File M for Murder

by Miranda James

  Laura stared hard at me and then at her brother. Slowly, as if reluctant, she reached for the papers and pulled them toward her. She drew a deep breath and began to read the one on top—Lawton’s savage letter about Ralph Johnston’s play.

  “How about some tea? Or something to eat?” I asked.

  “Hot tea would be nice.” Laura’s gaze didn’t waver from the letter as she spoke.

  With a motion of his hand that indicated I should remain seated, Sean got up to make the tea for her. I nodded, then watched with mounting concern and unease as Laura read through the short stack of papers.

  She was still reading when Sean set the cup of tea in front of her. She picked it up and took a few sips as she continued to read. Her face reddened and then paled a few times before she put the last paper down.

  “That pig. ‘Experience, manhood, honour, ne’er before did violate so itself.’” She shook her head.

  “Shakespeare, right?” Sean glanced at me.

  “I think so,” I said when Laura failed to respond. “But I’m not sure of the play.”

  “Antony and Cleopatra,” Laura said. “And here’s another one: ‘Slave, souless villain, dog! O rarely base!’” She rubbed her eyes, and I could see she was crying. “I could think of a lot more, if I weren’t so angry with him.”

  Before I could move, Sean got up and knelt by her, putting his arm around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he held her until she calmed. Then he kissed her forehead before resuming his seat.

  Laura looked at me, lovely even after crying, and my heart melted. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry that you have to know about such vulgar things. You had no idea about any of this, did you?”

  “No, Daddy, I didn’t.” She shrugged, her expression a mixture of puzzlement and sadness. “He could be an ass sometimes, but never anything like this with me. He could be really cutting with things he said, but it was only here in Athena that I saw him turn really nasty.”

  “You probably brought out the best in him. Around you, at least for a while, he tried to be a better person. I’d like to think that anyway.” I leaned forward and grasped one of her hands. Her fingers curled around mine and held tight for a moment.

  “Poor Damitra.” Laura sighed. “I can’t be too irritated with her now, even though she’s a giant pain most of the time. I had no idea she was being treated like that. Men are such pigs, sometimes.” She smiled briefly at Sean and me in turn. “With certain exceptions, thankfully.” She drained her cup and rose from the table. “I think I’ll have more tea. When are we going to eat? I’m starving.”

  By now it was almost six o’clock, and I discovered that I too was hungry. “Let me see what our options are.” I went to the fridge and checked inside. Azalea generally kept us supplied with casseroles and other ready-made meals, and I found a large dish labeled CKN SPCH that I translated as a chicken and spinach dish.

  I announced my find, and both Laura and Sean agreed that sounded fine. Into the oven it went to heat while I prepared a salad. Sean started a fresh pitcher of iced tea—one of the best kitchen gadgets I ever bought was an iced tea maker—and we sat down to a hearty meal twenty minutes later.

  While we ate I kept a covert watch on Laura. She was quieter than usual, and I knew the revelations about Connor Lawton’s true character had bothered her. She caught me a couple of times and offered what I considered a brave smile each time. If she wanted to talk, I would be ready, but I figured she would need some time to herself to process everything.

  Stewart and Dante appeared as we were finishing, and Diesel greeted his playmate with a plaintive warble. Dante bounced up and down around the much larger cat, whimpering and emitting the occasional short bark. As the humans watched with bemused smiles, Diesel placed one of his paws on the dog’s back and pushed him down. Dante knew who the alpha was and submitted meekly.

  Laura excused herself, pleading tiredness, and after Sean and I both gave her quick hugs, she departed upstairs. Diesel came to me and warbled a couple of times before he turned and followed Laura. I knew he was telling me he would take good care of my daughter.

  Sean and I sat with Stewart as he consumed the remains of the casserole and the salad. I pretended not to notice when he slipped tidbits of chicken to Dante. The dog would have turned into a complete butterball by now, the way Stewart fed him from the table, if it weren’t for the vigorous exercise he got playing with Diesel in the backyard at least twice a day.

