A Wrongful Death (20 page)

Chapter 19

Inside the house, Bailey went off to use Frank's phone. He used his cell phone only for emergencies, or when he had no other choice, unconvinced as he was that they didn't result in brain cancer. Frank stirred the fire into new life and added a log.

Barbara turned to Shelley, "You first. Who's doing what to me?

"You know. That awful article yesterday. And today, that filthy talk show. Our own local raving rant. Alex listens for ideas for his cartoons, and he called me to come hear what they were saying. You and Elizabeth Kurtz were lovers, you beat her up in that cabin and she ran away from you. Callers demanding an investigation, how do you disbar a lawyer, femfascists taking over the city. On and on." She said it in a rush, nearly a wail.

Barbara cast an accusing glance at Frank. "An awful article yesterday? Strange, I didn't come across it."

"I saved it for you," he said gravely. "If I'd known they were going to air that broadcast today, I would have taped it. We'll need a clipping service to keep up."

She snorted. "Right. So it's started with a bang. Big surprise." Then, turning to Shelley she said, "As for what's going on, you'll love it." She told her.

Shelley was as stunned and disbelieving as Frank had been. "She can't get away with it. What happens when they find out?"

"Good question," Frank said. "Wish to God I had a good answer."

Bailey had drifted in while Barbara was talking, and now he said, "Jefferson Knowlton has his own two tails. Knowlton and his wife live in a semiretirement community, and the two guys rented a house about half a block away. Supposedly fixing it up for the parents of one of them. Don't know if they have a tap on his phone. I told my guy not to push it. We'll just assume they do."

"Another big surprise," Barbara said. "They'll be watching for a special-delivery package, or if I get in touch with Knowlton, or something."

Bailey shrugged. "You going to stay put the rest of the day?"

She nodded.

"Things to do," he said. "See you later."

"Dinner at seven," Frank said. Bailey saluted and ambled out in his usual slouching way.

"There goes the restaurant idea," Barbara said sourly. "We have to find a way to talk to Knowlton and I thought we might all accidentally show up in the same restaurant," she said to Shelley, "but not with four pets at our heels. Who knows? They might even compare notes."

"Someplace big and really crowded," Shelley said.

"Not the mall ," Barbara said hastily with a shudder. "Something like the Hult Center."

"We could all go see the /Messiah/ tomorrow night," Frank said. "Half of Eugene will be there."

"They have meeting rooms," Shelley said. She flushed slightly. "I sort of contribute, and I bet I can get a room for a meeting."

Barbara laughed. It was anyone's guess how much of a contribution Shelley made, enough to give her a little clout apparently. "That's it. Shelley, if you can get a meeting room, and tickets for four Knowltons, Brice and his wife, and the parents, plus two for Dad and me, I'll give Brice Knowlton a call and let him arrange it with his dad. Separate sections, nowhere near each other."

Half an hour later, with an air of triumph, Shelley said it was done. "The tickets will be at the ticket counter, and I'll drop in and make sure the room is okay."

"Great. Now for Brice Knowlton." Barbara called his cell phone. When he answered, there was too much music and laughter in the background to talk, and he moved to a quieter room evidently. "Sorry about that "he said. "Kids. What's on your mind?"

"We have the research material your father needed years ago to prove his claim," Barbara said. "We have to meet with your father and you, and you can't tell anyone why, not even him, until after we have our talk."

"You have it? How?" He sounded strained, his voice husky. "Never mind. Where, when?"

"We have a room set aside." She told him the arrangements, then said, "And I repeat, you must not tell anyone why, not yet. Call it a gift from a grateful student or something. Can you arrange it?"

"Hell, yes! We'll be there!"

They talked another minute or two and when she disconnected, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Shelley had been gazing thoughtfully at the fire as Barbara talked. Now she said, "Do you think Lieutenant Hoggarth will follow up on Sam Norris? Ask him if he called anyone before the attack?"

Barbara shook her head. "He didn't say."

"It will depend on those over him," Frank said. "On his own, he would. He's a good investigator. But a lot of pressure is probably coming down on him to stay in his own jurisdiction, to leave it alone. And he subscribes to the chain-of-command theory. He follows orders. We wait and see."

