The Phantom Photographer: Murder in Marin Mystery - Book 3 (Murder in Marin Mysteries) (6 page)

Sitting behind the counter at Cook’s Camera and Film early the next morning, Michael wrote down the amount of Fred’s monthly payment times twelve. That equaled the tidy sum that he wrote on the back of an envelope, thirty-six hundred dollars. Not by any means a sustainable income, but a nice addition to what he was making at Cook’s. Best of all, this was all tax-free cash.
 

It was at that moment Michael considered taking what he had learned from this single act of revenge and using his photography as a means of extorting money from people who were simply selected targets. Three more Freds paying the same amount of money each month would yield over fourteen thousand dollars a year in found income. Better still, there was the excitement and the danger of the hunt. Michael wanted to relive that moment when he first showed Fred those incriminating photos. He was fully in charge, and he enjoyed that greatly.

Michael vividly remembered the way Fred’s mouth twisted in anguish when he realized that he was cornered and now needed to pay to keep the mess he had created from damaging his life and the lives of others. What choice did he have? He had been caught satisfying his carnal appetites, and for that Michael created a steep penalty. Being caught for killing his blackmailer was clearly a risk Fred was unwilling to take. His only regret was dropping the name of his employer into the mix. But what possible harm could come from that?

Any newly found source of income, however, could vanish in seconds. Fred, for example, might decide to leave Barbara and move in with his perky brunette. He could die suddenly; Barbara could as well. Secrets that are worth paying for one day can lose their currency the next. All the more reason Michael should play the extortion game holding several cards as opposed to one.
 

As long as you stayed in the game and did the hard work of following your prey, you should come out ahead. In addition to the financial benefits, there was the thrill of the hunt. All these individuals thought their adultery came with no strings attached. Between his skills with a camera and his insights into human behavior, Michael imagined himself a future master at this game. It was simply another form of hunting that he and Christopher had learned to enjoy. “Keep your target in your sight,” their father would say. “Track silently and execute with swiftness and accuracy.”

Michael took out his notebook and began to write down the steps needed to achieve his goal. He quickly came to one crucial decision: the first step in extorting money is to learn as much as you can about your target. He needed to know what they do, their routine, and where they should and should not be at a given point of the day. Before he tracked Fred, for example, he knew about his Sunday routine. Clearly, that one piece of knowledge was essential to his subsequent discoveries.
 

Working at Cook’s Camera, Michael knew many of his regular customers, and he knew the few friends he had made over the past year plus of living in Marin. He had gone out on a handful of dates, but none of them were girls he particularly liked, or more importantly, trusted. There was no denying that he lived a socially isolated life.
 

Michael was a naturally shy person, and that needed to change. Then an idea occurred to him. The camera that often hung around his neck or was slung over his shoulder was the perfect cover for a shy person to hide behind. Rather than joining the local Rotary Club chapter, the chamber of commerce, or serving in some capacity with various volunteer groups, his entire value to the community could be defined through the use of his camera.
 

When Milton returned from lunch, Michael put his plan into action.

“I’ve been thinking I’d like to get more involved with the community. Rotary, chamber, or any organization you would recommend.”

“I’m in both. And I’d like to see you do that as well. I would have suggested it before now, but I know you put a lot of personal time into your work here at the shop and into your photography.”

“Well, that’s the other thing I wanted to mention. I’m really excited about black and white photography for doing individual portraits and just shooting people in general. Would it be coming on too strong if I volunteered to act as photographer to one or both of those organizations?”

“No, are you kidding? I’d love it. I’ve been the go to guy for years and I’d be glad to share that work with someone I trusted to do a good job. That would be great.”

“Okay, then just let me know when and where the next meetings are. I’m excited about getting involved.”

Michael, imagining the potential rewards of his scheme, jumped in with enthusiasm. It took a little rearranging of store hours, because the chamber’s monthly meeting, like that of the Rotary, was during the day. Fortunately, the chamber was a breakfast that was usually over before their ten o’clock opening, and for the Rotary, they just announced that the camera shop would be closed the second Tuesday of every month between the hours of twelve and two, so they could both attend.

With a professional grade Nikon camera strapped around his neck, Michael was far less shy. Within a few months, to Milton’s delight, Michael was the go to guy for the photography needs of both organizations.

Michael, a careful observer and a good listener, spent the first few months wondering which of the many people he met might be worth the time needed for closer examination. The chamber had a fifty-fifty split between males and females. The Rotary, on the other hand, had two male members for every one female. He was confident that he’d have better luck tracking one or two male targets in both organizations. He then proceeded carefully in picking his first two candidates.

