Two Billion Reasons to Kill???

By James McLaughlin

A Chicago area tycoon, T. Jackson Bender, is brutally murdered at his home in Winnetka on the Fourth of July. The motive seems obvious. After all, the man was worth billions. The big question is: who stands to profit the most from his sudden demise? Burton James, along with his longtime buddy Patrick Murphy of the Chicago Police Department, set out to solve the crime. The pair will take you on a journey with more twists and turns than a cornfield maze in the month of October. But don't assume the obvious...you do know what assume spells, don't you???

• Language: English
• Publisher: James McLaughlin
• Release date: Jan 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466132870

James McLaughlin

His lifelong love of reading coupled with an overactive imagination fueled the creation of Jim McLaughlin's novels. Starting with comic books as a kid, Jim is never without a good book at his side. A career move to Chicago was the spark that ignited the story behind "The James Charade". The economic downturn set in motion the central theme in "The Leveler". "Two Billion Reasons to Kill???" features Burton James, the popular character first introduced to the world in "The James Charade".Born in Iowa and raised in Prairie Village, Kansas, Jim spent the majority of his career in the medical equipment industry, working for large companies before plunging headfirst into the wonderful world of entrepreneurship by starting and selling two successful medical equipment businesses in the Kansas City area.Now retired, Jim spends his time reading and writing. He loves to travel with his wife, is addicted to water sports, is lousy at golf but still likes to play, and spends his spare time in his bead studio where he practices the age old art of lampwork.Jim's favorite authors are Catherine Coulter (www.catherinecoulter.com), Lawrence Sanders (may God rest his soul), and Robert B. Parker (now writing in Heaven with Lawrence Sanders).

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Howdy! Burton James here. A year has passed since we last visited. I thought it might be worthwhile to update you on what’s transpired in the interim. As you may recall, I was successful in recovering fifteen million dollars plus interest fraudulently pilfered from the coffers of my best friend’s mother. To make a long story short, the con artists responsible for this devious act confessed their sins and were all given their just rewards.

Sidney Rush, the man posing as Simon Rappaport, had a lengthy criminal history of investment fraud. The prosecutor petitioned the judge to invoke the habitual criminal act and our perpetrator was sentenced to thirty years hard time in the slammer.

Simon’s accomplice, Simone Rappaport (real name Sylvia Goldstein) got off a little easier. As a repeat felon with a resume that included car theft, shoplifting, and prostitution, plus an outstanding warrant in Florida for passing counterfeit checks, she earned herself a nice little vacation from society for the next ten years.

Melinda Rush, aka Monique Michelle, the murderess whom I discovered to be Simon’s real wife, was sentenced to life in prison without parole. Illinois abolished the death penalty in 2011, so the taxpaying citizens in the state will share in the cost of her room and board until she draws her last breath.

My good friends, the Weber’s, are all doing fine. Mabel still treats me like a son. David is still my best friend, always has been and always will be. Lisa is still the most beautiful female on the face of the earth and no; we have not developed our relationship any further than previously reported. Truth be known, although we have expressed our deep love for each other, we’re still struggling with the brother/sister thing. We agreed to move ahead slowly with our relationship in hopes that we could each resolve the issue in our own way. So far I’ve made very little progress.

David never reimbursed me for all the expenses I incurred recovering his mother’s money. But, on the plus side of the ledger, Dr. Wilson J. Tanner learned of my little charade via the media. He called me a few days after the story hit the networks. I was expecting a real ass chewing at the least and a lawsuit at the worst for borrowing his identity. On the contrary, he was thrilled with my success and pressed me for every detail. We spent two hours on the phone. As luck would have it he really was planning on moving his company to Chicago. He was intrigued about the office park in Barrington and made a trip to the Windy City. I acted as his representative and showed him the property. He ended up buying it, plus two other buildings in the complex. He’s in the process of moving his company and the majority of his employees to the Chicago area from Palo Alto. For my role in the transaction I earned a commission check of a million two. Not bad for a single days work. The dollars earned certainly more than covered my expenses related to the Mabel Weber case, and partially funded a dramatic change in my lifestyle, but I’ll tell you about that later. Suffice it to say, all’s well that ends well.

