Phantom Purloiners, page 14
“You’re that out-of-town cop looking into the Nimerigar, aren’t you?”
The move took Noonan by surprise. “Not exactly. I’m here . . ”
“Oh, we all know that,” she cut in. “That strange murder over in Washakie. But it’s mixed up with the Nimerigar.”
“Really? How do you know that?”
“The players are all the same! There’s the Three Tree family, Sandra Trucco, and Darby O’Reilly. They’re all doing something strange, and then this dead body pops up. Or this dead body doesn’t pop up. A lot of blood but no body.”
“That all true,” said Noonan cautiously, “but how are they all connected?”
“A casino! I thought you knew that. The Nimerigar have cut a deal with a casino in Las Vegas.”
“How do you know that?”
“Everybody knows it. Sandra and Three Trees make trips there ever two or three weeks. They don’t have the money to gamble, so it’s got to be something else. Sandra’s got roots in Las Vegas. Knows the right people. Or, rather, the wrong people. She knows the wrong kind of people to make a casino happen.”
Noonan thought for a moment. “But you can’t have a casino unless you’ve got water and power and access to the interstate. I was told none of that was going to happen.”
The woman did a ppppffffftttt with her lips. “There’s too much money to let it lie fallow. Darby O’Reilly could make it happen.”
“How’s that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He’s a land man, and he could jiggle land records.”
“Wouldn’t that be hard to do? Those land records have paper trails back to territoryhood.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. This is Wyoming, and a lot of strange things happen by the light of day as well as the full light of the moon.”
Noonan was intrigued. “You think this Sandra has the connections to get a casino to come to Washakie?”
“Don’t get me wrong. She’s basically a good woman. Works hard at the hospital. Been here three or four years, tops. Came from Las Vegas. Then she got boyfriend, Darby O’Reilly, j-u-s-t about the time the whole deal started to come together.”
“A casino has agreed to come in?” This took Noonan by surprise.
“Word is papers have been signed. By some lawyer out of Philadelphia. A Vietnam buddy of Old Man Three Trees.”
“You ever see this lawyer?”
“Nope. Just know he’s out of Philadelphia.”
“How do you now that?”
“We’re small town.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
CHAPTER 41
Benjamin Franklin once noted that diligence was the mother of good luck. Noonan hoped this was true because there was not a single thing he expected to get out of the police in Colter. Of the three robberies, this one promised to be the least productive. It had occurred on the Fourth of July, and the town was packed with outsiders. There were going to be no roadblocks. There were no security tapes. There were only two witnesses.
But due diligence was required.
Colter had been named after legendary John Colter, widely considered to be America’s first mountain man. He had been on the Lewis and Clark Expedition and was the first white to see the Grand Tetons and what would become Yellowstone National Park. Historically, he is best known for a rather gruesome experience. In an “altercation” with the Blackfoot, Colter had been stripped naked and forced to run for his life. He did—with a pack of warriors behind him. After running for several miles, Colter turned on his pursuers and singled out the closest one. Colter disarmed the warrior, killed the brave with his own spear, and stole the man’s blanket. He then continued his run until he came to the Madison River. Jumping into the swirling waters, he swam until he came to beaver house where he secluded himself until the pursuing warriors left. Then he walked for eleven days to a trader’s fort on the Little Big Horn.
Naked.
Colter is also credited with the discovery of what was called “Colter’s Hell.” The year before his run to survive, he came to a remote fort with tales of geysers, mud pots, and a “stinking river.” He identified the region, which quickly became known as “Colter’s Hell,” today west of Cody. Though the geysers and mud pots are gone, the river is still known as the “Stinking Water” by the Natives—and the Shoshone River by the USGS.
While Bridger had been a community of beauty courtesy of Buckle Bunny Lake, Colter was a dirty but rich railroad town. Born because it was the confluence of three railroad track systems and two overland trails that became highways, it was a way station for anyone and everyone crossing the Badlands.
