Chapter 18

It was a Monday evening in late August. Cliff was trying to watch a preseason Monday Night Football game while Sandy was trying to distract him. They were both having fun when Sandy's phone rang. It was Sam Johnson calling from his car out front. There was trouble at the plant, and he wanted them to return there with him at once. He offered to take them in his car. Sandy put her clothes back on with some reluctance, and Cliff rearranged his.

As they drove towards the plant Sam explained what had happened. One of his rooftop teams had seen two men cutting through the wire in the rear of the plant. They were allowed to come through the fence and move well away from the wire before the floodlights were turned on. The men were told to stand still while guards were called. Instead, they drew guns and started shooting.

Sam said, "It wasn't their brightest idea. The guys I have on the roof are all veteran snipers from Vietnam days. As one of them told me one time, he's heard enough incoming rounds to last him. Anyway, my men smoked them. I think one is dead and the other was hit pretty hard. We'll see."

When they reached the plant, there seemed to be dozens of police cars with their emergency lights casting blue and red beams of light all around. As they reached the location where police cars were concentrated, they found the patrol sergeant calling for the bomb squad. The lawmen knew each other. The sergeant greeted Sam and introduced himself to Cliff and Sandy.

Smiling at Sandy he said, "You look even better in person than you do on TV. I saw you interviewed about that stock corner thing. I'm very pleased to meet you. The guys who are down apparently have enough explosives with them to level this place. Miss Donnell, someone doesn't like you very much."

Meanwhile, Sam checked his men. They were all in position and very alert. Sam looked on while his men gave their statements to the police. When they finished up, Sam took one more look around and then drove them back to the apartment. Sandy asked him if he could join them for a beer. He grinned and accepted.

They entered the apartment and saw the football game was still on. Sandy said, "I know when I'm not wanted!" She brought out beer and pretzels, and went back for cheese and crackers.

Green Bay was playing the Jets in a preseason game at the Meadowlands and the Packers were actually winning. In spite of what she said, Sandy was an avid football fan. All three were watching the game closely right to the end which came about eleven. The Packers had hung on to win.

Sandy produced more beers and the three relaxed. Cliff was the first to speak. "Sam, it never occurred to me to ask: Were those guys you picked up tonight identified?"

"I didn't make them," Sam replied. "And that reminds me: As far as I know, there's no make on that killer from last month, either. This whole deal bothers me. For that matter, I haven't heard of an identification of that substance he had. Last I heard, it was being sent to the FBI crime lab. One thing is for damn sure: somebody doesn't like you a whole lot!

"But there's something in our favor: There have been two attempts in thirty days. Both attempts left bodies on the ground. It sounds weird, I know, but it makes it a hell of a lot easier to keep my men on their toes. There's nothing quite like shots being fired to maintain a guy's concentration."

He got out of his chair. "I had better get back to the car. Thanks very much for the beer, Sandy. I enjoyed it. Good night, folks."

On Saturday morning, Sandy had an early appointment at the beauty parlor. She was going to sneak out but decided it would get the detectives on duty in trouble. She had learned that Sam was an ex-major in the Marine Corps. She decided he could strip flesh from bones with his voice, and she didn't want to be the cause of it so she called the number she had been given.

The voice at the other end said very pleasantly, "Please wait, Miss Donnell." A moment later, the voice came back and said, "You will be taking your car from the garage, ma'am?" Sandy said she would be, and the voice said it was clear to proceed.

Sandy thought it was a lot of cloak-and-dagger nonsense, but she played the game. Her beauty parlor was located in a shopping mall. After parking in the large parking area she walked towards the entrance.

Suddenly, an arm grabbed her around the neck from behind, and she felt something sharp at her back. Then she heard the word she had been told to expect: "Drop!"

She did exactly what she had been told. Letting her body go limp she dropped straight to the ground while ignoring the sharp object. Instantly, shots rang out and a heavy body fell on top of her. Even covered as she was by the body on top, she could still hear more shots fired, then the squeal of tires followed by the sound of a car crash. Seconds later, the body lying on top of her was pulled off.

Again it was Sam Johnson. Although she was starting to shake, she managed a grin. "For Heaven's sake, Johnson, don't you ever go home? And what did I do this time?"

