Sealing Fate Read online

  “I'm Lloyd Martin,” the man said, extending a hand to Brian.

  Brian awkwardly shook it with still-cuffed hands, briefly nodding. Each took a chair as the guard closed the door behind them.

  Lloyd opened his case and pulled out a notepad. He wasted no time. “So tell me the whole story. I'll tell you if it sells.”

  Brian spoke of his affair with Cathy and of being at home with Barbara at the time of the murder. He went through as many of Michael's calls as he could remember. He talked about the call back from the woman he now knew was Michael's secretary. Lloyd seemed to like that fact, twice underlining the note and placing an asterisk in the margin.

  Brian told him about meeting with Jason Ross and trying to find out who would want Jason dead. He told of the list of names he had gotten from Jason and making his way down the list to Michael. Lloyd seemed to like that part too, again marking his notes. Brian told him about obtaining the custodian's uniform to walk into the building and up to the executive floors without detection so he could confront Michael by surprise. He told Lloyd about Michael's admission and his insistence that Brian remain the suspect in order for the affair to be concealed.

  Lloyd sat back in his chair, tapping his pen against his notepad as he reflected. “I took the liberty of talking to Barbara because I saw her out front.”

  Brian nodded, unsure of what to say.

  “What I'm not clear on is where Hayward got the gun and why he produced it at all. I mean, he thought you were still the prime suspect, right? So why pull a gun in your own office?”

  Brian nodded thoughtfully and fidgeted uncomfortably, hoping his nervousness wasn't detectable to Lloyd. “He seemed to get the gun from in or on his desk; I'm not sure which. As to why, I guess it was panic. I told him about the call back from his secretary and that I knew he had made one or more of the calls from his office. I could see it was true in his eyes. I think he panicked.”

  Lloyd reflected for a moment and then nodded, apparently satisfied. “I've set the wheels in motion. You'll appear before a judge tomorrow morning, and by then, I expect to have enough put together to make sure bail is granted.” He stood and shook Brian's hand once more.

  “Thank you, Mr. Martin. I really appreciate that.”

  Lloyd called for the guard to let him out and then shook Brian's hand again. “I know you've never been stuck in this kind of a place. Has to scare the shit out of you. But don't worry. We'll get you out of here.”

  Brian nodded as Lloyd walked quickly out the door.

  At nine thirty the next morning, Brian was on his way home. He had entered a plea of not guilty and was released on fifty thousand dollars bail after a fifteen-minute hearing. A conversation in the judge's chambers consumed ten minutes of the hearing, during which Lloyd carefully described Brian's background, character, and the facts depicting him as Michael's victim.

  The prosecutor, who appeared seasoned by comfort level and knowledge, seemed fully apprised of the facts and offered no disagreement. When Lloyd had finished, the judge released Brian with an apology that the bail was so high, explaining that, in a capital case, it was required. Brian thanked the judge for his understanding, and he was soon on the street thanking Lloyd, who said he would be in touch within the next couple of days.

  Barbara had been waiting in the courtroom. She drove Brian home, expressing her happiness at his release. Brian did little more than acknowledge her and was silent for most of the ride. When they got home, she parked the car and then hugged him and held on tightly. He sat motionless.

  “Let's go inside.” Brian heard the icy chill of his own words, but there was no way he could make it sound differently.

  Brian walked into the living room and then turned to look at Barbara. He stared at her, conveying anger and disbelief in the same fiery expression.

  “I did it for us, Brian,” she said when she saw his glare. “Don't you understand? I did it to save us.” She spoke the words in desperation, as if they otherwise might not be heard. “You were going to throw away everything we had.”

  “How could you be part of killing her? Of framing me for murder? You set me up to murder a stranger, to make me a killer too. Jesus, Barbara, it's monstrous! What about Lindsay?”

  “I had to get you back, Brian. You don't know how it feels to lose the only person you've ever loved. I was losing you to her.” Her eyes began to cloud over with tears. “Did you love her?”

