Big Sick Heart: A Detectives Seagate and Miner Mystery (23 page)

“And Arlen Hagerty and you came to this agreement
because he knew he would have a hard time selling his people on supporting
Henley because they’re into stem-cell research, is that correct?”

Senator Weston whispered into Lester Ingram’s ear.
He whispered into hers. She said, “No, there were never any discussions about
that. Any arrangements to encourage Henley Pharmaceuticals to locate in
Rawlings will be offered with the clear understanding that the company will
abide by provisions expressly forbidding the company to engage in any research
or manufacture of any product that could be used in human cloning or would
involve the destruction of any human embryos.”

“Senator Weston,” I said, “did you kill Arlen
Hagerty, or do you know who did?”

Dolores Weston’s eyes were on fire. “Detective, I
did not kill Arlen Hagerty, and I do not know who did. That is the truth, and I
will be willing to swear it, any time or any place.”

“Thank you. We are terminating this interview. The
time is now 1:31
pm.
” I switched
off the recorder.

Lester Ingram and Senator Weston rose from their
chairs, both looking a lot less pulled together than they were a half hour ago.
“May I ask you, Detective,” Ingram said, “whether you plan to bring the
financial information to the prosecutor?”

“We haven’t decided how to proceed yet.”

“Can you tell me when you plan to reach a
decision?”

“Can’t really say. It depends on other information
that may come to light in the course of our investigation.” I pulled a card out
of my bag. “I think the important thing is, like I said, we’re trying to figure
out who killed Arlen Hagerty. The sooner we can do that, the more consideration
we can offer anyone who helps us in the investigation. So, if Senator Weston
thinks of anything that can help us, I strongly encourage her to get in touch
with us.”

“Detective,” Senator Weston said, “I’m certain you
understand how damaging to my career any unfortunate publicity about my
finances would be. Although I would of course be able to defend—clearly and
honestly—my financial relationship with Henley Pharmaceuticals, doing so would
be very costly in terms of my time.”

“You mean you wouldn’t be able to do as much of
the people’s business if you had to spend time defending against the bribery
charges?”

Dolores Weston chose not to respond to my choice
of words. “I am simply saying I would appreciate your getting in touch with me
in advance if you plan to publicize that information. I hope you understand my
meaning.”

“Yes, I do. And I intend to do everything I can to
determine who killed Arlen Hagerty. I hope you understand my meaning.” To Ryan,
“Detective, would you mind showing our guests out.”

“Good afternoon, Detective,” Dolores Weston said
as she and her attorney turned to follow Ryan out of police headquarters.

I sat back down in the empty interview room. I was
pleased we had gotten Dolores Weston to concede she was taking bribes from
Henley. But I wasn’t sure I had convinced Weston that if she didn’t cooperate
in the investigation, I would subpoena Henley records to see whether the
company was fiddling with accounting law. If Dolores Weston had a chance to
think about it, she’d probably realize that was my strongest weapon: the threat
to embarrass Henley and make them pull out of any deal with Weston. She was
smart. She’d figure it out.

I went down the hall to the detectives’ bullpen.
Ryan was sitting at his desk. The chief was sitting at mine.

“My office. Both of you. Now.” The chief stood and
marched back toward his corner of the building. A couple of other detectives
looked on, curious. The chief didn’t usually plant himself at a detective’s
desk, which was smaller than his own. The chief strode into his office, the two
of us following behind.

“Anything?” he said.

“She’s been taking bribes from Henley
Pharmaceuticals. And she was paying off Hagerty for Soul Savers to keep
supporting her,” I said.

“I mean, anything on killing her husband?”

“No, Chief,” I said, “We didn’t go there. We’re
just working on the Hagerty case. The key is her arrangement with Henley
Pharmaceuticals. If we can get her to own up to killing Hagerty and she killed
her husband because he was gonna blow the whistle on the Henley bribes, we can
work with Maui to get her to deal down on the charges. But we gotta start with
what we’ve got, which is the bribes.”

“So why’d you have to bring her in for a
statement? I told you I want to move quick,” the chief said, “before the doper
kid flips on her.”

“Chief, can I talk with you in private?” The chief
waved his hand for Ryan to leave. My partner looked angry as he turned and
left.

