A Wrongful Death (30 page)

"It's not just a matter of our convenience when we appear at the D.A.'s office," Barbara said. "We have to have a little time to arrange a party, a private conversation with the Kurtz bunch. And I don't want to have to dodge a process server for the next several days. I don't have time for that."

Hoggarth's eyes narrowed, and he said, "What are you planning?"

"There's a condition," Barbara said. "You have to agree that the one who throws the party gets to call the tune."

After another long pause Hoggarth nodded, and Frank went to tell Patsy they could use more coffee.

Chapter 27

Hoggarth had been gone only a few minutes when Elizabeth arrived. She shook her head at the offer of coffee. "I'm caffeined out for now," she said.

Then, with all three seated around the low table Barbara said, "I learned that I was going to be subpoenaed, forced to give a deposition under oath and of course I can't do that at this time. We can stall on that for a short time, but we have to make our move fast, now. On Friday, I intend to take your statement, and a taped version for Dr. Diedricks, and offer to trade my silence concerning it for the murderer of Leonora Carnero."

"If it was one of that group, it had to be Lon Clampton," Elizabeth said. "Terry couldn't have done that, deliberately fired at her face. I saw her face, Barbara." A long shudder rippled through her and she looked away. Then she said in a lower voice, "I'll never believe Terry would have done that, or could have done that. Besides, he would have known it wasn't me."

Barbara had made that same argument with herself, but she had taken it one step further. Whoever fired that first shot had to make certain the victim was dead, since she might have identified the shooter if she survived. And Terry might have had less hesitation to shoot Leonora in the face than he would have felt about his ex-wife. She said none of this, but waited for Elizabeth to continue.

"And I can't believe Sarah — or any other woman — would have left her grandchild to die in the wilderness. They had to know Jason was with me. It must have been Clampton. He's Sarah's agent, her gofer, whatever. If he knew she wanted me gone, he was capable of getting rid of me."

"Well," Barbara said, "I'll play the tape of you reading part one of the statement, show them that I have it in hard copy and see where it leads. They know very well that if I go public with that, their potential sale is dead."

"And part two? What's that for?"

"After the police have the killer, Elizabeth, we have to come clean about your identity. You can't continue as Leonora and expect to leave the country using her passport, and we can't have you listed among the dead a day longer than the killer is at large. We have to straighten it all out, wipe the slate and let you get your own life in order with your child. And you have to affirm where those research papers came from."

"What will they do to me? For making false statements? Lying." She was very pale.

Silently Frank got up and went to his bookcase where, behind the T's, there was a concealed bar. He opened it and brought out a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and glasses. After returning to the table he uncorked the wine, poured a glass and handed it to Elizabeth, all without a word.

"You're our client," Barbara said, accepting her own glass. "Your mother retained me to look after your interests, and you retained Dad to do the same thing. Between us, we'll protect you. There will be a gigantic eruption when it comes out, but after the dust settles, we'll work things out, and they'll go along. What choice do they have? Shown to have believed a woman committed her own murder? I don't think they'll want to become fodder for late-night comics." Saying this, Barbara left unsaid a fervent hope that she was right — they would work things out.

Elizabeth sipped her wine, then put the glass down. "You said a tape for Grandfather Diedricks, and that you'd trade your silence for the killer. What does that mean? We forget the fraud, or let Grandfather do whatever he wants about it?"

Barbara nodded. "That's it. Let him decide. Gary Swarthmore says his mind is as sharp as ever, but he doesn't know what's been going on. He should make the decision."

"That's what I decided," Elizabeth said after a moment. "His choice." She sipped the wine, then said, "You want me to read the statement into a tape recorder? Do you have the tape recorder here?"

Frank had an excellent tape recorder, one he used illicitly in court whenever Barbara was defending a capital case. He brought it out from his desk and placed it on the table. "It's got a new tape ready to go," he said.

"When you get to the end of part one, stop and let me put in a few words," Barbara said. "Okay?"

Elizabeth nodded. Barbara handed her the statement, and in a clear, steady voice she began to read it.

