Murder at Naughton Pharms

CHAPTER 5 – SATURDAY 11:32 AM

  Lunch was a tuna melt, one of Kelly's favorites. As he sat with his mom at her kitchen table, he unloaded his feelings about being considered a suspect and having the news crew confront him in the parking lot.

  "You've done nothing wrong," said his mom. "There's really no reason for them to suspect you. It will all blow over."

  "But what if it lingers? Can you imagine me applying to become a policeman as a murder suspect? There's no way they'd consider me."

  She put her hand on his forearm. "Well, I suppose there's not much you can do about that. Just hope for the best. You'll do fine. You're a good kid. You're smart; you're thoughtful. Whatever happens, you can weather this."

  "Another option did come up today, but you can't tell anybody, okay?"

  "Okay, I think."

  "It's insider information, the kind of thing that shady stock traders would like to get their hands on."

  "Well, that's me – always on the phone with my broker, workin' those shady deals."

  "Yeah, right. Anyway, it looks like the company's going to be sold. And as part of the deal, the local facility would become a new independent research firm."

  "Are they selling because of the murders?"

  "No. The sale must have been in the works long before that. In fact, the murders could complicate things, maybe even put a fork in the deal, or the sale could happen without the spinoff. In that case, the place would close, and a whole bunch of us could be out of work."

  "You could lose your job?"

  "Yes, but on the other hand, if the spinoff does happen, they want me to stay on; said a promotion would be likely. In fact, they gave me a twenty percent raise yesterday, and hinted that there could be big money down the line, especially if they take the company public."

  "A twenty percent raise!"

  "Yeah. Pretty sweet. I’ll already be making as much as a rookie cop."

  "You might stay with them?"

  "It's tempting. I'm pretty good at the job; I enjoy it. And there is a lot of money in it. Everybody up in management drives a sweet ride, must be making loads of money."

  "It won't be the same company."

  "No, but independent research is a ripe field. And I'd be getting away from the stuff I don't like … the drug marketing and all that."

  "Well, isn't that a switch. All these years planning to be a policeman, and now this."

  Kelly could see his mom rather liked the idea. She hadn't been that keen on his law enforcement ambitions, but had ultimately been supportive.

  "No switch ... not yet anyway. I just never considered anything else before. I'm really not sure what to make of it. The money – that is tempting. But I’m still planning to take the Fargo entrance exams. Maybe I'll let fate decide. If I pass the tests, get through the application process, and they actually offer me a job, then I go that route. If not, maybe I go with the new company instead of law enforcement school."

  "Unless they close the place and you're out of work."

  "Right. When the dust settles, I might not have a choice."

  He thanked his mom for lunch, gave her a hug, and left for his apartment, feeling better about things. When he climbed from his truck, he saw Jerry the landlord take a furtive glance from a window, trying not to be noticed.

  Kelly went around to the common front entrance, but before heading up to his apartment, he knocked on Jerry's door. Kelly heard the chain go on before Jerry peeked out.

  Kelly chuckled. "You don't need the chain, Jerry. I haven't gone on a killing spree. The cops are just being thorough. It's routine."

  "Oh, well, sure, Kelly. Didn't know it was you at the door. Like to play it safe." Jerry made no move to remove the chain. He was a smallish guy with thinning light-brown hair that always seemed damp, lifeless and overdo for a trim.

  "So, how'd it go with the cops?" asked Kelly.

  "Oh, fine. They were real pleasant. Didn't say much."

  "Were they here long?"

  "Close to an hour."

  "I hope they didn't make a mess of the place."

  "No, they were pretty careful."

  Kelly knew Jerry wouldn't have missed a minute of it, watching the search with great interest.

  "Okay, thanks." Kelly started to turn away, and Jerry began to close the door, but Kelly turned back to him. "Jerry, you do realize the cops wouldn't let me wander around loose if they had any evidence I was involved in these murders, right?"

  "Well, sure," said Jerry, adopting an overly casual demeanor.

  Kelly eyed the chain that hung between them. "I called 911 on the first murder, and I found the second victim, so they naturally had to check me out."

  "Yeah, yeah. Just routine, like you said."

  "Okay. See you later."

  Kelly climbed the stairs to find Ted leaning on the banister of the second floor hallway, an amused look on his face. "Ah, the landlord's narrow brush with the serial killer." Ted spoke in a near-whisper, in case Jerry was listening.

  Kelly shook his head. "A couple hours ago, that wouldn't have been funny. I was pretty stressed out. Having the cops check you out in a murder investigation – that can ruin your day."

