“You want some coffee, Daddy?” Meg asked, getting up.
Phillip glanced at Elizabeth. “Your mother says I should drink decaf, which I think tastes like dishwater, but I want to make her happy.”
“The decaf is in the carafe on the counter there, dear,” Elizabeth pointed out. “And there are cinnamon buns warming in the oven.”
“I’ll pour if you’ll deal with the buns, Meg,” Seth said.
Five minutes later they were all supplied with coffee and food and crowded into the nook around its round table. Meg decided to start the ball rolling. “I’m going to guess that Arthur won’t have a lot of stamina, and the hospital may not want us to hang around too long. What’s most important to ask him, while we have the opportunity?”
Phillip raised one eyebrow at her. “Well, obviously, did he see anyone? Or hear or smell someone behind him?”
“Good one, Daddy. If it was a woman, there might be perfume or soap. Do men still use aftershave? Or anything scented?”
“Don’t look at me,” Phillip said quickly. “But if this person was unwashed or a drunk, that might be noticeable.”
“True,” Meg conceded. “Next, we ask him what state was the office in when he arrived. Neat or messed up?”
“That’s also a good point,” her father said. “How about, did he see anybody in the hallway or elevator when he came in?”
“Yes, of course. Did he have time to check for phone messages?” Meg thought for a moment. “I know you’ve sworn that Arthur didn’t have any enemies, but I’d like to hear it for myself, from him. I assume he’s been practicing law as long as you have—he may have made enemies you know nothing about.”
“Fair enough. How about if there have been any incidents in his life recently that he brushed off as mere annoyances at the time?”
“Of course, yes. Tell me, Daddy, is there any way this could be an attack on the both of you? Someone you defended or prosecuted together, in the past few years?”
“I hadn’t considered that,” Phillip said thoughtfully. “We should definitely ask Arthur if anything like that occurs to him. Well!” He clapped his hands together. “I’d say that’s more than enough for this round. I’m not sure if the police have visited him yet, but I’ll try not to cross any lines that might annoy them.”
“Good idea.”
Meg and Phillip left half an hour later. Before she joined her father in the car, she asked Seth, “You don’t have any nefarious plans for my mother, do you?”
Seth tried hard to look innocent. “Who, me? Although I believe she mentioned something about baby pictures.”
“Oh, God. I’m glad I won’t be here.” Meg shuddered.
“I can’t believe you were an ugly baby.”
“That’s very kind of you. I don’t think I was. More like ordinary. But remember, it’s not only the baby pictures—it’s everything up until I left for college.”
“Then you’d better come back and rescue me.”
“I’ll try, but once my mother gets started, she’s hard to stop.” She kissed him lightly. “Thank you for staying with her.”
“No thanks required. I like your mother, and I’d be useless at the hospital. It all works out just fine.”
Her father honked the horn in the driveway. “I’ve got to go,” Meg said. “I’m really hoping we find out something useful from Arthur.”
“Good luck. See you later!”
In the car Meg asked, “Where are we going?”
“Mountainside Hospital—it’s not far. You wouldn’t know it, since you’ve spent little time here.”
“And never needed a hospital, thank goodness. You called Arthur this morning?”
“I did. I’m not totally thoughtless—I wanted to be sure he felt ready for visitors, and I assumed you’d want to talk to him. The hospital will probably release him tomorrow—they’re keeping him an extra day because it’s a head injury, and he has no one at home to look after him.”
“Poor man. What’s he going to do?”
“He didn’t volunteer that information. I’ll check in on him, though.”
More likely her mother would take over that task, and would probably deliver ready-to-eat meals that Arthur could heat up himself. “He lives in town here?”
“He does. He introduced us to the town, and then we found the house, and we’ve all been here ever since.”
After a pause, Meg said, “Daddy, do you have any friends? I mean, that you’ve kept in touch with for years?”
His eyes stayed on the road. “Like from college or law school? Not many, I’ll admit. We keep tabs on each other through the alumni news, but we seldom see each other. Is your situation any different?”
“Not really, I guess. I’ve lost track of a lot of the people I was close to once, although we might be Facebook friends now. But I’m so busy I don’t have much time for social media.”
“But you like your life now?” Phillip asked.
“I do. And I have new friends. Maybe I just feel guilty because I don’t talk to you and Mother as often as I could.”
“Don’t you worry. We’re happy you’re leading your own life.” Phillip pulled into the driveway of a multistory brick building that Meg deduced was the hospital, and he drove around the back to park. Inside they were quickly directed to Arthur’s room, and Meg was relieved to see that he was housed in a general nursing area rather than one for critical care. He had indeed been lucky.
Phillip entered the room first. “Arthur, you look great!” he said, a bit more heartily than necessary. While they exchanged greetings, Meg studied the man in the bed. Her father’s age, of course; fairly broad in the shoulder, from what she could tell. She couldn’t begin to guess at his height, since he was lying down. His hairline was receding, and what hair remained was cut a bit shorter than Phillip’s, but close to the same color, and Meg could see that from the back they could be mistaken for each other.
