“Until you ran out of money. And had nothing to show for it. You made promises to Sweeney but couldn’t deliver. You owed him a ton of money and couldn’t pay him back.” He paused. “Unless you got a huge intake of money. I think you need something like half a billion. Not just a fourth.”
Benny turned and stared wordlessly at his brother.
“First of all, you had to make sure your father didn’t change his will to make Ossie an heir. That’s why you filed the declaratory judgment lawsuit. To put everything on hold for a long time—possibly forever, given the likelihood that your ailing father would die before the lawsuit was resolved. Once he was dead, he couldn’t change his will, so it wouldn’t matter whether Ossie was a true Coleman. I looked—Zachary’s current will doesn’t mention Carl or his heirs. Understandable given the circumstances. But was that enough? I got into the civil case and started pushing for a fast resolution—so you got worried again. Murdering Harrison and framing Ossie—that was perfection. Two heirs, two lines of inheritance eliminated with a single stroke. You stood to inherit half a billion.” He paused, bringing his gaze back to the sofa. “Unless something tragic happened to Benny. Then you’d get it all.”
Benny somehow pushed himself up on wobbly legs. “Were you planning to murder me, too?”
Phil looked angry. “Of course not. This is all bull. Don’t you see what he’s doing? Trying to get money for his client. He’s probably got some kind of contingency fee arrangement.”
Dan shook his head. “I think you found out what Harrison knew, which gave you one more reason to kill him before his conscience took control and he went public. I think your background with chemicals, and your military training with bombs and weapons in Afghanistan, helped you put the whole thing together.”
Zachary looked frozen, paralyzed. “This isn’t true, is it, Phil?” No answer. “Is it?”
Phil pushed away from the hearth. “I don’t have to listen to this garbage.”
Dan laid a hand on his collar, holding him back. “You’re staying right here till I’m finished.”
Phil struggled but couldn’t get loose. “Let go of me!”
“Can’t take me, can you? Not on your own. Which is why you hired those thugs to attack me. Twice. You didn’t want to kill me. You realized the murder trial would be a referendum on Ossie’s identity, and you wanted that stopped. You thought taking me out would delay the trial. By the time a new lawyer was appointed and ready to go, your father would be dead, never having changed his will. As you told me, Zachary is very ill, so if you could just gum up the wheels of justice for a while...”
Phil shook loose. “This is pure fantasy. Don’t listen to this.”
“You take ketamine for your migraines, don’t you? That’s why you had it on hand—and the syringe. A large overdose would kill Harrison.”
“You have no proof of any of this!”
Dolly’s lips parted. “Phil—you give yourself the migraine injections. I’ve seen you do it.”
Dan nodded. “You went to the theater that night, after Ossie and Vanessa left. Maybe you’d already made up your mind, but when you learned Harrison and Ossie had been talking, you knew you had to act fast. Murdering both would be too obvious—everyone would suspect another member of the family, and Benny doesn’t seem nearly as likely a suspect as the former soldier. So you came up with a plan that eliminated them both—in different ways. You killed Harrison, then destroyed the body to prevent anyone from figuring out how he was murdered. You left the syringe in the trash bin outside Ossie’s house and sent Quint to find it, pretending to be a police officer. Since you were in the courtroom most days, I’m sure you now realize that was a mistake. You destroyed Harrison’s body because you worried about the ketamine being traced to you, but Dr. Zanzibar found traces on the syringe. Unfortunately, by that time, the police were convinced Ossie was the murderer and weren’t considering any other suspects.”
Zachary rolled his chair close to his youngest son. “Phil—is this true?”
“Of course not. It’s all lies. This shyster is probably hoping we’ll pay him to stay quiet.”
Dan shook his head. “I’m not the one who needs money. You are. You killed Harrison, planted fake evidence, and missed the real clue—the chessboard.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I noticed when I went to the crime scene that the pieces had been arranged in a famous endgame position. White has a rook and a pawn, but black has only a rook. If Black screws it up, White wins. That’s called the Lucena position. But if Black forces a draw, it’s called the Philidor position. Phil-idor.” He smiled. “You probably had a gun to his head, but Harrison still managed to leave us a clue identifying his killer. Not on the mirror. On the chessboard.”
“This is completely preposterous, farfetched nonsense. Who would know that?”
“Harrison. A chess grandmaster.”
“You probably rearranged those pieces yourself.”
“Detective Kakazu can tell you that I never touched them.”
“This is outrageous! Crazy!” Phil screamed at the top of his lungs, spittle flying from his lips. “Have you all gone insane?”
“No,” Dan said quietly. “But I think you have.”
Benny took a step forward. “Mr. Pike...is there any way you can...let us handle this? It is a family matter.”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t. Because you see, Phil has been watching this trial very carefully. And as soon as Ossie was acquitted, after he spoke so convincingly on the witness stand, Phil realized he had to do something fast before your father changed his will.” He pointed at the coffee table. “I’m willing to bet Phil put a heavy dose of ketamine in that snifter. Phil poured that drink for you, didn’t he, Zachary?”
Zachary stared at the snifter. “Yes.” He picked up the snifter and threw it at Phil. It smashed against the fireplace.
