Deadly Distractions, page 11
"Like, do you own a shotgun?"
"Sure, I do a little dove hunting each year."
"A Remington?"
"I’ve got a Remington and a Winchester."
"Have you ever been to the Double T Ranch?"
"No."
"Do you remember where you were on the afternoon of July 11?"
He grinned. "Watching your partner on TV just like everybody else."
"Where was the TV?"
"In my office at the clubhouse."
"Were you alone?"
He nodded. "Unfortunately. I wasn’t giving any lessons so I was catching up on paperwork."
Milborn had ample motive to kill Agent Tuttle but he didn’t seem angry enough to do it. Of course, at the time his wife’s bank account was garnished his attitude might have been different—particularly if his wife was the emotional type. Whether Milborn was guilty or not, his lack of an alibi could create some reasonable doubt. It occurred to me that his wife could have done it too.
"Did your wife ever go hunting with you?"
"No. She didn’t like killing animals—strictly skeet shooting for her."
"What kind of a car does she drive?"
"A Mercedes"
"Gray?"
"No, silver."
It didn’t seem likely that Lorraine was the killer, but she did drive the right kind of car. In my experience as an assistant DA, I had learned that women didn’t kill as often as men but, when they did, a shotgun wouldn’t be the weapon of choice. They would more likely go for poisoning, a knife, or a small hand gun. I did make note that I needed to find out Lorraine's whereabouts when Agent Tuttle was killed. I thought of Monty and wished he were around to help me with some of this legwork. There was way too much for one person to handle. I should have hired another investigator already, but that would have given the appearance that I had given up on Stan and Monty’s safe return. That would have upset Jodie and Rebekah, and they didn’t need any more trauma right then.
For the umpteenth time I asked myself—Where in the hell could they be? Why hasn’t the kidnapper called and asked for money? Something just didn’t add up. What it was, I didn’t know, but I did know I couldn’t afford to lose my focus. I couldn’t let anything distract me from my primary objective of proving Dusty Thomas innocent.
14
INTERROGATION
Two soldiers rushed toward us. They talked excitedly and then motioned for us to stand. We both stood, and they escorted us down the aisle and off the plane. A black Volvo was just pulling up alongside the plane when we stepped out onto the runway. Agents Logan and Cox got out of the car and walked over to us. Although they were our adversaries back in the USA, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. At least now I knew we’d get home safely. Monty was all smiles as he pumped Logan’s hand.
"Boy, are we glad to see you two," Logan said. "Where have you been?"
"Locked up in some dungeon somewhere," I said.
"Really? Who kidnapped you?"
I shrugged. "You got me. They weren’t very communicative. I have no idea what they wanted from us."
Logan looked at me warily. "How did you get away?"
I put my hand on Monty’s shoulder. "Luckily I brought Monty along. He managed to figure out a way to escape. As soon as we got loose, we came straight to the airport."
Logan gave Monty a hard look, then smiled and shook his head.
"That's unbelievable. The police, the government—everybody’s been scouring the city for you two."
Monty shook his head. "The guards obviously didn’t have much training or discipline. I just had to wait for the right moment to catch them off guard. It wasn’t difficult."
Cox looked at us with genuine concern in her eyes, "Are you two all right. Do you need any medical attention?"
"No," I replied. "We’re okay. They didn’t really hurt us, just didn’t feed us much. I bet I lost 20 lbs." I smiled and rubbed my stomach. "Luckily I had a little extra stored away. Find us a nice steak dinner and we’ll be fine."
"I am sure that won’t be a problem," Cox said.
Agent Logan motioned for us to get in the car so we did. The driver drove us back to the terminal and we were escorted to a private lounge. Logan kept pressing for information about our captors but I was reluctant to tell him the truth about our mission to Ecuador, so I pled ignorance as much as possible.
"So why didn’t you just let us stay on the plane and catch up with us back in Dallas?" I asked.
"For security reasons," Logan replied. "When the word got out that you were on the way home a mob of people started gathering at Love Field. We have a government jet waiting to take you back to Dallas. We’ll land at Addison Airport and avoid the melee."
