Copp In Deep, A Joe Copp Thriller (Joe Copp Private Eye Series) (18 page)

But there had been a "falling out" recently.

Just two weeks before the tragedy, there had been a violent argument between the two men in Putnam's study, and Chase had been "thrown out."

And Putnam had commanded his wife: "Never let that man in this house again!"

The bubbles were beginning to burst, yes.

And the odor was awful.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I went out
to
PowerTron
and walked into the central security offices at a few minutes before five. There was a late Friday afternoon atmosphere in there, line of unoccupied desks, one woman working at a file cabinet and another tidying the counter area. The one at the counter flicked her eyes at the wall clock as she gave me about ten percent of her attention and went on with her tidying. I asked for Tom Chase and that got me maybe ninety percent.

"Mr. Chase was terminated on Wednesday," she informed me.

That came as no great shock. I was prepared for it, in fact, in one form or another. I flashed my ID and told the clerk, "I need to see his successor, then. Tell him it's an FBI matter."

Her eyes flicked to the clock again as though to confirm the number of minutes remaining before her week was ended. "Mr. Hightower is Acting Chief. Just a minute, I'll see . . ."

She retreated to a line of private offices at the rear, said something into an open doorway, and kept on going. The other woman followed quickly behind her and I saw neither of them again. A man came out of the office immediately and approached me with a set smile which rapidly evaporated as he drew closer.

This was the guy who two days earlier had led me to Altadena and the cold corpses of Morris Putnam and George
Delancey
. Several small circular
bandaids
on the forehead concealed the minor damage he had sustained in our first meeting.

I said, "We need to talk, Hightower."

Took him a couple of seconds to make up his mind on that issue. Then he said, "Come on back," and buzzed me through the security door.

We went into his private office, sat down, went right to work. "What do you want,
Copp
?"

"Were you Acting Chief the last time we met?"

"Yes."

"So all that razzmatazz about moonlighting—"

"Wasn't razzmatazz. I wasn't acting in an official capacity."

"Uh-huh. So who appointed you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You told me you were working directly for Putnam."

"That was a lie."

I said, "One of many, eh? So who was giving you orders?"

"That's none of your concern."

"The hell it isn't. You knew I would follow you from the restaurant, didn't you."

"Don't know what you mean."

"Sure you do. Someone wanted to place me at the murder scene. You led me up there. Tell me why."

"No, you have it wrong. Maybe you have an over- bloated sense of your own importance. Maybe you weren't the target."

"You think maybe you were?"

He nodded. "Seemed that way."

"That why you split without phoning it in?"

"Would you have phoned it in,
Copp
?"

I said, "Maybe not. Are you telling me that someone sent you up there?"

"Telling you nothing. Why'd you go back? That was dumb."

"I hadn't been there."

"Your gun had been there."

"Not attached to me. I think you know that. I think you iced those people, Hightower. Then you sucked me up there to take the fall."

He showed me a sober smile. "Why would I do that?"

"Why would someone make you Acting Chief?"

"The ex-Chief was behind bars. I was next in line. Simple as that."

"But you had all this moonlight work in the meantime, this special assignment. Who was punching your ticket for that, if not Putnam?"

"That isn't in your need to know."

"I'm putting it there."

"Go to hell, then. The interview is over." He picked up the telephone and dangled it casually by the left hand. "Start a ruckus in here,
Copp
, and I'll bury your ass in company cops. Aren't you out on bail?"

I placed a foot on the edge of his desk and straightened the leg. The heavy desk slid forward, jammed his swivel chair into the well and pinned him to the wall. I slapped the phone out of his hand and pulled the plug on it.

"Difference between you and me," I told him, "is that you're trying to succeed and I'm just trying to survive. Means nothing to threaten me with minor inconveniences when the hounds of hell are tearing at my flesh. The interview is over when I say it's over."

This man was not good at bearing pain.