So, what else is new you ask? Plenty! Get something cool to drink, a bowl full of your favorite snacks, and sit back and relax because you’re not going to believe this one. Oh, and one other thing. You might want to put on your hip boots ‘cause it might get a little deep around here!

~~********~~

CHAPTER ONE

I was sitting with my parents and the Weber clan near the shore of Lake Michigan, enjoying the soft summer night and watching a Fourth of July fireworks display that placed second in grandeur only to the one put on by the City of Chicago near Grant Park the previous evening. My belly was full and I was slightly buzzed, feeling very content and at peace with the universe. Life was good, God was in His Heaven, and everything was right with the world.

The fireworks display had been arranged by Jack and Becky Bender, new but not so popular neighbors in Winnetka. They lived near the home of my youth and just a few doors up from the Weber’s.

I sat on a folding chair between the love of my life, Lisa Weber, and my BFF, her brother David. We were part of a group of eighty or so people who had been invited by the Benders to enjoy a day of snacking, drinking, outdoor games, drinking, swimming, drinking, gorging ourselves on a large buffet dinner of excellent grilled meats, poultry and seafood, followed by fireworks over the Lake, and of course, more drinking.

During a lull in the fireworks, as the company responsible for the display reloaded the mortar tubes for the grand finale, a series of sharp reports cut the still night air. They seemed to come from the direction of the Bender house.

Did you hear that? I asked David.

Hear what? My buddy was either looped or deaf.

Those loud pops. They sounded like gunshots.

David snickered. Relax. It was probably someone’s kids who got their hands on some ladyfingers.

A woman’s high-pitched scream suddenly pierced the night. Jack! she screamed, over and over. Jack! Jack!! Somebody help me, it’s Jack!!!

I looked at David Weber and frowned. "Did you hear that?"

He gave me a concerned look. Sounds like somebody’s in trouble.

I leaped up from my chair and sprinted towards the Olympic sized swimming pool at the rear of the new house. David followed close behind. When we rounded the end of the guesthouse we saw Becky Bender, sobbing loudly and pointing at something floating in the pool. It’s Jack! she screamed. He’s not moving!! Somebody please help him!!!

T. Jackson Bender was indeed floating face down in the deep end of the pool, all five foot six and three hundred plus pounds of him. The water around him was tinted misty red.

This looks bad. What should we do? David asked me.

The rest of the houseguests had followed us from the shoreline. They congregated near the shallow end of the pool where Becky stood. Some of the women were trying to comfort her. Some of the men joined David and me.

A lifesaving pole with a hook on one end was hanging on the wall of the guesthouse. I used it to snag Jack Bender’s belt and pulled him over to the edge of the pool. I handed the pole to David and said, Here, hold this tight and don’t let him float away. I want to take a closer look.

Somebody handed me a small flashlight. I turned it on and focused the beam on Jack’s head, or I should say what was left of it. No doubt the man was dead. It’s hard to sustain life when the back half of your head is missing.

I stood up and said to no one in particular, Somebody please call the police.

~~********~~

CHAPTER TWO

It was nearly three in the morning before the Winnetka police allowed the six-dozen or so guests of the Benders to leave the property.

When my parents first told me about the July Fourth Bender bash I politely declined the invitation, but I eventually caved in under pressure from the supreme commander of the James family. Keep in mind, son, the fact that the fee income from loyal clients like Jack Bender allows you to live a very comfortable lifestyle. My father can be very persuasive.

Jack Bender was one of my father’s biggest clients, both literally and figuratively. Although I didn’t know him well I didn’t particularly care for the man. I found him to be crude, without class.

Many of the guests were from the neighborhood, accepting the Bender’s invitation out of curiosity rather than true friendship, hoping to get an inside view of the modern monstrosity of a house they’d built to replace a beautiful stone mansion that had graced the five acre Lake Michigan lakefront lot for nearly a hundred years. The guest list also included eleven children fathered by Jack with four different wives; some of the children were still children themselves, three are grown, and one with children of his own. His three former wives were not present for the occasion nor were his two oldest daughters.

