“What kind of deal?”
“The kind Mr. Harden made with every one of us. Essentially, it was extortion. I didn’t want to go back to jail, and he knew that. He wasn’t interested in the reason I went to the bar, but he said the police officer believed in my innocence. After I gave him my word that I wouldn’t run away, he put me up in a hotel and told me to come back in three days.”
“Why would he do that?” Julie asked.
Simon laughed at that question. “Because he was Roger Harden. He had to show me his control. One time I started to leave the hotel to eat, and a bellman stopped me. He said I was to order from room service and not to leave my room. He was to bring me anything I needed, but I wasn’t to leave.”
“For three days?”
“Like being in prison again—of sorts,” Simon said. “It also gave Roger time to find out everything about me. I had a phone call that said, ‘Mr. Harden’s car is on the way. Be in front of the hotel in fifteen minutes.’ When he summoned me back—and summoned is the right word—he held up a thick file. ‘This is all about you,’ he said.
“The deal he offered me wasn’t as bad as I had expected. He told me that if I would work for him for two full years, he would pay me well and I would never have to go back to jail. Of course, there was the downside—”
“Which was?”
“I was his private snoop. I had to constantly report on his wife, his son, and all visitors on the island. That’s why I acted as if I didn’t know English. That was Roger’s idea. He thought it was a great trick. He was right—you’d be amazed at how freely people spoke in my presence.”
“And you reported their words to Roger?”
“Every word. I didn’t like it, but I had promised.”
“Didn’t it trouble you?” I asked.
“Very much,” he said. “In all honesty, sometimes I walked away so that I didn’t have to hear some things.”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Two years and two months.”
“I thought you said exactly two years?” Julie said. “Why didn’t you leave at the end of that time? Wouldn’t he let you go?”
“I stayed for several reasons—but none of them have anything to do with his death.”
“Convince us,” Julie said. She had a determined look in her eyes, and she wasn’t going to let him stop now.
“He never planned to let me go. He made me sign a confession—an undated one. He had also dug up evidence of other crimes I had done—drug things. So he could easily have sent me back to prison.”
“That sounds like a good reason to kill him,” Julie said. “All you had to do was kill Roger Harden, get the confession back, and you were free.”
“I have the confession. He gave it to me two nights ago—okay, I guess it’s now three nights.”
“And you’re still here?”
“Yes, I was the only one to whom he gave back the implicating evidence. He told me so.”
“Why you?”
“I don’t know. That’s the truth—I don’t know.”
“Let me backtrack.” He turned to Julie. “This involves God again, so it may bore you. Maybe you want to make fresh coffee while I tell Mr. Burton.”
“I can handle it,” she said.
“A month before my two years ended, I asked him about when I could leave. He laughed at me. He said he liked me and liked the way I did things. He said I was the best servant he’d ever had and wanted to keep me a little longer.”
“A little longer?” I asked. “What did that mean?”
“It meant he wasn’t going to let me go. He had enough evidence on me to keep me here. Even with the statute of limitations running out, it wouldn’t matter. He had enough power to keep me here the rest of my life.”
“So you shot him?” Julie asked.
“I won’t even answer that,” Simon said. “I was angry. Hatred raged inside me, and you know what? I think he liked seeing me so angry.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I ran out of the house—down to the water’s edge—down near where we found Elaine’s body. At first I just wanted to jump into the Atlantic and drown. But I had met Jesus Christ in prison. I stopped and I prayed.” He looked at Julie and said, “You’ll have to take my word for this, but I fell on the ground and cried out to God for help. I pleaded with God to forgive my anger and to take away my hatred.”
“Did it go away?”
“Not then—not instantly. It took two days because I couldn’t forgive him, and my soul was tortured. I didn’t hate him, but I wanted to be free from him. Two nights before everyone came here, I was able to forgive him.”
“I can just about believe that story,” Tonya Borders said. “Just about believe it, but not quite.”
We looked up and saw her standing at the door. We had no idea how long she had been there.
She walked into the office. “Roger was not the kindest man in the world, but if he knew you had violated your parole, he would have told me. And I would have gone to the authorities.”
“You seem to be an authority on Roger Harden,” Julie said. “Maybe you have something to tell us.”
“I loved Roger Harden. I truly loved him. If it hadn’t been for Amanda—oh, well, you know how those things go.”
“She’s lying,” Simon said.
“How dare you say I’m lying,” Tonya said. “I loved him.”
“Perhaps you did,” Simon said, “but you also stole from him.”
Twenty-Two
“Stole from Roger? How can you dare to say such—such a vile thing!” Tonya Borders screamed, her accent fully in place.
I didn’t realize Tonya had that much of a voice range. She had always spoken in low, unemotional tones, but her voice now reached a semi-hysterical pitch.
She turned from Simon and faced me. “This—this convicted criminal stands before you and dares to accuse me of a crime. How dare he!” She pulled off her glasses and wiped the perspiration from her face. “I told you—I loved Roger.”
“Love I don’t know about,” Simon said. “But I know you stole from him.”
“This is preposterous,” she said. “Burton. Julie. Are you going to listen to this—this convicted felon?”