  We filled Stewart in on the latest developments, and he was properly horrified over the attack on Laura. “When you find out who was responsible, let me know,” he said, his face darkened by anger. “I’ll help beat the crap out of the jerk.”

  Sean grinned and said, “It’s a deal.”

  Not long after that I decided I was ready to go upstairs and try to relax. I probably should have read more of the files from Lawton’s thumb drive, but I was too tired. This had been a long and difficult day, and my headache had come back with a vengeance.

  Upstairs I took some aspirin and got ready for bed. I tried to read for a few minutes, but I found it difficult to concentrate. I put the book aside and turned out the light.

  Sometimes when I’m really tired, my mind fixes itself into a seemingly endless loop, and I have trouble going to sleep. I figured tonight might be that way because of all the stress of the day. But I soon drifted off.

  I awoke sometime later to the sound of an alarm and the smell of smoke.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Three nerve-wracking, exhausting hours later, I sat in the kitchen with my family, both two- and four-legged, to take stock of our situation.

  “I’ll never complain about your filthy habit, ever again.” Laura cast a tired but fond glance at her brother.

  “Same here, I think.” I suppressed a yawn. “We’re incredibly lucky you happened to be on the back porch. The damage could have been so much worse.” Diesel meowed and rubbed against my thigh. I scratched his head to reassure him. The noise and excitement tonight had frightened him badly.

  “I just wish I’d caught the bastard.” Sean, fatigue obvious in his expression and posture, frowned.

  “At least you scared him off before he could set more fires.” Stewart shivered and clutched Dante closer to his chest. The dog whimpered and tried to lick Stewart’s chin.

  Sean had gone out to the back porch around ten to have a cigar and unwind. When he finished an hour or so later, he decided to stay there a while longer. He liked to sit there in the darkness. The glow from the street lights at the front of the house barely penetrated, and he found the atmosphere conducive to thought.

  As often happened, however, he drifted off in his chair, he told us. He awoke sometime later to sounds of an intruder in the backyard. Before he could even get out of the chair to investigate, he heard the noise of the fire as it took hold at the corner of the porch. He yelled as he scrambled through the door into the yard. He barely made out a dark shape as it fled around the corner of the house.

  Sean continued to yell for help as he ran for the water hose to douse the flames. Both Laura and Justin, whose bedrooms overlook the back of the house, heard him. Laura called 911 while Justin ran downstairs, clad only in his underwear and a ratty T-shirt, to help Sean. Stewart soon followed after, handing his dog over to Laura, who also had Diesel with her. I woke up during this and was almost mindless with worry until I knew everyone was safely out of the house.

  By the time the fire department and the police arrived, the fire was almost out. I met them on the front walk along with Laura, Diesel, and Dante. The firemen went into immediate action, and Sean, Stewart, and Justin joined us in the front a little later.

  Time blurred after that. Between the questions from the police and the fire chief, I felt my head spinning. Neighbors had come from several nearby houses and stood on the sidewalk near the street, held back by two policemen. Diesel cowered against me, overcome by the number of strange people and the noisy activity going on around us. I did
my best to reassure him, but before long I felt about as bewildered as he did.

  Finally the fire department was satisfied the fire was out, without a lot of damage, I was happy to hear. Everyone submitted to thorough questioning, and by three-thirty we were all together in the kitchen trying to make sense of what happened.

  “What I don’t get is, why would someone want to burn down this house?” Justin shook his head. “It makes no sense.”

  “It’s my fault.” Laura, her expression grim, glanced at each of us in turn. “Whoever killed Connor must think I know something. Either that or someone hates me so much he doesn’t care whom he harms. I’m sorry to be the cause of this.”

  “Nonsense,” I said, my voice a little heated. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Laura smiled briefly.

  “The police are going to watch the house,” Sean reminded us.

  “The rest of the night, at least.” Stewart frowned. “But what about tomorrow and after?”

