Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 09

by Prayers for the Dead

  Decker said, “Can we drop the discussion?”

  Rina was quiet. But a moment later, she started up. “Luke told you he saw Bram’s name on the magazine wrappers?”

  Decker stared at her. “Yes, dear.”

  “He said he saw Bram’s name.”

  “Yes, dear. Luke said all the wrappers had Bram’s name on them.”

  Rina said, “Luke told you, ‘I saw the magazine wrappers and they had the name BRAM SPARKS on them.’”

  “Rina, for goodness sakes,” Decker said. “He said he saw magazine wrappers with his brother’s name on them.”

  “Luke said the wrappers had his brother’s name on them, right?”

  Marge said. “Do you have a point, Rina?”

  “Luke didn’t say they had the words BRAM SPARKS on them.”

  “Rina, you are beating a dead horse!”

  “Can you just hear me out?”

  “Go on,” Marge said.

  Rina said, “Luke told you that in the back of his mind, he thought Bram was gay, right?”

  Decker nodded.

  “So what if the magazine labels just had SPARKS on them. Luke assumed they belonged to Bram. But maybe they belonged to another brother.”

  Decker said, “Rina, you’re stretching—”

  “Bram would protect his brothers.”

  “Rina—”

  Rina’s eyes got big. “Maybe, Peter, the labels said ‘A. M. Sparks.’ Or even ‘A. M. Sparks.’ You know there are more than one A. M. Sparks in Bram’s family.”

  As soon as she said it, Decker knew she had hit pay dirt. “What’s Bram’s middle name?”

  “Matthew.”

  “Oh my God!” Marge slapped her forehead. “The father!”

  “Azor Moses!” Oliver said. “They’re his magazines?”

  Decker buried his head in his hands.

  The father’s magazines.

  And that was why a Fundamentalist like Azor Sparks hadn’t fired Decameron even after he had been convicted of picking up male hookers. Excusing Decameron because the old man had been wrestling with his own similar demons. Azor Sparks had either been latent or led a very secret life.

  Had Bram known? Good chance of that. Because Azor had confided things to Bram. Perhaps he’d confessed his desires to his son. Especially after that fateful Sunday night dinner when Bram refused to equate evil thoughts with evil action.

  Giving Sparks a license to fantasize.

  Perhaps Sparks took it one step further and began with fantasy magazines. After all, Bram had relieved him of the guilt.

  At Sparks’s memorial service, Bram had spoken to Decker about his father’s distinctions between the homosexual and the homosexual act. Decker thought about that brief interchange in the Sparkses’ kitchen. His discussion about Decameron’s moral charges, about Azor’s loyalty to his colleague despite church rumblings. And about the religious way one copes with homosexuality.

  Either celibacy or sublimation in a legitimate heterosexual union.

  The fifth commandment spoke of honoring one’s father and mother. By enlarging upon the precept—what honoring one’s parents might mean to a man of the cloth—Decker began to put the pieces together. Abram Matthew Sparks, the priest who put God before American law, took the magazines as his own to protect his father’s name. Just as important, he was protecting his mother from postmortem embarrassment.

  Marge said, “Luke told us that Decameron had called him up, early in the morning, wanting to talk about the family. But not over the phone. Right?”

  “Right,” Decker muttered.

  “Maybe that’s what he wanted to tell Luke. That it may come out that his father was gay.”

  “He’d bother calling Luke up just to tell him that?” Oliver said.

  Marge said, “Maybe he wanted to spare the family some embarrassment and/or ridicule.”

  “Then why would he call Luke?” Oliver said. “Why not Bram?”

  Rina said, “Maybe Dr. Decameron felt Luke was more worldly about human foibles…being as Luke had been a user.”

  “Or the answer could have been much more pedestrian,” Decker said. “Bram had been occupied that morning. Very busy. First with Mass, then with his mother. Decameron knew Dolly Sparks hated him. He wouldn’t have called up the house.”

  “Aha,” Marge said. “Maybe that’s why she hated him. She found out that her husband and Decameron were having an affair.”

