Dead Down East (31 page)

“Ms. St. Claire, this is Lloyd Williams. I’m an aide
to the acting governor, James Frye. I am his special liaison for
energy policy. Governor Frye wants to connect with Maine companies
that deal in energy exploration and infrastructure. We understand
that you are one of the principal owners of both Northland Natural
Gas and Down East Pipe and Fitting. Is that correct?”

“Yes I am. I’ve known James Frye for years. In fact I
left a message with Governor Frye last Thursday hoping to have a
discussion with him,” she said.

“She moves right in,” I thought to myself.

“Would it be possible for us to meet privately
sometime soon?” I asked.

“Absolutely. I’m available anytime,” she said with
enthusiasm.

“Are you in Augusta?”

“I live here, yes. We have an office in town and
another near Jackman,” she replied.

“I have an important appointment today at two
o’clock,” I said. “We could get together either earlier in the
afternoon, or after…say…three-thirty?”

“Three-thirty sounds good. Where would you like to
meet?” she asked.

“It’s a beautiful day, and Capitol Park is near my
office. We could find a quiet place to sit and chat. If that’s
agreeable, we can meet on the east side of State Street at the two
short pillars directly opposite the State House. How’s that?” I
asked.

“That’s fine,” she said.

“Do you like coffee?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“How about a cappuccino?”

“Perfect,” she said.

“I’ll bring two cups. See you at three-thirty.”

• • •

After my conversation with Susan, I spent the rest of
the morning searching for information about the three owners of
Northland Gas. The first thing I read was an obituary for Robert
St. Claire. Susan St. Claire was listed as Robert’s wife. They had
no children. The notice reported, “Robert died unexpectedly near
Troy, Pennsylvania on March 12, 2008.”

I did some checking and located several news stories
relating to an accident that occurred at a natural gas drilling
site owned by Keystone State Natural Gas and Pipeline Company on
that day. Robert St. Claire was the only fatality.

A coroner’s inquest was held to determine the cause
of death. The report indicated that the hydraulic system at the
site had not been properly depressurized. It was operating at 1,500
pounds of pressure per square inch. There was an explosion.
According to two eyewitnesses, Mark Prichard and Aaron Miller, the
blast slammed a wrench into the side of Mr. St. Claire’s head, and
killed him instantly. Aaron Miller stated, “Robert St. Claire had
been holding the wrench at the time of the explosion.” The article
also indicated that Mark Prichard was Susan St. Claire’s
brother.

The coroner’s report was inconclusive as to the cause
of death. A grand jury took up the case, but failed to find
adequate evidence for an indictment. For legal purposes, the death
was ruled an accident, and Susan St. Claire was awarded a large
settlement under a life insurance policy.

One news story cited the corporate ownership of
Keystone at the time of the accident. Robert St. Claire had owned
65% of the stock, and Mark Prichard owned 35% of the stock. Susan
was the only heir to Robert’s financial interests, so she retained
the 65% holding when Robert died. The Pennsylvania Department of
State listed the current ownership of Keystone to be Susan St.
Claire - 55%, Mark Prichard - 30%, and Aaron Miller - 15%, which
happens to be the identical ownership distribution of Northland
Natural Gas in Maine.

• • •

Philip Hastings met me at the front door of the
Blaine House and escorted me inside to an office. Rebecca was
sitting at a large oak desk in front of a computer when I entered
the room. She was attractive and looked to be in her late forties.
She’s a relatively tall, thin woman, and was conservatively dressed
in a white blouse and dark brown blazer. She wore no jewelry other
than a wedding band. A gentle smile crossed her lips as I
introduced myself.

“Sit down, Mr. Thorpe. Richard Merrill and I spoke
earlier about your investigation. I understand you have been
interviewing some of the women who had intimate relationships with
William. Don’t be squeamish. Feel free to discuss these women with
me. To the extent that I can, I will speak openly about them. My
only request would be that you do your best to keep his
extramarital affairs out of the press. If something surfaces that
is highly pertinent to the murder investigation, then it will
almost surely come out, perhaps in a trial. I am prepared for that.
Just keep as much as you can out of the public eye. William was a
decent man and worked hard to govern in a balanced way.”

“Thank you Mrs. Lavoilette,” I said.

“Please, call me Rebecca,” she said.

I spread my notes and the spreadsheet on the table
and said, “Richard gave me a list of seven women who had affairs
with William over the past five years.”

I turned the list so that Rebecca could read it.

“If you would be so kind, could you take a few
minutes and read the notes about these women. I’d be happy to hear
any specific comments you might have. I’m particularly interested
in any of them who caused particular stress in William’s life when
the affair ended. Take your time.”

Rebecca read the list and showed very little negative
emotion. She didn’t appear surprised at all, and even chuckled when
she reached the bottom of the first page. That was where the “vamp”
entry was located. I suspected she was reacting to that particular
comment.

When she finished reading the second page, she looked
up and said, “I am familiar with all but one of these women. The
two that stand out for me are Cheryl Greenwood and Tina Woodbury.
As far as I know, Cheryl was William’s first affair. The notes
indicate that it lasted two months. That seems about right. As soon
as I confronted him about the affair, William broke it off.

“William had hired Cheryl as a secretary when he was
organizing a team for his first campaign. She was a beautiful
woman, about thirty years old, single and very intelligent. From
the beginning I suspected something, but I didn’t say a thing.
Perhaps if I had been more proactive, I could have nipped that one
in the bud, and things would have turned out differently. After I
discovered them—in the act, so to speak—my relationship with
William suffered a severe downturn.

