I heard the doors close soundly behind us after Dorchester and I entered McCarren’s office, which was as ridiculous as the rest of the office building. I never harbored ill will toward people who were successful, but this was a man who I felt probably didn’t come by it honestly, and I’d have a problem with that all day, every day.
“Gentlemen,” McCarren said, attempting to be polite. “Larkin and Thompson will be here momentarily, but I can tell you that none of us will be answering a single question until our legal council arrives.”
I looked at Dorchester and said, “That didn’t take him long to find new representation.”
“Spizer’s body hasn’t even made it to the funeral home yet,” Dorchester remarked.
“Excuse me?” McCarren asked. “Spizer? Rick Spizer is dead?” I had to hand it to him; he sounded genuinely shocked.
“You didn’t know?” I asked skeptically. It wasn’t that I expected Dinah Spizer to contact his clients, but surely word had gotten around in their close circle. People of his magnitude of wealth usually kept their thumbs on the pulse of everyone and everything around them. The death of his lead counsel was no small piece of news.
“I-I have been out of town for months, Detective. I don’t care for Ohio winters at my age and choose to spend them in warmer climes.” He shook his head in disbelief. “How did it happen?”
“His death is still under investigation, so we’re unable to release those details at this time,” Dorchester told him.
We didn’t have long to wait until Thompson and Larkin came through the door. They bristled and tried to look like badasses, but neither Dorchester nor I were impressed or intimidated.
“Have a seat,” I told them, unwilling to waste a minute on their posturing. “We’ve been investigating a series of related deaths that have been traced back to the interest you’ve shown in building a casino in Carson County.”
“Detective, I can’t see how the failed initiative from years ago could be responsible for these deaths,” McCarren said.
I removed the letter from the file I held in my hands and laid it on the center of the highly polished conference table. “This one letter dated September of last year could be responsible for four deaths,” I told him. I saw Larkin flinch in his seat when he heard the date on the letter.
“What’s the meaning of this?” McCarren demanded of Larkin. “I didn’t authorize you to contact Lawrence Robertson on my behalf.” He looked back at me and asked, “Is Mr. Robertson one of the people who died?”
“Yes, then his house was torched because we think someone didn’t want us to know about this letter,” Dorchester added.
“Damn,” McCarren said sadly. “Lawrence was a good guy, a principled man of his word. I don’t meet many like him anymore.”
“Wait!” Larkin exclaimed. “I sent that letter because I remembered how much you wanted to build a casino there, sir. I did not kill anyone because of the letter nor did I burn anyone’s house to hide it.”
Thompson piped in and asked, “Why am I being questioned? My name isn’t on that letter. Furthermore, shouldn’t we wait for Spizer to get here?”
“He’s one of the four deaths,” McCarren told him. “They haven’t read us our rights nor have we been accused of anything. Let’s hear what the detectives have to say, and we can call a halt to it if they ask questions that make us uncomfortable.” He aimed his shrewd gaze back at me. “Start from the beginning.”
I told them what I knew and what I also suspected. “Spizer is connected to all but one person who is dead.” We still had to work out how they pulled Owen Smithson into the equation. “Larkin, you must’ve mentioned the casino deal to Spizer.”
“I did mention it to Rick one day at lunch while going over other corporate legal matters. I asked him if he thought Mr. McCarren would be pleased if I could get the talks going again. Rick told me that he thought so, and if not, he knew someone who might be interested in investing in the casino.”
“Nate Turner,” I told them. “Mr. Turner started getting death threats in November and was killed in Carson County, not too far from Robertson’s house, in January. The CPD traced the IP address used to harass Turner to an Owen Smithson, who was found dead in his apartment when they went to talk to him. While investigating both of those deaths, we found out that Nate had shown interest in building a casino. The fact that he was in Carson County made us want to revisit the players involved in the original casino deal. Dorchester and I found Mr. Robertson shot dead in his kitchen.”
“Fuck me,” McCarren said.
“We started reviewing documents and notes that Robertson had made after his meetings with all of you. That’s when we discovered that Spizer was the attorney for both McCarren Consortium and Nate Turner.”
“I don’t believe that Rick could be involved in something like this, Detectives. He was a good man,” Thompson stated emphatically.
Larkin let out a soft sigh and said, “The only thing I can tell you is that I did send the letter to Mr. Robertson because he didn’t have a phone. He was kind of a paranoid guy who believed the government was listening to every call he made. Rick asked me about the letter a few weeks, maybe a month, after I sent it and I told him that I’d had no reply from Robertson and I was going to let it drop. Perhaps Turner picked up where I left off. Maybe he decided to drive out to see Robertson in person.”
What Larkin said had merit, except the time of Nate’s death. When Nate was killed, we had first assumed he was seeking me out for help. Once we connected him to the casino deal, we realized that probably wasn’t true. It wasn’t likely that Nate was meeting with Robertson in the middle of the night, which gave credence to there being someone else involved. Was that person in the conference room with me?
“I knew nothing about any of this,” Thompson said. “Larkin didn’t mention any of this to me.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Larkin said. “Besides Rick, I told no one about my idea to establish talks with Robertson again.”
That meant that it wasn’t likely that a rival casino consortium was behind the killing. Spizer wanting these men dead made zero sense to me and was the main reason I didn’t want to close the case.
“I’m sorry that we’re not able to assist you further, Detectives,” McCarren said. I was sorry too because I had hoped to learn something definitive that would help us close the case. I wanted everything tied up with a pretty bow.
