“You didn’t kill him, did you Stephen?” she said.
He smirked. “I hate to cost you twenty-five thousand dollars but no, I didn’t kill my father. No reason to. He was going to die shortly anyway. I admit I had mixed feelings about him. He was a great businessman; truly a genius in the world of business and finance. As a father he was average. Not all that good but not all that bad either.” He quickly picked up his queen and moved her five spaces ahead. “Of course it’s not easy living in the shadow of a man who achieved so much and owned everything in sight. Or almost everything.”
“That would be difficult. It’s like being Frank Sinatra Jr. or the son of golfer great Jack Nicklaus. You’d always be in your father’s shadow,” April said.
“Yes, in a shadow means you’re in darkness. That’s especially difficult if you enjoy the light. There’s a metaphor there somewhere.”
April studied the board again. “Were you disappointed when your father sold the newspaper? You were slated to take it over.”
“Yes, I was very disappointed. I wanted to be the editor and publisher. I have a flair for writing and I can do layout. I had some ideas I think would have improved the newspaper. I regret I didn’t get to try them out. Of course, with my share of Dad’s fortune I could buy it back. The Daily News would only go for about ten million today. Maybe a little more. Probably get that much, and more, from the will. I might soon be your boss.”
She cautiously moved her queen two spaces. “You’d really do that?”
“I would like to.” He shook his head. “But no. Newspapers are not good investments nowadays. If the market were positive I’d buy the Daily News. But it’s not. Just too risky nowadays. I saw where the New York Times had another layoff recently. Almost a hundred more employees got pink slips. Jeff Bezos owns the Washington Post and he has fifty billion dollars. He can afford the losses. Most people can’t.”
“That’s a shame. I think you‘d be a good boss.”
He put his fingers on his knight. It quickly took one of her pawns.
“I didn’t see that,” April said.
“Get your opponent focused on one part of the board and he might overlook another part of the board. True in chess and true in life.”
“In life, what are you trying to take my attention off?”
He smiled. “Nothing really. I didn’t kill my father so I have nothing to hide. His death was not only a shock to me, it is a mystery. I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of why anybody would kill him when he didn’t have long to live. Still can’t think of a reason. Can you?”
“Not yet.”
She didn’t see any obvious moves he could make. Even so, she moved a bishop to a defensive posture, protecting her king.
“I talked briefly with Clay before we started playing, and he told me something which surprised me. Did you approve of your father’s sixty million request to fund the Fordham reparations?”
“I didn’t approve or disapprove. I understand why he did it and I certainly can’t quarrel with it. Wade and, to a certain degree, Clemmie doesn’t like the family name being muddied because it reflects badly on our parents. But if it’s a fact, you have to accept it. They were people, not plaster saints, or any other type of saints for that matter.” He picked up his queen, held it in the air for a moment, and then lowered it back to the board. “My father’s god was not in the clouds but in the bank. His god was money. He was proud of his achievements and he had a right to be. He accomplished a lot for one man. He was a very religious man and dedicated to his god. Mother’s god was her history room. She loved it. She loved the pretense that she came from royal linage and was a blessing to the community. She could stay drinking tea in that room all day and sometimes she did. Wade began to share her little fantasy, which I guess is harmless enough. There are worse hobbies than self-publishing flattering history books and books about your alleged ancestry. At least no one is harmed and you’re not harming yourself. So if you have enough money to maintain the image, so be it. Wade wants to move the history room to his mansion and even expand it. So be it. When mother died she was very happy that Wade would carry on her legacy. It became his goal in life too.”
He quickly moved the black rook and it took one of April’s white knights.
“Oh. I didn’t see that coming either. You’re rather stealthy, Stephen.”
“Only on the chessboard.”
“Ever have any disagreements with your father?”
“Sure, but it was the typical father and son verbal fights. Nothing serious. I don’t think my father was…well, let’s put it this way. Albert Einstein was the greatest scientist of the twentieth century, one of the greatest of all time. But he admitted he was not a great father. Perhaps if you have an immense talent in one area, sometimes you don’t have any talent or ability in another area. He fulfilled the role of a father but never really got comfortable in it or said the right things. I guess he had no authenticity as a father. But I’m not complaining. Life wasn’t bad, and there was the money.” He lifted his queen and moved it sideways. ”And your king is in check.”
April straightened up in her chair. “Another move I didn’t see coming.”
“I have more experience playing chess than you do. You have more experience being a detective than I do. Can you tell me if you’ve narrowed the list of suspects down?” He smiled as he said it.
She shook her head. “No, to be honest there are not many clues. It’s a shame you don’t have cameras in every room. That would have helped the case.”
April eased her king out of the danger zone. “By the way, and this may seem like a strange question, but I’d like to ask. The marriage between your parents…was it a happy one?”
