The Aquittal

by Anne Laughlin

  Tim was leaning with elbows on the table, coffee mug in hand. You’d think he was reminiscing about the first time he’d been kissed. “Eventually, I decided to end our relationship. She wasn’t that interesting beyond her photography. We have an arrangement now where I pay her handsomely for the autopsy photos of people I select. I don’t want thousands of photos of aneurysms or cancer cases. The photos I buy are of unusual deaths, all of them murders. But some murders are much more interesting than others.”

  Lauren got up and walked around the table, pretending to seriously study his collection. She looked at him. “I imagine the photos of Kelly would be the most interesting to you, if only because you were the one who put that hole in her forehead.”

  If Josie Harper was looking into other suspects as Kelly’s killer, Lauren might be able to put together some real evidence against him, which she could then use as leverage to free her parents. She knew Tim wanted her to think he’d done it.

  Tim turned his head back to the photo of Kelly’s brain.

  “I’m interested in all matter of murder. I find it fascinating to study the look on their face shortly after death.” He tapped on a photo of Kelly’s head. “Tell me the truth, sis. There wasn’t much in this noggin, was there? I mean, you went for her because she was gorgeous, not for her smarts, right?”

  “She was smart enough,” Lauren said defensively. “And a lovely person. She took good care of me. She wasn’t a trophy wife, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m trying to get a rise out of you. Clearly, I’m not the first to question your relationship with Kelly.”

  This was so tedious. Lauren was made of the same working parts as everyone else. She’d had a strong physical reaction to Kelly. She went for it. Why was that so surprising? She sighed and took a seat across the table from Tim.

  “Why did you come to Wade-Fellowes yesterday? You know it’s off-limits to you.”

  Tim didn’t seem in the least concerned. “Don’t threaten me with a restraining order again. You know who will pay the price.”

  “We had an agreement you’d stay away. So, I repeat, what were you doing there?”

  He shrugged. “I was taking some ladies out to lunch. I have my supporters, you know. A number of people were very happy to see me.”

  “And you happened to run into David Schofeld and decided to punch him?”

  Tim looked dismissive. “That’s not what happened. I was leaving with the group for lunch when Schofeld came in the room and pulled me into the corridor. He pushed me against the wall and threatened to call the police if I didn’t get out immediately. That guy is huge. When he pushed me again I punched him. Self-defense.”

  Lauren sat still, observing her own reaction to Tim’s explanation. She knew with ninety-nine percent certainty Tim was lying, because that was Tim. And she’d never known David Schofeld to lie. But he could sell anything; for a moment she thought of believing him. He really should have been in the sales end of the company.

  “How are Mom and Dad?” she asked.

  Tim was straightening Kelly’s pile of photos and aligning things precisely. “I was waiting for that question. You’re so predictable.”

  Lauren gave him a withering look. “I have a right to ask how they are, and you’re supposed to let me know.”

  “Says who?” Tim grinned.

  “Says anyone who has the least amount of feeling.” She knew now he had no feelings, that he was probably a sociopath, that he’d effectively stolen her life from her.

  “Well, that might not be me. I seem to have lost all my feelings, if I ever had them to begin with. It’s very liberating, sis. You should try it.

  “Mom and Dad are doing fine,” he continued. “I even brought them a TV and set up cable and bought some new books for them. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Of course I have to worry! I have to put my life on hold for them.”

  They were both silent for a while. Tim picked his up phone and seemed to be checking email, though she couldn’t imagine who he corresponded with. She’d never known him to have a single friend.

  “Tim, we have to bring this to an end. You can’t kill Mom and Dad. Whether you kill them or let them go, I’d tell the police everything. You’d spend a long time in prison, and I can tell you from personal experience you are not built to survive that kind of life.”

