by B R Snow
“New York,” Detective Williams said. “She’s an art history professor. And she’s also a consultant to some of the galleries in the City.”
We watched as they headed inside. Moments later, Lacey’s SUV came to a stop in front of the house. Lacey hopped out and pulled the hood of her rain slicker up as she raced to the front steps. When she reached the porch, she lowered the hood. I glanced over at the Chief who had the binoculars on her.
“How does she look?” I said.
“Nervous.”
“She probably can’t wait to hear what Peters left her,” Detective Williams said.
“Or she’s nervous about being in the same room with the wife,” I said as I watched Lacey head inside.
We sat in silence for another few minutes until a sleek Mercedes came to a stop behind Lacey’s vehicle.
“Nice car,” the Chief said.
“That’s the S65,” I said. “My mom has been talking about getting one.”
“What the heck is she going to do with another car?” the Chief said.
“Rhetorical, right?”
“She keeps it up, she’s going to have to build a new garage,” the Chief said. “But it sure is a nice set of wheels. How much do they go for?”
“More than your house,” I said, spotting another car arriving. “That looks like a rental.”
“It does,” Detective Williams said. “It must be Clarissa George.”
I watched as the woman climbed out of her car and raced for the house. The driver of the Mercedes also got out and jogged down the sidewalk. He bounded up the steps and extended his hand to the woman named Clarissa. I glanced over at the Chief who had the binoculars on them.
“Did that look like a handshake between two people who’d never met?” I said.
“It did,” Chief Abrams said, nodding. He glanced over his shoulder into the backseat. “What did you find out about those two?”
“At one point, the woman was Peters’ assistant. Or still is. Or was until…” Detective Williams said. “Well, you know.”
“Got it.”
“The guy is Charles Howard. A bit of a mystery man. He’s an entrepreneur. You know, investor type who dabbles in startups.”
“What sort of companies does he invest in?” I said.
“Tech. Biomed. Stuff like that,” Detective Williams said.
“Why the heck would he be interested in Peters’ work with wolves?” I said.
“Who knows?” Detective Williams said with a shrug. “That’s all of them, right?”
“It is,” I said, adjusting the volume on the microphone.
“I can’t wait to hear how Larry plays this,” Detective Williams said with a laugh.
“He didn’t do it,” I said, staring at the detective through the rear-view mirror.
“Don’t start,” the Chief said, glancing back and forth at both of us. “I can’t listen to you two debate it again.”
“What do you want to bet?” Detective Williams said.
“A bag of bite-sized.”
“You’re on,” he said. “There’s no way the lawyer didn’t do it.”
“We’ll see.”
Then we heard Larry the Loser’s voice clear as day through our earpieces.
“I’d like to thank all of you for coming in on such a crappy day,” the lawyer said. “And I’d like to extend my sincere condolences for your loss. Jeremy was a truly unique individual, and we’re all worse off with his tragic passing.”
“Unique?” a woman’s voice said.
“That’s how I would describe him, Mrs. Peters,” Larry said softly.
“Call me Charlotte. My days of being called Mrs. Peters are officially over.”
“Harsh,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” the Chief said. “So much for mourning her dead husband.”
“I’m sorry,” Lacey said. “But could we do introductions?”
“Of course,” Larry said. “I’m so sorry. I assumed you all knew each other.” We heard him clear his throat. “This is Charlotte Peters. Jeremy’s wife. To her right is Lacey Adams.”
“The trollop he was with before he dumped you to start up with that one,” Charlotte said.
“Trollop?” Lacey said, her voice rising.
“You heard me,” Charlotte said. “Trollop one, meet trollop number two.”
“There’s no need for that, Charlotte,” a man said. “I’m Peter. Jeremy’s brother.”
“Peter Peters?” I said, surprised. “As in pumpkin eater?”
“Man, his parents were cruel,” the Chief said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Peter,” Lacey said. “Jeremy always spoke fondly of you.”
“Not a chance,” Peter said with a laugh. “And call me P-Squared.”
“P-Squared?” Lacey said.
“It’s what all my friends call me,” he said. “You know, a play on my double name.”
“Okay,” Lacey said, obviously confused. “I’m Lacey.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Clarissa George. Jeremy’s research assistant.”
“So, you’re the one,” the brother said.
“She is indeed,” Charlotte said with a laugh. “What do you think, P-Squared? Is trollop two an upgrade over version one, or not?”
“Charlotte, please,” the brother said. “Hi, I’m Jeremy’s brother, Peter.”
“Yes, I heard. I’ve been following along. I’m Charles Howard. It’s nice to meet you. All of you.”
“How did you know my brother?”
“I was one of his investors.”
“You invested in his wolf research?” Lacey said.
“Of course,” Charles Howard said.
“He’s lying,” I whispered.
“He certainly is,” Detective Williams said.
“Charles, it’s been a long time. And I must say it is nice seeing you,” Charlotte said. “But I must ask. What on earth could Jeremy possibly have left you in his will?”
