Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set (61 page)

“What’s happening, Buck?” I knew, but asked.

“I’m protecting my investment. I got back here after I talked to you and saw a car sitting across the street looking at my property. They took off as I pulled up and got out to go see what the hell they were doing. You may have been right about that hooker, Jimmy.” He looked crushed, like she used him.

“Don’t take it personal, Buck. They do this crap every day to people just like you. Good thing you’re preparing for it.”

He smiled and handed me a piece of paper. It had a license plate number on it. “I guess hanging around a P.I. must be rubbing off on me. I got his plates.” He looked happy now.

“I’ll give this to Trapper and see what comes up. Just may be part of a car theft ring. Better yet, you call him and explain what is going on and ask. It might start good relations with the two of you.”

He didn’t say anything, but then smiled and said he’d do just that. 

The alarm installer called to Buck with a question and he went off to answer it. I stood looking at the yard where we had our party with the motorcycle club the night before Penny was kidnapped. Buck came back to me, and I told him about Doan and what I found out. I said I was going to check out his commercial makers and check a detail that might help my case. Buck said he’d join up with me later and went back to the installer.

I sat in my car and looked up the address for Marco Productions in the phone book I keep in the car. I drove out, headed to Sterling Heights, and found the building that housed Marco. I pulled in and went up to the entrance but found a note saying to use the side door. I went around to where the arrow led me and into the building. I came into a big hangar- like room where they were filming a commercial for some awning company. One man spotted me and came over.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“Yes, is Harvey in?” I replied.

“I’m Harvey. What can I do for you?”

“I got your name from your cousin Ken Reed. He said you film the Doan commercials.”

“Yes, we do, our biggest account.”

“Can we talk somewhere private?” I asked.

He led me to a small conference room and asked me to sit.

“I’m a private investigator, and I’m checking on a few things in regard to a case I’m working on. I was wondering if you remember the commercial you created with Doan hacking prices with a machete.”

“Oh, yeah, Doan loved that one. I think he got a kick out of swinging the thing. He was hacking at anything that wasn’t moving. I was a little worried he might hurt someone with it. The damn thing was sharp.”

“Do you still have that prop?”

“As a matter of fact, we don’t. When the commercial was finished, Doan wanted to keep the thing. Hey, after he spent thousands of dollars on the commercial, he could keep anything he wanted. So Doan has the machete.”

*

Chapter Twenty-seven

I said that was all I needed to know and thanked him for his time. He led me to the locked front door that led to my car. I sat in my car for a bit and then chuckled to myself. I pictured Doan swinging that machete around hacking at prices flying at him and screaming, “I’m slashing high prices so you can save big at Doan Appliances!” Guess it wasn’t the only thing he was slashing. I needed to find the machete, but where would it be? I was sure he would have disposed of it, so it could be in any number of garbage dumps or buried in a backyard. I thought about his fancy flower garden out back of his building and wondered if maybe he buried it there. I knew he had a thing for the weapon. Maybe he put it someplace nearby.

I was really hungry, so I stopped at the nearest Subway I could find and had lunch. I was mulling over my morning and wondering if I should go bother a judge about his involvement in the case. I thought about going to Penny’s studio and questioning the news people on the list, might just stir up some talk about the murder, but I didn’t really think they did it. I was really liking Doan for the killings. I took my time eating, just relaxing, then I finally finished my lunch, got back out to my car and drove to my office. I was surprised to see two patrol cars, one unmarked, sitting in my parking lot. I saw Trapper off to the side standing next to his car. He waved at me. I went over.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Well, Buck called me and told me about his run in with the hooker. I had to laugh to myself, I didn’t want to offend him. The plate numbers he gave me came up to a prior felon, Joe Michaels, a car thief, known to live in my town. I took a couple of men with me and we found a chop shop in his double sized garage. After threats of the rubber hose, Joe finally told me that he got his info for available cars to steal from a couple of girls who worked out of this office. So I talked to the Fraser police, and we conducted a little raid. Looks like you may not have your parade of babes anymore.” He grinned.

I was crushed. I enjoyed watching the girls go by. I looked at him and said, “I’m hearing about this rubber hose from you and Lawson. What the hell is it?”

He grinned. “It’s just the way we threaten a suspect with all kinds of torture and spending life behind bars. All talk, but it works.”

“Ah, I see,” I said as the Fraser police were escorting three beauties and one male to the waiting cars. Trapper said they’d be out by tomorrow, there was lots of money behind this operation. They’ll just go set up somewhere else.

About a half hour later the Fraser cops were gone, and Trapper and I sat in my office as I filled him in on my visit with Doan.

“I knew he was a little prick from his commercials,” Trapper said.

“Yep, and I would love to know where the machete ended up,” I offered. “Unfortunately, there are a million places he could have disposed of it, any number of box crushers in his stores, or just a drop in some garbage can alongside the road. It could even be in the St. Clair River by now. I wouldn’t know where to start, but I had one odd thought about his botanical garden out back of his headquarters. Might be buried out there.”