  “Nah, I don’t buy that,” Oliver said.

  “Why not?”

  Oliver said, “Margie, why would Decameron call up Luke to tell him about their affair?”

  “Blackmail,” Marge suggested.

  “Nah, Reggie was a good guy,” Oliver said.

  “You keep saying that,” Marge answered. “That don’t make it so.”

  Rina said, “So how did Dr. Decameron come to have Dr. Sparks’s magazines?”

  “Could be that after Azor died, Decameron went through Sparks’s office…to clean things up.” Oliver shrugged. “Maybe he found the magazines.”

  “Christ!” Decker was disgusted with himself. “The Fisher/Tyne data you two had requested. At Sparks’s memorial service, Decameron told me he was going to look through Azor’s files to find the most updated numbers. Could be he came across the magazines by accident.”

  Marge said, “Then Decameron took them home with him, intending to give them to Luke…to dispose of them as he saw fit.”

  “The magazines which had A. M. Sparks on the wrappers,” Rina said pointedly. “Having found them in his boss’s file cabinets, Decameron knew that A. M. stood for Azor Moses. But Luke didn’t know. He just assumed they belonged to his unmarried priest brother Bram. So I’m not so stupid.”

  “No, darling, you are not stupid.”

  Rina smiled. “You’re a good sport.”

  “I’m a lousy sport,” Decker said. “I’m pissed as hell. You know, Decameron may have also found Bram’s apartment key in Azor’s files. Maybe he thought his boss had a secret hideaway for his activities.”

  “What would Azor be doing with Bram’s apartment key?” Marge asked.

  “I’ve got a key to my daughter’s apartment in New York. In case of emergencies.”

  Marge said, “I still don’t understand why Bram would have kept his dead father’s porno magazines in his safe.”

  Decker frowned. “Because he was on his way out to visit a sick kid and didn’t know what to do with them. Because you don’t toss magazines like that in your apartment Dumpster. You hold them until you figure out how to get rid of them.”

  “You know what I don’t understand,” Oliver said. “I don’t understand why Dr. Azor Moses Sparks—Mr. Austere, By the Book, Elder, Pillar of the Christian Community—would have subscribed to those kinds of magazines using his real name.”

  “Arrogance,” Decker said.

  “Or he wanted to get caught,” Rina said. “Maybe he was planning to come out.”

  They all looked at Rina. Oliver said. “You know, Loo, she’s real bright—”

  “Yes, I know that, Scott.” Decker sat up. “So…if Azor Sparks were suddenly to come out of the closet…who would that impact on the most?”

  “His wife, of course,” Rina answered.

  “His wife,” Decker echoed. “Say she found out about her husband’s preferences. Say she confronted him. Maybe he denied it. But maybe he admitted it, even told her he was going to leave her. Think about it, guys.”

  “Here’s a woman who put in forty years with a man. Bore him six children, lived her life around him, developed her identity on the basis of being his wife. His parties were her parties. His dinners were her dinners. Through him, she had a role—as a wife, as a mother, as a leader in the church, as hostess of dinners and parties. She thought he was her soulmate, her heavenly match from God.”

  “Hell hath no fury,” Oliver said.

  “You’d better believe it,” Decker said. “What if he decided to leave her—sort out his feelings, wrestle
with his inclinations, make his own peace with God. Maybe he took it one step further. Maybe he had someone waiting in the wings—”

  “Decameron,” Marge said.

  Oliver said, “No way.”

  “What difference does it make?” Rina asked. “We’ll never know so let’s move on.”

  Oliver was taken aback. “She’s tough.”

  “Tell me about it,” Decker said. “The point is that we’re assuming Sparks was going to leave his wife for a lifestyle she considered odious and sinful. He was making a fool out of her, making a mockery out of her Fundamentalist religion, out of God. Most important, without Azor, Dolores had no role in life. If that was the case, if she had lived her life around this sinner of a man, what do you think she might have done?”

  The room fell quiet.

  Marge broke the silence. “It’s a big leap, Pete.”

