STATE OF ANGER: A Virgil Jones Mystery Series (Detective Virgil Jones Mystery Series Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: STATE OF ANGER: A Virgil Jones Mystery Series (Detective Virgil Jones Mystery Series Book 1)
8.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

 

9

__________

 

T
hey
got to the end of the hall and Margery gave a single knock on a set of Mahogany
double doors. Virgil followed her in. There were four people at the far end of
the room—three men and a woman—all seated in high-backed leather
swivel chairs at the end of an enormous, well-polished conference table. The
room was windowless and the lights were set at a low level. The man at the head
of the table, a tall balding guy with bushy eyebrows and a Jay Leno chin spoke
without looking up. “Margery, I was certain I made my position clear. This is
an emergency session of the executive committee and we are not to be disturbed.
Close the door on the way out, if you please, and leave it closed. I would
prefer not to have to lock it, but if you can not or will not follow my
direction, you will leave me with no other choice.”

The room was long, forty feet or
so by Virgil’s estimation, so he thought he could get away with it. He pulled
Margery close by the elbow, lowered his voice a little and said, “I thought you
said Dugan was the son of a bitch.”

Margery spoke from the side of her
mouth. “I did. And he was. That’s James Marriott, absolutely no relation to the
hotel Marriott’s even though that’s what he likes everyone to believe. He’s an
asshole, but just the regular sort. Whatever you do, don’t call him Jim. It’s
James
.
I’ll leave you to introduce yourself.” She gave Virgil a pat on the shoulder.
“Have fun.”

Great
. Virgil stood still
for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the lighting, then walked the length of
the room, pulled out a chair one spot removed from one of the men and sat down.
He didn’t say a word. Just stared at the people at the table.

“Who the hell are you?” Marriott
said.

They were all well dressed.
Expensive suits, gold watches, sparkling jewelry, cuff links for the men,
diamond earrings for the woman. In front of each of them was a leather-bound
note pad with an embossed golden cross overlaid atop of a more subtle—but
still visible—shining sun, with the words, Sunrise Bank at the top.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Virgil heard himself say,
oh brother
.

“I asked you a question, young
man. I don’t like to repeat myself. Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Detective Virgil Jones
and I am with the Indiana State Police. I’m here to speak with—“

“Well Detective,” Marriott said,
“We know why you’re here, and believe me, we are happy to oblige you in any way
we can, but at the moment, given every thing that has happened this morning,
tragic as it is, we hope you will understand that in the immediate we are
extremely busy. So thank you very much for stopping by and, I think I speak for
everyone here when I say that we will be in touch at our earliest convenience.”

It was a pretty good effort,
Virgil had to give him that. He thought of what Margery said…
What ever you
do, don’t call him Jim
. “I understand, and I can even appreciate your
position, Jim. But here’s the thing—”

“It’s James,” Marriott said
through his teeth. Not, Jim.
James
.

“Yes, well, that’s fine. James,
then. So, as I was saying, the thing is, time is sort of critical for us. The
quicker we can—“

“Detective, you’re not listening.
The loss of Franklin this morning is going to have devastating effects on our
company unless we take immediate action. Our stock is already off over fifteen
percent since the opening bell an hour ago and our investors need to
know—need to be assured—that our company is solid. That is what we
are doing now, or rather, that is what we are trying to do. So, once again,
thank you for your interest in this matter. A representative of our
organization will be in touch with you and your people as soon as possible.
Please close the door on your way out, and take your two thugs out there with
you. I have notified our security personnel to assist you and your associates
to the door. Last time I checked, this is still private property on United
States soil and at the moment, you are not welcome here. That will be all,
Detective
.
Good day.”

Thank you for your interest?
“Just out of curiosity, Jimbo, how many of your security staff did you call?”

Marriott’s jaw was clenched, and
he hissed through his teeth. “I will not tolerate your blatant disrespect of me
and this organiza—”

“How many?” Virgil asked again.

“Six,” Marriott said, his voice
smug. “Two for each of you.”