“Well, Lincoln has the power to do a search for the weapon, with a warrant, if he was doing his job. Maybe you should go talk with him. If he knows you know, it may force him to do something about it,” Trapper offered.

“After the way he was in the interrogation, I can believe he would do that. I can’t figure his place in this whole thing. Bruce and Melody never said anything about him and the blackmail. So far he hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary to look criminal. I’m thinking he thought his step-son was involved in the murders and was trying to find out, or to cover his ass, but that would be bad for Lincoln if he was found out. I can’t really say he was going to shoot that store clerk. He may just like holding on to his weapon.” I sat back and wondered.

“Well, he’s not one of the police department’s finest, but he is the man on the case. May need to bring him up to speed,” Trapper said. “Let’s go have a little talk with him.”

I looked at Trapper like he had offered to go into combat with me. “You want to go right now?” I asked.

“Sure, I did my duty today, broke up a chop shop, that should keep my captain happy for a day or two.” He grinned. “Besides, you haven’t annoyed Lincoln today, so we can rectify that situation.”

We went to our own cars and headed to Roseville. We were taken to Lincoln’s cubby hole. He grumbled, “What do you two want?”

I sat on the chair next to his desk. “Be nice. I have some info to share with you. If you are still on the Weston case.”

He was silent, then, “What?”

I told him about visiting Doan in the course of my investigation and the connection I made with the machete commercial and the machete death of Noreen. I told him that the commercial company said Doan kept the machete and the mood he was in with said machete. Lincoln just sat listening.

“Not bad, it’s usable,” he said. Then he sat back in his chair and looked at Trapper then me. “I know I’m not liked very much. I am a bit abrasive, more than I should be. But I take my job seriously, sometimes too much. After twenty-five years on the force, I’ve seen too much to make my stomach turn.” He looked at Trapper, who nodded back knowingly. “I hope this pans out. I’d like to go out with one good bust under my belt. I’m retiring when this is over. You really think that Doan may have the guts to pull off a murder?”

“I have a gut feeling myself that he knows more than he is admitting. The machete connection is what makes me wonder,” I answered.

“I’ll need to go talk to this commercial maker to get an official position on it. I’ll get back to you if I get a warrant, but where the fuck do I start to look for the weapon? He’s got a huge empire to hide it in,” Lincoln said.

“I got the feeling he wouldn’t get rid of it, but I could be wrong. I wish I could give you an answer,” I said.

“You’re a pretty snoopy guy. Maybe you could snoop around and find something that might help,” he said slyly.

“I could do that.” I paused, then asked, “Since we’re playing nice here, I need to know a couple things. Can we talk honestly?”

He sat forward again, and looked at Trapper then said, “Sit down, Trapper, get comfortable.”

Trapper pulled up a chair from the side and sat. He had an idea of what I was going to do.

“Let’s play nice, then,” Lincoln said.

“OK, explain to me the Weston photo fuck-up.”

“Just that, a fuck-up. The cop who started the case was handling it bad. His filing system was screwed up, and I got the wrong photos from him when they pulled him off the case. I read the files and went on my hunt without even meeting Weston, my first mistake. That barmaid couldn’t I.D. him from the wrong photo so I assumed he was lying. No evidence from the motel, so more lying assumed. I will admit I fucked up on that whole mess.” He went quiet again.

“Someone took a couple of shots at me and Marylou Martin outside the Midnight bar when I found her. What’s your take on that?”

“Don’t know, hadn’t heard about it till now. Did anyone else know you were tracking her?”

“Just the lawyer and Trapper. Weston gave me his info from the jail, so I don’t know if he talked to anyone else. I could have been watched and followed from going to Noreen’s office.” I paused, then, “Did Bruce have an interest in stopping Martin from talking, maybe to see Weston go to prison?”

“That kid is such a dip shit, he may have.”

“I shot out the shooter’s back car window. Did Bruce have a back window of his car missing?”

Lincoln’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, he said he was vandalized. I’ll take care of that with him, if I have to. He’ll face attempted murder charges. I don’t condone anything he did. Step-son or not.”

I hated to admit it, but I was sort of liking Lincoln about then.

*

Chapter Twenty-eight

“Well, if I find anything good to help get you a warrant, I think it would be good to go to Judge Mortimore. He’s on the list of blackmailed suspects, too. Just to see what he does,” I said.

For the first time since I’d known Lincoln, he cracked a smile. “Yeah, I like that too.”

“How’d you find out who was on the blackmail list from Bruce and Melody?” Lincoln asked.

“I saw Gregory put it on a desk and I kind of snooped a look, just to help my case.” I didn’t tell him Gregory knew I had it or that I took it with me. What I told him was good enough.

“You are good at snooping aren’t you?” He smiled again.

I stood and said, “Well, I’ll let you do your thing and I’ll go do mine.” I added, “I’ll keep you informed as to my progress.”

Lincoln stood, too, said he would, also, and held his hand out. I shook it and felt like a barrier was broken. Trapper nodded to him, and we left.