Trial by Blood

by William Bernhardt

  Zachary Coleman—Papa to them, apparently—made a grumbling growling sound that called them to attention. He didn’t have to raise his voice. When his lips parted, they all closed their mouths and listened. “This is not an endorsement of anything Mr. Pike is doing or saying. I just want to get this mess over with, and cooperating seemed like the best way to do it. I spoke to Mr. Pike earlier and I don’t believe he’s trying to cheat anyone. Just doing his job.”

  “That job has changed a lot in the past few days,” Phil said, teeth clenched. Ironically, the baby of the family was the largest of them, and it looked like he was still very much grieving for his lost sibling. Muscular. Buzzcut. Apple AirPods Pro. “It’s one thing to humor a con man. Much different to harbor a murderer.”

  Zachary shook his head. “He hasn’t been convicted. Yet.”

  “The police wouldn’t bring charges if they weren’t certain. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Pike?”

  “Absolutely not. Sadly, the number of wrongful convictions in this country is horrifying. That’s why people like Jimmy and me exist.”

  The furnishings, though adequate, were far from plush. Apparently the billionaire did not feel the need to squander his fortune on creature comforts. “I don’t like it, Papa,” Benny said. “There’s more to this than the declaratory judgment suit. This man is helping that upstart kid who killed Harrison.”

  “We don’t know that,” his wife Dolly said, clutching her large bag. Practical shoes, Old Navy suit. Big Mary Poppins purse. Direct, no-nonsense, aggressive. “Not with absolute certainty.”

  “I’m pretty damn certain,” Benny mumbled.

  He needed to get in control of this conversation somehow, or it was not going to be useful. “I understand you’ve all suffered a terrible loss,” he said, raising his hands, as if to metaphorically hold back the teeming hordes. “And I understand people sometimes become angry when they’re grieving.”

  “Are we grieving?” Dolly looked both ways at once. “How about you, Sabrina? Grieving?”

  The daughter glanced up from her phone. T-shirt. Shorts. Flip-flops. “Not me. Couldn’t stand Harrison. Creepy. Always quoting Shakespeare, like that proved he was smarter than everyone else. Half the time I think he just made crap up. And when he talked about chess, it was worse. If he was so great, why did he only play himself? And he was always staring at my breasts.”

  “Really?” Dolly said. “That surprises me. I don’t think women were his principal point of interest.”

  Zachary raised his hand. “Dolly, I won’t have that kind of talk.”

  “Fine, fine.” She paced a bit, then positioned herself behind the sofa.

  The little boy darted around the room, screaming with arms outstretched, pretending to be an airplane. Everyone ignored him, as if this was commonplace. Sabrina, who he believed was the boy’s mother, didn’t even look up from her phone.

  He wasn’t sure whether to direct the discussion with a question or to just let the suspects riff. “Did you know Vanessa Collins?”

  “Oh yes,” Benny said. “How could we not? She and Harrison dated forever.”

  “If you could call it dating,” Dolly added.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Well, I don’t think women were—” She glanced at Zachary. “Anyway.”

  “They were together a long time.”

  “Too long,” Zachary groused. “Now she’s claiming she was his common-law wife. Says she should get his share of my inheritance, since he has no heirs.”

  Hadn’t read that in the pleadings. “Does she have a case?”

  Zachary shrugged. “They did live together for a good long time. But he never married her. I think it was just about sex.”

  Which would be the perfect claim for a palimony suit, though those had fallen out of favor with the courts. “I’ve talked to her. She spoke well of Harrison.”

  “Like a wife about her husband?” Dolly asked. “Or a hooker about her john?”

  “Like someone who genuinely cared about him. Even though he had...eccentricities.”

  “Oh, you mean the kink.” Dolly waved a hand, purse flapping before her. “Whatever. Everyone has something. But his wasn’t women.”

  Jimmy looked at her with astonishment. “You—knew about his...kink?”