“I know what Roger told me.”
“Oh, now that he is dead, you become familiar and call him by his first name? What kind of person are you?”
“He asked me to call him Roger, and I have done that for the past three days. Something else—I became his friend.” He looked at me and added, “That’s why I didn’t leave. He told me I could go. He offered to do what he could to help me get my license restored or do whatever I wanted so I could obtain a good job. He also promised to help me find my wife—my former wife—and see if there was a chance for reconciliation.”
“Why didn’t you go?” Tonya asked.
“He needed me,” Simon said simply. “He needed me.”
“How preposterous,” Tonya said. “That was his problem, Roger never needed anybody.”
“Let’s get back on topic,” Simon said. “I accused Tonya of stealing from Roger.”
“And I said—”
“Yes, I know what you said,” Simon interrupted, “but—”
“Are you going to listen to that—that convict? I would not do such a thing as—”
“Roger said that you had falsified records and that he could prove you had cheated him out of slightly over six million dollars.”
“I did not steal from Roger.”
“I believe she is telling the truth.” Wayne Holmestead stood in the doorway. I have no idea how long he had been listening to the discussion. He came inside and took Tonya’s hand. “You don’t have to listen to such—such ridiculous charges.”
“I know what I know,” Simon said. “And besides—”
“Besides nothing! I was Roger’s partner and best friend for more than twenty years. I was his business adviser. If Tonya had cheated or stolen anything, I would
have been the first to know.”
“Unless you were part of it,” Simon said.
“How dare you!” Wayne raised his fist—something that seemed totally out of character.
“I know what Roger told me! Even better, I can prove it!” Simon said.
“Oh sure, the convict now becomes the police sleuth,” Wayne said. “Who would listen to you?”
“You don’t have to listen to me,” Simon said softly. “All you have to do is read.” He stepped so close to Wayne that he was less than six inches from his face. “You can read, can’t you?”
Wayne stepped back and turned to me. “Will you get this—this person—out of here?”
“Why don’t we all calm down and let Simon talk?” I said. “You’ll have an opportunity to refute whatever he says.”
“I’ll even bring in chairs for everyone.” Before anyone could protest, Simon rushed out of the room and came back with two chairs from the dining room.
“Now if Wayne and Tonya will be quiet, I’ll tell you what I know.”
Tonya started to object, but Wayne held up a hand. “Let him talk.”
“Roger wrote something—I don’t know what it said—I mean specifically. He planned to read it to us last night. I do know this much. It concerned all of us. Roger had held all of us captive to his capricious will for years. He had everything documented. He put the documentation inside a folder along with the paper he planned to read.”
“Oh sure,” Wayne said. “And I suppose now you’re going to whip out the document and point out who killed Roger and poor Elaine and also tried to kill me.”
“Why don’t you give your mouth a rest?” Simon said.
Julie laughed, but the rest of us stared in shock. Such a statement from Simon seemed out of character. But then, Simon had portrayed a character whom Roger had created, and none of us had known who he truly was.
“I have the document. I haven’t read it, but it’s in my possession.” Simon paused and let the words sink in.
“You have the documents?” Tonya repeated numbly. “All of them?”
“Everything,” Simon said.
Tonya and Wayne stared at each other. I tried to read their faces, but I couldn’t understand what was going on.
“Yesterday morning Roger called me into his office, and we talked for perhaps forty minutes, maybe a little longer. What we talked about isn’t significant except for what he said just before I left he room.”
“I suppose he told you someone would try to kill him,” Tonya said, and the snicker was on her face as well as in her voice.
Simon shook his head. “He certainly had no idea that anyone would murder him. In fact, he told me about his plans.”
“Plans? What plans? He certainly never discussed anything with me,” Wayne said. He started in on his being Roger’s friend and confidant.
Simon waited until Wayne stopped speaking and continued as if he had not been interrupted.
“Roger called me into his office. And just to make the relationship clear, he didn’t order me. He saw me walking from the kitchen toward the front door. ‘If you have a few minutes, Simon, could you come in here?’ Those were his words. Not a command as you said—”
“Summons,” Julie said. “That was the word they used. A summons.”
“Whatever the word,” Simon said, “Roger asked me to sit down. He told me about the dinner party and that everyone would stay overnight. He said, ‘I have something here.’ He held up a manila folder filled with papers. It was about two inches thick, and a rubber band held the folder tight. He slipped the folder into a large envelope and laid it on his desk.”
“So where is this—this alleged envelope?” asked Tonya. “I don’t see it.”
“I stole it,” Simon said.
“You did what?” Wayne asked.
“Whoever killed Roger wanted the envelope. I figured that out immediately, so I took it and hid it.” He turned to me and said, “You see, the murderer didn’t know—at least not then—that the important material was in an envelope.”
“This is most confusing—and perhaps a little too melodramatic for my tastes,” Tonya said.
Simon sank into a chair and turned his attention to Wayne. “You claimed to be his friend. You were the worst among us here. Roger trusted you. He thought of you as a brother—a brother he never had. He felt more betrayed by you—and by Tonya—than he did the others.”
