Swann Songs (The Boston Uncommon Mysteries Book 4)

by Arlene Kay

  My heart skipped a mini-beat. “How could I forget? It`s just that you head the Swann Foundation, and that`s our trading card.”

  “Okay. No problem. Then what?”

  For a brilliant man, Deming sometimes ignores the obvious.

  “Then we submit our conclusions to Keegan, and I get busy writing my book. Easy peasy. No stress, no strain, no danger.”

  “You forgot something,” Deming said. “My mom wants to be in on this. She`ll insist.”

  “Are you kidding? Anika is our secret weapon. Paskert fawns over her so much that I think he`s actually hot for her. If Anika asks about his career in chemistry, I`m sure he`ll oblige.”

  By the time we`d finalized our plans, reached our condo, and braved Cato’s anger, both Deming and I were exhausted. Deming dove under the covers and dozed off before I finished removing my makeup. I stared down at my husband, noting the tousled curls tickling the nape of his neck and long, thick lashes touching his cheek. That emboldened me to whisper something special into his ear. “Love you, Deming. I`d die without you.” I kissed his forehead and switched off the lights.

  Chapter Eighteen

  PASKERT WAS AN easy target, but Phineas Keegan was elusive. That next morning we arranged a meeting at the University without any problem. Breaching the Cambridge police force was much more challenging. Keegan growled into the phone and did his best to deter me even after I promised to bring Anika along. I ignored his snubs and finally snagged an audience with the lieutenant.

  “That man is most annoying,” I told Anika. “After all, he is a public servant with a double homicide to solve.”

  “Don`t take it personally, Eja. I suspect that he`s wary of all amateurs. Probably thinks we`re trying to show him up and do his job for him.”

  I snorted something rude and arranged to meet Anika after lunch. Fess Paskert had invited us to tea, a civilized alternative to Keegan’s brutish tactics. Under protest, Deming agreed to meet us at the faculty VIP room. It was a major concession for him. He detests the very concept of afternoon tea and the tiny sandwiches that accompany it.

  Unfortunately, Cato was more fractious that normal that morning. He lunged at joggers in the Common and growled off every other creature. One would think that a fifty-acre park would provide enough room for one surly spaniel and the rest of the world, however nobody checked that out with Cato. His behavior turned our thirty-minute walk into an obstacle course rather than a sane effort to exercise. My arms ached from clutching his lead in a near death grip, so I sank down on a bench abutting the swan boats.

  “Ironic, wouldn`t you say?”

  I snapped to attention, grateful for once that Cato was near. “I beg your pardon?”

  A sturdy female figure plopped down beside me and chuckled. “Scared you, did I? Sorry. It just tickled my funny bone, seeing a Swann near the swan boats.”

  When my mind fog cleared I recognized Zarina, queen of COWE. We exchanged greetings as Cato made a fool of himself rolling over in a shameless bid for attention.

  “That`s unusual for him,” I said. “He`s normally a terror. My husband has the teeth marks to prove it.”

  “Hard to believe,” she said. “Your hubby is quite the charmer. Good thing Sonia didn`t get her hooks into him.”

  “Sonia?”

  Zarina spread out her arms. “I thought everyone knew that. She was ruthless. Always aiming to trade up. And let`s face it, you can`t get much higher up than Deming Swann unless you snare his daddy.”

  Since gaping like the village idiot is unattractive, I made an effort to close my mouth.

  “Sonia had plenty of admirers,” I stammered. “Dr. Paskert, Gabriel, Sorrel, and who knows how many others.”

  Zarina wagged her finger at me. “You just don`t get it, do you? I`m a psychologist by trade, so nothing surprises me about people. Sonia Reyes felt entitled to anything—or anyone—her little heart desired. Never enough. Sweet as pie when it suited her, but get in her way and she was a freight train bearing down on you.”

  That echoed something that Nadia had told me. Sonia, a woman of a thousand faces with an attitude very much like Gabriel’s. No wonder that duo had originally been drawn to each other.

  “Did you see her that last day?” I asked. “At the University, I mean.”

