Santa Fe Dead

34

ON SUNDAY MORNING, Eagle called Joe Wilen’s new Santa Fe house and got his wife, Sandi, on the phone.

“Good morning, it’s Ed Eagle.”

“Good morning, Ed.”

“Is Joe awake yet? I thought I’d roust him out for some golf.”

“No, he went back to Palo Alto Friday night; he had a tournament to play there this weekend, and he starts his flight training tomorrow.”

“Well, he’ll be out of pocket for a couple of weeks, I guess. Tell him I’ll see him when I see him.”

“Okay, Ed. Tell Susannah I’ll call her for lunch.”

“Will do. Bye-bye.” Eagle hung up and went to make breakfast. Susannah was up and in the shower.

He was about to start scrambling eggs when the kitchen phone rang. “Hello?”

“Ed?” It was Sandi Wilen, and she sounded shaky.

“Hi, Sandi. Anything wrong?”

"I just got a call from the Palo Alto police. They told me Joe is dead.”

Eagle took a moment to digest this. “Are they sure it’s Joe?”

“Yes, he had ID on him. He was shot in his car, on the way to the golf course.”

“When did this happen?”

“Yesterday morning. They’ve been trying to reach me, but they didn’t know about the Santa Fe house. A neighbor finally told them to try me here.”

“Sandi, I’m so very sorry. I didn’t know Joe very well, yet, but I was looking forward to getting to know him and having him as a neighbor.”

“Thank you, Ed.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I have to go back to Palo Alto. It’s going to take me all day, what with the airline connections.”

“Sandi, I’ll be happy to fly you directly to Palo Alto. We can be there by lunchtime, and I’m sure you’re going to need some help dealing with this when we get there.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you to that trouble, Ed, but…”

“I’ll pick you up in forty-five minutes, okay?”

“Well, all right, Ed. I really appreciate this.”

“See you then.” Eagle hung up.

Susannah appeared in fresh jeans and a sweater, her hair wet. “I don’t like the look on your face,” she said. “What’s happened?”

“Joe Wilen is dead, shot.”

Susannah was shocked. “Is it Barbara, do you think?”

“Yes, I do think. I’m going to fly Sandi home and see if I can help there.”

“Can I come?”

“Sure, if you want to. I could use some help with Sandi, I’m sure.”

“I’ll pack for a couple of days,” she said, disappearing into the bedroom.

EAGLE LANDED AT San Jose and soon they were at Palo Alto police headquarters. A detective came down and met them, and introductions were made.

“I want to see my husband,” Sandi said.

“Of course, Mrs. Wilen,” the detective said. “We’ll need your identification of the body. I’ll get someone to take you over to the morgue.” He picked up the phone and made a call. A moment later another detective appeared and escorted her away, with Susannah in tow.

“May I speak with you, Detective?” Eagle asked.

“Sure, let’s use this room over here.” The detective led Eagle into an interrogation room and closed the door. The two men sat down.

“Please tell me how Joe Wilen died.”

“Your name again?”

“Ed Eagle. I’m an attorney, friend of the family. I may be able to help.”

“Mr. Wilen was scheduled to play in a golf tournament yesterday morning. He left his house and a few blocks away, he stopped at a traffic signal. We think another vehicle drove alongside his car and someone shot him once in the head. The weapon was a.380, the bullet a hollow-point. One was all it took. A jogger found the car a few yards away; it had come to rest against a tree at low speed, and the engine was still running. The jogger didn’t see another vehicle, but from the angle of the wound we think it was a taller vehicle, an SUV or a truck.”

“I think I may have a suspect for you.”

“Tell me who he is.”

“It’s a she, and she has more than one name: Barbara Eagle, sometimes; recently she was calling herself Eleanor Wright; and a couple of weeks ago, she married a Palo Alto man, Walter Keeler.”

“I know who Keeler is, sure,” the detective said. “He was killed last week in a car crash on the interstate.”

“That’s correct.”

“What would Mrs. Keeler’s motive be for killing her new husband?”

“I don’t think she did that, but I think she either killed Joe Wilen or hired someone to do it.”

“Okay, what was her motive for killing her husband’s lawyer?”

Eagle explained about the letter he had written, that Wilen had shown to Keeler, causing him to change his will. “If Wilen hadn’t shown him the letter, Mrs. Keeler would have inherited more than a billion dollars. After he read it, he cut her inheritance down to fifty thousand dollars a month for life and the use, but not the ownership, of their San Francisco apartment.”

“So she was angry with Wilen?”

“Oh, yes, and she told him so to his face. He told me, and I warned him to be careful.”

“Are you related to Mrs. Keeler?”

“She’s my ex-wife. She was recently tried for a double murder in L.A. and got off-this was only a few weeks ago.”

“And where can I find her now?”

“Maybe at her San Francisco home, but she could also be at the home of a friend called James Long, in Los Angeles.”

There was a knock on the door, and the detective got up and opened it.

An attractive woman in her thirties stood there. “Detective Hayman?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Lee Hight. I’m an associate of Joe Wilen-actually, his law partner.”

The detective offered her a chair and brought her up to date.

“I was at the meeting where Joe told Mrs. Keeler about her inheritance,” she said. “The woman looked as though she might kill him on the spot. It was scary.”

“So you concur that Mrs. Keeler should be our chief suspect?”

“Without any doubt.”

“Do you have the address of her San Francisco apartment?”

Hight gave it to him.

“Expect her to have a good alibi,” Eagle said, “but she’s responsible for Joe Wilen’s murder, I promise you.”