What Colter lacked in scenery—it was flat as a pancake with the Laramie Mountains nothing more than a slight visual blip on the horizon—it more than made up for with the money that could be made in town. A transportation, insurance, banking, and investment center for the wealthy in the surrounding three counties, Colter was where you made money, invested money, and watched money. But you did not live in Colter for the weather, view, or creature comforts.
“We are a split community,” Police Chief Virgil Fenster told Noonan. “By that I mean half of the community is well off and getting better. The other half is working class, cowboys, mechanics, service personnel, and the like. It’s our roots,” he said pronouncing the word roots as ruts. “In this town, on the other side of the tracks has a real Western meaning. The west end of town is a pill hill and banker’s row. The east end, on the other side of the tracks, is where the less well-heeled live. Race, religion, and education have nothing to do with it. We’ve got rich Indians, Jews, Muslims, and blacks living uptown and the same mix downtown.”
“I really didn’t need to know that,” Noonan started to say as he pulled his notebook form his battered briefcase.
“Not a problem,” Fenster said as he dug through the pile of paper on his desk. “I know why you’re here, so I’ve pulled together what I have. I also know you like to be called Heinz, Heinz, so here’s what I have.” He handed Noonan three sheets of paper.
“Not much for a robbery.”
“Not much to say. Slick job, well planned. Like corn through a goose. Hit the two shops on the Fourth of July. Best time for the good money. While we were investigating the coin store robbery, they were taking down the jewelry store. When we got to the jewelry store, they were gone, mixing with the crowd at the Fourth of July rodeo and fair we have every year. So we got nothing but a description and a list of stolen items.”
“No security cameras?”
“Nope. They had them, but they weren’t turned on. Bodacious people are cheap.”
This was a heart-stopper for Noonan, and his body language was a tell. “Bodacious . . .” Noonan tried to say calm. “Relatives of the Bodacious brothers in Washakie?”
“Cousins, in-laws, whatever. The Bodacious are a big family in these parts. Lots of loose pieces if you know what I mean. Great-granddad came in with the railroad in the 1870s. Got lots of land the old-fashioned way.”
“Killing Indians and taking their land?”
“Some of it. Bought other lots. Homesteaded. Crafty geezer. Did very well for himself. Outlived three wives and more than a few children. It’s a big family that spread out. Bridger, Colter, Washakie in this part of the Badlands. There are Bodacious families in Cheyenne, Rawlins, Lusk, Cody, Casper, Buffalo. Big family, really spread out. Got a lot of founding families that way.”
“But the Bodacious brothers in Washakie were in the coin and jewelry business. The same here. A coincidence?”
“We thought so and did some digging. Yes, they are related—cousins. But the coincidence ended there. The coin and jewelry stores in Bridger are owned by two different families, neither of them related to the Bodacious in any way. Just small businesses. The take in Washakie and Bridger was small. Here it was sizeable.”
“How sizeable?”
“Sixty thousand dollars wholesale. All of it insured and none of it on consignment.”
“From both coin and jewelry store?”
“Yup. Both stores. The coin store was peanuts, about five thousand dollars. The big money was in the jewelry. The good news, though, the stones stolen were all Gemprint, so we might be able to get the perps at the back end.”
“If you ever get the gems back.”
“True. But that’s neither here nor there when it comes to the robbery.” Fenster pointed to the report in Noonan’s hand. “As far as the robbery is concerned, you know the story. Tall man, short woman with masks robbed both stores. MO matches. Gloves, so no fingerprints. We checked trash cans between the jewelry store and the rodeo grounds . . .”
“How far was that?”
“Six, eight blocks. We found nothing. We did some searches of people coming out of the fairgrounds but got nothing. No one was happy about being searched, but we got nothing.”
“I’m guessing you had so many out-of-towners that a search of the hotels and motels did no good.”
