Deadly Legacy (A Carmedy & Garrett Mystery)

by Bruce, Alison

  It wasn't that they met that often. She was away at university, then the Police Academy. When she was in town, she arranged to meet her father away from the office. Joe mentioned, once or twice, that she used to hang out with him more, accompany him to business socials. She didn't seem to have time for that anymore. Jake pointed out that maybe she would go if she knew he wasn't going to be there. Joe dismissed that.

  "Even if that were true, it's more important you be there."

  "For the business?"

  Joe laughed. "Yes, and because you need more practice schmoozing."

  Jake smiled at that memory. Then he frowned. He had accepted Joe's word. In retrospect, he thought he made a mistake. He should have confronted Kate Garrett years ago, found out what terrible thing he had done and made it right somehow.

  Of course, a niggling little voice pointed out, it wasn't too late. Joe was gone, but Kate was sitting there, her face pale, a tear trickling down her cheek. Then she gave an unromantic snuffle, wetter than a sniffle, not as noisy as a snort. Taught by Joe to always be prepared for this sort of thing, Jake handed her a tissue. She blew her nose with reasonable discretion, giving him a wan smile of thanks.

  Jake fought the urge to say something trite or even charming. He just smiled in return. Whatever he was going to do or say to her, this wasn't the day for it.

  25

  Cursing herself for crying in a public place, Kate tried to regain what she felt was her lost composure.

  She could hear her mother crying. A quick glance assured her that David was taking care of things. One row back, Nissa Ilko was also crying in a restrained way. Were the tears for her father, Kate wondered, or Felix Proctor? Or both?

  As far as she knew, Jane Osgoode was absent. Mesdames Gage and Proctor were present, however. Kate remembered seeing them on her way down the aisle. Neither knew her father well and, appropriately, they sat in the pews near the back. Jane had been a close friend. Yet, it was Nissa Ilko who nabbed a second row seat. Interesting.

  Leon Eldridge was conspicuously present. He was in a wheelchair, still weak from his brush with death. In the foyer, Kate had overheard him telling his former co-workers the poison that killed Felix was meant for him, and if he had been drinking as much that evening as his old friend, he would have died, too.

  Old friend! I don't think so, Kate thought. Former protégée, perhaps.

  The Leon Eldridge Kate had met years ago wouldn't have dissembled like that. He would have remained aloof, offering no comment. Still, she reasoned, the old Eldridge had been forced to retire from a job he loved. The new one was a successful entrepreneur. As her father was wont to point out, total honesty isn't good for business.

  Finally the service was over and it was time for the recessional. Kate could handle this. She had never been a pallbearer before, but she had seen it done and had learned the drill at the Academy. Carmedy was at her elbow again, helping her up. She didn't need it this time. Still, she appreciated his concern. Maybe they could work together as her father had always intended.

  Once the coffin was in the hearse, an on-duty constable drew the chief away. As soon as the constable left, she moved in, ready to get the scoop.

  "What's up, Chief?"

  He signalled Rudra to join them. Ravensburg followed. Xavier tailed him. Valerio and Carmedy hovered at the edge of the group.

  "Francis Rossini was found dead in an alley this morning. Cause of death is blunt force trauma."

  "One of his drug connections?" asked Rudra.

  "Possibly." Thorsen spread his hands in an "anybody's guess" gesture.

  Carmedy suggested, "It could be connected to Moonlight Games."

  "Maybe he just pissed someone off," Valerio said. "I found him to be an obnoxious little bugger."

  The chief shrugged. "All I know is the Police Services Chair and the Mayor are not going to be happy about this. In one week, we have had four murders. It's going to throw off the curve." He sighed. "We'll deal with it all this afternoon. We have another duty right now."

  The burial service wasn't as bad as Kate expected.

  "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. In sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life."

  It didn't matter that she had doubts about resurrection and she wasn't sure eternal life was all that great a blessing, the words were familiar and comforting.

