“So he was shot by someone who could get close enough to shoot him in the chest and he didn’t get up. Was he drugged?”
“There was alcohol in his bloodstream, but he was apparently awake. Reading. The blood spatter indicated the book was semi open. As if he was holding his place.”
“So it was someone he knew,” I said.
“How do you know that?” Eric asked, coming back in and depositing cheese on the plate.
“You don’t hold your place in your book and remain seated unless you know the person and you expect the conversation to be brief. And the police think the person in the room was you,” I said.
“Sully, if I didn’t know better, I’d think it was Eric,” Gus said. “He certainly had motive.”
“What motive?” Eric and I asked at the same time.
“Apparently Peter had a new will drawn up a couple of weeks ago,” Gus said. “Did you know he was going to do that, Eric?”
“He was always threatening to change his will. We’d had an argument. I told him to go ahead.”
“Rumor has it that he cut you off without a cent,” Gus said quietly.
“You didn’t do the will?” I asked.
“No, Peter used his former lawyer for that. The guy is retired but still does special requests.”
“Freddy Sands?”
“You know him?”
“He was friends with my dad.”
“Ah, the Sullivan connection. The reading is scheduled for Wednesday. Until then it’s all speculation.”
“If the will cuts Eric off … ”
“It could be the nail in his coffin,” Gus said. I winced. “Sorry, bad phrasing.”
“Great. So that gives you two days to figure out who.” I took a sip of wine and pondered the cracker and cheese that Eric handed me.
“Gives us. You,” Gus said. I went to interrupt but he stopped me. “Sully, we both know, Eric goes to trial, I’m his guy. He needs help getting out of a jam, you’re a better fit for the job.”
“Gus, I haven’t done anything like this for a long time.”
“Your friend is up the creek. Help him out. Please. For his sake. For your sake. For my sake. Please.”
After being asked so nicely, how could I refuse? Besides, I was more curious than ever. Curiosity drove me. It had made me a good cop. It also didn’t allow me to let go even when it was politically expedient to do so. Curiosity also was fueling my increasing love for theater. I’d read a play and wonder how we were going to pull it off. Usually, that journey was a joy. This time, not so much.
From the sound of it, the killer really had to be someone in the family. I knew them all to varying degrees, from very well to not well at all. Still, I had a hard time picturing any one of them as a cold-blooded murderer. It would have to be someone pretty cold-blooded to kill a man while he was sitting in a chair reading.
“Gus, did you get some information from Jack Megan? I went to see him today, and he said he’d released a report to you.”
“Yes, I got the records. At Peter’s request.”
“Peter?”
“Sometime early this summer, Peter discovered that someone was accessing some private accounts using secured passwords on unknown computers. He traced the passwords back to Emma.”
“How?”
“To say that Peter Whitehall was a careful man is like saying the Grand Canyon is a pretty good-sized hole. Peter had multiple layers of security wrapped around his businesses. Even his most trusted partners only had limited access, defined by Peter. He used a complicated password system.”
“That’s an understatement,” Eric said. “He made us all change our passwords once a month. He also shut off access to different bits of information on a whim.”
“Did that drive you crazy?” I asked.
“I had my own computer and a private email. But the family business was the family business. I was used to it. It’s all I know.”
“From what I understand, every user had his or her own password,” Gus said. “No one except Peter had complete access to everything. Peter tracked all of the user activity, and he had an inventory of computers. So when ‘Emma’ started requesting information on certain accounts, but from an unfamiliar computer, Peter grew suspicious.”
“Did he confront her?”
“Confront, no. But he asked her what the hell was going on, and she told him she’d given Jack access to some of her accounts so he could track a few things, see if he could get proof that Terry was having an affair. She told Peter you’d recommended Jack.”
“He was probably thrilled about that,” I said. “Eric, did you know about any of this?”
“I knew about all of it,” he said. “Emma and I tell each other everything. For what it’s worth, I was willing to give Jack my logins too.”
“In a roundabout way, you’re responsible for my going to work for the family, Sully,” Gus said.
“How?”
“Peter found out we’d been married and went on a fishing expedition to find out more about you,” Gus said. “He wasn’t that obvious. He pretended that he was going to ask me some business questions. It was an interesting meeting.”
“What did he think? That I was setting Emma up by referring her to Jack?”
“He was a paranoid guy. Jack had talked Emma into breaching security. Peter knew she was vulnerable, and he wanted to do some damage control. Simply put, he didn’t understand why you would help Emma without expecting something in return.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“He thought that your father’s animosity toward him had been passed down.”
“The family feud,” Eric said. He reached over to give me a fist bump. I returned it, and we both opened our hands afterwards. It was a silly ritual we’d created over the past few years, exploding the family history.
“I don’t even know the reason for their feud. And I didn’t want to ask, just in case,” I said.
“In case it made your father look bad?” Gus asked.
“Maybe? Toward the end, after my mother and Emily had both passed, it didn’t seem as important.”
