by Alan Cook
Chapter 9
On Thursday morning I woke up at six, a half-hour past my usual
time. I drank a glass of water and did some stretching. Then I
went for my run, up and down the hills of Palos Verdes, for an
hour. My body had been more upset by not running yesterday
than by my lack of sleep. I was addicted to running and hated to
miss a day. I needed the uplift provided by the endorphins flowing
into my blood stream and the stress flowing out.
The route back from my run took me past the post office, where I
had a mailbox. I kept this PO box because of my baseball card
business and also because I didn't want my father, and
particularly Jacie, to monitor my mail.
I went into the post office lobby and opened my mailbox. There
were several letters; I could tell from the return addresses that
they were from successful bidders for my cards on eBay. They
contained checks. Receiving checks in the mail, no matter how
small, always buoyed my spirits.
I ran back to the house, took my shower and had breakfast,
consisting primarily of orange juice and a large bowl of oatmeal,
sprinkled with raw cashew pieces I purchased in bulk at Trader
Joe's. It wasn't until I was getting ready to call Detective
Washington that I noticed I had a message on my answering
machine. It must have been left while I was running.
I pressed it the "play" button and heard: "Karl, this is Arrow. I'm
at Elma's house. I got here early to work on her finances
because she is going to be tied up later with arrangements
for Ned's memorial service. She called the San Francisco police
yesterday to find out what they were doing about Ned's murder.
She just got a call back a few minutes ago from a Detective
Washington. The detective told her they had found Ned's rental
car in a parking lot and there was cocaine in the trunk.
"Elma went ballistic. She screamed over the phone and said it
couldn't be true; it must have been planted. Then she demanded
they search her house. She finally got Detective Washington to
agree to coordinate a search with the Manhattan Beach police.
I'm calling from my cell phone because Elma is on the phone with
the Manhattan Beach police right now. I thought you ought to
know about the cocaine." She gave her cell phone number and
the message ended.
So that's what Detective Washington wanted to talk to me about.
I logged onto the Internet and checked the price of Dionysus
stock. It had opened down another ten percent. I clicked on
"news" and found a story with a dateline of today, saying that
two plastic bags of cocaine had been found in Ned's car. Bad
news travels fast--maybe too fast. How did it get out?
I didn't know Ned well, but I didn't believe Ned was involved in
drugs. I went to my online trading account and placed orders for
Dionysus stock for Luz myself. Buy low.
I placed a call to Detective Washington. She came on the line
and said, "Mr. Patterson, we need to talk to you again."
"So talk."
"In person."
"About the cocaine?"
"So you know about that."
"It isn't exactly a secret. It's all over the Internet."
"Yeah, well that's unfortunate. Can you come up here?"
"I don't know anything I haven't already told you. Besides, I'm
running a business."
"Look, Mr. Patterson, I don't want to get nasty and force you
to come."
Could she do that? I quickly weighed my options. I'd rather go
to them than have them come to me. And I'd rather go at a
time set by me than them. Besides, I wanted to find out more
about James Buchanan. "I'll fly up tomorrow morning. I can meet
you at 10."
Detective Washington gave me the address of the station she
worked out of. I hung up and thought for a minute. Then I
called my father's office number. Arrow had undoubtedly already
told him about the cocaine, but I wanted to keep him informed
about my connection with the police investigation.
John answered the phone. When I identified myself he said, "Karl,
it's great to hear your voice. Richard has someone in his office,
but I'll tell him you're on the line. Hold, please."
My father answered in less than a minute. I said, "Dad, I'm
sorry about the car thing yesterday. I was...upset about
what happened to Ned and I lost track of the time."
"That's okay," my father said. "Jacie picked me up. At least
she wasn't out playing tennis."
He sounded distant and preoccupied; he was undoubtedly
thinking about the cocaine. I quickly filled him in on my
conversation with Detective Washington.
"I want an attorney to go with you," he said when I had
finished. "Our corporate attorney is going to be present
when Elma's house is searched this afternoon, but he
should be free tomorrow..."
"Dad, I'm not a suspect. I'm just a witness. An attorney isn't
necessary. In fact, there's nothing for an attorney to do in
this situation."
He wasn't convinced. We argued about it.
Finally, he said, "All right, no attorney. But I want Arrow to
go with you."
"Arrow? Why?"
"To protect the company's interests. I think Ned was set up."
"I'll protect the company's interests."
"You're not an employee; she is."
I had to concede him that point. Arrow was an acceptable
compromise. My father already had his attorney protecting
Elma's rights and I felt that she was a lot more vulnerable
than I was. We left it that John would make our reservations.
He switched me back to John and I managed to convey my
requests to him and keep him to a minimum of provocative
chitchat. I assumed he didn't talk to my father the way he
talked to me.
I worked on my baseball card business until noon. Then I took
the cards I was shipping and drove to the post office. From
there I went to the main library of the Palos Verdes Library
District and looked up information on James Buchanan.
Between the online databases and the back issues of
magazines, there was a wealth of material.
I realized I had heard about James Buchanan before, but until
a couple of years ago I wouldn't have considered him part of
my universe. That was when I had started taking investing
seriously.
I found out that he was 47 years old and had started his
investing career right out of college. He and a partner had
managed to gain control of a faltering printing business and
turned it around. The partner's name was Ned Mackay. With
the cash flow generated they had acquired other companies.
Eventually, Buchanan had bought Ned out, renamed his
company Tartan Enterprises and continued to invest very
successfully in corporations large and small.
Buchanan had been married and had two children, but his wife
had divorced him 12 years ago. Irreconcilable differences. Of
course, that was the only cause for divorce in California.
Aces and Knaves copyright ©2002 Alan L. Cook
Give me feedback
Home Page--read about my mystery novel, The Hayloft,
available as a trade paperback book.