  “I’ll help keep watch. My earliest class is at ten, so I can stay up late and sleep in a little.” Justin gazed at Laura like a puppy watching its owner and hoping for a treat.

  “Thank you, Justin,” I said, trying not to smile. “That won’t be necessary. The police will keep watching the house, and I’m sure once Kanesha Berry has heard about this, the sheriff’s department will probably get involved. If all else fails, I’ll hire a security firm to protect the house until whoever did it is caught.”

  “I hate this. All because of that jackass Connor.” Laura’s savage tone shocked us all, I think. “I wish I’d never met him.”

  I wish you hadn’t either, I thought. I would never say that to her, however. She was exhausted, as indeed we all were, not to mention the high level of stress she was under.

  “It’s time everyone went back to bed.” Sean stood. “Come on, there’s nothing more we can do now. We’ll be safe with the police keeping an eye on the house.”

  Stewart, with Dante still in his arms, stood also. “Good idea. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I can use all the beauty sleep I can get.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Sean. “I have to look my best for my hunky housemate, or he won’t pay any attention to me.”

  Sean guffawed. “Face it, Princess Not-So-Charming, you need more than sleep to get my attention.”

  Stewart placed his free hand over his heart and pretended to swoon. Dante barked. “So cruel, so heartless.” He paused. “And so full of it. I’m more man than you could ever handle anyway.” He swept past Sean and strutted his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  Justin looked slightly shocked at this interplay between Stewart and Sean, but he should have been used to it by now. Laura and I laughed, and Sean pretended to be wounded. His wide grin spoiled the effect, however.

  “Off to bed, all of you,” I said. “Come on, Diesel. We need our beauty sleep, too.” I made shooing motions with my hands and started turning out lights.

  The three preceded Diesel and me upstairs. As I headed for my bed I silently blessed Stewart. He always knew how—and when—to break the tension. We all needed to recover our balance, and by getting us to laugh, Stewart had us off to a good start.

  The next morning, after a sound sleep, I woke to the phone ringing. I groaned. A short sleep, because the clock informed me that it was two minutes past seven. I fumbled for the receiver, wanting to answer it before anyone else was wakened by it.

  “Hello.” I wanted to say, Who the heck is calling here this early?, but good manners forbade me. I noticed Diesel was not beside me on the bed. He was probably with Laura.

  “Mr. Harris? Kanesha Berry here.” Her clipped tones indicated she was in business-as-usual mode. I expected her to call about the fire, but not so early. Did the woman never sleep?

  “Good morning, Deputy. What can I do for you?”

  “I hear you had some excitement last night at your house. Mind filling me in on what happened?”

  I gave her a quick summary, and when I finished, she didn’t respond right away. I waited a few moments, then was about to ask her if she was still on the line, when she spoke.

  “Why do you think someone tried to burn your house down, Mr. Harris?”

  Her matter-of-fact tone chilled me. The reality of what happened finally started to sink in. I had been too dazed last night to take it in completely, but now I realized someone intended to kill us all.

  “Mr. Harris?”

  “Sorry, Deputy, but reality is setting in.” I paused for a steadying breath. “Obviously the person who did it is afraid one of us knows something that will implicate him—or possibly her—in Connor Lawton’s death.”

  “And what would that be?” Kanesha’s clinical tone did nothing to abate the chill. “You must have some idea, surely.”

  “Lawton’s thumb drive, I suppose. There must be something on it that’s dangerous for the arsonist.” A new thought struck me. “Although I’m not really certain why that person would think it’s still in the house.”

  “I agree that there’s potentially important evidence on the drive. I’m not convinced, however, that the arsonist thought it was still in your house and not in police custody,” Kanesha said. “Are you sure there’s not something else, something your daughter’s holding back, for example?”

  The only information Laura was holding back—that I was aware of, anyway—was that she took the drive from Lawton’s apartment after his death. How she came by it suddenly didn’t seem that significant to me. The importance of the drive was in its contents, not its provenance.

