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The Mentor

Page 33

by Rebecca Forster


  Tears flooding her eyes, arm raised to wipe her nose as she cried, Lauren looked ahead. Oh, God, she could have killed someone on the street, someone she didn’t see. Lauren cried harder and looked in her rearview mirror. She leaned close as if she could hurry the car along if she should suddenly find Allan running after her, holding her car, pulling her back. But Allan wasn’t near. He was standing in the street, far from dead. Lauren only glanced at him because there was something far more horrifying to look at.

  Lauren slowed, almost stopping the car. With one hand on the steering wheel she used the other to wipe at her eyes, hitting them hard with the back of her hand so that all the tears would be gone when she looked again at the egg-shaped, gray car that Allan drove. A car so like all the others, the way Damien’s homeboys said. Lauren set her foot on the gas. Her car careened around the corner as she headed to the freeway and safety.

  Even Allan had said all cars looked alike on the outside. He had told her it was what was inside that counted. Allan, of all people should know. He had mastered the art of camouflage.

  27

  “I’m so happy to see you. I’m so happy to be here.” Lauren kissed him hard. She threw her arms around Eli Warner and when he groaned, she backed away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was just so scared, Eli. He was coming at me like he wanted to kill me. It was the middle of the day. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “It’s okay. You just kind of hit one of those bruises hard.” He pushed her hair back. She’d never looked more beautiful and he wished there was time to tell her. “You okay now?” He held her face between his hands and kissed her when she nodded.

  “Yeah, I think so. Oh, Eli, I really hadn’t believed. Not really.” She talked the way people raised from the dead will. She wanted him to know about her near-death experience. “I just didn’t want to believe that Allan could do anything like that to me. But I guess if he can. He could have killed Wilson, couldn’t he? Do you think he’ll come here? Do you think he’ll come after us?”

  Eli shook his head, “No. He won’t do anything to you, and he doesn’t have the guts to come here. I don’t think he had the guts to kill Judge Caufeld face to face either.”

  “Oh, Eli. Wilson loved him so much.” Lauren’s head fell onto Eli’s shoulders and her own convulsed with silent sobs. He held her. He pulled her closer still.

  “I know. But now we have a lot to do. We’ve got to find out why, because we can’t do anything unless we know why. Okay?”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  “Go wash your face. Can you do that? Do you want something to eat or drink?”

  Lauren nodded. In the bathroom she did as he asked and washed her face, sticking her head out to ask for a clean shirt He handed her a long sleeved one that smelled like fresh starch. It engulfed her so she rolled up the sleeves and tied the tails at her waist then went back to where he was waiting. He was sitting on the couch. His bag was packed and near the door.

  “Are we going somewhere?”

  “To a friend’s for a few days. I’ve got Wilson’s financial records. My buddy’s an accountant. I think he can help us put some of the pieces together.”

  “I’ve got something, too.” Lauren fetched her purse. “Computer disks. Financial information on one, personal letters on the other. Both go way back. I tried to get some of the other things out of Wilson’s office, but Allan had cleaned it out.” Lauren sat beside him and handed over the disks.

  “Thanks. Feeling better?” He took her hand in his while he asked.

  “A little. Not really. How can I? Allan could be a murderer or at least a conspirator. And, if he is, does that mean Wilson did something that made Allan think he deserved to die? Does it mean that?”

  “I don’t know, Lauren. I can only try to find the answers.”

  “You’re the only one that cares to. Edie called Allan the minute I left. Barbara was ready to call security. She believed what they told her about me.”

  “I don’t know that’s true,” Eli said and let her hand go.

  “You weren’t there. You didn’t hear her.”

  “Whatever she said today, I think she changed her mind. Here. This arrived late this morning by messenger.” He wiggled it in front of her when she looked at him, a question in his eyes. The envelope was plain, but inside there was gold.

  “Oh, Eli. It’s her office calendar.”

  “There’s a note.”

  She read aloud, “It may not hold up in court, but I’d bet my life it’s as good as the judge’s own. Good luck. Barbara.” The color flooded back into her face. “She didn’t believe them.”

