Dark of the Moon (vf) by John Sandford

Author:John Sandford [Sandford, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: det_police

13

VIRGIL WAS STUCK. With the accountant working the records, he had nothing to do until four, and then he had a date-and the date wasn't going to help with the investigation. On the other hand, wandering around town wouldn't help much, either.

Time to talk to Judd? And look at other names in his notebook? Suzanne Reynolds, the overweight ex-sex groupie?

Judd first.

HE WENT DOWNTOWN; a guy at the SuperAmerica, gassing his truck, waved at him, and Virgil waved back. Parked in front of the Great Plains Bank amp; Trust, looked at a Red Wing jug in the window of an antique shop, and strolled down to Judd Jr.'s office.

His office was a mirror image of his old man's: same dark wood generating financial gloom, a secretary at a desk behind a railing, two wooden chairs for visitors to wait in.

The secretary said, "Mr. Flowers. Let me see if Mr. Judd is available." The door to Judd's office was open, and she stuck her head inside and said, "Mr. Flowers is here."

Judd said, "Send him in."

JUDD WAS WEARING half-frame reading glasses, looking at a printed-out spreadsheet that he folded and pushed to one side of his desk. He pointed at a chair and asked, "You getting anywhere?"

"Somewhere," Virgil said. "I can't tell you how I know it, but I can tell you for sure that I've upset somebody…"

"That's good," Judd said. "That's something."

"I've got a question for you. I don't know how far you've gotten in working through your father's estate…"

"The Jesse Laymon deal is going to hose me off pretty good, I can tell you," Judd said.

"That's something else…"

"Well, I think there's a question of whether she might have wanted the old man to disappear," Judd said.

"That's being looked into."

"By the sheriff, personally, is what I hear."

"By me," Virgil said. "Anyway: where'd your old man stick the money from the Jerusalem artichoke business?"

Judd looked at him for a minute, then barked; he'd laughed, Virgil thought. "Virgil, there is no money. There is no secret account. As far as I know, there wasn't much to begin with, and believe me, some very sharp investigators from the state and from the IRS tore up everything they could find. It does not exist."

"You're sure."

Judd tapped his desk a few times, then sighed. "Look, how can you be sure? My dad grew up poor, and he was a hard-nosed sonofabitch. Came out of the Depression, and made his own way. So he might have hid some money, if there was any. But if there was, he never would have told a soul. I mean, if he had it, it was a crime, and he wouldn't have taken any chances with that."

"But then the money just would have been lost…"

Judd wagged a finger at him. "Not lost if someday you needed it. Like with anybody who dies with money. Say he had an account in Panama or somewhere, invested it in overseas securities. The investment would grow, and if he ever needed it, he could get it.

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