  “You think you’re the one who has his ear to the pavement? I don’t miss anything of interest. That was how they met, you know. In her...what’s the term?”

  Benny cut in. “Adult toy shop.”

  “There you go. Sounds much better than Discount Dominatrix Dildo Mall.”

  “Strip mall,” Benny added, winking.

  Dan wondered if he should start taking notes. Vanessa hadn’t said anything about this. “Vanessa Collins has an adult toy shop?”

  “Didn’t mention that during your talk?” Dolly said. “Not much of an interviewer, are you? Do you cross-examine witnesses in court? Or just let them talk and assume it’s all true?”

  “Now wait a minute—”

  “She sold the shop a while back,” Benny interjected. “She needed a side hustle to support herself. You know what teaching pays these days. But it was apparently not as profitable as she’d hoped, and worse, her middle school principal found out and sacked her. That’s when she started stripping.”

  He felt his teeth clench. Vanessa hadn’t mentioned that, either. Could just be gossip—or maybe he did need to push a little harder. “But the relationship lasted a long time.”

  “Yes,” Dolly said, “but at the end of the day, a leopard can’t change its spots, and boys will be boys.”

  Impressive. Three clichés in one sentence. “You think he broke it off...because he wasn’t into women.”

  “I don’t think she would’ve done it. She was a gold-digger.”

  “And by that you mean...?”

  “Like a prostitute. Only smarter.”

  The little boy raced around the room, screaming at the top of his lungs. Everyone ignored him. Phil rolled his eyes but said nothing.

  Jimmy picked up the thread. “Wasn’t Harrison dating someone else? At the time of his death?”

  “Sure,” Dolly said. “Margaret Tully. The theater woman.”

  “The woman who controlled the theater purse strings? The woman who was trying to steer Harrison away from Shakespeare?”

  “I didn’t know that part,” Dolly said, “but God bless her if it’s true. What is this obsession some people have with 400-year-old plays? Maybe try something where people don’t talk in archaic riddles?”

  “I had the idea that Harrison and Margaret were...antagonistic,” Dan said. “That she was using her financial power to control his work.” He didn’t mention the possible connection to Conrad Sweeney. Or the fact that Vanessa said she broke up with Harrison.

  “Is that what the little stripper told you?” Dolly batted her eyelids. “You are gullible, aren’t you?”

  “I had no reason to question—”

  “They were shacking up,” Sabrina said, her tone suggesting she was weary beyond measure. “I saw them at the Sackler Gallery one afternoon. They were close. Holding hands and all that BS. I think she had her tongue in his ear. Gross.”

  Most of the people in the room winced.

  “Of course, that doesn’t mean Margaret wasn’t also trying to take charge of the theater,” Dolly opined. “She is a bit of a puppet master.”

  “And by that you mean...?”

  “Like a prostitute. Only smarter.”

  Phil cut in. “I’m not going to be uppity about strip joints. Men do that stuff. Everyone did it, back when I was in Afghanistan.”

  He did a double take. “You were in Afghanistan?”

  “Two tours of duty. Officer. Bomb squad.”

  Not the typical rich-kid resume. “You did this by choice?”

  “I think we all have an obligation to serve.”

  “He was on track for med school,” Zachary said. “Already got through the first year—the hardest one. But instead of fini
shing, he decided to run off and play hero.”

  “Papa tried to get us all in med school,” Benny said. “Seems to be an obsession with him.”

  “Ossie was the one who could’ve done it,” Zachary said. “He was a smart boy. He could’ve been anything he wanted to be.”

  Zachary’s interest in schooling explained a great deal. Despite his humble origins, everyone in this family spoke like well-educated, well-read, articulate scholars. The upper crust. Zachary clearly wanted to eradicate all traces of his poor black background—and succeeded.

  The toddler darted out from behind Sabrina’s legs. “Mama! How much longer?”

  Sabrina didn’t look at him. “I don’t know. Not much longer. I hope.”

  “I’m bored.”

