Floundering Adrift (Detective Linda Galbes)

by Combs, Sasha

  “Constance... Let’s be clear on this first.” Linda could feel Stone’s steely eyes watching Constance, and gauging her responses.

  “Your son’s legal name is Trey Wellington... But, when he was young, you use to call him Samson... After his grandfather.”

  “That’s right. And I didn’t just call him Samson. I used a number of variations but they were all much the same. Samson... Sammy.... Sam... It was our own little game. Harold hated it when I did this, and it was years before I explained to Trey why his father disliked that nickname.”

  Linda was pretty sure that Samuel Gilmore and Trey Wellington were one in the same and it was apparent that Constance’s nickname was the key, explaining why Trey had been using parts of his grandfathers name to disguise his true identity.

  “Why did your husband dislike the nickname that you’d given your son?”

  Constance smirked, but behind her grin, Linda notices a degree of pain. This wouldn’t be a silly story. Something painful in her past still managed to torment her.

  Again, her eyes found the door, but Constance accepted her plight. Help wouldn’t be coming to rescue her and so many years had passed since that time. She settled back in her seat; talking while managing to avoid eye contact with either detective.

  “We all have secrets you know.” Constance didn’t need to define what the words ‘we all’ meant or whom they referred to. Linda knew that she was referring to people in her class. The people that made up her little world. Constance continued...

  “As I said... When Trey was born, I wanted to name him after my grandfather. And he was. For twenty-four hours, my son’s name was Samson Mortimer Wellington. I’d chosen the name because Harold refused to give my son his name. He wouldn’t allow it because.... Trey isn’t Harold’s son.” Constance looked at her hands and noticed the tremble. Her eyes were distant when she looked at them. She said...

  “If we’re going to have this conversation, I’m going to need something stronger than tea.” Neither of them noticed that she’d already pressed the little button near her seat. A few seconds later, the door to the library swung wide, and a woman appeared, asking if she could bring the Madame something.

  Constance instructed the maid to mix her a drink. Behind a door, leading into another room, there was a full bar, so getting the drink took the maid less than five minutes to do.

  Now with her drink in hand, Constance took a small sip. Linda watched as she swallowed. Her lids lowered, and the burn took hold of her throat. Memories, Constance thought. Revelations that had once threatened to destroy her life.

  They gave her a minute to recover, but Linda didn’t want to risk her changing her mind, then refusing to say more, so she said...

  “You said that your husband didn’t want your son to have his name because he wasn’t his son... But why was he so angry when you decided to name him after your grandfather?”

  “Harold said that it wasn’t the proper thing to do. He said that my grandfather would be appalled if he ever learned that my first child... A child birthed out of wedlock from its biological father... He didn’t think it was right that any child should claim such an honor.”

  “So... You agreed with him.” Linda said because it was apparent that Harold Wellington had gotten his way.

  “I did Detective, but not for the reasons you may think. You see... When Harold learned about my secret, he didn’t divorce me. He loved me... But the idea that I gave birth to a child, father by a married man... For that reason, he never could separate my son from that sin.”

  “Who was your son’s biological father?”

  “Ah...” She said... “You’re trying to jump to the end of the story. Well, Detective... There will be none of that. You see, only a few people know this story and if I’m going to tell you... Well, you’ll have to listen, and find out how this tale was spun from the very beginning.”

  Linda didn’t mind because already, she’d begun tying together the inconsistencies. Angelica meeting the Oxford educated man in London, and not being able to tie his accent to a country. Then the business card that only had the company’s name and Trey’s phone number. The search in the data base for a man that didn’t exist because he was using his grandfather’s name as his alias. But how much did Constance know about her son? And how was he tied to these murders? It was all here and Linda knew it. For that reason, she waited; allowing Constance and her glass of brandy to talk.

  “As I said...Sammy isn’t really my husbands son. I call him Sammy because, he’s so much like my grandfather. The nickname is only something shared between me and Trey. Harold knew about my affair but as for others...not many people knew about it. It just wasn’t a proper topic for conversation. Sammy... That is to say Trey. I don’t want to confuse you. My son’s real father and I, we had an affair. I’m not even sure if one should call it that. You see... I was in college at the time. An impressionable young woman in my senior year at Brown. The semester was done and we were packing up. Some were going to parties and others were busy milking the campus for their last slices of college life. My roommate told me about a dashing man, scheduled to speak at one of the lecture halls that evening. I’d seen him before at a relatives summer party in the Hamptons and I told my friend so. I recalled people saying that he was a guru money man, or some such nonsense. When you’re young, living off your trust funds; comments like that don’t seem to register. But...I went anyway because it seemed important to my roommate. Seeing him on that platform...something snapped inside of me. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. Truly seeing him...you know. He wasn’t holding a drink in his hand, and to listen to him... Well, he was amazing. When the event was over, I couldn’t get near enough to the platform to talk to him, so I waited; seated in the back row of the auditorium. Later, he told me that he’d noticed me, sitting in the crowd. Afterwards...well, one thing led to another. The next morning, I woke up in his hotel room. He didn’t rape me. The sex was consensual.... Of course, at the time, I didn’t know that he was married and his wife had a child on the way. My reality came crashing in, and I had to accept that I’d been used... What could be any worse? Well, if I didn’t know then, it didn’t take long to answer that question. A month after that chance meeting, I found out that I was pregnant. Two months later I accepted a marriage proposal from a man that I wasn’t really in love with and I insisted we get married right away. I took advantage of Harold in the worse possible way. He loved me. Truly, loved me. Hiding the fact that I was pregnant when we got married wasn’t easy and many people figured it out but everyone always assumed that the baby was my husbands.”