“I don’t have a clue, Charlotte,” Charles said. “The lawyer called my office and said I should be here for the reading. So, here I am. And I’m on a tight schedule. Can we get on with it?”
“Of course,” Larry said, then cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to mail you a copy of the will before today. But things happened so fast, I thought I’d just wait. Let me pass these out.”
We heard the sound of papers being shuffled, and a long silence ensued.
“What you have in front of you is the will itself,” Larry said eventually. “It outlines Jeremy’s general intentions and lists the beneficiaries. All the beneficiaries are listed on page one. The document referenced on page two, known as Schedule A, details how Jeremy’s assets are to be distributed. That document, the sole copy, has been sealed and locked in my safe since the day it was drawn up. As soon as you’re ready, I will read it to you, per Jeremy’s instructions.”
“When was this drawn up?” Charlotte said.
“The date is on the last page next to the signatures,” Larry said.
“What are you trying to pull here?” Charlotte said.
“I’m sorry,” Larry said. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”
“Then let me be perfectly clear,” Charlotte said. “How was it possible for you to draft the will?”
“It was really quite simple,” Larry said, confused. “I use a standard template. All we needed to do was enter the information as dictated by Jeremy.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Are you really this dumb or just acting to throw us off the scent?”
“Mrs. Peters…uh, Charlotte,” Larry said, on the defensive. “I really don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“How could you draft the will while also being listed as one of the beneficiaries?”
“What?” Larry whispered.
“Isn’t that your name on the top of page two?” Charlotte said.
A lengthy silence ensued, followed by Larry’s nervous cough
.
“How is this possible?” Larry said. “I swear. I had no idea I was listed as a beneficiary.”
“But you drew up the document, right?” P-Squared said.
“I did. But there was never a mention of me being one of the beneficiaries. I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Beautiful,” Charles Howard said, obviously bemused by what he was hearing.
“If Larry’s lying, he’s really good at it,” I said.
“Even for a lawyer,” Chief Abrams said.
“Shhh,” Detective Williams said, leaning forward and listening closely to the conversation.
“This is weird,” Clarissa said. “How could you not know you were one of the beneficiaries?”
“But I’m not one of the beneficiaries,” Larry said, his voice quivering like a young kid caught in the act.
“Did you hear that?” the Chief said.
“What?” I said, cocking my head.
“That was the sound of Larry’s legal career being flushed down the toilet.”
“I told you he didn’t do it,” I said, glancing into the backseat.
“Not so fast,” Detective Williams said. “Let’s see how it plays out.”
“Now what?” P-Squared said.
“I guess we should hear how Jeremy wanted his assets distributed,” Charles Howard said.
“This oughta be good,” Charlotte said, the contempt in her voice unmistakable.
We heard the sound of a chair being pushed back from the table and the murmur of whispered table talk. Moments later, we heard someone sit back down.
“This is the envelope containing Schedule A,” Jeremy said. “As you can see, the seal is unbroken.”
“Like that would have been a problem to pull off,” Charlotte said. “Go ahead, read it.”
We heard the sound of an envelope being opened and, once again, Larry cleared his throat before speaking.
“Item one. To my wife, Charlotte, I leave our home in New York and all personal belongings contained therein.”
“You live in the City?” Clarissa said.
“Yeah,” Charlotte said. “It’s a three-story brownstone in Brooklyn.”
“Nice,” Clarissa said.
“Two mortgages and a property tax bill that could choke a horse,” Charlotte snapped. “Yeah, real nice. What else did he leave me?”
“Uh…nothing,” Larry said.
“Unbelievable,” she said.
“Should I continue?”
“Why stop now?” Charlotte said.
“Item two. To my brother, Peter, an inveterate gambler who continues to go through life with no sense of purpose or direction, I leave the sum of one thousand dollars. It is my sincere hope he uses the money on some meaningless game of chance. I also hope he loses it immediately. May it serve as a reminder to him of a life thrown away.”
“A thousand bucks?” P-Squared said. “I came all this way to hear that? Thanks a lot, brother.”
“You think you got problems?” Charlotte said. “Try paying my mortgage for a month. Get on with this charade.”
“Item three. To my current research assistant, Clarissa George, I leave my signed, first-edition copy of Charles Darwin’s, On the Origin of Species.”
“Wow,” Clarissa said.
“He left you a book?” P-Squared said, laughing. “Now, I don’t feel so bad.”
“You idiot,” Charlotte said. “That book has to be worth a hundred grand.”
“What?” P-Squared said. “What it’s printed on? Hundreds?”
“I don’t believe it,” Clarissa said.
“Too bad she’s never going to get her hands on it,” I said.
“Yeah, the wife’s lawyer is going to have a field day with this,” Detective Williams said.
“Item four,” Larry said, after clearing his throat again. “To my former assistant, Lacey Adams, I leave all my research into wolf-hybrids. She’s the only person who ever fully understood what I was trying to achieve, and I hope with all my heart that she will continue to pursue my research goals. To that end, I also leave her Cabot Lodge to use as a home for my beloved hybrids where she can carry out her work. The annual operating costs of the research, along with the costs required to maintain Cabot Lodge, are to be paid from my general operating account.”
