Chapter 13: Finding Germaine

The next morning, Nancy took her bug into work.  Carl was going to drop Murdock off at the airfield, then take the truck on another round of realtor meetings.  At the office, Nancy talked briefly to Riley about their active case load before heading into her office to dive back into the LaSalle case. She really wanted to track Sam Germaine down and see if he could provide any insight.

First she spread out her timeline, which was starting to get dog-eared from being folded and re-folded.  She spent a few minutes applying tape to the ripping perforations, to try and keep it together, during which time her phone rang. It was her Uncle, "HM said you were in the office this morning," he said tersely, "we need to meet to discuss the LaSalle case."

Nancy smiled humorlessly, staring out the window, "Why, I'm just fine, Uncle, how are you?" she said sarcastically.

There was a moment of silence, "I'm sorry, Nancy," he sounded like he meant it, "I'm afraid that at times I get wrapped up in work, and forget common courtesy.  How are you feeling? The ultrasound went well, I trust."

Nancy sighed, now wasn't the time to start an argument with her Uncle, so she resorted to harmless conversation, "The ultrasound went well and everything is going fine," she said, "We found out that we're going to have twins."

"Really? That's wonderful," he sounded truly pleased, "They will be very close.  Your Mother and I always were."

Nancy had to smile at the wistful tone in her Uncle's voice.  It was when he spoke of her mother that his softer side always shone through.  There were times when she wondered if her Uncle would have been a different person had her mother lived.  She had a feeling that her mother had always been the one to make sure Hunt remembered the human side of the equation. Something that he seemed to become ever more callous to as the years passed.

"HM was more than a little surprised, I'd never mentioned that you and Mom were twins," she said, "Truthfully, I guess we were both pretty taken aback. But we're excited about it now that the initial shock is passed."

"Twins will be more work," he said stiffly, "But I'm sure you are more than capable of handling the extra burden."

He turned immediately back to business, "I'd like to meet with you this afternoon.  Will you be available at 2?"

"Yes," Nancy said, "do you want me to come to the airfield?"

"No, I'll come in to your office.  I'll see you at 2 sharp."

They said their goodbyes and hung up.  Nancy looked out the window thoughtfully for a few minutes, considering her Uncle's ambivalence towards her husband.  There were times when he seemed to be warming up to him, and others when she was certain he was going to hold a grudge forever. She was getting tired of being caught in the middle. Considering how he seemed to feel about him, Nancy was surprised her Uncle had been 'grooming' him to take over Stockwell Enterprises.  At times her Uncle was a total enigma to her. Murdock's refusal was sure to rankle - and cause friction for some time.  She sighed audibly, well, truth was it wasn't anything new.  They'd weather this storm just like they'd weathered the others that their life together seemed to be wrought with.

She turned back to her desk, and started making phone calls, trying to track down Sam Germaine. First she called information again, just to confirm the telephone number one more time.  Then she dialed the number again, and again got the answering machine.  She left another message, requesting a call back.

She tapped her pencil on the desk, her chin on her hand. After a moment of reflection, she picked up the phone again and dialed information.  She asked for a listing of Germaines - there were only 5, besides Sam, listed in LA proper, she decided to give each a try.  She had just finished with the third Germaine on her list, coming up empty-handed, when her phone rang, "Hello, Adam's Investigations, Nancy Murdock," she answered.

There was a moment of silence, then, "Um, hello, Ms. Murdock," a woman's voice began hesitantly, "my name is Jean Turner.  You've left a couple of messages on my father, Sam Germaine's, answering machine."

Nancy sat forward, "Hello Ms. Turner," she said, "I really appreciate you returning my call.  Is it possible for me to speak with your father?"

"I'm afraid not," she said quietly, "my father was killed about 4 months ago."

"I'm so sorry," Nancy said, "I didn't realize.  The gentleman I spoke to in Denver must not have known that Sam was dead. It will come as quite a shock, he respected your Dad."

Jean let out a bitter laugh, "Forgive my disbelief, Ms. Murdock, but I seriously doubt that anyone at the CIA respected my father after what happened."

"Please call me Nancy," she said personably, and then decided to see where this line of discussion led, "I wouldn't be so sure about how everyone felt about your father.  The man I spoke with implied that he believed your father was made a scape goat - that the real perpetrators of the leak got away."

This seemed to open the flood gates, "It's good to know that there are people at the Agency that aren't misled by pure politics," Jean said, her tone edged with anger, "My father gave the Agency 30 years of his life, and how did they repay him?  They forced him into early retirement for something that wasn't his fault.  He didn't leak any information to the Chinese government, and he certainly didn't get any money for it!" she added vehemently, "If he had I wouldn't be in the financial pickle I'm in right now."