He weakly gasped, "Let off. You're crushing me."

"So now you know how it feels," I said. "Someone is crushing me too. Who appointed you Acting Chief?"

"Putnam did, before he died."

"Before someone helped him die," I corrected him. "That happened early Wednesday. Chase was arrested late Tuesday. So when did you know about this wonderful change in your status?"

"Last weekend," Hightower groaned.

"So Tom knew even before Tuesday that he was out of a job."

"I don't know if he knew."

"He might have guessed?"

      
"Well I'm sure he knew that something was brewing"

"How would he know that?"

"Putnam was very unhappy with him."

"A personal matter, though, not job-related."

"Both, I think. Things had not been going well for Tom for some time."

      
"Were you friends with him?" "Not exactly."

      
"How would you rate his job performance?"
 
"Excellent."

"So why would he have a job-related problem?"

"If the CEO distrusts you, I'd say that's job- slated."

      
"Did Putnam tell you that he distrusted Tom?"

      
"Not in so many words, but . . ."

      
"He told you last weekend that he was firing him."

      
"Yeah."

      
"How did he put it to you?"

      
"Just told me to get ready to take over. Told me I shouldn't let Tom take any records out of the plant."

      
"He didn't tell you when you'd be taking over?"

      
"I just knew that it would be soon."

      
"What do you suppose he was waiting for?"

      
"He didn't say and I didn't ask."

      
 
"What kind of records?"

      
"What?"

      
"He said you should not let Tom take any records."
   
"I don't know what he meant by that."

"Guess."

"There were rumors of a GSA audit. I don't know.

"What would an audit like that entail?"

"Just, I guess, looking into the costs and the billing and all that."

"Tom wouldn't have access to those records, would

he?"

"The classified stuff, sure. That's a big part of our job here in security, running herd on classified documents."

"Come on, they don't classify the financial stuff.”

"Sometimes, yeah, we have to, when the costs are tied to research and development, secret specification and the like. 'Course the billings just recap all that b reference. But sometimes the detail stuff is classified.

I said, "Why would Tom want to take stuff like that out of the plant?"

"I don't know. You said guess. I was guessing."

"Tom knew he was about to be fired."

"Yes."

"Did he talk to you about it?"

"No."

"What about the sex parties?"

Hightower blinked and replied, "What about them?"

"Did you ever attend any?"

"No."

"You were never invited?"

"No."

I smiled. "Would you go?"

He smiled back, despite the pressure on his rib cage. "I might. Depends."

"Even if that is what got Tom in all the trouble?"

The smile faded. "I don't think that was it."

"Putnam is dead."

"Yes."

"
Delancey
is dead."

"Uh-huh."

"Now Chase is dead. Who's next?"

Hightower strained ineffectually against the desk as he replied, "Isn't that enough?"

"Depends on your point of view," I told him. "Looks to me like someone is trying to blot something out. Who would need to do that?"

"Beats me."

I kicked the desk a bit tighter and held it there. "Think hard."

The eyes were beginning to bulge. "I swear I don't know anything about it!"

So maybe he didn't.

I let the pressure off and told him, "I have it from an impeccable source that Morris Putnam was fired Wednesday morning before he died, that his office was locked and a seal put on his personal records. Did you know about that?"

"Yes, I knew about it. I handled the security angle."

"Oh whose orders?"

"I was called personally by General Maxwell himself. He's the Chairman and CEO back east."

"What'd he tell you?"

"He just said that Putnam should be barred from entering the premises."

"Didn't tell you why?"

"Just that Putnam was out and should be kept out."

"Why do you think he was fired?"

"I don't know."

"Was
Delancey
fired too?"

"Yes."

"And barred from the premises?"

"Yes."

"What do you think is happening with
PowerTron
?"

"God, I don't know," he replied.

I said, "If I were wearing your hat right now, pal, I think I'd be giving it some thought."

"I'll do that. Thanks."