A Wrongful Death (22 page)

From his expression Barbara guessed that Knowlton would never accept that, but he made no comment.

"Why were there no witnesses?" Frank asked. "Coworkers or someone who knew what you were doing?"

Dr. Knowlton took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, replaced them. "He was a loner all his life, Hank, I mean. He'd get his ideas alone and work out the preliminaries, then turn it over to R&D to follow through with. Nearly twenty years ago, he came across the work my team was doing with robots at Caltech, and he gave me a call. We met and he asked me to work with him. I was added to the research-and-development team in Portland, where Joe Kurtz was vice president, a joke, a title but no real input. I hardly ever worked there. Hank had a separate workplace on his property and that's where we did our joint work. Or sometimes at the cabin. I rarely went to the laboratory in town. Some of our work was doable fifteen years ago, some has been done and patented, is being used today and some was what the attorneys called visionary, Hollywood movie material. Visionary then, practical today. Microprocessors, nanotechnology were in their infancy, now they're a reality. I followed that field, and we both saw the role they could and would play in prosthetics."

He leaned forward as he talked, and seemed prepared to go into detail about the work they had done. Barbara glanced at Frank uneasily, and he interrupted Knowlton.

"All right, you two worked out of sight. At the house? Why didn't household help come forward to say so?"

"Not at the main house," Knowlton said. "There are three houses on the property — the main house, a guesthouse by a little lake and another fully furnished guesthouse close to the south entrance. Hank had bought that one when it came on the market, and he used it for a retreat. He had a workroom, his ham radio setup, television, everything he needed in the guesthouse, and that's where we worked. I was hardly ever in the main house."

"Hank is Henry Diedricks?" Frank asked. Knowlton nodded. "Why didn't he testify on your behalf? At least make a statement of support?"

Dr. Knowlton's face became twisted, with resentment, bitterness, grief, a combination of all of them? It was hard to read that expression. His tone was bleak when he answered. "Thirteen years ago Hank crashed in his airplane. He nearly died. Head injury, broken bones, a shattered shoulder, punctured lung, other injuries. He was in intensive care, surgeries, back in intensive care. No visitors allowed for over a year. The guesthouse was locked up and I couldn't get in. I tried repeatedly to see him after he was sent home, but they always said he was too sick for company and wouldn't let me. I worked on some things we had nearly ready to turn over to the team during that period, but I wanted to get to my own work, and I finally consulted the attorneys about it. The family gave them a statement from Hank, signed by his doctor, that said his head injury had resulted in a loss of memory along with his vision, that he regretted that he had to refuse my request to talk to him, that there was nothing he could say to me. He rejected me, Mr. Holloway. Kicked me out. There wasn't a thing I could do about it. My attorneys got a court order to look over the work space in the guesthouse, but it was gone. Sarah and Joe Kurtz were living there, and swore they had lived in it for many years. An estate manager, a man named Lon Clampton, backed them up. There were no papers, no documents, nothing to show I'd ever set foot in the guesthouse."

When Frank asked him on what basis his former attorneys had accepted the case in the first place and had taken it as far as they had, he answered readily. "Because I was able to describe in exact detail the latest patent the company had taken out, my work, with Joe Kurtz's name on it. He couldn't have identified it in a pile of scrap tin. Their lawyers claimed I had looked up the patent and memorized the details, that anyone with my training could have done that and it was discounted."

Barbara was keeping an eye on her watch, and she tapped it a short time later. Frank nodded. "Dr. Knowlton, we have to wrap this up rather soon, I'm afraid. What we propose to do is contact your former attorneys, with your permission, and present them with the evidence they needed years ago in order for them to represent you again in a new lawsuit. They are best prepared to do this because they have done the preliminaries. You have to believe me, they did all they could with what they had before. I know some of the attorneys in that group and they're good men. They gave you good advice when they said not to try for an appeal, because they knew you would lose. Now they can press what I believe will prove to be an irrefutable case."

"They lost," Knowlton said bitterly. "And they gave up. How do you know who they are? I didn't tell you." His suspicions had surfaced again, narrowing his eyes, making his mouth look pinched.

