me his name after he’d left. Mr. Thomas threatened to call the police if he didn’t leave. He was the one Mr. Thomas got a restraining order against for Margo Dawkins.”

  “Tell me about that, the run-in,” Bishop said.

  She said Bryant came in and demanded to see Mr. Thomas. Before she could say anything, he barged into Mr. Thomas’ office and started shouting at him.

  “I heard him accusing Mr. Thomas of selling, he called it dealing, drugs to the Dawkins woman. He wanted Mr. Thomas to sell the drugs – pot, I think I heard him say – to him and to cut out the woman. He said he knew the business and she didn’t. He also said something about buying the stuff cheaper, in New Orleans. He said he could sell both … what Mr. Thomas was selling, better pot, he’d said, and the cheaper stuff he was getting from New Orleans.”

  “What did Mr. Thomas say?”

  “Oh goodness, he sounded upset. He denied knowing anything about it. He said if Bryant didn’t leave immediately, he was going to call the police. He also said … let me see if I can remember, he said if Bryant accused him of selling drugs in public, he would sue him for … libel, I think that’s what he called it.”

  “I see,” Bishop said.

  “What did Bryant say?”

  “He told Mr. Thomas he was making a big mistake dealing with the woman, Mrs. Dawkins, but he left when Mr. Thomas picked up the phone and started calling the police.”

  Doesn’t sound like he was dealing … but maybe he was bluffing the guy. “Anything happen after that?”

  “Why, no. Mr. Thomas was killed just after that though.”

  I guess that puts Bryant at the top of my list for now. Bryant might have killed Stan if he was convinced that he was dealing drugs to the woman. That would eliminate Stan and give Bryant the upper hand in selling the weed. But some big ifs in all that. Nobody has said for sure that Stan was th
e one dealing drugs. And how in the hell would he? How does anybody get into the business? How would Bryant get pot he thought Stan was selling. Stan had the box from a dealer. Probably had cocaine in it. A box that somebody, presumably the killer, took.

  “Did Stan have any other clients like that – threatening and shouting?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t remember any. I was only working part time though.”

  “The Bryant guy called me to represent him,” Bishop said. “He figured Margo Dawkins would be suing him.” I’m glad I didn’t get involved in his case, he thought.

  “She did sue him,” Leanne said. “Kind of.” She explained how Stan prepared a complaint, and attached an agreement signed by Bryant not to bother her again.

  Bishop acknowledged her agreement with a nod of his head and said, “Apparently, Bryant and Dawkins had a fight in a local honkytonk. I think he must have attacked her.”

  “I never met her. She came in on my day off. Mr. Thomas took care of her. He typed up most of the papers to file with the court. I did a little. I think he met with Mr. Bryant in the process. Served him with the order. He didn’t have an attorney. Mr. Thomas told me he had agreed to a restraining order that said that he would not bother Mrs. Dawkins again.”

  Bishop said, “But Bryant was in here accusing him of selling her … drugs, weed. You know if he was?”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. What I told you is all I know, all I heard. Mr. Bryant said that Mr. Thomas was selling drugs to Mrs. Dawkins but that he’d be better off, money wise, if he sold the drugs to him. He said Mr. Thomas was making a mistake selling to her and not to him.”

  Something I can put on my list to check. I bet the chief will be happy to hear it. May be nothing, but who knows. Bryant may be a nut case or he may know something.

  She looked at her desk, as if checking to see what else she needed to pack. So Bishop began to wrap up his interview.

  “I understand that Stan’s practice had picked up recently. He started paying your salary.”

  She nodded her head. “His dad had been paying me. He complained that I was charging too much. I wasn’t. I was getting less than most of the other secretaries in this town. Then one day, not too long ago, Mr. Thomas told me he was going to pay me himself. That’s when he took over paying all the bills. Well, I don’t think he was paying any rent though. One day his dad came in and I heard them talking about that. Stan told him he hoped to start paying rent in a few weeks.”

  “Where were his new clients coming from?” Bishop asked.

  “The ones he had were just walk-ins. Divorces, a couple of wills, a bankruptcy. No repeats. But from the way he acted, and the extra money he had, I guessed he had some new clients he only saw on my days off.”

  “Did he keep files?” Bishop asked.

  She shook her head, frowning as she did. “I asked Mr. Thomas the same thing. I thought I should make files. He told me not to worry about it. Most were just in for advice. Nothing long term. So, I let it go.”

  Advice? Bishop thought. Good money for advice in a small town like Lawton. Weed? Selling weed to Margo Dawkins like Bryant thought. Could be. Makes sense.

  “Is there anything you can tell me about who might have killed him. Did anybody but that guy Bryant have a shouting match with him?”

  “Nobody. That’s why it was a total shock to me. We didn’t have that many clients to begin with, and none that ever caused such a fuss. I’ve wondered myself and I can’t come up with anybody.”

  He had her verify the address of the farm where Stan lived. The chief had given it to him, but hadn’t been exactly sure it was right.

  She said, “He has a Mexican man and woman living in an apartment his grandfather built onto the barn. Garcia and Silvia. They came in one day. Mr. Thomas owed them some money. He’d told them to come by for it. Seemed like nice people. He told me that they kept the place up for him in exchange for rent, but now and then the man did extra work around the place, so he paid him cash sometimes too. I think he said the man also worked for a gardener. Oh, Silvia, Mr. Thomas said, cleaned motels in town.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be talking to them later. I’m glad you told me.”

