18
Freddie and Terry (Teacup) arrived at the Hamilton home to be greeted by Bill and April. It was late morning.
“Sorry we’re late,” said Freddie. “Hope it’s alright that I brought Terry. We just left the Social Security office and I would have been even later if I had taken him home first.”
“Terry’s always welcome,” said Bill. “His input will be useful.”
Terry seemed pleased with that.
“Did you get signed on?” asked April.
“Yes,” said Terry. “A long wait, but it went real smooth once we sat down with somebody. I’ll start getting checks soon.”
The four gathered at the kitchen table.
“I know Bill comes and goes as he pleases, but are you off today, too?” asked Freddie of April.
“I’ve got lots of holiday and personal time.”
“Okay. We’ve got some decisions to make,” said Bill. “What are we going to concentrate on, now that the FBI has shut us out?”
“You tell us.” Freddie showed his disgust with the FBI.
“Well, the FBI seems to have settled on William Westerling as their suspect because the two killers they have in custody have told them he hired them.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Terry.
“Me either.” Bill shook his head. “I believe the two were instructed to implicate Westerling in the event they were caught.”
“So, we are looking for somebody else?” April wondered.
They all agreed, at least for now, not to pursue the same tack that the Feds seemed to have taken.
“I think we need to start with Max. I’m still sure Terry took money from him and Max was trying to get even,” said Freddie. “Max killed Rose and tried to set up Terry as a patsy.”
“So, who could have hired Max? Had to be someone with access to police arrest records,” said Bill.
“Not really,” said April. “Arrests and Arraignments are on Court websites. They tell you who was arraigned and on what charges. They also tell you if charges were dropped. Anyone can find potential killers by sitting in front of their computers.”
Silence reigned as the other three mulled that over. They knew April worked at a law firm and would know about such things. Bill, facing the windows and slider, surveyed the desert scenery as he thought. Several moments passed.
Finally, he spoke. “How would you tell which ones were guilty? Could the fact that not enough evidence is available to proceed to trial be enough? Wouldn’t the employer of the hit men need to narrow it down more than that?”
“I think you would have to hire a PI or someone to try to dig up more. By the time you approached someone to hire, you would need to be pretty sure he was really a killer. Not enough for an indictment, but more than the web sites tell you,” said April.
“A PI,” said Freddie. “Frank told me a PI was found shot in a Rio Rancho house recently. It was probably on the news, too. Name stuck in my head. Sam Peacock.”
“Could Sam have been hired to see what he could find on Max after his charges were dismissed?” asked Bill. “And then, maybe to hire Max?”
“Would Max be the one who killed him?” asked April. “Why?”
“Maybe he didn’t pay him,” said Terry. “Or maybe Max was tying up loose ends.”
“So, we have Max, who we’re pretty sure of, and Sam Peacock, who is a wild guess,” said Bill. “Where do we go from there?”
“Did Sam Peacock work alone? Did he have a partner, an office, a receptionist, an answering service? It’s hard to investigate an investigator,” said Freddie. “But I can find out everything the local police know about him from my brother Frank.”
“You still might want to visit Sam’s office, if he had one. The police may have overlooked something. They were not looking specifically for a link to Rose’s murder.”
“Can’t go until tomorrow.”
When Freddie arrived at Sam’s office the next morning, he found a printout of a note in Sam’s printer. The office had been searched by Rio Rancho police, just as Frank had told him. The disarray seemed typical of a police search. But how could they have missed the note? The printout read:
WARN HIM WHEN HE COMES FOR HIS MONEY THAT HE IS TO BLAME WESTERLING IF HE IS CAUGHT.
BUT HE COULD FINGER ME. KILL HIM. TELL THE KID TO KILL HIM.
TELL THE KID ABOUT THE GPS IN THE CAR.
DON’T FORGET TO HAVE SOMEONE TAKE OUT MARIAN …
It went on to detail other things Sam was to do, but nothing more about killers. Of course, the “him” must be Max.
Freddie called Frank. “Found a kind of to-do list in Sam’s computer. How could your guys have missed it?”
“Freddie, I know we searched Sam’s office and I know we found nothing. I also know there was no note in his printer. We wouldn’t have missed that.”
“I believe you, Frank. I think someone planted it here after your search. But why?”
“We left his computer there after searching through it while we were in the office. Maybe we should have brought the hard drive in.”
“You guys are sloppy.”
“Freddie, we work on a budget. Now, we’ll come get it since it seems more important.”
“I’ll bring the computer in. My fingerprints are all over it anyway.”