He looked her over and whistled softly. "Sandy, I'm afraid you're going to need a new blouse. And maybe we better get you to a hospital. I think he nicked your back with his blade."

Sandy glanced at the body lying on the ground and quickly turned her head away. Magnum bullets had torn the assailant to shreds. "Sam Johnson, we will do no such thing! I'm fine, and ... Holy cow! I'm late for my appointment. They'll cancel me."

Sandy sprinted off. Sam waved and two Pinkertons, one of them a woman, ran after her. Sam was both concerned and amused. Sandy had done it perfectly even though he had been unable to get her to rehearse. He smiled as he thought about the police reaction. He could hear sirens already racing to the scene.

The man who had grabbed Sandy was dead. Three Pinkertons had been shooting, including himself. Sam knew he and at least one of the others used .357 Magnums so the assailant was in pieces. My God! he thought, She didn't even blink. This is a girl worth guarding!

When the police arrived, they took the two men in the getaway car into custody while the morgue wagon was on its way to retrieve the assailant. On this investigation, the patrol sergeant quickly gave way to a lieutenant of homicide, Lemuel Collins. Clearly, the Milwaukee Police Department was getting tired of the attacks involving Murphy Manufacturing.

Sam explained what had happened. He said he was in charge of a bodyguard detail covering Miss Donnell and told how she had been grabbed from behind. "Lieutenant, it looked like a kidnaping. It's the only reason I can think of for two guys in the getaway car. We yelled at Sandy to drop, and she did. I think her back was cut by his knife on the way down. As soon as she was out of our firing line, three of us cut loose. I think we may have overdone it a bit. The guy is shot to rags. Anyway, we have the other two. Now I would love to know where they intended to take her."

"Where is Miss Donnell now? At the hospital?" Collins asked.

Johnson grinned and shook his head. "No, sir. At the beauty salon over there. That's why she's here. She ran in, afraid she would lose her appointment."

Collins looked at him strangely. Finally, he decided Johnson wasn't kidding. "Shall we have a talk with the intended victim?"

They walked over to the beauty parlor and waited while the operator finished with Sandy. Finally she emerged from the shop. As they walked over, the female Pinkerton was assuring her that Cliff would love her hair.

Sam introduced her to Lieutenant Collins who walked around her looking and then said, "Tell me I'm seeing things. Miss Donnell, is your blouse being held together with Scotch tape?"

Sandy smiled at him, "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but it's the best we could do. Does it really look that bad? It's not bleeding through the fabric, is it?"

Collins started to laugh. "Miss Donnell, you absolutely take the cake! You're the victim of an attempted kidnap. The assailant is shot to pieces right on top of you. And then you use Scotch tape ... and Band-Aids... ?" Sandy nodded as Collins continued, " ... to fix the damage."

Sandy looked at Sam. "Would it be an awful lot of trouble to swing by a hospital on the way back? I think Cliff would kill me if I didn't at least go through the motions of being checked."

Collins asked, "Miss Donnell, would you mind if I joined you? This whole thing is becoming a major-league embarrassment to our department, and we don't like being embarrassed."

Sandy agreed and a caravan, led by Lieutenant Collins with his flasher on, drove up to the emergency room of a nearby hospital. In addition to Collins there was a patrol car and two cars of Pinkertons. Collins escorted Sandy in, explained the situation and turned Sandy over to a nurse. The female Pinkerton, Sally Ellsworth, accompanied Sandy into the examining room. A doctor came into the room and told Sally that relatives had to wait out front.

Sally said, "I am not a relative. I'm police and I'm staying here!"

The doctor was startled, but acquiesced. Sandy carefully took off the remains of her blouse and then the doctor looked at the long scratch. "What did you scratch yourself on?" he asked.

Sally answered: "She didn't scratch herself. An assailant, now very dead, did it to her this morning. It was a knife or an ice pick. I didn't stick around to find out which."

The doctor visibly paled but regained his composure. He asked Sandy about tetanus shots and, when she couldn't recall when she last had one, gave her another. He put some antiseptic on the scratch and smiled. "Young lady, I gather you were very lucky. There shouldn't be any mark at all, and you probably won't even get a scab. The only possible risk is tetanus, and we've taken care of that."