  “No problem,” she said.

  “If you remember anything else, no matter how simple, call me.” He gave her one of his cards.

  He stood, then remembered the light. “Ah, if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you one more question.”

  She looked at him as if waiting for it.

  “The police report said the lights were out in Mr. Thomas’ office. Apparently, he was shot in the afternoon. Would he have turned the office lights off at that time of day? I suppose there was light coming in through the windows, but most people keep their lights on until they close up for the day.”

  She frowned. “As far as I know, we kept them on until we locked up to go home. Not much light comes in through these windows.”

  He also asked where she was the day her boss was shot. She spent that afternoon with some friends. They had cappuccinos at Starbucks, shopped at Walmart, and had an early dinner of soup and salad at Olive Garden.

  He thanked her and left.

  Chapter 11

  Bishop called the chief and asked if he wanted a cup of coffee. “I may have some information for you on this drug epidemic you’re fighting.”

  “If you do,” the chief said, “I’ll buy the coffee.”

  They met at a local place in town, a coffee shop with decent sweet rolls to go with their cappuccinos.

  Bishop got there first and ordered for both of them. The coffees and sweet rolls were ready when the chief walked in.

  He sat down and immediately asked, “What’s this information you have?”

  Bishop laughed at his abruptness. The chief was up to his eyeballs in it, and needed some good news, he figured.

  “Well, it’s nothing I’d take to court, but it may be a lead you can follow to something worthwhile.”

  “I’m listening. Let me have it. I’ll take anything.”

  Bishop recited the story he’d just heard from Stan’s secretary.

  The chief’s mouth dropped open. “You mean Bryant was saying that Stan was dealing? Damn hard to believe. Damn hard. But he did have that meeting with a known dealer, Perlin who left him a box.”

  “A box that was taken when Stan was shot,” Bishop reminded him. “Yep, that’s what she said. Bryant was accusing him of selling pot to the Dawkins’ woman. Could be Bryant killed Stan because he refused to cut Dawkins out. Or, if I wanted to broaden my look at it, Dawkins might have killed him because he told her he was going to cut her out.”

  “Son of a bitch. You could be right. It might all tie together. That may be why we haven’t been able to catch anybody. We’ve been looking at people we knew had been in the business. No way we would have suspected Thomas, if your information is worth a damn. And we wouldn’t have suspected the Dawkins woman for sure. Bryant’s a hothead and shoots off his mouth. Been in trouble with the law before.”

  “You told me. When he asked me to represent him in a case he thought the Dawkins’ woman was going to file against him, he sounded rough around the edges, so I’d have to agree with your assessment. Anyway, for what it’s worth, that’s what I just heard. Thought you might want to know it.”

  “I do. Hell, yes. I’m going to swarm all over both of them, the Dawkins woman and that asshole Bryant. That’s the first decent thing I’ve heard since I’ve been in charge of this damn drug task force.”

  “I hope it helps you crack the case, chief.”

  “You and me both. If I do, it’s a steak dinner for you and Kathy.”

  “I wouldn’t turn it down. And I know Kathy wouldn’t either.”

  The chief pulled out his cell phone and called somebody. “I want you to pick up Margo Dawkins and Elmer Bryant. They may be involved in this drug thing we’ve been trying to crack. Pick ‘em up separately and don’t let ‘em see each other till we question
them. We’ll question him first, then her. Okay?”

  He listened for a few seconds then said, “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I may want the City Attorney to sit in. Have somebody call him.”

  He swallowed the last of his coffee and stood. “I have to go, Bishop. Damn, I really appreciate what you’ve just told me. Sounds like it’s the real thing. I’ll let you know.”

  Bishop said he hoped it was. From what Stan’s secretary said, I’d put money on it being valid. As I suspected, it may even tie into the Stan Thomas murder. Could be Bryant killed him because he wouldn’t cut him in on the drug trade.

  Bishop finished his coffee and drove home. He knew Kathy would be coming out. The chief’s offer of a steak gave him an idea. He’d buy a couple and put ‘em on the grill. They’d be ready about the time she drove up.

  “Nothing else for me to do right now anyway. It’s in the chief’s hands. He may crack both cases, Thomas’ murder and the drug ring.”

  He didn’t figure Bryant would be easy to break but he was less certain about the Dawkins’ woman. From what he’d heard about her, selling drugs was a new thing for her. She might be scared enough to tell what she knew about the sale of pot in exchange for a deal with the City Attorney.

  “I’ll wait and see what the chief finds out,” Bishop thought as he headed for the butcher shop.

  After picking up the steaks, he detoured to the grocery store to buy potatoes to bake and veggies for a salad to have with the steaks.

  By the time Kathy rolled up, everything was practically ready to eat. He poured the wine and put the plates out.

  “Goodness me, Bishop. I think I’ll keep you,” she said with a chuckle.

  “I hope so. But you know grilling steaks is not something I do regularly, so they may not be up to your standards.”

  “Irregularly is okay with me,” she said and began cutting into hers. With the first bite, she said, “Perfect.”

  He took a bite too and agreed. “I thought they looked good in the shop.”

  He caught her up on his investigation and what Stan’s secretary had told him about Bryant.