“Thanks, Freddie. I’ll let you know if a forensic examination shows us anything hidden on the hard drive. But, I agree, the note must have been written after our search of the office.”
“Isn’t it strange that there is no one named on the note except Marian?”
After Freddie told Bill about the note and the discussion with his brother Frank, Bill sat in his recliner, smoked a cigar and thought everything over. He decided it would be less than thorough not to interview Rose Gomez’s husband and daughter. He was sure the FBI had done that, but they no longer were cooperating with Freddie and him. What pretext could he now use to interview them?
The day after the election dawned bright and clear. The effects of a light freeze during the night disappeared as the sun heated the high desert. By noon, when Adrian and Felicia Murdock arose, they were already aware they had won the election and that Adrian was about to be a Senator from the State of New Mexico. Adrian had delivered his acceptance speech, and the two of them had finally gone to bed after partying most of the early morning.
After brunch, Felicia began looking at congratulatory emails while Adrian lingered over his coffee.
“Adrian, who is William Westerling? His wife mentions global warming in her congratulatory email.”
“He is an inventor, among other things, and is getting rich off global warming. I’m sure he is happy that a republican did not win. One who might have continued Rose Gomez’s fight against everything to do with protecting the environment.”
“I thought it strange that anyone mentioned it since you dropped any references to it from your speeches.”
“I was told to do that by my advisors in order to win. Now, I can openly support it again. Did anyone else mention it?”
“I’m speed reading these things, but there are probably thousands of them.”
“Don’t we have a program that will scan them for key words?”
“Yes, let me enter global warming --- Oh, here’s one. Ralph Rubin. Who is that? Says he’s an EPA official.”
“I never heard of him.”
Adrian had intended to fire both Carl Jensen and Mark Custer for the way they had treated him throughout the campaign. Before he had the chance, and right after last evening’s acceptance speech, both of them had told him their jobs were done and that now he was on his own, a great relief. They had dragged him out to the old house many times to try to whip him into shape. They had demanded so much from him that he had felt like a puppet. No, that wasn’t right, more like a Marine recruit. He couldn’t really argue with the results, however. He actually was now a U.S. Senator elect. I still can hardly believe it, he thought.
Carl, the more outspoken of the two, had elaborated perhaps too much when he spoke to Adrian after the acceptance speech, slurring his words. “Now, you can go back to all your pie-in-the-sky ideas. But, you won’t for long because you will have to worry about re-election six years from now. Oh, you’ll start out thinking you know what’s best for the country and even for the whole world. ‘Good works’ like saving the planet from climate change brought about by us nasty humans, for example. But, you will finally realize that unprovable theories are only about money, and you will finally conclude that you want your share. In the end, you will promote only the legislation that makes you the wealthiest. You will end up being controlled by whoever pays you the most to promote their agenda while saying you aren’t concerned about the size of your personal secret offshore accounts. In short, you will be like all the other legislators in this country, dedicated to greed and drunk with power. Ultimately, you will retire a rich but broken man. Have fun while it lasts.”
Adrian thought: Forget that nonsense. Consider the source. “Carl, if a Senator can get rich and have power, why don’t you run instead of hiring yourself out as an advisor?”
“Because I’m not good looking enough and have no charisma. Also, because I can’t lie with a straight face. Actually, I can’t lie at all. I can tell candidates to lie, however.”
“Carl, you’re drunk.”
Bill and Freddie finally got around to researching the three legislators on the internet.
Ron Bailey, the Alaskan representative killed in the airplane explosion, had been a young and vigorous proponent of oil drilling in Alaska. He believed that drilling operations could co-exist with nature because of recent technological advances. He also believed man-made global warming to be a myth created by liberals to expand government. Legislation such as cap and tax only burdened private sector industry by imposing taxes on CO2 emissions above a pre-set level. The tax would then have to be passed on to consumers by higher prices. He really didn’t even believe the CO2 emissions were bad for the ecology, and openly spoke, wrote, and sponsored anti-cap and tax legislation, and his ideas were gaining traction with the electorate. Ron was survived by his wife and two small children. The Governor of Alaska now contemplated appointing the widow to serve out the remainder of Ron’s term.
Dan Neal, the Florida senator who had been assassinated in his favorite Florida book store, also stood on the side of industry against government. In contrast with the young and vigorous Ron Bailey, Dan was a senior Senator and a product of a good-old-boy network of Florida business men. He believed mostly in his own power, not ecological theories and always voted to maintain and advance himself. He died a middle aged grandfather with a large family, none of which had any interest in politics.
Rose had turned out to be the most influential of the three, possessing similar personal beliefs as Ron and the charisma to advance them. She was also a senior senator like Dan. 18
Freddie and Terry (Teacup) arrived at the Hamilton home to be greeted by Bill and April. It was late morning.