They led us back out on the runway where a small Lear Jet sat waiting for takeoff. We all climbed aboard and took our seats. A lone stewardess offered us drinks and a snack. Logan continued to question me, but I told him I was tired and wanted to sleep. He finally left me alone and I closed my eyes. The Lear jet rolled down the runway and this time we took off and began our journey home. Although I was exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about what I was going to say to Logan and Cox when we got back to the states and I was forced to give them a detailed account of our time in Ecuador. I had to concoct a believable story so they would let me get back to work helping Paula defend Dusty Thomas. Monty was a problem because he might contradict me and ruin everything.
There was also the problem of Tex. He was still a captive and I was his only hope. I needed to wire money to General Moya so he’d put Tex on the next plane home, yet the FBI was obviously monitoring my account. It was a delicate situation and one miscalculation could be disastrous. As our plane glided effortlessly through the sky, I finally fell into a shallow slumber. The plane’s sudden descent awakened me. It seemed like we were getting ready to land but we couldn’t possibly be back to Dallas. I looked over at Logan and saw him straining to see something out of the window. Curious, I looked out my window but saw nothing but ocean. Then I noticed land in the distance.
Looking at Logan again I said, "Are we landing?"
He looked up and smiled. "Yes, we need to refuel."
I nodded but the explanation didn’t make a lot of sense. We’d only been flying a couple of hours and I didn’t think we could possibly be out of gas."
Monty whispered, "Bullshit. One of these babies can fly 3,000 miles easy before refueling."
Alarmed, I glanced out the window again and saw a large bay and what appeared to be an airstrip on one of its fingers."
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Naval Base Guantanamo," Logan replied.
"We’re in Cuba?"
"Right," Logan said as the plane lunged forward into a steeper descent. I didn’t know what to think about landing in Cuba. It wasn’t exactly on the way to Dallas.
Monty whispered. "This is where they run our anti drug trafficking and antiterrorism operations for South America and the Carribean."
"You don’t think—?"
My thought was interrupted by the jolt of the plane landing. I gave Monty a worried look. Cox and Logan were whispering something. As we taxied toward a building in the distance, I realized we hadn’t come here for gas. We were here for our debriefing and whether or not we ever left depended on what we told our interrogators. It was obvious to me now. They perceived us as enemies of the state because of our CDA backing and our mission to Ecuador. If they wanted, they could report that we had been killed by our kidnappers and no one would be the wiser. Oh, God. Would I ever see Rebekah and the kids again? I looked at Monty as the plane came to a stop. I regretted that he had been dragged into this mess. I cursed the CDA for their exploitation of Dusty Thomas and vowed someday to pay them back for the chaos they’d brought to my life.
15
BODYGUARDS
On Friday, August 8 Rebekah called and said she’d heard from Stan; I was elated. Finally he’d be home and we could get down to business. Although I had been working hard on the investigation for several weeks, I didn’t really feel like I had accomplished much. I needed to brainstorm with Stan and figure out the direction our investigation should be going. But after two days had passed and Stan and Monty were still missing, I was devastated. Stan had told Rebekah they were getting on a plane and would be home late that evening. What could have happened to them?
I called Agent Cox to see if she knew anything but I was told she was out of town on assignment. Logan apparently was with her as he was also unavailable. The airlines weren’t much help either. They said Stan and Monty were on the plane when it left Quito but they didn’t make their connecting flight from Miami to Dallas. Rebekah understandably was beside herself having had her hopes raised and then dashed.
Despite a bad case of depression, I had no choice but to keep working. Dusty and Martha were depending on me and I couldn’t let them down. As I was flipping through my notebook to decide who I still needed to question, I heard a commotion outside. Jodie went to the door and opened it.
"What the hell?" she said.
I got up and joined her at the front door. There was a crowd of reporters and a TV crew filming two men with shotguns holding an impromptu news conference.
