Match Play (27 page)

D
avid Steadman
pulls slowly away from Sycamore Road onto the main thoroughfare. He can see flashing lights approaching him. There is only light traffic so he merges and continues south toward the clubhouse lot where he left his car.

Moments later, three Parker Police cars are in his face, moving very fast past him. He pulls to the side of the street and pauses there to watch them in the rearview mirror. He feels the nagging premonition that’s been with him the last few days.

It seems too coincidental when the police appear to turn west on Sycamore Road. He slowly pulls away from the curb and back into the traffic heading south. Three blocks later he turns right and drives until he is again turning onto Sycamore Road. He starts up the street and is still quite a distance from 13538 but can see that the police have blocked off the street near Maggie Baker’s house.

He turns right to return to the main street. Stopping cautiously, he looks for more police flashers and back into traffic, he drives directly to his hotel. He parks the car on a dark street near the hotel, wipes down the interior, takes his jacket and briefcase, wipes down the exterior and enters the hotel from a side door using his key card.

Once in his room he paces, his anxiety level is at an all-time high. How do the police know? He retraces his steps. He only knows Maggie Baker from the golf course. He didn’t meet any of her friends except Agnes, so if the police connected Maggie to him, it had to have started with the golf course.

How could playing at that course have alerted anyone? Perhaps the couple they played with…had they recognized him from the flyer? He remembers seeing one in the clubhouse but didn’t pay attention to it. Did they have more information? He curses, wishing he had stopped to read it.

Why would the police go to Maggie Baker’s house unless they think she is in danger? It has to be the couple they played with; they are the only possible link, but how could they have called the police and why?

Then it hits him…someone discovered his vehicle, determined with whom he had played and somehow alerted the police.

The implications are profound. They will know his true identity. In fact, in a matter of hours, they will know everything about him. He has lost his best set of clubs, his vehicle and the rest of the materials in the Navigator.

At least he still has the briefcase and the trophies and thankfully he transferred his money from the wheel well to the safe in the room. But he’s lost his Glock.

Knowing there will be an APB on Maggie Baker’s car, he must get rid of it, then gather his belongings and get out of town. He puts on gloves, leaves the hotel and drives the car to another hotel two miles down the road. He parks it in a dark corner of the lot and then enters the hotel lobby. Using the house phone, he calls for a cab and is taken back to his hotel.



Joan Steadman walks out of her hotel in Denver and steps in a cab.

The cab driver drops her at a used car lot in north Denver. She is looking at a gray 2012 Ford Expedition and listening to the salesman who cornered her the minute she walked on the lot. All she is concerned with is low mileage and no body damage and that it has GPS. The salesman is getting a little too friendly and Joan is in no mood to waste time.

They agree on a cash price, Joan pays and waits for what seems an eternity for him to return with the temporary registration. She knows that each hour she delays puts her another minute closer to discovery and capture.

Twenty-five minutes later, she is driving her new car back to the hotel where she stayed last night. As soon as she enters the room, she turns on the TV, expecting at any moment to see David’s picture appear.

She wastes no time. She packs, leaves the room keys, loads the vehicle and begins her drive toward Chicago.

Nothing is the same as before, but they are still in control, and they are determined to finish the match and find the eleventh hole.

FBI Violent Crimes Unit

R
oger Payne
has set up the video monitor with the most recent murder. Since the temporary offices in Parker are so small there’s no room for his crime board, he’s loaded the information onto his computer and will display the pictures and evidence as needed. He takes his coffee and returns to the table where the others are waiting for Agent Schein to begin.

“We’ve had someone on stakeout at the vehicle since it was discovered Friday night, but somehow our killer was tipped off,” says Schein. “He never came back. We had the Navigator towed this morning and are working on the assumption he’s gone, since this is the last day of the Solheim Cup.”

He stops long enough to pick up a piece of paper.

“The killer is David Steadman. He lives in Oak Park, Illinois. He’s a millionaire, CEO of a chain of grocery stores and a meat packing plant. We’ve spoken to the controller of his company, Mr. Einsinger, who after seeing the warrant served by the Chicago Bureau, confirms that Mr. Steadman has been away on holiday since early January. They’ve been out of touch with him. Eisinger believes he is in the Caribbean. He also confirms he’s a golf fanatic, that he attends the Masters and has tickets for this year’s tournament.

“Mr. Steadman has been seeing a therapist, according to Einsinger. At least up until the time he left Chicago in January. The therapist is screaming doctor/patient confidentiality, but since we have a capital crime she’ll have to cooperate. According to Einsinger, the guy is a loner, doesn’t take anyone into his confidence and is compulsive about every detail.

“I want to be in on the investigation there and the search of his residence and offices. There’s also an elderly lady who keeps house for him; she’s the one I really want to talk to.