“Sorry we’re late,” said Freddie. “Hope it’s alright that I brought Terry. We just left the Social Security office and I would have been even later if I had taken him home first.”
“Terry’s always welcome,” said Bill. “His input will be useful.”
Terry seemed pleased with that.
“Did you get signed on?” asked April.
“Yes,” said Terry. “A long wait, but it went real smooth once we sat down with somebody. I’ll start getting checks soon.”
The four gathered at the kitchen table.
“I know Bill comes and goes as he pleases, but are you off today, too?” asked Freddie of April.
“I’ve got lots of holiday and personal time.”
“Okay. We’ve got some decisions to make,” said Bill. “What are we going to concentrate on, now that the FBI has shut us out?”
“You tell us.” Freddie showed his disgust with the FBI.
“Well, the FBI seems to have settled on William Westerling as their suspect because the two killers they have in custody have told them he hired them.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Terry.
“Me either.” Bill shook his head. “I believe the two were instructed to implicate Westerling in the event they were caught.”
“So, we are looking for somebody else?” April wondered.
They all agreed, at least for now, not to pursue the same tack that the Feds seemed to have taken.
“I think we need to start with Max. I’m still sure Terry took money from him and Max was trying to get even,” said Freddie. “Max killed Rose and tried to set up Terry as a patsy.”
“So, who could have hired Max? Had to be someone with access to police arrest records,” said Bill.
“Not really,” said April. “Arrests and Arraignments are on Court websites. They tell you who was arraigned and on what charges. They also tell you if charges were dropped. Anyone can find potential killers by sitting in front of their computers.”
Silence reigned as the other three mulled that over. They knew April worked at a law firm and would know about such things. Bill, facing the windows and slider, surveyed the desert scenery as he thought. Several moments passed.
Finally, he spoke. “How would you tell which ones were guilty? Could the fact that not enough evidence is available to proceed to trial be enough? Wouldn’t the employer of the hit men need to narrow it down more than that?”
“I think you would have to hire a PI or someone to try to dig up more. By the time you approached someone to hire, you would need to be pretty sure he was really a killer. Not enough for an indictment, but more than the web sites tell you,” said April.
“A PI,” said Freddie. “Frank told me a PI was found shot in a Rio Rancho house recently. It was probably on the news, too. Name stuck in my head. Sam Peacock.”
“Could Sam have been hired to see what he could find on Max after his charges were dismissed?” asked Bill. “And then, maybe to hire Max?”
“Would Max be the one who killed him?” asked April. “Why?”
“Maybe he didn’t pay him,” said Terry. “Or maybe Max was tying up loose ends.”
“So, we have Max, who we’re pretty sure of, and Sam Peacock, who is a wild guess,” said Bill. “Where do we go from there?”
“Did Sam Peacock work alone? Did he have a partner, an office, a receptionist, an answering service? It’s hard to investigate an investigator,” said Freddie. “But I can find out everything the local police know about him from my brother Frank.”
“You still might want to visit Sam’s office, if he had one. The police may have overlooked something. They were not looking specifically for a link to Rose’s murder.”
“Can’t go until tomorrow.”
When Freddie arrived at Sam’s office the next morning, he found a printout of a note in Sam’s printer. The office had been searched by Rio Rancho police, just as Frank had told him. The disarray seemed typical of a police search. But how could they have missed the note? The printout read:
WARN HIM WHEN HE COMES FOR HIS MONEY THAT HE IS TO BLAME WESTERLING IF HE IS CAUGHT.
BUT HE COULD FINGER ME. KILL HIM. TELL THE KID TO KILL HIM.
TELL THE KID ABOUT THE GPS IN THE CAR.
DON’T FORGET TO HAVE SOMEONE TAKE OUT MARIAN …
It went on to detail other things Sam was to do, but nothing more about killers. Of course, the “him” must be Max.
Freddie called Frank. “Found a kind of to-do list in Sam’s computer. How could your guys have missed it?”
“Freddie, I know we searched Sam’s office and I know we found nothing. I also know there was no note in his printer. We wouldn’t have missed that.”
“I believe you, Frank. I think someone planted it here after your search. But why?”
“We left his computer there after searching through it while we were in the office. Maybe we should have brought the hard drive in.”
“You guys are sloppy.”
“Freddie, we work on a budget. Now, we’ll come get it since it seems more important.”
“I’ll bring the computer in. My fingerprints are all over it anyway.”
