enforcement. Or maybe it’s my fault. I often let him ask the difficult questions for me.”
“Maybe if we started at the beginning,” Cora said.
Pearson let out a heavy sigh, then started over. “We don’t think this attack, these murders…we don’t think the Governor was targeted. At all. We want to be clear on that. There may be political implications, and we’d like it handled in a manner befitting the office of the Governor of the State of Indiana.”
I don’t like Bradley Pearson. I know of no one who does. “I’m not sure what that means, Bradley. And who exactly is Franklin Dugan?” I asked. “The name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it.”
“He is, I mean was, the President of Sunrise Bank,” the Governor said. “He was also one of my closest friends.” I saw Pearson look at the Governor with an expression on his face that indicated there was more. The Governor seemed to notice too, because he puffed out his cheeks, exhaled loudly through his mouth and said, “He was also one of my biggest campaign contributors.
“I want you to catch this son of a bitch, Jonesy,” the Governor said. “Or kill him. Sooner the better. Elections are only nine months away, and voters have a memory for this kind of thing.”
“Especially if your platform was a reduction in capitol crime,” Cora added. Sort of dry.
I winced when she said it, but the governor just pointed a finger at her and said, “Exactly.” He stood, shot his cuffs and made a circular motion with his hand at Pearson. “Cora will fill you in on the details, Jonesy. I appreciate your efforts. You’re sure Sandy’s okay?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. Thought, hmm, again.
The governor shook his head and looked at no one. “Jesus, Barney Burns. Who’d have ever thought…” Then to Pearson. “Where’s officer Cauliflower? Perhaps he can clear us a path out of here so we can get downtown.”
I looked at Cora and was about to say something when Pearson stuck his head back in. “Uh, I just want to be sure we’re clear on something. The Governor, when he said ‘catch him or kill him’….what he was really saying was ‘catch him.’ Just so we’re clear on that, okay?”
Once Pearson was finally gone, I looked at Cora and said, “What aren’t they saying?”
“You never answered Pearson’s question. What do you know about Sunrise Bank?”
“What’s to know? They’re a bank, just like any other, aren’t they?”
Cora pursed her lips. “In many ways, they are. But did you know that there’s a bank up in the northern part of the state-I can’t remember the name-but they’re based out of South Bend. Strictly local, people walk in and out all day and deposit their checks, take out loans, the whole thing. Just a regular local bank, but, they also happen to be the third largest specialty financer in the entire country. Garbage trucks, rental cars, aircraft for regional air carriers, the works. If it runs or flies, they’ve got their hand in it.”
“Fascinating stuff, Cora, really. But what does that have to do with Sunrise or Dugan?”
“Care to guess where Pate’s ministry does their banking?”
“So like the bank up in South Bend, Sunrise does specialty financing, right?”
“You got it, Jones man. And it’s big business, at least according to the Governor. We’re talking billions of dollars in outstanding loans to religious institutions all across the country. Big, big stuff.”
I thought about that for a few minutes. “If they’re doing that much business, what’s the tie-in with Pate? He’s regional at best. Why has his name come up?”
“Pate just borrowed over five million dollars from Dugan’s bank to buy a run down church in Broad Ripple.”
“Maybe I’m not quite the detective I think I am, because I still don’t see how that would make Pate a suspect.”
“Maybe you should go over to Dugan’s office and look things over. You’ll probably revise your last statement after you do. I’ve attached his office as part of the crime scene and I sent Rosencrantz and Donatti over there as soon as I heard what happened out here. They’ve got his office locked down and are personally standing guard outside until you get there. There are only two things on Dugan’s desk. One is a copy of Pate’s financials and the other is a copy of a Texas Department of Insurance investigator’s report. They have an open file on him. He started his ministry there five years ago with the proceeds from an insurance claim that paid out over a million bucks when his Houston church turned to a pile of ash one night. He brought the money here and set up shop all over again. He calls it Grace Community Church, and it’s mortgaged to the hilt.
“And the church over in Broad Ripple? The one he just bought? It looks like it’s being held together with baling twine. I think they have a congregation of about thirty people, all dirt poor. The building is about to be condemned by the city, the lot can’t be worth more than about fifty grand and the victim, Franklin Dugan is the one who approved the loan to Pate. He’s also the guy who financed the vast majority of the Governor’s campaign when he ran for office. Word on the street is ol’ Sermon Sam is thinking about making a run at the Governor’s chair. A quick five million would make a nice campaign starter fund, don’t you think?”
Then, as if she hadn’t quite made her point clear to me, she added, “Politics. It’s good stuff, huh? By the way, Rosencrantz says the bank is calling an emergency board meeting. Should be starting anytime now. You might want to stop by at some point. When you get there, ask for Margery Brennan. She’s Dugan’s secretary, or personal assistant or whatever they’re called these days. Keep me in the loop, will you?”
I walked outside and back down to the street and saw Sandy at the back of an EMS van getting her blood pressure taken. The two news helicopters still circled overhead, their news feeds probably streaming live video of the scene direct to anyone who had their television set turned on, though there wasn’t much to be seen from the air. The crime scene technicians had erected two tents with side flaps, one covering Dugan’s body at the end of his drive, the other over the top of Trooper Burns and his squad car. I estimated a total of about fifty uniformed officers on the scene from all three jurisdictions, City, County, and State. Metro Homicide would be in charge of the scene, and my team, while technically over the Metro Homicide Task Force, would do what we do best: work the fringes, the areas outside of normal investigative procedures.
I got to Sandy just as the paramedics were finishing up. “How you doin?”
“I’m okay. Jesus, what a mess, huh?”
“That about says it. So, you’ve had a little while to think about it. Give me something I can use,” I said.
The paramedic interrupted. “If it can wait, I’d like to get her downtown. Her blood pressure is off the charts. I mean way up, and so is her pulse. You said you bumped your head, Miss?”
Sandy shot the medic a look. “It’s Detective. And yes, I bumped my head, but it’s no big deal. It doesn’t even hurt.”
“Nevertheless, we’ve got to have you looked at. You may be concussed. The docs will know for sure.”
Sandy turned to me. “Jonesy, can you do something about this?”
“I sure can. See you at the hospital.”
“Jonesy.”
“No way, Sandy. You’re going. That’s a direct order.”
“Okay, okay. But listen, before I do, you said you wanted something you could use. I think we’ve got two shooters, both with silenced weapons. The shots were muffled, like a quiet backfire from a car engine. Not even that loud really. The loudest thing I heard was the ratcheting cycle after the shots. If it wasn’t for that, I might not have even thought they were shots at all, you know?”
“Why two shooters?”
“Well, it’s the sequence. I’ve been going over it in my head. First I heard a pop, then another pop before I heard the cycle action. Then there were two more pops closer together and two fast ratcheting sounds. So that means one shot from something, a rifle maybe, that doesn’t cycle. Something with a bolt action? I’ll tell you something else too, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that the first pop sounded different-quieter- than the rest. So, two victims, two guns, two shooters, right?”
“Sounds right. But, you know, if you heard it wrong, missed the first ratchet because you weren’t listening for it…”
“No, I wondered about that. But I didn’t miss it. It was quiet this morning. I was quiet. And I was close.”
“Okay. You can write it up later. Right now you’re going in to get checked out.”
