Court Trouble Read online

“I’ll go there Monday.”

  “And you’ll need to start assembling Manny’s estate information.”

  A look of panic crossed Barbara’s face. “What for?”

  “Manny’s will should name an executor. You’ll need to work with that person on settling Manny’s financial affairs.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about his business dealings.” She turned to her sister. “Millie and I don’t have any financial background.”

  Mark watched her wring her hands again. “You should start with a good accountant,” he said. “Do you know who helped Manny with his taxes?”

  “I never paid any attention to who worked with him.”

  “You must have heard a name mentioned.”

  She put her finger to her cheek and wrinkled her brow. “Wait a minute. I heard a name. Something like Caulder or Coleman.”

  “Reagan Caldwell?” Mark asked.

  “That’s it.” Her eyes lit up, and she smiled. “That’s the name.”

  “I know him. A very reputable accountant. He’ll help you.”

  Then the smile disappeared from Barbara’s face. “But I don’t know what to do first.”

  Mark thought for a moment. “Since I know Reagan and have dealt with numerous financial issues, I’d be willing to assist you in starting the process.”

  “Would you really?” Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “Sure. Give Reagan a call. Tell him that you’ve authorized me to help with Manny’s estate, and I’ll give it a shot.”

  Mark returned to Manny’s office and rooted around the desk, finally finding a business card with Reagan’s phone number. He wrote it on two slips of paper, put one in his pocket and handed the other to Barbara. “Leave him a message on his voice mail today. I’ll follow up tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Barbara said, her blue eyes still surrounded by streaks of red.

  “Don’t worry. Manny did me a big favor once, so I’m happy to do anything I can to help. Now I have one difficult question to ask you. Who do you suspect killed Manny?”

  She looked like she might cry again. “I overheard Manny screaming at Ken Idler over the phone the day before he died. I think some problem existed between them.”

  CHAPTER 14

  On Monday morning, as Mark drove up Canyon Boulevard to the halfway house, he thought over what Barbara had said. She’d heard Manny swear at Ken Idler. She claimed this was not characteristic of him. But what had made Manny so mad at Idler? And how did it relate to the murder?

  As he entered the modified apartment complex, his thoughts turned to Raul Hernandez, ex-convict and ex-employee of Idler enterprises, who out of boredom or curiosity had agreed to this appointment.

  After signing in, Mark followed the receptionist to a room off the lobby. Moments later Mark and Raul sat facing each other across a card table. Raul had long, jet-black hair that fell down his back, a small goatee, gaunt, pockmarked cheeks and darting eyes. Looked to be in his early thirties.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” Raul asked, his feet tapping on the floor.

  “Yes, I’m investigating Idler Enterprises. I’d appreciate it if you could share with me the events leading up to your arrest.”

  Raul’s gaze bored in on him before he displayed a slight upturn at the side of his mouth.

  “Maybe you believe my story and not theirs?”

  Mark opened his hands. “I don’t know, but I’d like to hear your version.”

  “It’s like this. That asshole Ken Idler paid me to go pick up his smuggled dope. I didn’t know that only my name showed and not the company name. When it went down, the feds arrested me.”

  “Had you done this before for Idler?”

  “Yeah, he had told me to pick up two other deliveries.” Raul’s eyes smoldered.

  “Didn’t the authorities investigate the company’s activity?”

  “No one found anything to link Idler. He’s smart and let me take the fall.” Raul clenched the table as if he wanted to crush it.

  “Have you had any contact with Ken Idler since your arrest?”

  “No, and I never want to see him again.”

  “Do you consider Idler capable of murdering someone?”

  Raul laughed, showing yellowing teeth. “That bastard would rape and kill his own mother if he could make money from it.”

  After Mark left the halfway house, he sat in his car, his stomach churning. Pieces started to come together. Manny had an argument with Ken Idler, and, according to Raul Hernandez, Idler had nefarious business dealings. Manny may have been doing some consulting for Idler. Could these links have led to Idler killing Manny? He definitely needed to learn more concerning Manny’s relationship with Ken Idler. With Shelby out of the investigation, Idler became his responsibility now anyway. He’d start on that right away. In fact, his promise to Barbara Grimes might help turn up some new information.