  She saw Ike on the periphery and smiled. She knew he wouldn't want her approaching him. Even if Eldridge wasn't present, Ike was too scared. In a way, this made Ike's gesture even more touching. He couldn't have known in advance that Eldridge would be too tired to go to the cemetery.

  If one could say they had a favourite part of a funeral, this was Kate's. The assembly was smaller. The cold air was bracing. She was only sorry she couldn't stay after everyone else had gone. There was yet another duty ahead.

  Despite the adventures of the night before, the Helios managed to cater an impressive spread, which was arranged on the dining room table at the Kessler home. David and her mother offered to host the après-funeral event since neither Kate's home nor Joe's flat were appropriate. One of her mother's friends had opened up the house for those who didn't choose to go to the cemetery. Ross Campbell was dug into a corner, a beer in one hand and his oxygen mask in the other. He was the centre of a small crowd of old cronies and fascinated strangers. He beckoned his daughter over as she came through the door with Kate. As many of those fascinated strangers were members of her theatre group, Kate joined her.

  "Kate!"

  A statuesque, flamboyantly dressed woman broke away from the group to greet Kate with a dramatic hug. This was followed by less physical greetings from a half dozen other people who were not quite as theatrical, still obviously part of the big woman's entourage.

  "Thanks for coming, Marcella, guys. How are you, Uncle Ross?"

  "I am just fine, Katie girl," said her second godfather. "I'm put out your father made a liar of me. Back when I had my stroke, he said I'd outlive everyone. I told him I wouldn't outlive him, because if bullets and a bad heart couldn't kill him, nothing would."

  She smiled uncertainly.

  "You need a drink," said Marcella, pulling her away. "And I need to avoid my brother—he always gets so stuffy when he's in uniform."

  Kate looked over her shoulder and saw Vince was exchanging greetings with her mother.

  "Come!" Marcella said, herding Kate toward the kitchen where David was acting bartender at the kitchen counter. Assisting him at the espresso maker was Andrea Thorsen.

  Andrea poured milk into a steaming jug. "Can I make you something, Kate?"

  "I think she needs something stronger than coffee," said Marcella.

  "Actually, I would love a latte with a shot of Kailua."

  Marcella made a lip smacking noise. "That sounds delicious! Make it two. Thanks, honey." Marcella turned back to Kate. "Now—"

  Here it came, the question Kate hated. She had already heard it a hundred times today.

  "—will you be trying out for Arms and the Man? Seeing you today gave me a brilliant idea."

  Andrea stifled a giggle and even David had to suppress a grin. Kate was just glad that her friend wasn't going to ask "How are you?"

  Marcella outlined her brilliant idea for transposing the male and female roles in Shaw's play to make use of the fact there were always more women than there were parts for women.

  Kate assured her she'd consider auditioning. There was no point telling Marcella she probably wouldn't have the time. Marcella was as disappointed that Kate had chosen police work over theatre as her brother was proud. She might have continued her campaign, but there were others who wanted to pay more conventional respects to Joe's daughter.

  "How are you holding up?" "I'm managing."

  "Isn't it terrible?" "Yes."

  "I can just imagine..."

  No, you can't.

  Her first cousin, Matt, stepped up with messages of condolence from his father and sister.

  "Dad c
ouldn't make the trip," Matt explained. "Or wouldn't, I'm not sure. Of course, he's concerned about you. I only wish our fathers had the chance to settle their differences."

  Kate nodded. "It's really a shame they were both so stubborn. Do you know what their differences were? I never did."

  Matt shook his head.

  They fell into an awkward silence.

  "Mary's ship is in the Indian Ocean," Matt said suddenly, referring to his sister who was in the Navy. "I'm sure she would have come if she could."

  "Maybe you could give me her e-address," Kate said politely, "and yours, too, of course. It's silly for us to be estranged." Then, struggling to dredge up some genuine emotion, she added, "Tell my uncle I appreciate his concern and give him my condolences. Whatever was between them, he's lost his brother and that can't be easy."

  Matt responded with a quick hug.

  "I'm glad I came. Thank you."

