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Sid stared at the status board, his feet propped on the desk. He shook his head and took a sip of lukewarm coffee. “We’re not ready,” he said.
“Despite that fact, the lieutenant wants a briefing,” Tom said.
“Fine. But why with the City Attorney?”
“Consider it a brainstorming session and, more to the point, something we must do.”
Sid shrugged and collected some papers from the worktable along with the pad and easel. Tom took down the summary pages from the wall, rolled them, and grabbed some large clips and two black markers.
“I hope the lieutenant made fresh coffee,” Sid said, walking into the common area.
The detectives set up their briefing materials on one side of the conference room as they acknowledged Palmer and City Attorney Mortimer Dunlap. The coffee pot in the corner was sitting half-empty with a non-illuminated ready light. Sid sighed as he sat down next to his partner.
Lieutenant Palmer said, “I know we’re still in the middle of both cases, but I want to get Mort in on the conversation. Give us the high-points and the direction you’re taking.”
Tom pushed his chair away from the table and moved to the pad, flipping the cover to reveal a summary sheet for Porter’s construction complaint. “We’ve talked to almost a hundred individuals in the construction business in Branson and Taney County. Although we found a clear indication that a good-old-boy culture is still in place, we saw no evidence of criminal activity until recently. Keep in mind this is one incident, which we haven’t completely verified, in a town with millions of dollars of active construction projects.”
Sid arranged some papers in front of the other men. “This is a sworn statement from a witness to an apparent bribery of a city inspector by an employee of Fortune Enterprises.”
Dunlap said, “But you haven’t verified the accusation?”
“We haven’t been able to find the inspector. His name is Brad Fortner and he quit abruptly a couple weeks ago. Ben Leatherman, who said the guy was a good inspector, did some analysis of the man’s inspection records.”
“Did Leatherman suspect anything?” Palmer asked.
“No, but after we spoke to Ben and filled him in on our witness, he decided to check it out. Over the last six to eight months, Fortner completed follow-up inspections that did not seem right. In Ben’s words, the initial rejection was followed up too quickly. The items being redone or corrected should have taken longer than a return trip on the same day.”
Sid said, “All of these anomalies were on Fortune Enterprises projects.”
Dunlap asked, “What about other companies?”
“None,” Tom said.
“Pretty weak without being able to talk to the inspector. Anything else on that case?” Palmer asked.
Tom glanced at his partner who shrugged and folded his hands in his lap. “We noted some tangential issues, which seem to indicate Larry Allen, the grandson of company founder Jack Brighton, may be up to no good,” he said.
Mort said, “I’m afraid you have way too many hedges in that statement, Detective Collingwood. Not much up-to-no-good case law on the books, I’m afraid. Do you have anything specific in these tangential issues?”
Tom shook his head, realizing any link to the suspicious fires by the lake was speculative at this point.
Palmer said, “You’re still working the bribery angle and hope to find the inspector?”
“Yes, sir,” Tom responded.
Dunlap said, “You can’t take what you have to the County Prosecutor. Let’s hope you learn more. A confession would be great.”
“Maybe that’s not a bad idea,” Palmer said. “Why don’t we have a meeting with Allen, ask him some questions, and see how he reacts.”
“Can’t hurt, but you’d have to be careful not to make flimsy allegations,” Dunlap said, glancing at Tom. “I’d be available for later today, if you can arrange it.”
Palmer asked, “Can you two put together some questions, including about the other suspicious activity?”
“Sure,” Tom said, but his heart wasn’t in it. Allen was not stupid enough to admit to anything based solely on innuendo or unsubstantiated information. Tom flipped the page on the pad to the summary sheet for the skeleton case. “We have DNA confirmation that the skeletal remains belong to Alexander Porter. He was reported missing by his wife in 1945.”
“Any relation to our complaint guy, Bryan?” Dunlap asked.
“His father.”
Dunlap raised an eyebrow but did not comment.
“We are still investigating his last-known activities and why someone would want him dead. Unfortunately, the only person talking is Bryan Porter, who was eleven years old in 1945. We do have a partnership agreement between Lex, as everyone called him, Jack Brighton, and Etta Stupholds.”
When the men finished reading the agreement, Tom said, “As you can see this could point to motive.”
“But?” Palmer asked.
“The agreement was created in 1942. These three were close childhood friends and it doesn’t make sense that the agreement itself would be a reason to kill him.”
Dunlap said, “I can tell you this document qualifies as a legal contract, in perpetuity, I might add. Bryan Porter would stand to benefit. First, we’d have to prove it is a document signed by these three individuals over fifty years ago.”
“Etta, admitted as much,” Tom said.
“To you?”
“To Kate Starling, a reporter at Tri-Lakes Newspapers.”
This time it was Palmer’s turn to raise an eyebrow and remain silent.
Dunlap said, “Sounds like you need to wrap up a few loose ends on that case before going to the County Prosecutor.”
