Dead men dont remember, p.3
Dead Men Don't Remember, page 3
“Okay, but that’s still not much time,” I said finishing my beer. “Get us a complete description and as many recent photographs of Margaret as you can lay your hands on. Also, ask Teddy about any personal habits - likes and dislikes about her that he can think of. We’ll get Joe scheduled for his ski vacation and see what he finds on the slopes.”
“I’ll have that information in your office this afternoon,” Jack said throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the table and heading toward the door.
“What do you think, Boss?” Joe asked after Jack left.
“Go skiing and find Margaret. Don’t try to bring her back, just identify her and take a photograph if you can. Notify the local police wherever you find her, and then hustle yourself back to Memphis – sounds simple, huh?”
“Where should I start? I mean there are several ski resorts, you know.”
“Start in Vail and work your way down. If she’s there, I think you’ll find her in one of the nicer resorts – just a hunch,” I added.
“Okay, will do,” Joe said as we got up and headed toward the door.
“And the other answer is NO,” I nodded when we walked outside.
“NO! What do you mean NO?”
“No, you cannot take Carmelita with you,” I laughed.
~
Back at my desk, I quickly grew tired of looking through the mail and the window envelopes that never brought good news. Marcie had placed this morning’s Commercial Appeal on the corner of my desk and I decided to take a break, read the paper and catch up on the news. I didn’t read far before I saw something that made me stop. On the front page and just below the fold was the headline:
‘HUMBOLDT CAR DEALER AND WIFE KILLED IN NEW YEAR’S EVE AUTO ACCIDENT’
Checking the details, I read that Bill Hunter and his wife, Ava, had been killed when their car left the highway and ended up in the Forked Deer River. I knew Bill, not well, but certainly well enough to be shocked by the news. It was a tragedy, and I knew the little community of Humboldt, Tennessee would be shaken by their deaths.
~
It was already after 3:00, and if I intended to make the ‘tea dance’ at the ‘Starlight Lounge’ I needed to be headed that way. On my way out of the hotel, I asked Marcie to send some flowers to the funeral for the Hunter family from ‘Drake Detective Agency’. I was still shocked by the news; maybe a drink would help.
~
My visit to the ‘Starlight’ was a short one; they were crowded and I just wasn’t in the mood. I finished my evening at the ‘Down Under’ catching up with Andy about his recent Christmas and New Year’s Eve party.
Sometime before midnight I took the elevator home, still trying to recall the last time I had talked with Bill Hunter – I couldn’t remember.
It was forecast to snow later in the week, and frankly, I wasn’t in the mood for more snow either. However, as things were about to unfold, snow would be the least of my concerns.
Confusion
I didn’t sleep well. Perhaps it was the whiskey, perhaps it was the dreary weather or perhaps it was the shocking death of Bill Hunter and his wife. However, I was absolutely certain it wasn’t Carmelita’s fault!
Making my short drive to the Peabody, I was looking to the west and out across the Mississippi River toward Arkansas. I could see dark storm clouds already gathering on the horizon and knew that winter wasn’t over – we had more snow headed our way. The temperature had started dropping overnight, and it was already below the freezing mark when I walked into the lobby at 10:45 AM.
Marcie saw me enter, waved, held up one finger and pointed at the phone she had against her ear – letting me know that she needed to talk to me and would only be on her call for another minute. Standing in front of Marcie’s desk, and waiting on her to finish her call, I watched the maintenance workers and porters taking down the beautiful Christmas decorations that had been displayed in the lobby for the past couple of months. The end of a Christmas Holiday is always a sad time, where the only brightness is hoping that the next one will be another joyous occasion, and the assurance that it will ‘definitely’ be here before we expect it.
Marcie finally hung up from her call and peered at me over her glasses with cold steel blue eyes. “Sheriff Leroy Epsee has been looking for you. He’s already called a couple of times.”
“Okay, see if you can get him back on the phone, and have some coffee sent to my office. I’ll be there going through the mail I didn’t get to yesterday.”
