Steele Investigations Pt. 02

Chapter Two - First Case

Over the next two weeks, their "office" began to take shape. Bobby brought a couple of basic computers in. They set up shop in the den. One computer was programmed for accounting and general business information. The second was the voice activated computer. All casework would go on this computer.

Blake wanted the company to be called Steele and Watson Investigations. Sam objected. "It will be soon enough just Steele and Steele. So, "Steele Investigations" it is."

Blake could tell he wasn't going to win many of these arguments. He didn't really mind. She had a very practical mind and could handle the day-to-day details. She had a friend that was an accountant, and soon he was there to set up their books. They ventured out to the bank to set up a new account. They were in business.

It was just in time, too. Frank showed up the next day. He had news.

"The chief has approved the idea of you looking into some difficult cases. However, it will not be under the auspices of NYPD. You are on your own. We can give you the reports, and you can talk to the officers involved. That is as far as he will go."

Sam spoke up. "Works for us. Do you have any at the moment, or is this just theoretical?"

Blake sat quietly in his favorite chair. They were already developing their pattern. He would listen carefully while Sam did the talking. If needed, he would interject a question now and then. Otherwise, he would let her lead the conversation. This is what she did for years with the NYPD. He wasn't about to get in her way.

Frank looked at Blake, then went back to Sam.

"I have a case Bill is working on. I am going to have him come by with his files and discuss it with you. He will be here tonight."

He stood up as Sam said, "We will be expecting him tonight." Frank left.

Blake smiled. "You handled that perfectly. I think we can do this. Are you comfortable with most of the talking?"

Sam laughed. "There are so many quips I could throw out now, but I will just say, sure."

Bill arrived around eight. They had dinner over and were listening to music when he arrived.

"Thanks for seeing me. I guess I am the trial balloon for this thing." Bill took a small file out of an envelope and handed it to Sam.

Sam took the contents out and looked over them. She then began reviewing them for Blake's benefit. "The police report concerns the death of Willam Randolph Adams. He was a 90-year-old man living in a veteran's home in the city. The cause of death was originally listed as heart failure. Because he had a weak heart for years, nothing was suspected at first. The only reason an autopsy was done at all was because one of his grandchildren was a doctor who specialized in geriatric medicine. His granddaughter, Dr. Susan Mason, was researching heart disease in elderly patients. Her grandfather was in her research, and she conducted an autopsy to see the state of his heart after death. Her family and Adams had consented for their granddaughter and daughter's research. She was very surprised to find a very high level of digitalis in his blood. He had not been treated for his heart condition with digitalis and there was no reason for him to have any digitalis in his system. The cause of death was changed to Digitalis Toxicity." Sam stopped to look up at Blake. He was sitting perfectly still, listening intently. She continued.

"Bill, would you like to tell of the investigation to date?"

"Certainly. The military doctors at the VA didn't seem too concerned by the news. They appeared to be too busy to worry about one old man with a bad heart. I conducted interviews with all the staff in that wing of the home. You have copies of their statements in the file. I spoke to the rest of his family. No-one has any idea who could have done this. He was very popular in the home and had no trouble with the staff. He was old and frail, but his regular doctor said he could have lived for several more years without the poisoning."

Blake suddenly spoke up. "Bill, did he have any money to speak of? Did he have a will?"

"He had a will, but nothing of consequence to leave anyone. His son is the executor. They had liquidated his property several years before when he moved into the home. It was this money what was paying for whatever he needed beyond the board provided by the military."

Sam picked it up. "Bill, can I scan everything you have into my computer? I will need to describe everything for Blake."

"Of course, Sam, go ahead." For the next hour, Sam scanned everything Bill had into their computer. Blake sat quietly the entire time. When she was finished, Bill took his files and his leave.

After Bill was gone, Blake asked Sam to catalogue every piece of paper she had downloaded.

Sam began a detailed list.

"1. One police file, most of which you have heard.

2. One photo of Adams.

3. A list of the people at the home that were interviewed.

4. A list of Adam's family members.

5. Dr. Mason's autopsy report.

6.The "official" response from the VA as to the cause of death.

