Big Sick Heart: A Detectives Seagate and Miner Mystery (19 page)

“Do you mind?” he said, asking permission to enter
the kitchen. He shook his head in wonder at the magnificence. “And the white
bronze inlays …” He was rendered speechless by her impeccable taste.

Dolores Weston turned to me. At the moment I was
considering which earth-toned surface would be highlighted most effectively
when I blew lunch, which could occur any moment now. “Your detective is simply
priceless, Detective Seagate.”

“He came out top of his class in interiors at the
academy,” I said.

“You kid, of course, but it is so rare to find a
young gentleman who notices the details.”

“We’re awfully proud of him,” I said.

“Well, I realize you didn’t stop by to look at my
lodge,” Dolores Weston said.

“Unfortunately, no,” I said.

Dolores Weston led us back out to the great room,
her low heels clicking on the flagstone. “Please take a seat, Detectives,” she
said, gesturing to an oversized cream Scandinavian leather couch as she settled
into a matching loveseat across from us.

“Your name came up in the investigation of the
murder of Arlen Hagerty.”

“Oh, that was such a tragedy,” Dolores Weston
said, shaking her head.

“It certainly was, Senator,” I said. “Can you tell
us how well you knew him?”

“I can’t say we were close friends, but I’ve
always been an admirer of his organization. I feel they do tremendously
valuable work. In fact, I asked him for Soul Savers’ support for my Senate
candidacy.”

“And he did support you, is that correct?”

“Yes, I am happy to say he did.” She smiled,
turning the wattage down a little, given that he was murdered a few days ago.

“Can you help us understand your relationship with
Henley Pharmaceuticals?” I said.

She looked a little surprised, but she recovered
quickly. “Henley is a firm based in New Jersey. They are considering building a
facility somewhere in this region. I’m hoping to convince them to build right
here in Rawlings.”

“How are you trying to do that?”

“You may remember that last year the legislature
passed—and the Governor signed—legislation offering tax breaks to out-of-state
companies that would set up shop in Montana and employ more than one hundred
people. I think this would be just a wonderful boost for our economy. There
would be jobs for the semi-skilled, university-trained, everyone. There would
be tremendous opportunities for consulting for the university faculty in
science and business. It would be win-win, all around.”

Ryan said, “Can I just get back to Arlen Hagerty
for a moment?”

“Of course,” Dolores Weston said, smiling and
turning to him.

“When did you last speak with him? Do you
remember?”

“Let me think,” she said, her brow furrowed, her
index finger on her chin. “Well, I know we spoke right before the election. I
was thanking him for the support from Soul Savers. That’s the most recent I can
remember.”

Ryan pulled the sheet with the phone records out
of a folder. “That’s odd, because I’m seeing a phone call from here to his
hotel room Tuesday afternoon.”

“Oh, Detective, yes. Yes, we did speak. I thought
you were asking about when I last saw him. Yes, we did speak.”

“Can you tell us the subject of your
conversation?” I said.

Dolores Weston looked flustered, as if she was
deciding whether to tell me it was none of my business. “Well, this and that,”
she said, pausing. “I thanked him for the support during the election—”

“You thanked him again?” I said.

“Well, yes. I see nothing wrong with that.”

“Me, neither,” I said. “It’s good to be polite.
Any other subjects?”

“I’m not sure, Detective. It was a brief call.”

I said to Ryan, “Do you have the length of the
call?”

“Nineteen minutes and forty-two seconds, it says
here.”

“Let me ask it this way, Senator,” I said. “Was
Henley Pharmaceuticals one of the subjects?”

“Detective, I cannot remember with any
specificity. It might have been. I know only that I considered Mr. Hagerty an
important colleague and supporter of conservative values.”

Ryan said, “Senator, have you ever given money to
support Soul Savers?”

“As a matter of fact, I have been a supporter for
some time.”

“Do you know how much money you have contributed?”
he said.

“No, I do not.”

“Is it five thousand dollars a month?”

“Really, Detective, I don’t see how my private
donations to a charitable organization are any of … relate in any way to your
investigation.”