"My name is Nathan Block. I’m the press secretary for Raymond Farr and the CDA. With me here today is Ronald Jack, our chief security officer. We have been advised by informed sources that Stan Turner and Monty Dozier have been taken into custody by agents of the United States government and are being held as political prisoners. The purpose of their detention and illegal incarceration is to obstruct and tamper with the trial of Dusty Thomas. It is clear that the government intends to convict Dusty Thomas without regard to his guilt or innocence and have taken steps to deny him his constitutional right to counsel of his choice.
"Our most honorable leader, Raymond Farr, has instructed myself and Ronald Jack to provide security for Miss Paula Waters during the duration of the Dusty Thomas case. The CDA will not allow the federal government to abduct her as they have her co-counsel, Stan Turner. This flagrant violation of our Constitution will not be tolerated. Thank you."
"Mr. Block!" a reporter yelled. "How do you know Stan Turner was taken into custody by the federal government?"
"We have reliable sources within the federal government who have confirmed that Stan Turner and Monty Bozier were taken off a commercial flight which would have brought them back to Dallas, and taken to an undisclosed location to be held indefinitely."
"Who are these sources?" the reporter asked.
"Obviously we cannot disclose who they are as that would compromise them. But, I will assure you these are extremely reliable sources high up the federal government. You should ask the FBI to deny that they have Mr. Turner and Mr. Dozier in custody."
Jodie closed the door and we went back into my office. The phone was ringing so Jodie picked it up. She indicated it was a reporter wanting to talk to me. I motioned for her to take a message.
"This is all I need—the damn CDA following me around everywhere I go," I said.
Jodie raised her eyebrows and said, "I don’t know. A little security couldn’t hurt after everything that has happened."
"I know," I said, "but we’ve been trying to distance ourselves from the CDA. Having them hanging around isn’t good."
"Well, tell them you don’t want their help then."
"Somehow I don’t think they would take too kindly to that. It would just piss them off and we don’t need any more enemies," I said, "especially a bunch of anarchist. . . . I guess I’ll just have to live with it."
"Do you think the Feds have Stan and Monty?"
I replied, "No, that’s ridiculous. Why would they do that? Besides there is a court order prohibiting them from messing with us."
Jodie shrugged. "But why—"
"The CDA will do or say anything if they think it will help their cause. They don’t have a clue where Stan and Monty are. As usual, they are trying to take advantage of the situation."
Jodie raised her eyebrows, shook her head, and went back to whatever she was doing. I started flipping through my notebook again. A notation about a charitable foundation jumped out at me. What charitable foundation? I hadn’t talked to Bobby’s supervisor Robert Perkins yet so I decided to ask him. Perkins agreed to meet me at his office downtown in the Federal Building. When I left the office my two CDA bodyguards, an FBI agent, and several press vehicles followed me. I felt like I was leading a funeral procession.
Perkins was younger than I expected—late thirties maybe. He escorted me to a conference room and asked if I’d like something to drink. I asked for a glass of water.
"So, now that you’ve been at it awhile, do you still think your client is innocent?" Perkins asked.
"Absolutely. Dusty Thomas is a very kind and gentle man. He isn’t capable of murder."
Perkins chuckled. "Bobby Tuttle could have driven a Buddhist monk to murder. He was our best collector. He put the fear of God into each and every taxpayer who crossed his path. Once they became his target, they would do anything to get the taxes paid just to get him off their back."
"That’s what I understand, but any one of those other taxpayers could just have easily murdered him."
"But they weren’t found hovering over the body."
I ignored his comment and said, "I’m particularly interested in a charitable organization he was after. Do you know who I’m talking about?"
"The People’s Mission. Bobby’s has been after them for years. They are a so-called church, but the organization is really just a front for some high-rollers trying to avoid paying taxes."
"How many people are involved in the People’s Mission?" I asked.
"Maybe fifty or so."
"Who’s the ring leader?"
"A guy named Riley Davidson started it. He’s actually in the real estate business but he operates out of his nonprofit corporation. Tuttle was in the process of auditing Davidson’s corporation as well as several other members."
"Davidson ever make threats or get violent?" I asked.