"How long can we wait? You think Norris really knew someone was in that cabin?" Shelley asked, turning again to Barbara.

"He knows those woods, and he knows that's the only cabin up there. He glanced over that way when I told him about it, but it was raining and no smoke was visible. It would have been before the rain, the days before. I think he knew very well that someone was staying there and, as caretaker, I also think he would have called the family about it." She shrugged. "We'll have to find out, but I doubt he'd talk to Bailey or any of his crew. He's too close-mouthed. He's honest and probably would talk to the authorities, or counsel for the defense. That means after an arrest."

"He'd talk to me," Shelley said confidently. "People do, you know."

Almost in unison Barbara and Frank both said, "No!"

Frank leaned forward and said quietly, but with emphasis, "Shelley, you have to understand how big this is. Hundreds of millions of dollars are at stake, and someone's willing to spend whatever it takes to save it. No doubt a whole agency has been employed, and they must have been trying to find Elizabeth from the day she walked away with those papers. Now, believing she's dead, they have three issues to keep under control. One is to recover that research before it reaches Knowlton. If that fails, they'll probably have a case ready to convince a judge or others that Knowlton spent the last decade preparing those papers in order to present his case again. And the third and perhaps the biggest at this time is to keep the attack at the cabin a separate issue from the murder here. As long as Leonora Carnero is suspected of killing her lover, it's an airtight case, a case of jealousy or something of the sort. But if that first attack is seen as part and parcel of a larger conspiracy, that case falls apart. I have no doubt that after tonight, you'll become another target of a smear campaign and have your own followers, perhaps a tap on your telephone. The minute you set off in the direction of the cabin and Norris, you'll become a danger to them."

Shelley didn't flinch or draw back from his stern, steady gaze. Her mouth was set in what he could only think of as a stubborn line. He had seen that expression on Barbara too many times not to recognize it.

She said, "Certainly, I understand. We get deliveries all the time at the house. If Alan comes in a delivery van, brings flowers or something, I can leave with him and no one will suspect a thing. He'd have to drive around the back of the house, out of sight, to turn around. Our dog won't let anyone on the property without sounding the alarm, so there wouldn't be any way for anyone to see me duck inside the van." She looked from him to Barbara, and then back. "We're a team. In this together, and we all have a part to play. I can play my part."

After a moment of silence Barbara said, "She's right, Dad. We have to know, and it would work. We can set it up with Bailey when he comes back."

Wordlessly Frank stood and went to the doorway, where he paused. "Shelley, stay for dinner?"

"Thanks, but no. I told them I'd be back."

He still hesitated, then said, "How about if you bring Alex and the good doctor to dinner on Christmas Eve? No presents, just food, and maybe if people beg me, I'll sing a carol or two."

Shelley laughed. "I'll be here with my gang. We plan a quiet Christmas Day at home, our first one in our first house, but I'd love to come Christmas Eve. Alex and I will start begging the minute we get here."

He went on to the kitchen. They were right. They had to know if Norris had called someone and who that someone was and they couldn't wait until after an arrest. He knew very well that if Elizabeth was arrested, fingerprinted, a convicted murderer tagged with Leonora's name, she not only would go to prison, but she would be in a national data base the rest of her life, and would never get it straightened out again. They had to know.

Shelley looked like a lovely child, a delicate angel, but she was strong, and she was intelligent. It would work, and he had no doubt that Norris would talk to her. As she had said, people did. One dimpling smile was all it took.

After Shelley left, Barbara went out to the kitchen, where Frank had put wine on the table. "I wonder how Alex will take it," she said. "He'll know in a second that she's into something dangerous."

"Remember what she told us some time ago. He knows what she does, and he knew before they got together. And she said he'd never interfere with her work. He's proud of her."

That much was obvious, Alex couldn't hide it, Barbara thought. Just as she had been proud of her father, as her mother had been. They had known that at times he was making dangerous enemies, and they had been proud of him. She had forgotten that, she thought in wonder, how proud of him she had been all her life.

