Accused

by Lisa Scottoline

  “It sure is,” Judy answered. “What’s your business, William?”

  William ducked behind Gage, who smiled indulgently. “William is a little bashful with new people, so I’ll tell you for him. William wanted his class to have a pet hamster, like he read about in one of his books, so he borrowed the money for the hamster and its cage, and formed a syndicate of other third-graders who hold shares to own the hamster and pay their share in its upkeep. They’re going to hold a bake sale to pay back the bank.”

  Judy smiled. “That’s wonderful, William.”

  Mary couldn’t help but be touched, and she was guessing that Gage was the bank and not necessarily a murderer, though that remained to be seen.

  “Today, William learned how to make a balance sheet, because the syndicate has some expenses, like hamster pellets and wooden shavings, and he also learned to put a value on his time and labor. Right, William?” Gage bent down and managed to gentle the boy out. “Another day we’ll work on meeting new people, because that’s something business leaders have to do, too, but not today. Ladies, if you wait a sec, his mom should be waiting for him, and I’ll walk him out, then be right back.”

  “Thanks so much. Bye, William.” Judy waved at the boy, who averted his eyes.

  “Good-bye, William.” Mary tried to process the information while Gage and the boy left, closing the door behind them. “Was that for real or for show?”

  Judy laughed. “Mare. He might be a nice guy, even though he has a maid.”

  “Not possible. He’s a stone cold killer.”

  “Now who has confirmation bias, huh? The kid obviously likes him, so how bad can he be?”

  “Kids liked Ted Bundy, too.”

  “You’re making that up. What a guy, huh? He must be in some kind of community outreach program, from Wharton.”

  “You call it outreach, I call it noblesse oblige.”

  “Call it what you want, at least he’s doing it.” Judy paused. “I should take the lead with him. I did literacy outreach in school, and I like him better than you do. Also he’s superhot and you’re engaged.”

  “But you’re living with someone who has a maid.”

  “Stop. Here he comes.” They both fell silent as the door opened, Gage came in, strolled toward them, and sat down in one of the cushy chairs, crossing his long legs and raking back his glossy bangs.

  “Sorry to make you wait, but that hour is sacred to me.”

  Mary wished for a notepad, so she could write, OH PLEASE.

  Gage slid her business card from the pocket of his white oxford shirt, which he wore tucked into his jeans. “So you’re from the law firm of Rosato & Associates, and you said you were here on a personal matter. What would that be?”

  Judy cleared her throat. “My name is Judy Carrier and this is my colleague Mary DiNunzio, and we’re looking into the murder of Fiona Gardner.”

  Gage frowned slightly. “You know that there’s a man in prison for that, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you hired by him, to get him out or something?”

  “No, we were hired by Allegra, Fiona’s sister, because she thinks that Lonnie Stall, who was convicted of the crime, is in fact innocent.”

  Gage’s eyebrows flew upward, disappearing under his hair. “Allegra thinks that? Little Allegra?”

  “She’s not so little anymore, and we just thought we’d ask you a question or two, because I’m sure you feel, as Allegra does, that justice should be done.” Judy gestured at the wall plaque. “Laws without morals are useless, right?”

  “Okay,” Gage said uncertainly. “I have some time, so shoot. What’s your question?”

  “We understand that you dated Fiona in high school, is that correct?”

  “Yes.” Gage blinked, his mouth falling into a sad line. “We dated for two years, we were boyfriend and girlfriend, you’d say.”

  “So you knew her well?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “Can you tell me what she was like?” Judy kept her tone light, and Mary knew that she was trying to ease him into the questioning, and it was working because Gage’s expression softened.

  “Sure, Fiona was a great girl. She was funny and smart and really lively. She was just fun, fun to be around. Everybody adored Fiona.”

  “Who were her closest girlfriends, do you know?”

  “Sure, who doesn’t? Sue Winston, Mary Weiss, Honor Jason, and Hannah Wicker.”

