A Wrongful Death (31 page)

She undid the clasp and turned back the opening.

Sarah looked inside, and pulled out the tape recorder. "What's this for?"

"I have a tape to play for you," Barbara said. She took the tape recorder and opened it to demonstrate that it contained no tape yet. She reached inside the briefcase and brought out the tape, inserted it. "Why don't you sit down and let's get on with it."

Sarah's mouth tightened, but she walked around the table and pulled out a chair where the windows would be behind her. The drapes had been drawn all the way open. Barbara did not comment. She had no need to watch Sarah's expression. She took a chair, and Terry sat down, choosing a chair well-separated from the others.

"Ms. Holloway, I did not appreciate your peremptory call for this meeting—" Sarah said.

"Mrs. Kurtz, please sit down. I want to get through this as quickly as possible, and there's no need for talk at this point. I have something you want, and you have something I want. Now let's get started." She turned on the tape player. Sarah Kurtz sat down, as stiff and upright as a person could be. The tape player made the usual whirring sounds, and then Elizabeth's voice could be heard clearly.

Terry gave a start, half rose from his chair, sank back down again, staring at the tape player as if hypnotized by it.

There was not a sound in the room except that of Elizabeth's voice for the next several minutes. No one moved.

"I decided what I had to do," Elizabeth said on the tape, "was to enlist the help of someone, and I thought of Barbara

Holloway. She had saved my life and the life of my son at the cabin, and I had looked her up on the Internet and felt I could trust her. I planned to go to Eugene, call Leonora to bring our passports and take her and Jason to go stay with my mother in Spain, and to entrust the papers, and the decision concerning what to do about them to Barbara Holloway."

Then Barbara's voice was on the tape. "What you have just heard was read from the written text provided by Elizabeth Kurtz in my presence, and that of others. The written text is signed and notarized."

Barbara turned off the tape recorder and removed the tape.

"Where is that relative who has Jason?" Terry said hoarsely. "Where is he?"

"As she said, he is safe and being cared for," Barbara said. "You all know what happened when Elizabeth reached Eugene. And you know that I flew to Las Vegas and recovered those papers from the storage locker. I put them in a prepared envelope and took them directly to the post office and mailed them. They are now in the hands of a law firm in Portland. There are about a hundred papers involved — drawings, pages of practice initials, notes, computer codes and schematics of various prosthetic devices, some signed by Jefferson Knowlton, some with his initials only, and some with Henry Diedricks's notes included, or more often notes with Hank Diedricks's name."

Lawrence Diedricks was leaning forward with his elbow on the table, his hand covering his face. In a harsh whisper Sarah Kurtz said, "You don't have anything! Anyone could have made such a statement, any cheap actress could have read it. Knowlton's had years of insane rage driving him. He could have made a million copies of anything he came across on the Internet, through the journals. It doesn't prove a thing!"

"Mrs. Kurtz, I can assure you that a court of law takes a notarized statement very seriously. That document will withstand any scrutiny anyone directs at it. And I possess the original."

"What do you want?" Sarah said in the same harsh voice. "What's your price?"

"I want the murderer. When Elizabeth went to that cabin, Sam Norris called this house to inform you that a woman and a child were there. I have no idea what conversation followed that call, of course. But two days later, on Thanksgiving, someone went to the cabin and attacked her with murderous ferocity and stole her computer, every scrap of paper and certain disks. She was left to die in the rain, and Jason was left to die in the wilderness. After the attacker realized the stolen papers were not the originals, I was followed, spied upon and my telephone was tapped. When Elizabeth called and gave me her address, her attacker immediately went to the apartment and committed murder. The persons tapping my line called the Kurtz house in Eugene that evening, and three of you were in that house. One of you left and committed murder. I want that killer. That's my price."

"Leonora Carnero killed her," Sarah said. "The police know that. Leonora Carnero did it."

"No, Mrs. Kurtz, she did not. And I don't intend to let her suffer for that murder. We deal, or I will hold a press conference and play that tape. We deal now, today. On Tuesday I will be required to submit to a deposition, testify under oath. What we decide here and now will determine exactly what I say at that time."

