I read all of this and was shocked. But on the other hand, at this point in Jennifer's case, I had just about decided that nothing would surprise me ever again. Both were in love with the same man, and both were destroyed because that man had died. Now here was one of them reaching out to me in a moment that had to have been a low ebb in her life, but even so, she sounded like she had it together. Elise deserved an answer. So I wrote her the following:
Elise, it is very kind of you to be honest with me, and I feel obligated to respond. First, I'm a very happily married man and very committed to my wife. I would never betray her, no matter what my feelings for another person might be. I say this because I have learned to be distrustful of feelings. Our emotions could lead us around by the nose if we allowed them. But I do not allow them. I have said words and I have taken vows, and I have made commitments. Those are lines that can never be crossed either by an outsider or me. So, I must respectfully decline your invitation to engage with you. Sincerely, Michael Gresham.
47
Michael
I sent the email and assumed that would be the end of the matter.
However, later that night, my computer chimed in with another email. I thought it best to look right then and there, so I left Verona in the family room and took my laptop into my office where I could read in private.
I shuddered when I opened my computer because there was another email from Elise. This was troubling, and I was ready for anything as I started reading.
Michael, darling, you can say whatever you wish, but that doesn't change the fact that I cannot get you out of my mind. You are the man for me. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. And I will wait. I'm very good at waiting. If anything ever happens between you and your wife, I will be there. I fear for your wife. I'm the type of person who can lose control and do bad things. I will try not to, and I will try to honor your wife. But if something happens to her, please remember that you were given a chance to avoid that. It would be best if you had not turned me down. Sincerely, Elise.
To say that I was shocked would be the total understatement of the month. I took the email and forwarded it to Frank Wilder. I asked him to please contact his client immediately and tell her to back off. I also told him that I would not abide threats on my wife's life. That serious trouble could come her way if she didn't withdraw what she had said.
I then heard back from Wilder, and he wanted to know whether the serious trouble I was referring to was a threat I was making against his client.
I told him that he could take it in any way he wished, but I would not allow his client to threaten my wife. I told him that I was willing to go to any length to put an end to that kind of nonsense.
By the time we finished exchanging emails, he knew I was not going to back down. I expected him to contact his client and tell her to leave my wife and me alone.
Then he told me about Jennifer and his cell phone and her text to his wife. He had nearly been kicked out of his house over it. He demanded I return his cell phone. I said I would try, but no promises.
We then left it at that for the night. I expected to hear no more.
48
Frank
The wives had met at Bar Hemingway in Paris, and Frank Wilder was finding it difficult to contact Elise.
His paralegal was sitting across from him in his office, a woman named Lana, who had been with him for fifteen years. She looked worried and was nervously fingering her ink pen as she awaited orders from her boss.
"Now tell me again—you tried her numbers, cell and home phone, how many times?
"I have it written down that I've tried her cell phone eleven times just today and her home phone four times. She doesn't answer, and it doesn't go to voicemail on either one. Why it wouldn't go to voicemail is beyond me."
"Tell you what we’re going to do. Let's have you contact a private security firm in Paris and have them stake out her home on rue Dumont. Surely, they will be able to contact her at her work, if not at home. I mean, she has her daughter, and somebody has to be coming and going to take care of her while Elise is away at work. And you said you contacted LVP Partners how many times?"
"I've called her office, I can't tell you how many times. I've also talked to her supervisor, a man by the name of Rafael Duchesne. Mr. Duchesne told me just this morning that she hasn't been in now in seven days, and they’ve been trying to get hold of her. He wanted to know what we wanted to do, and I told him I would run it past you and then get back to him. Is it okay if I tell him about the private investigators?"
"Sure, it's no secret that we’re using someone to help us locate her. I'm wondering, too--do we know the names of any other family members that we can turn over to the PIs?"
"I know that her mother was helping out with the little girl. But I never got the mother's name."
"That's your mistake, Lana. Always, always get the names of other family members and their numbers to contact our clients in an emergency. Haven't we discussed this before?"
Lana ignored him, saying, "I think it's time to contact Michael Gresham and see whether he has heard anything about her from his end. Do I have your permission?"
Wilder waved his hand, “Sure, sure, be my guest. I'm sure Gresham hasn't heard anything, but we can at least alert him."
“And the conservator has taken over. The house is set for auction at the end of the month. So we have some good news for Elise.”
The meeting broke up, and Lana returned to her cubicle. She dialed the number for Michael Gresham and waited.
"Hello? This is Michael Gresham. My secretary said it's Lana?"
"Yes, Mr. Gresham, it's Lana from Frank Wilder's office. We haven't been able to contact Elise Ipswich for several days now, and we're wondering whether you've heard anything about her coming and going anyplace?"