“I told you I had a hard head,” Arthur said. “And this must be your daughter, Margaret.” The man extended a hand to her.
“Meg, please. It’s nice to meet you at last, Arthur, although I wish it could be under better circumstances. But at least it sounds like you got off with only minor injuries.”
“That’s what they tell me. Not even any stitches, just a couple of super-stick-ums. Well, you two, we should get down to business, before some dragon lady nurse comes along and tells me I need to rest. I assume you have questions?”
“Of course we do,” Phillip said. “We went over them at breakfast, so we won’t waste your time.”
There was only one chair in the room, and Phillip went searching for a second chair for Meg, so they could both sit down. They sat beside each other on the window side of the bed. Phillip quickly and efficiently launched into the list they had discussed earlier, but most of Arthur’s answers were less than helpful. No, he hadn’t seen anyone, anywhere, even in the hallway. He hadn’t expected to. He hadn’t heard the person who hit him, and couldn’t swear that he hadn’t already been in the room, maybe hiding behind the door. No, he hadn’t smelled the man—that question made Arthur laugh—although he was pretty sure it was a man. The only response of any value came when Phillip asked about the state of the office.
“Did it look as it always did, or did it look like it had been ransacked?” Phillip said.
“It looked the way it always did,” Arthur said, surprised. “If it looked like someone had broken in, I would have shut the door immediately and called the police.”
“If that’s true, then someone else tossed papers and the like around after he hit you,” Phillip told him. “Now we know that that happened after the fact. I regret that I didn’t look to see what papers they were, but I was more concerned about you.”
“I’m touched, Phillip,” Arthur said wryly. “Does any of this help?”
�
�Yes, because now we know that the scene was staged. What did the police ask you?”
“Honestly, I can’t remember. They realized they weren’t going to get any useful answers from me on the scene, and then the doctors took over. Did they search the office?”
“I don’t know,” Phillip told him. “I haven’t been over since this all happened.”
Meg had watched her father in action, but there were still some important points he hadn’t touched on, so she stepped in. “Arthur, I don’t know you very well, so forgive me for intruding, but is there anyone in your life, past or present, who might want to harm you?”
Arthur smiled. “Meg, I have led a very bland, boring life. I cannot imagine that I have angered anyone enough to attack me. But thank you for asking—I’m flattered.”
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I would have said the same thing if it had happened to me, but I keep finding myself involved in crimes.”
“Ah, yes,” Arthur said, “Your father has told me about some of your experiences. But you’re on your honeymoon now? Why are you wasting your time talking to me?”
Meg glanced at her father before replying. “I’d like to figure out what really happened before I leave. I’ve been hoping I can help, although that may be a bit presumptuous with two lawyers in the mix.”
Before anyone could say anything further, there was a rapping at the door, and Meg turned to see a uniformed policeman. Behind him stood another man who was not in uniform but who radiated “policeman” anyway. Phillip had stood up quickly and squared his shoulders.
The Suit Man did not appear happy to see Phillip; Meg he ignored. “Corey,” he said curtly.
“Chief Bennett,” Phillip replied in the same tone.
“We’re here to get Arthur Ackerman’s statement. You can leave now.”
Arthur sat up straighter in the bed. “Phillip is representing me.”
The chief turned his cold gaze to Arthur. “You think you need an attorney?”
Arthur didn’t back down. “No, but I am entitled to legal counsel. I want him here.”
For a moment all the men tried to outstare one another, while Meg pretended to be invisible.
It didn’t work. The chief turned toward her. “Who’s she?”
“My daughter,” Phillip said. “Margaret Corey.”
“She can go.”
Phillip looked at Meg and gave a small nod. Without a word Meg gathered up her coat and bag and left.
She had discovered one new fact: she did not like the police chief.
17
She stood in the hospital hallway, staring at the closed door and fuming. Whether or not Chief Bennett liked her father, he’d been just plain rude to her, and he’d more or less thrown her out. To be fair, there was no reason why she should be included in the statement or deposition or whatever it was, but he could have asked, not ordered. Was this his normal personality, or was it only her father that brought out that side of him?
What now? She had no idea how long this would take. Her father had driven them to the hospital, so he had the car keys in his pocket, and no way was she going to open the door and ask for them. Besides, where would she go? Sightseeing? Shopping? That was ridiculous, while they were in the middle of a murder investigation. Yes, murder. To her mind, the attack on Arthur had clinched that. Enrique’s death had been a murder, although it might not have been premeditated, no more than Arthur’s attack was. It appeared they were dealing with a killer who didn’t think things through or scout out his target locations before acting, and who was quick to resort to violence when things went wrong. Great profile, Meg: your suspect is dumb, careless, and violent, and we don’t know why he’s doing this.
She looked up and down the hallway. There were a few stiff plastic chairs along the wall opposite the rooms, probably for people just like her—overflow guests—so she sat in one. She rummaged in her bag, hoping she’d brought a book along. No such luck. She thought she’d call Seth, just to update him, but she wasn’t sure cell phone use was allowed in the hospital, and decided to text him instead, concealing the phone inside her bag. She typed only “Police chief here for Arthur’s statement. Daddy acting as A’s attorney. No idea how long.” She hit Send.