“We’re one step ahead of you. Yes, we were loaded with out-of-towners, but we did check all the guests from the hotels and motels, all six of them. There are ten B&Bs, and we got the names of all tall men and short women. We compared the list with Bridger because it had the robbery six weeks earlier. Then we compared the list with Washakie PD after their robbery.”
“Any names cross-check?”
“About a dozen but they were bureaucrats, people who move around a lot.”
“How about Darby O’Reilly?”
“Everyone’s interested in O’Reilly these days. Yes, he was here. Doing the computerization stuff. He was working at the county courthouse when the robberies occurred. I double-checked because you had asked about him in Bridger.”
“How far is the county courthouse from the coin and jewelry stores?”
“Mile or so. I doubt he had anything to do with the robberies. He was locked in the county courthouse.”
“Why locked in?”
“Fourth of July is a holiday. Federal, state, and local. But the computerization project had a federal-funding deadline, so he had to be working on the fourth.”
“Was he alone in the courthouse?”
“Yup. Just for you, we checked. Wyoming is a small . . .”
“State. Yes, I keep hearing that,” Noonan said with a smile. “So you double-checked your evidence.”
“Absolutely.” Fenster smiled like the Cheshire cat as he paused. “Security cameras were double-checked when we knew you were going to ask about him. He went in alone, came out alone.”
“Are the O’Reillys a big family hereabouts?”
“Old, yes. Large, no. Darby’s grandfather came in with the state. Worked as a bureaucrat, and his son took the same job. Then Darby took the same job. One son per family. Darby’s single but has a new girlfriend in Bridger. That’s why he spends so much time there.”
“Speaking of families, how about the Harrisons?”
“All Harrisons we know are above snakes. We checked them out right after the Washakie murder.”
“Darby O’Reilly have any business dealing with the Bodacious family?”
“Darby?” Fenster laughed. “The Bodacious family everywhere is into everything that has a dime: banking, insurance, grocery stores, land speculation. They’re even getting involved with the photovoltaic people over in Washakie. Darby? He’s living in the same house his grandfather paid off. He’s probably got a retirement with the State of Wyoming and savings. No, he’s small potatoes. Bodacious are big time. No link I’ve heard of.”
“Are the Bodacious part of the Nimerigar operation? I hear there’s a casino being planned.”
“A lot of people in Washakie have been smoking locoweed. The Nimerigar got fifty thousand acres of nothing. No access to the interstate. No water on the land. No access to any of the power lines. No money to advertise. Sure, I hear they’ve been talking to casinos, and I also hear one casino tossed some seed money. Just in case, you know. But, seriously, to make a casino profitable, it has to be big and bright and accessible to lots and lots of people. That does not fit the Nimerigar land.”
“Suppose the Nimerigar could get the water and power, would a casino be reasonable?”
“Anything’s possible. With water and power and land, they would have a chance to get a casino to cash in big time. But there’s still the problem of access. To get to the casino the gamblers would have to drive around Robin Hood’s barn. That means getting off the interstate and driving through Colter or Bridger, depending on which way they are coming, then the two hours to Washakie, and then down a fifteen-mile dirt road.”
“So, the Bodacious do not have any part in the Nimerigar plans with the casino?”
“If they do, I don’t know about it. But if there’s a dime in it, they do. Or will. The Bodacious family, the rich ones anyway, think long term. So, yeah, I’d say they had a toe in the water. But only a toe. They’re no one’s fools. At least not the Bodacious family here in Colter. In Washakie, the family is strictly nickel-and-dime.” The Police Chief paused. “If you really want to know about the Bodacious family, talk to Harold Bodacious. He’s a lawyer here in Colter and a slippery character you’ve never met. He’s also the lawyer for that Italian company that bought out Laramie Consolidate Syndicate.”