"That is all there is. It's not much for ninety years." Sam waited for Blake.

Blake finally spoke.

1. "I will need a copy of his military record, including the members of his unit and where he served.
2. "We will need to go and speak to the head doctor of the home where Adams lived."
3. "I would like to speak to Dr. Mason."
4. "We must speak to the son that is handling the estate."
5. "I would like to speak to Adam's attorney, if he had one."
6. "I would like you to read to me each person in the home's deposition, even though I am sure none of them were involved."

Sam agreed and they decided to retire for the evening.

The next morning, after they had eaten breakfast, they settled down in the den to go over the depositions.

Sam called everything up on the computer and began reading.

"The first deposition is from Dr. Benjamin Harris. He is the doctor that is responsible for the patients, and he works for the VA.

"I was called to the home at 6:30 on the morning of March 6^th. I found the staff with Mr. Adams. I pronounced him dead upon my arrival at 6:40 A.M. He had a few heart "incidents" in the past six months, and I found nothing that would indicate anything but heart failure."

Next is Walter Bibby, the head of the home.

"I was notified at 6:45 A.M. at my residence of Mr. Adam's passing. When I arrived at work, I notified Mr. Adam's family of his passing. Later that morning, his son came into my office to tell me they would make the proper arrangements and let us know who would be coming for his body."

Then came Mary Ann Zimmerman, the head nurse at the home.

"I was notified by the night nurse upon arrival at work that Mr. Adams had passed. We were not surprised, due to his weak heart. His family arrived around 8 A.M. and I took them in to be with him for a while. The son then went in to see Mr. Bibby."

Last is the night nurse, Shantel Morris.

"It had been a quiet night. Everyone in the home seemed to have a good night. There weren't any disturbances, as there sometimes were with some of the patients. I checked on Mr. Adams at 6 A.M. on my morning rounds and called everyone immediately."

Sam sat back. "That is everything they have from the staff."

Blake sat thinking for a few minutes. "We will need to speak with Miss Morris as soon as possible. Otherwise, I don't see anything else there."

Sam called Dr. Mason and explained they had been recruited to investigate this death. When Sam asked to see her, she was very happy to tell them she would see them as soon as they could get there. There was the Michael L. Freedman Research Center on Aging, Technology, and Cognitive Health. This was one of the premier research facilities for the aged.

When they arrived, they were escorted to Dr. Mason's office.

"Dr. Mason, this is Blake Steele, and I am Samantha Watson. We are consultants for the NYPD and have been asked to assist with the investigation of your grandfather, William Adams' death. Thank you for seeing us."

"I must say, I am surprised. After talking to the detective and the doctors at the VA, I had given up hope that anyone would take this seriously. After all, he was just another old man in a nursing home."

Blake spoke up. "Dr. Mason, I can understand your frustrations. There is no logical reason your grandfather should be dead, other than murder. At the present time, we see no apparent motive for murder, but there always is one. We are endeavoring to find out why and who. Whatever help you may give us, we will greatly appreciate."

Sam spoke up. "Dr. Mason, we are sorry for your family's loss. Anything you can give that might help would be appreciated."

Mason nodded and went for her files. She returned with a thicker file that she handed Sam. "This is my entire investigation into my grandfather's death. I believe you already have the autopsy, but here are my notes of what I found. I made these copies when you called. You may have them. Good luck, and thanks for whatever you can do."

They returned home and Sam scanned Mason's report into their computer. She then read Mason's report to Blake.

Mason's report said that she could not determine how the digitalis had been administered, but based on the amount still left in the body when she finally received it from the funeral home, she estimated that it was probably administered sometime the afternoon before he died. Probably later in the afternoon or early at night.

Blake thanked Sam and sat back to think.

Sam put a call in to Bill and asked him to get the records from the military that Blake wanted.

"What the hell does he want that for?" Bill didn't sound very happy.