The doorbell rang and she went to admit Bailey. He joined them in the kitchen and helped himself to bourbon with just enough water to call it a mixed drink. When she told him Shelley's plan, he thought about it, then nodded.

"It would work. Alan will need a backup car, someone to tag along for a few miles, just to make sure no one caught on."

"If there's even a suspicion of a follower, call it off," Barbara said sharply.

"Sure, sure. Use your phone?" he asked Frank, who waved him away. Taking his drink with him, he ambled off to the study.

In a few minutes he was back. "All set. A florist will make a delivery day after tomorrow, around nine. She's to be ready at the back door. Backup car will be around."

Frank stopped whatever he was doing for a moment, then briskly put a casserole in the oven, without comment. Barbara drew in her breath. "They should be back in town by four or a little after."

"Got a minute?" Bailey asked Frank.

He nodded. "Dinner's in the oven. What else?"

"We checked out that old Kurtz house today " Bailey said. "Where Sarah Kurtz and Terry are staying. There's a guy with them, don't know who he is, a big one. Looks like a bouncer or wrestler. Anyway, the house is on University half a block from Eighteenth, by the Pioneer Cemetery, an alley behind it, and a lot of old-growth bushes and trees everywhere. I had my guy drive from there to the apartment on Eighteenth at a quarter after four this afternoon. Eleven minutes."

"The timing is perfect," Barbara said. "Everyone keeps saying the plane landed at three-thirty, without taking into account how long it takes to deplane, get to the terminal, get baggage. She couldn't have gotten to the apartment before four, and probably five or ten minutes after is more like it. Time enough to take a shower and shampoo her hair." She stopped, thinking of the next few minutes. In her mind's eye she saw Leonora putting on Elizabeth's robe, wrapping the towel around her wet hair, hearing a noise, thinking Elizabeth had come. Smiling a welcome...

A shot from across the room. Maybe she jerked on the floor, moaned. Another shot from above her. Then the killer went to the bedroom for a search. It wouldn't have taken long, just the one room, with nowhere else in the apartment to hide anything, just the one room.

"He thought he had plenty of time," she said aloud. "I said I wouldn't get there until a little after five, and he had no way of knowing that Elizabeth was coming. From start to finish it might not have taken more than half an hour."

Bailey saluted. "Thought you'd want to know. I'm going to go watch the news."

Barbara looked at Frank. "Whoever did it had the gun ready, knew exactly what to do and didn't waste a second thinking it over. Just waiting for an address. He must have shot her the instant she came from the bathroom." A shiver ran through her as if she had been touched by an icy hand. "An ex-husband, Jason's grandmother?" She shook her head. "The third person at that house?"

"We can't assume it was someone from that house," Frank said. "We can suspect it, but that's as far as we can go. It could have been the people tapping your phone, or someone we know nothing about. Tomorrow I'll get that corporate structure report, and a list of the heirs of the original investors."

"I can't help thinking how for so many weeks Elizabeth did everything exactly right. Then she called my office." Abruptly she turned and left the kitchen.

That night in the living room they planned the next day or two. "I'll have some names for you to look into," Frank said to Bailey. "I don't know yet how many or anything else about them."

"What we do know is that we want the dope on them as soon as possible," Barbara said. "And I have to go shopping," she added.

Both Frank and Bailey looked disbelieving.

"I need something to carry a stack of papers in. Not my briefcase, not to the Hult Center for a gala evening. And you can't carry them in your suit pocket," she said to Frank. "And later, I have to go home to dress for a night out."

"While you're doing that, I can go grocery shopping," Frank said, thinking about the dinner party shaping up.

"When Alan and Shelley get back to town, I'll meet them and transfer her to the SUV and deliver her somewhere. Her place? Here? Where?" Bailey asked.

"Here," Barbara said. "It's going to be another one of those days," she added, almost as gloomy as Bailey, dreading the mall three days before Christmas.

It took quite a while to work out their schedule for the next day, and as soon as they were finished with it, Bailey said he was going to bed. He would watch television in his room for another hour, Barbara knew; she had heard the TV the night before, and his low chuckle now and then.