Brash Endeavor, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 3

  Chapter 24

  DEFENSE COUNSEL

  The next morning Rebekah's sister watched the kids while I took Rebekah to see her attorney, Ken Sherlock. Ken’s office was in an old mansion in McKinney that had been renovated and made into offices. It was situated on a heavily wooded street not three blocks from downtown McKinney and the Collin County Courthouse. We opened the front door and were greeted by the receptionist.

  "Good morning. You must be the Turners."

  "Yes, we're here to see Mr. Sherlock," Rebekah replied.

  The receptionist stood up. "I'll tell him you're here," she said as she began walking toward the back of the house through a hallway that, in days past, must have led to the kitchen. In a few moments she returned and invited us back to Mr. Sherlock's office. We followed her down the hall to a large office furnished with antique furniture, photographs of several Texas courthouses, the head of a fifteen-point buck, and a lunker black bass. Ken stood up when we entered the room and gave us a warm smile. We exchanged greetings and then got down to business.

  "Well, let me fill you in on what I know so far. I've talked to the DA and I think the evidence they have is a little shaky."

  "What evidence do they have?" I asked.

  "Of course, Rebekah's fingerprints are all over the room, but I told the DA that's to be expected since Blackbird Logan asked you to keep an eye on Sheila. Then there is the I-V bottle . . . her prints are on it too."

  "I checked the I-V to make sure it was flowing properly," Rebekah said.

  "Was it?" Ken asked.

  "Yes, it was doing just fine."

  "Apparently the murderer removed the I-V from Mrs. Logan's arm, contaminated the needle and reinserted it improperly so that she would go into shock," Ken said. "The person may have also injected something into the I-V solution or directly into Mrs. Logan's veins. So far the medical examiner is not sure exactly what happened."

  "Since we know Rebekah didn't do it, who else would have had an opportunity to kill Sheila?" I said.

  "It could have been anyone on the medical staff or anyone who was at the hospital that night. I suppose the logical person would be Bird Logan himself," Ken replied.

  "Do the police consider him a suspect?" I asked.

  "No, a lot of witnesses in the waiting room saw him during the evening and he was pretty distressed when he found out his wife had died. He's either innocent or a good actor," Ken said.

  "Maybe I should check into Bird's accident that night. Something seems fishy about it," I said.

  "If you want to help that'll be fine. Start with the police report, see if there were any witnesses, check out other people in the waiting room that night and look into Mr. Logan's past if you can," Ken said.

  "Okay, I'll be happy to," I replied.

  The receptionist returned with two cups of coffee and set them on the desk in front of us.

  "Other than Mr. Logan, do you know of anyone else who might have wanted Sheila dead?" Ken asked.

  "Well, Bird and his secretary had something going. I think she'll sleep better now that Sheila's dead."

  "Oh really, what's her name?"

  "Ah . . . Melissa something. I don't remember her last name."

  "Huh. All right. I'll get someone to check her out."

  "Anybody else?"

  "Not that I know of, but I didn't know Bird and Sheila that well. There could be others who wanted her out of the way."

  "Right. Well, as we learn more about Bird and Sheila perhaps we’ll come up with more suspects. In the meantime, what I need is a minute by minute account of what happened that night. You've got to think back and tell me every detail and, if you don't mind, I'm going to tape it so I can replay it later to make sure I haven't missed anything."

  Rebekah reiterated her story to Ken as he listened intently and took copious notes. When she was finished Ken stood up, grabbed a pipe and walked toward a window that overlooked the backyard. He lit the pipe and then turned to us and smiled.

  "Well, looks like we've got lots of work to do to prove your innocence Mrs. Turner, but I feel good about this case. I think we can beat this thing," Ken said. "Oh, there is just one thing I guess we need to cover though before you leave. I always hate to bring this up but I will need a retainer and a cost advance."

  "How much," I asked.

