Blindman's Bluff (14 page)

“Who hired Paco?”

“Guy.”

“Who hired Riley Karns?”

“Gilliam. She put him in charge of all the animals—dogs and horses.”

“Where’d she find Riley Karns?”

“She hired him away from one of the horse clubs where she used to show her Morgans. I did a background check on him and nothing turned up. He had a good reputation with the animals. Once he was a skilled jockey. He rode quarter horses.”

“We’ll get back to him in a minute,” Decker said. “So you personally think the murders were the work of the hired help?”

“Someone on the inside. Not all of them…just a few bad apples.”

“What about Rondo Martin? Is he a bad apple?”

“I personally screened him. He had worked for Ponceville for eight years. The place was a rural farming community so there wasn’t much crime to begin with, but under Martin’s reign whatever crime they had had gone down. Nothing about him waved a red flag.”

“How long had he worked for you?” “Two years.”

“Why did he leave Ponceville?”

“I seem to remember him wanting a bigger city, but I might be mistaken. Look it up in his file. I gave it to one of your detectives. His name escapes me, but he was a sharp dresser.”

It is said that the clothes make the man and nothing could be truer in this case. “That would be Scott Oliver. How well did you know Rondo Martin?”

“He showed up for work on time. He did his job well and without attitude.”

“Did he speak Spanish?”

It took a moment before Brady processed the question. “Some of the guards were bilingual, but I don’t know about Martin.” He took in Decker’s eyes. “I know how it looks, but you had your suspicions about Denny Orlando. Then he turned up dead.”

“You think Martin is dead?”

“No idea.”

“What about Joe Pine? Did he speak Spanish?”

Brady paused. “Yes, fluently. Why are you asking about him?”

“He’s missing.”

The pause lasted longer than it should have. “He’s missing?” When Decker nodded, Brady shook his head. “He was one of Guy’s rehabilitated gangbangers. I’m sure he has a record. I never liked him, but Guy was the boss.”

Brady’s PDA went off.

“Excuse me.” The guard talked in hushed tones, then he said, “Right away.” He turned to Decker. “Grant and Mace have returned from the hospital. They’d like a few words with you.”

“That’s fine. Riley Karns told me that he was one of the guys who originally dug the graves for the horses. He said that Joe Pine—who was on duty that day—told him where to dig it.”

“That could be. Hold on.” Brady spoke on the phone. “I need the cart A-sap.” He stowed his phone in his pocket. “Usually, I had nothing to do with the horses but when one of them was sick…I think it was Netherworld, Guy told me that he didn’t want to spend the money on cremation. He told me to find an out-of-the-way spot on the property and get rid of it. I think I did punt to Pine to find the spot.” A pause. “I think I told him that if he needed help to ask Riley or Paco.”

“So you didn’t choose the spot?”

“No, but I knew the horses were buried somewhere around there.” The man was sweating. He wiped his face with a handkerchief. “I’d like to remind you that I was five hundred miles away when the murders occurred.”

That meant nothing.
Decker said, “I need a list of everyone who knew about the grave. So far I have Karns, Paco Albanez, Joe Pine, and you. Anyone else?”

“I don’t know, for goodness’ sakes. It was at least a year ago.”

“You’re in charge,” Decker said evenly. “You have to know these things.”

Brady took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. I’ll find out.”

“What do you know about Joe Pine?”

“Not much. When Guy said to hire someone, I did it. I think his family was from Mexico. He lives in Pacoima.” Brady saw the golf cart pull up. “We’ll talk later. Let’s go see the bosses. Maybe they can help you out.”

“Speaking of the bosses, I heard Greenridge was in deep trouble.”

Brady glanced at the driver of the golf cart, who was making a big show of
not
paying attention. “I don’t know anything about that. And if I were you I’d be careful with my innuendos. Since you don’t know what you’re dealing with, someone might take it the wrong way.”

“Sounds like a threat, although I’m sure you didn’t mean that.”

“I meant it as cautionary words. Guy and Gilliam were protected by a league of people and look what happened. Let’s go.”

Brady sat next to the driver, Decker sat in back. With a slight little backlash, they were on their way. Neptune was right about one thing. Investigating crimes was dangerous work. That was Decker’s job: to open doors without knowing what’s on the other side. Most of the time, it was harmless. But all it took was one little misstep and the next thing you knew you were looking down the barrel of a shotgun.