  Judy wrote down the names. “Why did you say, ‘who doesn’t?’ Were you close to them, because you dated her?”

  Gage frowned. “Oh, you don’t know. Three of those girls were killed in a car crash, a few months after Fiona was murdered.”

  Judy gasped. “Really? How horrible.”

  “Yes, it was. It is.” Gage sighed, barely audibly. “It was on a stretch of Route 1 near Chadds Ford, and people get killed there all the time. The paper said that drinking was involved, but you should understand it wasn’t a coincidence.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fiona wasn’t a big partier, and she was a civilizing influence for her friends. You know, the field hockey team could get rowdy, but not when Fiona was around. You can imagine how hard they took her death, and once they lost her, they acted out, got wilder.” Gage pursed his lips. “She was the center of that group, and as they say, the center couldn’t hold, once she was gone.”

  “That’s such a shame,” Judy said, and Mary could tell the revelation derailed her line of questioning, so she jumped in.

  “Tim, you said that three of the girls were killed. Which one wasn’t?”

  “Hannah Wicker. She survived the crash, the only survivor.”

  “Do you know where she is, these days?”

  “No idea.”

  Mary nodded to Judy to take over, and Judy asked, “Do you know if any of those girls were at the party, the night Fiona was killed?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I believe they were. They were like a pack, they did everything together. It was basically the forward line of the hockey team. Fiona was the center, in more ways than one.”

  “So I take it you weren’t there, the night she was murdered?”

  “No.” Gage shook his head. “We had broken up about two weeks earlier, so I was out of the picture.”

  “Where were you that night?”

  “Home.”

  Mary wished she had a way to check his alibi, but Judy didn’t bat an eye.

  “Did the police contact you at all, in connection with her death?”

  “No.” Gage scoffed. “Why would they?”

  “Just checking on their procedure. Did they contact her friends?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Also, can I ask, why did you break up? Or, who broke up with whom?”

  “Yes, of course you can ask. High school was a long time ago, and whenever I think of Fiona, the sad part isn’t that we broke up, but that she was murdered.”

  “So did you break up with her, or the other way around?” Judy asked again, and Mary made a mental note that she had to ask him twice.

  “She broke up with me.”

  “Do you know why? Did she say?”

  “Not really, but I could tell she lost interest in me.”

  Judy made a note. “When you say lost interest, what do you mean?”

  “You know, she was more distant, not as available. Didn’t return calls or texts. She used to do office work for her father, filing and such, and all of a sudden, there seemed to be a lot more of that, even on the weekend.”

  “Did she work at home or in town?”

  “At home. With practice, games, and homework, she didn’t have time to go into the city. They have a home office complex at their farm. They call it the cottage.”

  Judy nodded. “Yes, we’ve seen it.”

  “Right, well, she used to help out on some project with her father and uncle, and I got the idea that she wasn’t that into me anymore.” Gage managed a rueful smile. “She
had to spell it out, though. I was slow on the uptake.”

  “You were hurt.”

  “Yes,” Gage admitted, with the slightest of winces. “Puppy love, all that.”

  Judy nodded. “By the way, which uncle was the project for?”

  “Edward, he was a nice one. He was the youngest of the three brothers. The other one, Richard, was a little stiffer.”

  “Did she break up with you because she became interested in someone else?”

  “No, she didn’t say, and she didn’t start dating anyone afterwards.” Gage frowned. “I’m not the jealous type, and this was high school. I mean, really.”

  “How would you know if she dated anyone or not?”

  “We went to the same school. She stayed single, until she was murdered.”

  “Right.” Judy smiled, and Mary knew they were both thinking that maybe Fiona had broken up with Gage for Lonnie, and if that were so, Gage would have no way of knowing it. Judy continued, “This is going to sound off-the-wall, but is there anyone you think would’ve had a motive to murder Fiona?”

  Gage recoiled. “No, not at all. Fiona was just a nice, cute girl. She wasn’t nasty or mean, and she didn’t have an enemy in the world. As far as I’m concerned, they got the right guy in jail, whoever he is. I heard it was one of the waiters.”