"I read the court decision — their names are on the papers," Frank said.

Brice put his hand on his father's arm the way he had done before, and he said to Frank, "Can you give us a day or two to talk this over? It's pretty unexpected, I think Dad needs a little time."

Frank nodded and addressed his remarks to Brice. "There's another matter we have to discuss. Someone is desperately trying to locate that material, and they will do whatever it takes to prevent its surfacing again. You have to understand that Dr. Knowlton may be in extreme danger if it becomes known that he saw us and has an inkling of what we're proposing to do. We know there are people watching his house, and probably listening in on his phone calls. You saw the precautions Barbara took in getting that material here tonight. I urge you both not to discuss this meeting with anyone at all, and to take every precaution in your phone conversations. There isn't a thing you can do at this point except wait for attorneys to take over the case and proceed with it. We may have to have an additional meeting in the future under strict secrecy, and as soon as new attorneys accept the case, arrangements will have to be made for meetings with that group."

Brice picked up Frank's card. "Can't you, your firm, represent Dad in this?"

"No. My firm doesn't handle criminal cases, and this one is most certainly a criminal affair. Barbara doesn't have the staff to manage this kind of case. You need a large firm willing to commit as much time as it takes to seeing this through to a conclusion. I want to stress to both of you, until this case proceeds to a legal status, there will be great danger if the other side learns the research material is now available for a court to examine."

"One more question," Brice said. "With that research material in hand why can't we simply call a press conference, announce the fraud and go on from there? Publicity can be a damn nuisance, but it can also be a shield."

Frank explained that they had to be able to produce the person responsible for finding the papers, who would testify as to where they had been located. "We can't do that at this time."

"Elizabeth Kurtz," Brice said in a low voice. He turned a searching look to Barbara. She remained silent.

Frank ignored his guess, also, and said, "The Diedricks Corporation's attorneys can claim that Dr. Knowlton has been working on those sketches and notes for years and is taking advantage of Joe Kurtz's death to make his claim again. We couldn't refute that at present."

"That's precisely what they would claim," Dr. Knowlton said angrily. "And they'd laugh at me for being an idiot with an idiotic story."

Applause sounded on the speakers. Barbara stood and reached for the papers to return to her pouch. "Time's up. Use your cell phone to call mine when you reach a decision," she said to Br ice. "Make sure you're in a private place where we can talk. We'll go on from there." He wrote her cell phone number in a notebook, and she put the pouch back in place with the cape over it. One by one they left the meeting room to mingle with the crowd gathering in the lobby for an intermission.

Chapter 21

"At ten after nine the florist delivered the flowers," Bailey said the next morning. "Shelley got in the back with Alan, and they went to the rendezvous point, switched cars and now Alan's driving her down to the cabin. Not a hitch, and no followers. An easy twenty bucks for the delivery man."

Barbara drew in a breath. They wouldn't get back before four, possibly a little after. It might prove to be a long day. Frank was ready to go to his office in Bailey's SUV, to replace the research papers in his safe. "I'll walk home," he said. "I have things to do here today." She felt almost jealous since she had nothing to do except wait for Shelley to get back.

He paused walking to the door when Barbara's cell phone rang. She switched it on and heard Elizabeth's voice.

"Have you seen the /Oregonian/ newspaper?" Elizabeth asked. She sounded angry.

"No. What is it?"

"An article under the heading Jason's Two Mommies. And it's exactly what the title suggests. There's a picture of me, curls and all. The reporter knows where I'm staying. There was a photographer outside here yesterday. I didn't see him, but that's a picture from yesterday, what I was wearing yesterday."

"Hold it, I'm coming over there," Barbara said. She disconnected, then repeated what Elizabeth had said. "There's no point in trying to hide her any longer. I'm going over to calm her down, and I'm driving. As far as anyone else is concerned she has nothing to do with the research, but it seems the general smear is in full swing." She pulled on her jacket. "And what's more natural than to call your lawyer's associate in a situation like this? See you later." Without waiting for any argument, she left, and was mildly surprised to see the clamshell still in the back of her car. She had forgotten all about it.