  “Yes, you could do that. If you were alive. I’d think by now you’d realize I have every angle covered. If you tell the police about this, they will never get the location out of me and Mom and Dad will simply die alone where they’re being held. If I get a whiff of you hiring help to find them, like the private investigator that visited me the other day, I’ll kill them. If I decide to give up on the kidnapping because it is becoming a bit tedious, you and John and Helen will die. Don’t you know by now how smart I am? Also, if I want to go to the office, I’ll go to the fucking office.”

  Lauren’s insides churned. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You haven’t given me one of your absurd assignments in days. Not that I want one, but that was the motivating factor for you, wasn’t it?”

  Tim smiled widely. “That was some fun stuff. Seeing you practically suicidal with shame was truly gratifying. But I’m a little over that now. I’m working on something else.”

  This sent a chill down Lauren’s spine. “Are you telling me I won’t have a hand in keeping them alive?”

  “Yes, you will. But I’m not telling you about it now.”

  Lauren leaned forward, her hands firmly planted on the photos of two dissected bodies. “You can’t drag this out any longer. Tell me what you want from me. Let’s get it done. I can’t take any more and I’m sure Mom and Dad are at the end of their rope. Do you want me to reinstate you as VP of operations? Would that do the trick?”

  Tim rose and headed toward the door, signaling their meeting was at an end. “You don’t understand a thing of what’s going to happen.”

  “My gut says this is ending soon,” said Lauren, “and not in your favor.” She was standing very close to Tim. “If killing me is the ultimate price I have to pay to get them released, then get it over with.”

  “I’ll keep all that in mind,” he said, holding the door for her. “Lovely to see you, as always.” Then he slammed the door behind her.

  Lauren felt like an idiot. Why had it not occurred to her that even if he decided to end the kidnapping, it would be by killing them? And her, too. There was no positive outcome for her parents unless they were rescued. Tim was apparently no longer interested in the strange ransom she’d been paying.

  She went to her car and pulled Stan Waterman’s number out of her pocket.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Josie got back on the Kennedy and headed for downtown. She was going to have to start eliminating the suspects she did have: Ann-Marie, Gabby, and Tim. She’d struck Nikki from the list because her alibi seemed sound enough; two friends she said she ate dinner with confirmed her story. The other two had no alibi at all. Gabby wasn’t on duty and couldn’t remember what she was doing seven months earlier. Ann-Marie’s was shaky. Same with Tim. But of all of them, Tim had the strongest motive—hatred of a sister he thought was more loved by their parents than he. Tim was a straight-out weirdo, with his costume changes and general creepiness. She decided to stake out Tim’s place for a while and see if it led to anything. Then she’d drive to Lauren’s place in the evening for more of the same. The hours this would take didn’t faze her. Her only issue was the perennial problem of the solo female on surveillance—how to pee and not miss the very thing you were waiting to see. Maybe she’d stop at Sportmart’s camping department and get one of those funnel things.

  She exited at Armitage and made her way into the heart of Lincoln Park. Her hackles went up whenever she was in the neighborhood. Armitage itself was beautiful with its vintage greystone buildings and their elaborate, decorated cornices. But it was lined with shops catering to a you
ng generation of wealthy shoppers that made Josie uncomfortable. There were custom-made cosmetics shops, one-of-a-kind clothing stores, and shops with baby clothes you won’t find at Babies-R-Us. This was pram country. Women wearing yoga pants pushed monstrous strollers down the sidewalk, giving the evil eye to every car stopped at a stop sign, as if the drivers planned to hit the gas and mow them down. She didn’t imagine Lauren would blink at the boutique prices here. Lucy, on the other hand, was a regular at the Howard Brown resale shop. She had a very down-to-earth sensibility and the income of a social worker. Josie thought again of the difference between Lucy and Lauren, which was night and day. She knew Lucy was a good person but she had her doubts about Lauren; there was a veil of mystery where there was only openness from Lucy. Josie felt more excited by and more comfortable with the dark and unknown. Lucy’s kindness was more suspect. She didn’t trust it.