T
HE GOLF CART
stopped at the service entrance of Wind Chimes. Decker followed Brady through a series of hallways until the security man opened a set of double doors. Mace and Grant were waiting in an all-glass conservatory, its French doors wide open to allow in the fresh, briny air and the hypnotic song of the ocean waves. The space held several couches, chairs, and end tables, most of them holding vases of white and purple
Phalaenopsis
orchids, yellow cymbidiums, pink bromeliads, and assorted African violets. Shades had been lowered to cut the glare of the afternoon sun.

The men were drinking something over ice. Grant wore a white polo shirt, jeans, and sandals. His sandy hair had lightened and his skin had darkened in a couple of days courtesy of the California sun. Mace’s dark complexion had turned a deep bronze. Stubble smudged his face except above his lip where sufficient hair had grown to be called a mustache. He wore a blue shirt with his sleeves rolled up, exposing the thick muscle of his arms. Gabardine pants covered his tree-trunk legs.

Grant extended his glass toward Decker. “Lemonade. Would you like a glass? Or are you the beer type?”

Beer = unrefined. “Lemonade sounds great, thank you.”

“What about you, Neptune?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Kaffey, but thank you.”

To Decker, Grant said, “Want a shot of vodka to go with?”

“Not when I’m working.”

“Working on Sunday? That’s dedication.” Grant called a housekeeper and asked for an additional glass of lemonade. “Let’s hope it’s the real thing and not meant for show. I know you’re under pressure.”

Decker ignored the bait. “I heard your brother’s doing better.”

“Doctor says he’ll be out in a week—very good news. I suppose you’ll be pestering him with questions.”

“Can’t be dedicated unless you pester.”

“Be delicate. He’s still in shock. Maybe not the physical shock but…you know what I mean.”

“I do. Where is he going to be staying?”

“He’s going to his house. His ex-boyfriend will be with him as well as a full-time nurse.”

“Your brother’s ex is Antoine Resseur?”

“Yes. He’s a good guy.” Grant’s eyes turned toward the ocean. “Dr. Rain said he anticipates a full recovery. He just has to be careful until his liver heals. Absolutely no alcohol. That’s a bit of a pain.”

Decker took out his notepad. “Does Gil drink a lot?”

“Social drinker like me. In fact…” Grant went over to a cabinet and added a shot of Bombay Sapphire to the lemonade. “You only live once.”

A uniformed maid came in and gave Decker a glass of lemonade. He thanked her and said to Grant, “I have in my records that Gil lives in the Hollywood Hills.”

“Oriole Way. I don’t know the address, but it’s a split-level, midcentury modern, which tells you nothing because most of the houses were built around that time.”

“I’ll get the address.”

Grant’s eyes moistened. “I got a call from the coroner. He said it’ll be a few more days before…”

“These things take time,” Decker said. “I’m sorry.”

“Life goes on,” Grant said. “We’re having a small service tomorrow, and then Mace is heading back east tomorrow evening.”

Mace said, “If you need to get hold of me, you can reach me through my secretary. I’ll be traveling down the Hudson Valley but in phone contact. Got a lot of work to do.” He raised his black eyebrows. “I dread what my desk will look like.”

“Troubles?” Decker asked.

“Never troubles,” Mace insisted with a smile. “Just issues to be worked out. As much as my heart grieves, someone has to keep an eye on our East Coast operations.”

Grant said, “We decided that Mace can handle Greenridge while my brother and I work out the final burial and the details of running the company. I’ll stay out here at the helm to calm everyone down.”

“Kaffey Industries will go on,” Mace said. “The company isn’t a one-man operation.”

Grant said, “My father was smart enough to delegate a lot of the management to his sons.” He looked at Mace. “The three of us.”

Decker nodded. “Any estimate on how long you’re staying on in California?”

“I need Gil to be at full capacity, and that may take a while.” Grant swirled the ice cubes in his highball glass. “I’ve decided that the best thing to do is to move my family out here. We’ll be staying at Wind Chimes until everything’s back on track. This is why I wanted to talk to you, Lieutenant.” His eyes met Decker’s. “I’d like to know when your people are leaving Coyote Ranch.”