“That was my decision, Chief,” I said. “Yeah, we
could’ve questioned her about killing her husband, but her attorney would know
we don’t have anything about that taking place in our jurisdiction. Then she
could go to the media and cry witch hunt when we push on the bribery and the
Hagerty murder.

“My way gives us more leverage. She’ll be so
scared we’re gonna go public she’s on the Henley payroll, she’s gonna be a lot
more cooperative with us. If she knows anything about the murder, she’ll deal
by giving it up so long as we keep quiet about her dirty money.

“Let me explain why I’m not doing this the way you
told me to do it.” I looked at the chief. The lines on his face recorded all of
his sixty-two years. Heavy lids half covered his small gray eyes. His pink nose
and cheeks were covered with tiny veins. “Here’s the way I see it,” I said. “I
understand you want to solve two murders and be the big hero, but my paycheck
says Rawlings Police Department, and I’m gonna work on the murder that took
place in Rawlings. When you give me evidence or even probable cause Dolores
Weston conspired—right here in Rawlings—to kill her husband, I’ll start working
on that case.”

“Let me give you another reason I’m doing it the
way I want to: I don’t give a shit about what you want. And I don’t give a shit
about pissing you off. You want me to quit? Fine, I’ll quit. But first I’m
gonna solve this goddamn case. And if you try to block me by pulling me off the
case or making me chase after the Maui connection, I’m gonna go straight to the
newspaper. I’ll lay out the money trail, and I’ll explain your role in
preventing me from doing my job.”

I sat down in the chair facing his desk, which
seemed to piss him off more than what I’d said. “You’ve got, what, thirty years
on the job? One more to go, right, to sixty-five? You remember when you got
your ass chewed out by the mayor for buying patrol cars from your
brother-in-law’s dealership? How do you think it’s gonna look, you keeping me
from getting to the bottom of the investigation of a dirty state senator?
People might think you were on Henley’s payroll, too. I wouldn’t conclude that,
personally, ’cause I know what a stand-up guy you are, but I couldn’t rule it
out, either. I’d have to be honest with the reporter. You see where I’m going?”

His hands were shaking with rage. “Just give me an
opportunity to fire you.”

I laughed. “I’m not gonna give you anything. I
just told you: I don’t give a shit about you. You don’t exist. I’m free. But
remember this: I go down, I’m taking you.” I was pointing a finger at him. “I’m
taking you with me.”

I got up from the chair, walked back out to the
bullpen, and plopped into my chair.

“What was that all about?” Ryan said, his tone
cold.

“I’m sorry, Ryan, it wasn’t anything I didn’t want
you to hear. It’s just I didn’t want to spray any shit on you. I told him if he
tries to derail the investigation or fire me, I’d go to the newspaper and
explain how he was stonewalling.”

“I could have been there for that.”

“No, there’s no reason for that. You’re there, he
might think you’re with me on it and try to hurt you, too. This way, I can say
honestly it was just me talking. You’re clean. You’re gonna be working here a
lot longer than I will. You should stay friends with him if you can.”

“This is our investigation, Karen. We’re
partners.”

“Yeah, and I’m treating you like a partner. And
you’ll get all the credit when we solve the case. But I want to protect you.”

He was angry. “I’m not looking for the credit. I’m
looking to be a good detective. I want to learn from you.”

“You’re already a good detective, and you’re just
gonna get better. But if you want to learn from me, learn this: keep your
distance from fuck-up detectives.”

Ryan shook his head, as if there was no way he was
going to get me off that idea. “You think Weston’s involved in hitting
Hagerty?”

“Not sure,” I said. “Obviously, she’s dirty, but I
don’t know if it goes any farther than that.”

“The way she was pleading with you not to divulge
the dirty money from Henley, it sounded to me like that’s as far as it went.”

“Yeah, could be. But it could just be her opening
move. We know she’s a little dirty, so she concedes that point. But who knows?
She could have something to do with the murder, and she’s waiting for us to
show her some evidence on that. Then she falls back to her next position.”

“And the tie-in to Maui?”

“Like I said to the chief, we work on our own
case. If they’re related and she sees she’s going down on one of them, she’ll
use the other one to bargain with.”

“Because,” Ryan said, “at that point her career is
over.”

“Yeah, at that point she’s just trying to avoid
the needle.”