Leroy Epsee was the Sheriff of Gibson County, which included Humboldt. He was a close friend of mine and I had the greatest respect for him – I believe he had that same respect for me.
I had barely taken a seat behind my desk when the phone rang. It was Marcie and she had Leroy on the phone.
“Hey buddy,” I said picking up the phone. “Have you recovered from your New Year’s Eve celebration? I’m sure Humboldt was one wild and crazy place.” I was teasing him, and I don’t think he appreciated it.
“Did you see the news about Bill Hunter?” he asked somberly and ignoring my question.
“Yes I did, and I’m sorry to hear it – both for his family and the community.”
“Well, now I have another one,” he said quickly and then stopped talking.
“What do you mean ‘another one’?” I was confused.
“Felix Mitchell was killed in a duck hunting accident yesterday. He went hunting alone, and when he didn’t return on schedule, his wife called and asked us to go looking for him. We found his boat, and then eventually found his body – floating in the river. Looks like his gun might have accidentally discharged; it wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“You’re kidding,” was all that I could think of to say.
“I am not, but I only wish I were,” Leroy said frankly.
“Wow. Do you need me to do anything?” I asked, having no idea what that anything might be.
“Nope,” Leroy said calmly. “I just know you knew these guys, and I wanted to make sure you were aware of the happenings.”
“Thanks for the information. I’ve already sent flowers for the Bill Hunter family funeral, guess I’ll need to order some more!”
“Yes, well,” Leroy stuttered, “I never know where you are or what you’re up to – so I wanted to deliver the news myself.”
“Thanks, Leroy, talk to you later,” I said hanging up the phone.
Strange happenings and Leroy sounded frustrated. I knew the background of these two, I knew the ties they had with the community and I knew how their deaths would affect that small town. I also understood Leroy’s concern, and appreciated him calling me. The death of one town leader was a shock; the death of two was devastating.
~
I was still deep in my thoughts when Joe entered through the door that joins our two offices. He was wearing a bright red ski outfit, matching gloves and matching hat – he looked sharp!
“What do you think, Boss?” he asked, whirling around my office like he was in a fashion show.
“I think you’ll be the king of the slopes,” I nodded. “Did you get enough information and detail from Jack? Enough that you can find Mrs. Margaret Novack, assuming she’s alive and out playing in the snow?”
“I believe so. Jack brought over a couple of family photo albums and even some old home movies of Margaret when she was younger. There is even one of her skiing somewhere out in the Rocky Mountains, and she’s a pretty good skier. I might need to take a few lessons when I get out there.”
“You’ll do fine, I’m sure. Just find her, if she’s out there, and then get yourself back here.”
“Will do, Boss. Jack also had Teddy Novack write a pretty detailed personal description of Margaret, including what she liked to drink, favorite foods, favorite color etc. If she’s on the ski slopes of Colorado, I’ll find her,” Joe said with confidence.
“When are you leaving?”
“I have a flight at two o’clock – Memphis to Denver and then a shuttle over to Eagle Airport at Vail. I figured it would be cheaper to fly commercial rather than take my plane, which makes it easier on Jack’s budget.”
“Good thinking,” I nodded. “Okay, you know the routine. I want to hear from you daily with a status.”
“Where are you going to be, Boss? Do you know?”
“Here, as far as I know now. If I’m not, then Marcie will know how to reach me. Besides, somebody has got to stick around here in case Carmelita comes back!” I laughed.
“You leave Carmelita to me,” Joe chuckled as he headed toward the door. “I’ll handle that problem personally!”
“Have a good flight,” I managed to say before he closed the door behind him.
I turned my attention back to the mail and the phone rang almost immediately, it was Marcie again.
“I’ve got Bert Sappington on the line,” she said quickly. “Do you want to talk to him now?”
“Absolutely, put him through,” I nodded to myself.