“I don’t blame William entirely for this. I could
have been a more loving wife. He was very busy preparing for his
candidacy, and I felt left out of his life. I resented that. As a
result, I only rarely slept with him during the campaign. His
libido got the better of him.”

“What was Cheryl’s reaction when they broke up?” I
asked.

“I don’t really know. He let her go the next day, and
I never saw her again. William never spoke of her after that. But,
to tell the truth, I thought Cheryl was very sweet. I got to know
her briefly before I found them together. I can’t imagine her to be
involved in murder.”

“What about Tina Woodbury?” I asked.

“She gave me the creeps from the beginning. I never
liked her, even before their affair. Richard’s notes indicate she
had a temper. I noticed that as well. I never understood William’s
fascination with her, except if you believe the old adage that
‘opposites attract.’ She was pretty, of course, but she was very
controlling. Of all the names on the list, she’s the one I would
investigate thoroughly.”

“You said there was a name on the list that you
weren’t familiar with. Which one is that?” I asked.

“Susan St. Claire. I can’t remember William ever
mentioning her name. The comment that called her a ‘vamp’ is
amusing, but I wouldn’t know about that.”

Rebecca and I continued to review the list of names,
but there was not much more I could glean from that part of our
conversation. When I asked her to assess William’s political
enemies, she laughed and said, “Do you have a week?”

“Well, I suppose I could find the time,” I said.
“However, I was looking for some specific individual who was
especially hostile.”

She thought for a minute and said, “No single
adversary stands out.”

“I have an appointment at three-thirty with Susan St.
Claire,” I said. “I’ll follow up with your recommendation to move
Tina Woodbury to the top of the list. If my investigation begins to
run dry, I’ll call you again, and we can discuss some of his
political enemies. Generally speaking though, I am leaving that to
the FBI and the Maine State Police. They are better suited to
investigate leads of that nature.”

“You’re probably right. OK. So I guess we are done
for now,” she said.

“Yes. Thank you for your time, Rebecca. I appreciate
your candidness. I voted for William, and I thought he was a fine
governor. I hope I can be helpful in solving this case.”

She reached out her hand and shook mine warmly.
“Thank you,” she said.

• • •

It was three o’clock when I left the Blaine House.
The nearest Starbucks was a couple miles away. I had just enough
time to pick up two cappuccinos and get back for my stroll with
Susan St. Claire.

It seemed a little warm to wear a sport coat that
would cover up a shoulder holster, so I decided to leave my .38
Special in the glove compartment of my car. One chilling thought,
however, made my knees knock. There are grassy knolls throughout
the park. It’s been half a century since November 22, 1963, yet
even today, Americans can hardly imagine a ‘grassy knoll’ without a
sniper or two lurking in the shadows.

I stood inside the Maine State House holding two
cappuccinos and keeping my eye on the pillars across the street. I
wanted to observe Susan St. Claire before I met her. I also did not
want to be an easy target on the side of the road.

At three twenty-five, a silver Porsche 911 with
tinted windows stopped out front. A tall woman got out on the
passenger side, stepped to the narrow curb and stood casually next
to the pillars as the car pulled away. She was wearing a bright
violet blouse and cream-colored slacks. From a distance, she
appeared as elegant and self-assured as a fashion model.

I let her stand there alone for a few minutes to size
her up. She didn’t lose her composure for even an instant. She
looked like a woman with confidence to burn, like someone who knew
what she wanted and how to get it.

I took a deep breath and ventured across the street,
directly into the den of the lioness.

“Susan?” I asked.

“Mr. Williams,” she replied, giving me a slight smile
and a raised eyebrow. The lilt in her voice suggested she was
sizing me up.

“Call me Lloyd,” I countered.

“Lloyd,” she responded, somewhere between acceptance
and doubt.

Like a chess match, we began with standard
openings.

“With or without sugar?” I asked, holding the two
cups forward on her right and her left.

“Without,” she replied.

I handed her the cup in my right hand.

“Thank you,” she said in a robotic monotone.

“Let’s find a quiet place in the shade. It’s warm
today,” I offered. But in reality, I was thinking, “I’m an easy
target in the sun.”

We walked down the stone steps and across a patch of
grass to the gravel pathway.

“There’s a bench under a tree by the Vietnam Veterans
Memorial,” I said. “It looks vacant.”

We continued walking along the path toward the
memorial.

The most remarkable thing about Capitol Park was how
few people were there. A young man was throwing a Frisbee to his
dog on the lawn in the center, and a few other people were jogging,
but that was about it. Thirty acres of freshly cut grass lined with
trees, and only a few souls were enjoying it on this beautiful
afternoon in June.

Susan and I were alone with our coffees and our
cross-purposes.

As we sat down on the bench, I initiated the
conversation.

“Governor Frye extends his welcome,” I said.

“Very kind of him,” she replied.

“The Governor is concerned about the energy resources
in our state. He feels that the former governor did not adequately
anticipate our future needs. James Frye intends to shift gears, but
he is only the acting governor. There isn’t much that can be done
in the five months before the next election.

“Because of the sudden death of William Lavoilette,
the race for Governor is now wide open. As you know, James Frye is
running as an Independent, but he will need a quick influx of
financing in order to run a strong campaign. He is looking for
funding from the energy sector.

“Governor Frye is well-known around the state, but
elections are won and lost with advertising. If we cannot saturate
the airways, he doesn’t stand a chance of winning as an
Independent,” I concluded.