Chapter 9

I looked down at the
blinking light on my phone. I listened to the message. It was Allen Pfeiffer
from the FBI. Call him right away.

“Pfeiffer.”

“Allen, Karen Seagate. What’s up?”

“You know that guy Timothy Sanders who flew from
Waco to Rawlings. I got an idea this morning and went back into the TSA
database.”

“Yeah?”

“Everything I told you about his flight from Waco
to Billings was accurate. But guess what? That wasn’t the only flying he’d been
doing recently. He flew to Billings on Sunday, November 23. Then he flew back
to Waco on Wednesday, November 26.”

“Holy shit. He was here in town when Hagerty was
hit.”

“I’m just telling you where he flew.”

“You know my next question?” I said.

“Yeah. He hasn’t flown anywhere since he landed in
Billings last Thursday and visited you.”

“Allen, what made you think to check the earlier
flight manifests?”

“Don’t know. Could be the way you said he made a
point of telling you about the flight that morning from Waco. It sounded like
maybe he took that flight to lay down an alibi.”

“I should’ve thought of that.”

“It was just a hunch.”

“Nice of you to say, but I should’ve caught that.
All right, you say he hasn’t flown anywhere. Does that cover all flights?”

“It covers everything, unless he arranged a
private charter and paid the guy not to list him on the manifest.”

“Allen, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate
this.”

“Forget it. Just get him.”

“You bet we will.” I hung up.

Ryan was hanging up his phone. “I tried his hotel.
He checked out the morning he came in and talked to us. Didn’t tell the clerk
what his next stop was. The clerk remembers he had a rental car. And no, he
didn’t leave a plate number on the registration form.”

“Okay,” I said, “call the rental companies at the
airport in Billings and get the specs on his rental car. Then put that on the
National Alert.”

“Got it,” Ryan said.

“And give me the number for Soul Savers in
Colorado Springs.”

I called Soul Savers first and, after climbing
most of the branches on their phone tree, got a woman who said they had not
seen him in months. I tried the Archbishop’s office in Colorado Springs. No
luck there, either. The Archbishop was booked solid the whole week, and his
calendar showed no calls to the Board of Directors, and no incoming calls from
Sanders to the Archbishop.

“Ryan, give me the number for Sanders’ home in
Waco, will ya?” I punched it in.

“Hello?” It was a man’s voice.

“Hello, this is Detective Karen Seagate, Rawlings
Police Department, calling from Montana. I’m trying to reach Timothy Sanders.
Is he in?”

“Did something happen to Timothy?”

“Nothing’s happened to Timothy, sir. Can you tell
me who I’m talking to?”

“My name is Stephen Friedl. Is Timothy in some
sort of trouble?”

“Mr. Friedl, I need you to calm down. I’m the
police detective in charge of the investigation of the Arlen Hagerty murder.
You heard about that, is that correct?”

“Yes, I did. But I’ve just been so worried about
Timothy.”

“Mr. Friedl, do you know where Mr. Sanders is now?
We’d like to talk with him.”

“No, Detective, I have no idea.”

“Can you tell me when you last saw him?”

“It was last week. I’m not sure what day it was.
Let me think. It was Wednesday, I believe. He told me he was going to meet with
Arlen Hagerty. I said, why not just call him. He said it had to be
face-to-face. I said, Timothy, you’re going to fly all that distance? I know
you’ve had your differences with Mr. Hagerty, but can’t it wait until the next
Board meeting? He said, Stephen, I know you mean well, but this is something I
have to do. It’s between me and Mr. Hagerty. I said to him, when will you be
back? He said he didn’t know.”

“And since then, has he gotten in touch with you?”

“No, that’s why I’m so frightened. We haven’t been
apart for more than one night in the six years we’ve been together, and he
always calls.”

“I see. Will you do me a favor, Mr. Friedl? Will
you give me a call the second you hear from him?”

“Of course, of course, Detective.” I gave him my
number.

Friedl said, “And will you promise to call me when
you find out where he is? This is just not like him. He’s always so
considerate.”

“I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure it’s just some
misunderstanding. Do you have a cell or some other number so I can call you?”

“Yes, certainly. I have a cell, and if I’m not at
this number I’m at the gallery.”

I took down his numbers. “Okay, Mr. Friedl, we’ll
be in touch.”