“Fair enough. I asked Peter what the feud was about.” Eric and I both stared at Gus. “Why do you both look so surprised?” he asked.
Eric and I looked at each other, but neither of us spoke. It was hard to explain. Our fathers’ falling-out had happened when we were teenagers. Though our mothers kept in touch, our visits to the Anchorage were over. There was a rapprochement of sorts when Eric’s mother got sick, but it didn’t last, particularly when Peter married Brooke so soon afterward. Eric and I had lived under the shadow of “the feud” for so long that we were afraid to discover its roots, afraid that it might contaminate our generation as well.
“You both look like scared kids.” Gus took a sip of his wine before he continued. He’d always loved drama. “Eric, your father and this man, Larry Colfer, used to run in the same business circles. Peter’s was a much bigger company, and for a lot of years he saw the Colfer Consulting Co-Op as more of a nuisance than a threat. Then Larry Colfer became more innovative and started using third-party software. This is back when using computers rather than paper was fairly radical. Anyway, Colfer built a whole new approach based on the software, and started innovating with using a cloud-based system that made it available to companies at a much lower cost. Peter paid attention, took notice, and bought the software company out. Then he removed the rights to the software from Colfer and co-opted his ideas.”
“How could he do that? Didn’t Colfer have some sort of agreement with the company?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t have mattered to Dad,” Eric said. “If it was a license, he would have revoked it. If it suited his purposes, he would have put the software company out of business and hired another company to develop the same thing.”
“Did Larry
Colfer sue?” I asked.
“Sure, but he couldn’t afford to wait out the litigation,” Gus said. “He’d put himself out on a financial limb, and when it broke, he lost his business.”
“What a bastard,” I said. I immediately regretted making the remark. Not because of what I’d said but because the timing was tough, considering the man had just died and his son was here in the room.
“You have no idea,” Eric said. “So where does Sully’s dad come in?”
“Bryan and Larry Colfer were golfing buddies. Bryan had even asked Peter to give Larry a break.”
“That couldn’t have been easy for my dad.” My father disliked asking anyone for a favor.
“I can’t imagine it was,” Gus agreed. “Anyway, it got worse. Larry Colfer committed suicide. Bryan blamed Peter for Colfer’s death, and made no bones about it to anyone who’d listen. Bryan wasn’t a power player, but a lot of people thought highly of him, and Peter began to feel a distinct chill in certain circles around here. And so it began.”
“At least someone’s death is enough to explain the feud,” I said. “I was afraid that it was over cheating at bridge or something.”
“From what I understand, even that could have been enough. Your father never liked Peter. I don’t think he thought a lot of consulting as a way to make a living.”
I remembered well what my father thought of Peter’s line of work, particularly when he found out how much Peter’s company charged per hour. Since I’d already called Peter a bastard, and Larry Colfer was obviously not on the suspect list, I changed the subject.
“Eric, did you speak to Harry?” I asked.
“Texted. He said to tell you that Dimitri announced that Stewart Tracy will be coming in later tonight.”
“Good.” I checked my phone and noticed a few texts had come in, two from Stewart. My fingers flew as I responded. “Actually, I need to go and get him at the train station.”
“Is he staying … ” Eric let it hang.
“He’s staying at the Wrights’ condo. They lent it to us for Patrick, but he didn’t like it. No room service.”
Eric smirked at me, and I shook my head. Eric loved to tease me about Stewart, but now wasn’t the time. I didn’t look at Gus.
“I told Harry that I’d go over and watch rehearsal,” Eric said. “I called a cab to take me over. Harry said it’s going to be a long night, and I want to see him.”
“Did he say why it was going to be a long night?”
“They took their dinner break early and they’re way behind.”
Eric hadn’t finished the sentence before I was on the phone to Dimitri’s cell. Which he didn’t answer, of course. I called Connie next. She didn’t answer either, so I called again and texted them both. And called again. She never turned her cell phone off, letting it vibrate during rehearsals,in case her kids needed to get in touch. After the eighth try, she finally picked up.
“About damned time, Connie. What the hell is going on?” I stood up and walked over to the window. My back was to Gus and Eric. The view did what it always did: washed over me. Unlike normal, though, it wasn’t calming my nerves today. Too many reasons for them to be frayed.
“The shit hit the fan again with Dimitri and Patrick, so I called a dinner break to cool everyone down. It worked, for the most part. We’re back now, and we’re going to finish teching Act One if it kills us all. Which it might.” Stage managers can be as dramatic as actors. Maybe it’s because they belong to the same union.
“Do you need me?” I asked.
“God, no. Sorry, Sully, I didn’t mean it to sound like that. Truth is, we’ve sort of used you as the ‘don’t make me call Sully’ threat. You shouldn’t come down until we need you to crack some heads. I’ll call you later and fill you in, okay?”
“Okay, but keep an eye on the time. We’ve got a lot of union actors in this show, and I’d love to avoid overtime if we can.”
“I’m on top of it.”
“Call me later.” I ended the call and turned around.