“Wish you hadn’t done that. But there will be trace elements on the glass. That should be all we need to convict Phil of attempted murder. Then we can—”
“Shut up, you son of a bitch!”
Dolly stood—holding a gun. “I think everyone needs to stay calm and be quiet. I’ll take charge of this situation. No one is going anywhere until I—”
Phil sprang on her. They struggled. Benny tried to get between them, but Phil pushed him away. A moment later, Phil held the gun.
And pointed it at Dan. “I am going to make you sorry you came here tonight.”
“And now we have all the proof we need,” Dan said quietly.
“You think you’re so damn smart? You’re just a paid mouthpiece. You’re a crook and your father was a killer.”
“My father was a hero and a great man.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re about to be a dead man.”
Dan stared at him but didn’t move.
“You think I won’t shoot?”
“Sadly, I think you will. You’re far more afraid of Sweeney, and what he’ll do if you don’t pay him back, than you are of me. So do it already. Get it over with.”
Sweat streamed down Phil’s flushed face. His gun hand shook. His eyes were wild. “I will. I’ll do it.”
“Then do it already!”
“I will!”
“Do it!”
Phil pulled the trigger.
It made a loud noise—but nothing happened.
Dan walked forward and snatched the gun away. “I called Dolly before I got here, told her I suspected you—which she believed with impressive alacrity—and asked her to appear at the right moment with a gun. A gun with no bullets.”
Phil stared at her. “You—you betrayed me.”
Dolly shook her head. “You betrayed us all, Phil. Every single one of us. Starting with Ossie. If you needed money you should’ve told us.”
“Why? So you could laugh at me? Remind me how inferior I am? So our father could hate me even more than he already does? Phil, the perpetual screw-up. You all treated me like a nuisance, not a member of
the family.”
Dan glanced at his watch. “The police are almost here. I’m not your lawyer—and never will be—but I recommend that you keep your mouth shut.”
“All I ever wanted was what was rightly mine.” Phil crumbled to the floor. “All I want is what I deserve.”
“Very glad to hear that.” Red lights were visible in the window. “Because that’s exactly what you’re about to get.”
Chapter 50
Several days later, in the living room of his office, Dan sat opposite Ossie—with a checkered board between them. Jimmy was in the kitchen with Garrett. Maria and Camila huddled together, staring at Maria’s phone.
“Just got off the phone with Mr. K,” Garrett said. “He is very pleased with how this has worked out. He says we should all expect a handsome bonus this month, and that we should take some time off...”
“My kind of boss,” Maria said, poking at her phone screen.
“...and then be back in the office Monday morning. Because he has another case for us.”
Dan grinned. Sounded like business as usual in this crazy firm. He continued his lesson. “Okay, Ossie, those are the basics. Got it? Chess rules are pretty simple.”
Ossie smiled. “Thanks for explaining it to me.”
“It’s fun, once you understand it.”
“Fun? Really?”
“And good for developing valuable skills. Focus. Planning. Persistence. The rules are easy. Strategy is complex.”
“I think I’ve got the movements down.”
“The only complicated one is the knight.”
“The horse.”
“It’s called a knight.”
“Why? It looks nothing like a knight. The bishop looks more like a knight. This is a horse.”
“Be that as it may—”
“For that matter, the rook looks nothing like a rook. It’s a castle.”
“But we don’t—”
“When you switch it with the king, you call it castling. Why don’t we just call it a castle?”
He bit his lower lip. “Never mind.” He pushed the chessboard to the side. “Figured out what you want to do next?”
“Maybe...”
“You’ve been through a rough patch. Don’t let it define your future. Start fresh. Make yourself into whatever you want to be. Didn’t you tell me you wanted to be an astronaut?”
Ossie looked pensive, as if he were working up the courage to say something.
“You know you can tell me anything.”
“I know.” Ossie paused. “I’ve decided I want to be a lawyer. Like you.”
His eyes widened. “You do?”
“I made up my mind during the trial. If I survived, I promised myself I was going to dedicate my life to helping others who need it. Just like you helped me.”
He felt a strange itching behind the eyeballs. “Well...if you’re sure.”
“Problem is—college enrollment starts soon. And I have no academic record.”
“Take the GED. You’ll pass.”
“I don’t have a transcript.”
“I think I may be able to help with that,” Camila said from the kitchen. “A letter from the mayor should get you into any college around here.”
“Mr. K has promised to help, too,” Maria added. “And he seems to be able to get anything done.”
“Will he pay the tuition?”
“You don’t need it.” Dan paused. “Your grandfather has asked our firm to create a trust fund for you.”
“What? He doesn’t have to—”
“Shush. You’ve had a rocky start in life, which was in some part due to decisions and mistakes he and his family made. You deserve some assistance. The civil suit has been dropped and your grandfather has added you to his will. But even before the time comes to inherit your share of his fortune, you’ll have access to enough cash to live on.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I’ve got something else for you.” Camila walked over passed him an envelope.
Ossie opened it. “A party invitation?”
“Dolly Coleman is throwing a society ball. Fundraiser. For our new Athena Clinic.”