"You know him, Bill. He doesn't explain, he just asks. I need the names of his squadron, where he served in Vietnam, and anything else the military is willing to give us. Thanks for your help. Remember, if we solve this, it will go on your sheet." Bill hung up mumbling something about wild goose chases.

Sam next put a call in to W.R. Adams, Jr. She explained what they were doing, and asked if they could speak with him. He surprised her by suggesting he might come by their place that evening. She gave him the address and hung up.

Lastly, Sam called the office of Dr. Benjamin Harris requesting an appointment. When the switchboard understood who they were and what they were asking for, she put them on hold. After ten minutes, or so, a professional, but decidedly cold voice came on the phone.

"Why is it you need to see Dr. Harris?"

"I work for Blake Steele. He is a consultant for the NYPD, and we have been hired to look into William Adams' death. We just have a few general background questions for the doctor."

"If you give me your number, I will give it to the doctor."

Sam thanked her, gave her the number, and hung up. She had no confidence that they would ever hear from him.

At lunch, Blake asked Sam to find out as much as she could from the internet about William Adams' time in Vietnam. She spent the afternoon hunting through the computer while Blake listened to a little jazz. That was his favorite form of music, and Sam figured it relaxed him and helped him think.

The doorbell rang around 8 P.M. Sam welcomed William Randolph Adams, Jr. into their home. "Mr. Adams, we can't thank you enough for taking the time to come to see us. May I introduce you to Blake Steele."

The two men shook hands and sat down. Sam continued. "We have been asked unofficially to look into the death of your father. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

"I am happy to help. I didn't think anything would be done about this. Susan is my daughter. I am so proud of her for sounding the alarm. What can I do?"

Blake spoke up for the first time. "Mr. Adams, I have a few questions about your father's life.

1. May we see his will?
2. Did he have any assets that have not been converted yet?
3. May we speak to his attorney?
4. Do you have any information about the men he served with so long ago?
5. Did anyone at all dislike or have a reason to hate your father?

Adams smiled at Sam. "These questions are easy to answer. My father had a will. There were no assets left. We had converted everything between myself and my sister two years ago. I have run the family business for the last fifteen years. The ownership was transferred to myself and my sister five years ago. My father had literally nothing left in his name except his pension. His attorney's name is Hampton Lesson. I will give you his number and text him with the approval for you to talk to him. As far as his old buddies in the service, almost all of them have been dead for years. In fact, I know of only one still communicating with him recently. I have several of Dad's letters from him. I would be happy to let you look through them, as long as I get them back."

Blake spoke up again. "Thank you, Mr. Adams, we appreciate it. You did not mention anyone with problems."

"I didn't because I know of no-one who did not think the world of my dad. His army buddy was the only friend I think he ever talked to that was not in the home."

Blake nodded to Sam. She spoke up. "Would you mind if I come by the office tomorrow to get the letters, a copy of anything else you think might help, and the phone number of his attorney?"

"Of course. My company is Aerial Aeronautics. We make airplane parts for the airline industry. Here is my card." He stood up and said as he prepared to leave, "Again, thank you for believing my daughter."

After he had departed, Sam waited until Blake spoke.

"Describe him, please."

"He is a man of mid-sixties, greying, a little overweight with slumped shoulders. He seems to have the weight of the world on his shoulders."

Blake nodded. "I sensed despair in his voice. He has not told us everything. We will have to dig it out for ourselves.

The next morning, Sam called the lawyer and he had been given the clearance to speak with them. Sam got his address and they set off for a day of discovery.

Aerial Aeronautics was a decent-sized building that looked like a parts warehouse. When they entered the front door, Sam noticed the security cameras that were everywhere. For a parts warehouse, they had first-class security. She would tell Blake about it later.

The receptionist smiled as they entered. "Good morning, may I help you?"

"Yes, we are here to see Mr. Adams. I believe he is expecting us." Sam smiled back. She made a call, and we were escorted back at once.

The décor was not lavish, but comfortable. We were met by his secretary who led us into his office. This was more richly upholstered.

"You came quick. I have everything you asked for here."

He handed Sam a large manilla envelope. "Thank you, Mr. Adams. We will let you know when we find anything out."