  "Coffee?"

  "Sure."

  Ted knew Kelly drank coffee at any hour of the day, seemingly impervious to the caffeine. Kelly sat at the counter that divided the living room from the kitchen as Ted tended to the single-cup coffee maker.

  "I told Detective Fedde that you asked me to observe," said Ted. "He was okay with that, but Jerry and I were restricted to the hallway, watching through the door. There were three officers, and I'm afraid they found your stash of kinky love toys."

  Kelly chuckled. "Yeah, and they probably took my explosives and the machine guns. You better hope they didn't find that photo album of you and that zebra."

  "A zebra?" Ted laughed as he put a cup of hot water in the microwave for tea.

  "I suppose it was stressful for Jerry to have the police searching one of his properties."

  "Oh, it made his day," said Ted. "He thrives on worry, as you well know. And it gave him the chance to tell me all about one of his renters, a single mom who took several thousand dollars from the store she worked at. She did it by entering phony product returns and keeping the cash. The till would balance at the end of the day, helping cover the crime, but of course the inventory would be off."

  "The inventory at Naughton is off by two executives."

  "Ooo, you are sick." Ted brought the tea and coffee into the living room. "Something to be said for humor in dark times. Helps us cope."

  They sat in matching overstuffed chairs at the corner of the coffee table. Ted's furniture was more elegant than expected in so modest an apartment. Kelly often wondered if the cancer that took Ted's wife had also taken a fair chunk of his money, possibly explaining why someone with Ted's professional history would be renting from Jerry Bidell.

  "So they searched your truck, too?" Ted sipped his tea.

  "Yes. And as I left work today, a TV reporter tried to corner me. She saw the cops going through the truck."

  "Oh," said Ted with a note of concern. "You've been outed."

  Kelly shrugged. "I told her it was just routine."

  Ted set his mug on the table. "Kelly, you could find yourself the lead story on tonight's news. Did they get your comments on camera?"

  "No. I was pulling away by the time they started shooting."

  "So, they have video of you."

  "Not much."

  "It doesn't take much. A few seconds of a suspect, or at least his truck, in the biggest murder story of the decade – that's important footage."

  "But I'm not really suspect!" protested Kelly. "It's just routine."

  "Technically, you are a suspect. You haven't been eliminated, right?"

  "You haven't been eliminated either, neither has that reporter."

  "Yes, but the police aren't searching our premises."

  Kelly sighed. "You really think they'll make a big t
o-do about it?"

  "Most likely. With slow motion and freeze frames, those few seconds can stretch out rather nicely. Does the reporter have your name?"

  Kelly winced. "Yeah. She saw my employee badge."

  "Well, unless she's a complete buffoon, she, or one of her cronies, will be showing up shortly. Maybe even at your mother's house."

  "I wonder if calling Sergeant Haugen would do any good. I think he believes me; maybe he can set them straight."

  "Maybe." Ted didn't sound convinced.

  "Shit. This just keeps getting worse."

  Ted looked at his watch. "It's not yet two, but they'll be under pressure to have something for the 5pm newscast. And once they break the story, the rest of the media will follow." Ted popped out his chair and went to the window overlooking the street. He parted the curtain. "Ah. Just as I feared."

  Kelly joined him. A photographer was setting up a camera tripod beside a news van. "Looks like the same photographer," said Kelly. "But I don't see the reporter."

  "She's probably ringing your bell. Or maybe Jerry's giving her a full report about your questionable nature."

  "I better talk to her, try to explain."

  "That might be good, but let me make some suggestions."

  After quickly formulating a game plan that drew upon Ted's experience in the news business, Ted went out to make contact. The idea was to keep Kelly out of sight, not giving the photographer an opportunity to get more video. Ted found the reporter and invited her in, making sure she left her wireless microphone behind, making sure the photographer couldn't record their audio. Ted brought her to his apartment and introduced Kelly. "This is Paula Keen, Eyewitness News 5."

  "We've met. Briefly."

  Paula was older than most of the young, underpaid TV types in the Fargo media market. Her voice was a little harsh and her face lined, but not with age ... a smoker, Kelly concluded. He invited her to sit on the love seat across from the matching two chairs at the coffee table.

  "I'm supposed to refer all media inquires to management at Naughton," said Kelly, "but I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

  Ted added, "And I've suggested that the conversation be off the record."

  "No, we're on the record," said Paula.

  "Well, can you at least promise confidentiality?" said Ted.

  Kelly added: "I don't want it getting back to management that I talked to you."