I said, “Well, Senator Weston, we want to thank
you very much for sharing your time with us. We hope we don’t have to disturb
you again. And again, our condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you, Detective,” she said, rising and
standing very tall. “And Detective Miner, a pleasure to speak with you, as
well.” She offered her campaign-poster smile and led us out to the tall front
doors.

Back in the car, I said, “Nice question about the
five thousand bucks.”

“What do you think the chances are she was paying
him off?”

“Based on the look she gave us, I’d say a hundred
percent,” I said.

“Sampling error?”

“Zero percent.”

“Let’s say it’s her five K Hagerty was depositing,
why is she giving it in cash?” Ryan said.

“You answer that one,” I said, “and I think you’ve
got the motive.”

“If she’s just donating to his organization, she’d
give it to the organization, not him, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “And it’d be in a check, so she
could declare it on her taxes.”

“That’s what I thought. I thought she’d be smarter
than that.”

“Why, ’cause she’s rich enough to have a ‘great
room’?”

“Well, yeah, and a zinc countertop, and
wenge
-wood
cabinets,” Ryan said.

“What the hell is
wenge
-wood, anyway …” I
paused, holding up a finger as if I had just had an important insight. “Wait a
second, I just realized something: I don’t give a shit.”

The pampered horses receding in the rear-view
mirror, we headed eight or ten rungs down the socioeconomic ladder to our grey
steel desks in the tan-brick police headquarters. “We better go check in with
the Chief,” I said. Ryan nodded.

At his office, we were greeted by an icy “Yes?”
from Helen Glenning.

“We need to see the chief. It’s important.”

“I’ll see if he’s available.” She hit the intercom
button. “Detectives Miner and Seagate, Chief.”

As we waited for the chief’s decision whether or
not to allow us entry into the inner sanctum, Ryan whispered to me, “Notice I
get top billing?”

“Gee,” I said, “I hope this doesn’t mean he likes
you more than he likes me.”

Helen Glenning waved us in. The chief kept staring
at his screen for a long moment. Then he looked up at Ryan.

Ryan said, “Chief, we wanted to tell you where we
are on the Hagerty case.” He nodded for Ryan to proceed. “We interviewed
Dolores Weston.”

“Get anything linking her husband and the Hagerty
murder?”

“No,” I said. “She made it clear she wasn’t gonna
get into her husband’s death. And she’s right. From what we know right now, if
it was murder, it occurred in Maui, not here. Until it’s established she conspired
with the doper here in our jurisdiction, there’s no case in Montana.”

The chief looked like he wanted to get out of his
chair and just smack me. But since he didn’t say anything, I could tell he knew
I was right. After a long moment he said, “You get anything off the phones and
financials?”

“Nothing that helps with the husband—”

“Miner, you agree with Seagate?”

“Absolutely, Chief,” Ryan said.

The chief was a real son of a bitch, asking the
junior detective if he agreed with me. I wasn’t going to let him cut me out.
“Like I was saying, there was nothing that helps us with her husband getting
killed. But there’s a clear connection with the Hagerty murder. She was
withdrawing five thousand a month, cash, and Hagerty was depositing five
thousand a month, cash, into a private account. When we asked Weston about it,
she got evasive.”

“Why would she be paying him off?”

“We’re not sure,” Ryan said. “She said she
solicited Soul Savers’ support during the election, but that doesn’t add up
because she wouldn’t be using cash, and she wouldn’t be paying him to a private
account.”

“So give me another explanation.”

“We’re trying to track down another angle,” I
said. “Weston wants to get this pharmaceutical company, Henley, to build a
facility here. We think there might be something to that.”

“What’s that something?”

“We’re not sure, Chief,” I said, “but we want to
find out a little more about a new biology professor at the university who
might be linked to the pharmaceutical. It all might lead back to Dolores
Weston.”

“I just got a call from Senator Weston.”

I said, “That didn’t take long.”

The chief looked at me and said, “She said you
accused her of paying off Hagerty.”

