Big Sick Heart: A Detectives Seagate and Miner Mystery (22 page)

“Want me to call her?”

“I’ll be happy to do it,” I said. I picked up the
phone, then put it back in its cradle. “One thing I did want to ask you about,
though. When we were out there at her house, how’d you know about that fancy
wood and the zinc whatever?”

“I’d Googled her, and there was this article about
her house in
Architectural Digest
. She was bragging about the
wenge-
wood
and the zinc countertops and the white bronze inlays.”

“You’re a crafty son of a bitch,” I said, nodding.

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, picking up my phone and
punching in Dolores Weston’s number. “Things are gonna get more fun now,” I
said as the senator’s phone rang. “Yes, can I speak to Senator Weston, please?
Detective Seagate, Rawlings Police Department.” I hit Speaker.

“This is Dolores Weston.” The tone was chilly.

“Senator Weston, Detective Seagate. Hope I’m not
disturbing you.”

“Well, I’m always busy, Detective. How can I help
you?”

“We need to talk to you a little more about the
Arlen Hagerty case. Some new information has come in.”

“Go right ahead, Detective, what do you need to
say?”

“We’d rather talk face-to-face, if you don’t mind,
Senator.”

“I’m right in the middle of something now,
Detective. Can you stop by early this afternoon?”

“I’m afraid we’re gonna have to ask you to come in
to headquarters, make a formal statement.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, Detective.”

“With all due respect, Senator Weston, the police
are authorized to require a person to come in to headquarters and make a
statement. We record it. That way there’s no confusion about what was said.”

“Are you suggesting I am a suspect in the murder
of Arlen Hagerty?”

“Absolutely not, Senator.” Ryan made a face that
said, Heavens, no. “It’s just that we need an official statement from you to
help us understand some things about the case.”

“Can you tell me what those things are?”

“They have to do with your financial relationship
with Henley Pharmaceuticals.”

“I see,” Dolores Weston said. “I’ll be at police
headquarters at 1:00 sharp. Please do not keep me waiting. I have a very full
schedule.”

“We’ll try to be considerate of your time,
Senator.” Dolores Weston hung up. “Seems like we got her attention.”

Ryan and I worked on forms for the rest of the
morning. He ate his bag lunch in the break room. I went scavenging through the
machines. We were back at our desks at 12:55.

At 1:02, I got a call from the front desk that a
Senator Weston was there to see me. I told the receptionist I’d be right out.

“Now, whatever you do, Ryan,” I said as we walked
out to Reception, “we mustn’t waste the Senator’s time.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “She has a very full
schedule, I hear.”

“Exactly. Accepting bribes is time-consuming, you
know.”

Senator Weston was standing there. No smile this
time. She had on a double-faced camel’s hair beret, a matching coat with
epaulets and a belt, and chocolate leather boots. She might be a crook and a
murderer, but hell, she looked like a million bucks. Next to her was a tall,
distinguished looking gentleman, about sixty. His eyes were dark and close set.
It wasn’t until I was up close I could see pale silver eyebrows and a one-inch
ribbon of thin silver hair on his translucent scalp. His overcoat was black,
with a velvet collar.

“Senator Weston, thank you for coming in,” I said.

Senator Weston offered a barely perceptible head
nod. The man by her side said, “Lester Ingram, counsel for Senator Weston.” He
didn’t offer his hand, so I didn’t, either.

“Detective Karen Seagate. Detective Ryan Miner.
Ryan, why don’t you lead the way. I think Interview 2 is available.” Interview
2 is the shabbier of the two interview rooms, the one with the handcuffs
attached to the top of the table. The ones in Interview 1 were attached under
the table and therefore less obvious.

“Senator Weston, why don’t you take that seat over
there. Mr. Ingram, I imagine you’d like to sit next to your client.” Dolores
Weston looked at the handcuffs as if they were silver snakes, then shot me a
hostile look. Good—nothing establishes a tone as effectively as a set of shiny
cuffs bolted to a steel table.

