Sam Kincaid 01 - The Commission

Do you happen to know if Merchant is a smoker?”
    “Like a chimney—couple of packs a day, I’d guess.”
    ***
    After obtaining Sue Ann’s address and pager number, I left the motel and ran into Frank in the parking lot. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was about to catch hell from Lou Ann and should probably expect to sleep on the couch for the next few nights.

Chapter Nine
    It was late in the afternoon, and I hadn’t heard anything from McConnell. I decided I’d better let her know that we now had a possible perp in our murder investigation. Certainly, John Merchant fit the bill. And I couldn’t rule out involvement by Sue Ann Winkler, even though her mother had tried to convince me she was nuts about Vogue and wouldn’t have had anything to do with killing him. With Merchant, we had motive, not so with Sue Ann, at least not yet.
    Before calling McConnell, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the office. My assistant, Patti Wheeler, answered on the first ring. “You’ve been a bad boy again, haven’t you? I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon.”
    “I know,” I confessed. “I know I should keep my cell turned on. But you know how much I hate the damn thing. So, tell me what’s going on.”
    “Two things. First, Brad Ford must have gone straight to Sloan and complained that you brushed him off when he asked you for information on the status of the investigation earlier today. Sloan wants to talk with you ASAP. From the tone of his voice, I think you should assume that you’re going to get your butt chewed.”
    “Doesn’t sound like much fun, but it won’t be the first time. What else?”
    “The Salt Lake mayor and chief of police are holding a news conference this evening at five to report on the investigation. Apparently, the press has been pestering everybody all day for some details on the case. They want you and Lt. McConnell to brief them on the investigation beforehand and then attend the news conference just in case something comes up. Sloan wants you there, too. You know how paranoid he is about press relations.”
    “Okay,” I said. “Where are they holding the news conference?”
    “The mayor’s conference room at city hall.”
    “Have you heard from McConnell this afternoon?”
    “Oh yeah, she called a little after one o’clock looking for you. She was at the Medical Examiner’s Office for Vogue’s autopsy.”
    “Well, good for her. It could be worse. It could have been me attending that autopsy. I bet she won’t be going out tonight for spaghetti.”
    “Gross. Anybody ever tell you what a macabre sense of humor you have?”
    “Only you, dear, only you.
    “Patti, will you run Sue Ann Winkler and John Merchant through the Utah Bureau of Criminal Identification and the National Crime Information Center? I want past criminal history on both and any outstanding warrants. And run Merchant through our database and tell me whether he’s currently on probation for assault.
    “Call me back as soon as you have something.”
    “Sure. And Sam, keep your phone turned on, will ya?”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    I decided to call Norm Sloan to update him on the investigation and absorb whatever tongue-lashing he felt inclined to administer. On the second ring, Brad Ford picked up. It was obvious from his condescending tone of voice that he was delighted I had called.
    I was transferred to Norm Sloan, who wasted no time on preliminaries. “Mr. Kincaid, so nice of you to favor me with a call. I hope it wasn’t too inconvenient for you. Brad reported earlier in the day that you were too busy to brief him on the status of the investigation. That made me very unhappy. Tell me, do you realize I have someone to whom I’m accountable?”
    I’d heard this tone before. When Sloan wanted to chew somebody out, he rarely raised his voice or swore. Instead, he used an acrimonious, caustic tone that left no doubt in the mind of the recipient just how unhappy he was. Since I’m working to improve my tact and diplomacy, not usually two of my strengths, I responded in as contrite a manner as possible, hoping it didn’t sound as phony as it felt. “Yes sir, I know you’re accountable to a variety of different constituencies.”
    “Do you, Mr. Kincaid! Well, at least we’re making a little progress. I’ll just bet you’ve heard of Orrin Spencer Walker. You know the chap. Governor Walker. The same Governor Walker who wanted me to fire you a couple of years ago over that little