Sandy put her bra back on and carefully put on her shredded blouse. She thanked the doctor, and she and Sally went back outside. When the whole crew went back to the apartment, Sandy asked if they would give her a few minutes alone with Cliff. She told Sam she would call him on his car phone.

When she let herself in, Cliff was still sleeping so she shook him awake. He peered up at her, bleary-eyed. Suddenly, the events of the morning hit her, and she started to cry.

Instantly Cliff was wide awake. "Honey, what happened? What's the trouble?" She went into his arms and continued to cry. As he held her, he felt the Scotch tape holding her blouse together.

Finally, she regained control and told him about the events of the morning. "Cliff, Sam and the police are outside waiting. Would you mind letting them in while I clean up a little?"

He got dressed quickly and let the others in while she went to the bathroom to clean up. Cliff called Sam, and a few minutes later he arrived and introduced Lem Collins. Cliff had made coffee for the group when Sandy joined them after washing her face and putting on a new blouse.

Collins started off: "Mr. Fitzpatrick, frankly, we're baffled. I have never seen a case with more people in custody and less knowledge on our part. We have the guy who killed the Pinkerton man and tried to sabotage your machine. We have the survivor of the two who tried to blow up your place. We have two guys from the getaway car today. In addition, we have two fresh bodies in the morgue. But we haven't identified anyone! They're all still carried as John Does.

"I have been on the force for over twenty years, and this has never happened before. More to the point, I can't find any indication of it ever happening anywhere before. Not even the FBI has been able to get a make on these clowns! Do you or Miss Donnell have any ideas? Any place to start?"

"We have a suspicion, that's all. We don't have a shred of evidence," Sandy said. "We suspect Ezra Stiles, the attorney who is trustee of my estate until the first of October. As I said, there is no evidence. However, Cliff and I and some of our friends came to the conclusion by working backward from a motive. He's the one we came to. He knows the company."

She explained the Board meeting on October first and the corner in Murphy stock. She finished by saying, "Lieutenant, let's be honest: Murphy Manufacturing is a small company. We've been listed on the exchange for a lot more years than I've been alive. Similarly, there have been one million shares outstanding since before I was born. Why the movement now? What's different? The only thing different is Cliff Fitzpatrick."

She then explained the loss of the Magna business, the Kaga contract, and Kelly's input. "So you see, a short sale was a pretty good move ... if you didn't know about the Kaga contract, our export developments, and the Stores Southern Division. Finally, we have reason to believe Stiles was blinded when we fired the treasurer, Purcell, and then the personnel director, Budd. Worst of all, from his position, the loss of his eyes couldn't have come at a worse time. He had knowledge of the losses, but he didn't know about the offsetting gains." She looked at the two detectives and asked, "Does that make any sense to you?"

"Miss Donnell, it's scary. Have you mentioned your suspicions to anyone else?" Collins asked.

"Yes, Lieutenant. To Sam Johnson. Sam, have your people found anything yet?"

"Sandy, I'm embarrassed. My people keep running into blind alleys. I agree with the Lieutenant: We've never encountered anything like this before. And we're not alone. Lieutenant, you might as well know that the FBI is on the case, too. The SEC brought them in because of possible Federal securities law violations. The last I heard, there is still no word on who is caught in the corner on Murphy stock.

"I understand they tracked a huge chunk of the short sales to a bank in the Cayman Islands. All anyone could get is it is acting as the agent for a Cayman Islands Trust and cannot reveal the names of the principals because of the country's banking secrecy laws. In some cases they're tougher than the Swiss, and this is apparently one of those cases. The Swiss will give the government a hard time on tax cases, but they are murderous on securities fraud. In fact the Swiss are a hell of a lot tougher than we are. Over there, you go to jail and they throw away the key.

"Lem," Sam said, "what about the guys you've got in custody? It's utterly inconceivable there are no records — not even a traffic ticket, for chrissakes. Those guys aren't amateurs, I guarantee it. Why, in hell, can't we get a make?"

The phone rang and Sandy answered it. "Lieutenant, it's for you." She gave him the phone and he identified himself. Then he listened and a smile started to appear for the first time. He thanked the caller and hung up.