Ossie put the invite back in the envelope. “Wow. Thanks. That sounds...really boring.”
Camila laughed. “Yes. But the point is—the invitation came from Dolly. She’s reaching out to you. She wants you to be part of the family.”
Ossie’s eyes suddenly looked very wet. “I—don’t know what to say. This is all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I know.”
“I thought I was completely out of chances.” He grinned lopsidedly, tears welling up in his eyes. “Guess I still had one more.”
Dan clasped Camila’s hand. “And that is exactly what the Last Chance Lawyers are all about.”
* * *
Late that evening, Dan and Maria sat on the upstairs balcony of their office, watching the ocean lap the shore as the sun set, savoring a bowl of Dan’s homemade vanilla toffee ice cream.
“Dan,” she said, “this may be your greatest achievement yet.”
“The Coleman case?”
“No. The ice cream. Yum. But speaking of the case. There is one minor detail that no one has focused on.”
He laughed. “More than one, actually. Which are you talking about?”
“Ossie.” She paused. “If that is his real name.”
He nodded slowly. “We have no proof. We’re assuming Carl wouldn’t kill his own son. But that man was seriously, dangerously insane—a quality that appears to be prominent in that family tree. Maybe he noticed a resemblance and tried to pass off a kid he abducted as Ossie, using Harrison as a pawn. Carl’s final revenge against his father. There’s no way we can know and no one left to ask. Is the boy Harrison found at the cabin the true heir?”
“Or just a Carl abductee who fortunately managed to outlive his captor.”
“I don’t think ‘fortunate’ is the right word for anyone forced into that nightmare.”
“But still. Who can be sure about anything, given the state of this boy’s mind...assuming the memory loss hasn’t been an act from the beginning...”
He took another spoonful of ice cream and let it roll down his tongue. “But whoever he is, he needs a family. And Zachary wants to believe his grandson is alive. I know—that man made some horrible choices so I shouldn’t get too griefy about him. But still. He’s about to pass and he deserves some peace before the end. I think this is the perfect resolution.”
“I agree, but—does it make you feel like a failure? We didn’t really figure out who that boy is.”
“No. I feel like a huge success. Because I figured out who I am.”
She squinted. “If you didn’t know, you should’ve asked me. You’re St. Pete’s courtroom Jiminy Cricket—”
“But for the right reasons. Not because I have to be. Not because I’m defined by a tragedy in my past. Because that’s who I choose to be. That’s what my father was telling me—well, in a dream. Or a memory, who knows? I choose to be the guy who doesn’t sit on his butt while the government—or anyone else—screws someone over. Aristotle said knowing who you are is the beginning of all wisdom.”
Maria nodded. “You know who I am?”
“Um...super-smart, devastatingly attractive, social media maven?”
She laughed. “Just a young lawyer...who really likes working with you. No worries about Ossie—I will keep my big mouth shut.”
“I know you will.” He gazed out at the horizon. “I genuinely like working with you, too, Ms. Morales.”
And together, they watched the palm trees dance in the darkness.
Epilogue
Conrad Sweeney sat behind his mahogany desk drumming his fingers, staring at the two men seated on the other side. His face was calm, almost blank. His posture was straight. Only the fingers provided a clue to his inner state.
“This cannot continue.”
“I know. None of us saw this coming, Mr. Sweeney.”
&
nbsp; “Doctor Sweeney. I’ve been patient. God knows I have. Bad enough to lose in court. Again. But this is a disaster.”
“You’ll bounce back, sir.”
“The kid gets off. Phil goes to jail—which means he’ll never be able to pay me what he owes. He’ll probably be disinherited, so I can’t collect against the estate. This is a catastrophic blow. The biggest loss I’ve taken in my entire career.”
“I know. I know.”
“And worse—Pike knows I’m involved. He used my name in open court. He knows he’s hurt me. He may not know all the details—but given his talent for unraveling secrets, it’s only a matter of time before he figures out the rest. Something has to be done.”
The two men facing him—District Attorney George Belasco and Bradley Ellison—matched his somber expression.
“I tried to keep you out of it,” Ellison said, “when I was testifying. Pike forced my hand.”
“Pike’s not as smart as he thinks he is,” Belasco said. “He’s not in your class. Not even close. He wants to be what you are.”
“Not exactly correct,” Ellison said. “He wants to fix his father’s mistakes.”
Sweeney steepled his fingers, still stoic as a rock. “He blames you.”
“Yes. And now you.”
Sweeney shook his head. “If he only knew.”
“Maybe it’s time he did.”
“I can’t do that. Fun though it might be.”
“Imagine how that would screw him up. He’s built his whole life around the belief that his father was wronged so he’s going to spend the rest of his life playing Zorro.”
“I know, I know. And I’ve let him have his little delusion. Even though we both know better. You testified that his father killed that man—because he did.”
Ellison nodded. “And you know it’s true—because you were there.”
Sweeney turned to Belasco. “Did you bring the folder?”
“Yes.” He opened his briefcase.
“What, no backpack?”
“I’m a lawyer, not a child.” Belasco slid the file across the desk.
Trial by Blood Page 27