by Ben Zackheim
"Don't think you can lecture..."
"That won't work. This isn't about me. Or me being respectful of my elders. You can't hide behind that. Not now. You've broken the law. Worse that that, you've betrayed your friends and neighbors. And even worse than that you've manipulated your own family in this game, including your son. I don't know what you hoped to achieve with Eric. Is he your fall guy? He told me that the house is a great place to hide secrets. And not just once, but twice. That clue led me to find the stolen goods on the security cameras. He's not strong in the subtle department. He mouthed his lines before he said them. And why would he allow you to store the stolen goods in his bedroom? I know that he couldn't be the crook because Mrs. Hoffman would have seen it when she went into his room." I fail to mention that I know she went into his room because she appropriated a personal item for toilet-dunking.
"I am not framing my own son, if that's what you're suggesting," J.L. says, coldly. He's glaring at me like he doesn't enjoy my company much anymore.
"Fine. I'll believe you. Maybe you thought you could just throw your weight around and get him out of whatever bind you got him in. But then why do all of this, Mr. Graham? To prove you're better than me? I followed every clue you laid out and they all led me to you. Is it just a game? What's it mean that you could be standing in a house that's worth millions of dollars, with a family that loves you and still feel like you need to defeat a teenager in a battle of wits?"
I don't think anyone is taking a breath in this silence. I'm certainly not. I think he assumed I'd be his puppet when the game was over.
He doesn't know me very well.
"You are a confident person, Ms. Link," J.L. says. "But that does not give you the right to talk to me like this. I assure you I'm innocent."
"So you'd like to hire me to be on your security team because I've come up with a clever and incorrect conclusion?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Look at the facts. You're probably right about the infected laptops and the number of people involved in the actual robberies. I'd say that justifies a job offer."
I'm not biting. It's possible that every person in this room could leave with J.L.'s secret safe. But not with me. He can't buy me out. And he knows that. I think this is the final test.
"One more thing bugs me, Mr. Graham."
"Tell me what troubles you, young lady."
Oooooh, he's pushing my buttons now. Calm. Stay calm.
"Why make all of this so obvious? Once I pegged you as the mastermind it didn't take very long to put everything together. It's all very clever, but it's also like having a big neon sign pointing right at you." J.L.'s expression dims a bit. It's hard to read. I can tell that the smirk is fake now, but his eyes stay focused, strong... He's pretty unreadable. I wouldn't want to play poker with him. But I suspect he knows what's about to happen. "I think if you wanted to get away with this you could have. Which would mean you're either not as clever as I thought, or you want to be caught. Why else would you orchestrate an entire town and your whole family to literally spell out your guilt?"
His smirk is gone. His eyes dart around the room. He's checking people's responses. Some of his family members are whispering to each other. He's going to try to regain control of the room now.
He starts a slow descent from the stairs. He speaks in a measured tone, as if he's careful of every word he allows from his mouth. "Let me be perfectly transparent. I had nothing to do with the robberies. I'm offering to replace the stolen items because I suspect that someone here, someone from my family, is guilty. I will not sanction this kind of thing." He stops walking and looks down at me. Then he smiles. It's not the kind of smile that reaches the eyes. It's a sad smile. "I am this thing. Now please leave my home," he says.
I am this thing.
That's it. That's the final clue. It's a riddle. And a good one, too. A tragic one. Poor Mr. Graham. I've gone from being furious at him to feeling so badly.
I walk toward the door with a room full of eyes on my back. I'm actually surprised that Jacob is right behind me. He catches up and I whisper, "Are you sure you want to come with me? He could probably use you right now."
"He has to lose this game on his own."
"Don't judge him yet, Jacob," I whisper. "He laid out one more clue for us. And it's a doozy."
We walk out the door.
Chapter 12
We sit on an uncomfortable bench. It's perched on a small hill above one of the estate's beautiful wildflower gardens. Things are about to get much more uncomfortable. I'm going to tell Jacob about the last clue and he's not going to like it. It's actually part clue, part human nature, but I'm positive Mr. Graham knew I'd pick up on it.
"Your dad wants to be caught," I say.
"What? Why do you say that?"
"He just told me."
"Funny, I must have missed that part.
"Not with words, but when you live in a world of deception like I do it's as clear as words. You told me yourself that he hasn't been himself since his wife died. He's been driven to 80 hour work weeks. He's mean, even petty. I mean, this whole ego trip, The Birthweek, is way out of whack. When did the tradition start? Before or after your mom's death?"
"After," Jacob mutters.
"Your dad comes across to me as an exhausted man. Someone who's spent his life pursuing one goal, achieved it and then lost all hunger for it when his heart broke."
Jacob listens, unmoving.