“Thanks, Freddie. I’ll let you know if a forensic examination shows us anything hidden on the hard drive. But, I agree, the note must have been written after our search of the office.”
“Isn’t it strange that there is no one named on the note except Marian?”
After Freddie told Bill about the note and the discussion with his brother Frank, Bill sat in his recliner, smoked a cigar and thought everything over. He decided it would be less than thorough not to interview Rose Gomez’s husband and daughter. He was sure the FBI had done that, but they no longer were cooperating with Freddie and him. What pretext could he now use to interview them?
The day after the election dawned bright and clear. The effects of a light freeze during the night disappeared as the sun heated the high desert. By noon, when Adrian and Felicia Murdock arose, they were already aware they had won the election and that Adrian was about to be a Senator from the State of New Mexico. Adrian had delivered his acceptance speech, and the two of them had finally gone to bed after partying most of the early morning.
After brunch, Felicia began looking at congratulatory emails while Adrian lingered over his coffee.
“Adrian, who is William Westerling? His wife mentions global warming in her congratulatory email.”
“He is an inventor, among other things, and is getting rich off global warming. I’m sure he is happy that a republican did not win. One who might have continued Rose Gomez’s fight against everything to do with protecting the environment.”
“I thought it strange that anyone mentioned it since you dropped any references to it from your speeches.”
“I was told to do that by my advisors in order to win. Now, I can openly support it again. Did anyone else mention it?”
“I’m speed reading these things, but there are probably thousands of them.”
“Don’t we have a program that will scan them for key words?”
“Yes, let me enter global warming --- Oh, here’s one. Ralph Rubin. Who is that? Says he’s an EPA official.”
“I never heard of him.”
Adrian had intended to fire both Carl Jensen and Mark Custer for the way they had treated him throughout the campaign. Before he had the chance, and right after last evening’s acceptance speech, both of them had told him their jobs were done and that now he was on his own, a great relief. They had dragged him out to the old house many times to try to whip him into shape. They had demanded so much from him that he had felt like a puppet. No, that wasn’t right, more like a Marine recruit. He couldn’t really argue with the results, however. He actually was now a U.S. Senator elect. I still can hardly believe it, he thought.
Carl, the more outspoken of the two, had elaborated perhaps too much when he spoke to Adrian after the acceptance speech, slurring his words. “Now, you can go back to all your pie-in-the-sky ideas. But, you won’t for long because you will have to worry about re-election six years from now. Oh, you’ll start out thinking you know what’s best for the country and even for the whole world. ‘Good works’ like saving the planet from climate change brought about by us nasty humans, for example. But, you will finally realize that unprovable theories are only about money, and you will finally conclude that you want your share. In the end, you will promote only the legislation that makes you the wealthiest. You will end up being controlled by whoever pays you the most to promote their agenda while saying you aren’t concerned about the size of your personal secret offshore accounts. In short, you will be like all the other legislators in this country, dedicated to greed and drunk with power. Ultimately, you will retire a rich but broken man. Have fun while it lasts.”
Adrian thought: Forget that nonsense. Consider the source. “Carl, if a Senator can get rich and have power, why don’t you run instead of hiring yourself out as an advisor?”
“Because I’m not good looking enough and have no charisma. Also, because I can’t lie with a straight face. Actually, I can’t lie at all. I can tell candidates to lie, however.”
“Carl, you’re drunk.”
Bill and Freddie finally got around to researching the three legislators on the internet.
Ron Bailey, the Alaskan representative killed in the airplane explosion, had been a young and vigorous proponent of oil drilling in Alaska. He believed that drilling operations could co-exist with nature because of recent technological advances. He also believed man-made global warming to be a myth created by liberals to expand government. Legislation such as cap and tax only burdened private sector industry by imposing taxes on CO2 emissions above a pre-set level. The tax would then have to be passed on to consumers by higher prices. He really didn’t even believe the CO2 emissions were bad for the ecology, and openly spoke, wrote, and sponsored anti-cap and tax legislation, and his ideas were gaining traction with the electorate. Ron was survived by his wife and two small children. The Governor of Alaska now contemplated appointing the widow to serve out the remainder of Ron’s term.
Dan Neal, the Florida senator who had been assassinated in his favorite Florida book store, also stood on the side of industry against government. In contrast with the young and vigorous Ron Bailey, Dan was a senior Senator and a product of a good-old-boy network of Florida business men. He believed mostly in his own power, not ecological theories and always voted to maintain and advance himself. He died a middle aged grandfather with a large family, none of which had any interest in politics.
Rose had turned out to be the most influential of the three, possessing similar personal beliefs as Ron and the charisma to advance them. She was also a senior senator like Dan.