  "Well you know investigating a murder case can take a lot of time and private investigators don't come cheap. I think a five-thousand-dollar cost advance and maybe a ten-thousand-dollar retainer to start would be appropriate," Ken replied.

  "Well, I can give you a couple thousand right now, but it may be a few weeks before I can come up with the other $13,000. I can get it; it will just take a little time."

  "Pardon me for asking, but where do you plan to get it?"

  "Well, thank God all of our luck hasn’t been bad lately. We had an oil well come in a couple weeks ago and we're expecting a pretty good size royalty check coming in each month starting in thirty to sixty days."

  "That's good, I'll just take an assignment on your royalty interest to secure the payment of my fees."

  "You want collateral?"

  "Yes, don't take it personal. This is business. You're asking me to extend you a substantial amount of credit. If I were a banker you'd expect to give me collateral, right?"

  "I suppose?"

  "Well, until you've got the cash to pay me, I'm just like the bank. For every dollar I bill that you can't immediately pay, I'm making a loan to you."

  "Okay, that will be fine. I'll get with Inca Oil Company and draw up the paperwork."

  "Good then. I'll call you when I hear something about your case. In the meantime, don't worry about it. That's my job," Ken said as he stood up.

  After I got Rebekah home, I went to the police department and got a copy of the police report. Then I went to the office to study it. The police report did not list any witnesses, so I decided to put an ad in the Dallas Morning News asking if anyone observed the accident that night. I figured on a busy freeway someone had to have seen it. I wrote out a short little article for the weekend paper.

  H*E*L*P, IF ANYONE SAW THE ACCIDENT AT CENTRAL EXPRESSWAY AND ROYAL LANE ON MONDAY NIGHT, MAY 18, 1979, PLEASE CONTACT STAN TURNER AT 555-2222. REWARD.

  After I had placed the ad I went to my bank to see if the money had arrived yet from Kurt. It wasn't there yet, so I went to my office to try to get some work done. On the way there I pondered whether I should put a call into the bank's attorney, Mark Pointer, just to let him know the money was coming. After weighing the pros and cons I finally decided to make the call.

  "Oh Stan, have you heard from Kurt?"

  "Yes, and as a matter of fact I've got good news for you."

  "I could use some good news," Mark said.

  "Kurt is wiring May and June's payment to me in the next day or two."

  "Well that is good news. When can I pick it up?"

  "I'll call you just as soon as it comes in, hopefully tomorrow."

  "Okay, I'll send a runner over just as soon as you have the money in hand."

  "Listen, before you go . . . what's this FBI call I got?"

  "We're required by law to inform the FBI of any suspicious transactions. When we loan a couple million dollars and don't even get the first payment we get a little concerned."

  "Will you tell them to back off when you've got your payments?" I asked.

  "Once I get the money you've promised, I'll try, but once the FBI takes a referral it's not easy to call them off."

  "Please try, I've had a long talk with Kurt and he's going to fire his manager up in Amarillo and get someone else to oversee construction on the project for him."

  "I'll do my best."

  "Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it."

  As I was praying for the funds to arrive, General Burton walked in the front door. He smiled, said hello and then hurried into his office. I heard him dial the phone and talk excitedly to whoever he had called. When he
was done he came into my office and sat down in a side chair facing my desk.

  "Hi, Stan. How are you doing?" the General asked.

  "Better, things are beginning to turn around," I replied.

  "Good, I've been worried about you and Rebekah."

  "Rebekah's attorney seems to really know what he's doing. I think he's going to be good. All I've got to do now is find $13,000 to pay him."

  "Well, if you don't have the money I can introduce you to a good banker."

  "I appreciate that, but I'm supposed to start getting some money from Parker #3 pretty soon.

  "You don't happen to know any good contractors in Amarillo, do you?"

  "Not right off hand, but I can check around for you."

  "I am looking for a good finish out contractor to do a building rehab."

  "I know some brokers in Amarillo that I can call and maybe get a referral"

  "That would be great."

  "No problem."