I hit Record on the tape recorder sitting in the
middle of the table. “We wanted to talk with you today about a couple of
matters related to the Hagerty murder. First, I want to inform you we are tape
recording this conversation. It is 1:04
pm
,
Monday, December 1. In the room are Detectives Karen Seagate and Ryan Miner,
Senator Dolores Weston, and her attorney, Lester Ingram.

“Senator Weston, we want to ask first about your
consulting activities for Henley Pharmaceuticals. Could you tell us what your
duties were?”

Dolores Weston said, “I’m not sure what you mean
by—”

Her attorney placed his hand on her forearm to
silence her. “Let me take this question, please,” he said. “For some years,
both here and in New Jersey, Senator Weston has been associated with Henley
Pharmaceuticals, providing various consulting services.”

I waited, like the lawyer was just getting
started. Apparently, he had just finished. “I’m sorry, Senator Weston. I asked
you what your duties were. What did you actually do for them? Did you, for
example, provide scientific expertise? Business consulting? What did you do?”

The attorney responded. “The nature of Senator
Weston’s consulting activities is covered by trade-secrets protection.”

“Trade secrets? You mean like the formula for
Coca-Cola?” I said, leaning in toward Ingram.

“That is one example of trade-secret protection,
yes. But the Senator is not compelled to provide specifics on the services she
provided.”

“Senator,” I said, “I’d like to establish a cooperative
tone for this statement, but I gotta tell you, when I play this tape for the
prosecutor, he’s gonna say, ‘Sounds to me like they’re paying her off for
something she doesn’t want us to know about.’ I mean, that’s the kind of guy he
is. So, I wanna give you another chance to answer my question about what kind
of consulting you were providing to Henley Pharmaceuticals.”

Dolores Weston leaned over to speak in Ingram’s
ear. He nodded, then said, “We’re going to stick with our previous statement.”

I put on a disappointed look, but I liked where we
were going. “All right. Let me turn to the nature of the consulting fees. This
last year, Senator Weston, you received on August 21 options to buy five
thousand shares of Henley stock, which that day was selling at forty-eight
dollars even, is that correct?”

Lester Ingram inhaled and leaned back, his large,
bald head rising. “I assume those facts are accurate, Detective. I don’t have
the paperwork before me.”

“Yes, Senator Weston, those facts are accurate.
Did you know those options were dated August 10?”

“Again, Detective, if you say so,” Ingram said,
looking at his watch to signal his annoyance that I was getting bogged down in
trivialities.

“Okay, just one more question on this point.”

Lester Ingram waved his hand indulgently, inviting
me to proceed so he and Senator Weston could leave. I said, “Now, if we were to
subpoena last year’s financial statements from Henley, would we discover that
those options were properly expensed at their current value—that is, the value
on August 21—or at their lower value—the August 10 value?”

“Surely, Detective, this is not a matter Senator
Weston could possibly have any knowledge of or, for that matter, any control
over. I cannot see why you are asking the senator this question.”

“Well, Counselor, I bring it up only to point out
that if we decide to get a subpoena for the Henley financials, that news will
certainly become public. If the public was to find out that Senator Weston
received almost a quarter million dollars last year from a drug company back
East for some consulting services she chooses not to describe … I don’t know,
it might not look so good. Add to that that the Senator is trying to get her
Republican colleagues to write in extra tax breaks so that Henley sets up shop
here …” I decided to just let that thought hang in the air for a moment.

“Detective,” Ingram said, “would you and your
colleague mind giving us a minute?”

“Absolutely,” I said. Into the tape recorder, “Mr.
Ingram has asked for a moment to confer with his client. It is 1:16. Detectives
Seagate and Miner are leaving the room.” I turned off the recorder. Ryan and I
left the room and walked into the passageway behind it. We looked through the
one-way mirror and turned on the speaker. Ingram looked over his shoulder at
the mirror. He and Dolores Weston continued to whisper to each other, too low
for the microphone to pick up. A minute later, he stood, walked over to the
mirror, and tapped on it.

We re-entered Interview 2 and I turned on the
recorder and spoke the time and names into it.

Dolores Weston said, “All right, Detective. Let’s
move beyond the innuendo and the threats. What do you want from me? What do you
want to know?”

