The Prostitutes Ball

Chapter 44.

I followed him out of the dining room into the den, or maybe the Sheedys called it the great room. Either way, it was huge and overlooked a rectangular-shaped swimming pool.

The room was done in a macho hunter-killer theme. Elk and deer heads, nail-studded bar stools, brown leather furniture, forest green walls, and a Kilgary plaid area carpet. Old flintlock hunting rifles from the seventeen hundreds hung like crossed sabers over a magnificent walk-in fireplace.

"How dare you invade my house while I'm entertaining?" he began. "I've been told that case on Skyline Drive is over. They've caught the man. This is outlandish!"

"Mr. Sheedy, despite all that, I still have some questions."

"You obviously have no idea who you're dealing with."

"I know who you are. That doesn't get you out of this." Then I decided to just hit him with it hard. A blitz interview technique can often unnerve a stubborn witness and, in the ensuing confusion, cause them to make mistakes.

"Do you represent now, or have you ever represented, the Latimer Commodities Exchange?" I said without warning.

He just stood there; his jaw began clenching. He obviously wasn't going to answer.

"You might as well tell me and not make me go to a lot of trouble, because I will find out. It's going to be in somebody's records somewhere. Court or corporate documents."

An awkward moment followed while he silently ran through his options. Then he said, "I don't believe I have any obligation to reveal my business practices to you without first knowing the scope and context of the inquiry."

"Let's move on then. I'll get it myself. Do you handle any clients that trade in precious metals?"

"No."

"I'm curious as to when you started your business relationship with Thayer Dunbar."

"You are going to have to tell me, without prevarication, to what end or in what context this inquiry resonates."

Damn, he talked fancy.

"I'm trying to solve a murder case."

"It's solved."

"Not the one I'm working."

That stopped him. "And just which one is that?" he asked.

"Did you have any dealings with Thomas Vulcuna before his death in 1981, or with Eagle's Nest Productions before you acquired it through the Dorothy White Foundation?"

"You know, I've had just about all of this nonsense I care to deal with."

He turned to his desk and picked up his cell phone from its charging dock. Then he started scrolling through the call log until he found a number on speed dial. He hit the Send button and put the phone to his ear.

"You can't avoid answering my questions by calling someone for help," I said.

"Wanta bet?"

He turned slightly away from me and spoke into the phone. "Chase, its Stender."

Uh-oh, I thought.

"I have one of your police officers here. He rudely interrupted a private dinner party at my residence and is asking damn fool questions about God knows what. I do not appreciate this kind of harassment and if you and I are going to continue in our little quest, I demand that you muzzle this man and make sure he never be allowed to return to my home."

He listened and then said, "No, I don't know his name. A police person of some kind."

He turned and handed me the phone. "For you," he said coldly.

"Hello?"

"This is Chase Beal. Who am I speaking to?"

"Detective Scully, Homicide Special, sir."

"What are you doing bothering Mr. Sheedy, Detective?"

"I'm trying to deal with a case I'm working on, sir."

"It's over. Ms. Wilkes has thoroughly briefed me on the Sladky shooting. We won't be requiring any further assistance from you on that, so leave Mr. Sheedy's house immediately."

"It's not Sladky I'm working on."

"Not Sladky?"

"No. It's an old case that was just reopened."

"And what case is that?"

His voice was ice-cold. I wanted to keep our armored car heist a secret for a little longer, but I needed something to pop Sheedy open. I decided to give them half of it.

"The case is the Vulcuna family murder-suicide from 1981," I told him. "We had Thomas Vulcuna down as the murderer of his wife and daughter who then shot himself. It was closed in eighty-one. Now we think its a triple murder with the killer still at large."

As soon as I said this, Stender Sheedy abruptly straightened up. It was as if somebody had jerked him upright by an invisible cord attached to the top of his head.

"What is that case?" Beal asked. "I'm afraid I don't know it or what it could possibly have to do with the Sheedys."

"The Vulcunas owned the house on Skyline Drive that Brooks Dunbar now owns. The same address where Sladky committed the triple murder. Mr. Sheedy was the attorney who acquired that property for the Dunbars in 1982. That's why I'm over here."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Sheedy was now beginning to twitch as if he had suddenly developed a nervous disorder.

"You get your ass out of there right now," Chase Beal ordered. "Be in my office at eight A. M. on Monday morning prepared to defend this behavior. If I get another call from Stender about this, I'll fall on you like a mountain of shit."

"Yes, sir."

I handed the phone back to Sheedy. He listened for a moment, then whispered his thanks and disconnected. He was pale when I arrived but now he was bone white.

"What kind of quest are you on with Chase Beal?" I asked. "You helping him with his campaign for mayor?"

"You will leave my house immediately," he said.

I had accomplished what I came here to do, so I said something I've always wanted to say, but which is never said in real life, only in films.

"In that case I'll see myself out," I intoned elegantly, then spun on my heel and left.

It was a movie moment. I washed Hitch had been there to see it.