Tiny
P.S.—Stay out of jail!
Up till then, Bob Smiley had successfully evaded a follow-up interview with either Tiny or Will. But Will decided to send a quick return e-mail to his detective, asking him to try to tie down the insurance agent one more time before trial.
Dr. Parker had aroused Will’s curiosity about Jason Bell Purdy. Perhaps Purdy had never gotten over his romantic interest in Mary Sue. Or perhaps there was something else.
Picking up the phone, Will glanced at the telephone number that Tiny had obtained for him, and began dialing Purdy’s corporate office in Atlanta.
After two layers of receptionists passed his call through, he was finally connected to Purdy’s appointment secretary. He said he wanted a meeting with Mr. Purdy as soon as possible in regard to Mary Sue Fellows.
She said she would check on that and call him back.
Wanting to clear his mind so he could start focusing on the final push of trial preparation, Will strolled down the dock and skipped a few rocks in the lake, which had calmed considerably since the day before. Since he didn’t expect a call back from Purdy’s office any time soon, the question then became, what stones had he yet to turn over?
But before he could answer that, the phone in the houseboat rang.
He ran in and picked it up. It was the appointment secretary calling back.
To Will’s surprise she indicated that he “was in great luck. Mr. Purdy is just finishing up a meeting at his home—and after that he has a small window open in his schedule. He will meet you there in two hours. Do you want directions to the Purdy mansion?”
After jotting down the directions, Will hung up and tried to call Fiona, but only connected to her voice mail. He then called his office to check in.
Hilda said she had last talked to Fiona right after Will had been released from jail.
“Yeah—I got a surprise visit from her in the hospital. Do you think she’ll still love me, now that I’m not just another pretty face?” Will said with a laugh.
“Oh, Will—when Jacki got back here she said you looked like you had rented out your face for a punching bag. But I don’t know why we are making a joke out of this,” she said, suddenly serious. “What happened to you was just plain ugly. And it could have been a tragedy.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Good thing I know how to handle you,” Hilda retorted. “Now here is something important. Mary Sue called here yesterday. She said she wanted to call you there at the houseboat today, and she is going to call me back today to confirm.”
“Tell her to call me in exactly five hours from now. I’m on my way to interview a guy by the name of Jason Bell Purdy. That should give me plenty of time to get back here.”
“Oh, isn’t that the fellow who is going to fill out the rest of the term of that Georgia senator who died?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“INN news last night.”
“Huh—that will be good to know for the interview. I’m glad you mentioned it,” Will responded. “And if you hear from Fiona before I do, tell her I’m trying to connect with her.”
“She’s en route back from the recording session today, flying into BWI airport. I think she made it just under the wire with the strike. If I hear from her, I’ll tell her.”
After about an hour-and-a-half drive through the Georgia countryside in the direction of Atlanta, Will located a sign arching over a private drive that came off a county trunk highway.
The black metal sign, ornately detailed with delicate scrollwork, contained one word in gold letters—“PURDY.”
A half-mile down a long driveway that was lined with peach blossom trees, Will encountered a guardhouse.
The security guard checked his ID, then made a call to the mansion. After a few minutes he waved Will through.
Will drove another mile through the green, rolling landscape. Several chestnut-colored horses grazed peacefully beyond the cleanly maintained black horse fence. Off in the distance he caught glimpses of an equestrian course.
As the mansion came into view, a black stretch limo, followed by a smaller limo, blew past him on their way out.
The mammoth white antebellum edifice was perched on a hill. Two huge columns on each side of the front entrance helped support a full porch wrapping around the second floor, all crowned by a fantail window on the third floor.
The front of the mansion was graced by a semicircular, redbrick drive-through.
Will pulled his car to the side of the road for a minute to take in the full view of this spectacular house that was sending his mind back to the past.
It brought back his memories of Generals’ Hill, the much smaller antebellum mansion that he and Audra, his artist wife, had purchased in Virginia. But theirs had been in disrepair. The couple had been halfway through the renovation when they’d separated. Against Will’s desires, Audra had moved to Georgetown. Shortly after that, she’d been found murdered in her apartment.
Will had never recovered enough from that to complete the work on the house. Instead, he’d spent several years immersed in self-pity, living alone at Generals’ Hill and drinking himself into an emotional abyss. He’d allowed his law practice to disintegrate and his personal life to hit bottom.
That was when Angus MacCameron had walked into his office. The unique issues in the preacher’s case had forced Will to come to grips with spiritual realities that he had, up to then, successfully avoided. Ultimately, his life was transformed by a divine encounter. At first, even his friend and several-year associate, Jacki Johnson, had doubted this. But the evidence for the complete spiritual renovation of his life had become undeniable.
And of course, that same lawsuit brought Fiona, Angus’ daughter, into Will’s life. That was a second kind of miracle.
But Generals’ Hill had not survived. It was burned to the ground in an act of arson, which had been committed by powerful enemies the attorney had created during his handling of the MacCameron case. And instead of trying to recreate the burned-down structure, Will had settled on building a large, rambling log house on the same spot.