~
Bert Sappington represented Black Diamond Insurance and I had successfully handled several cases for them. They paid a 10% recovery fee plus all expenses, whether a recovery was made or not, and it was good work when I could get it.
“Happy New Year.” I shouted at Bert when he came on the line.
“Happy New Year to you, too. Have you recovered from the celebration?” he laughed.
“Not yet, but I’m thinking about working on that tonight,” I joked. “What’s up with you?”
“One of our Vice Presidents, LaMorris Person from Boston, is in town today and he wanted to check out Beale Street. Would you be available to join us for a sandwich and a beer – or whatever you might want?”
“Sure, I’m always an easy mark for a free burger and a cold beer. Where and what time?”
“We’re headed that way now. Meet us at ‘B.B. Kings Blues Club and Grill’ in twenty minutes,” Bert said hanging up.
It was only two blocks over to Beale Street, so I decided to walk and avoid the hassle of finding a place to park. Guess I had forgotten about how cold it was outside and also the dark clouds hanging over Arkansas and the Mississippi River. A light snow had already started to fall when I reached the front door of ‘B.B. Kings Blues Club and Grill’.
I spotted Bert Sappington sitting in a booth near the window and sharing the table with a large black man dressed in a dark suit. He waved when he saw me enter and I quickly walked over to their table.
“Carson,” Bert said standing up and introducing his table companion. “This is LaMorris Person. He’s a claims adjuster in our Boston office.”
“Very nice to meet you Mr. Person,” I said shaking his hand and sitting down next to Bert in the booth. Then I turned to look at Bert. “See Bert, I told you they were going to catch up with you one of these days. Do you need me to talk to Jack about defending you?”
They were both still laughing when the waiter came over and took our drink orders – beer for everybody.
“No, actually Mr. Reno, Bert is one of our finest investigators and he credits you with a lot of his success,” LaMorris said smiling.
“Please call me Carson, and I assure you, none of the success would have been possible without some slick work on the part of Bert Sappington. It’s always a pleasure doing business with ‘Black Diamond Insurance’.”
“Which is one of the reasons we drug you out into this freezing weather,” Bert started. “We’ve got a very sizable death claim with ‘Black Diamond Insurance’ as the underwriter, and we thought you might be able to give us some guidance.”
“How’s that?” I asked.
The waiter delivered our beer and then LaMorris spoke. “We’ve got a million-dollar death claim from a Humboldt resident, and that size of a claim requires special handling. It’s an accidental death, so it’s ‘Double Indemnity’ – double dipping on a million-dollar policy always gets everyone’s attention. Bert thought that since you were from Humboldt, you might know something about the insured. That kind of background is always helpful with our investigation.”
“Who was the insured?” I asked sipping my beer.
“Bill Hunter. Did you know him?” Bert asked.
“I sure did, but isn’t that a REAL healthy individual life insurance policy? I mean, that just sounds a little over the top – but maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about,” I frowned.
“It is unusual,” LaMorris answered. “But the policy was written as a corporate liability policy with the corporation named as the payee. The money goes back to the business and not to the family. The corporate payee is ‘Times 2, Inc.’ – you ever heard of them?”
“Nope, means nothing to me,” I said shaking my head. “Was this some part of his automobile dealership – perhaps?”
“No,” Bert answered. “He was adequately insured through the dealership and also carried a fair amount of other life insurance that will go to the family. This was something separate.”
“Sorry, I can’t help. I knew both Bill and Ava - not well, but I knew them enough to speak and have conversation at social events. Nothing other than that; and I’ve never heard of ‘Times 2, Inc.’. What does the corporation do?”
“It’s classified as a real-estate investment business and has several other shareholders – all from Humboldt. Each has a similar million-dollar policy, written through the corporation and payable to the corporation,” Bert answered.
“So this is a Humboldt corporation?” I frowned.
Bert and LaMorris looked at each other, and then LaMorris answered. “Not exactly. The corporate office location is listed as 100 North Main, Memphis, Tennessee – Suite 3512.”