“What?” Lacey said.
“You heard the man,” Charlotte snapped. “You get to play with the animals. Whatever the heck they are.”
“But I never said I understood or appreciated what he was trying to do,” Lacey said, protesting. “In fact, I always hated what he was doing.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Charles Howard. “But what the heck is Cabot Lodge?”
“It’s some old hunting lodge Jeremy inherited from his old man,” Charlotte said. “I think it’s around here somewhere. Apparently, the place is in ruins.”
“Actually, it’s not,” Lacey said. “It’s very nice.”
“Interesting. I assume you two used to use it as a love nest?” Charlotte said.
“We did not,” Lacey snapped. “In fact, I’d never been there until a few days ago.”
“What were you doing there?” Charlotte said.
“Trying to track down one of Jeremy’s dogs. I’m staying there at the moment.”
“Doing what?” Charlotte said.
“Looking after his hybrids, what else?”
“Well, don’t get used to it,” Charlotte said. “As soon as I get a handle on what this shyster is trying to pull, you’ll be out of there. And all those horrid creatures will be put down.”
“Put down? Over my dead body,” Lacey said.
“Good girl,” I said, nodding.
“Can we please get this over with?” Charles Howard said.
“We’re almost done,” Larry said. “There’s just one more item to go.” He cleared his throat again then continued. “Item five. This deals with the management and disbursement of funds from Jeremy’s general operating account.”
“Did you get a chance to look into that account yet?” I said to Detective Williams.
“We did. There’s almost eight million in it.”
“Geez,” I grunted.
“Okay, if I could have your attention, I’ll read the final item,” Larry said. “Oh, my word. What the heck?”
“What is it now?” Charlotte said.
“There must be some sort of mistake,” Larry said. “This item was supposed to have your name next to it.”
“Mine?” Charles Howard said. “Was?”
“Yes,” Larry said, apparently gulping down a large drink of water. “Item five. To my new friend and attorney, Lawrence Lamplighter, I leave full control of the management and disbursement of funds from my general operating account. Unless otherwise outlined in this, my last will and testament, Mr. Lamplighter has sole discretion regarding how funds from this account shall be used.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Charlotte said. “Did you really think you were going to get away with this?”
“I’m as surprised as you are, Charlotte. You have to believe me. I had no idea about any of this.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Charlotte said. “This will isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. And you, my shyster friend, have spent your last days as a lawyer.”
“But he’s just starting his days as a felon,” I whispered.
“I thought you were convinced he didn’t do it,” Detective Williams said.
“I am,” I said through the rear-view mirror. “But how the heck is Larry going to beat the murder charge? Houdini couldn’t get out of this one.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Chief Abrams said. “Man, whoever is setting Larry up sure did a good job. This thing looks airtight.”
“I don’t believe it,” Larry said. “Jeremy specifically named Charles as the trustee of those funds.”
“Him?” Charlotte said. “Why him?”
“I assume because it’s pretty much my money,” Charles said.
&n
bsp; “How much money are we talking about?” Charlotte said.
“I have no idea,” Larry said. “Jeremy wouldn’t talk about it.”
“Do you know?” Charlotte said.
“No, I don’t have a clue,” Charles said. “But unless Jeremy went on a recent spending spree, it’s somewhere in the millions.”
“This isn’t going to stand,” Charlotte said. “I’m going to call my lawyer. And you’re gonna wish you’d decided to become a garbage collector by the time this is over.”
“This isn’t possible,” Larry said.
“It should be easy enough to check,” Charles said.
“How’s that?” Charlotte said.
“We just need to talk to the person who witnessed the signing,” he said.
“Althea,” Larry whispered.
“I assume you have her phone number,” Charles said.
“She recently left the area,” Larry said. “And I haven’t been able to get in touch with her.”
“I’m sure the police will be able to track her down,” Charlotte said, then exhaled loudly. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to call my lawyer. Then we’re going to sit down later today and discuss what he recommends. Is there another place we could meet? Somewhere other than this rathole.”
“Hey,” Larry said, protesting. “What’s wrong with my office?”
“I’m surprised you even have to ask,” Charlotte said.
“C’s,” Lacey said softly. “It’s a local restaurant.”
“Perfect,” I whispered.
“Yeah, that was well done,” the Chief said.
“That should work,” Charlotte said. “Seven o’clock. By then, I should have a better idea about who I’m going to sue. Or send to jail.”
“What now?” I said to Detective Williams.
“Well, we go to dinner tonight,” he said. “And at some point in the evening, I’ll swing by their table and let them know I’d like all of them to stick around for a few days.”
“Any idea who it might be?” I said.
“Right now, I’m leaning toward the wife,” he said.
“Yeah, me too,” the Chief said.
I frowned and gave it some thought.
“It seems too easy,” I said, then glanced in the rear-view mirror. “You convinced now that Larry didn’t do it?”
“Don’t gloat,” Detective Williams said with a laugh. “You do know that you’re a really bad winner.”
