Read A Wrongful Death Online

Authors: Kate Wilhelm

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Legal, #Suspense, #Contemporary Fiction, #Thrillers

A Wrongful Death (26 page)

BOOK: A Wrongful Death
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Then, when all the guests were gone, and Bailey had gone up to his room, Frank sat down by the fire. "A good evening."

Barbara nodded. "A good evening. You throw a mean party, Dad."

After Frank went to bed, she continued to sit by the fire, but now her thoughts revolved about the new issues to be settled. What to do about the senior Knowltons to keep them safe, how and where to meet with Brice and how to manage a secret meeting with the attorneys who had handled the Knowlton business originally? Then, she found herself thinking again of Darren's big warm hands and his magical, musical voice, and the way he had watched her, smiling all evening.

Chapter 24

On Christmas morning when Barbara went downstairs, there was a box at her place at the breakfast table. Not a wrapped box, but a Cherrywood, elaborately-carved box that she hadn't seen in twenty years. Frank was already seated with the newspaper, coffee in the carafe.

"Merry Christmas," he said.

She wished him a Merry Christmas, sat down and touched the box with her fingertips. As a girl she had loved to sit on her parents' bed, waiting for her mother to open it on the rare occasions when they brought it home from the safe-deposit box. How she had held her breath waiting for her mother to open it and take out a necklace, or a ring, or something else that was exquisite. The box had held the little gold and sapphire tiara her mother had worn at her wedding and the diamond ring she wore on very special occasions. For the past few years Barbara's annual gift had been a treasure from that box.

"Open it," Frank said gruffly.

It was compartmentalized, and some of the compartments still held treasures from the past. The tiara was there, the diamond ring and a jade and emerald necklace. She looked up at Frank and to her surprise felt tears in her eyes.

"She wanted you to have it all," he said. "She told me it was all for you, however I wanted to give it to you. Whenever."

"I don't know what to say. It's too much. Dad, are you sure? It's so much." Its yours.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you." She went to him and put her arms around him. "Thank you. You and Mother always gave me so much, and I gave you both so little."

"Christ on a mountain," he said, disengaging her, drawing back. "Haven't you learned yet that some things aren't about quid pro quo? Sit down and have some coffee while I finish the waffles." He stood and crossed the kitchen to turn on the waffle iron. "Later you can vacuum up feathers in the living room while I set up the birdbath in the garden. Those damn fool cats had a party of their own overnight."

Late that afternoon, in the study with Frank and Bailey, Barbara said, "We have little more than a week before Hoggarth will have to make a move, probably an arrest. Our first priority is to get the Knowltons somewhere they'll be accessible for the Portland group of attorneys, and where they'll be safe. I've been thinking. What if we have a couple of ringers drive off to the coast in the Knowltons' car, with the tails following, and after an hour or so, to make sure the coast is clear, have the Knowltons driven up to Portland to a hotel apartment, or something like that?"

"Sylvia," Bailey said promptly. "She'd love it. She's on the phone at least once a week begging for a new job. And I can find someone to go with her."

Sylvia Fenton was one of the state's most flamboyant women, married to one of its wealthiest men. She had been an actress in off-Broadway shows when Joe Fenton saw her and was smitten, decades ago, and despite family objections he had married her. Sylvia loved to play cops and robbers, and had proven extremely good at it more than once.

Barbara and Frank both nodded. She would be ideal. Given a picture of Mrs. Knowlton, with her own skill at makeup and disguise, Sylvia would play the part flawlessly. Barbara said she would ask Br ice to furnish a picture.

"She wouldn't have to stay on the coast more than a day," she said. "They change their minds and head back home, and take a detour to meet old friends — the Fentons. And Sylvia's back where she belongs. Think she'd do it?"

"Are you kidding? She wants to partner with me, set up a real agency, with offices and staff and get a license to pack a gun. A few details to work out and I'll give her a call," Bailey said.

"Not today," Frank protested. "It's Christmas."

"Tomorrow," Bailey said.

"Once that's taken care of, with any luck by Wednesday I'll breathe easier," Barbara said. "Tomorrow I want to take Elizabeth to the Gateway Mall, shop a little and go to a movie at the multiplex there. I've been looking over times and what's playing, and if Brice Knowlton takes his two kids, plus a couple of their friends, to see a film, and Elizabeth and I go to a different movie a little later, Brice and I can duck out and meet in a third one, a dog with few people, where we can talk. We have to let him know exactly what's at stake here, and get his cooperation to get his folks out of town. How does that sound?"