  “We're all bored, Allen. Being bored is what you have to endure when you’re part of this family.”

  Dolly scowled. “Sabrina!”

  “It’s true. None of you wants to be here. You’re just doing it because—” She glanced at the elderly man in the wheelchair. “Never mind.”

  Zachary swiveled around. “This is a meeting, not a kidnapping. No one has to be here if they’d rather be somewhere else.”

  “Yeah. Right.” She returned her attention to her phone.

  He thought this might be a good time to discuss the civil suit. And break the awkward silence. “May I ask you about Ossie’s claim?”

  “None of us thought he was a member of this family,” Phil explained. “Everything the kid said sounded defensive, as if he were overcompensating for something. Or guilt-ridden. Like he wanted the money but felt bad about the deception. We’d love to think that boy had been returned to us. But he wasn’t.”

  “For once, you’re right, baby brother,” Benny said. “None of us.”

  “Not one,” Dolly added.

  He noticed that Zachary remained silent. “Did you investigate his claim?”

  They all looked at one another silently and somewhat guiltily. He already knew they’d hired Bradley Ellison. What was the big secret? “Come on. You have the resources. What did you do? What did you learn?”

  After a long pause, Benny finally spilled. “We did hire someone. Used to work for the local constabulary. Now he specializes in so-called cold cases. He didn’t believe the kid’s story. And he was an expert on the case.”

  “Did you agree with the investigator’s conclusions?” he asked Zachary.

  “I told you already—I didn’t know what to think. God knows I wanted him to be my grandson. I missed Ossie so. He loved me, pure and simple. I could see that every time I was with him. Not like—” He stopped himself. “But Ossie disappeared and now I’ve got—” He gestured around the room.

  “A family that loves you,” Dolly completed.

  “Yes. Offspring hovering for an inheritance.”

  “Not me,” Sabrina said. “I don’t care about your money.”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t. I just want to make sure your only great-grandchild is taken care of.”

  “I’d like to take care of that kid,” Phil muttered, just loud enough that everyone could hear.

  “You’re all going to be taken care of,” Zachary said bitterly. “I don’t know what all this backbiting and hostility is about.”

  “It’s about a billion dollars, give or take a few million,” Dolly explained, as if there was someone who didn’t already know it.

  “Which you will all share equally.”

  “So you say. But I hear you’re revising your will constantly.”

  “Just a few special bequests. Nothing to worry about.”

  “And you will have to pick a successor. Someone to run the company.”

  The old man frowned. “It’s true. I don’t believe in splitting it up. Divide your resources and you end up with nothing.”

  “The person you anoint as CEO will make out like a bandit.”

  “It’s only fair that the one doing the work profit accordingly.”

  Dolly gave Dan a knowing look. “So now you understand what the backbiting and hostility is about.”

  “There’s no rush to choose a successor,” Zachary insisted.

  “Isn’t there, though?”

  “I’ll make a decision when the time comes.”

  “Yes, and by any logical standard, you would pick your eldest surviving son, my husband. But you don’t seem to like him very much.”

  “That’s not true.”

  She continued as if she hadn’t heard. “Mind you, I get it. He is rather a crushing bore. But he’s competent, in his own unimaginative way.”

  “Hey!” Benny said.

  She waved him aside. “What we all fear, of course, is that you’ll choose Phil, or even worse, someone who is not a member of the family. Worse yet, if Mr. Pike is successful with his civil suit, you might put this ragamuffin imposter in charge of your estate.”

  “If I were sure that boy was my Ossie...”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Dan cleared his throat. “All that money aside, do you know of any reason why anyone would want to kill Harrison?”

  “Haven’t we already given you enough motives to fill a mystery novel?”

  “You’ve suggested Vanessa is a gold-digger. But no one has suggested she’s a murderer, and I don’t see how Harrison’s death strengthens her common-law marriage claim. And Ossie had no reason to kill his uncle.”

  “Maybe Harrison was just the first,” Benny said. “Maybe he’s planning to take us all out. One by one. Like that movie. You know. On the island.”