Virgil reached into his pocket and
pulled out the papers that Rosencrantz had given him and slid them across the
table to Marriott. “That’s a search warrant. It allows us access to this
building, your offices, your computers, files, and just about anything else we
want or need to look at. Your offices are now part of a crime scene in an
on-going investigation. I suggest you forget about your stock for a few
minutes, Jim, and start assisting us with our job.”

Marriott ignored the warrant. “Who
is your supervisor, young man? I want to speak with them immediately.”

“I work for the state, Jim. I
already told you that. My boss is Cora LaRue. You’ve probably never heard of
her. A lot of people haven’t. But
her
boss is Governor McConnell. I know
you’ve heard of him. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the Governor is a past board
member of your institution and currently serves as the lead member of your team
of advisors. As I understand it, their job is to advise the board. Do I have
that right, Jim?”

“Well—”

“In other words, the Governor is
going to be advising the board as to who might make the short list for Chairman
and CEO to replace Franklin Dugan. I’m guessing you’d like to think you’re
going to make that list. Maybe even top it. I mean, look at you, you’re sitting
at the head of the table already. How am I doing so far,
Jim
?”

Marriott held up his hands in a
placating gesture. “So you’ve got some stones and you’re tough enough to stand
toe to toe with me. I admire that. So ask your questions. No one here in this
room, or in our entire organization for that matter has anything to hide, I
assure you.”

Before Virgil could respond, the
double doors at the far end of the room burst open and Donatti and Rosencrantz
marched six uniformed security guards into the room, their hands cuffed behind
their backs. Donatti smiled and said, “It’s a good thing they all had their own
cuffs. I only carry two pair myself...”

__________

 

 

It took a few moments to get
everyone calmed down, but once Virgil got Marriott’s assurance that they’d all
cooperate he told Rosencrantz and Donatti to take the guards out and un-cuff
them. Once that was all done, he looked Marriott in the eye and said, “How
about we start over?”

The woman seated directly across the
table from Virgil looked at Marriott. “Perhaps we should bring Bob in, James.
Don’t you think?”

Marriott snarled at her. “We don’t
need Bob for Christ sake.”

“Who’s Bob?” Virgil said.

“Bob Brighton. Our in-house counsel,”
the woman said. “My name is Gloria Birchmier, by the way.” She nodded in turn
to the other two men at the table. “Dick Hawthorne and Thomas Fallbrook,” she
said by way of introductions.

Virgil nodded at everyone. “So,
lay it out for me. Your organization, I mean. The four of you are the executive
committee?”

Gloria answered for the group.
“Yes. There are normally five of us. Franklin was the fifth. We have a total of
eleven board members. All from within the state, except that the others are all
from out of town. Two live in Fort Wayne, one in South Bend, and the other
three in Evansville. They are all on their way here of course, but it will be a
few hours I imagine.”

“Who notified them of Mr. Dugan’s
murder?”

“We all did,” Gloria said. “We
have a disaster plan in place. Each of us has assigned duties and
responsibilities as defined in the plan. One of those responsibilities in the
event of a disaster is immediate notification of the company’s Board of
Directors.”

“What qualifies as a disaster?”

Hawthorne spoke for the first
time. “Well, it’s pretty broad. Just about anything from any sort of natural
disaster that would affect our operations, like structural damage to our
facilities from fire, flood, tornados, things of that sort—to the sudden
death or incapacitation of anyone on the executive committee.”

“Were any of you unable to reach
the other members of the board?”

Fallbrook raised his hand. “I had
a little trouble with one of my assigns. Bill Acker. But eventually I got him.”

“Home or office?”

“Oh, it was at home. He was just
in the shower.”

“So to the best of everyone’s knowledge,
the board members who were in town this morning are all in this room, and
everyone else, everyone who lives out of town were all…well, out of town?”
Everyone nodded.

“Yes, I believe that’s correct,”
Gloria said. “Why?”

“Because I’m trying to figure out
who killed your boss, Ms. Birchmier.”

Gloria put a hand to her throat.
“And you think one of us did it?”

Marriott swore under his breath
then picked up the phone and punched one of the buttons. “Margery…get Bob
Brighton in here. Now.”