  Judy hesitated. “Let me ask you something else, off-the-wall. What do you know about Allegra?”

  Mary didn’t know why Judy was asking him, but kept her own counsel.

  “Allegra Gardner, girl genius? Look, I know she’s your client, but she is one weird kid.”

  “Did you ever know Fiona to babysit for Allegra?”

  Gage cocked his head, thinking. “You mean like babysit for Allegra when her parents went out?”

  “Yes, or any other time. When you were dating Fiona, did she ever babysit for Allegra?”

  “No, not at all.”

  Mary didn’t say anything, dismayed.

  Judy asked, “You never went over to visit Fiona when she was babysitting for Allegra?”

  “No, I never did. I don’t remember her babysitting for Allegra, and they had a housekeeper, so I assume she’d do it, if Allegra needed to be babysat.”

  Mary remembered Allegra had mentioned that. “What’s the housekeeper’s name?”

  “Janet Wolsey. She still works for them.”

  Judy slid her pad into her leather satchel. “That’s all the questions we have.” She looked over at Mary. “Unless you have anything else.”

  “No,” Mary said, rising. “Thank you for your time.”

  Tim stood, brushing down his jeans. “You’re welcome, it was a pleasure to meet you both. I’ll walk you out.”

  “Great, thanks,” Judy said, and they walked with Gage to the door, where they bade him good-bye again, then left and stood blinking in the sun on Locust Walk, which was more crowded, now that the school and work day was over. Judy turned to Mary, squinting against the sun. “Is he crossed off the suspect list? I say yes.”

  “Yes, but I wish we could check out his alibi. He said she broke up with him, and you had to ask him twice.”

  “There’s only one friend left to go see. It’s so sad about that crash, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, and as far as Hannah Wicker, we’ll have to find out where she lives.” Mary eyed Judy. “I can’t help but wonder if it’s connected, can you?”

  “Don’t know how, or why, except that Fiona was the leader and they were all a little lost without her.”

  “We’ll see, I guess.” Mary slid her BlackBerry from her pocket to see if Allegra had emailed her back, but she hadn’t. “Still no email from our girl. Let’s call her.”

  “Okay.”

  Mary made a beeline for the nearest bench, where they sat down, and she called Allegra on her secret cell phone. The call was answered in the middle of the first ring, but Allegra sounded hysterical.

  “Mary? Mary, thank God, is that you?”

  “What’s the matter?” Mary felt fear going through her like an electrical bolt.

  “My parents! They’re taking me to a hospital! They’re going to commit me! Mary? Mary!”

  “Allegra!” Mary shouted in anguish, as the line went dead.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Do you believe the Gardners?” Mary asked Judy, as they hustled toward Walnut Street. The crowd flowed around them, students heading for the Quad, runners in red-and-blue singlets jogging toward Franklin Field, and Penn and Drexel employees burdened with briefcases and messenger bags, heading for trains and buses out of the city. “They’d commit their own daughter? The poor kid! She sounded so scared.”

  “Not going to lie, I didn’t see this coming.” Judy raised her hand to hail a cab before they’d even reached the curb, and the few in the congested lanes of traffic all looked full. “Damn.”

  “What do we even do?” Mary pumped her hand wildly, even though she knew it was useless. She felt overwhelmed with guilt, and not even the funny kind. “We go out there, right? We see where they took her and why?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why not?” Mary looked at her, surprised. Her heart was pounding under her blouse, and she’d broken a sweat. “Don’t you want to see what’s going on?”

  “Of course, but we have to stay calm, and by we, I mean you.” Judy frowned at the traffic, keeping her hand in the air.

  “There’s a cab!” Mary waved to the driver, and they both hustled toward the Yellow cab as it pulled over.

  “Right behind you,” Judy said, and the women flung open the door, jumped inside, and yanked their purses and bags onto their laps. Judy leaned forward and said to the driver, “1815 Locust Street, please.”