“I wish I could tell you. We’ve got a lot of material to sort through, plus now that Denny Orlando was found buried on the property, things will have to be gone over again.” When Grant winced, Decker said, “Is it a problem for you? That my people will be there for a while?”

“It might be soon. For now the estate is being assessed by Dad’s lawyers. I don’t know the exact contents of the will, but I assume most of my parents’ assets will go to Gil and me.”

“Do you know that for a fact?” Decker asked.

“I’m reasonably certain that’s the case. We’ll not only inherit their fortune but a big, fat estate tax bill. Neither Gil nor I want the ranch. We would like to sell it. The money realized from the sale would help defray the estate tax.”

“I’ll do the best I can, but we don’t want to overlook anything that might be crucial in the investigation. I’m sure you understand that.”

“How do you know whether something is crucial or not?”

“That’s the point, Mr. Kaffey. You never know. That’s why we’re meticulous.”

Silence. Then Grant asked, “How about a guesstimate? A week? A month? A year?”

“Not a year,” Decker repeated. “Probably not much more than a month.”

Grant said, “As soon as the assets are allocated, the ranch is going up for sale. I’ve already contacted a real estate agent.”

“Actually you can’t do anything with the property until we’ve cleared it, but I’ll try to be timely. I’m sure we can work something out even if we’re still there.”

“As long as you don’t get in my way, I’m fine. There are not that many people who can afford a property of such magnitude, especially in this economic climate. If we get a buyer, we’re going for it. I don’t want anything to scare someone away.”

“The murders were publicized. Any buyer who wants Coyote Ranch would know what went on.”

“Still, there’s no sense in being obvious.”

“I’ll try to be timely,” Decker reiterated.

But Grant didn’t appear to hear him. “On the other hand, the murders may attract other kinds of buyers. Lots of ghouls out there. You wouldn’t believe the phone calls that have been screened by my secretaries. We’re hounded by the press! All of them want details:
about the crime, about Gil’s progress, about our business, about Mom and Dad’s will for God’s sakes. What is wrong with this world!”

Decker shrugged. “We’re living in a time of instant everything, courtesy of the electronic highway. It creates a community of toddlers. When they don’t get immediate gratification, they get petulant and sulky.”

“Amen to that,” Grant agreed.

The man didn’t realize that Decker’s pointed comments had included him in the petulant and sulky category. That was probably a good thing.

DRIVING NORTHWARD TOWARD
L.A., Decker was happy that Rina was in a talkative mood, telling him about the paintings she saw and liked, what she might want to trade, and how much she thought they could get for some of their premium artworks. Even Decker raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’ll cover a year’s tuition at college for Hannah.”

“Stop pleading poverty, Lieutenant, we’re doing fine. How did your day go?”

“It went as anticipated. Nothing illuminating, but I didn’t come down with expectations.”

“So why did you come down?”

“To be on the open road with you.”

“That’s very sweet.” She leaned over and gave Decker a kiss. “I had a good time. I’m sorry it didn’t go well.”

“It’s not that.” He thought a moment. “You don’t talk to these guys with the idea of getting a confession. And I certainly didn’t get that.”

Rina studied his face. “You look bothered.”

“I need to interview Mace Kaffey alone, but he’s leaving tomorrow night for home, which is back east. I’ve got to be quick. I should have arranged something, but I didn’t want to do it in front of Grant.”

Decker recounted his interview of the previous night with Mil
fred Connors. He also went on to explain all the embezzling charges leveled against Mace, the lawsuit between the brothers and how everything was eventually settled, but with Mace Kaffey getting demoted.

“It’s a movie starring Mace as Robin Hood,” Rina said. “Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.”

“And taking a little for himself,” Decker said.

“And that’s what caused the lawsuit between the brothers?”

“I’m still not sure about that,” Decker said. “This is the problem. Connors claims that he wrote phony checks for about two hundred grand, and Mace returned around one hundred and twenty grand. That leaves eighty grand in Mace’s pocket. It’s a lot of buckaroos, but it’s a far cry from five million.”