An hour later it was all done, the statement signed and notarized, copies made. As Elizabeth pulled on her jacket

Barbara said, "On Friday I'd like Shelley to meet you and take you out to her place. It's a lovely house in the foothills of the Coast Range, lots of hills and forest, and you'll get to see some of Alex's artwork. He's very good."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked sharply. "What do you think might happen Friday?"

"Probably nothing, but I also like insurance. They might decide to get cute and make a premature arrest while Dad and I are busy somewhere else. I'm just being cautious. It's my nature."

"You said she'll meet me. You don't even want anyone to know I'm with her, do you?"

"You've got it. I don't want them to suspect a thing. So you're taking the day off to shop or something. That's all they need to know if it comes up, but as I said, I don't think it will."

"All right," Elizabeth said. "It really doesn't matter much to me where I spend the days. Killing time, waiting, that's all I do anymore. Should I call her, or will she get in touch with me?"

"She'll call before noon. You can pet lunch on the way."

Elizabeth shrugged as if to say food was the last thing on her mind. After she was gone, Barbara sank down onto the sofa. "The trouble with having a sharp client is that they know when to ask questions, and they want real answers."

She was still slouched there when Frank answered his phone and spoke with Kevin Lorenz briefly. "No problem," he said to Barbara afterward. "He and the partners are quite eager to take on the Kurtz legal team again, now that they have a real case. They had a preliminary discussion with Jefferson Knowlton and smoothed the waters, apparently, and they'll be set to move the minute they get proof of origin for the research papers."

Barbara drank her wine, thankful for a few minutes of relaxation, wishing she could turn her brain off and let it relax as well as her body. Her phone buzzed and reluctantly she pulled it out to see who was calling this time. It was Maria.

"Hi," she said. "What's up?"

"I hate to interrupt," Maria said, "but I didn't know what to do about Terry Kurtz. He called to make an appointment and I put him off, no appointments until next week, but he came anyway. He's out in the hall waiting for you. When I told him you might not even be in today, he said he'll wait, and he'll be back tomorrow and wait all day if necessary."

"Shit," Barbara said. It was ten minutes before five. "I'll come around and see what's on his mind."

She told Frank where she was going.

"Come to the house after you see the fellow. Let's go to Martin's for dinner later. I'll call to reserve a booth."

"I told Gary Swarthmore I'd call around seven."

"We'll make it after that."

When she arrived at her office building, Terry Kurtz was sitting on the floor by her door with his back against the wall. He jumped to his feet, and she motioned him to follow, waved to Maria in passing and led the way to her office.

"I've had a long day, Mr. Kurtz, and I'm tired. What do you want?

He looked different again, she thought, taking off her jacket. She tossed it onto a chair and sat behind her desk. He looked determined, and the shadows under his eyes made him appear older, almost formidable.

"I want to make a deal with you," he said, as brusquely as she had spoken. "Did Elizabeth tell you what we were looking for in my father's files? Never mind, I forgot, you don't give out anything. Well, it was a share assignment, a cut in the company. I found it, and she found something else. I don't know what it was, but it sent her running. Anyway, I have that assignment, and it's legal as hell. Here, today, I want to sign it over to you, in exchange for my son. My mother's offer of fifty grand is peanuts compared to what that assignment's worth. It's yours if you'll swear you won't let her get her grandson Jason, but turn him over to me."

"Mr. Kurtz, I don't know the laws of New York, but here a father's wishes would prevail, not a grandmother's. Legally you have far more right to gain custody of your child than she does."

"You don't understand. She'd put him somewhere out of reach and play it out in court for the next five years, and meanwhile he'd be in hell." He took an envelope from his pocket and tossed it down on her desk. "The assignment. Look it over. We can transfer it on the spot."

"Why would she do that, Mr. Kurtz? You seem to believe she has no interest in him. Why would she fight for custody?"

"Christ, I don't know why. That's what she intends to do if Elizabeth's mother tries to gain custody, and she was appointed by Elizabeth as his legal guardian in the event of her death or incapacitation. Maybe my mother's just playing out her act. I don't know why, I just know she would do it."

She pushed the envelope toward him and stood up. "I'll think about what you said, Mr. Kurtz."