“Yes, please, Detective. Bye-bye.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Friedl.” I hung up.

Ryan said, “You buy that?”

“Yeah, I do. That kind of worry, you can’t fake
it. You hear the first thing he wants to know: if something’s happened to
Timothy. That was genuine. If he knew where Timothy was, he’d have been in
touch. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s the way I read it, too,” Ryan said.
“Okay, so what does the fact he’s gay tell us?” We were silent a minute. “I’m
not getting anything off of it. It doesn’t tell us anything about his
motives—whether he’d want to kill Hagerty.”

I said, “Even though Hagerty was anti-gay in his
politics?”

“Yeah, I know, but gays have been up against that
for so long they’re used to working with people like Hagerty. It’s not a motive
for murder.”

“Okay, does it tell you anything about where he is
and what he’s gonna do next?”

“His being gay tells me he’s gay,” Ryan said.
“That’s it.”

“Shit. What have we got? He’s not here, he’s not
home with his partner, he’s not at Soul Savers. Where the hell is he?”

Ryan said, “He probably doesn’t have any ex-wives
or dependents. Maybe he’s got other relatives? Parents, maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s an idea. How ’bout we check back
with Soul Savers. They might have some paperwork on him gives us a previous
address or something about a family.”

“I’m on it.” Ryan picked up his phone.

“Great. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” I
grabbed my leather shoulder bag and my coat and headed out to the parking lot.
The sky was grey, the patchy clouds hurrying across the sky. It wasn’t that
cold, but the wind was picking up, scattering dead leaves and debris in the
lot. I got in my cruiser and tossed my bag on the passenger seat. I took out my
cell and dialed the number.

“Pediatrics.”

“Hello, this is Karen Seagate calling again. Is it
possible for me to get an update on Annie Pritchard?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Seagate. Ms. Pritchard has asked
us not to give out any information over the phone.”

“Please, ma’am. Is Ms. Pritchard there? Could I
speak with her?”

“Let me see. Hold on.” I counted ten seconds,
twenty, thirty. Finally, the nurse came back on. “Ms. Seagate, I’m sorry. Ms.
Pritchard is not available.”

“Please, ma’am, could you tell me your name?”

“I’m Lauren Weddle.”

“Ms. Weddle, what do you mean when you say she’s
not available?”

“Ms. Seagate,” she said, her tone annoyed, “‘not
available’ means not available. You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“She’s there, Ms. Weddle, right? Please ask her if
she’ll come to the phone. Tell her it’s Detective Seagate. Ask her, please.”

“Detective, I did ask her. She knows who you are.”
The nurse’s tone softened. “She knows who you are. She asked me to tell you not
to call anymore. Not to come by.”

I sank. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, Detective. I’m very sorry.”

“Me, too,” I said softly. I folded my phone shut
but couldn’t get it back in my pocket before I lost control. Five minutes
later, I took a tissue out of my bag, rubbed off the smeared makeup, and went
back to my desk.

Ryan looked up at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“You sure? You want to talk?”

“I want to talk about Timothy Sanders,” I said,
taking a deep breath. “Did you find out anything from Soul Savers?”

“I couldn’t get anything from them about a family
or any dependents. I did get that he attended Loyola University Chicago. It was
more than twenty years ago, but maybe they can point us to a home address. Want
me to try that?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’ll be right back.” I
figured with Ryan noticing my face looked all screwed up, I should stop by the
bathroom and see if I could straighten it out. No sense frightening him any
more than necessary. I got back to my desk two minutes later.

“When he went to college, he listed a home address
in West Chester, Pennsylvania, outside of Philadelphia,” Ryan said. “He lists a
Gerta Skarzenski. I looked her up. She’s still there, same phone number,” he
said, passing me a slip of paper.

“Great, thanks.” I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Hello?” The voice was tiny and rough. I pictured
her as a small woman, maybe seventy or seventy-five years old, with a
cigarette.

“Hello, I’m trying to reach a Gerta Skarzenski.”

“Let me save time. Whatever you sell, I not buy,
so hang up now—”

“No, no, Ms. Skarzenski, I’m not selling anything
or asking you to donate any money. My name is Karen Seagate. I’m a police
detective in Rawlings. It’s a little town in Montana.”

“You say police detective? Why you call me?”

