by Parnell Hall
“Miss Baldwin. Do I understand correctly that you are not Don Upton’s lawyer?”
“No, I am not.”
“You refused to represent him? Is that because you think he is guilty?”
“No, and no. I haven’t refused to represent him. I’m not eligible to represent him because I’m representing Jackie Greystone.”
“But Jackie Greystone didn’t do anything.”
“I’m certainly glad to hear it. If you could pass the word on to county prosecutor Henry Firth, I’d be extremely grateful.”
“Does he think they were acting in concert?”
“I can’t comment on what the prosecutor may or may not think. But I can’t believe anyone could possibly think they were acting in concert.”
“Then why hasn’t he released her?”
“Again, I can’t comment on what the prosecutor has in mind. One explanation I’ve heard advanced is that he doesn’t want to meet me in court. That he won’t release Jackie Greystone until Don Upton is forced to find another attorney. Personally, I can’t believe that for a moment. I know Henry Firth. Such crass manipulations are beneath him. I’m sure he will speak up soon and put an end to such vile accusations. For my part, my only concern is that no one should misinterpret the fact that I am not representing Don Upton and think it reflects badly on the young man. I would be perfectly happy to represent him were I free to do so.”
“Despite the fact Don Upton and Matt Greystone were discharging firearms at the scene of the crime on the very day it occurred?”
Becky smiled. “In court a question like that would draw a barrage of objections. Leading and suggestive, assuming facts not in evidence. Since we’re not in court I can only ask, were you referring to guns that had nothing to do with the murder? Because if you were, I have it on good authority they were also considering ordering a pizza that had nothing to do with the murder either.”
Rick Reed blinked.
“But we’re getting off topic, Rick. The main point is I don’t for a minute believe that county prosecutor Henry Firth is afraid to meet me in court.”
Chapter
59
Becky Baldwin sized up the cocky young man sitting across from her. “The prosecutor has dismissed the charges against Jackie Greystone.”
“So I understand.”
“I am therefore free to defend you. Please understand, I am not soliciting employment. I am merely saying that due to the change in the situation, I am now available.”
“I can’t afford you.”
“Matt Greystone has offered to put up your retainer.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest? In case you want to pin the murder on him?”
“I don’t want to pin the murder on him. I don’t want to pin the murder on anyone. I’m not that type of attorney. If someone’s guilty, I have no problem saying they did it. But I’m not about to attack an innocent man just to raise reasonable doubt.”
“So you can only represent me with qualifications?”
“You’d like an attorney who would implicate an innocent party?”
“I’d like an attorney whose concern is to represent me, not someone who’d be hesitant to raise the concept someone else might have done it.”
“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it. I may not look like it, but I’ve been doing this for a while. I know who I can and can’t represent. I also operate under my own set of ethics, and I don’t do something just because I can get away with it. And I don’t fail to do something just because it’s not in my best interests. I do what’s best for my client, and I’ll throw Matt Greystone’s fee back in his face if he tries to get me to do something that in my opinion is not in your best interests. If you want me, fine. If you don’t want me, fine. If you want to talk this out and see if you want me, that’s fine, too. Everything you tell me is confidential, even if you decide you’re not going to hire me. You’re approaching me as a client, and everything you tell me is privileged. You want to give it a whirl?”
“Well, when you put it like that.”
“How’d the gun get in your car?”
“I assume someone put it there. That’s assuming it was in my car. Just because someone says it was doesn’t make it so.”
“Was your car locked?”
“No.”
“The police say it was.”
“And the police say the gun was in it. That would make both of those statements suspect.”
“How do you know it wasn’t locked?”
“I didn’t lock it. It’s a rental car. On a friend’s property. There was nothing in it. Why would I lock it?”
“You’d lock it if you stashed a gun there.”
“Yeah, right. If I had a murder weapon that wasn’t mine and couldn’t be connected to me in any way, I’d lock it up in my own rental car so in case it was found it would connect to me. That would not make me the swiftest murderer that ever lived.”
“Killers often panic.”
“I don’t.”
“Ever kill someone?”
“Is that a clever trap?”
“Jackie Greystone used to be your girlfriend.”
Don blinked. “Nice change of subject.”
“She was your girlfriend and she married Matt. Did that cause any tension between the two of you?”
“You know it did.”
“How would I know that?”
“Because you know enough to ask the question. And you were her attorney. Or are you still?”
“I’m flexible.”
“Oh, really?”
Becky made a face. “Oh, please. Don’t try to be irrepressible. I get enough of that from my investigator.”
Chapter
60
Aaron Grant shoved a forkful of lamb couscous into his mouth. “Oh, hell.”
“Daddy said ‘hell,’” Jennifer said.
“No, Jennifer did,” Cora said.
“Tattletale,” Jennifer said.
“Hush,” Sherry said.
“Mommy said ‘hush.’”
“‘Hush’ isn’t a bad word,” Sherry said.
“No,” Cora said. “You want to hear some bad words, Jennifer?”
“Cora.”
“Just trying to clear up any confusion.”
“She’s a child.”