  That awkward duty over, Kate took refuge in a huddle of police officers talking shop. Inevitably the conversation got around to the Rossini murder.

  "Prescription drugs have been making their way to the street for decades," said one.

  "True," said another, "but they usually trickle onto the street. This guy had a steady flow. I think he could have flooded the market—he was undercutting the illicit producers."

  "Maybe one of them killed him."

  "If that were the case, it would have been a statement kill. Rossini was bludgeoned to death in a back alley. No message. Just a bloody pulp."

  "That's a message."

  This lead to a debate on what constituted a statement kill in various circles. At this point, her mother appeared. Ever the congenial host, she suggested the conversation might be better pursued outside, far outside. Then she gently reminded Kate she had more relations who needed meeting and greeting.

  Just in time, salvation came in the guise of a one-man Viking invasion. The chief arrived to gather up his troops.

  "Emma," he said, "you have gone above and beyond for Joe. I'm sorry I couldn't have been here sooner, more sorry that I have to take Kate away from you. Maggie and the girls will be staying, of course, but another duty calls."

  Later he added for Kate's ears only, "I will bring home roses and pizza for my lovely ladies, in thanks for holding the fort and letting us escape."

  It was all Kate could do not to giggle.

  Carmedy and Valerio were waiting for them out front. Both had found a chance to change out of their dress uniforms. Kate couldn't wait to do the same. Valerio held the front passenger door of the chief's HUV for her. Bereavement had its privileges.

  "Show her the evening news," said the chief when they were all settled.

  Valerio handed her his eCom. On the screen was the front page of the e-news. The headline was, 'Triple Murder Rocks City.' Underneath was a secondary header stating, 'Police investigation floundering.'

  "Skim the article," Valerio said. "You'll see a familiar name."

  Kate skimmed, read and then muttered a short string of expletives before reading the offending passage aloud.

  "Risk consultant Leon Eldridge states that he warned the police this would happen. 'Someone has been stalking me for weeks now. The police didn't take me seriously. If only I knew they were also after Delano Gage and Felix Proctor, I would have been more insistent.' Eldridge, Gage and Proctor have been involved in several insurance investigations..." Kate shook her head. "He's certainly enjoying his fifteen minutes of fame, isn't he?"

  Thorsen grunted. "I'm not enjoying it. Things are bad enough without this guy is turning it into a conspiracy."

  "Could it be a conspiracy?" asked Valerio.

  "The C-word is forbudt, nixed, not to be brought up outside this group unless incontrovertibly proven."

  He heaved a sigh. "It's just as likely Proctor murdered Gage and arranged a public suicide. The lab says the drugs in the wine were only a small part of what affected Proctor. A sedative was also found in his wine glass that was not in the bottle. There were more drugs in his system partially metabolised. It'll take them a while to figure out the timeline."

  "So Eldridge was the victim of bad luck, not an attack," Valerio concluded.

  "Our bad luck that Proctor died, not Eldridge," said the chief, regaining some of his sense of humour.

  "Luck is something you make, not taken for granted," Joe whispered in his daughter's mind.

  26

  Jake wasn't surprised when Kate announced she wasn't ready to face Eldridge. He was pretty sure that Thorsen had only pulled her away from the party to rescue her from well-meaning relatives. He remembered his parents' funeral. His older relatives were all tears and clinging hugs. His cousins were only patient with the procedure to a point, then they wanted to go play. In truth, so did he. He was only six and he had not yet grasped that death was forever.

  Thorsen took Kate home and walked her to the door. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Suddenly the big, tough Chief of Detectives looked more like an overgrown teddy bear as too short arms tried to engulf him in a hug.

  Jake turned away. Valerio, he noted, was studying his fingernails.

  The vehicle lurched as Thorsen plunked down on his seat sideways. For a moment, he sat, knuckling his eyes. Eventually he swung his legs around and manoeuvred himself behind the wheel. Neither Jake nor Valerio said anything until the chief spoke first.