  “You really want to go back to the office?” Mary frowned as the cab lurched off, then stopped again in traffic. The backseat smelled like Marlboros and Armor-All, which was par for Philly. “Why don’t we just go get my car?”

  “I want to know the law, I’m not sure I can figure it out on the fly.”

  “The law? The law is clear, isn’t it? Allegra has constitutional rights, doesn’t she?” Mary was trying to control her outrage, but it wasn’t easy. “You just can’t take somebody and put them in a mental hospital because you disagree with what they’re doing.”

  “Maybe you can, if she’s a minor.”

  “If that’s true, then this is one of the times that the law is an ass.”

  “Mare, chill.” Judy raised a palm. “These are her parents, and they love her. They think they’re doing the right thing for their kid, who has a history of depression.”

  “But committing her? That’s kind of extreme.”

  “If she needs the help, it isn’t. We don’t have all the facts.”

  “Then ask yourself this—why now? She’s been home for almost a month, but now they decided to put her away?” Mary felt a new wave of anger. The cab wasn’t making forward progress, which didn’t help, and she heard honking behind them. “We didn’t drop the case, so they pulled out the trump card. It’s like a chess game, and they just took the queen.”

  “You’re mixing metaphors.”

  “Sue me.” Mary thought a minute, simmering. “Generally the law is that you can’t be civilly committed unless you’re a danger to yourself or others. Allegra is neither.”

  “But mental health law is a specialized field, I know. I edited an article on it for our law review.”

  “What was the gist?”

  “That was ages ago and under California law, I’m not sure what Pennsylvania law is. There has to be a statute. Stand by.” Judy reached into her purse, pulled out her iPhone, and started tapping the touch screen. “Look at me, reduced to Googling ‘Mental Health Act and minors in Pennsylvania.’ Legal research isn’t supposed to be this easy.”

  “Whatever works.” Mary slid her hand in her blazer pocket, pulled out her BlackBerry, and scrolled through the phone log until she reached John Gardner, then pressed Call. “I’m calling her father. He called me, and his cell number
is still in the phone. I want to know what’s going on and tell him we’re not going to let him do this to her.”

  “Mary, hang on a sec.” Judy kept pressing buttons on her iPhone, frowning at the small screen. “We don’t know her legal rights yet.”

  “Then I’ll just yell at him, like Bennie would have.” Mary cheered at the very notion. She was turning into a badass before her own eyes. Maybe it had been in her all along, if she had somebody like Allegra to fight for. “You know what they say, ‘When you have the law, argue the law. When you have the facts, argue the facts. When you don’t have either, pound the table.’”

  Judy laughed, surprised. “You’re on fire, girl.”

  “You’re damn right I am. John Gardner is a bully, and he’s bullying his own daughter.” Mary listened to the call ringing in her ear. “I bet he doesn’t pick up, the coward.”

  “Hey, he’s represented by Patel. We’re supposed to call Patel.”

  “Ask me if I care. Allegra is our client. Did he pick up a phone to call us?” Mary felt her blood pounding in her temples. “What did they do to that poor kid, anyway? Did they handcuff her? Put her in a straitjacket? That’s appalling.”

  Judy didn’t look up. “If he doesn’t answer, leave a nice message. Remember, you’re a professional.”

  “What were they thinking?” Mary gritted her teeth as the call kept ringing. “She’s trying to get answers to some questions she’s been wondering about for a long time, her own sister’s murder. Isn’t she entitled to that?”

  “Evidently, no.” Judy looked up from her iPhone screen with a frown. “Something called Act 147 establishes the statutory rights for minors and parents to mental health treatment in Pennsylvania.”

  “Okay. Wait. Hold on, I’ll put it on speaker.” Mary pressed the button for the speakerphone, and they both listened as the call stopped ringing and John Gardner’s voice came on saying curtly, “John Gardner, Gardner Group, please leave a message.”

  Judy’s eyes flared, a calming blue. “Be nice,” she whispered.