“Trouble?” Gus sounded amused, which annoyed me.
“Yes, there’s trouble. Where’s Eric?”
“He went down to wait for his ride.” Gus still had a grin on his face.
“What’s so funny?” I admit I sounded a little irritable.
“I don’t know. You, I guess.”
“Me?”
“I’ve seen you do that routine before of calling and texting someone over and over until they pick up. But you were contacting an informant or a cop or someone important. Now it’s about actors. It seems odd.”
I took a long, deep breath and looked directly into Gus’s gray eyes. This time my toes didn’t curl. “If we’re going to work together, we need to get one thing straight. My new life may not seem as significant to you as my old life, but it is to me. I’m not defending truth, justice, and the American way, but I am doing important work.”
“I think it’s great that you’ve found a new life. But you can’t really expect me to believe that you think it’s as vital as what you were doing before.”
“Let’s drop it.” I’d become a vocal arts advocate these past three years and deeply understood the importance of the arts in our society. I could have argued this point easily, but I didn’t want to complicate our relationship. “What matters is helping Eric out of this mess.”
“I’m sorry if—”
“So Peter called you to check me out?”
Gus recognized my tone and wisely changed the subject. “Okay, where were we? You and Emma spoke last spring about hiring a PI?” I nodded. “I guess it took Emma a while to work up the courage to talk to Jack,” Gus went on. “She met with him around Memorial Day. Jack put a tail on Terry, and asked to see Terry and Emma’s financial records.”
“Pretty standard stuff.” I didn’t let on that I had already heard this from Jack.
“Very standard. Except that all their financials are tied up with the company. Peter held tight rein on them all. Everyone had generous allowances, but all of the houses and cars were part of the business and used to leverage investments. Peter thought that most expenses were client or company related in one way or another, so all expenses were filtered through the company.”
“Is that legal?”
“Sure. Remember, this is a privately owned business, Sully. And Peter is, was, the head of it. He set the rules.”
“That must have been tough.” Gus and I had kept our own bank accounts while we were married. I couldn’t imagine having him scrutinizing how many trips to Target I made in a week when I didn’t feel like justifying them. “No privacy.”
“I hear you. But Emma, Terry, Eric, they all seemed on board. There was definitely a big brother aspect, but Peter never passed judgment, or so he said.”
“In other words, Terry could spend a fortune on Internet porn, and Peter wouldn’t have minded.”
“Peter would probably have figured out a way to bill it to a client. At least that’s the impression I got.”
“Hard to believe.”
“I agree. But we’re getting off track. When Peter found out that Emma was using a different computer to look at account activity, he became suspicious. Peter figured out that Emma had hired Jack Megan.”
“What tipped him off?”
“Unknown IP address accessing the network, then a cancelled check from her personal account. Peter confronted Emma, she told him why she hired him, that it was your suggestion. He suggested she fire Jack.”
“Which she did.”
“After a couple more days. Jack hadn’t found anything that showed Terry was cheating, at least not according to the files. Peter decided to bring the investigation in house.”
“That’s where you came in?”
Gus nodded his head. “Sort of. Peter called me, asked for an appointment. Which I agr
eed to, of course.”
I let the “of course” slide, or tried to, but I must have made a face.
“Sully, I work for a firm now. If Peter Whitehall’s going to throw some work our way, I’d be an idiot not to pursue it.” He paused, challenging me to say something.
“Finish the story. We can debate our career turns another time, okay? So Peter meets with you, and … ?”
Gus paused. Our détente was in jeopardy; we both knew it. He gave it a longer life span and continued with his story.
“Peter came in to meet with me. He told me he’d found some discrepancies in his company’s accounting and might need outside legal help. I told him it wasn’t my area, but I could refer him. He cut me off. He told me that the discrepancies had come to light in a roundabout way, partially instigated by you. And he needed to know what your motives were—were you trying to right a wrong for your father, or were you really trying to help Emma when you suggested she hire a private investigator?”
I was seething, but Gus cut me off. “I told him that if you wanted to right a wrong by going after the Whitehall family, you wouldn’t sneak around. He’d know you were coming. I told him I thought you probably really wanted to help Emma but didn’t want to do the legwork yourself.”
“Right on all counts,” I said.
“We talked for a while, and he left. He called me a few days later and put me on a retainer. He gave me some work to do on this new Century Project idea. That kept me busy for a while. Huge project, another story for another time. He asked that I get the files from Jack, which I did, after getting Emma to sign a release. Apparently Jack’s investigation triggered something for Peter, and he started exploring different paths on his own. We spoke, and it was clear something was bothering him. I offered to help, but he declined. Said he wanted me to be available once he had his ducks in a row regarding some other matters. I wanted specifics, but he was vague. He told me he was going to email me some files, and also send over hard copies with his notes. He asked that I look them over in preparation. That was a week ago Friday.”
“The day before Peter was killed.”
“Right.”
“Did you get the files?”
A Christmas Peril Page 9