The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [69]
Kerney’s sources of information about Tyler Norvell consisted of a retired state legislator, a former chief of staff for an ex-governor, a lobbyist, and a syndicated political columnist. He made the rounds, picking up a bit more information about Norvell from each informant.
After three stops, he knew that Norvell owned an expensive Santa Fe home, which he frequently made available to key legislative leaders when they traveled to Santa Fe on official business. He’d also learned that Norvell was the only senate minority member who consistently got his pork-barrel appropriations passed and signed into law. His success was attributed to a close personal friendship with the senate majority leader and backroom deal making with his colleagues.
Additionally Norvell, who was divorced, frequently threw parties at his Santa Fe house during legislative sessions, using his sister’s modeling students as hostesses. Some probing questions about possible indiscretions involving the young women failed to yield any embarrassed pauses or gossip. Norvell’s sister, Cassie Bedlow, was always in attendance at the parties and kept a careful eye on the girls.
That didn’t mean the informants weren’t equivocating. Sex was always the subject people lied about first and foremost.
Interestingly, Kerney’s first three contacts had slightly different takes on the source of Norvell’s wealth. The lobbyist thought that Norvell had made his money in Colorado as a lawyer, where he’d lived for some years before returning to Lincoln County and getting into real estate. The ex-chief of staff believed Norvell had been a partner in a commercial construction firm that had cashed in on the Denver building boom. The retired legislator thought Norvell had gotten rich through the stock market.
Kerney met with his last contact, Ellsworth Miller, in the press and media room that overlooked the dark senate chambers at the state capital. By law the New Mexico legislature convened only once a year in either thirty- or sixty-day sessions, so the chambers were generally empty. While some critics considered a part-time legislature unprogressive, Kerney liked the idea that the house and senate incumbents couldn’t turn public service into a well-paying, full-time sinecure.
Ellsworth Miller touted himself as the dean of New Mexico journalists, which wasn’t an exaggeration. In his seventies with fifty years of experience as a reporter, Miller had become a fixture at the capital. He sported a full head of curly, disheveled gray hair that rolled over his shirt collar, and a scruffy beard always in need of a trim. In the twenty years Kerney had known him, the look hadn’t changed. But he had aged dramatically. Ellsworth’s face was permanently flushed red by drink, and the skin around his neck was loose and flabby.
“Why the interest in Tyler Norvell?” Ellsworth asked in his gravelly voice, after Kerney had explained the focus for the meeting.
“It’s supplemental to an investigation,” Kerney replied.
“That tells me exactly nothing,” Ellsworth said.
“Maybe we can exchange information,” Kerney said. “You go first.”
“Only if I get an exclusive on the story.”
“If there is a story, you’ll get it first,” Kerney replied.
“Is this part of a criminal investigation?” Ellsworth asked, peering over the rim of his reading glasses.
“It’s possibly tied to one,” Kerney answered.
Ellsworth put his glasses in his shirt pocket. “Okay, I’ll play along. I assume you know the basics: He’s divorced, no children, his ex-wife lives out of state, he’s rich, votes conservative, and he’s well regarded on both sides of the aisle.”
“I’ve got all that.”
“I’ve heard very little dirt or gossip about him. There was word of a DWI that got buried by a former Santa Fe county