Seth texted back a minute later, but wrote only, “Up to third grade.”
Great. Seth and her mother were dissecting her entire childhood while she sat here in an uncomfortable chair, having been exiled because she was (a) unnecessary and (b) Phillip Corey’s daughter. Plus she’d been insulted, kind of. This was not going well. At least she didn’t hear any yelling from inside the room, and she hoped her father was controlling his temper, for the sake of his blood pressure.
It was close to half an hour later when the door finally opened, and then only in response to a nurse who insisted that Arthur had suffered a concussion and needed to rest. Chief Bennett stalked out first, giving her a curt nod, which was at least a small improvement, and he was followed by the uniformed officer. Her father did not emerge, so Meg stood and joined him and Arthur in the room. “How’d it go?”
“As well as could be expected,” Phillip answered.
“I really couldn’t tell them very much,” Arthur said, his tone apologetic.
“Arthur, I don’t know that it matters,” Phillip reassured him. “Chief Bennett is a very linear thinker. He sees each crime in isolation, but he’s not looking to connect the dots to find a pattern. Or a single perpetrator.”
“To be fair, Daddy, it’s not obvious if you don’t have all the details,” Meg protested. “You told him about the Amherst incident?”
“Yes, but that was as an addendum to his interrogation about Enrique’s death. I don’t think he paid much attention to it. We were both tired, and close to snapping at each other by then.”
“So there’s no real reason for him to connect those dots. What now?”
Phillip looked blank for a moment, then he nodded at Arthur. “I think we should let this man get some rest now. Arthur, can we give you a ride home when they let you out tomorrow?”
“I hate to be a bother,” Arthur protested.
“No bother at all. Just give me a call and one of us can get you home. Take care, now.”
“Thanks, Phillip. Nice to meet you, Meg.” Arthur raised a hand in farewell, and Phillip escorted Meg out of the room and toward the elevator. On the way he stopped at the nurses’ station for a word, giving them his phone numbers if they needed to contact someone about Arthur. Since Phillip was now his friend, his business partner, and his attorney, it made sense. As Meg went past the nurses’ station, she wondered how many police visits they had seen before, especially ones led by the chief.
Back in the car, Phillip quickly turned on the heater and they sat waiting for it to warm the car up. “What now?” Meg asked.
Phillip appeared lost in thought and didn’t answer immediately. Finally he said, “Frankly, I don’t know. Chief Bennett doesn’t appear inclined to pursue Arthur’s attack any further. He said there had been a spate of minor crimes in that neighborhood. He was going to send an officer to interview the other people with offices on that floor, but few people were there that early. He did say he would check whether the few stores along the street outside might have surveillance cameras, but I don’t hold out much hope there. Have you found any in Granford?”
“Daddy, our crime rate is pretty low. I do know some of the larger fruit farmers around have installed cameras around the perimeters of their orchards. Hard to believe that people would steal apples, but it does happen. The problem is, if there are motion sensors, a passing deer or dog or even a large bird like a turkey can set them off, which is annoying. If they trigger only a camera, then what do you do with that information? Who has the time to look at pictures of a flock of turkeys? So most people don’t bother.”
“Here in Montclair we’re too close to high crime areas
to be so complacent,” Phillip said. “Yes, our office is in an older part of town, but it’s been gentrified, so it’s not exactly a slum. But more to the point, Arthur and I believed that we had nothing worth taking. We don’t keep any money in the office, and nothing of value. The only thing that’s important are the files, and even those don’t go back very far. Anything from the last few years is in electronic form, not paper, save for those pages that require signatures. And even that can be done electronically now, or so I’m told. And they’re stored offsite—what is it you kids call it? The Cloud?”
“I’m not the right person to ask that, Daddy. Did you bring any older files with you, when you left your New York firm?”
“Only those that were not strictly proprietary. All open and aboveboard—the firm knew which files we took with us.”
Meg sat back, relishing the warm air from the heating vent, and thought. “That’s interesting.”
Phillip turned to her. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, if Arthur remembers correctly, the intruder hadn’t gotten around to looking for any files when Arthur walked in, but the intruder wanted the scene to look as though that was his goal, when he scattered some around. You really should go see if they were actually random—just papers pulled off a desk or something, not from a closed file.”
“Why would this person fake this break-in? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know what he was actually looking for, so he muddied the field. Look, if he had found what he wanted, he would have left the office and no one would be the wiser. Therefore, either he was interrupted when Arthur walked in, or he hadn’t even started looking. So he makes a mess to convince the police that he broke in and was looking for something like money, and then he hightails it out of there.”
“It’s plausible. Maybe. I should go to the office and check out what state it’s in, overall. The chief gave me permission, oh so graciously.”
Meg grinned. “You’re being sarcastic, I hope. Is he always that way?”
Seeds of Deception Page 14