  “But your husband....Harold...?”

  “You’re wondering if Harold knew. Of course he knew that the child wasn’t his. We didn’t have sex until we went on our honeymoon.”

  “Why didn’t he end the marriage right then and there?”

  “In my world... You just don’t do that sort of thing.”

  “And what about your son? Did he ever learn the truth about his father...?”

  “My son grew up knowing that his father didn’t care much for him and he never understood Harold’s disdain. One day, when Harold and I both thought Trey was away at boarding school. We didn’t know that he’d come home that weekend. The housekeeper failed to tell us this. Had we known...”

  Constance lifted her drink, and she swallowed hard. She exhaled heavily, but she continued...

  “Harold and I had been arguing. Our marriage suffered the moment he realized that I wasn’t carrying his child. We never...” She choked on the words then said... “After the birth of the baby...we never shared a bed again and for all intense and purposes we were just roommates. Well, Harold never cheated on me. I can’t say that I was as loyal but I did keep up appearances. Well.... Harold wanted more than a wife to take to social events. So, we both agreed, it would be best if he stayed at one of his family’s properties in New Port. It was understood that when he left our marital home, my husband would take on a lo
ver. I’d had a lot to drink that night and I told him that we might as well go our separate ways. He thought I was being highhanded, so he knocked me down a peg, by bringing up my illegitimate child. That’s how Sammy learned that Harold wasn’t his real father.”

  “Was he upset? Trey, that is... Was he angry when he learned the truth?” Linda thought about the carnage. The coroner’s report spoke of rage. The type of emotion that gave a man inhuman strength.

  Constance looked up, then said...

  “He was never the same after that. My Sammy constantly begged to know who his biological father was but I wouldn’t tell him. One day I received a call from his headmaster telling me that he’d tried to commit suicide by stabbing himself in the stomach. After that, I told him everything he wanted to know. He even understood why our little nickname joke tormented his father. Sammy...Trey came to hate that name for a while. I’d even caught him writing his first name, then crossing out the Wellington. Whenever he was at home from boarding school, I would find him on the internet, googling his father.”

  “You told him his biological father’s name?”

  “Yes... It became clear that my son needed closure and I wanted him to have that.”

  “Constance...” Until now, Stone had listened quietly, but somewhere during the telling of this story, he too was beginning to see the forming of their killer. Stone said...

  “The father... What is his name?”

  “Brice... Brice Fischer.”

  They couldn’t stop their heads from turning. Linda stared at Stone and in that instant, they were beginning to understand but they needed to learn more about Trey Wellington. What had he endured after learning that Brice Fischer was indeed his biological father? Linda said...

  “As far as you know... Did Trey ever talk to Brice Fischer?”

  Constance stared into the distance. She said...

  “For nearly a year, after he graduated from prep school, Sammy kept a diary, using the internet to track Brice Fischer’s every move. On one of his school breaks from university, I found the journal in his room. I happened upon it while helping him unpack.”

  “What did he say when you confronted him?”

  “I didn’t confront him. I just thought it was a phase, so I chose to ignore it. Even though Harold wasn’t Sammy’s real father, he was heart broken when he was made aware of his suicide attempt. Harold and I maintained appearances for Trey’s sake. From then on, we both did our best to be civil. But I suppose even that wasn’t enough. Especially after Trey graduated from college.”

  Linda noticed how Constance used her son’s names. She didn’t see a pattern. Equally, to Constance, her son was both Trey and Samuel. She wondered how confusing this had to be for Trey Wellington. Was his curiosity born out of the nickname his mother labeled him with? Or did his questions sprout when he’d overheard his parents trading jabs and verbal blows.

  “What happened after college?” Stone asked, breaking Linda from her musing.

  Constance reached for her goblet. She lifted the glass, drinking far more than a true lady would. When she finished, they both noticed that she didn’t bother placing the glass back on the table. Constance palmed the glass, then a stream of heated words flowed from her mouth like an active volcano.

  “In my husbands family, graduating from university is a right of passage. Children are given shares of the company as a part of their inheritance. In Trey’s case, had he been Harold’s biological son, he would have been offered a seat on the board of one of the companies that my husband oversaw.”

  “Did Trey expect to be treated as if he were your ex-husbands son?”

  She smirked then sipped from her drink. She sat the glass down, then crossed her legs while leaning back in the chair,

  “I don’t recall saying that I divorced my husband.” Her eyes were glued on Linda, daring her to challenge her but instead, she smiled, then snidely said.... “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Hayford did say that you’re an extremely perceptive young woman.”

  Again, she drank from her glass, then continued, her remarks more mellow than before.

