Misguided Trust

by Jamie Ott

  Michael let him go. Joe pretended to dust himself off; then he swung at him again.

  Michael said, “Come on, this isn’t helping. I understand you’re angry, but we have more important issues right now.”

  “I don’t have Jesse, your father has him!” Joe shouted.

  “What? We know you’ve got him. He doesn’t belong to you,” Maddie said.

  “I don’t have him,” he insisted. “The reason I called you was to warn you that he would come after you.”

  “Who?” asked Michael.

  “Earl Baldric, of course.”

  “Why would he come after me?”

  “Because he has done something awful, something that he got away with.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Maddie.

  “He killed your real parents, Maddie.”

  Although Maddie heard him, she also didn’t hear him because it was so unbelievable. She simply misunderstood him; that was all.

  “I’m sorry, what?” she said calmly.

  “Earl Baldric killed your real father and your mother. Earl is not your father.”

  “You know, this is really incredible. You are incredible. You ruined my life, you had me kidnapped, all because you’re mother had an affair! GROW UP! She’s an adult! You have no right to take this out on me.”

  “It’s the truth,” he yelled. “Here, see for yourself!” He pulled a long rolled up manila folder from the back pocket of his pants and through it at her; the papers scattered to the ground. “That’s the report that Benny, my investigator friend, pulled up on your father. By the way, he’s dead now. Want to guess who killed him?”

  Michael hurried to gather the contents of the folder, before the wind blew them away.

  “I don’t believe you! After everything you’ve done, how could I?”

  “If you look at the records, you’ll find reports on an investigation of a murder. The man, whom I believe to be your father, was shot in a hotel room, as was your mother.”

  “None of that matters; you have to return my brother.”

  “Jesse is not your brother, he’s my son. I have proof! I came here to help you; to show you who’s really been coming after you; and it’s not me, it’s your father. The proof is all in the file.”

  Then, without waiting for another reply, he turned and walked away.

  Maddie watched him. Tears moistened her eyes.

  “Come on, let’s go inside and sit.”

  Michael guided her by the waist into the wooden restaurant on the beach.

  They sat on tall stools at a tall table. Maddie barely heard the waitress’ voice, when she took their order

  “Are you okay?” asked Michael.

  “No, I’m not okay. My life has been wrecked by my father and my husband, and now I am supposed to believe that my father isn’t my father? And that he killed my mother and my real father?”

  The waitress set down two glasses of beer and two shots of tequila; both which Maddie immediately took down.

  “How about you bring an entire bottle of tequila,” Michael, then, said to the waitress.

  “Are you even going to open it and take a look?”

  Maddie took another shot, and looked at the smooth surface of the folder. She didn’t want to look, but it was already bent and misshapen. Out of the corner, she could see part of a picture of a bed and room. She pulled at the corner. In the bed, a dead woman lay, as did a man on the floor who was also dead. Both had bullet holes in their heads, and lay in pools of blood that looked black in the old photographs.

  Maddie began to gag. She looked away from the photo and took another shot of tequila. Then she took a long sip of beer.

  She opened the flap of the folder. Facing her were standard newspaper clippings from the 1950s, declaring that two bodies were found dead in a hotel without any identification or suspects. Then there was an old police investigation report detailing the male as a French national about 25 years of age. He had checked in with a woman and a baby, whom the hotel clerk assumed to be his wife and child. The clerk only took the man’s name which was common enough in those days.

  Armel Siroq had only flown into the country several hours prior to being shot. He came to get his fiancé and child, his parents were quoted. The end of the report detailed that the police had sent the body back for burial.

  The next report was for Sarah Engelard. The end of the investigation concluded that Sarah had in fact run off with Armel, but unlike Baldric had claimed, Sarah did indeed take her child with her. The motel clerk confirmed it and that is what made Baldric a main suspect. Unfortunately, the neighbors swear they heard the baby crying, and Earl Baldric’s voice, at the time of the murder. He had a solid alibi, so there was nothing else they could do.

  “How do you suppose they could’ve had the case closed? If they really thought that my father was likely to be their killer, why did they not charge him?” she asked Michael.

  “Well, it was another time. They didn’t have the same kind of technology, and frankly, they didn’t look too kindly at infidelity. They only saw a married woman running off with a lover; they probably thought they both deserved it, especially your mother. Women are usually blamed in these scenarios.”

  Maddie hated talking about her mother that way. She didn’t even look like she did in the photos Grandma used to show her.

  The next paper detailed the history of the man she always knew as her father. Baldric Engelard, an impoverished nobleman who graduated from the University in Paris.

  “But I don’t understand why he lied about his school,” said Maddie.

  “When I was a boy, before we came the United States, I remember Earl Baldric leaving in a rush. Only, I don’t know why. Maybe he was in some kind of trouble.”

  “What if you’re right?” said Maddie. “Siroq had only just come out of a coma, from being shot, in Paris. The first thing he did was come here, and then he was murdered. What if my father tried to kill him, when they were in Paris? Because look at these dates: it’s the same year my father came to the U.S.”

  “I don’t’ know,” he took a sip of his beer. “It’d make sense, though. He obviously had something to hide.”