"Yes, he’s very self-righteous and outspoken about the propriety of what he is doing. One of his relatives, a cousin I think, is an attorney and set the whole thing up. The corporation takes care of all his expenses both personal and business so he has no need for a salary. All the real estate income goes to the corporation. Since it claims to be a nonprofit corporation it pays no taxes."
"Wow. What a deal."
"Anyway, Tuttle disallowed a slew of personal expenses paid by the corporation and assessed it penalties and interest. Of course, he appealed and I don’t think a final ruling has come down yet."
"How did Davidson take it?"
"He screamed and yelled and claimed religious persecution. I think he contacted his congressman."
"Does he really practice a religion?"
"I guess. He talks like a preacher, but I don’t think he is affiliated with any reputable church in this country."
Perkins and I talked for quite awhile. I got a lot of background information on Tuttle’s service with the Internal Revenue Service and personal life. He also told me how to get in contact with Davidson. I seemed to be gathering quite a list of suspects, each who had sufficient motives to kill Tuttle. While I was downtown, I stopped into the DA’s office to see Bart Williams. It was time for a little intelligence gathering. Bart was glad to see me and invited me to lunch. We went to a little café underneath One Main Place.
"Any word on Stan?" Bart asked.
"No, have you heard anything?"
"No, just what I read in the papers."
"What about the CDA claim that Stan has been taken into custody by the Feds?"
"Ordinarily I would say it was BS, but I heard one side of a conversation between Trenton and Logan. It sounded like they believed Stan had gone over to the dark side and would have to be treated accordingly."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"I don’t know exactly, but it didn’t sound good."
"Maybe I need to file a writ of habeas corpus and contempt motion in Judge Stanton’s court. I don’t think he would take kindly to the government taking Stan into custody."
"He wouldn’t, unless there was evidence that Stan was doing something wrong."
"But he wasn’t."
"What was he doing in Quito?" Bart asked.
One of the risks in discussing the Dusty Thomas case with Bart was he was just as liable to get confidential information out of me as I was from him. I didn’t want the prosecutor to know why Stan went to Quito but if I didn’t come up with some plausible explanation, Bart would think it was related to the CDA or Dusty Thomas.
"Sure, I do a little dove hunting each year."
"A Remington?"
"I’ve got a Remington and a Winchester."
"Have you ever been to the Double T Ranch?"
"No."
"Do you remember where you were on the afternoon of July 11?"
He grinned. "Watching your partner on TV just like everybody else."
"Where was the TV?"
"In my office at the clubhouse."
"Were you alone?"
He nodded. "Unfortunately. I wasn’t giving any lessons so I was catching up on paperwork."
Milborn had ample motive to kill Agent Tuttle but he didn’t seem angry enough to do it. Of course, at the time his wife’s bank account was garnished his attitude might have been different—particularly if his wife was the emotional type. Whether Milborn was guilty or not, his lack of an alibi could create some reasonable doubt. It occurred to me that his wife could have done it too.
"Did your wife ever go hunting with you?"
"No. She didn’t like killing animals—strictly skeet shooting for her."
"What kind of a car does she drive?"
"A Mercedes"
"Gray?"
"No, silver."
It didn’t seem likely that Lorraine was the killer, but she did drive the right kind of car. In my experience as an assistant DA, I had learned that women didn’t kill as often as men but, when they did, a shotgun wouldn’t be the weapon of choice. They would more likely go for poisoning, a knife, or a small hand gun. I did make note that I needed to find out Lorraine's whereabouts when Agent Tuttle was killed. I thought of Monty and wished he were around to help me with some of this legwork. There was way too much for one person to handle. I should have hired another investigator already, but that would have given the appearance that I had given up on Stan and Monty’s safe return. That would have upset Jodie and Rebekah, and they didn’t need any more trauma right then.
For the umpteenth time I asked myself—Where in the hell could they be? Why hasn’t the kidnapper called and asked for money? Something just didn’t add up. What it was, I didn’t know, but I did know I couldn’t afford to lose my focus. I couldn’t let anything distract me from my primary objective of proving Dusty Thomas innocent.