  “You’ll have to ask Laura that yourself, Deputy.” The strain in my voice was evident to me, and probably to Kanesha as well. How she would interpret that, I had no idea.

  “I’m not happy that Miss Harris didn’t turn that drive over to me right away.”

  “I can understand that,” I said. I wasn’t happy about it either, but Laura had her reasons, misguided though they were.

  “I have a computer consultant examining it.” Kanesha’s tone could have frozen water. “If she discovers that anything on that drive was changed or deleted after Mr. Lawton’s death, your daughter is going to be in serious trouble, Mr. Harris.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Kanesha’s statement—no, it was a threat—robbed me of speech. The danger of Laura’s situation hit me hard.

  I realized Kanesha was waiting for a response. In my frostiest tone I replied, “You won’t find any evidence of tampering, Deputy.” Time to go on the offensive. “What are you doing about protecting my family from another attempt at murder? I thought your department was going to keep an eye on my daughter in case of another attack.”

  I would like to have seen Kanesha’s face just then because I did not receive an immediate reply.

  When she did speak, her tone was grudging. “I’m real sorry about that, Mr. Harris. Frankly, I didn’t see any need to keep a watch on her at night. I didn’t expect anything like what happened.”

  “My whole family could have died or been critically injured.” I wasn’t ready to accept her apology. She had screwed up, and she knew it. Maybe it was petty of me, but I thought she needed to squirm a bit longer.

  “You’ve made your point already.” The tartness returned. “It won’t happen again. You’ve got my word on that.”

  “Thank you. Now, if you don’t have any more questions for me, I have things to do.”

  “That’s it for now,” Kanesha said. “When I need to talk to you or your daughter again, I’ll let you know.”

  The dial tone buzzed in my ear, and I hung up the phone. I sat there for a moment, feeling another headache coming on. I decided I needed water, because my throat felt parched. I headed into the bathroom.

  Ten minutes later I was downstairs making coffee. The house was quiet around me, and were it not for the smell of smoke that lingered, the events of last night might have been only a bad dream. I decided to wait until I’d had at least one cup of c
offee before I went out back to assess the damage. I needed caffeine in my system before I could deal with that level of reality.

  While I waited for the coffee to finish, I thought about our predicament. Laura wouldn’t be safe until Lawton’s killer was in custody. I didn’t doubt Kanesha’s ability to catch the guy, at least in the long run. I didn’t, however, see any reason not to help the investigation along in any way I could. Kanesha would consider it interference, as she had before, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I knew I could count on Sean as well.

  I grinned. If I fancied myself as Holmes, Sean certainly made a more than capable Watson. More like Nero and Archie, I thought a bit ruefully, as I patted my stomach. I wasn’t anywhere near a seventh of a ton like Nero, but that was only because of concerted effort on my part. Azalea’s cooking, though distinctly different from that of Fritz Brenner, was every bit as calorie-laden and mouthwatering.

  The coffeemaker beeped to let me know it had finished. As I poured myself a cup, I glanced at the clock. Nearly eight now. And speaking of Azalea, here she was coming through the back door.

  “Morning, Mr. Charlie.” She set her capacious bag down on the counter and rummaged inside it for her apron.

  “Morning, Azalea. How are you?” I was glad I’d remembered to put on my robe this morning. Considering how sleep-deprived I felt, I could easily have been caught in my pj’s, and Azalea would have been highly affronted by that.

  “Doing right fine.” Azalea paused in tying the apron behind her back and sniffed. “Why’s there smoke in the air?” She frowned. “You ain’t been using the fireplace, surely, this time of year.” She finished with her apron and stood glaring at me.

  “No, not the fireplace.” I explained what happened, and her eyes grew round with outrage.

  “Thank the Lord y’all wasn’t hurt.” She closed her eyes, and I could tell she was offering a silent prayer. Then her eyes opened again, and I could almost feel the sparks jumping out of them. “What Miss Dottie would think, well, I thank the Lord she be resting safe in His arms. She sure loved this house.”