"How does anyone cope with that?" I continue. "Sometimes by doing a lot of stupid things, I think. I've learned a lot from my mom. She deals with human nature every day in her job. The good and the bad. And she always tells me how people can get caught up in bad habits that their family sets up. Not on purpose. Just because we get used to it. I think J.L. Graham, after a lifetime of distancing himself from his dad and being his own man, got hurt badly and let his guard down. Now he's following in your granddad's footsteps. He's going to jail because that's what his dad did. He's making mistakes and rebelling against his community because that's what his dad did. We all do it to one degree or another. It's even possible when we're grown ups if we're not careful."
I spot a frown on Jacob's face. I'm saying too much.
"I'm sorry, Jacob. I'll stop."
"No. Keep going."
I get ready to object but he shoots me a look that tells me he's dead serious. "Okay. So. I imagine a man who does everything to escape his past. Goes off to become the first Graham to go to college. Builds a fortune across the globe and then, after resisting the pull of home for so long, he goes back to the one place where his dad always got into trouble. Then he loses your mom. His anchor, as you called her. He's left with four kids and he throws himself into preparing them for a world that's dangerous, unfair, petty. And, on top of all that, he puts in 80 hour work weeks to stay on top."
Jacob is grabbing his knees so tight that his fingertips are going white. "How can you know all this?" he asks.
"I suspected it from things you've told me about him, and just seeing how he behaves. But the biggest clue was the last thing he said to us before we left your house. He was so careful in what he said that it made me suspicious. He didn't rehearse the lines but he gave every word a lot of thought. And what he said was filled with auto-atonyms."
"What's an auto-atonym? It sounds like a robot."
"No, an auto-antonym is a word or phrase that can mean itself and its opposite."
"How is that possible?"
"Like oversight. It means supervision and it also means missing something. To screen is to both show, like screening a film, and to hide."
"So what did he say? I don't get it."
"He said he wanted to be transparent. Which could mean he wants to be clear or that he wants to be obviously lying. He said he would replace the stolen items which could mean he'll buy new ones or that he'll place the stolen items back where they belong. And then he said he wouldn't sanction this kind of behavior. Sanctioning can mean approving something or penal
izing it."
"But... couldn't that be a coincidence? It's also the kind of stuff I hear him saying on his conference calls a lot."
"No. Because he ended with, I am this thing. I think he was telling us that he is an auto-atonym." I let Jacob think about it. I take the time to ponder it some more, too.
"He's himself and what else? His dad?"
"He's a son and a father. He's good and bad."
"Two sides of a coin," Jacob mutters.
"You said he found my name interesting. Link. It means to bring together and to connect. When you see a link you understand things better."
"So you're saying that he did all of this to see how things link together better?"
"I don't know why he did it. He might not even know. But it's the only thing I can think of to explain why he would risk everything to play some weird game."
He leans back on the bench and puts his hands over his face. I give him time to think about it.
His cell phone rings and he answers it immediately.
"Hi, Dad."
My mom always talks about how there comes a time in every young adult's life when they have a conversation with their parents that requires them to be the grown up. It hasn't happened for me yet, but I'm witnessing it now. Mr. Graham is asking his son for forgiveness.
"Yeah, I can do that," Jacob says. "Just give me his number and I'll get it going." Jacob glances over at me. He looks tired. Sad. Determined. "I know, Dad," Jacob says to his father after a moment. "But that doesn't justify what you did. Okay. Bye."
He hangs up the phone and puts his face in his hands. He's not crying. Not yet.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"He's lawyering up," Jacob mutters. "He wants me to help run the estate while he works things out. Last thing in the world I want to do, but he said, Welcome to adulthood."
"That's not fair."
"Who said anything about fair?" Jacob says. He's angry. I let him cool down, then I hand him a cookie. He smiles and glances up at me, barely able to keep eye contact. "He was quiet about it, Shirley. He never let on. He hasn't been himself for years, so I guess I'm not surprised. But if I'd known he'd pull something like this I would have warned you."
"I know that." Before I break the uncomfortable silence with some babble, he looks over at me and says, "All of what you just said... I don't know. But I think you're right."
Phew. I mean I just accused his dad of being a crook. A complex crook, but still. I had no idea what Jacob's response would be. I know this will change our friendship. I'm not sure how. I'll wait. I care enough to wait and see. I just hope Jacob does, too.
"Can I do anything for you?" I ask.
He smiles. "Just don't give up on me."
And with that, I know for a fact that, as tough as it is to be friends with him sometimes, it's all worth it.
Did you enjoy Shirley Link & The Party Poopers?
Please leave a review for her at amazon.com/author/benzackheim
Shirley's other adventures are available for your Kindle, or in softcover:
Shirley Link & The Safe Case
Shirley Link & The Hot Comic
Shirley Link & The Treasure Chest
Shirley Link & The Black Cat
Plus, enjoy 100 new riddles in Shirley Link & The 100 Riddles!