  As we were speaking we heard the newspaper boy drop the Ft. Worth Star Telegram off in front of our office. General Burton got up, walked outside and picked it up. When he returned he was engrossed in a story on the front page.

  "What's so interesting?" I asked.

  "They've indicted Taylor Brown for the murder of his partner's chauffeur," General Burton said as he laid the paper down in front of me. The headlines read. "FT. WORTH BUSINESSMAN INDICTED FOR MURDER."

  "Damn, it didn't take them long, did it?" I said.

  General Burton picked up the story and began to read it aloud. "A Fort Worth grand jury today indicted Taylor Brown, a wealthy real estate developer and major shareholder of Thorn Enterprises, Inc. for the murder of his chauffeur, Ronald Sage. The alleged murder took place approximately six months ago near Brown's ranch in Johnson County, Texas. The indictment came about as the result of an investigation triggered by a tip from a Colorado sheriff. The informant said that Brown was involved in a conspiracy to murder Brown's mother-in-law, Melba Thorn, who at the time was the controlling shareholder in Thorn Enterprises, Inc.

  "Mrs. Thorn met a fiery death when her car spun out of control on Highway 24 near Florissant, Colorado. Authorities now believe that the crash was not an accident but the result of a conspiracy between Brown and the decedent's son, Robert Thorn, to gain control of Thorn Enterprises. Authorities report that they are looking for Robert Thorn to question him about the two murders but they haven't been able to find him as yet. In a bizarre twist the Ft. Worth Star Telegram has learned that the conspiracy was actually uncovered by a local attorney, Stan Turner, who claims to have received telephone calls from the decedent, Melba Thorn. The Telegraph has been unable to make contact with Mr. Turner for his comments."

  "Jesus, how did they find out about that I wonder?"

  "Your sheriff friend up in Colorado must have told someone."

  As we were speaking the door opened and two men came in. One was carrying a camera. Before anyone spoke the man with the camera said, "Smile" and then took my picture. Then the other one pulled a small tablet from his pocket and began talking and writing at the same time.

  "You're Stan Turner I presume," he said.

  "Yes."

  "Hi, I'm Walter Benjamin from the Ft. Worth Star Telegram and this is my photographer Paul Myers. I guess you read the story in today's paper," Mr. Benjamin said.

  "Well yes, just now in fact," I replied.

  "Is it true you were contacted by the ghost of Melba Thorn?"

  "Someone called me claiming to be Melba Thorn. Whoever it was said she was being held hostage and wanted me to help her."

  "Did you ever meet this woman who called you?"

  "No, she didn't tell me where she was being held," I said. "I searched for her but never could find her."

  "How did you crack the conspiracy between Brown and Thorn?"

  While I briefly explained to them what had happened, the door flew open and a television crew came bursting in the office. Following right behind them were other reporters and cameramen. Bedlam broke out and General Burton finally fought his way to a telephone and called security. In a few minutes several uniformed security men arrived and cleared the office. As the last reporter was escorted out of my office I looked at General Burton and began to laugh.

  "Holy shit! Can you believe that?" I said.

  "No, those bastards damn nearly destroyed my office."

  "I'm sorry, I'll pay for any damage."

  "Don't worry about it, it's not your fault. I'll send a bill to each and every one of them."

  General Burton turned around and limped back to his office. "You weren't hurt were you?" I asked.

  "No, I just pulled a muscle in my back wrestling with one of those gorillas," he replied. "I'll be all right."

  "Tell me which one it was and I'll sue him for you."

  "That's all right, forget it."

  The telephone began to ring incessantly. I knew the calls were about the story, so I disconnected the phone line. I wondered how long this was going to last. I might have to get an unlisted number if I ever wanted to be able to use the phone again. What if Kurt tried to call me and he couldn't get through or prospective clients called? Then I remembered I needed to call Inca Oil to arrange for my collateral. I plugged the phone back in the jack and quickly dialed before it started ringing.

  "Mr. Tomlinson, this is Stan Turner." For several seconds there was no response then finally Brice responded.