  “It’s logical,” Oliver said. “She ices the old man, then maybe ices Decameron because she thinks he’s having an affair with her husband.”

  “Throwing the magazines around the bodies,” Rina said. “Like you always said, Peter. It looked like a calling card.”

  “That was me,” Marge said.

  “Oh, sorry,” Rina replied. “Anyway, someone was angry and wanted the world to know who Azor Sparks really was. I could see a spurned, unbalanced wife doing that.”

  “Why do you say unbalanced?” Decker asked. “Bram mention something to that effect to you?”

  Rina looked down. “Just that she had been a bit nervous when they—the triplets—were growing up. She couldn’t seek professional help because it would have been an embarrassment to her husband. So she turned to barbiturates. Dr. Sparks prescribed the medication himself, but left Bram in charge of dispensing them to her. She was addicted to them for a while.”

  Decker tried to keep his voice soft. “Might have helped if you would have told me all this in the beginning—”

  “Peter, are you saying I should have implicated Dolly in her own husband’s murder based on her past drug use?”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Besides, I couldn’t mention Bram without you having a fit—”

  “That’s nonsense!”

  “Is this really important now?” Marge asked.

  “No, it isn’t!” Rina stated. “What is important is Dolores Sparks hated Decameron. She probably felt he had stolen her husband. Either directly—as in they were having an affair—or indirectly—as in Decameron being a bad influence on Azor.”

  Marge gloated. “And like I always said, Kenneth Leonard was just an innocent bystander. He came to Decameron’s to clear his conscience about the fraud. Instead, he wound up with a bullet in his head.”

  Oliver said, “I think it still could be Fisher/Tyne.”

  “It could be,” Decker said. “I haven’t ruled out anyone…including Bram.”

  Rina folded her arms across her chest. “He would never, ever hurt anyone. He probably knew what was going on. He was protecting his father’s name, Peter.”

  Marge said, “Sounds to me like he’s protecting his mother from a murder rap.”

  Oliver said, “She couldn’t do it by herself.”

  “So she had help,” Marge said.

  “Who?”

  “Someone who’s been spending lots of time with the family.” Decker stood up from the table. “It’s time we pay Dolores Sparks a visit.”

  30

  “She’s unavailable.” Michael was hostile. “Next time call before you harass us.”

  “Sorry, but it’s important.” Decker sidestepped around him, entered the house, Marge and Oliver keeping pace behind him.

  Stunned, Michael hesitated before shutting the door. “You just can’t barge in here like that.”

  “Fine,” Decker said. “Kick me out. Make it obvious to everyone that you have something to hide.”

  Michael’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve got nothing—”

  “Where’s your mom? Upstairs?”

  “You pester my family, you arrest my brothers, you throw around ridiculous charges, you—”

  “Save it for the judge,” Oliver said.

  “Sorry about the intrusion,” Marge said.

  “I don’t believe this!” Michael raised his voice. “I’m calling my lawyer.”

  “You mean Waterson?” Oliver asked. “I wouldn’t call him if I were you.”

  Decker started up the stairs, Michael at his heels. “Detective Oliver is right, son. You don’t want to do that.”

  Michael said, “And why’s that?”

  “Ask your brother Bram. Bet he knows.”

  As Decker opened the door to the master bedroom, he was instantly attacked by a pair of burning green eyes. Bram was kneeling in front of his seated mother, his hands clasped around hers, a hunk of shiny metal between their interlaced fingers.

  A Beretta semiautomatic.

  Decker stopped at the threshold. With a hand signal, he told everyone behind him to halt. But Michael paid no attention, storming past Decker.

  “He just barged his way in, Bram. I—”

  Abruptly, Michael stopped talking when he noticed the gun. Eyes darting back and forth. Quietly, he asked, “What’s going on, Bram?”

  The room fell quiet. A cavernous place in beige and white, eerily lit by a couple of reading lamps posted on either side of the king-sized bed. In the corner was a desk piled high with papers. The drapes had been drawn—old, ecru things—worn and frayed.