"Two inappropriate emails. As far as I know, she's back in Paris and back at work and back with her little girl. I forwarded her strange emails to Frank. Frank called and said he had seen them and for me to wait for him to get back to me. Did Elise tell you about taking a trip out of town or going away on business?"
"No, she didn't. We’ve checked her home--I can't tell you how many times, and we’ve checked her office. Right now, we’re in the process of hiring someone to go by her house and look for her."
"Well, if we hear anything, I'll call you, Lana. Sorry we can't help more."
The line went dead, and Lana turned her attention to hiring private investigators in Paris.
The hunt was on.
49
Michael
The first text arrived on my phone Friday night after the end of a long week—but a good one, one without Jennifer.
The text sender was Elise, and the text told me that her husband Joe had raved on at times about the sexuality of his wife, Jennifer.
Elise suggested that I, Michael Gresham, might like to "taste" that.
At first, I was stunned that Elise would send me any such thing. But then I began considering the circumstances. Elise was missing, and Marcel was now on his way back to the States. Marcel told me he had called Elise’s mother, who said to him that her daughter had abruptly moved away. A recent relationship with a man had all but destroyed her, so she left Çidde with her for a few weeks while Elise started all over. She said that she didn't want to visit with any family just then but would contact her when she got settled. I asked Marcel how the mother knew these things, and he said she had received an email from Elise.
While I was pondering these things, I received a phone call from Frank Wilder. I took the call, fully expecting that he had located Elise.
"Hey, Frank, Michael Gresham here," I said. "How can I help?"
"Gresham, there's something odd as hell going on. I just received a text from Elise in which she told me about the sexual abilities of your client, Jennifer Ipswich. I'm stunned. Two things. First, has Jennifer been in touch with Elise that you know of? Second, have you heard anything from Elise?"
"The seco
nd question first—yes, I received a text from Elise. She said that I might wish to sample Jennifer’s sexual prowess. At first, I was stunned, but now that I've heard from you, something is going on that someone needs to find out about. As to your first question, no, Jennifer has not been in touch with Elise that I know of. I'm sure if they had been in touch, Jennifer would've let me know that. Sorry, I can't help you with that one. I'm just wondering, thinking out loud here, has Elise ever said to you she was having problems with anyone? Has she ever complained of being followed? Or been fearful someone was after her?"
"Never. This is a woman who lives a very quiet life and doesn't get involved in things where there might be a downside like you're talking about. I've dispatched investigators in Paris to check out her flat and employer, but they've come back empty-handed. Nobody knows anything. She's been terminated from her job, and her supervisor told me they've already filled her position. She won't be welcome back there, even if she does surface. Well, Gresham, thanks for the feedback. I trust that if you hear anything, you’ll let me know?"
"Of course, I will. I'm just wondering where this leaves us with the wrapping up of your lawsuit."
"I've heard nothing. I'm preparing my final report for the court and will have something for you by the end of the month after the house sale. Well, please stay in touch, Gresham."
I said I would, and we ended the call.
I returned to work on another case. It wasn't fifteen minutes later that Wilder called me again. This time he was calling to say he had received a tearful phone call from Elise's mother.
The woman had received an email from Elise stating she needed money from the house sale. She had told her mother how to send the money so it would get to her. Her mother had called Wilder, wanting to know whether he thought she should send the funds.
Wilder again asked me whether or not I had talked to Jennifer and whether or not she knew anything about all of this. I told him that I was waiting on a return call from Jennifer. But, as far as I knew, she was back to work in her medical practice and very busy. I told him I would call him back as soon as I heard from her and give him an update.
It was just after noon when Jennifer returned my call.
"Jennifer, I'm calling because Frank Wilder and I have been receiving very strange texts from Elise. I'm wondering whether you've received any such texts?"
"Why, no, Michael, I haven't heard a thing. Last I knew, she was getting ready to go back to work. We had it all worked out and I tried to settle with her but the check had to be stopped because she still wanted half of everything. You told me that yourself when I got back.”
It was true. Wilder had filed a motion seeking to set aside the agreement signed by Elise for the two million. It turned out she was now after that and half of everything else as well.
“All right. Well, if you two talk again, I need to know.”
“I’ll call. Sorry I can't help."
I called Wilder back and told him what Jennifer had told me. We both agreed to keep each other updated if there was any further contact.
So that's how we left it then.
50
Michael
At home that night, I was balancing the laptop on my knees, reading email, and Verona was watching a movie on HBO. We jumped to our feet, and Verona screamed when the sliding door window leading out to the pool suddenly shattered. A red brick had impacted the glass and crashed into our family room.
The outdoor security lights blinked on.
I was immediately outside with a flashlight kept by the door. I stopped and listened for the sound of someone running, but hearing nothing, I switched on the light and walked through the back gate to check the alleyway.