  "Tomorrow night," he said eventually, "there will be a visitation at the funeral home for Delano Gage. You two should check it out. Are you any closer to narrowing down the suspects?"

  "No, sir," said Valerio, "There are too many potential suspects and no obvious ones. We can't find anyone who is better off with Gage dead. The only one that might have been is Proctor and now he's dead. Gage has a lot of insurance beneficiaries, but, with the exception of his daughter, the purpose of the policies is to keep up, after death, support he was already giving."

  "Perhaps something or someone will pop out at you at the visitation. In the meantime, I believe you have some statements to cross-check."

  Jake wasn't anxious to go back to the office, so he didn't object when Valerio suggested they work together in one of the briefing rooms at HQ. They could spread out their hard-copies and use the wall screens, something Garrett Investigations lacked. En route he got an energy drink out of the vending machine, thought a moment, and made it two. He had a feeling it was going to be a long afternoon.

  By seven, the table was cleared of paper. Everything was on the walls. A paper trail of notes and charts showed where the family members were and who could corroborate their whereabouts. The collage spread across two walls. A third showed similar information for business associates. The wall of screens summarized the information, with the central big screen charting suspects and motives. In the middle of it all, the table now held an extra large pizza box and a couple of bottles of beer.

  They might be spinning their wheels on the case, Jake thought, but at least we're on a first-name basis—a familiarity he'd never heard Miss Kate use, though she'd known Vincent Valerio most of her life.

  "So, we can now prove what we knew two days ago," Vince said, waving a pizza slice at the collected information. "Gage wasn't a saint, but he was worth more to the world alive than dead. Money wasn't the motive. Of the numerous possible suspects who might have had a personal grudge against Gage, only the current wife, daughter and live-in had the opportunity to kill him, so far as we know."

  "Do we know how the drugs were delivered?"

  "Not yet. There are too many possibilities and the lab is testing them all. They've got two households to sift through. If it was Glynis or Felix, evidence might be found at the Proctor home. What we need is a bit of luck. I suppose we can look at Gage's daily routine again and cross-match."

  Jake keyed an instruction into the screen's control panel and a new chart appeared on the main screen.

  "I organized the information last night," he explained. "Couldn't sleep."

  Vince helped himself t
o a third piece of pizza. "Anything jump out?"

  "He was a vain guy. He visited the barber twice a week for a trim, shave and facial. Had his teeth cleaned professionally once a month."

  "I'd do that if it was covered." Vince wagged the pizza slice at Jake. "Taking care of yourself isn't vanity. Just because you don't care..."

  Jake tossed a napkin at him. "You might not like my fashion sense, but I take care of myself and I'm reasonably well-groomed. And I'm not a junk food junkie like you seem to be." He shook his head. "I can't see how Gage got anything done. Every morning he worked out on a step-master or rowing machine and drank a bottle of vitamin and electrolyte tonic, which I hear was the first thing eliminated as a source. This was followed by a hot shower, sauna and cold shower to tone the skin. Or so his man Zeigler claims. This would be followed by brushing, flossing and rinsing the teeth. Next came the shave and scalp massage, one of Zeigler's duties, and the application of face and body creams before getting dressed. Most nights he'd follow the same routine, including shaving before bed."

  "And yet he also managed to run a large corporation, a charitable foundation and have an active social life."

  "Maybe he didn't sleep," said Jake.

  "He didn't sleep with his wife." Vince paused, a finger upraised. "That is, they had separate bedrooms. According to Mrs. Gage, there was no pattern to when they would spend the night together. She says it was roughly half the time, maybe less. Zeigler corroborates this, adding that the couple had slept apart for three nights before Gage's murder."

  "If Zeigler and Mrs. Gage conspired to murder Gage, it wouldn't matter that there was no pattern. They would just choose a time when the couple were apart."

  "If Felix and Glynis Proctor conspired, or if they worked individually, they wouldn't know whether Gage would be with his wife or not. Without knowing how the drugs were delivered, we don't know if that's an issue or not." Vince yawned. "This tells me we might as well leave this until tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I've had enough for now."