“Friday night’s victim was Maggie Baker. As you know, the officers we sent to her residence found the crime scene. The crime scene is a duplicate of the others so I won’t go over the details. You’ll have the autopsy report as soon as Nancy is done. The Colorado Golf Club scorecard he left at the scene was marked for an eagle on the 14th hole. The victim was forty-two. In the box above the score he marked 8 up.

“That means we are out of time. The newspaper scramble: YOUR BALL FLIES WEST is trying to send us to Portland. I guarantee you, he isn’t giving up; these guys never do. In fact, the only thing he has going for him now is the match. He can’t go home again. Personally, I don’t think we need to waste our time at any of the tournaments. Nevertheless, we can’t take a chance. Phillips, Payne and Gibson: you follow the scramble and the LPGA Tour just as before.

“Meanwhile, we have a nationwide APB for him. He’s lost his car; if he tries to use a credit card or cash a bank draft to buy another vehicle, we’ll have him immediately. The Navigator has been towed to Denver. Nancy and our CSU team will do the forensics and keep us advised.

“It would seem he does not have the resources to continue, be we can’t afford to just wait, so you guys are back on the street. We follow every possible lead as quickly as we can. We know who he is; now all we need to know is where he is. Some other law enforcement agency may get him before we do; frankly I welcome the help. If we don’t have him by September 1, the last day of the Portland Classic, you three will meet me in Chicago and we’ll wait for him there.”

He looks around the table at his agents and gives a half-hearted thumb up.

“Let’s go to work.”

L
ou Schein
is waiting with a group of FBI agents at the front door of the Steadman house in the Oak Park suburb of Chicago.

He is admiring the neighborhood. The homes are large solid structures with appealing detail and manicured lawns, beautifully maintained. Large old trees form a canopy over the wide streets. Since the houses have private drives or an alley with garages, there are very few cars parked on the streets. It is discomforting to be an intruder in a neighborhood that implies such respectability and affluence.

The Steadman house is no exception. Its architecture is neo-classical and it is a grand, beautiful residence.

“She’s supposed to be here. We called yesterday and she assured us she will cooperate.” The agent in charge of the Chicago Bureau, Curtis Sullens, is getting impatient. He rings the doorbell again.

“It’s a large house; let’s give her a few minutes.” Schein stands back and looks at the façade. The house is red brick with white pediments over the doors and windows. The windowpanes are spotless. The entire house is exemplary of meticulous care.

An older man comes around the far corner of the house toward the agents standing under the portico. Schein watches him guardedly as he approaches. Two of the agents approach the man and ask him to stop where he is and to lay down his rake.

“I’m Albert, the butler and handyman. Sarah will be to the door in a moment. She was at the far end of the house.”

“We’re with the FBI,” Lou explains. “I’m Special Agent Louis Schein and this is Agent Curtis Sullens from the Chicago office. He is in charge.”

The latch on the front door clicks, the massive, raised panel door swings open, and there stands a small woman wearing a light gray dress buttoned to the collar. Her gray hair is pulled back tightly into a small bun, making her face look tight and drawn. Lou wonders if she’s been up all night.

“Hello, I’m Agent Curtis Sullens. Are you Sarah Waite?”

Sarah nods.

“We spoke yesterday afternoon.” He holds out the warrant. Sarah carefully takes it from his hand, opens it and begins reading.

“It’s just a standard search warrant, ma’am. It gives us the authority to go through the house and everything on the premises, searching for evidence related to the crimes for which David Steadman is accused.”

When Sarah hears David’s name, she looks up from the paper.

“Mr. Steadman is very particular about his personal belongings and his home,” she says. “I spoke to the lawyer, and I know I have to let you in, but we expect you to adhere to the parameters of the warrant. The lawyer will be here as soon as possible.”

Sarah is backing away from the entrance, implying that they may enter.

“We’ll be very careful with everything we handle, I assure you. ma’am.” They enter the house and Sullens gives directions to the agents and introduces Schein to Sarah Waite. “This is Special Agent Louis Schein. He would like to speak with you.”

Lou takes Sarah’s arm and asks her to take him to a quiet room where they can talk.

Sullens leans toward Schein. “I’ll let you know if anything important turns up.”

Sarah starts to protest, but Lou gently tells her, “Let’s let these gentlemen do their jobs. The sooner they get started, the sooner we’ll be out of your home.”

She directs Lou into a small parlor off the foyer.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Ms. Waite? Agent Sullens will let us know if he needs anything further from you. The search will be very careful and thorough, but everything will need to be examined. It will take some time.”

He guides her to a rather cozy seating area; a burgundy settee with a small coffee table in front and two gray wing back chairs facing the settee. Lou allows Sarah to choose her seat, and he positions himself opposite on one of the wing back chairs.

“This is all such nonsense,” Sarah protests. “David can’t possibly have done the terrible things that Mr. Sullens says. He’s a fine man with a great deal of responsibility. He just needed to rest for a while, that’s why he went on vacation.”