He put the envelope back in his pocket and regarded her for a moment. "Ms. Holloway, if you intend to make a deal with my mother that includes letting her get her hands on my son, you'll regret it. I swear to you, you will regret it." He wheeled about and left.

She waited a moment, then went to the outer office. "Is he gone?"

"Yes, indeed," Maria said. "Slammed the door on his way out."

Shelley came from her own office and looked about as if checking. "Whew. He was one furious guy."

"Come on back," Barbara said to her. "A few things to go over, but it shouldn't take long." She looked at Maria and said sternly, "And you can knock off trying to look busy and go home. It's past time for you." She knew it was a futile effort.

Chapter 28

Bailey pulled up to the deep porch of Henry Diedricks's house at five minutes before two on Friday. Earlier it had rained, now a fine mist hung in the air, and fog was forming in the shrubs and trees, rising wraithlike from the driveway. At one side of four or five stairs, a ramp led down from the porch to a well-groomed walkway that curved out of sight among the fog-shrouded trees. With Bailey right behind her, Barbara mounted the stairs and rang the doorbell. She pulled her jacket closer against the cold misty air.

A very large, tall man opened the door and looked her over, then turned the same close scrutiny to Bailey.

"Barbara Holloway," she said, "and this is Bailey Novell, my driver and a private investigator."

"/You/ can come in," the man said, opening the door wider. "/He/ waits outside."

"Don't be ridiculous. No one can be expected to wait outside in this weather for over an hour. Come along, Bailey." She pushed past the man and Bailey entered with her. "Tell Mrs. Kurtz I'm here," she said.

"Wait here," the man said, and walked down the wide entrance hall toward the rear of the house.

She assumed he was Lon Clampton, six feet plus an inch or two, heavy and muscular, light brown hair, pale blue eyes, and clearly quite angry with her but not willing to heave her out bodily. At least not without direct orders to do so.

Sarah Kurtz returned with him, and again Barbara was struck by her size, five nine or ten, and at least two hundred twenty pounds. That day she was wearing a floor-length, long-sleeved gray silk dress with a black tunic. The outfit did nothing to slim her appearance. She moved easily for one her size. She nodded curtly to Barbara and looked Bailey over.

"Your man can wait in the kitchen with the cook," she said coldly.

"No. Have /your man/ bring a chair out and let him wait here where he can keep an eye on his van. He's paranoid about it." Her voice was as cold as Sarah's, and at her side Bailey nodded with a bland expression.

For a moment no one moved, then Sarah Kurtz motioned to Clampton. "Bring two chairs. Stay with him. Have a look at the van first."

Clampton went out, and Bailey went with him to watch him look over the van. Barbara took off her jacket. They waited silently for the men to return, and again for Clampton to leave and come back with two straight chairs. Barbara hung her jacket on the back of one of them, and Bailey sat down on it, very close to one of the tall glass panes that flanked the entry door.

Sarah Kurtz motioned to Barbara and led the way through the hall. As Elizabeth had said, the house was old-fashioned and gracious, with wide halls, wainscoting in pale polished wood, wide plank floors, high ceilings. Sarah opened a door and they entered an office. There was a conference table, a computer desk and chair and two upholstered chairs. Terry Kurtz was standing near tall sash windows, and seated at the table was another man, who rose when they entered. Terry nodded without speaking.

"My brother Lawrence Diedricks," Sarah said. "This is Barbara Holloway. I'd like to look inside your purse," she said to Barbara. Lawrence looked hesitant, as if he didn't know if he should offer to shake her hand or not. She nodded in his direction and he sat down again. He was tall and heavy, like Sarah, but not as overweight as she was. Barbara put her purse down on the table and opened it for Sarah to have a look, then picked up her briefcase and put it on the table.

The briefcase looked old, a little beat-up, well used, although Bailey had insisted it was new. He had left it in the rain, run over it with his old car, cleaned it up and there it was, fixed. The top was finished with a brass plate with her monogram in raised brass letters. And as soon as she undid the clasp and opened it, an electronic transmitter was activated, or so Bailey had assured her. It would pick up any sound within twenty feet, he had said, and transmit it to receivers within a hundred feet. He also said he had tested it thoroughly, and she had taken his word for it.