  “How could she?” Eli said softly before raising his eyebrows. “Now, if you don’t mind, on the outside chance anyone might come over here to give us another lesson in deportment, can we get our rears in gear?”

  “Sure. I’m ready.”

  Eli followed her down the stairs and out to his car. He only had one thought. He wasn’t sure he was ready for where they were headed.

  “Eli! Eli! Eli!”

  The decibel level rose with each screech of his name. Lauren was sure she’d find a seven-foot banshee when she got out of the car, instead it was a three-foot mite, her blonde hair serrated rather than cut, her face smeared with something green.

  “Annie. Annie. Annie!”

  Eli did his best to return the greeting but the hand at his jaw was a dead giveaway that the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. Unfortunately, Annie was not adept at reading the signs of pain in suffering adults. She threw herself at him, knee level. Eli looked to Lauren who raised her shoulders. This was new to her. The last time she’d interacted with a child was when she talked to herself when she was five. The little girl disappeared as quickly as she had appeared and Eli reached out for Lauren, more to support his aching body than anything. They hadn’t gone far up the walk when a horizontally imposing but vertically deprived man came out to greet them with equal joy.

  “Hey, my friend,” Eli called, abandoning Lauren for the other man’s gentle hug.

  “You look like you’ve been beat up,” the man said.

  “Perceptive as always. Lauren.” He held out his hand and pulled her into the circle. “This is Fred. Fred and I go way back. All the way to high school. A better friend no man could have.”

  “And a psychic, too.” Lauren laughed.

  “Nah, Eli called and told me what happened. You’ve come to the right place. We’ll get him fixed up in no time, maybe even see if we can come up with some kind of gruesome conspiracy and sell it to the movies.”

  Fred took their bags, and Lauren relinquished them happily. Inside, Annie popped about, there were new toys to show, tales to tell of school, kisses and hugs to administer. In between those wondrous moments, and while Fred was putting their things in Annie’s room, Eli managed to fill Lauren in. Fred’s wife had taken off with a thinner guy. She squeezed his hand acknowledging the sadness of it all. Her lips were sealed and her admiration for Fred and Annie intense.

  “Daddy cut my hair. I love my hair. Do you like it?” The last was directed to Lauren who seemed to make noises appropriate to the situation.

  The afternoon went, and the evening too. They feasted on real food. Fred managed steaks and salad, potatoes. Food, he said, to heal anything. Annie served the dessert, Oreos and ice cream. It wasn’t until eight—8:05, to be exact—that Annie suddenly and inexplicably stopped chattering and fell asleep. Fred put her in his room in her Barney sleeping bag and came back out rubbing his palms together.

  “Now, how about a little adult fun?” They followed Fred to a closed room down the hall, which, when opened, proved to be a haven of sorts. “My playroom,” Fred said with great pride.

  Paper, computations, e-mail messages and three computers comprised Fred’s idea of heaven. He and Eli seemed to know where to stand and where to sit. They were settled in no time. Eli passed over their disks then unpacked his paperwork, stacking it on the one free space Lauren could see; the top of a mini-re
frigerator. Lauren was on her own.

  “Here, Fred, I’ll take the one marked correspondence,” Lauren held out her hand, ready to work. “Which one of these things do you want me on?”

  “You can take the old warhorse over there. Better get a chair from the dining room though.”

  Lauren was dismissed, Eli was relegated to passing paperwork and Fred chatted up a storm while he worked. Keys clicked. He was fascinated by Wilson’s financial records on the disk.

  “This is easy. It’s an annuity. If you go way back—see here we’re looking at the latter part of 1985 and the early part of 1986. A year period in which money was paid in. Nothing pays out until about two years after the money’s been paid in and earned some interest.”

  “What kind of funds are you talking about?”

  “Total is one hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Eli said over his shoulder.

  Average payback on the investment is twelve and a half percent. So the judge wasn’t making a profit. He was handing out the interest as soon as it came in. He was giving it out quarterly to these people.” Fred pointed to the names that appeared after each payout.

  “Okay. So that buys us what?” Lauren led and Fred followed.