“Ms. Skarzenski, don’t be alarmed. Nobody’s been
hurt, nobody’s in trouble. I just want to ask you a few questions, if you don’t
mind.”

“Questions is fine, but my program is on in few
minutes. I talk to you, then my program is on.”

“That’s fine, Ms. Skarzenski. We’re trying to find
Timothy Sanders. Can you help us? Do you know where he is?”

“Timmy? No, I don’t know where Timmy is. Is Timmy
in trouble?”

“No, Ms. Skarzenski, he’s not in any kind of
trouble. We just need to talk to him about the Arlen Hagerty murder last week.”

“Someone murdered last week?”

“Yes, ma’am, Arlen Hagerty. The president of Soul
Savers, the organization that Timothy founded.”

“Oh, Soul Savers. Now, who was murdered?”

“His name was Arlen Hagerty, Ms. Skarzenski. You
don’t need to worry about that. I was just hoping you could tell me where
Timothy is.”

“I’m sorry. What is your name?”

“My name is Karen.”

“Karen, no, I don’t know where Timmy is.”

“Do you know where Timmy lives?”

“I think Timmy lives Colorado someplace. I’m not
so good with names anymore.”

“Ms. Skarzenski, when did you last hear from
Timmy?”

“Long time ago. Ten years. Maybe more. Long time.”

Ryan pointed to himself, asking me if he could
talk to Ms. Skarzenski. I nodded yes. “Ms. Skarzenski?”

“Who is that? Who talks now?”

“Ms. Skarzenski, my name is Ryan. I’m another
detective here in Montana. Can we talk for just a moment?”

“Okay, Ryan. But my program.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can, ma’am. Can I ask you
why Timmy’s last name is Sanders and your last name is Skarzenski? Was Timmy
adopted?”

“No adopted. Timmy my son. I don’t know why. Timmy
change his name a long time ago.”

“That’s interesting. He didn’t tell you why he
wanted to change his name?”

“No, I ask him. He tell me he just wants new name.
I go to courthouse with him because he too young to make paperwork himself.”

“How did Timmy’s father feel about changing his
name?”

“Timmy’s father gone a long time. He not there
then.”

“Do you know how old Timmy was at that time, when
he changed his name?”

“Just a boy. Twelve or thirteen, maybe.”

“About twelve or thirteen,” Ryan said.

“Twelve. I remember now. Bad year. I remember.”

“What happened that year, ma’am?”

“Bad, bad year …” Her voice trailed off.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Timmy was wonderful boy. Happy, friendly.
Everybody like Timmy. Then something happen. I don’t know. Maybe it was age,
you know kids change when they are teenagers.”

“Yes, I do,” Ryan said. “I’ve got a teenager
myself. I know.”

“Well, I hope your teenager doesn’t do like
Timmy.”

“How do you mean, Ms. Skarzenski?”

“Moody. Very mean to people. He spends all the
time in his room. I ask him what he is doing in room alone all the time. He
doesn’t tell me. He just say, ‘nothing.’ He wasn’t listening for music. Doesn’t
play with friends. Just terrible. Then the stuttering. So bad. I cannot
understand half of what he say. I hope he doesn’t have stutter anymore. He
never find nice girl if he stutter.”

“Did anything else happen that year, Ms.
Skarzenski?”

“All that was very bad, but then he stop the
church.”

“Was the church important to your family?”

“The church is most important thing, most
important thing. One day, he stop the church. He say he no go church anymore. I
ask him why that. ‘Because I’m not.’ That’s what he say. He is like I didn’t
know him anymore. I think on it now, it is exactly what I think. I didn’t know
him anymore. And now, I don’t know where he is now.”

“That church you attended, was that the Roman
Catholic Church in West Chester?”

“Oh, no, we don’t live in West Chester then.”

“Where were you living then, ma’am?”

“Wisconsin. It was so cold, the winters. It is
cold in Pennsylvania, but not like Wisconsin.”

“Can you tell me where you lived in Wisconsin, Ms.
Skarzenski? What city was that in Wisconsin?”

“It was Division Street.”

“What was the city, ma’am?”

“Oh, Milwaukee, in Wisconsin.”

“And that church you attended, do you remember the
name of that church?”

“Beautiful church. Very old, beautiful old church.
Our Lady of Mercy. Hill Street. Beautiful old church.”