Page 105 of Dead Man's List

“He wouldn’t be,” Connor said. “He wouldn’t contribute to another politician’s campaign, would he?”

“Actually, he is on there,” Marshall said. “Go back to last year. He gave the max, as did his wife. Not a whole lot, considering how rich Drummond is, but he did contribute to Munro.”

“Did Munro contribute to Drummond’s campaign?” Kit asked.

“Let me check. I think we got a list of Drummond’s donors too, when we were looking at him for the murder of MariaMendoza.” Connor swiped and tapped the screen of his phone until he found the file he was looking for. “No, he didn’t.”

“That might not be weird in their world,” Kit said, “but it feels weird to me. Can I see the list again?” Connor passed it over and Kit studied each name. “I recognize at least fifteen names, now that I’m really looking at them. They’re all heads of companies around the city. I’ve seen articles about them over the years. I don’t think I’ve met any of them, though.” She stopped, her eyes frozen to a single name. “Tamsin Kavanaugh contributed to Munro’s campaign.”

“She did,” Ashton said. “Why is that important?”

“Well, she gave the max. As did her mother and her father.” She looked up at the three detectives. “First of all, reporters aren’t supposed to be affiliated with any political party. That she was sleeping with Munro was bad, but she could claim that she wasn’t and nobody could prove otherwise unless they took photos of the two of them in bed.”

Connor shuddered. “Gee, thanks for that mental image.”

“You’re welcome,” Kit said, not missing a beat. “But this here,thisis a documented paper trail. She shouldn’t have been donating anything to any candidate. She could get fired from her job with the online newspaper.”

“Didn’t think about that,” Marshall muttered, sounding embarrassed. “Is there a second point to follow the first?”

Kit nodded. “Yep. Her parents are dead. Have been for twenty years, if she didn’t lie to me about that.”

Ashton frowned. “Why would she tell you that?”

“She interviewed me three years ago, when I was new to Homicide and had solved a cold case. She was trying to make me feel all chummy with her, like, ‘Your sister was brutally murdered and my parents are dead, too. See, we’re the same!’ ” Kit scowled. “Spoiler alert: we arenotthe same.”

“She donated to Munro two years ago, so after she told you that.” Marshall was typing on his laptop. “She didn’t lie about it. Her parents are dead. She donated a couple thousand of her own money, but gave two-thirds of that in her dead parents’ names? Why would she do that?”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder if the payment was the original entrée into Munro’s orbit. Remember that Veronica tried to shake down Sam for an appointment with Munro.”

“You’re right,” Kit said. “I wonder if the rest of these people also paid for appointments. Ash, can you write that question on the whiteboard since you’re closest?”

“His handwriting sucks,” Marshall said. “I’ll do it.”

“My handwriting is fine,” Ashton said. “I just pretend it’s not because those dry-erase markers give me headaches.”

Kevin Marshall gave his partner the evil eye. “You suck.”

“It’s fair,” Ashton said amiably. “But I don’t have a headache now.”

Kit chuckled. “Thank you, Kevin, for writing that down. Okay, back to this list. The names I recognized are those of rich dudes who own companies. They might be the country club names you know, Connor. Let’s ID each name and figure out their relationship to Munro. But first, I want to sort the rest of these records. So we have his personal life, his council life, and…” She studied the next pages in the stack. “His social life, I think. There’s his golf membership…”

“Memberships,” Marshall corrected. “Munro belonged to six golf clubs and three country clubs around the city. Plus you’ll find records of his vacations to play golf in Palm Springs, Pebble Beach, and Half Moon Bay.”

Connor whistled. “Munro was spending a fortune on golf.”

Ashton huffed. “He recently bought a custom-made set of clubs for almost eight grand.”

Kit blinked. “Forgolf clubs? Damn, I will never understand rich people.”

Connor shrugged. “Mine were much cheaper, if it makes you feel better.” Then he frowned. “Wait a minute. Drummond had fancy golf clubs, too. I remember searching his golf bag, among all his other things, when we arrested him. They might have even played together. I wonder where Drummond was a member.”

“Will a country club tell us who’s a member?” Kit asked.

“It’s unlikely without a warrant,” Connor said. “They like to keep their membership roster private. But I bet my mom would know.”

“Can you call her?” Kit asked.

“Sure.” Connor tapped his phone, then put it on the table, with the speaker on. His screen saidMama.

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