  “Who says I was there?” Zarina flashed a predator`s grin that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Lieutenant Keegan,” I lied. “Believe me, you weren`t alone. A whole cast of characters tromped through the area that day.”

  Her pale blue eyes were cold and unnerving as they fixed on me. Zarina had perfected the art of stony stares without once blinking. Unpleasant scenes from slasher films flashed before my eyes as I considered my options. The Common was deserted except for the traitorous Cato, so I had no choice but to stay the course.

  After a moment`s hesitation, Zarina shook her head. “Yeah. I was there all right. And before you ask, I was looking for Sonia. Fortunately for both of us, I didn`t find her.”

  “How so?”

  “I had a business proposition to put before her. About Duff. If she`d tried any of her normal bullshit, there would have been trouble. I can guarantee that.”

  “A fight?”

  Zarina raised her eyebrows. “Hardly. After all, I`m trained to handle difficult types. I had other options to put on the table, and believe me, Sonia wouldn`t like them one bit.”

  I weighed my next move, realizing that Zarina was a strong, muscular woman who could throttle me with ease. Come to think of it, bashing Sonia would have been child`s play for her.

  “Why bring up Duff now? Poor thing is long gone. Deming and I were there seconds after she died, and I have to say that Sonia was distraught. Close to hysteria.”

  Zarina laughed so loudly that Cato arose from his stupor and barked. He calmed down the moment she scratched his ear.

  “Listen. Sonia put Duff in harm’s way, and I wanted that ten percent of the profits from her book. Not for me. I planned to use it for COWE. You know, a permanent memorial in Duff’s name. So she wouldn`t be forgotten.” Her eyes misted when she mentioned her friend. That made me warm to Zarina even though I remained vigilant. Loyalty to a fallen friend—I knew all about that.

  “Have you broached that idea to Sorrel?” I asked. “He seems like a decent guy.”

  “Naw. I ran into him that day, but his mind was on other things. Poor guy. He looked like he wanted to cry. It wasn`t easy cleaning up all of Sonia’s messes, but he did it. Professor Mann was a different story. He and Paskert were like kids in a candy shop whenever Sonia sailed by.” She curled her lip. “Men can be such fools.”

  A brainstorm suddenly flooded my mind. Call it inspiration or a fortuitous turn; either way it made sense.

  “I`m writing an account of the murders, you know.”

  Zarina nodded.

  “I`d be glad to contribute ten percent of the proceeds to your cause. In fact, I`ll donate the same amount to the Bella Brigade in Sonia’s name. I realize that it won`t sell as well as Worm, but still, it might help.”

  The expression on Zarina’s face was hard to interpret. Admiration or cynicism, who can judge. She reached out and shook my hand.

  “Very nice of you, Ms. Kane.” She winked at me. “Send your husband over to finalize the arrangements.”

  ANIKA PICKED ME up for our session with Dr. Paskert. Promptly at two o`clock, she swung into our driveway and tooted the horn.

  The moment I saw her, my fragile ego flatlined. In an effort to appear demure and convey class and elegance, I`d worn my most conservative junior league suit. One glance at Anika confirmed that I looked dowdy and mature beyond my years. My lovely mother-in-law wore a chic Armani shirtwaist with pastel accents and matching heels. She was a bonbon, a frothy blonde confection fit for a palace or a runway.
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br />   “I love high tea,” Anika said. “So very British. Bolin and I always order it at the Connaught when we visit London.”

  “He doesn`t mind the tiny sandwiches then? Deming refuses to even consider it.”

  Anika giggled as she sped through a yellow light. “That boy is so spoiled, Eja. Of course I forced him to go when he was a youngster. CeCe loved it, but Dem rebelled. Bolin had to scold him several times before he behaved.”

  “I suspect that Paskert’s spread won`t be lavish, but he might just relax and spill his guts. It`s certainly worth a try.”

  “Aha! We`ll catch him when he`s vulnerable.” Anika showed her dimples. “Wait a second. I`ll ask his advice. Men always fall for that.”

  “Except Sorrel Yeagan. He tunnelled into the real you straight away. Quite a perceptive man. Sonia was lucky to have him in her life, not that she seemed to appreciate it.”