14
INTERROGATION
Two soldiers rushed toward us. They talked excitedly and then motioned for us to stand. We both stood, and they escorted us down the aisle and off the plane. A black Volvo was just pulling up alongside the plane when we stepped out onto the runway. Agents Logan and Cox got out of the car and walked over to us. Although they were our adversaries back in the USA, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. At least now I knew we’d get home safely. Monty was all smiles as he pumped Logan’s hand.
"Boy, are we glad to see you two," Logan said. "Where have you been?"
"Locked up in some dungeon somewhere," I said.
"Really? Who kidnapped you?"
I shrugged. "You got me. They weren’t very communicative. I have no idea what they wanted from us."
Logan looked at me warily. "How did you get away?"
I put my hand on Monty’s shoulder. "Luckily I brought Monty along. He managed to figure out a way to escape. As soon as we got loose, we came straight to the airport."
Logan gave Monty a hard look, then smiled and shook his head.
"That's unbelievable. The police, the government—everybody’s been scouring the city for you two."
Monty shook his head. "The guards obviously didn’t have much training or discipline. I just had to wait for the right moment to catch them off guard. It wasn’t difficult."
Cox looked at us with genuine concern in her eyes, "Are you two all right. Do you need any medical attention?"
"No," I replied. "We’re okay. They didn’t really hurt us, just didn’t feed us much. I bet I lost 20 lbs." I smiled and rubbed my stomach. "Luckily I had a little extra stored away. Find us a nice steak dinner and we’ll be fine."
"I am sure that won’t be a problem," Cox said.
Agent Logan motioned for us to get in the car so we did. The driver drove us back to the terminal and we were escorted to a private lounge. Logan kept pressing for information about our captors but I was reluctant to tell him the truth about our mission to Ecuador, so I pled ignorance as much as possible.
"So why didn’t you just let us stay on the plane and catch up with us back in Dallas?" I asked.
"For security reasons," Logan replied. "When the word got out that you were on the way home a mob of people started gathering at Love Field. We have a government jet waiting to take you back to Dallas. We’ll land at Addison Airport and avoid the melee."
They led us back out on the runway where a small Lear Jet sat waiting for takeoff. We all climbed aboard and took our seats. A lone stewardess offered us drinks and a snack. Logan continued to question me, but I told him I was tired and wanted to sleep. He finally left me alone and I closed my eyes. The Lear jet rolled down the runway and this time we took off and began our journey home. Although I was exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about what I was going to say to Logan and Cox when we got back to the states and I was forced to give them a detailed account of our time in Ecuador. I had to concoct a believable story so they would let me get back to work helping Paula defend Dusty Thomas. Monty was a problem because he might contradict me and ruin everything.
There was also the problem of Tex. He was still a captive and I was his only hope. I needed to wire money to General Moya so he’d put Tex on the next plane home, yet the FBI was obviously monitoring my account. It was a delicate situation and one miscalculation could be disastrous. As our plane glided effortlessly through the sky, I finally fell into a shallow slumber. The plane’s sudden descent awakened me. It seemed like we were getting ready to land but we couldn’t possibly be back to Dallas. I looked over at Logan and saw him straining to see something out of the window. Curious, I looked out my window but saw nothing but ocean. Then I noticed land in the distance.
Looking at Logan again I said, "Are we landing?"
He looked up and smiled. "Yes, we need to refuel."
I nodded but the explanation didn’t make a lot of sense. We’d only been flying a couple of hours and I didn’t think we could possibly be out of gas."
Monty whispered, "Bullshit. One of these babies can fly 3,000 miles easy before refueling."
Alarmed, I glanced out the window again and saw a large bay and what appeared to be an airstrip on one of its fingers."
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Naval Base Guantanamo," Logan replied.
"We’re in Cuba?"
"Right," Logan said as the plane lunged forward into a steeper descent. I didn’t know what to think about landing in Cuba. It wasn’t exactly on the way to Dallas.
Monty whispered. "This is where they run our anti drug trafficking and antiterrorism operations for South America and the Carribean."
"You don’t think—?"
