The Victim's Wife

by Dan Decker

  He inserted the key and pushed open the door, stepping back so I could enter.

  When I walked into Max’s office, I took a deep breath and looked around. Max’s office was even bigger than Ronald’s office.

  What is it with these guys and their offices? I wondered.

  It was a corner office with windows on three sides, so it took up a significant portion of the floor.

  This not an office, I thought as I took another step into the vast space, wondering where to start, this is a full suite. There was a door on one side that led to a bathroom. There were several other shut doors. I couldn’t help but wonder if one lead to a bedroom or a kitchen.

  “You know where to find me when you’re ready to look at Mason’s office,” Arnie said, making as if to leave.

  “Do you know where it happened?” I asked, turning back to look at him.

  He nodded over at the front of the desk. “I believe his body was found right there, but I’m not sure. I don’t know the particulars. The only thing I can tell you is I don’t think the office has been disturbed since the police have been here.”

  “Could you—” I started to say until I saw that he had already turned and was walking away.

  He spun, a glare on his face. He quickly wiped it away. Why did he have such open hostility towards me? Was it coming from his boss?

  “Never mind,” I said as amicably as I could.

  They certainly don’t have a great office culture here, do they? I mused.

  Once he had gone, I eased the door shut behind me, wanting a moment to gather my thoughts without anybody watching.

  I went to where they’d found Max’s body. There was indeed a bloodstain on the carpet and several turned over chairs pushed to the side.

  There was one primary splotch of blood and several small ones as if the victim had rolled around on the floor after getting stabbed.

  I imagined Mason stabbing Max multiple times.

  I imagined Mason stepping back, anger on his face, horror starting to crawl over him as he recognized what he had done.

  It was a horrific tragedy, but did Vivian have something to do with it?

  Even though I suspected in my gut that she did, I wanted to think about it as objectively as I could to avoid missing any critical information because it didn’t fit with my theory of the case. A difficult thing to be sure, but hopefully, recognizing my bias meant I was more open to information that contradicted it.

  Max, in my mind, was sitting behind his desk when Mason knocked on his door. I walked around to the far side of Max’s desk, standing right behind the chair while imagining the scene unfold in front of me.

  The door opened and Mason walked in. Max looked up.

  I imagined Max getting angry, jumping to his feet and yelling at Mason as soon as he saw him. Mason started yelling too.

  The two were both so angry they didn’t recognize that they were arguing about two different things.

  The exact polar opposite of what the other believed.

  I imagined Mason entering into the office as he jabbed his finger in an accusatory fashion. Max came around the side of his desk to meet him.

  It was almost unbelievable that both were so angry that they had a hard time listening to the other, but I knew enough about human nature to know that this type of scenario wasn’t just possible, it was probable.

  It was entirely likely that both had talked right past the other, not listening to what they were getting back, letting their anger grow until there was no return.

  If my client was to be believed, Max struck first.

  I stood for several long moments, imagining the scene and trying to guess at the particulars before I finally pulled out my phone.

  I needed to collect any evidence I could.

  I used it to snap pictures of the office, taking shots of anything and everything. There was no way to know what might be useful, so I wanted to have a picture of it all. I started with the bloodstains and worked outward, taking photographs of the desk and everything on top of it.

  I next went to the garbage can, but it had been emptied. I snapped a picture anyway. As I turned away, I noticed that there was a stain on the bottom.

  I reached in a finger and touched it before touching the tip to my tongue.

  It was sugary. It tasted like dried soft drink.

  It appeared Max liked soda.

  During my investigation of the office, I had not spotted a security camera, so I decided to risk opening the desk drawers and taking pictures of everything inside. There wasn’t anything interesting, and if there had been any files, they had already been removed.

  I worked in a circular motion out from the desk, doing a video. After I had done that, I then took pictures of a variety of things, looking at different angles, trying to think about the perspective I’d want to show in the courtroom if and when any of these pictures saw the light of day.

  He had a small refrigerator on a credenza at the back of his office. I popped it open. It was stocked full of Dr Pepper. I snapped some pictures and shut it.

  Now that I had the idea in my mind, the sticky substance on the bottom of the garbage can appeared to be the same.

  It was past lunchtime. I was tempted to snag one of the Dr Peppers—what else were they gonna do with them?—but I refrained.

  Once I was done, I checked my watch and saw that I still had fifteen minutes before my meeting with Vivian.

  Assuming she keeps it, I thought, standing in the middle of the room, trying to soak in everything that I could.

  It was unprecedented that I had gained access to the office so easily. Perhaps Ronald had been telling the truth about being busy, so he had not even thought twice about giving me unfettered access to the murder scene.

  As I left Max’s office, I pulled the door shut and even replaced the caution tape before I went and found Arnie.

  He looked up as I approached and scowled. By the time I was at his desk, he had forced a smile to his face.

  “Did you find anything the police missed?” Arnie asked brusquely.