“That is a strange question. I can’t see how it relates to his murder,” he shrugged. “Was it happy? I think relatively so. I don’t think it was unhappy. I think it was happiest when mother withdrew from the kitchen table conferences. In the early days here when my father and his friends had meetings around our kitchen table, mother was there. She had a good business mind herself. But more than anything else she enjoyed the world of art and theater and social parties with friends. She could have lived in the history room. It was like she had fought in the gutter for a while, been a part of the bare-knuckled business brawls which went on from time to time, and now she never wanted to see that world again. She wanted security and, yes, prestige for her family and she certainly got that. For the rest of the marriage she coasted but enjoyed, I’m sure, every day of it.”
He picked up a rook and moved it but didn’t take his fingers off it when he placed it down on the board.
“April, our family, is probably very much the same as any other family with parents and four children. We have strengths and our flaws, our weaknesses, and our fears, and we have some virtues. The traits are perhaps magnified in us due to the wealth of the Woodruffs, but not so much different from other families with flaws.”
He thought for thirty seconds then gradually lifted his hand from the black rook. He looked at April.
“You’re playing the same type of game we are on a larger scale. The murderer is moving his pieces and you are trying to checkmate him. I wish you good fortune.”
“Thank you. Frankly, I’m a bit puzzled. If he was already prepared to make the sixty million reparations project, what other secrets could he have? I assume he wasn’t dealing drugs or anything like that.”
Stephen laughed. “Nope, nothing like that. The only other secret in the city’s history was, who was the hit-and-run driver who killed Wyatt Matthews a quarter of a century ago. That crime was never solved. But I’m certain my father had nothing to do with it. There were things he wouldn’t do and running people down was one of them.”
“Hit-and-run driver? Wyatt Matthews? I haven’t heard of this,” April said. “What was this about?”
Stephen leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think this is connected to my father’s murder, but I can tell you what I know about
it.”
“Please do.”
“The city elections in Sea Oak are nonpartisan but my father, Sam Attlee, Jed Markatt, and their group controlled the city for a number of years. About twenty-five years ago an opposition began to organize. This was just before the election, which kicked out Dad’s group. Most of the people who formed the opposition party were new people who moved onto the beach section of Sea Oak. About that time, the city had a housing spurt on the beach. The new people who moved in…and there were a lot of them…had no allegiance to what was called the “Old Guard,” which was my father’s group. The newcomers were nicknamed the “Beach Party.” There are two-year terms here for councilmen so there’s an election every year. At that time the Beach Party had two candidates who had moved to the city about five years before. Wyatt Matthews was a Sea Oak native and at one time was friendly with the old guard, but he broke with them. He thought they were misusing taxpayers’ money. He was a veterinarian and highly regarded in the city. He had been approached about running and he was considering it and leaning toward challenging an incumbent. If Matthews ran, odds were he would have won. He was liked and respected in the town. The upcoming election was the first time the old guard saw a legitimate threat to their control of the city. Matthews hadn’t made a decision yet when he was hit and killed by a hit-and-run driver near his house while he was walking. He took a mile walk about three times week. Part of the walk was along US Highway 510, which is a busy highway. That is where he was hit. The driver of the car didn’t stop, he just drove on. He was never found. It’s a crime which is still unsolved to this day.”
April tapped her finger on the table. “The speed limit on 510 is sixty-five. If the driver was going sixty-five, there had to be some damage to the front of his car…and the car was never found?”
Stephen nodded. “Neither was the driver. I know the district attorney’s office chased down some leads, all which proved to be false. There was speculation that Matthews’ political enemies were behind the accident and that set off a backlash. I don’t think the old guard had anything to do with it and I don’t think Matthews’ death had anything to do with politics.”
“Why not? A candidate is killed on the eve of an election. That’s rather suspicious. It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out,” April said.
“But there’s two things Sherlock would have to take into consideration. Some members of the old guard played rough, such as Sam Attlee, but I don’t think they would stoop to murder. A few old guard members, such as my father, would never have been physical, much less murder somebody. As you have probably discovered, my father was not physically brave, and I’m sure he had moral objections to murder too. Plus, I don’t think the old guard felt like they were in any jeopardy of losing control of the council. They had won elections for twenty-five years, and I think they were confident they would win the next one. I think they underestimated the strength of the Beach Party. They had made a few decisions which rankled some citizens, but they had been in power for so long they figured they could get their people out to the polls and win again. If you’re that confident, you don’t need to kill an opponent. Murder involves a great deal of risk; you’re not taking a risk if you’re confident you’ll win.
“The death of Matthews sparked a backlash. No Beach Party candidate ever accused the old guard of killing Matthews, but they didn’t have to. A lot of voters whispered it and the rumor spread all over Sea Oak. The old guard received scrutiny like it never had before. Other questions were asked about how they governed the city. The Beach Party found another candidate to run. In the election that year they ran three candidates against the old guard incumbents and the Beach Party candidates swept the election…a clean slate. The old guard and their supporters were stunned. The first meeting after the election, about five city officials who were aligned with the old guard resigned. The city manager, city attorney, city clerk, city treasurer, and, let’s see, I think there was one more but I don’t remember who. Six months after that, the city police chief…the good friend of the old guard…resigned. He was getting elderly but I think the new city manager…a very honest man…also hinted it was time for him to retire. His assistant, who was a much better policeman, was appointed. After that, there was no trace of the old guard in city government.”