***
TOM AND SID SPENT AN hour or so developing a list of questions to put to the councilman. Each question had an introductory narrative to make it seem like they had evidence for each item presented. Once the detectives finished a third draft, they took it to the lieutenant for his approval.
“Looks good to me,” Palmer said. “By the way Allen was all too happy to cooperate with us. He said he appreciated the opportunity to clear up any misinformation.”
“I’ll bet,” Tom said.
***
MORT DUNLAP AND DAN Palmer were alone in the conference room when the detectives arrived. Sid headed directly for the freshly brewed coffee and carried two cups back to the table.
“Thanks, partner,” Tom said.
Sid asked Palmer, “Don’t suppose we’ve been stood up by any chance?”
At that point the department secretary showed Councilman Allen into the room. Keith Hawthorne was close behind.
“This is our company attorney,” Allen said. “Granddad insisted. I hope you understand and don’t read anything into his coming along.”
“No problem,” Palmer said. “The idea here is to clear up some issues before we go further with our investigation.”
Tom took everyone’s silence as a cue to begin. He set up the first question with a brief summary of Porter’s suit against the city and complaint to the state of Missouri. After a couple of sentences, Hawthorne waved his hand above the table and said they were familiar with Porter’s claims.
“Good,” Tom said. “Are you also familiar with our construction tip-line?”
Allen and the lawyer said they were not.
“We set up the hotline primarily to allow construction workers to provide anonymous tips regarding issues in the trade around Branson. We received over a thousand calls, most of which reported what we knew ... that a strong good-old-boy network exists in Taney County.”
“No kidding,” Allen said with a snicker.
Tom continued, “But we did get several calls reporting more serious abuses at current job sites. The most serious involved a construction worker witnessing what appeared to be an exchange of funds between a general contractor employee and a city official.”
Hawthorne said, “Presumably the general contractor was Fortune Enterprises, since we are the company being questioned.”
Palmer said, “That’s correct.”
Allen squirmed in his chair and sat forward laying his hands in front of him. “First of all, we have no reason to pay a city inspector anything. We follow all codes. We cooperate in all plan reviews. We defer to all inspections. And before you bring up beginning construction before the permit is issued, I would suggest you consult with Leatherman, who gave us the verbal go-ahead.”
“Slow down,” Tom said. “The reason for this meeting is to inform you of this accusation and to see what you might do to clarify what was seen by our witness.”
“I’d say your witness was mistaken about what he saw or who he saw.”
Hawthorne glanced at Allen then addressed the lieutenant. “Has your staff verified this witness account with the city official? Have you identified the alleged company employee?”
Despite being excluded from the question, Tom responded, “The description of the employee matches your site manager, Paul Andrews. We did speak to him and he denies dealing with the city employee. Another gentleman on your team remembers the employee, who definitely inspected your project.”
“And the city official himself?” Hawthorne asked.
“Unfortunately, he quit. We’re trying to locate him.”
Allen started to say something, but Hawthorne placed his hand on the younger man’s arm and said, “We’ve responded to that issue. Do you have more questions?”
Tom brought up the visit to Kate’s house and suggested Allen entered without invitation and remained when asked to leave and acted in a threatening way toward the reporter.
Hawthorne said, “And are those the formal charges Miss Starling made against Larry?”
“She hasn’t filed an official complaint,” Palmer offered.
“Let us know when that happens,” the lawyer said. “Anything else?”
Tom decided against going into most of the questions he had prepared. Hawthorne’s presence clearly kept Allen’s temper in check. The young executive would not make a mistake—let alone a confession—today. Still, the detective felt one topic might be worth mentioning.
“A gentleman named Kyle Henderson, an out-of-state realtor-broker, has been making offers to purchase various properties in Branson.”
Hawthorne stood up. “That’s it. We are not interested in more fairytales.”
Palmer said, “Please, have a seat. This will be the last topic.”
Tom continued, “Henderson has closed on several residential sites over the last year or so. Those properties were sold to a holding company registered in Delaware.”
“This is Kate’s doing, isn’t it?” Allen asked. “Sure, I know about Henderson. Who doesn’t? He’s been calling or visiting folks for a while. But he has nothing to do with us.”
“And what if he did?” Hawthorne said. “Buying property is not against the law.”
“Maybe not,” Tom said. “Quite a coincidence that at least six of the owners who sold to Henderson were victims of rental-house fires. Perhaps you’ve noticed how many more fires we’ve experienced in the last year compared to a normal year. According to Fire Chief Scherington a couple of them were questionable, but not enough to suspect arson.”
“Are you coming to a conclusion soon?” Hawthorne asked.
“Here’s the strange thing,” Tom said with a smile. “The purchased properties are all along the Taneycomo lakefront in old downtown Branson. Henderson is listed as purchaser for twenty percent of the recent sales. If you add that to Fortune Enterprises’ current holdings in the area, the total climbs to thirty percent.”