My thought was interrupted by the jolt of the plane landing. I gave Monty a worried look. Cox and Logan were whispering something. As we taxied toward a building in the distance, I realized we hadn’t come here for gas. We were here for our debriefing and whether or not we ever left depended on what we told our interrogators. It was obvious to me now. They perceived us as enemies of the state because of our CDA backing and our mission to Ecuador. If they wanted, they could report that we had been killed by our kidnappers and no one would be the wiser. Oh, God. Would I ever see Rebekah and the kids again? I looked at Monty as the plane came to a stop. I regretted that he had been dragged into this mess. I cursed the CDA for their exploitation of Dusty Thomas and vowed someday to pay them back for the chaos they’d brought to my life.
15
BODYGUARDS
On Friday, August 8 Rebekah called and said she’d heard from Stan; I was elated. Finally he’d be home and we could get down to business. Although I had been working hard on the investigation for several weeks, I didn’t really feel like I had accomplished much. I needed to brainstorm with Stan and figure out the direction our investigation should be going. But after two days had passed and Stan and Monty were still missing, I was devastated. Stan had told Rebekah they were getting on a plane and would be home late that evening. What could have happened to them?
I called Agent Cox to see if she knew anything but I was told she was out of town on assignment. Logan apparently was with her as he was also unavailable. The airlines weren’t much help either. They said Stan and Monty were on the plane when it left Quito but they didn’t make their connecting flight from Miami to Dallas. Rebekah understandably was beside herself having had her hopes raised and then dashed.
Despite a bad case of depression, I had no choice but to keep working. Dusty and Martha were depending on me and I couldn’t let them down. As I was flipping through my notebook to decide who I still needed to question, I heard a commotion outside. Jodie went to the door and opened it.
"What the hell?" she said.
I got up and joined her at the front door. There was a crowd of reporters and a TV crew filming two men with shotguns holding an impromptu news conference.
"My name is Nathan Block. I’m the press secretary for Raymond Farr and the CDA. With me here today is Ronald Jack, our chief security officer. We have been advised by informed sources that Stan Turner and Monty Dozier have been taken into custody by agents of the United States government and are being held as political prisoners. The purpose of their detention and illegal incarceration is to obstruct and tamper with the trial of Dusty Thomas. It is clear that the government intends to convict Dusty Thomas without regard to his guilt or innocence and have taken steps to deny him his constitutional right to counsel of his choice.
"Our most honorable leader, Raymond Farr, has instructed myself and Ronald Jack to provide security for Miss Paula Waters during the duration of the Dusty Thomas case. The CDA will not allow the federal government to abduct her as they have her co-counsel, Stan Turner. This flagrant violation of our Constitution will not be tolerated. Thank you."
"Mr. Block!" a reporter yelled. "How do you know Stan Turner was taken into custody by the federal government?"
"We have reliable sources within the federal government who have confirmed that Stan Turner and Monty Bozier were taken off a commercial flight which would have brought them back to Dallas, and taken to an undisclosed location to be held indefinitely."
"Who are these sources?" the reporter asked.
"Obviously we cannot disclose who they are as that would compromise them. But, I will assure you these are extremely reliable sources high up the federal government. You should ask the FBI to deny that they have Mr. Turner and Mr. Dozier in custody."
Jodie closed the door and we went back into my office. The phone was ringing so Jodie picked it up. She indicated it was a reporter wanting to talk to me. I motioned for her to take a message.
"This is all I need—the damn CDA following me around everywhere I go," I said.
Jodie raised her eyebrows and said, "I don’t know. A little security couldn’t hurt after everything that has happened."
"I know," I said, "but we’ve been trying to distance ourselves from the CDA. Having them hanging around isn’t good."
"Well, tell them you don’t want their help then."
"Somehow I don’t think they would take too kindly to that. It would just piss them off and we don’t need any more enemies," I said, "especially a bunch of anarchist. . . . I guess I’ll just have to live with it."
"Do you think the Feds have Stan and Monty?"
I replied, "No, that’s ridiculous. Why would they do that? Besides there is a court order prohibiting them from messing with us."