  “My son expected to be treated like a Wellington. And because I am his mother...he didn’t deserve to be treated as anything less.”

  “What happened Constance?”

  “On the day of Trey’s graduation, Harold told our son that he simply couldn’t allow him to receive the benefits that most Wellington’s would receive. He told Trey, to ask his mother to explain the reason for his decision. After Harold delivered his heart crushing news; my husband left the house, devastating my son. Leaving me to pick up the pieces on my own.”

  “But... Your son works for your family...right?” Linda asked, just to be certain that she’d not misunderstood.

  “Of course he does. I may have married a Wellington but I’ll aways be a Gilmore-Davis. My father would never stand idle, allowing Harold to humiliate his grandson. When the gossip began to surface, I saw no need not to share my secret with my parents and they didn’t care that Trey wasn’t really a Wellington. But after the way Harold treated my son... Including Trey in the Wellington tradition was expected. It was the right thing to do...but Harold simply refused. I saw the pain on my sons face when he realized that being shunned would mean questions... Questions that he alone would have to explain to his friends. Even today... He still uses the Wellington name...and I’ve never heard him once threaten to change his last name. He would never do that.”

  “Did he ever stop attempting to contact his biological father?”

  She sat quiet, tapping her long nail at the base of her chin. She looked like a perfect china doll with a hairline fracture that she’d worked hard to cover up. Linda leaned forward, using her words to bring the woman back from wherever her daydreaming had taken her.

  “Constance... Do you think maybe... Maybe your son continued to use whatever means he had available to him to track his father. Perhaps he befriended others, just to learn more about him. Even if that meant using an alias.”

  At first, Constance didn’t answer, then she said...

  “Why are you here? This isn’t just a routine follow up visit. And we’ve established the identity of Samuel Gilmore.”

  “That’s right ma’am, this isn’t a routine followup.” Stone said “But...we were looking for a man by the name of Samuel Gilmore and it sounds like you’ve helped us to identity him.”

  “I’ve done nothing of the sort.” Constance protested, causing Linda to say...

  “Constance... I understand your frustration and we can easily clear this up, if there’s any confusion.” She leveled her voice, lacing it with the sound of trust.

  “Constance.... Do you know where your son is?”

  “I told you already. Trey is... He’s on his way home today.”

  Stone had heard enough, so he stood preparing to leave the library. Linda followed his lead, as she rose, then straightened, she felt Constance grab her hand. Linda lowered and she noticed tears in her eyes.

  “Please... Why are you looking for my son? What has he done? Just tell me and I’ll reimburse whomever he offended.”

  “I’m sorry Constance, but this has nothing to do with money.”

  “Then what...?” she begged. Linda had sympathy for the woman but she couldn’t explain the charges that she hoped to pin on her son. Linda was certain that Trey Wellington was her murder but she needed to find him and question him before he learned that the police were looking for him. She only hoped that the manager at the loft didn’t have a way to get in contact with him before his plane landed. Even so, he still would have to disembark, then go through the customs screening process.

  Linda gently pulled her hand, easing her fingers out of Constance’s grasp. She wanted to say something that would dry her tears but she couldn’t. This woman had lived a life of lies and deception. First she’d been the victim, then she became the spider, weaving her own web. But the true victims were the four dead women, killed by a sociopathic maniac bent on
revenge. A vengeance that Linda still didn’t fully understand.

  As they walked out of the library, Linda made the mistake of looking back over her shoulder. Constance was on her feet, heading for the closed door, that led to the bar. When she crossed the threshold, Linda watched as the door closed behind her. She supposed, there was no need to pretend anymore. Constance would be forced to face demons that she’d pretended weren’t there. Hurts and pains that were once buried. But why, without warning, had her son suddenly snapped; going on a killing spree. Linda looked down the hall, spotting her partner standing near the elevator. Stone was talking on his mobile; coordinating his next move with the assistance of the commander. Hayford came up beside her. Linda’s face appeared drained of color. Talking to Constance had whipped the life out of her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her; stealing her away from her job. But with Stone so near, he didn’t dare express his desire.

  “By the look of things, your talk with Constance was productive.” He said.

  She nodded, then her eyes lifted questionably.

  “Hayford... You said that, there have always been rumors about Brice. Illegitimate children, and many mistresses... But you never said who those rumors were about.”

  “Linda... I didn’t say anything because I don’t repeat information that is rooted in gossip. People get hurt that way. And saying I’m sorry does little when it comes to healing those kinds of wounds. You know me... I would never say something that I didn’t find out for myself.”

  She’d been prepared to question him, much like she’d questioned Constance, but he was right. Hayford had few faults but lacking integrity wasn’t one of them. She lowered her eyes, because she didn’t want to be the one to tell him that Samuel Gilmore and Trey Wellington were the same person. She didn’t want to tell him that Constance Davis-Wellington’s son; the friend to his mother. She couldn’t say that Trey was wanted for the homicide of four women.

  Instead she said...

  “I think we should leave now. But maybe you can call you mom and ask her to check on Constance in a little while. I think I’d feel much better knowing that she isn’t here alone.”