  “Too early to tell,” I said, giving him my best smile.

  He then showed me to Mason’s office, almost running away as soon as the door was open.

  Of the three executive offices, Mason’s was the smallest, but that was not to say that it was small. It was still more than triple the size of a normal employee’s office. My office could have fit into it twice.

  I glanced at my watch as I pulled the door shut behind me once again.

  Mason’s office was decorated more sensibly than the other two. He had a simpler taste and did not seem as intent on advertising all the cool places he had been or expensive items he had acquired.

  I had not yet checked his ownership in the company, but he certainly could have afforded much nicer office decorations.

  And there was that whole issue of him going to a public defender first, rather than seeking out a regular attorney.

  Perhaps he is not as well off as I assume, or maybe he is just frugal, I thought, remembering how he had borrowed money from Penny to post bail.

  Anonymous benefactor. What was that all about?

  I pulled out my phone, took pictures of everything, and then recorded a quick video. I stopped in front of his desk and looked at Mason’s candy jar. It was full of Snickers candy bars.

  My stomach rumbled. I’m sure he won’t mind if I take one.

  I pulled one out and ate it, putting the wrapper in my pocket to hide the evidence. I slipped a few more into my briefcase. I was hungry.

  Look at me, grand theft.

  There was not much of interest in Mason’s office, so I did not stay long. Before I left, I stood behind Mason’s desk chair and imagined Vivian coming to meet with him.

  I could see her sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

  Vivian.

  Every time I turn around, she pops up. What is her role in all of this?

  Even if Penny had not come to my office, looking to hire
me as a consultant, by this point in the case, I would’ve become suspicious of Vivian. And Ronald.

  I found Arnie and told him that I was done. His eyebrows rose when I asked for directions to Vivian’s office.

  “You can’t just go in there. Vivian still works here.”

  I smiled. “I happen to have an appointment with Vivian. Can you show me the way?”

  Arnie about swallowed his tongue.

  Vivian’s office was also on the fourth floor. As I approached, her receptionist looked up and typed something onto her computer. She appeared to recognize me, even though I had never met her.

  Word of my presence is getting around.

  “I’m here to see Vivian,” I said, staring at the receptionist, curious to know what she was typing on her computer. I fully expected not to make it into Vivian’s office.

  She glanced up at me and back at her computer monitor.

  “Vivian is ready for you,” she said after a pause.

  16

  I could scarcely believe that I had made it inside. I had assumed Vivian had been insincere when she had made an appointment with me and that she would come up with a pretext for not being able to keep it. Perhaps our little exchange down in the lobby had not been merely for show after all.

  Vivian stood when I entered. The receptionist disappeared, pulling the door shut behind her. Vivian walked around from her desk and offered me a handshake and a big smile. As I took her hand, I noticed that it was not the slightest bit moist.

  I was surprised because most are nervous about meeting with an attorney. I had become accustomed to keeping people on the edge of their seats and was taken aback that Vivian was taking my presence so well.

  Vivian did not have an ounce of tension showing on her face, and if anything, she looked more relaxed than when I had seen her down below.

  “Mr. Turner,” Vivian said, motioning at a chair in front of her desk before returning to her own. “I’m so glad you were able to make it. I want to help Mason in any way I can. This has just been one terrible and unfortunate...”

  I was curious about how she was gonna finish the sentence. I almost thought she was gonna say accident.

  “...incident.” She gave a small nod of her head as if she liked her own word choice

  I sat and folded my arms, resisting my desire to pull out my pad of paper to take notes. I was going to keep this casual, trusting my memory. I hoped this wouldn’t be a repeat of my meeting with Ronald.

  “Where would you like to start?” Vivian asked.

  I hesitated because of her friendliness. I had expected Ronald to be more congenial and for Vivian to act the way Ronald had acted.

  She seemed genuinely interested in helping, and for a moment, it was difficult for me to see her as the person who had manipulated my client into killing Max.

  I cocked my head to the side. “Let’s just start at the beginning of the partnership dynamics, at least the partnership as it’s presently formed. How does that sound?”

  Vivian nodded. “A smart place to start since one of my partners killed the other.” She took a deep breath and gave me a coy smile. “How much time do you have?”

  I glanced at my watch. “I don’t have anything scheduled rest the day, so we can take as long as you’d like.” My stomach rumbled. I was glad I’d eaten the Snickers bar. “I guess the question is, how much time do you have?”

  “Touché.” She laughed. It was musical and seemed genuine as well. If I was honest with myself, I was having a hard time not liking her. “Well, I guess I’ve had my words thrown back at me, haven’t I?” She chuckled again. “I suppose that I will start with Frank. Our present partnership, as presently constituted, formed approximately five years ago when Frank bought into the business.”

  “I have some questions about Frank.” I held Vivian’s stare. “At the executive level, you don’t often see much redundancy. Most executives have different skills to complement one another. That does not appear to be the case with Frank. As near as I can tell, he has the same technical capabilities as you, at least according to your bios on the website.”