  He extracted the piece of paper with Reagan’s phone number from his pocket, picked up his cell phone and pushed the numbers.

  “Reagan, this is Mark Yeager.”

  “Mark, I had a confused message from Barbara Grimes that you’d be contacting me. Something regarding Manny’s estate.”

  “Yeah. I stopped by her house over the weekend, and she kind of panicked when confronted with taking care of financial matters after Manny’s death. I said I’d talk to you and help out in any way I could.”

  “You, Barbara and I have our work cut out for us. Manny’s estate will be very complicated to sort out.”

  “How so?”

  “He had so many different business dealings. His taxes always presented me with one of my biggest challenges. It took me several weeks, but he always paid the fee promptly.”

  “Did Manny keep good records?”

  “Yes and no. Those he maintained appeared very comprehensive. But periodically I had to handle an undocumented transaction. That always posed problems.”

  “Why don’t we set up an appointment at your office? We can go through what needs to be done. I’ll ask Barbara to begin collecting the appropriate material.”

  “Works for me. How’s Wednesday afternoon? Say, two o’clock.”

  As Mark clicked off his cell phone, he spotted a platform tennis ball on the floor of the car and remembered an action item for the tournament. He punched in Ben’s phone number.

  When Ben answered, Mark said, “I want to discuss the tournament, but first let me tell you what I learned during my visit to Manny’s house over the weekend.”

  “Hold on. Before you launch into anything concerning the investigation, I have some bad news for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I want to see Manny’s murderer arrested as much as you do, but I have to pull out of the investigation.”

  There was a long pause on the line as if Ben couldn’t find the next thing to say. Mark kept quiet, waiting for Ben to continue.

  “My partner agreed to represent a new client today who has a legal claim against the Manny Grimes estate. Going forward I shouldn’t be involved in anything that smacks of a conflict of interest. Sorry.”

  Mark sighed. “I could use your assistance on this, but understand your problem.”

  “We’ll see each other three times a week when we play, if the courts remain at the rec center,” Ben said. “But no more powwows at Vic’s for me.”

  Mark felt his stomach tighten. First Shelby and now Ben. He’d have to do more of the fact-finding himself. He decided to discuss the tournament another time.

  Mark thought he should chuck the whole investigation. But he couldn’t admit defeat. In addition to solving the murder, he now felt a further compunction to help Barbara Grimes. He set his jaw. Her husband’s murderer should not be roaming free.

  Mark arrived for his lunch meeting at the Boulder Cork ten minutes ahead of schedule so he could be sure of being seated in the corner of the room. He asked the hostess to direct his guest to the table.

  Mark’s stomach rumbled. He hadn
’t been eating well with Sophie gone, mainly grabbing a sandwich here and there. He inspected the menu. Time to feast, he told himself. He decided he would order a spinach salad and Maryland-style crab cakes served with coleslaw and rice. Maybe even have mud pie for dessert. Saliva formed in his mouth.

  Right on time, a man in his late twenties, well groomed, thick glasses and a firm, serious expression on his face, appeared. David Randolf, the ex-Creo Tech employee, sat down facing Mark.

  “I’m doing some investigation of Creo Tech and Jacob Fish,” Mark began.

  “If there’s anything I can do to hurt Jacob, I’m your man.”

  Mark could almost picture a twenty-pound chip on David’s shoulder. “What makes you so bitter?”

  “The guy’s turned into a crook. I knew him as a brilliant software engineer when we started Creo Tech together. Along the way something happened. He hooked up with this other loser named Manny Grimes and, suddenly, things changed.”

  Mark sat forward in his chair. “How so?”

  “Instead of developing our own products, we began dealing with a suspicious company in Taiwan. I became more and more concerned. When I voiced my objections to Jacob, he fired me.”