She looked at Terry. He was so pale he looked bloodless. "Who left the house on Thanksgiving? Did you?"

Without uncovering his face, Lawrence Diedricks said in an anguished voice, "We played cards for awhile. Terry, my kids, I... Lon found cards for us, and set up the card table."

"I was in bed with a migraine," Sarah cried. "Don't you remember? I was ill from Wednesday until you called, Lawrence. Don't you remember? You called to say dinner was ready on Thursday. I told you I was lying down. I had a severe migraine."

"Who left the Kurtz house the evening of the murder?" Barbara demanded. "I want a name and some proof."

Sarah Kurtz drew herself up even more stiffly, her face hidden in shadows, her voice almost guttural in its harshness. "Do you think you can come into my home and threaten us with impunity? Do you believe we'll let you get away with this outrage? How much is your own life worth to you?"

"You're wasting time," Barbara said, unperturbed. "You've looked me up, had me investigated. You know I'm not stupid. You know I have insurance, with explicit orders for others to follow if I happen to have an accident."

"What's your real price?" Sarah cried. "How much? A hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand? Name your price! One percent of the company? Do you realize one percent of a billion dollars is ten million? What's your real price?"

"I told you what I want, the name of a killer and sufficient proof to insure an arrest and trial for murder. And I don't intend to dicker about it." She pushed her chair back slightly, preparing to stand.

"Lon," Sarah whispered. "He hired them. I told him to hire detectives to find my grandson. They called him and he came to where I was sorting through pictures and said he had to go out for a few minutes, he'd be right back."

Terry jumped up, staring at his mother in horror, his face ashen.

"Why didn't you say something to the police?" Lawrence cried. "You let them think that woman did it when you knew. Why didn't you say something?"

"Because it doesn't matter! One piece of trash getting rid of another piece of trash — let her rot in prison, what difference will it make? Do you know where we stand with the sale? Eight hundred fifty million! And it will go up. We can't let our names be dragged through the mud!"

"She would have died in the rain, and Jason alone, miles from anyone, the tide coming in..." Terry's voice was tremulous, and he was shaking. "What kind of monster are you?" he whispered. He turned and, staggering, walked out.

Sarah leaned forward and cried, "What more do you want? I gave him to you. I demand the original of that statement. I taped this whole meeting, I have your word."

"I said proof," Barbara said coldly. "You gave me a name. That's not enough. I need proof."

"I'll make a statement, sign it, whatever they need."

"And no doubt he'll do the same."

Barbara put the tape recorder back in the briefcase, the tape in her purse. "Are we finished here?"

"I saw him throw something in the lake," Sarah whispered. "He didn't know I was watching. When we came home for Christmas, he threw it away. I'll tell them where he threw it, where he stood. I watched."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. I'll call the police and tell them I saw him. I was afraid. He threatened me, and I was afraid, but I'll tell them. Tomorrow. Not now. I feel ill. Tomorrow."

"Call me afterward and I'll come back," Barbara said, rising from her chair. She glanced at Lawrence, who had put his arms on the table, his face pressed into them. She thought he might be weeping. "Good day, Mrs. Kurtz," she said. "I can let myself out." She closed her briefcase.

Sarah Kurtz and her brother Lawrence were both still sitting there when she walked from the room.

Chapter 29

When she opened the door of the van, she barely glanced in the rear seat where Frank and Hoggarth were huddled in wool blankets. They both held tape recorders. Bailey got behind the wheel, and turned on the engine. "It warms up fast," he said.

Without looking behind her, Barbara asked, "Did it come through okay?"

"Loud and clear," Frank said, and no one spoke again as Bailey drove out to the road, the same place he had stopped on the way in to let Frank and Hoggarth out. They had walked the rest of the way concealed by the trees and shrubs, then waited until the van had been checked out, as they all had suspected it would be. The road Bailey entered fed into the access road to I-5. He turned off that one a short distance later onto a county road and slowed down. A man standing by the side of the road waved, and he stopped to let Hoggarth leave to join his men.

"You have some explaining to do," the lieutenant said heavily to Barbara, opening the sliding door.