  Dressed in a flowing caftan, Dolly Sparks looked at her youngest son, then returned her eyes to her lap. She was seated in a cream-colored wing chair, her shoulders hunched, her hair bedraggled. Bram was in his usual black garb. His voice was soft…controlled. He directed his words to Decker.

  “She’s suicidal. Can you please leave?”

  Decker whispered to Marge to call for backup. Oliver placed himself at Decker’s side, but kept the door wide open.

  Bram said, “Please, Lieutenant. A tragedy serves no purpose.”

  The priest’s face held a sweaty sheen. Decker said, “I can’t leave you two alone, Father. Not as long as she has a weapon.”

  Bram said, “Do you have an arrest warrant?”

  “No.”

  “Then please go.”

  “Under these circumstances, I can’t. I’d be negligent in my duties if I did.”

  “You’re hearing privileged conversation. You cannot use it against her. Because she wants a lawyer.”

  Michael said, “Should I call Mr. Waterson, Bram?”

  “No, don’t do that.” To Decker, Bram said, “Do you hear what I’m saying? She wants a lawyer. A real lawyer.”

  “I understand.” Decker paused. “So she told you everything. Or maybe you figured it out after Decameron was murdered—”

  “What difference does it make?”

  Tears ran down Dolly’s face, her fingers gripping the gun. “They’re coming for me, aren’t they? They’re going to take me away—”

  “Please, Lieutenant,” Bram was pleading. “If you won’t leave, at least don’t make matters worse.” He held his mother’s hands, pointing the gun away from her stomach. “Mom, I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you. I’ll be there for you. You know that—”

  “It’s too late,” she sobbed.

  “No, it’s not too late. Never lose faith, Mom. You taught me that.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes, you did. You taught me everything. You taught me that our Savior died for our sins. So that we may remember Him in our time of need, and remember His eternal love for us. He loves all of us, Mom, sinners as well as saints. He loves you.”

  Dolly was quiet. Decker’s hand moved imperceptibly toward his service holster. He undid the strap, his fingers tightening around the butt of the gun.

  Bram said, “The commandments teach us to love our parents, both our physical parents and our Father in Heaven. I love you very much, Mother. We’ll go through this together. But first, you have t
o give me the gun—”

  “The police know—”

  “Shhh—”

  “They know, Abram. They know!” Her watery eyes met Decker’s face. “I’m going to die!”

  Bram said, “No one’s going to die—”

  “It was all my fault—”

  “Mom, it wasn’t anyone’s fault—”

  “I wasn’t a good enough wife—”

  “You were a perfect wife,” he cooed. “A perfect wife and a perfect mother. We all love you very, very much. Your pain is my pain. Please let me help you.”

  “Why did he do this to us? Why did he do this to me?”

  “I don’t know, Mom—”

  “After all these years of devotion. I never strayed…not even in my heart. I never wanted anything else but to be a good wife to him.”

  “You were a perfect wife.”

  “Then why did he turn out that way?”

  Oliver crept up behind Decker, whispered in his ear, “Backup’s coming.”

  “Mom?” Michael said.

  Dolly raised her eyes to her youngest son.

  “Mom, I love you, too.”

  Dolly didn’t answer.

  Michael said, “Mom, please give Bram the gun. We’ll take care of you. Please.”

  Dolly returned her eyes to Bram. “Why would he desire such a vile thing, Abram?”

  Michael’s eyes were questioning. But Bram’s were full of understanding. “I don’t know why God makes people the way He does. We’re not meant to know.”

  “Why did you give him your blessing, Abram?” Dolly blurted out angrily. “How could you, of all people, give him permission to sin so gravely?”

  “I never gave him my blessing, Mom.”

  “You gave him permission by saying it was healthy to fantasize. You told him it was okay—”

  “Never, Mom.”

  “That’s what he told me.”

  “I never gave him permission to sin, Mom,” Bram said quietly. “I never gave him my blessing. What I did say is…”

  He cleared his throat.

  “I told him I’d love him no matter what path he felt he had to take.”

  “By your acceptance, you encouraged him!” she said vehemently. “You encouraged him to sin and you damned him to hell! You damned me to hell!”