  Anika shrugged. “So many of us take things for granted that other people would kill for and don`t figure everything out until it`s too late.” She squeezed my hand. “That`s one of the things I appreciate most about you, Eja. Your loving heart.”

  Her words stirred a memory in my mind, long forgotten words of a revered poet. After a moment it came to me. “Oscar Wilde got it right when he said that each man kills the thing he loves. Applies to women too, I suppose.”

  “True,” Anika said. “I wonder if that happened to Sonia. She was loved by so many.”

  That got me thinking. Duff Ryder was inoffensive, unlikely to appear on anyone`s radar screen, but Sonia inspired strong feelings both good and bad. Then I recalled the rest of Wilde`s poem. He listed the things that can kill something precious: bitter looks, betrayal, a coward`s kiss, and the brave man`s weapon, the sword. Sonia killed Duff’s spirit, Melanie kissed her rival`s cheek, and Gabriel betrayed anyone who stood in his path. Had one of Sonia’s admirers used the sword to slay her?

  “We`re here, Eja. Are you okay?”

  “Woolgathering. Sorry. I thought for a moment I had something, but it floated away.” I fluffed my hair and readied myself for a session with the good doctor. Paskert was still an anomaly, a man who appeared inoffensive but according to Worm, had a number of quirks that Sonia had exploited.

  “Thinking about Fess Paskert, I bet.” Anika’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Actually I was thinking about his fondness for deviant sex. Ugh! I can`t bear the thought of even shaking his hand knowing where it might have been. Talk about a motive for bashing in Sonia’s head.”

  Anika laughed. “That didn`t shock me one bit. You`d be surprised at what turns on some very successful people, most of them men. Not Bolin of course. He`s always been a real man. The kind you can admire.”

  Once again, I realized the hidden depths of Mrs. Bolin Swann. Anika could teach me a thing or three about the world. Maybe I should take notes.

  The faculty VIP room was located in the Administration Building, a moss-covered brick building in the center of the campus. We mentioned Paskert’s name to the receptionist and were whisked down a corridor to a room with a “members only” sign.

  Any visions I`d had of utilitarian cafeteria fare were instantly dashed. Eight round tables were festooned with pink cloths, linen napkins, crystal goblets, and china. Sconces and mini-chandeliers provided an elegant touch. In a word, it was lovely.

  “Ladies, please join me.” Paskert escorted us to a table with a view of Concord’s gardens. “Mr. Swann phoned and asked us to start without him. Clients, you know.”

  He had spruced up for the occasion, and I had to admit that Fess Paskert had a certain professorial aura that served him well. As a student waiter approached and filled our glasses with Pellegrino, a new guest entered the room. Paskert blanched and nearly genuflected when he saw that it was Bolin Swann.

  My father-in-law is a hunk. There`s no other way to say it. Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome, proof positive that sixty is the new forty, or maybe even thirty-five. If genes are key, Deming will only improve as he ages.

  Bolin kissed Anika’s cheek and winked at me as he joined our table.

  “I`m here subbing for my son, Dr. Paskert. He usually handles Foundation business, but things got hectic today.” His smile was guileless.

  Paskert nearly salivated as he calculated all those dollars. He recovered nicely and managed a steady stream of trivia as we awaited our tea.

  “As you know we`re preparing your grant stipend,” Bolin said. “I trust that all the unpleasantness hasn`t disrupted things too much for you.”

  “No. Not at all.” Paskert hastily amended his statement. “Naturally, we`re heartbroken over the losses, but life goes on. Sonia and Duff would expect that of us.”

  “Understood,” Bolin said. “I read your impressive CV this morning. Chemistry and literature! You`re quite a Renaissance man.”

  Anika took her cue. “You must miss lab work, though. Do you still get a chance to do any research?”

  Paskert swallowed the bait like a hungry trout. “Occasionally. Just last month I invited the English faculty over to watch some experiments.” He beamed. “They were very impressed.”

  “I`d be frightened,” Anika said, shuddering. “All those chemicals and noxious substances.”