  “Nothing right now.” He smiled.

  Eli leaned back in his chair and stretched. Lauren saw him wince and then he smiled, too.

  “Too bad you don’t know who they are.”

  “Maybe we could just ask the person who’s writing the checks.”

  “That would be nice,” Lauren laughed. “Which haystack do you propose we look in for that information?”

  “Well, these documents were scanned from original statements. Look, there’s an initial after each payout. Same initial on the original deposits. Vanguard is the brokerage. I bet if Eli flashed his little badge, he could get them to tell him who they’ve been talking to all these years.”

  “That’s a possibility.” Eli grinned and the men high-fived their ingenuity. Lauren, on the other hand, was thoughtfully flipping through Barbara’s calendar.

  “I think the woman is on to something,” Fred laughed.

  “Could be.” Eli stood up then hunkered down beside her, a hand on the back of her chair. “What have you got?”

  “I think I’ve got the person who’s been handling the money, and if money was what made Allan crazy, then this is the trail we’re going to follow.”

  “And just where are we going to follow it to?”

  “Right back to Baldwin Hills, Eli. Right back to the scene of the crime. First thing in the morning.”

  “Maeve Samuels?”

  “Yes?”

  “We apologize for the early hour, but we need to talk to you.”

  “No need to apologize. I don’t sleep as much as I used to.” She was accommodating, even gracious, and she held the door unafraid of strangers as long as it was daylight.

  “I’m Eli Warner. This is Lauren Kingsley.” The woman’s eyes flicked to Lauren. She smiled.

  “Yes. I know. It’s nice to finally meet you.” The woman put her hand on Lauren’s arm. Her fingers were gnarled with arthritis. Lauren was glad she hadn’t offered to shake hands.

  “Do you know why we’re here?”

  “I suppose I do. I just wonder if you know why you are,” she said, and there was a touch of tragedy in her tone. “Won’t you come in?”

  “Thank you.” Eli went first, ever cautious of what might be found in new places. He looked around. The house was neat, the furniture in good repair. There was a picture of Maeve Samuels and Judge Caufeld at his swearing in. It was prominently displayed on the mantel along with pictures of children and weddings. Lauren made a beeline to the exhibit.

  “He was very young. This must have been when he was appointed to the Superior Court,” Lauren said.

  “Yes, it was.” Maeve sat on the sofa, using a cane to steady herself. “I’d known Wilson a good many years when he was killed. He died just where you were standing the other night when you had your troubles. That was you, wasn’t it?”

  Eli nodded and sat in the chair next to her.

  “Do you know who killed Judge Caufeld?”

  Maeve shook her head sadly, “I couldn’t swear to anything in court. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t call anyone. I don’t think it was that boy. He and his friends were too far away. The papers said the judge was shot at close range. They were more than half a block from Wilson. He was talking to someone else just before he died.”

  Lauren came back. Putting her hands on the back of Eli’s chair she considered Maeve Samuels. She was a handsome black woman, her gray hair coifed, her nails buffed. She wore a housedress, not slacks. It was as if Maeve had been frozen in time.

  “Did you know it was Wilson at the time?”

  Maeve turned her head and smiled, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Lauren. “You are so pretty. Wilson always said how pretty you were. And smart, too. I should have known it would be you who showed up here.” Maeve seemed to hold onto that thought, and then she remembered what the question was. “Yes, I knew it was Wilson out there. He came the same time, third Thursday of every month. But I never went further than the door. I need a new hip. Walking is kind of hard. And my eyes aren’t what they used to be and, heavens, neither is this place. This used to be the most beautiful neighborhood. Now it’s what it is. I haven’t the energy or the money to move. Where would I go?” She shook her head. “I haven’t offered you refreshments. Would you like something?” Eli and Lauren politely declined. “Then I’ll ask you a question. How did you find me?”

  “We found records of the Vanguard annuity. We saw your initials. Barbara, the judge’s secretary, she kept a duplicate calendar for the judge. Your name was there, once a month. A standing appointment.”

  “That’s a good job of sleuthing.”