Now, seeing the Purdy mansion as he sat in his idling car, Will felt old, powerful feelings emerge. He had not thought about Audra for quite some time. Fiona had totally eclipsed those memories, it seemed.
Until now. It was odd, he thought, how merely seeing this house could suddenly sweep the ghosts back into his head.
Reminding himself that he was there for Mary Sue Fellows, he pulled the car into the circle drive in front of the carved-oak double doors at the front of the mansion.
After parking, he strode up to the entrance and rapped the brass door knocker.
After a moment, Will could hear someone approaching. Footsteps were echoing and getting louder within the massive entranceway on the other side of the door.
44
THE IMMENSE DOUBLE DOOR OPENED. At first, Will was unable to see who was there.
He stepped into the vast marble-floored foyer. Two spiral staircases, one at each side, led to a second-story balcony. In the middle, there was a round, velvet settee with a stone figurine in the center that looked vaguely Roman.
Suddenly, from behind one of the doors, a figure stepped out.
Will had to keep himself from gasping. In front of him was a smiling young woman—pretty, blond, with crystal-blue eyes. She was laughing almost the same kind of quirky laugh that Will’s wife, Audra, would when she would tease him.
Though this young woman was not a complete likeness, her similarities to Audra were remarkable.
“I’m Suzanne Purdy Black. I’m Uncle Jason’s niece.” With that she thrust a slender hand into Will’s. Laying her other hand on Will’s other arm, she began gently leading him toward the end of the foyer.
“Won’t you come with me, Mr. Chambers? Uncle Jason’s going to be a couple of minutes—he’s been exercising. I’m just going to entertain you for a few moments out here in the sunroom, if that’s alright.”
Will was taken aback—and slightly embarrassed—by her forward approach, but he dutifully followed her to a large glass-enclosed sunroom that lay through several arched doorways, at the end of the house.
She seated Will on a padded rattan chair, still holding his hands.
Suzanne leaned close to his face and smiled. “Now I’ve got some iced tea over on the table and I’m going to fix you a glass right now. My, my, what happened to you? Your eyes are both black and you’ve got a nasty old bump on your nose. Did you get your nose broken, Mr. Chambers?”
Will tried to lean back in his chair and release her grip.
“Yes, I had a run-in with some bad folks.”
“Well, I’m sure they got the worst of it—you look like a man who can take care of himself.”
“Actually, I’m happy just to be conscious right now. But thanks for asking.”
“Well,” Suzanne said flirtatiously, “then that must have been a very, very unfair fight!” And with that she laughed, stood up straight, and tossed her hair back.
“Do you live here with your uncle?”
“Yes, off and on,” she said as she poured a glass of iced tea from a crystal pitcher on a glass table. “I dabble in art, and I come and go. Uncle Jason is sort of a replacement father for me. There’s always a place for me here in the mansion.”
“Did you say you were an artist?”
“Yes,” Suzanne said, flashing a wide smile, “do you like art?”
“I used to,” Will replied, staring at Suzanne’s pretty face and trying to shake the feeling that there was a connection, somehow, between his life and Suzanne’s.
He took a few sips from his glass and then asked, “Is your uncle going to be long?”
“Oh, with Uncle Jason you never can tell! Why—don’t you like talking with me?”
“It’s just that I have some business with your uncle.”
“Everyone has business with Uncle Jason! And now that he’s going to be the newest senator from the state of Georgia…well, I’m sure he’s going to be busier than ever!”
“You must be very proud of your uncle.”
“Of course, but do you know what he told me this morning?”
“No, what did he say?” Will asked.
“Mr. Chambers—may I call you Will? Well, Uncle Jason said I don’t look like I’m twenty-five years old. Do you think I look twenty-five years old? Uncle Jason is always joking and saying that I look like I’m much younger than that. But I don’t want to look younger than that! I’m a grown woman. What do you think?”
“I’ve never been very good at guessing ages.”
“You know what—neither am I!” Suzanne said with a laugh. “Now take you for example, Will—I suppose you are older than me by several years but I’ve always said that age really doesn’t matter. Besides, sometimes a man your age is so much more attractive—so much more mature and together, you know what I mean—so much more appealing than these boys I have to run around with. Particularly back here in Georgia when I visit Uncle Jason. By the way that reminds me of something—guess what?”
“What,” Will said, feeling increasingly embarrassed and wanting to extricate himself from Suzanne’s flirtations.
“There’s a wonderful party at the country club tonight—and I have absolutely no one to go there with. It’s for couples only—this is a very silly question to ask you, I really shouldn’t…”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t—”
“If you are absolutely doing nothing and are bored out of your mind, and if you would like to have a good time at the country club tonight, I would love to have a chaperone,” Suzanne said smiling.
“You said you were an artist?” Will asked, something having suddenly occurred to him.
“Well, I certainly did, and you asked me that already.”
“What is your medium?”
Suzanne gave a somewhat listless smile and cocked her head, “My what?”
“My wife was an artist. I’m just wondering what your medium is. Oil—acrylics—sculpture? What is it?” he went on.
“Oh, just about everything. I dabble in everything,” she replied.