  Unlike Sorrel, Paskert bought her helpless female act hook, line, and sinker. He exchanged amused glances with Bolin and gave Anika a verbal hand pat. “It`s very safe, Mrs. Swann. Everything is strictly accounted for. Of course I had to caution them about wandering around. People like Nadia and Sonia were used to rummaging about. `Exploring` they called it.”

  “That might be problematical.” Bolin grinned, playing along.

  “Exactly, but everyone had a good time. See.” He reached for his iPhone and shared the pictures. The merry group included victims as well as Gabriel Mann and Nadia Pinsky.

  “How sad,” I said. “Duff and Sonia look so happy. This must have been one of the last snapshots of them together.”

  He hesitated as if weighing the pros and cons of the situation. “A tragedy. I feel confident that the Cambridge police will find those responsible.”

  “This is somewhat delicate,” Bolin said, leaning forward, “but I had a few concerns about that novel. Worm in the Apple I believe it`s called. Naturally, I support the first amendment. Vigorously. But readers might think that the characters were based on Concord University, and that would be unfortunate.”

  The pallor of Paskert’s complexion grew so pronounced that I feared he might faint on the spot or keel over dead.

  “The Swann Foundation is very cautious,” I said. “They scrupulously vet any bequest. You understand, I`m sure.”

  After gulping a healthy slug of Pellegrino, Paskert stammered a reply. “That entire thing was fiction. A total fabrication! I confronted Sonia about that and she assured me . . .”

  “As you know,” I said, “I`m a writer too. Despite statements to the contrary, the story lines are often based on the people we know or situations we`re familiar with.”

  Anika gave Paskert the full star treatment. “I read that novel in one setting.” She glanced at her husband. “So did Bolin. It was captivating! Quite naughty though, especially that FetLife business.”

  Paskert stalled for time by biting into a watercress sandwich. After chewing carefully he nodded. “Sonia’s imagination was very active. Too much so for someone guiding undergraduates. Impressionable young minds and all that. It`s one of the reasons we decided to award tenure elsewhere.”

  “No kidding? Sorrel Yeagan agreed to that?” I tried the wide-eyed act but failed.

  “Tenure is strictly a university matter, Ms. Kane. We accept feedback from others of course.”

  In academia, such a rebuke would crush the recipient. Fortunately, I am an independent contractor long removed from the halls of ivy.

>   “No wonder you and Sorrel went to find her that last day. What a difficult conversation that must have been!” I heaved a pronounced sigh.

  We all accepted more tea, although Paskert looked ready for something stronger.

  “Ah, Chinese Wedding Tea. One of our favorites.” Bolin nodded approvingly.

  Anika agreed. “This is so thoughtful of you, Professor. Tell me. What frame of mind was Sonia in that afternoon? Eja and I spent most of the day with her, you know. She seemed confident, ebullient. Ready to take on the world.”

  Paskert was trapped. No admonishments for Mrs. Bolin Swann. No sir. A direct question required a direct response.

  “That`s just it,” he said. “I never saw Sonia that day. Sorrel and I spoke and went over to her office, but the door was closed. We knocked of course. I supposed that she had gone home. Nadia hinted that Sonia was a bit tipsy.”

  “Really?” Anika’s tone was frosty.

  “Perfectly natural under the circumstances,” Paskert added. “Coming from a funeral and all. I finished some paperwork and left around six.”

  Bolin rose and shook Paskert’s hand. “Thank you for the hospitality. My son will keep you apprised of our decision.”

  And thus ended another Boston Tea Party.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I WASN`T SURE THAT we`d learned much other than the obvious: Bolin Swann scared the Shakespeare out of Fess Paskert. Money talks in academia as well as every other sphere of life, and the Swann Foundation was a soliloquy that rivaled Hamlet’s.

  Since Deming would demand a full accounting, I spent some time organizing my thoughts. Paskert’s denial about Worm was no surprise. No right-thinking man would cop to the description of an addled wuss with a kinky streak. If his timetable was correct, Sonia must have died before 6 p.m., shortly after we dropped her at the University. Zarina also confirmed that Sonia’s office door had been shut.