“I’m a big girl!”
“See, she’s a big girl,” Cora said.
“Daddy’s going to say something a lot worse if someone doesn’t answer me,” Aaron said. “I’ve been losing to Rick Reed all week. Becky keeps changing clients every half hour. The police keep changing who they’re charging. And we’ve got more murder weapons arriving every minute. The whole Yankee telecast this evening will be on anything but baseball, and whoever wins the game will be entirely coincidental. Now, I appreciate eating dinner in front of a TV we can mute when the commercials come on, but right now I’d be happy muting Rick Reed. Is there anything I can write that he doesn’t have?”
Cora shook her head. “Dan Finley slips him stuff before I even get it.”
“Well, can you tell me who Becky’s representing.”
“I’m not sure Becky can tell you who she’s representing. I think the way it works is she’s representing Matt Greystone, Jackie Greystone, or Don Upton, depending on who’s charged with the crime.”
“And just who is accused of the crime at the moment?”
“At the moment it’s Don Upton,” Cora said. “But that’s subject to change in the event someone goes on the DL and he gets called up to the majors.”
“And a gun was planted in his car?”
“Whoa, listen to the biased reporting. I’d watch out, Sherry. He’s ready to believe anyone’s innocent if Becky represents them.”
“Big deal, so am I,” Sherry said. “I think everyone’s going to be very unhappy with this case.”
“Why?” Cora said.
“Everything points to the fact Matt did it. No one wants that. But he’s got the money, the power, and
the fame. Those are the type of people who have something to hide, and those are the type of people who kill.”
“Matt did it!” Jennifer squealed.
“Oh, my God,” Cora said. “Now look what you’ve done. Just let Rick Reed get a hold of that sound bite.”
“Bite!” Jennifer squealed.
“That’s not a bad word,” Cora said. “You have to say ‘bite me.’”
“Bite me!”
“Cora, I’m going to kill you.”
“Mommie’s going to kill Aunt Cora!”
“And you complain about me,” Cora said. “You’re training her to be a witness for the prosecution.”
“Seriously,” Aaron said, “how are we going to get out of it?”
“We? I’m not in it.”
“How is this ever going to end?”
“I don’t think it is. Becky is just going to keep racking up retainers until she’s ready to retire. I’m not sure what happens to the defendants then, but someone is sure to step up.”
“You’re bluffing,” Aaron said.
Cora looked at him. “I beg your pardon.”
“You’re sitting here looking like you’re not concerned, and Matt Greystone is involved in a murder case. He may not be the current suspect, but it doesn’t matter, the case revolves around him. I know it, you know it, everybody else knows it. And you’re going nuts trying to figure the whole thing out so he can pitch again as soon as possible. Knowing you, you’ll come up with some convoluted way to do it, which won’t appear to make any sense to any normal rational person, but which will turn out to be diabolically clever, revealing the killer and making everyone slap their foreheads saying, ‘My God, why didn’t I think of it’?”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Cora said.
“I know that’s what you’re doing.”
“The hell I am.”
“Cora said ‘hell’!”
“No, Jennifer did.”
Sherry exhaled in exasperation.
“Mommy almost said it, too.”
“What?” Cora said.
Sherry pointed at the TV.
It was a commercial for one of the fantasy baseball sites that were all the rage. Fans picked their teams of players, and got paid off depending on how they performed. It was just like the fantasy baseball people always played, except you had to pay to do it.
“I can’t believe Major League Baseball is sponsoring these rip-off artists,” Sherry said. “It’s gambling, plain and simple. It’s betting on baseball. They ban Pete Rose for betting on baseball, and here they are promoting gambling. It’s shameful.”
Cora frowned. “Pete Rose,” she murmured.
“What about Pete Rose?” Aaron said.
“Could it really be that simple?”
“Simple?” Aaron said. “Did you just figure out who did it?”
“No,” Cora said. “But it wouldn’t be a bad idea to pretend I did.”
“Cora,” Sherry said.
But Cora was already rushing out the door.
Chapter
61
“I want to get into the witch’s house.”
Chief Harper cocked his head at Cora. “Oh? Well, guess what?”
Cora waved it away. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re about to get a big kick out of denying me access to the witch’s house. But here’s the deal. We’re not making any progress, every time you turn around you’ve got a new suspect, and the town’s in danger of becoming a laughingstock. You’ve got to do something to crack this case open.”
“Of course, I do. And since I won’t let you into Amanda Hoyt’s office, now you want to get into her house.”
“That’s not it at all.”
“Oh? Tell me, where did I go wrong?”
“What a setup. I got too many answers to that, Chief. But I happen to be your friend. I’m not trying to pull a fast one. I’m trying to clear away some of the deadwood. I don’t just want you to let me into the witch’s house. I want you there. And Matt Greystone. And his wife. And his agent. And his friend. And a few other people. I want them all on hand.”
“What for?”
Cora grimaced. “See, this is where it’s better if you take me on faith. I’m hoping to trap a killer, but if I don’t, I’d rather have you poking fun at me after the event instead of before.”