 “Chief,” Ryan said, “nobody accused her of that,
or of anything else. That was my line of questioning. I asked her if she
supported Soul Savers. She said yes. I just asked her if she was giving them
five thousand a month. That’s when she got all flustered. We think we hit a
nerve.”

“All right,” the chief said, “but I want you to
connect the dots on the Weston murder and Hagerty.”

“Yeah, we got that,” I said.

*  *  *

Ryan said, “How do you want
to go at Lakshmi Something?”

“Let’s see what the Biology chair says about her
first. Then we’ll be in a better position if we decide to talk to her.”

Ryan found the chair’s number from the university
site and called him. He invited us over. On the drive to the university, Ryan
said, “I was sorry to hear about that girl in the accident. She going to be
okay?” It had led the morning news.

“Don’t know yet.”

“I’m really sorry it happened,” he said.

“Yeah, me too.” I kept my eyes on the road. “Me
too.” I was hoping he wouldn’t see me tearing up, but I think he did. He didn’t
say anything else on the drive over.

We entered the Life Sciences Building, on the
western corner of the campus. This was the corner the university had set aside
for new construction for the sciences and engineering. But with the economy
tight, the state hadn’t yet started construction. So the Life Sciences were
stuck in their 1960’s building, with its boring functionality. The classrooms
were old style, with the chairs bolted into the amphitheatre pattern. The
Biology Department was on the second floor. A young man greeted us in the
office and led us back to Marty Stenhouser’s office.

“Dr. Stenhouser, I’m Detective Karen Seagate, this
is my partner, Detective Ryan Miner. Thanks for making the time to see us.”

“Sure. Not a problem. Call me Marty. Everyone
does. What do you need?” He sat and gestured to us to do the same.

“We’re here about the Arlen Hagerty murder,
earlier this week.”

He looked puzzled. “Yes, how can I help?”
Stenhouser was tall, maybe six three or four. He had a long face ringed by an
explosion of curly white hair and a full beard. He wore rimless glasses, high
powered, that made his eyes look even bigger than they were. He was wearing a
cheap polyester sport shirt, short sleeve, exposing his thin, hairy arms.

“We want to talk about your new professor, Lakshmi
Kumaraswamy.”

He sighed. “Get in line. That’s what I’m doing
about half the time these days.”

“Really? Why is that?” I said.

“Well, we’ve had national media here to talk about
why the brilliant biologist turned down two Ivy Leagues to take a job at a
humble working-class state university. Then there’s my other faculty, who
aren’t thrilled she has a lighter teaching load and all kinds of perks they
don’t get.”

“We’d like your take on those two questions. I
don’t mean to be insulting—I’m sure this is a great place to work and
everything—but why did she take this job?”

Marty laughed. “You’re not insulting me at all.
Academia is a class system, just like the military. I know we’re Central
Montana State, not Stanford.”

“So how did you land her?”

“I’m not really sure, to tell you the truth. We
were surprised as hell when we got an application from her. You know, like it
was some kind of clerical error, you know what I mean? Some candidates just use
a shotgun to send out applications, but with her credentials, we didn’t expect
a letter at all. We assumed she would have worked out which school she was
going to choose without formally applying. So, anyway, I phoned her, just to be
sure she had in fact intended to apply.”

“And she had?”

“Indeed she had. She said she’d had informal talks
with our president. You know, President Barnum is working real hard to bring up
the reputation of the whole university. He wants us to become a Carnegie
research university, which calls for a certain number of students in a certain
number of doctoral programs.”

“So you think the president greased the wheels for
her?”

“I think the way I’d put it is the president asked
me to come over and chat with him about her application. He outlined the ways I
could be instrumental in putting us on the map—you know about her work in stem
cells—and how this is a great opportunity, and so forth.”

“In other words, he helped you pony up for her?”

“As chair, I have a budget for the hire, and I’ve
got to cover so many courses,
et cetera
.”

“Bottom line, what kind of deal did he authorize
you to make?”

“Bottom line,” Marty said, shifting uneasily in
his chair, “she’s making forty percent more than anyone else in the department,
including me. And she teaches one course per year.”

“What’s the typical teacher do?”