“And?” I looked at them both.
“We checked that out today before calling you,” Bert answered. “That address is the office of a Mr. Phillip Reardon, Private Investigator.”
“You’re kidding,” I said sitting my empty beer glass on the table.
“We’re not kidding,” Bert said with a serious look.
“Well, I can help you there,” I started. “I know Phillip and he’s not a bad Private Investigator. He made a big name for himself a few years ago on a child kidnapping case, and has been doing pretty well since then. I run into him occasionally, but I certainly had NO idea he was doing any business in Humboldt – I am as surprised as you are.”
“Let’s get another beer,” LaMorris said waving at the waiter.
“Who are the other Humboldt stockholders in ‘Times 2, Inc.’?” I asked after the waiter took our order.
Bert retrieved his briefcase from under the table, and fumbled through several manila folders before pulling one out labeled ‘Times 2, Inc.’. He read off the list of names, and I guess the expression on my face must have said more than it should.
“What’s wrong Carson?” Bert asked. “Do you know something about these people that we need to know?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I do. And I think you better cancel that beer order and try something a little higher up the alcohol ladder. You’re not going to like what I’m going to tell you.”
Bert and LaMorris sat in silence, staring at me and waiting on what I had to say. The waiter walked up with our beers, deposited them and removed the empties, before scurrying back across the floor.
“Gentlemen, I don’t know what this is all about; I only know what you have told me here this afternoon. But, I have bad news and I have worse news, both of which I’m sure you’ll receive when you make contact with your respective offices. Sheriff Leroy Epsee called me about an hour before you invited me to lunch. He wanted to make sure I was aware of Bill Hunter’s tragic death, AND to let me know that another terrible accident had occurred yesterday. Mr. Felix Mitchell was killed in a hunting accident yesterday; they just recovered his body last night.”
Neither Bert nor LaMorris spoke, they just stared at each other in complete silence. I sipped on my newly delivered beer, waiting on one of them to faint or something!
Finally Bert picked up his beer and said, “Well, I guess one of us needs to find a phone and call our office.”
“I’ll do that,” LaMorris said before taking a healthy swig. Then he quickly got up from the booth and headed toward the payphones located at the rear of the restaurant.
When he left, Bert turned to me, “What’s going on here, Carson?”
“Beats me. You’ve given me a lot of information this afternoon regarding things that I didn’t know about. But remember – shit happens. I will admit that a four million-dollar pile is a pretty big stack, but it does happen.”
We sipped on our beer without talking until LaMorris walked back to the table. He was carrying three shot glasses full of whiskey.
“I hope whiskey is alright with everyone, because it’s certainly what I need. I checked with the office and they were notified this afternoon about the death of Mr. Felix Mitchell – a hunting accident. Paperwork is being prepared and the claim will be assigned tomorrow – I requested the claim to be assigned to you, Bert,” he said as he passed out the shot glasses.
We lifted our glasses in a half-hearted toast and I offered, “Here’s to ‘Double Indemnity’.” The joke wasn’t well received!
“Carson, will you help us with this,” Bert said sitting down his glass and turning to me.
“What can I do? You’ve got two accidental deaths, and unfortunately Black Diamond holds a big life insurance policy on both of them. I’m not sure what you want,” I said honestly.
“I want every ‘T’ crossed and every ‘I’ dotted before we turn these claims over for processing,” LaMorris said, holding up three fingers to the waiter and pointing toward our empty shot glasses. “We’re solvent and are prepared to pay these claims, but I want to be comfortable before I sign my name at the bottom of the checks. Carson, if you’ll help us, I’ll double your fee. And if you’re successful in reducing any amount of the claims we ultimately have to pay, I’ll double your commission on that too.”
“Now you’re talking my language!” I said with a big smile. “I don’t know what I can do, but you’ve got my attention! You’ll get all my effort and resources to try to add some clarity to this, and perhaps make it easier to swallow. That’s all I can promise.”