  “I don't know. But I cared about her.” He put his hands on his face and then pushed them up and back through his hair. “And you killed her, just as surely as if you pulled the trigger yourself.”

  “I love you,” she said, choking on her tears. “This is all because I loved you so much that I couldn't let her take you away from me and everything we spent our whole lives building. Can't you see that?” Uncontrollable sobs punctuated her words.

  Brian was silent for a few moments and then said softly, “No, Barbara, I can't see that. I just don't understand how you thought murder and blackmail could bring me closer to you. How could you think that what you and Michael did would make things all right?”

  He left her crying and walked outside on the patio. The sense of tranquility that usually awaited him in the seclusion of the patio was nowhere to be found. The sky was overcast. The bulging pillows of black clouds were ominously threatening. The usual array of singing birds was deafeningly silent. Brian had never felt so alone.

  Brian sat in the stillness, staring out into the blackness of the night punctuated only by sporadic lights at various distances that cast hypnotic rays at his eyes. He didn't know how long he had been sitting alone when he felt Barbara's hand on his arm. He didn't pull away. He just turned slowly to look at her face, suddenly noticing the sadness in those eyes that had been a part of him for so long. He felt a deep despair. He put his hand on hers and looked away, back out into the dark night sky.

  “Brian.” She paused until he turned to look at her. “I'm sorry, but I have to ask you about what happened when they questioned you.”

  He looked at her quizzically.

  “What did you tell them? About me, I mean.”

  “Just what you suggested,” he said harshly. “He pulled the gun, I struggled with him, the gun somehow came loose, and you used it to protect us.”

  She let out a deep breath and nodded, squeezing his arm. It hadn't occurred to him until then. She had been worried that he had implicated her. It must have been a tough thirty-six hours for her.

  “There were a couple of things that we never discussed. Like the gun, they asked me where it came from,” she said.

  Brian nodded. “They asked me that too. I told them that he got it from on or in his desk, but I didn't know which. I said it happened too quickly.”

  She nodded concurrence. “One other thing. What about how we got there and who got there first?”

  “I told them I used the maintenance uniform to get in, that I went there alone and you showed up just a few minutes later.”

  She sat down and leaned back in the chair.

  “Does that work? I mean, is it consistent with what you said?” Brian asked.

  “Yes, it works. I told them I saw you walk in and followed.” She put her hand on his. “Thank you, Brian.”

  He nodded briefly and then returned to surveying the darkness.

  Chapter 24

  Brian lay on the couch around two in the morning. His fitful sleep didn't begin until almost four. Disquieting dreams of amorphous shadows lying in wait and faceless attackers stalking the unsuspecting interrupted his sleep. He woke up sweating with the ringing of the telephone working its way into his consciousness. He glanced at his watch. It was eight thirty.

  “Hello?” Brian said in raspy, morning voice tones.

  “Brian? This is Lloyd Martin.”

  There was a click and a greeting from Barbara on the upstairs line.

  “I'm glad you're both on. I've got some news,” Lloyd said.

  “What is it?” Brian asked
anxiously.

  “I think we can eliminate any possibility of charges against either of you and get the whole thing wrapped up quickly.”

  “Really?” Barbara asked with excitement in her voice.

  Somehow that familiar tone made Brian feel saddened. He had no idea why.

  Lloyd continued, “Ray Fernandez is on the case at the DA's office. We went to law school together and have a good relationship. He's a smart guy and a good prosecutor, but he's reasonable. He invited us over this afternoon to have you tell him the story. He already thinks you guys are clean and there should be no charges.” Lloyd paused to let his words sink in. “So if you're up for telling it again, we have a two o'clock appointment.”

  “We're up for it,” Barbara said.

  “Brian?” Lloyd asked.

  “Sure,” he replied after a moment.

  “I'll let them know we're on and meet you there at two,” Lloyd said. “Anything else I should know before we go?”

  Barbara was quick to respond, “I can't think of anything.”

  “No, nothing,” Brian added unconvincingly.

  “Good. I'll see you there.”