There was no one, and I didn’t hear the sound of anyone making a getaway. By the time I returned inside, Verona was getting off her cell phone, having just dialed 911. “The police are on the way,” she said.”
I nodded and then noticed the brick had a band of clear tape running around it. I gingerly stepped through the broken glass and picked up the brick and turned it over. A message was held in place by the tape:
You’ve been very lucky so far because you’ve ignored me in favor of that tramp you’re married to. Have you asked her about Sam Langley, the real estate agent who comes to your house while you’re away, Mr. Gresham? Haha, your secret friend.
I’d never seen anything like that before. The note was a printout, of course, and I was careful not to smudge its surface if fingerprints could be lifted.
I called Marcel, and he headed our way. I wanted to make sure he took the brick for forensic analysis by our team rather than the police. Marcel would get it done much faster and more thoroughly than the Evanston Police Department.
Sure enough, Marcel arrived at our house before the 911 responders. I handed him the brick and explained what had happened. He took the brick out to his truck and locked it inside the glove compartment. He took my flashlight and then headed for the gate and disappeared into the alley.
The police arrived about five minutes later. Two officers dressed in blue. One of them, a black woman, began questioning me and taking my report, while the other woman, a white woman, went outback. I cautioned her that Marcel was out there already and to call out his name.
I could hear her, moments later, calling for him, and then I could see her flashlight beam sweeping around. The officer with me asked about the shattered glass, and I told her about the brick. I told her that I had turned it over to my investigator. I was a lawyer and wanted my forensic team to study it before turning it over to the police. The police officer looked perplexed. Then she said, “You know you’re fouling up the chain of custody by turning it over to a third party, don’t you?”
“I realize that. But for my purposes, I must get to the bottom of any fingerprints immediately.”
“What, you've access to the fingerprint database?”
“I’d rather not say,” I told her.
She shrugged but backed off. “All right, have it your way. But be warned, it will never make it into evidence at a criminal trial now that it’s been handled by non-police personnel.”
“I know that, and I appreciate your concern. But we’re fine here.”
51
Michael
The next afternoon, Marcel and I met to discuss the findings of our forensic team. The brick was a standard construction-grade brick without any identifying characteristics and was therefore impossible to trace.
3M made the clear plastic tape, and the paper note appeared to have been printed off of a Hewlett-Packard printer. All printers have built-in identifying characteristics by agreement among the manufacturers, so their machines can be easily identified for cases such as ours.
The note contained several fingerprints, all smudged and therefore not usable. Of course, we saved the note so that we might, at some point, be able to match it up to the printer. Likewise, we saved the tape since the ends were serrated as it had been cut from its roll. There was always a chance we could match the serrations between the tape and the dispenser it had come from.
We decided to attempt to entrap the person who had the most to lose by Elise’s being alive. That, of course, would be Jennifer. We discussed how we might approach her and finally decided we would play dumb as if we didn’t know that Elise had gone missing.
I dialed Jennifer’s number at her medical office, identified myself to the receptionist as Jennifer’s lawyer, and told her I needed to speak with Jennifer immediately. Sure enough, within three minutes, Jennifer came on the line.
“Michael, is that you? Is there something wrong?”
“It is me, and thank you for taking my call. Why I’m calling is because we’ve been doing some looking around and have all but decided your husband did not die accidentally.”
“What? Please say that again!”
“That’s right. We have reason to believe that Joe was poisoned.”
“What do you blame this on? Is there some new evidence I don’
t know about?”
“Marcel inspected Elise’s home in Paris. He came away believing that she had something to do with Joe’s death. For one thing, as you know, she has been hurting for money. We believe there is a French life insurance policy on Joe that no one knew about until Marcel visited her flat.”
“That’s fantastic! Please tell me what else.”
“Well, it’s a short leap in logic, given her dire circumstances, that she would’ve wanted to cash in that life insurance policy once she found out the truth about Joe.”
“What truth?”
“That he was married already.”
“Are you telling me she didn’t know that when she married Joe? Oh, my God, what a shock to her. Well then, it would only make sense she would poison Joe. So, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need to get more evidence against her. I want to build a case so airtight that I can put her away for life. If we can do that, then you keep everything. Her claim for any of Joe’s property will go away based on the fact that she killed him. She would no longer have the right to inherit or make any other claims based on the marriage.”
“In other words, the property would be all mine?” she said in all innocence.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. If we can make this case against her and she is no longer a problem in your private financial affairs, you win. It’s that simple.”
“All right, tell me how I can help.”
“It would be terrific if you might email her and see if you can get her to say something negative about Joe. That would at least be a start. Can you do that?”
“Yes, I do have her email from that time she emailed all of us. I’ll try that and see what I can come up with. And thank you, Michael. This is almost too good to be true.”
Girl, Under Oath (Michael Gresham Series) Page 16