“It sounds to me like you’d love the paintings of Stravinsky,” Will suggested.
“Oh, yes. I absolutely adore them!”
“On the other hand, I love listening to classical music as well,” Will said. “Cézanne is one of my favorite composers. How about you?”
“I can’t say that I’ve heard of him. But I’m sure his music is beautiful.”
There was an awkward silence as Suzanne struggled to continue her engaging smile.
“Suzanne, tell me something. Why did your Uncle Jason have you meet me at the door? I’m sure he’s got butlers and servants all over this mansion.”
After a few more moments of silence and a smile that was beginning to tighten around the corners of her mouth, she replied, “Well, some of the staff is off today. Besides, I thought it might be nice to meet you.”
“In other words, Uncle Jason thought it might be a nice idea for you to meet me.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Suzanne said, dropping her smile at last and throwing Will a concerned look.
That was when Jason Bell Purdy stepped into the room, slightly short of breath. He was in jogging shorts, jogging shoes, and a Princeton jersey with the sleeves cut off. A vintage Atlanta Braves baseball cap was on his head. He was sweating and smiling confidently.
“Hey there, Will Chambers. I’m Jason Bell Purdy—it’s great to meet you.” He approached Will quickly and gave him a strong handshake. “Forgive the exercise outfit, but I like to be informal when I’m holding meetings in my house. What do you think of the place? I just love this old mansion. I prefer to conduct meetings here whenever I can, rather than in downtown Atlanta.”
“It’s a beautiful place.” Will remarked. “Now if we could talk about a few things, then I’ll let you get on with your other business.”
Purdy smiled and agreed, and he dismissed Suzanne with a “Run along now.”
As she turned to leave, Will called to her. She whirled around quickly.
“It was good to meet you,” Will said. “And I thought you should know—Stravinsky’s not a painter, he’s a composer. And Cézanne is not a composer, he’s a world-famous painter.”
Suzanne Purdy Black flashed a final, flustered smile and then quickly exited the room.
Jason Bell Purdy led Will into a wood-paneled library. The two sat down across from each other in overstuffed chairs, and Will quickly got down to business.
“Mr. Purdy, I represent Mary Sue Fellows. I think you know something about her and her case.”
“Yes, I certainly do. Mary Sue and I go back a long way. As you probably know, I dated her for a while. She was the one that got away. Too bad. She’s a beautiful person and a very charming lady. Joe Fellows is a very lucky man.”
“And you found out about her case? And had a conversation with Dr. Parker, the pathologist at the Delphi hospital, about her legal situation?”
“Yes,” Purdy confirmed. “I learned about the problems that she was having with Social Services regarding Joshua. They seem to involve Joshua’s declining health. Social Services sounded very suspicious, and it sounded to me like they were not being very helpful to Mary Sue. So I thought I’d talk to Dr. Parker, who I knew had evaluated some of Joshua’s tests at the hospital.”
“How did you find out about Mary Sue’s ongoing dispute with Social Services?”
“Hey—I’m surprised she didn’t tell you, being your client and all. I learned it directly from her. She and I talked about it. In fact, she called me up and asked for my help.”
Will was thunderstruck. Mary Sue had never indicated that she’d talked about her case to anyone else, and certainly not Jason Bell Purdy. As Will tried to hide his surprise, the other man continued filling in the blanks.
“That family doctor had called Social Services because he said that Mary Sue
was not following his orders and that she had made some comments that sounded strange to him. He was worried about Joshua’s health. I knew that she was just the best mother in the world, so I thought maybe, with my influence, I could help straighten things out before they got out of control. That’s why I talked to Dr. Parker.”
“And what did he say to you?”
“I’ll tell you something, Mr. Chambers, by the time I talked to Dr. Parker, the cement was already dry on this deal. He told me that Social Services had talked to him and that he had evaluated the blood samples and had come to the conclusion there was some kind of poison in Joshua’s blood that only would have been there if someone had given it to him. I told him I thought Mary Sue was as pure as the driven snow—but he told me there was nothing they could do. He said they’d put together some evidence that made it look pretty clear Mary Sue had been poisoning her son, and they were going to go after her. I have to tell you, Mr. Chambers, that just broke my heart. It really did.”
“Do you know anything about the identity of the person who called in a report to Social Services accusing Mary Sue? You don’t know the name, do you?”
“Mr. Chambers, I haven’t the faintest idea what her name is or who she is.”
Will paused a minute, keeping his eyes riveted on Jason Bell Purdy.
“Who said it was a woman?”
“I thought you said it was a woman—but never mind, I simply haven’t got any information about that. Look, Mr. Chambers,” and with that Purdy leaned forward and pointed his finger directly at the attorney. “I have never doubted that Mary Sue Fellows is innocent, not once. And I have never done anything against her, but only tried to help her in this thing. And that is the absolute truth.”
Then Purdy narrowed his eyes and studied Will. “Why? What has she told you about me? I’m sure she will vouch for exactly what I just told you, right?”
“Sorry,” Will said, “what my client tells me is confidential. I can’t share that with you.”
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