Jodie shrugged. "But why—"
"The CDA will do or say anything if they think it will help their cause. They don’t have a clue where Stan and Monty are. As usual, they are trying to take advantage of the situation."
Jodie raised her eyebrows, shook her head, and went back to whatever she was doing. I started flipping through my notebook again. A notation about a charitable foundation jumped out at me. What charitable foundation? I hadn’t talked to Bobby’s supervisor Robert Perkins yet so I decided to ask him. Perkins agreed to meet me at his office downtown in the Federal Building. When I left the office my two CDA bodyguards, an FBI agent, and several press vehicles followed me. I felt like I was leading a funeral procession.
Perkins was younger than I expected—late thirties maybe. He escorted me to a conference room and asked if I’d like something to drink. I asked for a glass of water.
"So, now that you’ve been at it awhile, do you still think your client is innocent?" Perkins asked.
"Absolutely. Dusty Thomas is a very kind and gentle man. He isn’t capable of murder."
Perkins chuckled. "Bobby Tuttle could have driven a Buddhist monk to murder. He was our best collector. He put the fear of God into each and every taxpayer who crossed his path. Once they became his target, they would do anything to get the taxes paid just to get him off their back."
"That’s what I understand, but any one of those other taxpayers could just have easily murdered him."
"But they weren’t found hovering over the body."
I ignored his comment and said, "I’m particularly interested in a charitable organization he was after. Do you know who I’m talking about?"
"The People’s Mission. Bobby’s has been after them for years. They are a so-called church, but the organization is really just a front for some high-rollers trying to avoid paying taxes."
"How many people are involved in the People’s Mission?" I asked.
"Maybe fifty or so."
"Who’s the ring leader?"
"A guy named Riley Davidson started it. He’s actually in the real estate business but he operates out of his nonprofit corporation. Tuttle was in the process of auditing Davidson’s corporation as well as several other members."
"Davidson ever make threats or get violent?" I asked.
"Yes, he’s very self-righteous and outspoken about the propriety of what he is doing. One of his relatives, a cousin I think, is an attorney and set the whole thing up. The corporation takes care of all his expenses both personal and business so he has no need for a salary. All the real estate income goes to the corporation. Since it claims to be a nonprofit corporation it pays no taxes."
"Wow. What a deal."
"Anyway, Tuttle disallowed a slew of personal expenses paid by the corporation and assessed it penalties and interest. Of course, he appealed and I don’t think a final ruling has come down yet."
"How did Davidson take it?"
"He screamed and yelled and claimed religious persecution. I think he contacted his congressman."
"Does he really practice a religion?"
"I guess. He talks like a preacher, but I don’t think he is affiliated with any reputable church in this country."
Perkins and I talked for quite awhile. I got a lot of background information on Tuttle’s service with the Internal Revenue Service and personal life. He also told me how to get in contact with Davidson. I seemed to be gathering quite a list of suspects, each who had sufficient motives to kill Tuttle. While I was downtown, I stopped into the DA’s office to see Bart Williams. It was time for a little intelligence gathering. Bart was glad to see me and invited me to lunch. We went to a little café underneath One Main Place.
"Any word on Stan?" Bart asked.
"No, have you heard anything?"
"No, just what I read in the papers."
"What about the CDA claim that Stan has been taken into custody by the Feds?"
"Ordinarily I would say it was BS, but I heard one side of a conversation between Trenton and Logan. It sounded like they believed Stan had gone over to the dark side and would have to be treated accordingly."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"I don’t know exactly, but it didn’t sound good."
"Maybe I need to file a writ of habeas corpus and contempt motion in Judge Stanton’s court. I don’t think he would take kindly to the government taking Stan into custody."
"He wouldn’t, unless there was evidence that Stan was doing something wrong."
"But he wasn’t."
"What was he doing in Quito?" Bart asked.
One of the risks in discussing the Dusty Thomas case with Bart was he was just as liable to get confidential information out of me as I was from him. I didn’t want the prosecutor to know why Stan went to Quito but if I didn’t come up with some plausible explanation, Bart would think it was related to the CDA or Dusty Thomas.