  “And Then There Were None?”

  “Yeah, that. Face it, we don’t know anything about that kid. He may decide he doesn’t want to share the fortune with anyone.”

  “Personally,” Dolly said, “I sleep much more peacefully knowing he’s locked up.”

  “Second that,” Phil said.

  Now he knew exactly where Ossie stood with this family. “I’m told Margaret Tully works on some of her projects with Conrad Sweeney. Anyone know him?”

  They all glanced furtively at one another.

  “It’s like Voldemort,” Jimmy whispered behind his hand. “You’re not supposed to say his name out loud.”

  “Everyone knows Sweeney,” Dolly explained. “Isn’t that right, Papa?”

  Zachary nodded. “Conrad Sweeney and I have worked on a few business deals together, despite the fact that I...wasn’t the color I suspect he prefers. And Sweeney has always taken an interest in the community and the arts. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was involved with the theater. But if you’re suggesting that Sweeney was involved in this murder, forget it. Not his style.”

  “You’re sure?”

  The man’s voice dropped several notches. “And even if, he’d make sure he didn’t get caught.”

  He thought Zachary was finished, but it turned out he had an addendum.

  “If he’s involved, Mr. Pike, the smartest thing you could do is stay out of his way. Take it from me. Sweeney does not like obstacles. He eliminates problems with swift and ruthless efficiency. No one stands in his way for long. No one.”

  Chapter 20

  Dan saw Garrett in the kitchen noodling on his keyboard. Meditating? Contemplating? Free associating? Brainstorming? Organizing his mental Kanban board?

  He wasn’t sure what to call it. But he knew whenever Garrett had a particularly sticky problem to work out, he’d wander downstairs to his Casio keyboard and play one of those shapeless jazz tunes only he enjoyed. Shouldn’t a song have a beginning, middle, and end? And sound more or less the same each time you play it? What was the point of hearing your favorite song if it was constantly changing?

  He tried not to be distracted, though between Maria’s Top-40 pop songs and Garrett’s jazz, he sometimes thought the office should be soundproofed. But at the moment, he was concerned that his top researcher had a problem so intense it drove him into the throes of Dave Brubeck. This was basically the same as Sherlock Holmes turning to cocaine. Exc
ept noisier.

  He liked Garrett, but in some respects he was the most inscrutable member of the team. Arch-conservative and typically devil’s advocate, he was the one most likely to oppose anything Dan proposed. That made Garrett far more valuable than a think-alike yes man. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that Garrett had worked for the government and been a prosecutor. But he always had the sense that Garrett was holding something back, that he didn’t totally understand what was going on in the man’s brain. With Maria, everything was right up front, and with Jimmy, it was TMI—more up front than you wanted. Garrett tended to keep his thoughts ot himself.

  He decided to venture conversation. “How’s the research going?”

  “It’s going.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It’s a process. Like all things in life.”

  Much more philosophical than his norm. “Anything new come in?”

  Garrett stopped playing. Had he come to the end of the song? It was so hard to tell with jazz. “Got a prelim tox report from the coroner’s office.”

  He was surprised they could even perform a tox screen, given how little was left of the body. “Anything of interest?”

  “A few anomalies. It’s hard to draw conclusions.”

  “And yet, they will.” Because the prosecution couldn’t possibly convince a jury to convict unless they had some theory of how the murder was committed. Bad enough to not have a body. Impossible without an MO.

  “There seems to be a strong feeling that Harrison Coleman was poisoned—but again, difficult to prove, given the scanty remains.”

  “Maybe that was the whole point of the bio-cremation.”

  “Or perhaps the police are just pursuing what they want to be the answers. Trying to make that syringe they found in the trash bin significant.”

  “That could have come from anyone. Or anywhere.”

  “But when all you’ve got to work with are crumbs, you make the most of the crumbs.”

  “Can you get me an interview with the guy who allegedly found the syringe?