"Did you father have any theories on who was responsible for the leak?" Nancy asked.

Jean sighed, "For months after his 'early retirement' all he could talk about was finding out who was responsible, and clearing his name.  He had plenty of theories, file after file of information - in fact, the files are probably still here."

"Did he mention any names in particular that you recall?"

"Honestly, I usually let it go in one ear and out the other," she said regretfully, "I kept telling him to forget it, it didn't matter to us, his family.  But Dad was proud, he just couldn't let it be.  He'd disappear for weeks at a time, following up some lead or another - but I don't think it ever led to anything. It lasted for about a year and a half, then finally he gave it up."

"Just like that?"

"Yea," Jean said wonderingly, "He came home from one of his 'missions' as we'd come to call them, and he said it was over.  That it didn't matter anymore.  He'd come to terms with the Agency dumping him, and he was just going to let it be," she laughed, again, "he said that the Agency deserved what it got, and he didn't care anymore."

Nancy digested that for a moment, then asked, "If you don't mind telling me, how was your father killed?"

"You know, it seems so stupid," Jean said, "After all those years working in spy circles, Dad was killed by a damn burglar.  Can you believe it?  He walked in on somebody stealing the TV, and they shot him."

"Was the person responsible apprehended?"

"Not as far as I know.  In fact, part of the reason I'm here today is that the police finally released the house as a crime scene.  You should see the mess I have to clean up," there was a catch in her throat, "They shouldn't be allowed to do that.  It's like having to lose him all over again."

Nancy was surprised, "The police just released the crime scene, after four months?" that seemed very odd indeed, "Can you tell me who the detective in charge of your father's murder case is?"

"Sure, it's a Detective Leslie Jenkins," Jean said, "I've got her number somewhere, but not handy . . ."

"That's OK," Nancy said, "I'll be able to track her down.  I just have one more question, do you ever recall your father talking about a Tristan Caswell or Phillipe LaSalle?"

Jean was silent on the other end of the line, considering the question, "I'm not sure. Dad dropped a lot of names.  Those are both vaguely familiar, but I don't really recall specifically."

"Jean, I really do appreciate you taking the time to talk with me," Nancy said sincerely, "And I am truly sorry about your Dad. If you come across anything, or remember anything that you think might help, I'd appreciate a call.  Particularly if it involves either Caswell or LaSalle."

"If it means clearing Dad's name, then I suppose I could," Jean said.

"I'm not sure that it will," Nancy said uncertainly, "It's possible, but not probable."

"That's OK," Jean said, "At least Dad seemed to make peace with it before he died. It would be a nice closing touch to his life."

Nancy and Jean said goodbye.  Nancy looked down at the notes she'd jotted during the conversation with Jean Germaine Turner. One phrase jumped out at her, 'the Agency deserved what it got.'  Why would he say that, and why suddenly give up the fight to clear his name?  At this point she wasn't even sure Sam Germaine was even related to the case she was working on - but she had never been one to believe in coincidence.  She called information, and got the number for LA Homicide, and when she got through she asked for Detective Leslie Jenkins.

At the airfield, Murdock and Carl went in together, and talked to Doc about the partnership papers.  Carl had made a few modifications to the contract, mostly just clarifying language to make sure there was no misunderstanding regarding responsibilities and rights under the contract, "I'm actually rather surprised that you're willing to give up as much control as you are," Carl told Doc, "You do realize that under this contract HM has the freedom to make changes around here without your approval?"

Doc smiled, "I realize that. I'm getting' too old to run this place - particularly with all these new-fangled things out there.  I've tried to keep up with technology, but quite honestly I'm just getting tired of it.  I'm ready for some new blood to take over."

Carl looked at Doc appraisingly, then turned to Murdock, "Looks like a pretty liberal partnership contract - I'd sign it before he changes his mind."

When they had finished signing the paperwork, Carl stood up, "I've got to get going," he said regretfully, then looked at Murdock, "Do you need me to pick you up at some time in particular?"

Murdock was about to answer, when Doc interrupted, "You need to borrow a vehicle?" He asked, "I've got an extra car that's just sittin' in my drive over there."

"You sure you don't mind me borrowing it," Murdock asked, "It would just be while Carl is in town."

Doc reached in his pocket, and took a key off his ring, "Sure, why not," he said, handing the key over, "It's just sittin' there gathering dust anyway.  Somebody might as well drive it."

Murdock turned to Carl, "Guess that means I'll see you at home."  Carl waved goodbye and left.

Murdock turned to Doc, "So, you gonna show me the ropes around here so you can take that vacation?"

Doc looked at him questioningly, "I thought you still had things to work out with that Uncle-in-law of yours."

Murdock glanced out through an open hangar door, seeing the jet still sitting on the tarmac, "Yea, I do.  But I'm not backing down from this one. I'll make it work, Doc.  Don't worry about it."