Stephen picked up his queen again and turned the piece around in his fingers. “And off the record, being perfectly honest, the election of the Beach Party candidates was the best thing that ever happened in the city.”
He slowly put the queen back on the board.
“You’re in check again,” he said.
April moved her king, and then smiled.
“I think you would have made a real good editor, Stephen,” she said
8
Jed Markatt sat on a chair on the balcony of his first floor room. He wore a pale green shirt with a darker green jacket over it. He held a drink in his hand. The forest outside his room dripped water from the leaves of the trees.
“Mind if we talk to you, Mr. Markatt?” April said after opening the door to his room,
He turned to look at her and Clay. “Well, our two earnest detectives. I didn’t do it. Melvin was an off-again, on-again friend of mine. We argued a bit and fought a bit but always stayed friends.”
“We understand.”
He picked up his cane and waved it. “Then come in. They were kind enough to give me a room with a portable bar. Make yourself a drink if you like.”
“No, thank you. We would just like to talk, not drink.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m having one.”
He raised his half-filled glass and took a swallow. “Why do you want to talk to me? I didn’t see anything; I have no idea who killed Mel.”
“We would like to talk to you about the past, not the last day or so,” Clay replied
“Anything particular about the past?” he said. He gave a sly and…April thought…malicious smile.
“The death of Wyatt Matthews.”
“I didn’t kill him either. I haven’t killed anyone for that matter.”
“That was a case which was never solved. We were wondering if you know anything about it,” Clay said.
Markatt kept his malicious smile and took another swallow of his drink. “Young man, I’m an agnostic, but if there’s a hell I’ll be going there, and it may not be too long before I depart. So why should I tell you anything?”
“Because it may be the last time to spill the truth before a tombstone goes your over head. And you can help us find the person who killed your long-time friend.”
“A shame Melvin went that way; he should have gone peacefully. He could play rough but he had more humanity than all of us. Tough, but he never had that killer instinct.”
“And you did?”
Markatt narrowed his eyes, and April thought he looked like a jackal. “If you were between me and something I wanted, sonny, you’d better step aside, or I would run you over. At least back in my prime.”
“Run over. Like in a car on Highway 510?”
His laugh was more like a cackle. “No, Matthews had nothing I wanted. I didn’t hit him with any car.”
“Who did, Jed?” Clay said. “You were in tight with Melvin and the gang. They were called the old guard a quarter century ago. Don’t know what they were called before that…probably something not all that complimentary. It’s time to speak the truth before the grave beckons you. If someone killed Matthews, you would know or at least have a good suspicion.”
“Why should I care? That was thirty years ago. Why should I care about who killed Melvin? I’ll be off soon myself.”
“If you don’t care, Mr. Markatt, then why not tell us? It can’t hurt anything.”
He grunted and looked toward the sky and chuckled He swallowed the rest of his liquor then offered the glass to Clay. “Fix me another bourbon and water, sonny, and I’ll answer your questions. Melvin wasn’t going to keep any secrets so why should I? Lawyer Gould told me abo
ut Melvin’s plan to set up a sixty million dollar reparation fund. Perhaps it is time for truth after all.”
Clay mixed the drink, brought it back, and handed the glass to Markatt. He raised it as if in a toast.
“A time for truth. You want to know who killed Matthews?”
“Yes,” April said.
“I never told anybody this, but Attlee knew something about it. I don’t think he was the killer, but he was involved. Sam never said so but I was a friend of his and I could read him. He didn’t usually get upset, but he was jumping like a spotted hen a few days after Matthews was killed. He muttered it was ‘a stupid thing to do.’ He knew more than he said. I could tell that.”
“Think he knew who the driver was?” she asked
“Yes and he wasn’t saying anything. I thought about that often. Weren’t too many Sam would take a risk like that for. In fact, I can’t think of anyone Sam would do that for. Sam was a big man and used his size to intimidate people, but he really didn’t want to put his own personal safety on the line. He wasn’t really a big risk taker, but he was keeping his mouth shut about Matthews…and it stayed shut. Taking a guess, I’d say he helped somebody and was having second thoughts about it.”
“Who would he help?”
Markatt shook his head. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t put his neck on the line for anybody. I always puzzled about that.”
“Did Melvin know who did it?”
“I don’t know…the honest truth. That’s from a man who hasn’t had too much acquaintance with honesty or truth.”
“Melvin said he would reveal secrets, secrets that would shake the town. That’s one secret that would shake the town.”
Markatt grinned and nodded. “That it would. Shake it to its core.”
“Attlee owned the Ford dealership for a long time. It would have a repair shop,” Clay said.
A Sea Oak Mystery Boxed Set Page 25
