“It’s something to look into.” Collins made a note. “Apparently he got on well with Bob Vega.”
“Bob has outlasted every man that’s ever worked for Earl. He’s a real careful manager. In fact you could call him a bunny except where the ladies are concerned. There Bob throws caution to the winds. I don’t know how many times he’s been married — I doubt if he knows himself. Anyway, Vega’s energy is pretty well sopped up by his wives and ex-wives and wives-to-be. He doesn’t have time for juggling the accounts.” Kershaw spoke in a tone of amiable contempt, as if any ordinary man would find the time.
“Who else would want to shoot Mr. Genneman beside his ex-managers? What about his main business, Genneman Laboratories?”
“No dice. That runs like a big clock. Earl’s only problem there was what to do with all his money.”
“He and his wife got along well?”
“Certainly.”
“As I understand it, he has a son and a daughter. “What of them?”
“Son and stepdaughter. Earl Junior is in high school. A funny kid, I can’t make him out. Jean is Opal’s daughter by her first husband — a real nice girl, a senior at Stanford. She and Buck James got some kind of off-again, on-again thing going. In fact, she introduced Buck to Earl, and Earl put him to work. Buck seems to have done pretty good. Earl was buying a drug company back in Wisconsin just to put Buck in charge of it, or something on that order; I never did get it straight.”
“What about the Westco salesmen? Did they finagle with drugs, like the managers?”
“I never heard of anything along those lines. Westco has two other salesmen besides Buck, and they’ve been with the company for years, through manager after manager.”
Collins frowned. “Do you seriously mean that each of the previous managers at Westco dealt in illegal drugs?”
“One of them did for sure. He’s in jail. Another one did, but Earl couldn’t prove it. There was a big shortage in the barbiturates. The man broke a window and called it robbery. Earl fired him. The first one Earl fired on sheer hunch, and sure enough, the books were cooked. I forget all the ins-and-outs.”
“And how does Mr. Retwig fit into the picture?”
“He’s an old friend of Earl’s. In fact, he used to work for Genneman Laboratories. Three or four years ago some other outfit hired him out from under Earl’s nose.”
“That didn’t bother Mr. Genneman?”
“Hell, no. Myron said he’d stay if Earl wanted to meet the other people’s offer; Earl wouldn’t do it. So Myron left. But they both go in — went in — for model railroads. I guess you’d have to say Myron Retwig was Earl’s best friend.”
Collins made more notes. “That seems to cover things pretty well. You can’t guess the identity of the man who followed you up the trail?”
Red Kershaw shook his head. “I owe people money, but that’s collecting the hard way. Besides, it was Earl Genneman he got mad at and shot, not me.”
“Perhaps you’d step out and ask — oh, Mr. James to step in.”
Kershaw went outside, and a moment later Buck James came in. He looked haggard; a sparse stubble of blond beard covered his chin. He seated himself and waited while Collins consulted his notes.
Collins leaned back in his chair. “Do you have any ideas about this case, Mr. James?”
Buck looked up at the ceiling as if sorting them out. “Naturally I’ve been thinking about it. I wind up in the same place every time: it just doesn’t make sense.”
“Do you know of any enemies Mr. Genneman might have had?”
“No.”
“Did he oppose your courtship of his daughter?”
Buck flushed, started to speak, caught himself. Then he said, “He did not oppose my courtship of his daughter.”
As Collins started to ask another question he made an impatient gesture. “I’ll explain the situation once and for all. I was a teaching assistant at Stanford when I met Jean. We became engaged. Earl, far from disapproving, put me to work after I got my M.A. About three months ago Jean and I — well, for one reason and another we called off the engagement. It made no difference to Earl; in fact he was about to put me in charge of a new Westco outlet.
Not that Earl was soft-headed; if I hadn’t cut it he would have fired me, potential son-in-law or no potential son-in-law. That’s how the situation stands as of today.”
Collins opened his notebook. “Your address?”
“2660 Viola Way, San Jose.”
Collins wrote, looked up. “You seem to have been the first one to spot the man who was following you. Can you describe him?”
Buck James shook his head. “I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. The trail swings back and forth up the hill, and I saw him just as he stepped out of sight. He was about — oh, a hundred yards away, too far to make out features. I think he had on tan pants, but that’s all I can tell you.”
“Mr. Genneman didn’t seem worried?”
Buck reflected. “That’s hard to say. Let’s say he seemed puzzled. All of us wondered why the man behind didn’t overtake us. We were just plodding along.”
“What will you do now?” Collins asked suddenly. “This new Westco outlet presumably won’t go through, with Mr. Genneman dead.”
“I’ll probably be going back to school. Maybe law school. I certainly don’t plan to sell drugs the rest of my life.”
“Will you ask Mr. Vega to step in, please?”
Bob Vega came like a man in a dream. He smiled wanly at Collins; a gold tooth glittered with a personality of its own.
“Sit down, Mr. Vega,” said Collins. “I’m hoping we can get to the bottom of this tragedy, and I need your help.”
Vega nodded with dignity as he seated himself. “A thing like this is completely beyond my experience. I can’t understand it, I’m totally confused; in fact, when I think of the whole terrible thing it’s like a nightmare. One minute Mr. Genneman is walking in front of us, the next minute — ugh.” Bob Vega swallowed.
“It must have been pretty bad. As I understand it, you were directly behind him when the shot was fired?”
“No. Earl was first, then Mr. Retwig, then me, then Mr. Kershaw, then Buck.”
“What did you see?”
“Absolutely nothing. There was just this explosion; I was stunned. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
“You were probably as intimate with Mr. Genneman as anyone. Did he ever mention anyone who might want him out of the way?”
“No, that’s what’s so confusing. Earl — Mr. Genneman — was a very definite man. Very forthright and emphatic. But he was fair. I certainly have no complaints; he was more than decent to me. I don’t know what I’ll do now.”
“Won’t Genneman Laboratories continue in business, and with it Westco?”
Bob Vega inspected his fingers. “I don’t know. People always need drugs. We supply a staple commodity. But what Mrs. Genneman will do—”
“Does Mrs. Genneman take an interest in the business? Will she be able to take over?”
“I really couldn’t say,” Vega said.
“Thank you, Mr. Vega. Oh, one more thing. Your home address?”
“747 La Crescenta Drive, Cupertino.”
“And your business address?”
“You mean Westco Pharmaceuticals?”
“Do you have any other business?”
“No, of course not. Westco Pharmaceuticals, 1200 Emerson Street, San Jose.”
“Thank you. Would you be good enough to ask Mr. Retwig to step in?”
Myron Retwig came quietly into the room and lowered himself into the chair.
“Where do you live, Mr. Retwig?” asked Collins.
“In the country west of San Jose. The address is 6901 Monterey Road.”