  "Hi, Stan. How's your wife?"

  "She's okay. Listen Rebekah didn't kill Sheila, I promise you."

  "Well, I guess that's the District Attorney's problem now, not mine."

  "How's Bird doing?"

  "He's pretty upset. He went down to Corpus to be alone for a while."

  "I am really sorry; Sheila was a wonderful person."

  "What was going on between you two, anyway?"

  "Nothing, we were just a little infatuated with each other, what can I say? Nothing really happened. I tried to steer clear of her since we were both married and I love Rebekah, but we just got out of control there for a brief moment, you know, with the well coming in and the party and everything."

  "I guess it's water under the bridge now. Why did you call?"

  "How's Parker #3 coming along? I need money for Rebekah's defense."

  "Didn't you get the letter?"

  "What letter?"

  "Parker #3 has been shut down."

  "What! Why?"

  "For about twenty-four hours we were getting some good production. There was quite a bit of salt water in the oil but that's not a big deal as long as there's plenty of oil too. We can separate the water from the oil and haul it off or drill an injection well. Unfortunately, the percentage of oil began to drop drastically until ninety-nine percent of what we were pumping out was salt water."

  "Oh shit! How could that be when the production reports said they were pumping out two hundred barrels a day of oil when the well was shut in."

  "Maybe there was an offset well drilled somewhere that we didn't know about."

  "Oh, my God, what am I going to do now?"

  "I'm sorry, Stan. It really looked like a good prospect."

  "Damn. . . . Well, okay, I'll talk to you later."

  "Oh Stan, under the circumstances, I think it would be better if we used another attorney for a while until this thing with your wife is resolved. Send me a final bill and I'll see to it that it's paid immediately."

  "Sure, bye," I said and then slammed down the phone. "I can't believe this."

  Just as I hung up the phone it rang. Forgetting momentarily that I needed to disconnect it, I answered it.

  "Stan, this is Jane Brown."

  "Oh, Jane. Hi. I'm sorry about your husband being arrested."

  "I guess we both have something in common now," Jane said.

  "That's true."

  "I just now read in the newspaper about how you've been investigating my mother's death," Jane said. "I take it then o
ur luncheon a few weeks ago was not really a social occasion."

  "Well, I'm sorry about that but I was at a dead end and needed some information in order to continue the investigation."

  "I just can't believe Robert and Taylor would kill Mom. I pray to God the sheriff is wrong and someone else did this horrible thing. I have been so sick since Taylor was arrested."

  "I hope you're not mad at me for digging into this mess, but I didn't know what to do when I kept getting those calls."

  "No, you did what you had to do. If Mom was murdered, then the persons responsible should be brought to justice no matter who it is. And, I want you to know that if it turns out Mom was murdered Thorn Industries will pay you for all your time and trouble in bringing it out in the open."

  "Thank you. I really appreciate that."

  "Let's have lunch in a few weeks, I want you to tell me all about your investigation."

  "Sure, give me a call when you'd like to do it."

  "I will, good bye."

  "Bye."

  The bad news about Parker #3 had drained every ounce of energy I had in me. It was only four o'clock but I was so wiped out I decided to go home. Rebekah and her mother were happy to see me home early, as they were beginning to run out of things to say to each other and the kids were driving them nuts. After Mom left, I took over entertaining the boys and Rebekah put Marcia in her high chair, so she could begin making supper. Rebekah was in too good of spirits to tell her about Parker #3, so I kept my mouth shut. I figured I would tell her when the time was right.

  That night I couldn't sleep, worrying about how I was going to pay Ken Sherlock the rest of his thirteen-thousand-dollar retainer. I remembered General Burton's offer to introduce me to his banker, but upon careful analysis I realized that would never work in my current situation. Of course, an obvious source of funds would be from relatives, but in scanning my brain for all known relatives with available cash none came to mind. I finally decided if I couldn't come up with the money I'd have to defend her myself.