  “The judge also kept records of all his correspondence. There were letters to you. Add the police report, the name of this street. It wasn’t hard after that.”

  “No, I suppose it wouldn’t have been hard to find me. I just thought it would be Allan coming here. I figured he was scared enough by now.”

  “Why, Mrs. Samuels? We know there was money trouble between the judge and Allan, but we don’t know what it was. I believe it had to do with some transactions in 1985 that...” Eli was on a roll. He was picking up speed when Maeve laughed and held up her hand.

  “Yes. I know,” she said and suddenly her voice sounded weary. “I wonder though, what will you do with the story once I give it to you?”

  “I suppose it depends on what it is.” Lauren came around Eli’s chair and sat next to Maeve on the couch. “I loved Wilson, Mrs. Samuels. Nothing will be the same for me if I don’t find out why he died and try to do something to bring his killer to justice. Can you understand?”

  “Oh, sure, honey, I understand. I thought about it, too. But what if, by doing that, you’re going to bring down the person who already paid the price. What if you bring down Wilson with what you find?”

  “Then that’s what will have to happen,” Lauren answered evenly.

  “All right, then. I’ll tell my story and you decide what to do with it. Poor Wilson, he called and told me about you, Mr. Warner. I told him not to be an old goat. I told him to let the past rest. But Wilson thought God was sending him a message to make his life right because you’d found out about all this. Guess he knew what he was talking about because he’s with the good Lord now.”

  Maeve sighed and patted Lauren’s hand.

  “Yes, yes. I’ll get to the point. I was Wilson Caufeld’s secretary in the earliest days. He trusted me with everything, and I stayed with him until he went on the bench. When he did that, I came home, and I worked for him here, but nobody ever knew about it. What I did was very special. What I did was watch over Wilson Caufeld’s shame.”

  Maeve picked up her cane and pointed it at Eli.

  “Ever had anyone believe in you so much they’d do anything for you?”

  Eli
gave her a half smile, “Can’t say that I have. Wish it were so.”

  “No, you don’t. That’s what got Wilson and Allan into trouble. Wilson loved that boy and thought he’d teach him how to be a great man. But Allan didn’t have the makings of a great man. Allan had the makings of a man who wanted to look great. When he started working for Wilson, he made big money for a kid who came from next to nothing. But that wasn’t enough for Allan. Always, always he wanted more. Wilson would try and tell him the big money would come in time, but I suppose Allan never really believed it. He just seemed to be listening. What he was doing was scheming.”

  “Did he steal from Wilson?” Lauren asked quietly.

  “He stole from the partnership. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We almost didn’t catch it, but the accountant came to me and I went to Wilson. Wilson went to Allan. There was a big fight between the two of them. Late at night. Wilson asked me to stay but everyone else was gone. Allan was a mess. He was crazy, beside himself. Crying and apologizing and telling Wilson he’d never do it again. He begged Wilson not to ruin him. That boy made such a scene. Either he was a darn good actor, or he was really terrified of the consequences.”

  “But Wilson couldn’t turn him in, could he?” Eli asked. Maeve shook her head.

  “You know Wilson, don’t you? He would have gone to jail himself. No, he couldn’t bring charges, and he knew if the other partners found out they would. They all liked Allan well enough, but embezzlement would have ruined the firm if it got out. Then there was the matter of Allan breaking the law. ’Course that was never talked about out loud but that’s what hurt the judge so bad. Funniest thing about Allan and the judge, the two of them were like oil and water.” Maeve shook her head remembering that night. “Lord, it was dramatic. No television show could be better than what happened that night.”

  “What did happen?” Lauren asked, almost afraid to hear.

  “I was sent home when things calmed down. To make a long story short, Wilson came in late the next day. He’d met with the accountant. Told him that he had borrowed the money and there had been a mix-up in transferring funds from another account. I don’t know if the accountant believed him, but the money was back where it belonged. All one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Allan wouldn’t be going to jail; he’d keep his license to practice law. There’d be no charges because Wilson wasn’t going to bring them and nobody else but me knew what had happened.”

 

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