“But it’s not eighty grand, Peter, it’s two hundred grand.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But even if Mace did the same thing with every accountant there, it would be maximum four million, not five. And honestly I doubt that Mace pulled the same stunt with everyone in accounting.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“That Mace was telling the truth when he said that Guy also skimmed off the top. When the IRS opened the books, Guy was just as vulnerable as Mace.” Decker paused. “I’m just wondering if the entire lawsuit was a screen.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was primarily Guy’s business. What if he was doing the majority of the skimming and he got caught, owing a big fat bill to the IRS plus fines and jail time? I could see Guy promising Mace something if Mace would take the heat for the embezzlement.”

“But Mace didn’t take the heat. You just told me that the case was settled between the brothers, with the IRS, and then Mace was demoted big time.”

“Making Mace look guilty.”

“He was guilty,” Rina said.

“But maybe not as guilty as Guy. Think of it, Rina. Mace is accused of embezzling yet Guy keeps him on and transfers him to the
East Coast and gives him Greenridge, one of the biggest projects ever handled by Kaffey Industries. Is that really a demotion?”

“Isn’t Grant in charge of Greenridge?”

“He was, but with Guy Kaffey gone, Grant is here and Mace is handling Greenridge all alone.”

“You’re saying that Mace killed his brother and his sister-in-law and tried to kill his nephew so he could be put in charge of Greenridge?”

“What if Guy was going to pull the plug on Greenridge. Where would that leave Mace?”

“Except that if Mace took the fall for Guy, then that would imply that Mace had dirt on his brother. Then why would Guy deliberately rile up Mace?”

“I don’t have the answers, just the questions.” Rina laughed and so did Decker. “Lots of questions, and no leads except for Harriman’s eavesdropping. I’ll check out the guys you IDed. But even if one of them took part in the murders, I’m sure he was just a hired hand.”

“You think Mace set everything up?”

“I don’t know, Rina. You always look at the family and who has what to gain. Mace may have gotten Greenridge for helping out Guy with his IRS problems, but if the parents die, it’s the sons who will inherit. Grant is already talking about selling the ranch to pay estate taxes. They’re still number one on my list.”

“But Gil was seriously shot. How could you suspect him?”

“True. The bullet took out some of his liver and that’s a nasty injury. But he didn’t die, whereas the others were slaughtered. Even if what Harriman said is true, that José ran out of bullets, there had to be someone else there with a spare piece of lead to shoot into Gil’s brain. What if Gil set himself up to look innocent and the shooter accidentally nicked a vital organ?”

Rina said, “I’ve seen that on
Forensic Files.
How common is that?”

“Not common, but I’ve seen it before. So why did I come down besides wanting to be with you?” He thought a moment. “It’s this
way. You never let up. You don’t badger anyone, but you keep coming back. A phone call, a surprise visit, an e-mail, one more question. If you do it long enough to someone who’s involved, you start making the guilty party antsy. The person makes a phone call or two. The person starts receiving a phone call or two. People act impulsively and things get flushed out. Big cases like this one…you almost never start at the top dog even if the top dog is guilty.”

“Too many layers of protection.”

“Exactly,” Decker said. “You start with the lowlifes who did the shooting. It’s easier to get a bead on them because they’re almost always involved in something illegal. You pull them in for drugs and then you bring up the murder. Next thing you know, someone starts rolling and you slowly work your way up until you get to the top.” A pause. “If they’re involved. It could be that they’re innocent.”

“I’m not putting your statement in the paper,” Rina said. “You don’t have to qualify yourself.”

Decker laughed. “Force of habit.” They drove for a while in silence. “You know, I keep saying that the boys stand to inherit. As of right now, that’s not a forgone conclusion. The will hasn’t been executed yet.”

“So the sons really don’t know what they have.”

“Correct. But Grant seemed sure that Gil and he are set to get almost everything. Maybe Guy had a talk with his sons a long time ago and told his kids that they were set to inherit everything. Or maybe Grant just assumed…that’s what he said. He assumed that his parents left he and his brother most everything. You know what they say about ‘assume,’ don’t you?”

“Yes. It makes an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me.’”

“Exactly.”

“So what happens if Grant is wrong about the will?”

“I think he’ll be sorely disappointed.”

“That could get interesting.”

“Interesting is good. Lots of things happen when the case gets that kind of interesting.”