She brushes at her dress and Lou sees that she must have been a pretty woman when she was younger. “I can’t imagine the mess these men will leave when they’re finished.” She is wringing her hands, wrinkling a small white handkerchief she’s holding.

Lou tries to speak in a consoling voice as he begins his questions. “I know this is difficult for you, but I have to ask these questions. Have you spoken with Mr. Steadman recently?”

She looks directly at Lou. “No, I certainly have not. Not since he stopped here in April. He planned to go to Florida to play golf. He only spent a few days here, just long enough to take care of some business and pick up a few more things for his trip. If you want to know about his business affairs, you’ll have to ask Mr. Einsinger.”

“So, he was here in April, do you have the dates?” Lou is taking notes.

“He arrived home on the 7th and left on the 19th. I thought he seemed less agitated and more rested. I really think this vacation has been good for him. He’s a very complicated person. He’s so responsible, wants to have his hand in everything. He never took any time off before.”

She pauses thoughtfully, and then fidgets. “Would you like a cup of tea, Agent Schein?” Sarah starts to rise.

“Yes, I would.” He rises with her. “He was planning to go to Florida when he left here in April?”

“Yes, and then he thought he might go to the Caribbean.” She directs him toward the kitchen. “I’m rather surprised he has been able to stay away this long. David likes to be in control of everything. In that way, he is just like his father.”

“And he hasn’t contacted you since April?”

“That’s right. He called me before he arrived home from his trip to Arizona, but since he left on the 19th, I haven’t heard from him. I expect he’ll call me when he’s on his way home, just as before. When he is home, he tells me when and where to expect him, and I do my work based on that alone. I have worked for his family since before David was born. I am his housekeeper, and he expects nothing more.”

One of the agents is right behind them. “We’ve found a gun collection in what appears to be the game room. Agent Sullens thought you might want to take a look.”

“Those belonged to David Sr.,” Sarah interjects. “He collected them over many years. They never interested David; he hates guns. He is quiet and sensitive. I don’t think I ever saw him even touch them.”

Agent Schein shakes his head no to the agent and indicates he is busy. He doesn’t want to be disturbed at the moment.

“Why don’t you sit down over there?” Sarah points to a small table in a kitchen alcove. “David and I had dinner there often. The last time was the evening before he left for Florida.”

Schein seats himself and watches as Sarah lights the stove and places the kettle on the burner. It is an old kettle and an even older stove. The stove is huge in scale, black, and has some scratched chrome trim. It dwarfs her as she stands in front of it. There are six large burners and a large grill. A shelf at the back is full of herbs and spices.

When the kettle starts whistling, she goes to the cupboard for cups and tea. It is loose leaf, so she fusses with filling a tea ball which she drops into a porcelain teapot. She sets two cups and saucers on a tray, and cream and sugar. Finally she joins Lou at the table.

Lou asks, “Does Mr. Steadman go to the office every day?”

“Yes, of course. He leaves here every morning promptly at six forty-five. He is always interested in what is going on at the companies. He has run the companies ever since his father died four years ago. He likes to play golf in the afternoon, but his mornings are always devoted to work. I don’t remember him ever missing a day, until Dr. Jensen convinced him he should go on this vacation.”

“And Dr. Jensen is who?”

“She’s some sort of psychologist. David was seeing her for over a year. I don’t know what they talked about, but David went very regularly. It made him late for dinner some evenings. Before her, he talked to me.”

Sarah’s face reveals what she really thinks about seeing a psychologist; or then again, maybe it is just her dismay over the fact he had been late for dinner. Lou’s intuition tells him there is some resentment that David stopped confiding in Sarah.

She goes on. “I just never could imagine what they talked about. David always has everything under control. Nothing seems to bother him. In that way, he is just like his father. Maybe he talked to her about David Sr.’s death; he certainly hasn’t ever talked to me about it. David and his father were quite alike, except David isn’t cruel.”

“When did Mr. Steadman Sr. pass?”

“He died in the winter of 2009. He had been ill with the flu for about a week. He was bedridden and such an awful man to deal with when he wasn’t feeling well. He was demanding and hard to satisfy. The doctor said he thought his frustration and anger over being ill might have caused the stroke. He died here, upstairs, before the ambulance arrived.” Her expression hardens as she speaks of him.

“Is Mrs. Steadman still living?”

Sarah Waite pauses and Lou waits patiently.

Her voice softens. “Oh, poor Virginia. She died in her sleep in 2001, right here in the house. She had been in poor health for a long time; she was always frail. She had been unhappy for so many years. She was often ill. I think the poor thing was finally too exhausted to go on living. David was her only real joy, her sunshine. She wanted everything for him, but David often misunderstood her intentions.”

Lou Schein is silent for a moment. He makes a note to have copies of the death certificates sent to him. Perhaps it is merely a coincidence they both died at home, but knowing what he knows about David, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe one or both of them were murdered by their son.