"Tuesday," she said. "As agreed."

"Maybe you can stop by tonight, when you get through here," Frank said.

"Yeah," Hoggarth said. "Yeah, I'll stop by." It sounded more like a threat than a promise. He got out of the van and Frank moved to the middle seat behind Barbara.

Sarah Kurtz passed Lon Clampton in the hall on her way out. He was carrying the chairs back to the kitchen. "They're gone," he said.

She did not reply. Outside, she got into the golf cart and took it down the drive to the guesthouse, where she went straight upstairs, then up a second flight of narrow stairs to the attic. The light was dim, and she knew there was no electricity, but the small dormer windows were enough. Passing one facing south and the county road out front, she paused, then caught in her breath as a van stopped, a man got out, and the vehicle turned and went back the way it had come. The man had vanished among the shrubs and trees below her line of vision. "A trap!" she whispered harshly. "That bitch was setting a trap!" She glanced at the floorboard she had come to remove, then backed away from the window and retraced her steps downstairs, where she stood in the kitchen, shaking, her lips a tight grim line. After a moment she sank down to a chair and willed herself to calm down, to think.

When Bailey shifted and started to drive again, Frank put his hand on Barbara's shoulder. "That was good work," he said quietly.

She patted his hand but made no response. Filthy work, she thought, and immediately another voice in her head replied, it would be filthier if Sarah got away with it. There was no answer to her counter argument. It would be filthier if she got away with it.

Bailey didn't linger when he took Frank and Barbara home. "I'll get another copy of that tape," he said. Frank handed him a small black box and he put it in his duffel bag. Barbara removed her tape player and tape, and left the briefcase on the passenger seat. Bailey saluted and drove off as Frank and Barbara entered the house.

"Step two," she said in the kitchen a minute later, pouring wine. "One to go. I'll call Shelley and tell them the coast is clear. But maybe I should wait. If I don't call before nine, they plan to put Elizabeth up overnight. What do you think?"

"Let's wait and see what Milt has to say."

She nodded. "Sarah might still squirm out of it, one way or another. We'll wait."

At nine that night, Barbara gave up pacing and going up and down the stairs long enough to sit in the living room and frown ferociously at Frank. "He isn't coming, that bastard. It must have fizzled on the vine, and he's empty-handed and sore as a boil."

"Maybe," Frank said. "He probably stopped long enough to eat. Let's give him time."

"Right." She got up and headed for the stairs again.

Frank picked up the book he had been trying to read without much success. Half an hour later the doorbell rang and he got up to admit Hoggarth.

"Come in, Milt. Come sit by the fire. Nasty night out there.'

"Cold, wet and fog, what more needs saying

He took off his heavy jacket and Frank hung it in the closet, and motioned toward the living room. A tray on the low table held a bottle of scotch, an ice bucket, pinot noir and the coffee carafe. "Are you off duty yet?" Frank asked.

"Yeah. As of right now."

"Well, help yourself. Fix it the way you like it," Frank said, motioning toward the scotch.

Barbara entered a moment later and was surprised to see the lieutenant sipping what looked like straight scotch with a single ice cube. She never had seen him drink anything but coffee.

His nod to her was curt and perfunctory. Then he ignored her and spoke to Frank. "One of my men stopped her just short of the lake, she had a paper bag. He asked what was in it, and she handed it to him. Half a loaf of bread. She was on her way to feed the ducks." He drank again.

Barbara poured herself a glass of wine and sat down without a word.

"She made me go in with her so she could get my full name, rank, supervisor's name. Wanted to know what we were doing on her property." He poured another drink.

"She said," he went on in an almost toneless voice, "she intended to report me, bring charges. That I was acting in collusion with an extortionist, in a plot to force her to pay millions for the return of her late husband's stolen research papers. She said she told you whatever you seemed to want to hear just to get rid of you, stall long enough to contact her attorneys for advice. She accused you of concealing evidence of an abduction, possession of stolen property, attempted extortion, conspiracy to commit extortion."

"The best defense, attack first," Barbara said scornfully. "She has that gun! She smelled a trap. Get a search warrant before she has a chance to get rid of it!"