  She continued to shuffle through the papers.

  “Look at this,” said Maddie, pushing a fine sheet of paper toward him.

  “A DNA test.”

  “It looks like Joe was telling the truth: Jesse is his son.”

  “Come on,” Michael said, throwing down a couple twenties.

  “Where to?”

  “Back to your dad’s house. I have a few more questions.”

  Glad to have something to distract her from the file, she jumped up and said “Yes, let’s go.”

  She pounded the rest of her beer. “We should have a long chat with my father, because honestly, I still don’t believe it. How could the man who’s loved me and been there for me my entire life be an impostor? Do you know what this means? He’s already part owner in my grandfather’s company; it means he’s a thief. It’s up to me to get him removed, but I don’t even know how or where to begin.”

  Michael opened the car door for her.

  “I’ll help you. I’m a lawyer, remember?”

  He walked to the driver’s side of the car.

  Maddie broke down into tears. Michael pulled her close, and she cried in his arms as he rocked her, gently. He looked up into the rearview mirror and saw a man, sitting on the wooden fence surrounding hedges. It was Joe, and he looked like he wanted to kill.

  Calling Out

  Chapter 13

  Maddie and Michael left the beach and made their way to her father’s house. Although Maddie didn’t know it, Joe was behind them the entire time. Michael kept looking out of his rearview mirror, wandering what he planned to do. He didn’t tell Maddie, though, because she was upset enough. Whatever he was up to, Michael would handle later.

  Maddie held his hand as she looked out of the window.

  Traffic was light at that time of day. I
t wasn’t long before they pulled up to the gate of Earl’s house. Michael pressed the button and Maddie spoke, with a trembling voice, to the housekeeper. A moment later, the gate electronically opened.

  Being there made Maddie feel like gravity was crushing down on her body.

  “Relax, Maddie. Breathe,” Michael said, rubbing her shoulder.

  “Uh, listen,” Maddie said to the housekeeper. “We’re gonna need some alone time. Why don’t you take the rest the day off?”

  “Okay, thank you. I’ll be in my room.”

  Maddie led Michael into the living room where Earl sat watching television and having a drink.

  “Ahh, you’re back. Did you find Joe?”

  “Where’s Jesse?”asked Michael.

  “I don’t know. Isn’t that what I’ve told you already?”

  “Stop lying to us, Baldric,” Michael hissed. “We know who you are and what you’re capable of.”

  “Is it true? Did you kill my mother and my real father?”

  “Maddie!” he exclaimed and jumped up from his seat. “How dare you! I’ve had enough of you, two. Now, get out.”

  He motioned at the hall that led to the door.

  “We aren’t going anywhere until you tell us where the baby is. We saw the proof, and we know Jesse isn’t yours. The question is: Have you known all along that he wasn’t yours?” asked Michael.

  “I told you; I never saw a DNA test.”

  “Fine! If you’re not going to tell us the truth, then I’ll find out for myself.” Michael turned and was about to walk through the house.

  Baldric ran at him. Michael instinctively knew he was behind him; he spun around and punched him to the ground. The earl was on his knees gasping and Michael pulled out his gun and said, “We’re gonna do this the hard way.”

  “Michael, what are you doing? He’s still my dad!”

  “Maddie, are you serious? He killed your parents, both of them.”

  “Get up,” Maddie said.

  Michael pointed him back into the living room, with Maddie in tow.

  “Now, Dad, just answer our questions.”

  “Sit down,” Michael said, indicating a small chair he’d placed in the middle of the room.

  Earl Baldric cursed both Maddie and Michael under his breath.

  “Now, Maddie, go inspect the rest of the house. Make sure Jesse isn’t here.”

  “Okay,” she replied, and took off down the hall.

  “He’s not here,” she told him twenty minutes later.

  “Maddie, are you really gonna let him do this to me up and not even protest? I’m your father! I took care of you!”

  “I’m not convinced that you did so out of the charity of your heart. All you’ve done is lie. Why did you tell me you went to Cambridge, when you went to La Sorbonne?”

  “What? I didn’t lie. I am English.”

  “This says you came to the United States from Paris,” Michael held up the file Joe had given them. “Joe’s investigator has provided proof that you went to college in Paris and with Michael’s father; that you emigrated from there, not from England.”

  “Ah, Michael! You’re funny!” Earl laughed and smiled widely. “You really think you’ve got me, don’t you? It’s alright. You know, Joe thought he had me, too. But I don’t owe either of you an explanation. Now, if you’re going to call the police on me, and try to put me away, then please, let’s get it over with.”

  “Dad, I don’t want you to go to jail; I want the truth!”

  “Come on Baldric, I was 12 years old. I remember things that my father said about you.”

  “Yes, well your father was no saint either!” Baldric’s temper was starting to rise.

  “Whatever! Where’s Jesse?” asked Maddie.

  “Well, hold on, now,” said Baldric. “You want the truth and I am about to give it to you.”

  He fidgeted in his seat and said, “But first, can you pour me a drink? It’s gonna be a long one.”

  Maddie made him his usual godfather on ice. When he had it in hand, he took a long sip and sighed.