  She found parking far enough down the street from Tim’s to be able to see the front door, but not so close that he would see her. She wedged herself behind a Mercedes SUV and in front of a Range Rover. Tim would probably enter and exit his house through the back, where the garage opened onto the alley, but there was no way to be inconspicuous there. No matter where she parked she was in front of someone’s garage door, or noticeable simply for parking in the alley. She settled in as best she could for what would probably be a purposeless few hours and thought about investing in a tracking device she could put on Tim’s car.

  She started doing an Internet search on trackers when she saw a car come up the street and pull into an illegal spot at the end of the block. She sat up straight when she saw Lauren get out of a Lexus. Then she dropped herself lower in her seat to avoid being seen, though there’d be little reason for Lauren to scrutinize a car halfway down the street. Lauren strode to Tim’s front door and laid on the door bell, several times, before using the knocker. After a minute without a response, she walked to the gangway on the side of the building and disappeared. Fuck. Josie started her car and tried to get out of its spot as quickly as possible, circling the street to come up the alley to check out Tim’s house from behind. She caught sight of Lauren at the top of the coach house stairs, a glimpse of shapely calves walking through the door of the top floor. She’d been studying those legs just a few hours before.

  Josie paused in the alley to see if anything was visible through her binoculars. Nothing. The windows were covered with heavily tinted material, like on a drug dealer’s car. There were multiple skylights on the roof. Josie wondered what he used the space for. Thoughts of carved-up body parts and gruesome instruments of torture filled her head, but she pulled back on the thoughts like yanking the line of a runaway kite. She knew her thinking often flew away from her, sending her down paths she should never follow. During the height of her mania she’d always followed the flight pattern of her crazy thinking. Now she was aware when she was being misled, at least most of the time.

  She stayed in the alley as long as she thought safe, leaving when a man came out with his garbage and gave her a suspicious look. It might have been merely a curious look, but Josie opted for suspicious and drove out of the alley and back in front of the house. There were no parking places open, so she idled by a fire hydrant. She wondered what they were doing. Didn’t they hate each other? She spent disagreeable hours with parents she didn’t like, but as far as she knew this wasn’t a requirement among siblings who hated each other. She was reaching for her coffee when Lauren emerged from the gangway.

  Once again, Josie wished she had a partner in the car with her, a team of people behind her. She didn’t know whether she should follow Lauren or stay with Tim. She wanted to send orders through a walkie-talkie and hear clipped acknowledgments in return. Instead, she let Lauren go, figuring she would head back to her office. Now that she knew the make, model and license plate number of her car, it would be much easier for her to pick up her tail when Lauren left the office for the day. She circled the alley again, hoping Tim might be leaving as well. When she slowly worked her way up the alley, she saw the garage door opening in his coach house and Tim backing out in a Jeep Wrangler. She could see the other car in the garage was a Porsche.

  Two hours later she was following him back from Oak Brook Mall where he’d emerged laden with shopping bags from Nordstrom and Bloomingdale’s. She was out of her mind with boredom, frustrated by the traffic on the Eisenhower. She parked on Cleveland to resume watching his house when Lucy called.

  “Hey, you,” Lucy said. Chipper, as always.

  “Hi, Lucy. You sort of caught me in the middle of something,” Josie said. She’d gone straight for the exit strategy, not in the mood to talk to Lucy, which felt a little rebellious. She knew she should want to talk to Lucy, to cultivate something with her, that she was good for her. That Greta would approve. All of that now seemed reason enough not to do it.

  Lucy’s voice was teasing. “I’m sorry. Were you about to make a citizen’s arrest? Take down a martial artist?” She waited for a response from Josie, who was scrambling to come up with one. She didn’t want to be a bitch.

  “No violence yet today,” she said, as lightly as she could. “But there’s still the night to come.”

  “That sounds like you plan on working tonight,” Lucy said. “I was hoping we could get together.”

  “I’m on this murder case, you know.”