  Lloyd was waiting for Brian in Barbara in the lobby of the DA's office when they arrived at two o'clock. They shook hands. Then Lloyd turned to a secretary who sat behind a waist-high partition. “We're all here.”

  She gave him a smile. “Okay, Mr. Martin, please follow me.” She stood and turned to a door behind her. There was a buzzing sound, and she pulled open the door. She led them down a long corridor to a conference room.

  Most of the room was taken by a large oval table, surrounded by six swivel chairs. A short Hispanic man with thinning black hair and a black mustache stood to greet them. He smiled widely as Lloyd introduced them. The man defied the tough-guy prosecutor image.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Madsen,” he said warmly.

  Ray was pleasant, disarming, and unthreatening. He made a point of making sure everyone had coffee and a modicum of small talk before moving on to more pressing subjects. He had deep-set green eyes that emitted kindness as well as intelligence.

  “Just for the completeness of my notes, I would like to hear the whole story from Mr. Madsen.” His tone was encouraging, as if they were friends chatting over afternoon tea.

  As Brian spoke, Ray listened carefully, asked questions at logical breaks, and allowed Lloyd the opportunity to add or clarify on their behalves as he deemed fit. Ray nodded supportively as details were forthcoming. Occasionally he added acknowledgment of how hard it all must have been, for Brian being a likely suspect in a brutal murder and for both of them dealing with the blackmailer.

  When they finished speaking, he had the coffee cups refilled and then said, “I'm sorry for all you've been through. We'll try not to make it any more burdensome than it has to be from this point.” He paused briefly. “I can tell you that we've confirmed that Michael was your blackmailer. We confirmed that one of the calls to your house came from Michael's office. We've also had a helpful conversation with his secretary.”

  Ray smiled warmly. “I just want you to know that we already have support for what you're saying. Anyway I expect little difficulty in promptly completing the investigation and clearing you both of all charges without much inconvenience.”

  He thanked them for coming and walked them to the door. Ray and Lloyd shook hands and exchanged pleasantries about their families. Then there was a final round of good-byes, like old friends parting company as they reached the door.

  Once outside, Lloyd smiled and shook hands with Brian and Barbara. “Nothing left to do now but wait for confirmation that all charges are being dropped. You saw how it went in there. I think it will all be done within the next few days.”

  They thanked Lloyd and then walked to the car in silence.

  At four thirty, the telephone rang. Brian came in from the patio, where he had spent the bulk of the day since leaving Lloyd, and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Madsen?” It was a male voice he couldn't place.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Officer Palmer.”

  “How can I help you, Officer?” Brian felt his stomach knotting.

  “Sergeant Merrick asked me to give you a call and let you know we've got some good news. We found your friend Bob. He's alive.”

  Brian leaned forward for the first time in too many days, feeling the rush that comes from something good. “Where is he?”

  “He's in Westside Hospital. Been there a couple of days.”

  “How bad is he hurt?”

  “He's stable and doing well. Couple of broken ribs, left arm and right leg broken, the leg in a couple of places, concussion, and a lot of lacerations and abrasions. We'd have found him sooner except he was admitted without identification and he was unconscious.”

  “Thanks for the call and for finding him. I'm on my way over there,” Brian said quickly.

  He hung up and yelled across the house, “Barb! They found Bob. He's going to be okay.” He grabbed his coat from the hall closet as she came into view. “I'm going to the hospital to see him.” Brian regarded her somber look. “You want to go along?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I want to see him. Thank God he's alive.” A sob came from deep inside her, and she began to cry uncontrollably.

  Brian walked over and put his arms around her. She sobbed uncontrollably from the guilt, the relief, and the regret of everything she couldn't undo.

  * * *

  Brian walked into the hospital room and searched for Bob's bed. Bob's eyes found Brian at the same time he saw and surveyed his friend, bandaged seemingly from head to foot. His right leg was in a cast and hoist into the air on a system of cables and pulleys. His left arm was casted and bound to his chest. A bandage reached across his abdomen from chest to waistline, and another covered his forehead. Scratches, tears, and bruises adorned his face. Brian walked over to Bob and hugged his head, conscious of the fact that any touching might hurt given his condition.