  “Did you ever find out more information regarding the Taiwanese company?”

  “No. Jacob threw me out, flat on my ass. He didn’t even give me time to clear out my personal belongings. Illegal activity’s going on. I hope you nail him.”

  “By calling attention to this, aren’t you worried that you’ll hurt the value of any remaining stock you own?”

  “I made nothing on my stock. Jacob set up Creo Tech as an S Corp. The covenants said I had to sell the stock back at the current valuation. Jacob keeps the valuation artificially low for just such an eventuality. He’ll end up with ninety percent of the stock and sell it at a huge profit.”

  “Why didn’t you have someone investigate this suspicious company in Taiwan?”

  “I should have, but Jacob canned me too fast. Now I only want to distance myself from him and all he stands for.”

  Mark looked at this beaten man. “Do you think Jacob could kill someone?”

  David did a double take. “What makes you ask that?”

  “He’s a suspect in a murder.”

  “He’s definitely ruthless enough to kill someone. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  When Mark returned home, a message awaited him on his answering machine asking him to call Woody. He dialed immediately.

  “I have a problem,” Woody said.

  “Yes?”

  “My project at work reached a critical stage this week, and my boss wants me to put in extra hours.”

  “So?”

  “It means I won’t have much time for anything else. Something has to go. I have to choose between giving up platform tennis or the investigation.”

  “And I know you’re not going to forgo our regular game.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want to let you down, but I guess you’ll have to find Manny’s murderer without me. I’ll be willing to discuss it, but not put in the extra time to meet at Vic’s and do the leg work.”

  “All right. Why don’t you bring all your notes on Tuesday and give them to me? I’ve already done a little research on Westerfield Weapons, so I’ll take over Howard Roscoe.”

  Of the four who had agreed to help find Manny’s killer, Mark now retained sole responsibility for the investigation. Since the police hadn’t solved the crime yet, he felt an obligation to keep trying. He tried to assess his progress so far. Jacob Fish and Ken Idler headed the list of prime slime, having flunked the smell test. He needed to delve deeper into Lee Daggett and Howard Roscoe. First, Daggett.

  Mark called Ben. “What’s the name of the casino that Lee Daggett invested in?”

  “Hold on a moment. I’ll find my notes.”

  Mark looked out the window while he waited.

  “Here it is. It’s called the Taj Mahal.”

  Next, Mark picked up the phone and called the state gaming commission to investigate the Taj Mahal and its investors. A bored voice read a short bio on Daggett that indicated a position of president of Daggett, Inc., a Colorado company described as providing gaming consultation.

  A search of the Colorado Secretary of State’s web site indicated two directors for the company: Leland R. Daggett and Melinda S. Daggett. Mark remembered Ben describing a messy divorce. Maybe the ex-wife would be a good source. He found a listing and punched in the digits.

  CHAPTER 15

  Mark met Melinda Daggett for breakfast the following morning at Turley’s Restaurant.

  In stark contrast to Lee Daggett’s bull-necked, husky bulk, a diminutive, slender brunette greeted Mark. Up close, Daggett’s ex-wife appeared early forties, but could have passed across a table for early thirties just as well.

  Mark made a snap assessment and decided to jump right in. “I’m trying to obtain the background of the suspects in the Manny Grimes murder.”

  “Are you a private investigator or plain nosy?” she said, staring directly into his eyes.

  Mark gave a nervous laugh. “You don’t beat around the bush. I’m an unsanctioned, unofficial snoop.”

  She continued to stare at him. “In that case, I’ll consider talking to you under one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “First, you tell me what you’ve learned so far. Then I’ll decide if I’ll answer your questions.”

  Mark felt a bead of sweat running down his cheek as he realized she enjoyed testing him.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “I’ve learned of Jacob Fish’s involvement in illegal software dealings and Ken Idler’s in drug smuggling. I recently discovered that Lee invested in a casino and you used to be part of his corporation.”

  “And you think Lee might be involved in similar illegal activities, same as Ken and Jacob?”