Doc smiled, "Well, come on into the office and we'll go over the books together. Then I can show you some of the improvements that have been on the backburner for awhile.  Maybe you'll have the energy to implement some of them."

Nancy got through to Detective Leslie Jenkins after being transferred through the wrong department twice.  Jenkins sounded harried when she answered the phone, "Homicide, Jenkins."

"Hello Detective Jenkins," Nancy said formally, "My name is Nancy Murdock, I was wondering if you might have a few minutes to talk to me about Sam Germaine's murder."

A harsh bark of laughter, "A few minutes?" she said without humor, "If I had a few minutes . . ." she stopped, "Sorry, Ms. Murdock, is it? You called at a very bad time."

"Nancy, please," she said appeasingly, "If this is a bad time, perhaps you could call me back when you do have time.  I'd really like to discuss the circumstances of Sam Germaine's murder with you.  I think it may relate to a case I'm working on." Nancy briefly introduced herself, and provided her PI license number, to lend credibility to her request for information.

Jenkins spoke briefly with someone off line, "Sorry about that, this place is crazy.  We're so short-handed it's not funny," she was quiet for a moment, "Let's see, Sam Germaine - killed walking in on a B&E, right?"

"Yes," Nancy confirmed, "About four months ago, from what his daughter told me."

Nancy heard a door open and shut, and papers rustle, and added, "Really, Detective, I don't want to interrupt anything," she said, "If you need to call me back some other time, that's OK."

Jenkins chuckled, "Well, to be quite honest, I'd probably forget.  Besides, all I'm missing is a division meeting, where'd they'd probably give me more work. Let's see - yea, I remember this case. He was shot assumedly after walking in on a burglary-in-progress - ummm, February 26.  Jeez, that long ago, and we just finally released the crime scene.  I don't imagine the daughter was too flattering when it came to the police department," she said ruefully.

Nancy smiled, she instinctively liked the woman on the other end of the line, "No, she wasn't thrilled," she admitted, "I do wonder why you kept the crime scene closed for so long - that's unusual isn't it."

"Yes," Jenkins said, "But if you'd seen this crime scene, you'd understand.  Germaine was a retired CIA agent, and I don't think the man ever threw anything away."

Nancy was puzzled, "What does that have to do with the B&E and murder."

Well, see there's the thing," Jenkins said reflectively, "There was something real fishy about this crime scene.  If it was a strict break and enter, the perps usually don't bother personal files - if there's no money in it, then why take the time.  They're after the big stuff, VCR, TV, Stereo.  You know, stuff that's easy to liquidate."

Jenkins continued, unprompted, "The VCR, TV, Stereo were all gone, as you'd expect, but the files had been gone through . . . almost like the perp was looking for something in particular."

"So, do you think that the murderer knew Germaine?"

"No way to know.  We combed the house, didn't find any prints other than the families, so whoever it was was pretty careful. A small physical sample, but it didn't help either.  It looked like Germaine had kept files on every case he'd ever worked with the CIA.  All kinds of low life.  I had grand ideas about cross-checking his files against his history at the CIA.  However, the feds have been less than helpful, and I just don't have time for the hassle.  It took forever, but we catalogued all the files in the house - man did I take a lot of grief for that.  Now it doesn't look like it'll do me any good anyway.  But there it is, that's why we had the crime scene closed for so long."

Nancy considered for a minute - did she really want to ask this . . ., "You catalogued all the files in the house? Do you think it would be possible for me to get a copy of the list?"

Jenkins hesitated, "It's part of an active investigation, I really shouldn't," she said apologetically.

Nancy sighed, "That's OK, I'm not real sure I want to wade through all that myself."

Jenkins laughed, "Join the club!"

"Have you reviewed the list, yourself?" Nancy asked.

"Yes, I've got a copy right here . . ."

"Do you recall seeing the names Tristan Caswell or Phillipe LaSalle anywhere in those files?" she asked hopefully.

Nancy could hear Jenkins flipping pages, "All I have is a list of file labels.  That's not going to tell you whether those names are mentioned in the file itself," she said, "I'm afraid I don't see either of them right off."

"I really appreciate your time, Detective . . ." Nancy began.

"Call me Les - I hate formalities," she said.

"Well, thanks for taking the time to talk to me, Les," Nancy said, sincerely, "If you have any breaks in the case, I'd really like to hear about it." She gave Jenkins her office and home phone numbers.  They said their goodbyes and rang off.

Nancy sat back and swiveled to look out the window.  Something about Sam Germaine's murder didn't sit well with her.  If Caswell or LaSalle were involved, it would be premeditated murder. But was it even related?  Without more information she couldn't prove it, but her gut told her it was.