The Dashwood Tapes

Chapter 4

They had the subpoena just before lunch and immediately headed out to Attorney Cogborns office. and the reception desk in the sumptuously appointed lobby

" I need to speak with Mr. Cogborn."

The receptionists cool and rather disinterested gaze gave testimony to the ease with which she was accustomed to handling unwelcome clients.

"Mr. Cogborn is not in the office."

"When is he expected to return."

"Not for several days."

Steve gathered himself. Rafferty was watching cautiously, waiting for him to explode.

"Is it possible to contact him. We could email or fax, perhaps even a text?"

"Mr. Cogborn doesn't use email or text."

Rafferty saw the muscles in Steve's back and shoulders tighten, then, unexpectedly relax as he laid the subpoena on the reception desk.

"This is a subpoena. If it isn't answered in 24 hours I will have every cop in this city looking for Mr. Cogborn with orders to arrest him immediately. If I find out that subpoena gets conveniently lost, I will be back to haul your pretty little ass to jail for hindering a murder investigation.

The receptionists eyes got big and she nodded.

As they left he looked back as the door closed and saw her already dialing the telephone.

"I wager he will have that in his hand in 15 minutes. I wish I could see his face."

They spent the rest of the afternoon running down leads that had come into the office since the murder. Most of them were bad, people seeking a little publicity, the usual run of nuts who wanted to take credit for every murder that happened and some that might have real possibilities. Just before they were going to head home, they got a call. His wife's car had been located.

They pulled into the parking lot of the seedy bar on the edge of town. Two patrol cars and the forensics guys were there. He walked up and looked over their shoulders.

"Anything."

"Not much. No prints that we can find so far. Looks like it has been wiped pretty well. Nothing inside to speak of except the usual assortment of junk, trash and fast food sacks."

He nodded.

"How long has it been here."

"Talk to the uniforms. They took the report from the bar owner."

"I think I will go talk to him myself."

He turned and nearly stepped on Rafferty.

"Come on."

He headed for the bar and pushed into the dark, smoky interior. It was lit by the usual assortment of pool table lights, neon beer signs and the bar back lights. He looked around and walked to the bar.

"You the manager"

"Nope. The owner is in the office. Down that hall. Last door on the left."

He turned and walked toward the hallway. He found the door, shut and he knocked. He heard a voice from inside.

"Talk to the bartender. He can give you the order."

"I ain't taking orders. Police. I need to talk to you."

The door opened and he came face to face with a short balding man with a huge cigar in the corner of his mouth.

"Come in. Bring your friend too."

"This is sergeant Rafferty, my partner."

The man looked her up and down appreciatively and then whistled."

"Honey, you can arrest me anytime. I hope you strip search me too."

She smiled and looked at him.

"I bet you would, until I put a tazer on your balls and pulled the trigger."

He looked at her in amazement and then back at him.

"You wasn't kidding huh?"

Steve just shrugged.

"What do you know about the car we are about to tow out of your parking lot?"

"Not much. It has been here a couple of days. We try to give people a chance to come back and get them if they leave 'em instead of driving home.

"What about the owner."

"I have no idea."

Steve opened his book and pulled a picture and laid it on the desk.

"Ever seen her."

"Oh yeah. She has been in and out of her a couple of times. Nice ass and big tits. She is a bit of mouth tho'."

"When was the last time you saw her."

"Just a couple of nights ago."

"Tell me what you remember about that night."

"She came in and ordered a Manhattan and then sat at the end of the bar watching the door. About 30 minutes after she got here, two men came in and she met them halfway. They stood and talked a few minutes then she gathered up her stuff and left with them."

"You ever seen them before."

"Nope."

Did you overhear what they were saying?"

"Nope, but Charley, one of our regulars was sitting just behind them that night. He told me later that they were talking about a party somewhere."

"Where do I find this Charley."

"I don't know where he lives, but you can bet your ass he will be here in a couple of hours."

"If you remember anything else or hear anything else, you call me."

Steve tossed a business card on the desk. The man sitting across from him, picked it up and squinted as he looked at the tiny print.

"Why all the effort for an abandoned car?."

"The woman ended up dead and we are trying to figure out why."

The man gulped.

"Ok. Will do."

They left the office and stopped just outside the hallway and looked around the bar. It looked like every other hole in the wall joint in town.

He looked at Rafferty.

"If you want to go, I'm going to wait here and see if Charley shows up."

She looked at him and shook her head.

"Oh no. I'm staying here to make sure you don't fall into a bottle of scotch."

He looked at her.

"It ain't gonna happen, I promise you."

She looked at him

"Never the less, if you are staying so am I"

"Well, then what is your pleasure Ms. Rafferty, I'm buying."

"Do you think it is a good idea when we are working?"

"You are working. I'm on admin leave with pay."

She ordered a rum and coke and he ordered a scotch. They found a booth in a corner that gave them a clear view of the front door and the hallway. Nursing the drinks they waited Finally, a scraggly looking old guy came in, took the table that the owner of the bar had indicated Charley always occupied and ordered a double vodka. When he had his drink, Steve and Angela walked over.

"Charley?"

The old drunk looked up through red rimmed eyes.

"Yeah?"

I am detective Parks. This is detective Rafferty. If you don't mind we would like to ask you some questions.

He watched the old man look past him at Rafferty and his eyes suddenly open. He sat up a bit and put on what would have to pass for a smile. Gaps showed in the grin and the teeth that remained were tobacco stained and rotten.

"Sure."

"Charley, you remember two guys and a woman who were in here a few nights ago?."

"Sorta."

Do you remember what they were talking about before they left?"