After some discussion they all agreed the plan should work. The mall would be a madhouse the day after Christmas, and the kids' movie would be packed. Many parents would leave their children to watch movies while they hit the sales and returns. And four young kids, aped eight to ten, would be more than enough cover for Brice.

Barbara went to call Elizabeth, and to go online to buy movie tickets. Then, using her cell phone, she called Brice on his.

"All set," she said afterward. But she was apprehensive, with just one week to go before Elizabeth might be arrested, or have to reveal her identity and face other consequences, and most assuredly be at grave risk. Not enough time, she kept thinking. There simply wasn't enough time to stop the inevitable. Without something real, something concrete to give to Hoggarth, it was going to happen. She narrowed her eyes, thinking, then went upstairs. There was a light under Bailey's door, and a faint sound from the television. She tapped lightly.

"Let's talk," she said when he opened the door. Indicating the little office she used in Frank's house, she led the way and Bailey followed.

He scowled at the only chair besides the one at her desk, but he slouched down into it. "So, talk."

'I've been thinking about something you said, something about Alan and dope, and the three stooges holed up in an apartment."

"It went like clockwork," she said the next evening. She had brought Elizabeth back to Frank's with her, and they were at the kitchen table as he did mysterious things to a salmon. "The mall was even worse than I had thought it could be. Hardly space to move. I hope my followers had fun. They must think I'm a shopping freak by now."

She had met Brice in the back row of a nearly deserted showing of some kind of space adventure. He had been stunned when he learned the truth about the Diedricks Corporation buyout and how much money could be involved. And he had provided a good picture of his parents for Bailey to pass on to Sylvia. He would be waiting for Bailey's call to give him the details about getting them out of town.

"The Knowltons have a bed-and-breakfast lined up for four days starting Tuesday, in Waldport. New Year's weekend was hopeless. We'll have to work with that. Can we get the rest set for tomorrow?" she asked Bailey.

He nodded. "It's all set. Sylvia is gung ho, and she said Joe would play a role this time. We'll make the switch at Freddie's on West Eleventh, big crowded store with dressing rooms. They'll stay on the coast until early on New Year's Eve, then head for home. Big party planned for Saturday. Posing as the Knowltons they'll look like just another couple going to a weekend party." He looked at Frank. "She said she invited you and you told her you stopped leaving the house on New Year's Eve. She said to tell you she'll get you yet."

Frank laughed. Sylvia's constant threat, or possibly regarded by her as a promise, was to snare Frank after Joe passed away.

Elizabeth looked from one to another in bewilderment, and Barbara explained what they intended to do. "After you, Jefferson Knowlton is most at risk. We want him on ice until things are under control."

Elizabeth regarded her for a moment, then said, "And you're right up there with us, aren't you?"

Across the kitchen, Frank stopped squeezing limes abruptly, then began again more vigorously than before. No one answered Elizabeth's question.

Breaking the silence that had fallen over them, Bailey said, "Tomorrow morning I'll take that picture out to Sylvia and we'll plan exactly how to make the switch. I have to be in Portland at four to pick up Hannah, and I'll take the Knowltons up and see that they get in the hotel apartment. Tonight I'll go home to turn on the heat and make sure everything's okay. I think I left some dirty dishes, and that's a no-no as far as Hannah's concerned. She'd blister me for that. Are you going to hang out here?" he asked Barbara.

She nodded.

The next morning when Barbara sat down at the breakfast table, she saw a newspaper article circled with a magic marker. Three Seattle men had been arrested in a drug raid for possession of an unspecified amount of methamphetamine. The article had little more information than that, but it was enough, she thought in satisfaction. It was enough.

She drove Frank to his office after breakfast, and listened as he placed a call to Kevin Lorenz, the attorney he knew on the team that had represented Jefferson Knowlton years before.

After Frank explained what they had and what it meant, he said, "Seems it could go a couple of ways. He could press for criminal charges of fraud, grand larceny, whatever, and no doubt win a hefty settlement. Or he could insist on reestablishing his rights to the material, having the patents in his name and hold out for a percentage of the company. Keep it quiet, let the sale go through, retain some authority in the research and development department, and complete some very important work, if he chooses, collect a more modest settlement or back pay or something."