  “Well,” he began, “the truth is I’m English, but only by way of my father and by birth. For the first few years of my life, I was raised in an elegant manor in Sussex. My childhood was typical: my mother would be homemaking and my father would be off at work in the family businesses. He was, as you know, impoverished and the last in a line of a wealthy and highly influential family.

  Our family made its money through acquisition of many acres of land which, at one point, was a commodity as valuable as gold. The Engelards of centuries past let many acres of land to the government and the upper class looking for short lived vacations. The government would use the land for training of the military or to house important persons. The upper class would pay ridiculous amounts of money for a custom time share with all the amenities of the time to make a person feel pampered.

  This was a few hundred years ago. My family didn’t really become influential until my long removed Uncle Daniel found gold on his property in the 1700s. It was then that our family rose in society by making loans to those in good business, which automatically gave our family a foothold in much of England’s economy.

  Our family hired goldsmiths to fashion jewelry for a chain of stores we opened across the United Kingdom. Daniel would even send personalized gifts to people from whom the Engelards wanted favor. At one point, our family funded the British government during its recession back in the mid 1800s, and that is when we got our titles.

  Anyway, by the time it got down to my father, the family fortune was nothing more than a few old fashioned shops that sold unremarkable jewelry it had manufactured abroad, in America. No longer did they use gold from our property, as it had been long depleted. Or, perhaps not entirely depleted, so much as it was sparse. Through bad decision making, many of the footholds our family held once were lost. Then there was the American depression of the ‘30s that put the final crunch on our finances. After which, all that was really left was our mink factory in Paris. It was the only business that survived lucratively and my father decided we should move there so he could pursue expansion.

  We, at first, moved in with my mother’s family but it wasn’t long before they, meaning her mother, drove my father crazy. My grandmother was a French society woman whose father bought her way to entitlement. She was dead against her marrying my father, and from the moment they arrived, she strived to make her feelings about him obvious. Later, she lost everything when the Germans invaded.

  Fortunately, my father still had the one factory that kept us afloat for many years, even after the war. Once he had the upper hand in the family, it gave him great pleasure to send his mother in law off to live with her husband in a retirement community. Next, he sent me off to school, where I met Anton and was later joined by my cousin, Sean. Things were good until people started to rebel the use of furs.

  Times were changing. My father was incapable of adjusting. His failures forced him into an early retirement while I was still enrolled at the academy. For a few years, he was weighed down with guilt and a silly notion that he was the one responsible for the failure of his family’s last great venture. It didn’t take long for him to find the bottle and cling to it for many years, which caused the premature end to his life.”

  After Baldric told his story, he went quiet and looked down at the ground. Maddie and Michael stared at him for a few moments without saying anything. Maddie got up to refresh her drink and her father held out his glass to her, and she did the same for him.

  Michael soon followed, refreshing his drink, and then returned to his seat then asked, “After my father moved out of the mansion, you hardly spoke. Why is that?”

  “Your father thought he was better than us, is why. He always thought that Sean and I were no good. I got sick of him always dampening our fun. It’s because of me that we were able to make new lives for ourselves. Anton was ungrateful. That’s why I told him; it was better that we went our separate ways, so t
hat we’d stop fighting. I’ll never understand why, when Sean and I were making fortunes, your father chose to just barely get by.”

  “So why didn’t I ever hear you speak of Sean or Anton? Why did I never know that they were your friend and family?” asked Maddie.

  “My business is none of yours!” he said spitefully.

  “I’ve gone through my whole life thinking that you were someone else, completely. Why is that? Do you have something to hide? Did you kill my parents?”

  “No, I have nothing to hide. No, I didn’t kill your parents. Your tramp-mother, ran off on me, and left you to me! I didn’t tell you because your grandmother made me promise not to. She didn’t want to hurt you!”

  CRASH!

  Maddie dropped her glass; Michael jumped and pointed his gun at the empty hall. Then Joe suddenly appeared.

  “Joe, what are you doing here?” asked Maddie.

  “I’ve been watching you, all, and I’m sick of pussy footing around.”

  Joe ran at Earl Baldric and punched him, repeatedly, in the jaw. Maddie shrieked over and over, telling him to stop. But Joe didn’t listen; he yanked a cord out the wall and tied Earl Baldric’s arms back together.

  Earl slumped, completely blacked out, in his chair. Blood flowed from his swelling face. Michael got a glass of water and splashed Earl’s face. Groggily, he came to.

  “Alright, you maggot, I’ve been listening to this nonsense for almost an hour now. I’m fed up. You should be scared, especially after the ordeal you have put me through. I’m only giving you one chance to tell me what I want to know. If you play ball with me, I’ll walk out and you’ll never see me again. Don’t play ball, and I’ll do to you what you did to my mother in law.”

  “Wait, what?” asked Maddie. “Are you implying he killed Anna?”

  But Joe ignored her. “Where’s Jesse?” he asked Earl Baldric. When he didn’t answer, Joe started punching him in the face again.

  “Joe, stop it!” Maddie screamed.

  “Where’s my son! Where is he?” he shouted over and over. “I’ll beat you to death!”

  Michael pulled Joe back, saying, “Give him a chance to answer!”