They got up and left, Blake on the arm of Sam, as always. Once in the car, Sam told Blake about the security in the building.

"That fits with the picture I am forming in my mind. When we get back, try to find the incorporation papers for this version of the company. Are the any minority partners, etc. You know the drill."

Next came senior's lawyer. Hampton Lesson had a respectable office in a respectable neighborhood in Queens. He had a receptionist/assistant in the front office. When she called in, he came to meet them. "Junior called and cleared me talking to you. I take it you believe something untoward happened to the old man. I can't understand why. He was been a sickly, old man waiting to die for ten years. I have a copy of his will for you. It has been probated."

He handed Sam the file. Blake spoke, "Is there anything out of the ordinary about this old man? Did he have anything original in his papers, or anyone contacting you about him?"

Sam could see the look on Lesson's face. It was surprise, bordering on shock. "What would make you say such a thing?'

Blake didn't flinch. "Because I figured someone would have been asking questions."

Lesson looked at Sam for a couple of minutes before speaking to Blake's statement. "A man called the day after Mr. Adam's died. He wanted to know when the will would be probated, and how long that would take, and if there would be a reading. He hung up without giving his name."

Blake continued. "Of course he did. How did you answer his questions?"

"I told him the will would take a month to probate, and there would be no reading. There is one other thing. There was an old letter from a law firm with the will. I gave it unopened to his son."

Blake stood up, "Thank you Mr. Lesson, you have been most helpful. I will have Junior relay to you our findings. Good day."

Sam had to get Blake out of there so she could find out how in the hell he had guessed that. Once in the car, she made him explain.

Blake smiled and began. "We all agree that Adams had no enemies in the home or from his family. He had no other contacts in life. We now know it was a man that killed him. For some reason, the killer could not wait for the old man to die, naturally. He had to risk this plan to speed up the process. My guess is it has something to do with the letter from the old attorney's office. We will have to make Junior show it to us. The fact that he was withholding it tells us why he is worried. It is reasonable to assume the killer would want to know the timeline for his death to be certified. Hence, the call to the lawyer."

Sam laughed. "Sure, clear as day. Wonder why I didn't think of that."

They went home to go through their trove of information gathered.

Blake asked Sam to start with Adam's will. She agreed, not expecting much. She read the entire will to Blake. It was a standard will, except for one thing. He willed a letter from the law firm of Thompson and Thompson to his old friend, James Scott Davis. This is the same friend that he had been corresponding with right before he died. It was time to read James Scott Davis's letters.

Sam opened the envelope she had gotten from Junior. In it were two letters from Davis. The first was dated a month ago. Sam opened it and read it to Blake.

"Bumpy,

It has been a long time since we have spoken. I had my attorneys locate you. I believe you are still alive. If you are, I think you and I are the last two of our squad alive. Now I find out that the grim reaper is calling for me. I am holding him off, but it is a losing battle. It looks like you will win the prize. Good luck. It seemed silly fifty years ago, and it seems even stupider now, but whatever.

We sent that letter to Bobby's father for his attorney. He was the only one who knew an attorney, and we wanted to make it official. Funny, none of us thought we would get out of Vietnam alive, and we all did.

So now, it comes full circle. But we did have some good times, didn't we? Remember, don't let the bastard win."

JD

Sam opened the second letter. It was dated a week before Adams died.

"Bumpy,

I didn't get my first letter back, so I am assuming you received it. My doctors have told me I have improved a little. I have asked my son to try and get the two of us together before we go, just one last time. Hope to see you one more time.

JD

Blake furrowed his brow and went deep into thought. Sam had seen that look before, so she began loading the paperwork into their computer. It took her over an hour to finish. During that time, Blake did not move. Once she was finished, she went to get a beer. When she got back, he hadn't moved, so she put some jazz on and settled in to outwait him.

Blake finally looked up. He asked Sam for a whiskey. When she brought it to him, he smiled and sipped on his drink.

"Sam, my love, I think this is almost done. I need the names of Davis's family and where they live. We will need the name of Davis's attorneys."