Page 112 of Dead Man's List

Connor shrugged. “Enough that we can’t rule her out. Are you thinking about Alicia’s multiple-hands theory?”

“Yeah,” Kit grumbled. “Trisha suggested that if we identified more blackmail victims, they could have a support group. That made me wonder if a bunch of them did get together and plan their littleOrient Expressscheme.”

Marshall wiped dust from the potato chips off his hands. “They’d need to have identified each other. That’s kind of the beauty of Munro’s plan. If he had multiple people with secrets to hide, nobody is going to talk about their secrets. They’d have no way of knowing if other people were in the same boat.”

“And if there were more victims at the country club, they’d all have the funds to pay,” Ashton added.

“Not everyone there is super rich,” Connor said. “Trisha was paying five grand a month. That could break quite a few people in the club.”

“Anyone file for bankruptcy lately?” Kit asked. “How couldwe find out the state of the finances of each member? We’ll never get a warrant for their financials. Not with what little we know.”

“True.” Marshall looked at Connor. “Would your mom know?”

“Maybe, but my dad’s more likely to have heard something about specific finances. I’ll call him.” He dialed, then put his phone on speaker again.

“Connor? Is everything okay?”

“We’re fine, Dad. Everyone’s fine. I’ve got you on speaker. I’m with Kit and two other detectives, Kevin Marshall and Alf Ashton. We’re working the Munro case. This is my father, Andrew Robinson.”

“Nice to meet you, Detectives. Hi, Kit. What do you need?”

“We’re focusing on the country club,” Connor said. “Do you know of any members who’ve had recent financial issues?”

“Can’t get a warrant, huh?”

“Haven’t tried yet. Hoped to get some insider info.”

“It would mean a lot, sir,” Kit asked.

“Oh, I’ll help you. I’m thinking. Hush now. My brain doesn’t click into motion as fast as it used to.” They were quiet until Andrew finally cleared his throat. “Okay. There are a few things I’ve noticed. Simon Daly recently sold his Maserati and bought a Cadillac. He took some grief for that because that Maserati was a damn fine car. He said he was streamlining his finances so that he could retire. I personally thought he’d likely made some bad financial investments. Then there’s Hugh Smith. He recently sold his house in La Jolla for a place downtown. A lot less square footage and a lot less fancy. His wife was none too pleased and toldeveryonewho’d listen. Your mother would probably have more details.” He was quiet for another moment, then he sighed. “Then there’s Earl O’Hanlon.”

“He died, didn’t he?” Connor asked.

“Killed himself.”

Kit sat up straighter. “When was this?”

“Two months ago. Let me check my calendar. I went to his funeral.” Twenty seconds passed with Andrew muttering to himself in the background. “Found it. His funeral was November eighth.”

“Why did he kill himself?” Kit asked.

“He was broke. His wife thought he had another woman on the side and she’d left him to go live with her sister. His housekeeper went in for her final paycheck—because he’d had to fire all the help—and found him hanging in the great room. He’d been dead at least a day, from what I heard. He left a letter saying that he’d made some bad business decisions and couldn’t see any way out.”

“That’s sad,” Kit murmured. “Do you think he made bad business decisions?”

“I always thought Earl was a savvy businessman. He’d turned one small corner store into a chain of high-end grocery stores. He was rolling in money at one point. But we never talked about his personal finances.”

“Was there anyone he would have shared his financial issues with?” Kit asked.

“Joe Rooney. The two were business partners for thirty years, up until Joe retired. If he told anyone, it would have been Joe. Earl’s widow might know. But she’s moved somewhere southeast. Mississippi or Alabama, maybe. Oh, your mother’s coming, Connor. If you don’t want her involved, we need to end this call now.”

“If you think of more club members with financial problems, can you let us know?” Connor said. “Thanks, Dad. See you Saturday.”

“You be careful, son.”

“I will.” Connor ended the call. “We have the names of threepeople who were hemorrhaging money. Earl O’Hanlon can’t answer any of our questions, but his widow might. We just need to track her down.”

“Or the friend,” Kit said. “Joe Rooney. Do you know him, Connor?”

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