"I didn't hear all of it. They asked if she was ready for a party and she wanted to know how many. One of the guys said five and she said no problem. They were still talking when they left and I didn't hear it."

"Did you notice anything else about them?"

The old mans face cut into a wide grin.

"Yeah. That gal had some really nice tits!"

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, one of the guys never said nothing, but I could see his shoes. He had on the fanciest damn shoes I ever seen."

"What about the other guy. the one that did the talking?"

"He had an accent. Sounded like one of them movie gangsters."

Steve pulled the morgue pic of the dead man from his book and laid it on the table.

"Is that him."

"Yeah, but he looked better then."

"I imagine. He is dead."

"No Shit. . . I didn't' have nothing to do with it."

"We know Charley. You have been a big help."

"Thanks officer That help wouldn't be worth another drink would it."

Steve saw the anticipation in the old drunks face and nodded. Tossing a ten dollar bill on the table Steve stood and laid a hand on the old mans shoulder.

"Enjoy it."

They left and headed out to the car.

"Well, now at least we have a time line which is more information than we had before."

He was silent as she drove back to the house. Staring out the side window, Angela was surprised when he started to talk.

"I knew my wife was fucking around. I just never knew she was going to such extremes. We had a huge blowup just a couple of nights before this all happened. I made her mad enough that she finally told me that she had done 5 guys that night. It sounds like it was happening on a regular basis."

"Was she participating in anything else?"

"Hell I don't know. The last 6 months I would get home late in the evening and she would be gone. I would be asleep when she came in and I would get up and be gone before she woke. I bet we didn't say 2 dozen words to each other. In a way, I guess part of it is my fault. I was at work all the time."

"Hey, it's part of the job."

"She took it for a long time. When I was undercover I would be gone 2 or 3 days at a time. She never knew where, or when I would return. I guess it all just got to be too much."

"It isn't your fault Steve. Lots of cops wives manage it without turning into a nymphomaniac." Angela immediately regretted the remark. " I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"You are right. She was. I just can't believe she would do the bondage and sadism thing. She would cry for an hour if she had to pull a sliver from her finger. God forbid she ever really got hurt. It is just out of character."

"Then there must be something else going on."

'Yeah, I just can't figure out what."

She pulled into the driveway and into the garage. They were soon in the house and he was sitting in the recliner in his sock feet with his head laid back on the cushion. She went to change clothes and when she came back he was snoring. She smiled, pulled a throw over him and turned out the lights.

He woke early and found himself still in the recliner with the throw wadded up around him. He got untangled, stood up and stared around still half asleep. Stumbling into the kitchen, he found the coffee maker and started the coffee. Then he turned around and nearly stepped on her again.

"GOD DAMN IT RAFFERTY. Would you quite sneaking up on me."

"I didn't sneak up. You were making enough noise to wake the dead. Did you find the coffee?"

"Yes thanks. It is started."

He looked at her, bed hair and sleepy eyes. He looked down and smiled. She looked confused at him and he pointed. She looked down and found that the singlet top had gotten pulled to one side and one breast was totally exposed. She yipped, struggled to get things straight and then looked at him.

"You could have told me sooner."

"I just noticed it myself. Nice tit though'"

She punched him in the chest.

"Ow. What was that for."

"For being a pervert."

She spun around and headed back to her bedroom. He watched her go down the hall, quite appreciative of the thin light weight running shorts she wore.

Stu called about 10am. A courier had shown up with the stuff they had asked from in the subpoena. Did they want to come get it?"

"Hell yeah! We will be there in 20 minutes."

She looked at him.

"There is no way I can be ready to go in time to get there in 20 minutes."

"Pull on some jeans and a shirt. We are going now."

She came back a few minutes later wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they had been sprayed on and an off the shoulder blouse. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail. He had to stop and check her out.

"Honey, if that is how you look when you aren't fit to go outside, then I want to see you when you are dolled up."

"Play your cards right and you might."

His eyebrows went up. They were soon on the road to headquarters.

She ran into the building and was soon back at the car carrying a thick manila folder. She tossed it to him as she climbed in and started the car. By the time she pulled away from the curb, he had the envelope open and the sheaf of papers in his hands. He slowly paged through the information.

"Is it all there?"

"I don't know. The trust papers are here as well as the incorporation papers. There are some financials. YES! Here it is. The members list. He got quiet as he started to look down the list."

Before they got home, he whistled.

"Oh brother. We may have fallen into the proverbial rattlesnake den."

"Why"

"Wait till you see the names on this list."

"Who is there."

"It would be easier to name who isn't here. It reads like who's who for this whole part of the state."

She looked over at him.

"So how do we go about this?"

"I'm not sure yet. Let's get to the house and think about it."

He sat at the kitchen table going through the papers carefully. He spent a long time reading the trust documents and the other legal papers.

"Apparently, the trust owns the building, all the equipment and other contents. The group meets there, holds its business meetings there and social gatherings. They also rent the building to other groups and individuals for other events. The building seems to be the only source of income but according to these financial they must rent that thing all the time and for some really exorbitant leases. The income hitting the bank is way out of line with the type of events I would think would be held there."

She walked over. He looked up at her. She was wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a shortsleeve button down shirt. She had on an apron. He tried not to stare.

"So what do you think is going on?"

"I dunno. I would like to get my hands on all the bank records. Something is going on in that building that is generating tons of cash."

"What about who is involved with this murder?"

"I still don't have a clue. There are about 300 people on this list. men and women. Some of them will be easy to eliminate because they live out of town. The others, though, will mean contacting each one and getting an alibi and then checking out that alibi. Man hours. Lots of man hours. You and I can't possibly do it. We have to come up with something ingenious."