  “It’s possible. He seemed to be in debt to Manny Grimes.”

  “Quite a group, aren’t they?” She smiled for the first time.

  Mark gave a sigh of relief. “I’m trying to piece together the backgrounds of the suspects and their possible motives. Would you be willing to share a little about Lee?”

  “Lee has nothing little associated with him. He does everything big. Big deals. Big fights. Big affairs. That’s what ended our marriage.”

  “Let’s start with his business. What is Daggett, Inc.?”

  “That’s Lee, period. He set up his own corporation so he could do whatever he wanted. It’s supposed to be a gaming consulting business, but it’s the shell for Lee’s gambling activity. Lee’s a world-class poker player. He’s won and lost millions. Sometimes he’s in the chips and sometimes he’s on the dole.”

  “And the relationship between Lee and Manny Grimes?”

  Melinda gave a bitter laugh. “It takes a crook to know a crook. They both came from the same mold. I would never have married Lee if I’d known his similarity to Manny.”

  Mark raised his eyebrows. “Obviously your experience with Manny differed from mine.”

  “To put it bluntly, Manny was a con artist. He had most people snowed.”

  Mark felt his cheeks turn warm. “I don’t understand. I’ve played platform tennis with Manny. He always seemed like a perfect gentleman.”

  “He came across that way,” Melinda said. “He put up a front, hiding a complete fraud. Most people had the same opinion you did. He even made a play for me, but I couldn’t stand the slimeball. His mousy little wife probably didn’t know the real Manny, who was great on outer appearances, but underneath, no good.”

  Mark took a bite of his California omelet and watched nearby diners for a few moments. He made a mental note to do some further research into Manny’s background. “Now, back to Lee.”

  “He had a real aura that attracted me,” Melinda said. “Slip in judgment, I guess.”

  “Did you know that he owed money to Manny?”

  “Only that they always had some deal cooking.”

 
“Any specifics you can share?”

  “No. Lee kept his business dealings to himself. But I overheard bits of conversations when they conspired together.”

  “What happened between you and Lee?”

  She bit her lip, then let out a deep sigh. “Lee’s a study in contrasts. When we first married, he treated me wonderfully. He had a sense of humor and a love of life. He did little things that I loved. He was a sucker when Girl Scouts came to the door selling cookies. He’d throw away twenty-dollar bills on cookies just as he did when he played roulette. We had boxes of girl-scout cookies stashed all over the house.” A faraway look shown in her eyes.

  “But that didn’t last?”

  “No. He has a dark side. He could just as easily put a box of those cookies on the floor and stomp them into powder. The worst of him came out when he started chasing other women.”

  “Do you think Lee could have killed Manny?”

  Melinda paused for a moment. Then she parted her full head of hair with her right hand to reveal a scar hidden high on her forehead. “Lee possesses a violent streak. He was a frustrated lineman cut from the squad at Florida State because he punched out the coach. After a year of marriage, when I told him to give up his outside dalliances, he beat me up and almost killed me. He’s knocked out countless men in bar brawls. He easily could have committed a murder.”

  Later that morning, Mark had an appointment that he dreaded. He needed to see Dr. Gallagher at the Boulder Medical Center for his next checkup.

  As he drove to the appointment, he pushed aside images of the violent Lee Daggett and recalled the whole sequence of events after Manny’s insistence that he have a checkup. First the suspicious lump in his prostate. Then the lab test indicating an astronomical PSA. He had immediately scheduled an appointment to see the specialist, Dr. Gallagher, who confirmed the diagnosis. Then the knife.

  When Mark arrived at the clinic, he sat down and paged through a medical journal. He had always skipped stories in magazines describing people recovering from heart attacks, strokes and cancer, viewing them as remote fiction, not applicable to him. Now these articles meant something. They portrayed him. He had transformed into a victim, trying to figure out his options—a patient at the mercy of the experts. His body had been invaded by an uncontrolled growth, and now he wondered if that growth had been completely eliminated.