  “Ouch,” Bob whispered.

  “That's it? Ouch? I've been looking for you in every sleazy place in town, and all I get is ouch,” Brian said jokingly.

  Bob let out a pained laugh. “You were just a little premature. I'm going to those places next.” He let out a laugh and then a grimace at the pain it caused him. “Damn, broken ribs aren't good for your sense of humor. Hi, Barb. You okay?” He made a reaching gesture with his better hand.

  She touched the hand softly. “I'm fine, Bob. Much better now that I know you're going to make it.”

  Brian sat in a chair beside the bed. “What happened?”

  “First, what happened to you guys? Someone was seriously out to do some harm,” Bob said weakly.

  Barbara opened her mouth to speak, but Brian spoke first, “We figured out who the blackmailer was. We confronted him, and he's dead.”

  “Jesus. You don't mess around.”

  “What happened to you, buddy?” Brian touched Bob's hand gently.

  Bob shook his head as best he could. “It's too damned embarrassing to talk about.”

  “Embarrassing?”

  “Yeah, the client catches the bad guy while I get the shit beat out of me.”

  “That happens from time to time in your job, right?”

  “Not like this. I think I'll leave this one off my résumé. Un-fucking-believable.”

  Brian grinned. “Tell me already.”

  “First day I took on your job, well, you know it wasn't just another case. I had a friend who needed the skills I had, so I wanted to go all out. Nail the son of a bitch and give you guys some relief. I make calls to my office to get the investigation underway. I decide I'm going to stop at my place, change, and then go see what's his name. Jason Ross. I walk into my house reading the mail, oblivious to the signs of a break-in at my own house that I'm trained to be on the lookout for anytime I enter anywhere. I'm inside maybe ten seconds when I get zapped with something, and down I go. Next thing I remember, I'm t
ied up and gagged in a small, dark closet I don't know where by I don't know who.”

  Brian smiled. “That could have happened to anyone—-”

  “Maybe so, but I'm not done yet. It gets worse.” He moved his chin awkwardly. “Brian, you want to scratch my left shoulder. It's driving me nuts.”

  Brian scratched softly and heard a groan of relief.

  Then Bob continued, “Anyway I start working on the ropes that are binding my hands behind me. I'm rubbing them against a not-too-sharp doorjamb, so this is a big project. Maybe eight or nine hours go by. I'm just about loose when the door opens and he sees me moving. He hits me again. I'm out cold again.”

  Brian smiled.

  “Yeah, real funny shit. Anyway, I wake up I don't know how much later. There's another rope, and it's tighter than ever. I start working at it again. I finally get loose, untie myself, and work my way out of the closet. I'm in this lakeside cabin all alone. I go outside and look around, but there's nothing but woods and lake in most directions. I see some tire tracks, so figuring it's my best shot at finding something else, I follow them. A few miles and it becomes a bad road. I take that a couple more miles and find a general store with a pay phone outside. I go inside and figure out where I am. Then I call the police to get some help.

  “At this point I'm feeling some relief. I hang up the phone knowing that they're on the way, turn back toward the store, and see a car coming at me. It's maybe fifteen feet away and coming fast. I make a move to get out of the way, but by now we know it's not my day. Last thing I remember is going up on the hood. I wake up here,” he said and looked down at himself, “in my present condition.” He shook his head. “Any questions?”

  Brian nodded. “Just one. Am I going to get a big bill for this?”

  “Damned straight. I told you my per diem was plus expenses, right?” Bob waved his arm to the surrounding room, and they all broke into laughter.

  Chapter 25

  The night of his visit to see Bob in the hospital, Brian slept better. He had taken to staying awake long into the night and then falling asleep whenever he could on the couch. He awoke at seven and made his way to the kitchen. He started the coffee and then sat down in the dining room to wait. The loud ring of the telephone broke the morning silence. Brian picked it up on the second ring and mumbled a greeting.