“I take that as an indication you’re willing to be
a little more forthcoming. That’s good. But there’s one other fact I want to
put on the table before I tell you what we want from you.”

Lester Ingram said, “What would that ‘fact’ be?”
emphasizing the word as if he wasn’t willing to concede anything I said was a
fact.

“Remember, at your house, when Detective Miner
asked you whether you gave any money to Soul Savers, and you said you did, and
he asked if it was five thousand a month, and you didn’t respond? Do you
remember that?”

“I have a recollection of that, yes.”

“Well, I think we solved that little mystery. For
more than a year now, on the tenth of each month, you have withdrawn five
thousand dollars from your Wells Fargo account. And around the fifteenth of
each month, Mr. Hagerty deposited five thousand dollars into his First Colorado
account.” I was looking directly at Dolores Weston. “Do you want me to give you
the number of your Wells Fargo account?”

“No, Detective, that won’t be necessary. As I
said, those were charitable donations to Soul Savers.”

“Do you make charitable contributions to other
organizations, Senator Weston?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Do you make those contributions in cash?”

Lester Ingram said, “I will respond, Senator.” To
me, “The Senator is under no obligation to make the contribution in the form of
a check or to declare it on her taxes, which I am sure is your next question.
If she gave those contributions as cash, I am certain that was at the request
of Arlen Hagerty, who presumably desired it in that form so he could distribute
the monies easily to different accounts in Soul Savers according to his
discretion.”

I laughed. “I’m not sure a grand jury would find
that a persuasive explanation, Counselor, but, I gotta say, I enjoyed it.”

“Detective, what is the purpose of this fishing
expedition? Are you willing to tell us now what you want?”

“Well, here’s the big picture, Counselor. Someone
killed Arlen Hagerty. You know that, correct?” His face was impassive. “To help
us figure out who did it, we need to establish a motive. If Hagerty was
blackmailing Senator Weston, that could be a motive.”

“That accusation is outrageous,” Senator Weston
said, rising halfway from her chair.

“Please sit down, Senator. I didn’t make any
accusation. I merely said
if
Hagerty was putting the touch on you for
five thousand, that could be interpreted as a motive for you to kill him.”

“I will not tolerate this,” Dolores Weston said.

Lester Ingram touched her arm, signaling for her
to calm down. He said, “I’ll ask one more time. What do you want?”

“I want your client to explain to us, honestly,
what was going on with her and Henley and Arlen Hagerty.”

“And what consideration will you give the Senator
if she answers you candidly?”

“If she had nothing to do with Hagerty’s death—or
any other crime—I will thank her sincerely and personally escort her out of the
building. If she tells us, accurately, who killed Hagerty, but has committed a
crime herself, I will tell the prosecutor she was cooperative. But if she
committed a crime and makes us spend a lot of the taxpayer’s money finding that
out, I will recommend the prosecutor offer her no consideration. How’s that? Is
that clear enough, Counselor?”

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. She
spoke. “The payments from Henley were for my efforts to help them secure tax
breaks for building a facility here. Doing so would be to my constituents’
advantage because of the employment it would bring to Rawlings and surrounding
towns. Not one penny of the payments went to my personal use.”

“Where did they go?” I said.

“They went to campaign expenses.”

“In other words, that quarter million went to
defeat the Democratic candidate, who raised about a tenth of that amount. Is
that correct?”

“Detective,” she said, “candidates are permitted
under Montana state law and the U.S. Constitution to spend as much of their
personal funds as they wish for their campaign. It’s called free speech.”

“Oh, so those were your personal funds.”

“Yes,” Dolores Weston said. “Yes, they were.”

“Let’s move on. Arlen Hagerty was blackmailing you
for the support from Soul Savers.”

“That is absurd. We reached an agreement that five
thousand dollars would be forthcoming each month for his discretionary use at
Soul Savers.”

“Okay,” I said, “so we agree he was putting the
touch on you for five grand a month.”

“I want to go on record,” Lester Ingram said,
“that we disagree most strenuously with that characterization. Those were
nothing more than regular charitable gifts to Soul Savers, to enable that
organization to plan effectively.”