“Are you saying Henderson is torching structures to make the purchase?” Allen asked.
“Possibly.”
“I’m afraid I don’t see how this concerns us,” Hawthorne said.
“Did I forget to say that Henderson named Councilman Allen as his primary contact in all his dealings in Branson?”
“Why would he do that?” Hawthorne said with a shrug.
“Probably didn’t want to take the wrap himself. After we discussed the suspicious fires, he decided to give us more information about his involvement in the land purchase activities.”
“We’ve addressed all your questions,” Hawthorne said, pushing away from the table and motioning for Allen to follow suit.
***
TOM RETURNED TO HIS office thirty minutes later when he, Sid, and Lieutenant Palmer determined they had only one course of action—to wait until something broke in the case. On his way in, the department secretary handed him an urgent message from Kate.
“I’d return it soon, if I were you. That was her sixth try to get you.”
“Did you explain that I was in meetings?”
“All six times. And she understood completely.”
“Right.”
He tried her car phone and office first, then her house, and finally found her in the motel office with her dad. When she came to the phone, he skipped the amenities. “For the record, you are not too easy to get in touch with either.”
“Where have you been?” Kate asked.
“I’m a cop, remember? I’ve been doing cop things, having cop meetings.”
“I have important information for you.”
“Can’t it wait? We’re having dinner this evening.” As soon as the words came out, Tom regretted them and his tone. The silence on the other end of the line told him his girlfriend wasn’t too pleased either. He said, “I’m sorry. Bad day.”
After a beat or two, Kate said, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry too. And you’re right it can wait. But since we’re talking now, can I tell you?”
He shook his head, but said, “What did you find out?”
“Please don’t say anything until I finish. Promise?”
“Katie, you know how I hate when you say things like that.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll give it my best.”
“I saw Bryan Porter today. He followed me to Etta’s. I can fill you in later. The most important thing is that Bryan knows the skeleton is his father.”
Kate paused, which Tom took as the cue to respond.
“Over the course of our investigation we’ve talked to Bryan a couple of times. He may or may not know we tested his cousin’s DNA. But he’s a smart man. I wouldn’t be surprised that he put everything together and came to a logical conclusion. I might add that a certain reporter made the same inference.”
The department secretary dropped a piece of paper directly in front of Tom. “Urgent” was circled at the top and “Boone County Arkansas Sheriff line 3” was underlined three times.
Kate said, “Did you hear me? That’s not all Bryan said.”
“I have another call.”
He punched line three before realizing he had forgotten to put Kate on hold. He cringed and shook his head, knowing he’d pay later and may never know what Bryan said.
“Lenny, what’s up?” Tom asked.
Lenny Harper had been Sheriff of Boone County Arkansas for over fifteen years. When Tom was in his teens the lawman, Roger Starling, and Tom were hunting buddies every November. The Branson detective had coordinated with the Sheriff on a couple cases since returning to the area. He hoped Lenny had good news, because the day could not get much worse.
“Got that notice on your Brad Fortner,” Lenny said.
“Have you seen him down your way?”
“Turns out we have. We got a call late last night from his ex-wife. Sorry to tell you, the man is dead. Shot twice. We finished at the crime scene about thirty minutes ago. I didn’t see your locate request until I got back to the office.”
“I was hoping for better news,” Tom said.
“Sorry, buddy. You’re welcome to come down and see what we took from the scene. Or I could send you my report when I complete it.”
“Sid and I will be down in a couple of hours.”
***
BY THE TIME THE DETECTIVES spoke to Lieutenant Palmer about Lenny’s news, made a few calls, and drove to the Boone County Sheriff’s Office, it was almost six-thirty. The sheriff briefed the two men and showed them the crime scene photos. Fortner had been shot twice in the back—once in the torso and once in the neck.
“Maybe I’m missing something. Doesn’t Sharon Fortner live in Harrison with her mother?” Tom asked.
“Correct. I haven’t been able to talk to her yet. According to the dispatcher, she was pretty upset when she called. She met the first responders at the location but left before I arrived. Told the deputy she’d be at her mother’s if we needed to speak to her. By the way, the house where he was found belongs to her family.”
“Do you have a time of death?” Sid asked.
“Best guess, based on the condition of the body and the blood pool, is sometime Tuesday, maybe Wednesday. We’re talking to neighbors and local businesses to see when he might have been spotted. Unfortunately, the nearest neighbor is about a thousand feet.”
“Maybe Sharon can help,” Sid said.
“Possibly. I’d say she or her mother gave him permission to stay at the location.”
“We’d like to go with you when you interview her,” Tom said.
“Figured as much,” Lenny said. “But she asked that I wait until tomorrow. You can either come back first thing in the morning or stay at a local motel.”
Sid shrugged and Tom said, “We’ll be at that little motel down the road.”
Lenny said, “One of Harrison’s finest.”
“Give us a call if anything comes up. Otherwise, we’ll see you at eight.”