At the chamber, it was Marv Reagan, a man in his mid-thirties, who fit, in Michael’s view, the characteristics of alpha males he had studied while pursuing his major in anthropology.
 

In the Rotary, his choice was Paul Ablow, a forty-year old portrait of a self-made successful businessman with an ego as recognizable as his accomplishments.
 

Marv and Paul knew each other, both being longtime members of the community, but they avoided crossing into one another’s power base. Like two dominant gorillas, Michael reasoned, who had made the conscious decision to avoid each other’s power base. Marv was clearly the chamber’s go to guy, often talking over anyone trying to express a different point of view.

Paul’s rule over the Rotary was accomplished in less obvious ways. In his years at the club, he had held every one of its offices, and unlike the many business owners, who all had opinions to contribute at chamber meetings, Rotary was a lower key less aggressive group. Even those who may have thought that he was presenting his own arguments as the consensus of opinion allowed him to move forward without objection.

Michael suspected that Marv was involved in embezzling funds from the chamber’s two annual community fund raising events. Paul, he suspected, was subtler in his approach. Rather than outright embezzlement, Paul likely engaged in the type of soft theft that occurs when an organization’s purchases to provide food and drink for the executive board’s annual retreat also stocks your pantry and liquor cabinet for the year to come. After all, leftovers are unavoidable. Particularly when you order twice the food and drink you need.
 

But, above all that, Marv and Paul had one other essential qualification that made them worthy targets; both were married. Not knowing which of the two to track first, Michael flipped a coin, heads, Marv; tails, Paul. Marv won, or in this case, lost.
 

Unlike Paul, Marv was not a business owner, but rather managed a family owned auto parts retail store along Novato Boulevard. Michael pitched Marv and the chamber’s executive board the idea of an ongoing photo page feature in their monthly publication.

“I would take photos of a day in the life of a chamber member business. This becomes a feature that showcases the business and the people that make the place run, from the owners to the staff. I think it could help build membership, and I’d be happy to have the chosen company of each month’s feature use the photos in any promotional pieces they wanted to, as long as I got a photo credit line on that piece.”

Marv thought that a wonderful idea and proposed that his auto parts business be the series’ first feature.

In spending his day at Anderson’s Auto Parts, “Novato’s Choice for Quality and Price,” as the banner hung above their entrance announced, Michael got a closer view of Marv in action. He certainly had an eye for the ladies working in the company’s business office. There was Sheryl in accounting, a young blond with short hair and tight jeans, who Michael made a mental note to follow, and Sandy, also young, blonde, and well proportioned, who was sweet and accommodating to everyone, particularly Marv.
 

Michael made sure to take several shots of Marv with each of these two women to see if their body language or his actions might indicate that this was more than a casual friendship.
 

When, in preparing for a shot together, Sandy brushed aside with her hand some unruly hair back over Marv’s ear, Michael immediately sensed that these two had a deeper, more personal relationship. There was no overt behavior, just enough intimacy in their body language to arouse his further attention.
 

Michael knew that his observation and tracking of Marv and Sandy would likely be more difficult and time consuming than that of Fred and Nora. Clearly, there was a large degree of luck in the case of Fred. Particularly the deserted marshland behind his girlfriend’s house and their uninhibited enjoyment of a sunny day on what they foolishly assumed was a private view.

Regardless of the time it might take to prove his theory, Michael felt confident he had now picked up a trail of misbehavior on the part of Marv, and he was committed to following through. Besides, Marv, the auto parts store manager, had such a high opinion of himself, that taking him down a peg or two would ultimately be quite satisfying.
 

After two nights in which they went their separate ways after leaving work, Marv and Sandy headed out together on the third night. As he had on the two previous nights, Michael was sitting in his car in a grocery store’s parking lot across the street. Marv’s car turned left out of the parking lot and Michael started his car and hurried to catch up. Marv drove just a half-mile along South Novato Boulevard, where he turned into the parking lot of a popular Mexican restaurant.
 

After sitting in his car for thirty minutes, tired of hearing the Mariachi music and listening to the laughter from within, Michael decided to go inside. He had no idea what he would find. They might be nibbling on Nachos, or each other, or having drinks with friends from work.
 

Get in there, he thought. Do your job!
 

With a camera dangling on a strap hanging from his shoulder, he walked inside to discover a busy bar serving happy hour drinks and free cheese nachos, and there in the middle of the bar were Marv and Sandy with their legs casually entwined.

“Oh, hi guys,” Michael said cheerfully.