“What others?” Paulette White stood in the doorway with Jeffery Dunn and Beth Wilson next to her.
“It looks as if everyone is here except Amanda, Jason, Lenny, and Reginald,” Julie said. “Why don’t we all go into the drawing room and get comfortable? Simon has some interesting things to tell all of us.”
“This is totally prepos—”
“Just stuff it,” Simon said to Wayne. “Let me have my say, and then you can object or squirm.” He laughed. “I think you’ll tend to squirm.”
“Let’s all calm down and go into the drawing room,” I said.
No one objected. Amanda and Jason were in the kitchen, and they must have heard us, because they came through with coffee and tea. Julie ran upstairs to get Reginald and Lenny.
Simon called me aside and hurriedly gave me information that shocked me. He also told me what he planned to do when we were all gathered. “Are you sure you can pull this off?” I asked. He gave me the old Simon shrug, put his arm around my shoulders, and led me into the drawing room.
“I’m going to cook omelets,” Amanda said. “Is that all right? It’s about the only thing I can cook besides scrambled eggs.”
“We don’t need any food now,” I said. “We’ll stay here in the drawing room. The coffee and tea are fine. Simon wants to talk to all of us.”
“Why don’t we wait for the other two?” Tonya said with a smirk. “We don’t want anyone to miss out on this—this fabulous tale we’re about to hear.”
In less than five minutes all of us were gathered in the drawing room. Several more minutes lapsed before everyone had poured themselves something to drink. I opted for water and sipped from my glass.
“Simon started to tell me several things,” I said, “and most of your names came up in the middle of it. I’d like Simon to start from the beginning and tell us everything.”
Tonya sighed. “Must we go through—”
“I would like to hear,” Amanda said and stared at Tonya. “This is my house, and you’re my guest.”
“Wow, Mom!” Jason clapped his hands. “I wish you’d done more of that in the past.”
“Be quiet, Jason,” she said softly. “Let’s listen.”
“You’re cool! Mom, you rock!”
Simon waited until everyone had given him his or her attention. I smiled at that. It was as if he were in a courtroom and we were the jury.
“Roger and I became friends quite recently,” he said. “He opened up and talked to me.”
“I can hardly believe he would discuss anything with you,” Jeffery said.
Simon held up a hand. “Then indulge me. After you’ve heard everything, you can decide whether I’m telling the truth.” He smiled and added, “Please.”
As if he were making his closing arguments in a criminal trial, Simon paced the room and stared at us one at a time. “Each of us is guilty of a crime. Each of us had something to hide—something illegal we have done—and something we want to keep hidden. It is also something that Roger knew and held over us.”
Without giving anyone a chance to interrupt him, he told us that Roger had discovered all of our crimes, even though he had no idea how Roger had learned everything. “He loved having you under his control. He didn’t want anything except control.” He walked up to each person and pointed a finger at each one.
As he walked, I found it interesting that as soon as he approached a person, stopped, and stared into that person’s face, none of them could return the stare.
Not even me.
Simon’s talk forced me to think about things I d
idn’t want to contemplate. Yes, Roger had control over me as well. I had not mentioned that to anyone, not even Julie when she confessed so openly.
Julie stared at me. Her lips formed the words, “You too?”
I nodded and looked away. I was too ashamed to look at her again. From then on, I avoided meeting her glaring eyes.
“Everyone here is guilty—and I am guilty as well.”
“I can’t stand any more of this grandstanding,” Wayne said and pulled down his vest. “This is like one of those cheap crime dramas on TV where you gather everyone together and call out the murderer—”
“Of course you can’t stand anymore,” Simon said quietly and pointed his finger at Wayne. “I know about you. You stole from Roger. You had a scheme going, and you systematically pilfered over the years. Notice I used the word pilfer. He knew you had accumulated nearly a million.”
“That is a lie—a terrible—”
Simon leaned forward and placed his arms on Wayne’s shoulders. “He had less respect for you than anyone in this room. You know why? He said you were a cowardly crook. It took you twenty years—twenty years—to steal a million. He said you took such small amounts and you could have taken more. He said you were a total coward.”
“That’s not true. Not true.” His voice lacked conviction, and he dropped his head.
“You were here in the afternoon. I saw Jason leave. I heard you with him. I know he showed you the letter and maybe the folder—whatever he wrote. He did, didn’t he?”
“No, he showed me nothing. We talked—we talked about a riverfront project at Brunswick. He wanted to dump the project after I had invested months of time and effort and—”
“Stop lying!” Simon said. “Stop talking. Listen!” When he had control of the group again, Simon said, “I have the documents—although I have not read anything.”
“So now you’re going to tell us that Roger entrusted you with them? You, a convicted criminal,” Tonya said.
“He didn’t give them to me, remember. I stole them.” Simon explained that when we rushed into the office, he saw the envelope on the desk. While everyone stared at Roger’s body, he pulled the envelope off the desk and stuck it in the back of his pants. “It’s like this. Wayne knew about the letter, and he knew about the documentation, but he didn’t know where it was. Possibly some of the others knew. I thought the police would get here last night, so I was going to hold it and give it to them.”
Everybody Loved Roger Harden Page 16