“Cora, this is not coming out well.”
“Yeah, I know. Chief, you ever have a case you didn’t wanna solve?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You got a murder case. You figure it out. Then you wish you hadn’t.”
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“No matter who you charge, the case looks bad for Matt Greystone. The longer it’s open the more he gets hurt. You got to solve it and get him off the hook.”
“Oh, now I’m a stumbling block in the way of the Yankees winning the pennant?”
“Well, not this year. He’s not coming back this year. The question is whether he comes back at all. You can make that happen, but you got to have a little faith.”
“And what do you expect Henry Firth to think of your little scheme?”
“Ask him.”
“What?”
“Ask him. Invite him to be there. It’s a win-win for Ratface. He gets all the suspects assembled, he gets to hear what they say, and no one’s invoking any nasty rights to remain silent. Becky Baldwin will be there to give it her blessing, so there will be no question of anyone violating anyone’s rights.”
Cora lowered her voice. “Plus, you don’t have to tell anyone we’re doing it. I certainly won’t. And you won’t. And Henry won’t. And if you can stop Dan Finley from tipping Rick Reed, we can do the whole thing under the radar. And if it doesn’t work, no harm, no foul. Sorry, wrong sports metaphor. But you know what I mean.
“We gotta do something. No one’s happy with the current situation. Except maybe a few Red Sox fans. But even they feel bad for the kid. One tragedy on top of another. It’s enough to drive anybody around the bend, let alone a young man in his situation. Just give me a shot.”
Chief Harper studied Cora’s face. “I can’t remember you ever so impassioned about anything.”
“Hey, I’m a Yankee fan. I admit it. But that’s not what this is all about. Well, maybe a little. I’m afraid my judgment’s impaired because of who he is. I have to do something to compensate. This is my shot. I’ve gotta take it. If I can’t persuade you to cooperate I’ll probably have a nervous breakdown, and I have to tell you the resultant fallout is not going to be beneficial to the police department.”
Cora smiled her most ingratiating smile. “So, please, help me out here. Get me into the witch’s house.”
Harper considered. “All right. What do you have in mind?”
Cora grimaced. “I’d rather not say.”
Chapter
62
“This is my first séance,” Cora said. “So please forgive me if I’m not entirely professional. I’ve never raised the dead before, so I can’t promise that they’ll cooperate.”
Cora looked around at the faces of the people assembled in the witch’s drawing room. They ranged, in Cora’s estimation, from the skeptical to the more skeptical.
Seated around the table were: Matt Greystone; Jackie Greystone; Don Upton; Matt’s agent, Lenny; Matt’s real estate agent, Judy Douglas Knauer; Becky Baldwin; Chief Harper; and Cora Felton.
Henry Firth stood a step back from the table, arms folded, as if divorcing himself from the proceedings. Having been talked into going, the prosecutor was not at all happy when he got there and discovered the nature of the event to which he had allowed Chief Harper to escort the prisoner. Cora counted herself lucky he hadn’t immediately pulled the plug.
“Anyway,” Cora said, “since I’ve never contacted the dead before, I don’t expect to be able to do anything spectacular, like voices, or holograms, or levitations, or anything of that ilk. Of course, if a spirit wants to chime in, they will c
ertainly be welcome. But all I’m shooting for is a push in the right direction. A hint as to what the hell happened. Because clearly nobody knows. And I don’t think the police are getting any closer to the truth, no matter how many people they arrest. And I’d hate for us to become a laughingstock. Which is a very real possibility. We have a multimillion-dollar pitcher here, which guarantees attention will be focused on Bakerhaven until something is resolved.
“As if that weren’t enough reason to resort to the supernatural, consider this. Puzzles have been interjected into these crimes. I take that personally. It’s like someone threw down the gauntlet. Under such circumstances I really hate to admit that I haven’t a clue.
“Well, I’m admitting it, I’m desperate, and I’m ready to try anything.
“Anyway, I’m going to do the best I can. And I need you all to help me. This doesn’t work if there are nonbelievers.” Cora put up her hand. “I know, I know, you’re all nonbelievers. So am I. But I’m going to give it my best shot, and I ask you to give it yours.
“Since I can’t do the spectacular, I’m going to try to do something simple. I found this wooden box.”
Cora picked the box up, set it on the table.
“It was hidden in the attic in a trunk labeled ‘Do Not Touch.’ Naturally, I did. Which probably means I’m cursed. Anyway, I found this Ouija board.”
Cora pulled a wooden Ouija board out of the box.
“The witch had stashed it in this wooden chest with the admonition not to open it, and probably never thought of it again. Which makes it perfect for our purpose. It is a neutral Ouija board, untainted by the witch’s use. It will not slant things in her favor.”
“Oh, my God!” Don said. “I’m sitting here listening, trying to go along, but this is too much. Untainted by the witch’s use? What kind of hooey are you peddling here?”
“Now, Don,” Jackie said. “This is an old-fashioned séance, plain and simple. Buy the premise, buy the bit. No one’s asking you to believe in this nonsense. We’re asking you to shut up and let it happen.”