Elizabeth's flare-up of fury had subsided to a dull seething anger by the time Barbara arrived. "It's filthy!" she said. "Disgusting, what he's saying in that piece, and not a word of it's true! Jason called us both Mama from the time he could talk, then it was Mama One or Mama Two, whoever was there first, but not like that makes it sound. It was a joke for him. He called my mother Grandma One, and her cousin Grandma Two. A joke."

"Take it easy," Barbara said. "Where's the article?" She threw her jacket down on the sofa and went to the table in the dining space where Elizabeth had pointed and scanned the article quickly. It was every bit as bad as Elizabeth had said. Two lesbians fighting over a child they both wanted. Elizabeth's divorce shortly after she delivered, the two women sharing an apartment from then on. Leonora was made out to be a merciless money-grubbing bitch.

"Okay, so you know how the game's going to be played," Barbara said, tossing the paper down. "Your mother's sending me the divorce papers, so we'll have some ammunition to fire back, but not just yet. How are you, otherwise?"

"Caged. I was going to get a computer, but I realized how limited it would be. I can't use my own passwords for anything, and I don't know Leonora's. Start from scratch? Have a third identity? I'll have to, but if the police demand the computer later on, how would they interpret that? Besides, I'm afraid to spend my cash. Without a credit card I can't even buy a book at Amazon. And I'm going to run out of money. Mother's transferring money to Leonora's account, but I can't touch it. I don't know her mother's maiden name, for security, and if they fax a signature card, I'll mess that up, too." She spread her hands in a gesture of defeat. "Caged on all sides. I want to talk to Jason, wish him a Merry Christmas, but I'm afraid to do it on this phone. I'll have to find a place that sells international phone cards or something. I was looking at public pay phones yesterday, and they don't have real booths any more, just open stalls where anyone close enough can hear every word." She bit her lip, then said, "Sorry. It just seemed that suddenly everything was coming down on me at once. Everywhere I turned there was a new wall."

Barbara laughed. "Whoa! Let's take them one at a time. You're upset by that stupid article, but it's only the opening salvo. Ignore it for now. Got coffee?"

Sitting at the table with coffee, with the newspaper pushed aside, she asked, "Why can't you use Leonora's credit card?"

"Have you seen her signature? A scrawl that I can't come close to matching. I tried last night, and anyone could tell at a glance that it wasn't the same or even close."

"Would practice help?"

"Let me show you." She left and returned with the credit card and, as she had said, the signature was an impossible scrawl.

"I see what you mean," Barbara said. It would be nearly impossible to reproduce that scrawl easily, automatically, the way one signed for a credit card purchase.

"And I don't know what her limit is, or how close she was to the edge after buying her plane ticket here. I can't go on the Internet to find out since I don't have her password."

Barbara nodded. "Okay. Look, your mother gave me a check for ten thousand. It's in my safe at the office. I'll deposit it next week and today I'll take you to my bank and transfer that amount to you in order to open your own account, under Leonora's name, with the signature you provide. They'll give you temporary checks, and you won't have to wait for anything to clear. Forget the credit card. Then we'll go buy a laptop. Didn't Leonora have one with her?"

"She had a desktop computer at home. No laptop. Neither did I until I ran away."

"Well, you'll want something more portable from here on out. So that's wall number two down. Now about calling Jason. Is the time difference seven or eight hours?"

"Eight, I think. I have to call him by noon, before his bedtime."

"I think a call from you would be the perfect Christmas present for him," Barbara said. "Tomorrow, come to Dad's house early and make the call from there. A safe phone, quiet, and you can talk as long as you like. Plan to spend the rest of the day. You can help me set up Dad's present, and play with his cats, or just nap, then have dinner. Would that work for you?

Elizabeth's eyes were bright with tears, and she nodded. "Thanks," she said in a low voice. "That would work."

"Wall number three. Now down to business," Barbara said briskly. "Last night Dad and I met with Jefferson Knowlton." She described the meeting, and finished by saying, "I think Brice will talk him into agreeing to go back to the original firm. It's really the best way to proceed now. But while he was talking, he said some interesting things. He said they worked in a guesthouse. Do you know about that?"