I stood in the shadows of the guesthouse and watched as the police struggled to remove Jack Bender’s body from the pool. It took six strong men to heft his body from the water to the pool deck, and then finally onto a gurney. As the paramedics wheeled the gurney away I tried to ask one of the officers a question regarding probable cause of death. He didn’t respond to my question but directed me to go stand with the other guests gathered on the upper patio at the rear of the house.

When I joined the other guests on the patio police officers were at work making a record of each attendees name and contact information. When they completed their task we were told as a group we would be contacted individually by investigators within the next twenty-four hours to discuss any information we might have regarding Jack Bender’s sudden demise. The police officer in charge asked that if anyone had anything specific to tell the police to please stay behind. Everyone else was free to leave.

Bender’s family members had been isolated inside the house. Guests were not allowed to enter.

David and I held back for a moment, snagged the officer in charge, and explained our role in the discovery of Jack Bender’s body. The officer jotted down a few notes and then told us we would be contacted soon for more in depth interviews.

I sought out my parents and the three of us walked in stunned silence a block south on Sheridan Road, and then crossed the street to our family home. I had parked my car in their driveway, anticipating a large crowd at the Benders. I had no desire to be blocked in if I chose to take an early leave from the party.

I kissed my mother on the cheek and wished her sweet dreams. She looked completely drained. I turned to give my father a hug and he said, Burton, I know it’s late but could you come in for a bit?

Sure, I replied.

~~********~~

CHAPTER THREE

We ushered my mother inside and watched as she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. My father pointed in the direction of his study, just off the entry hall of the house. I followed him in and took a seat.

A nightcap, Burton? father offered, pouring himself three fingers of brandy from a crystal decanter he keeps on the credenza behind his desk.

Just a small one, thanks.

My father poured another three fingers from the decanter and handed me the glass. I raised my glass in his direction and then took a sip.

Oh what a night, father groaned as he lowered himself into his desk chair. I’m not sure what to make of all this, but it certainly presents me with a myriad of problems.

How so, sir? My relationship with my father, while very loving, has always been somewhat formal. I cannot recall ever calling my father dad or pops. It’s always been either father or sir. But he still welcomes my hugs, just as he did when I was a small child.

As I’m sure you know, Jack Bender is, or was, a very important client. Not only do we insure his vast business empire, we also insured his life for fifty-five million dollars.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Wow! I croaked.

Wow is right. To further complicate matters, Jack recently drafted new trust documents for his estate. He asked me to serve as his sole power of attorney in the event he was unable to conduct his personal and business affairs. He also told me he was going to appoint me as the sole trustee of his estate. We had a meeting scheduled this coming Friday with his attorney to review and sign all the documents.

I took a sip of my brandy and studied my father’s face.

I’m not sure what precipitated these changes. Jack didn’t fill me in on all the details, but he alluded to a degree of marital discord with his wife, Becky. As you know she’s considerably younger than Jack. He was sixty-six, she thirty years younger.

Do I smell the aroma of gold digger, father?

Perhaps. It’s hard to know. The couple has twin daughters. I believe they just turned three. Becky is Jack’s fourth wife. He has nine other children, some from each of his former wives. Two of his sons are grown and work with him helping to manage his businesses.

How did Mr. Bender get along with his sons?

James squinted his eyes. He never talked to me about his sons, but now that I think about it I remember Jack mentioning once that he was growing tired of their constant bickering. Seems like they could never agree on anything without a battle. Maybe that was why he was making changes in his estate plans.

I know Mr. Bender owned a Mercedes dealership in Evanston. You mentioned businesses. What else did he own?

Jack Bender started out working as a mechanic in the Evanston operation. He eventually acquired the business from the original owner, and then parlayed that into a string of luxury automobile dealerships across the country. He also owns a number of large boat dealerships and a couple of marinas. He told me his combined companies employ just over five thousand people. Because of our business relationship I’ve seen his personal financial statement. His net worth is in the neighborhood of two billion dollars.

I choked on my drink. Two billion dollars? I can’t imagine having that much money. Carrying fifty-five million dollars of life insurance suddenly made sense to me.

Well he does, or I guess I should say he did. And that’s what concerns me. There are two billion reasons why someone would have taken his life tonight. I don’t think for even one moment that his murder is not somehow linked to the revision of his trust documents.

"Wait a minute, sir. We don’t know he was murdered. He could have fallen and hit his head for all