  Paula mulled it over a moment. "I think I've got a pretty good story as it is. An employee has his truck and apartment searched. And we have video of both." She let that sink in. "But I'd be delighted to get your side of the story. On camera."

  Kelly was disappointed that she knew of the apartment search. Maybe Jerry told her.

  "The problem," said Ted, "is that you'd be identifying an innocent person. I don't suppose you're old enough to remember Richard Jewell."

  "I'm afraid I'm plenty old enough. He was a policeman wrongly suspected of planting a pipe bomb at the Olympics."

  "Then you know the hazard of identifying the wrong person as a suspect."

  "True, but if I stick with factual information, my news director will green-light the story. We have video of the police searching the truck, and you've confirmed my guess that the police searched the apartment."

  "They did those searches with my permission," said Kelly. "They had no grounds for a warrant; nothing to suggest I'm involved in any way. I'm just a cooperating citizen, doing what I can to help them eliminate any possibility of my involvement."

  "So, why'd they single you out?"

  "I was the one who called 911 when Ron Kupmeier was found, and I also found Barry Heckathorn."

  Paula flipped open a reporter notepad and began writing, and Kelly realized he had just given her more to go on.

  "Even so," said Ted. "It's entirely possible that Kelly is just one of any number of employees being checked out."

  Paula looked up from her notes. "Oh, yeah? Who else?"

  Kelly and Ted exchanged a glance. "Well, I don't know," said Kelly. "That would be a question for the police."

  "Fair enough. But it's important that your perspective be part of the story. Let's get your comments on camera. It would be better if people could hear from you directly."

  Ted was shaking his head 'no,' but Kelly didn't need any coaching on that point. "No way. I've already said too much. Can't you just keep my name out of it?"

  Paula thought for a moment. "Make you a deal. How 'bout you give me your number. You can be one of my inside, anonymous sources going forward. Maybe that would sell my news director on the idea of preserving your anonymity."

  Kelly hesitated, looking to Ted, whose shrug suggested it was doable.

  "In fact," Paula continued, "Barring any new developments, like you getting arrested or the competition using your name, I promise to keep your name out of it and I'll be discrete with the video – nothing that identifies the truck or apartment as yours."

  Kelly straightened. "Okay. That would be great. You got a deal." He offered his hand and Paula shook it. He gave her his number.

  "So, what can you give me for today's story? It would sure help if I had something to replace you with."

  "Like what?"

  "What kind of questions are you getting from the police? What angles are they working? That sort of thing."

  "Well, let's see." Kelly thought for a moment. "There is a disgruntled former employee the police are trying to find."

  Paula began writing. "And?"

  "Well, I don't want to identify him. He's probably a long shot. I'll just say the police are looking for him in the oil patch."

  "A person of interest."

  "Yeah, that would be fair."

  "He works in the oil field?"

  "Last we heard, yes."

  "Anything else?"

  "You could say the police are going through company records, looking for employees and test subjects who might have a reason to be angry."

  Paula asked a few follow-up questions, but none that Kelly felt he could answer. She closed her notebook and they all stood. "One other thing. When you finally decide to talk, I want the exclusive." She handed Kelly her card.

  "Fair enough." He and Ted walked her to the door. "And maybe you could ask Sgt. Haugen about me. I believe he's pretty convinced I didn't do it. Maybe he'll say so."

  "He already did." She flashed a wide smile and headed down the hall.

  Kelly and Ted looked at each other as Ted closed the door.

  "She already knew," said Kelly.

  "Yes, she did."

  "She played us?"

  "I think so. She never intended to use your name." Ted smiled in admiration. "She's good."

  Kelly's cell rang. He read the caller ID. "It's Jessica."

  "Who's Jessica?"

  "Tell you later. Thanks for the help, and the coffee. Want to join me for the news at five?"

  "Sure."

  Kelly waved a farewell as he took the call and headed upstairs to his apartment.

  "Hey, Jessica."

  "Emily says a reporter asked about you, saying you're being investigated by the police; might be a suspect. I told Emily there was no way you were involved."

  "Thanks. Yeah, that reporter saw the police going through my truck. I just talked to her."

  "How'd that go?"

  "Pretty good. Ted, my neighbor, he used to work at the paper. He gave me some good advice on how to handle it. I've got my fingers crossed. The news at five should be interesting. How's it going at work?"

  "Still pretty crazy. The police have set up shop in the small conference room, going through the files and doing more interviews."

  "I bet there's a break in the case soon."

  "I hope so."

  "Can I bring anything to dinner tonight?"

  "No, but thanks for the offer. I'll see you at six."