__________

 

 

Sunrise Bank’s chief legal officer,
Bob Brighton entered the conference room a few minutes later. Brighton was
short, not much over five feet tall, and gone to fat. His hair was gray and
kinky, he wore a yellow bow tie and his pants were about an inch too short.

“How do you do, Detective?”

“I’m well, thank you Mr. Brighton.
Your executive committee thought it might be best if you sat in for a few of my
questions.”

“Indeed. Please, proceed.”

“He thinks one of us killed
Franklin,” Gloria said.

Brighton raised his eyebrows at
me, and a small grin formed at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s not exactly accurate,”
Virgil said.

Gloria pointed a finger at me. “It
is too accurate. You said so yourself.”

“No, Ms. Birchmier, what I said
was that I am trying to figure out who killed Mr. Dugan. You were the one who
asked if I thought any of you did it, not me.”

“Well, the implication was quite
clear, Detective.”

Brighton cut in. “Correct me if
I’m wrong, Detective, but these types of investigations are usually conducted,
um, what’s the best way to put it? By process of elimination, isn’t that
correct?”

I nodded. “That’s often true. But,
keep in mind, we also look at the question of ‘who benefits?’ So let me ask all
of you this: with Franklin Dugan now deceased, who gets the big chair? Who is
going to be Chairman of the Board and CEO of Sunrise Bank?”

“The Board will have to vote on
that,” Hawthorne said. “But undoubtedly, it would be one of us.”

“Okay, so what happens if there’s
a tie with the vote?”

“Then we would revert to the
question of who holds the most stock. It’s in the charter.”

“So who holds the most stock?”
Virgil said, even though he thought he knew the answer.

Marriott rubbed his forehead with
the fingertips of both hands. “I do.”

__________

 

 

Virgil had everyone except
Marriott and Brighton leave the room. When they were gone, Marriott shook his
head. “I didn’t kill him. Hell, I was up at six and gone by six-thirty at the
latest. I went to the club, worked out, and then ate a light breakfast in the
dining room. Gloria called me on my cell and told me the news. Plus, there must
have been about ten or twenty people who saw me from the time I walked in the
club until I left.”

None of Virgil’s follow-up questions
for Marriott lead them anywhere at all, so he pulled at another thread. “I’d
like to ask you about Samuel Pate.”

Marriott snuffed at the mention of
Pate’s name. “So ask.”

“Well,” Virgil said, “What I’d
really like is your general, overall impression of the man.”

Marriott leaned in, his forearms
on the edge of the table. “Detective, we have a rather unique business model
here at Sunrise. No other financial institution in the country does what we do.
Now, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying—there are plenty of banks out
there that lend money to churches and religious institutions all across the
U.S. But we are the only one that does it exclusively.”

“If you have a point, Mr.
Marriott, so far it’s lost on me.”

“My point is simple, Detective. We
are as close as you could come to being called a private bank. We vigorously
protect our assets and those of our clients. Confidentiality at our institution
is held at the highest regard. I’m quite sure you understand.”

“I’m not asking for his
financials, Mr. Marriott. I’m asking for your general impression of the man.”

Marriott looked at Virgil for a
full minute before he spoke. “He doesn’t let much get in his way, I’ll say that
about the man. But that’s all I’ll say.”

__________

 

 

Finished with Marriott, Virgil
stepped out of the conference room and found Rosencrantz and Donatti seated in
the reception area, two empty plates of shrimp tails on the coffee table by
their knees.

“Get what we needed?” Virgil said.

“Right here boss,” Donatti said.
“All of Pate’s financial history with the bank.” He handed him a file folder.

“Okay, I want you guys out at the
scene to help with the canvass. Ron should still be there. Widen it out as far
as possible. All we’ve got so far is Sandy’s report of a white panel van of
some kind. If we can get a plate, or even a partial, we’d have something solid.”

Other books

Protect Me by Lacey Black
The Workhouse Girl by Dilly Court
Sarasota Dreams by Mayne, Debby
El Triunfo by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Indiscretion by Charles Dubow
Fang: A Maximum Ride Novel by James Patterson