Barbara nodded her approval. She had made the same suggestions to Brice, who had seemed doubtful that his father would cooperate to that extent. He really wanted to destroy everything in his path, Brice had said. But if an attorney pointed out the real benefits of doing it that way, he might be swayed, he had acknowledged.

"I know," Frank was saying. "We'll be able to establish provenance in a week or two. But it's enough to start with." He listened again, then said, "Good enough. I'll fax the material, and you can let us know after you consult your partners. I understand that he can be a difficult client, but there's an awful lot at stake here. If you agree to take him and his case again, I'll get the original material to you."

"What do you think?" Barbara asked after he hung up.

"They'll take him back. Just being cautious. He brought up the same question I did, where did the material come from. But they'll take it. I'll get Patsy started on the faxes. And then call Milt Hoggarth."

Hoggarth didn't keep them waiting for his lunch hour that day. Minutes after the faxes had been sent and the research material put back in the safe, he arrived. His cheeks and nose were fiery from the walk over in the cold and he said yes promptly when Frank offered coffee. He held the cup with both hands, warming them. "Your dime," he said, eyeing Barbara with suspicion, as if he knew it was her show.

"I want to tell you a story," she said. "I'll keep it short, just a plot outline, I think they'd call it in school. But first, to repeat, every word in my statement was the absolute, literal truth. We'll go on from there. I've talked to a number of people and learned a lot of things I didn't know when you and Janowsky first came around asking questions. I feel it's my civic duty to let you, the authority in the case, have access to the same information, to facilitate your investigation."

Hoggarth's suspicions increased and he made no effort to hide the fact. "Just an innocent bystander, as usual," he muttered. "Go on."

"Right. Let's start back in October. Suppose Elizabeth Kurtz came across some papers that were very damaging to the Diedricks Corporation, papers that indicated a serious crime had taken place. Now suppose she took the papers and fled in order to have a chance to read through them all and consider what to do about them. But she recognized her danger and, accordingly, took her small child with her, and managed to keep out of sight for weeks as she gradually made her way to the west coast. For whatever reason she returned to the cabin she had visited in the past with her ex, and since she had the cables and connections for a laptop and printer, we'll assume that she had made copies of the documents she had taken. Now we don't have to assume or suppose, but accept as fact that the caretaker of the cabin knew a woman and child were in the cabin from the day she arrived, and he conscientiously called the Kurtz house in Portland to report this. He left a message on the voice mail. The caretaker told Shelley that was the case," she added. "I told you someone had to check that out. Anyway, back to our story. Two days later Elizabeth was brutally attacked and left to die. Her laptop and printer and every scrap of paper vanished."

She paused and sipped her coffee. "Fast forward," she said then. "You know about the next days at the shelter, but nothing real after that until I received a call from her. But we know there was a tap on my phone, and we know that between the time of the call and the time I got to the apartment to keep our appointment someone entered the apartment and shot as a woman walked out of the shower and into the living room, then shot her again just to make sure. That person searched, possibly looking for the originals of the copies that had been taken during the first attack. Now, wouldn't you say that if we knew who had a tap on my phone, and who was called that day, it might be a significant lead to follow in investigating who fired those shots?"

Hoggarth had not said a word, and didn't say anything when she paused again. He helped himself to more coffee and leaned back, waiting.

She smiled slightly. "I know you and Janowsky doubted my story, that I had not met with Elizabeth, and Sarah Kurtz and her son Terry were equally disbelieving. So much for a reputation of truth-telling. But it seems that Bailey got it in his head that if someone had put a tap on my phone, that same person might want to know if I met with anyone about certain papers, and even hired some people to keep an eye on me, follow me around to note to whom I talked. You know how Bailey is once he gets an idea. He can't let it go and, lo and behold, he proved his point. I had a constant shadow, and he set out to find out where they holed up, and if possible who had hired them. He found out where they were and told me the address. Then, to my surprise, I read in the morning newspaper that three men at that same address, men from Seattle apparently, had been involved in a drug bust. What a strange coincidence, I thought."

BOOK: A Wrongful Death
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