CHAPTER 42
It was big time for Wyoming. Big time in a small state simply meant the governor showed up. In a large state, this would have been big news in the local press, but in Wyoming, everyone knew the governor, so when she showed up, it was just another day when the governor showed up. She cut ribbons all the time and issued press releases honoring a boy scout, a first responder, a visiting athlete, or a turkey farmer. This was Wyoming, and not much was a big deal.
So the big time consisted of the governor showing up at the Wyoming Department of Lands and offering her congratulations on the completion of the computerization of the land records. This was a long time in coming, she noted, and Wyoming was just about the last state to bring its land records into the twenty-first century. She made a joke about the office doing a “land office business” to bring the records up to date and congratulated the office—with a staff of one, Darby O’Reilly—for his diligence in shepherding the project. O’Reilly received a handshake from the governor, a Wyoming certificate of merit, and a desk weight with his name beneath the Great Seal of the State of Wyoming.
Then the governor left.
So did O’Reilly.
Now that the computerization of land records was complete, he was going to take a well-deserved vacation, he told his coworkers in the DMV office. He was going on a Caribbean cruise. He’d be back in two weeks, and he left with a curious, unusual smile on his face.
CHAPTER 43
Harold Bodacious was as slippery a lawyer as Heinz Noonan, the “Bearded Holmes,” had ever met in his career. And Noonan had met many a slippery lawyer. The law office of Harold Bodacious was a coiffured attempt at passing him off as a good old country boy. His only receptionist was in her seventies, and his office assistant was a relative. Noonan knew that because of the nameplate on the man’s desk. The office was clean and well kept, had no dust, and had a threadbare carpet on the floor and four wooden chairs in front of Harold’s desk. The desk itself was of generic wood and had last been polished when Richard Nixon was president of the United States.
Harold Bodacious was pushing eighty, but he looked sixty. Fit and agile, he rose from behind the desk and shook Noonan’s hand when the detective offered it. Bodacious did not wear a tie or sport a bolo. He also had a harassed look, as if he had been working hard all day, which Noonan immediately recognized as show.
“I’m glad you could see me on such short notice.” Noonan said as he sat down.
“Not a problem,” Bodacious responded with a smile that was wolfish. “I always have time for law and order.”
“Coming right to the point because your time is valuable, I’d like to know if there is any link between the Stupinigi Corporation and the Nimerigar operation.”
“Ah, the Nimerigar. A restless organization. When one has a large nose, he believes everyone is talking about it. Just between the two of us,” Bodacious said and then indicated that Noonan should put his notebook away, “I’d be more than happy to oblige you. As long as you don’t write it down. Let’s just make this person-to-person.”
Noonan knew what “person-to-person” meant. It meant he was going to be told a lie.
But he put his notebook away anyway.
Bodacious leaned back in his wood chair—which creaked. Noonan knew an act when he saw it, and Bodacious was living up to his image as an amiable, old country lawyer.
Noonan was not fooled. This man was going to give him a line of buffalo manure.
“There are quite a few links between the Stupinigi corporation and the Nimerigar. But it’s important to keep in mind that the Stupinigi Corporation is a composite business force. In other words, if you go into their office you can see contracts, books, legal documents, annual reports. The Nimerigar are not a composite operation. Until they become a unified entity, there is no one who speaks for the entire association. What this means is what you hear in Washakie may not be what is being said in Colter or Bridger.”
“Further,” he continued, “the contact the Stupinigi Corporation has had with the Nimerigar is limited to people who say they are the Nimerigar. It has been very frustrating, from a legal point of view, because the Stupinigi Corporation has interests that coincide with Nimerigar interests.”
“Like?” Noonan pressed him.
Bodacious smiled like a fox in a hen house. “It is no secret that the Nimerigar are making contacts in Las Vegas. The Stupinigi Corporation has land adjacent to the Nimerigar property. If the casino goes in, the Stupinigi Corporation will be a neighbor and benefit. But it is not a one-way street. The Stupinigi Corporation can, shall we say, enhance the effect of the casino by participating as a partner in some of its enterprise.”