  Vivian nodded. “Perceptive. You’re correct, but not all the assets the executives bring to the table are specifically related to their abilities. Frank and I do share a certain number, but at the time, he brought something we didn’t have but desperately needed.”

  “A relationship?” I asked.

  “Exactly. He had a connection to one of our biggest customers. They were threatening to leave.”

  “Had?”

  “Yes, he was the grandson of the previous owner of that customer. His grandmother has since sold the company. We were more than happy to have him on board, even if he duplicated some of our executive talents.” She smiled. “Obviously, he has outlived his use in that regard but has proved himself in other ways, so we keep him around.”

  She said this so matter-of-factly that I almost asked if Mason or Max had outlived their usefulness.

  I nodded.

  “Keep going,” Vivian said, “anything I can provide you at all, I’m happy to do so. Mason was one of our founding members. I’m distraught to see him go. We were, of course, prepared to stick by him when all this happened, but when he presented us with an opportunity to let go of a sticky situation, we jumped on it. It was the best thing for the business.”

  I was unsettled by how open she was with me and how much she was trying to put me at ease. If I hadn’t walked in here on my guard, I would have thought that she and I were on our way to becoming friends.

  She had a charisma that was undeniable. It also made me naturally suspicious.

  Not because of anything she had done, but because of my conversation with Penny.

  Am I letting my bias get in the way here?

  “I appreciate your candor,” I said, deciding to call attention to it to show that I recognized the effort she was making. “How were things in the partnership back when Frank joined the company?”

  “Before Frank’s arrival, things had been tense because everybody was nervous about what that big customer would do. Once Frank had secured his place, things got better and ran very well for quite some time. You could ask any of the other partners. We didn’t have much to complain about.

  “The company was growing. There was plenty of money. We’d all given ourselves big raises. Things were good. A lot of times, that’s when the fighting starts. Money makes people’s eyes get big, and they want to do all sorts of different things. That was not usually the case for Meridian Solutions, which was quite remarkable. For as long as I have been here, we have not had many partnership issues, at least not until the last few years.”

  “How would you describe the present-day relationship between Max and Mason prior to the night of Max’s death?” I asked.

  “Contentious, if I were to use one word.” Vivian nodded. “I don’t suppose there’s any getting around that. No amount of sugarcoating will cover up how the two were frequently at each other’s throats. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.”

  “How long were things like this?”

  Vivian leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know, two or three years, maybe?” She shook her head. “It’s challenging to say. All I can tell you is that it had become quite the issue.”

  “Do you know what started the problems between them?” I asked.

  Vivian didn’t speak for a long moment. “I’m not quite sure how to answer that. I have my suspicions, but I believe I should not speculate, particularly since you might take my speculation as fact.”

  “If you want to tell me something off the record, I would be happy to hear it. I will never quote you.”

  Vivian hesitated but then shook her head. “I better not say anything. I believe there were reasons and that there might have even been a falling out, but I can’t say more than that. I was not close to either Mason or Max at that time. I have developed more of a relationship with them over the years, but back then, I really couldn’t say.”

&n
bsp; “No guess as to what it could be about?”

  “You are relentless, Mr. Turner, you know that?”

  I smiled. “You have to be when you’re a defense attorney.”

  “I suppose you do.” Vivian leaned forward. “I heard it had something to do with a woman. That’s all I’ll say. Everything else is just speculation. I don’t want to ruin a dead man’s reputation or soil Mason’s reputation any more than it already is.”

  “A woman?”

  “Mr. Turner, you are trying my patience. You are barking up the wrong tree. As far as I know, she was no longer in the picture for either of them and has not been for several years.”

  “Letting that issue go for the moment,” I said, “when it became apparent that there were issues between them, how did the other partners react?”

  “We talked at times about how to best address it. Max brought a much-needed vision to the company. He was always pushing us to do something more. Mason, on the other hand, can be a bit of a curmudgeon, to put it nicely. Don’t get me wrong. He was the backbone of our partnership in many ways; however, he was a bit of a stickler and could be a downright stubborn mule when he didn’t want to change his mind.”

  “Couldn’t you just vote around Mason if you needed?”

  Vivian smiled. “Mason had fifty-one percent of the management voting rights for the company. He was in a position to block anything the rest of us wanted except for selling the company. That was something where he only had a thirty-five percent say.”

  “That seems like a strange way to set up your company voting structure.”

  “When the other founding partners wanted to sell, and Mason was going to be the last one remaining, he had been adamant on those terms before he would agree to the other partners selling their ownership. It was a bit complicated, and I don’t understand all the dynamics of that time myself. Mason had some leverage over the others based upon the original contractual paperwork. As I said, Mason can be stubborn, and because of it, they had a difficult time convincing him to agree to the deal at all. Once they told him that he would have fifty-one percent of the management voting rights, he finally did.”