  “And it’s not nine-to-five. I get it.” Lucy didn’t sound defensive, or particularly disappointed. This piqued Josie’s interest. Lucy seemed so sure of herself she couldn’t decide if it was irritating or attractive.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be,” Josie said. “But maybe I can come by later? I’d have to call to let you know how things are going.”

  The case was not going well. The only thing concrete she’d learned that day was how beautiful and smart Lauren was. Josie drifted into a fantasy of making love to her. Then she thought of the same thing with Lucy and her mind stuttered to a stop. Making love with Lucy had been nice. But nice was not a good word.

  “That’d be great,” Lucy said. “I’m working at the clinic until eight.”

  They rang off, and Josie felt uneasy. Lucy was like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle. She fit somewhere, but Josie hadn’t found where yet.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Lauren got onto Lake Shore Drive to return to her office. She pulled Stan Waterman’s number out of her pocket and dialed. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Waterman,” a distracted voice said. She thought she could hear Jeopardy in the background.

  “I hope I’m not calling at a bad time,” she said.

  “Not at all. I’m watching Celebrity Jeopardy. Please distract me.”

  “My name’s Lauren Wade. I got your number from Nancy Prewitt.”

  There was only a slight pause. “I just heard from Nancy. She mentioned you might be calling,” he said. “I know who you are, of course.”

  “I imagine most everyone in Chicago has some idea who I am. Believe me, I don’t say that to flatter myself.”

  “How can I help you, Ms. Wade?”

  Lauren liked him. She sensed his honesty and openness. Who would admit to watching Celebrity Jeopardy?

  “I do need help, right away, actually. I’m wondering if we could get together and discuss the details. Now, if possible.”

  “Name the place,” Stan said.

  They arranged to meet at Nookies in Old Town. She called Eva to cancel her meeting with the board, glad of any reason to avoid them. When she arrived at the restaurant, Stan was already seated. He stood as Lauren took a seat, and then she got right to the point.

  “Mr. Waterman…”

  “Stan, please.” She looked at him and felt he was a man she could trust to stay on her side. He was in his fifties and looked it, but he also looked like he didn’t care much what people thought of him, very comfortable in his own skin. She wasn’t sure the same could be said of her. She hadn’t had a day at peace with herself in months.

 
“Before I begin I need to ask you whether you’ve been hired by anyone else in regard to my murder trial and acquittal.”

  He looked confused. “No, I haven’t. Is there a reason to think I have?”

  “An investigator named Josie Harper asked me some questions today. I want to make sure you don’t have a personal relationship with her.”

  “I know Josie. I know she’s working on a murder case.”

  Lauren took a sip of water and considered this. “Interesting. I still don’t know who she’s working for. But not really relevant to what I want done.”

  A server came by and Stan ordered the chicken pot pie. Lauren got a chopped salad. “I’m having a serious problem with my brother and I need your help to resolve it. I’m sure you get a lot of cases involving family disputes, but trust me when I say this is a particularly egregious step taken by my brother.”

  Stan sipped his coffee, his eyes revealing nothing. “I was a homicide cop for a lot of years. There’s not much that’s going to take me by surprise.”

  “First of all, before we move forward, I have to ask for your word you won’t reveal this story to anyone, including any associates who work with you. If my brother finds out I’ve hired private detectives to help me, the ramifications will be horrible.”

  “Nothing will be done without your okay. Can you live with that?” Stan said.

  The food arrived and Stan dug in, prepared to listen to Lauren’s story while he obviously enjoyed his food. Lauren merely picked at her salad as she explained how Tim had kidnapped her parents, forced her to perform a series of humiliating stunts, framed her for a murder he committed, and now threatened to change the rules of the game.

  “The game?” Stan said.

  “Yes, the game he’s always played with me, but never before won. It’s the one where he tries to come off looking better than me and claim a victory of some sort. I don’t think he’s sane. I think it’s his way of dealing with our parents clearly favoring me and basically throwing their hands up with him. He was difficult as a child, and he never grew out of it.”