Swann Songs (The Boston Uncommon Mysteries Book 4) (7 page)

“The media will probably be out in force,” I said. “You know how they love scandal. Want me to run them off?”

That prospect raised Sonia’s antennae. “No, no. I`ll handle the press.” She stripped the glee from her voice and managed a sigh. “It`s my duty to the cause. Duff would want that.”

“Of course.”

We arranged a time and place for our session before ringing off.

Sonia had wasted no time in cozying up to her boss. Now she was calling him “Fess” rather than Dr. Paskert. Apparently Duff’s murder had brought unintended benefits to at least one of her associates. If Lieutenant Keegan was on his game, he would probably pop up at the funeral to scrutinize the mourners. That would be my chance to quiz him about the investigation and Duff’s cause of death. After all, how many normal citizens have access to a tightly controlled substance like cyanide?

I wondered if Gabriel Mann would be among the mourners. He was in a difficult spot, bound to look insensitive or hypocritical no matter what he did. I visualized the wall of hostility he was sure to encounter. Charity is an overrated virtue. The thought of my arrogant ex fumbling through a funeral delighted me. If only Duff Ryder could be there to share the fun.

DEMING HAS A sixth sense when it comes to my schemes. He arrived home unannounced shortly before noon on the pretense of taking me to lunch.

“You must have read my mind,” he said. “Look at you. All dressed and ready to go.”

Handsome men in business suits turn me on, especially those with the Byronic looks of Deming Swann. I forced myself to power down, shrug, and ignore his flawless form.

“As it happens, I`m on my way out. Got an appointment this afternoon.”

He knew something was up, but like the cagey lawyer that he is, Deming played it cool.

“Should I be jealous?” he asked, kissing my cheek. “Not meeting another man, I trust.”

“I plead the fifth. Next time call first, and don`t take me for granted.” I pointed to Cato. “Here`s an idea. Take him on a jog around the Common. Much better than eating.”

Deming changed tactics and went for the kill. He loomed over me, arms folded, in his version of a tough guy act. As a youth he had immersed himself in Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler, and the noir experience had permanently scarred him.

“Come clean,” he growled. “You`re going to see Sonia.”

“So?”

He trained stern hazel eyes on me. “I cleared my calendar. I`ll go with you. Come on, I want to be part of this.”

When he decides to do something, Deming gives stubborn mules a bad name. I made a deft turnabout.

“Sonia and I are discussing a book. Dull stuff. But your mother could use a lawyer`s help with this scholarship deal. No one would think twice about it either.”

He brightened immediately. “Good idea. I`ll give Mom a call.” He loped toward his office and stopped short. “Don`t leave without me, Eja. I`ll drop you off at the University. That way we can talk strategy on the drive.”

Instead of pouting, I counted my blessings. Deming was controlling and wildly overprotective at times, but he cared about me. A loving husband was a far cry from the indifference and deceit of life with Gabriel Mann. All things considered, I was one lucky woman.

Chapter Eight

SONIA REYES WORE widow`s weeds or her version of them. Black was particularly flattering to her and played well to her role as grieving employer. Pallor also suits some women, enhancing their vulnerability and emitting pheromones to every available male. Sonia had wisely chosen pale, flesh-hued lipstick and a subtle touch of mascara. In contrast, my flame-colored dress and vibrant makeup seemed garish and over the top.

Her office was modest, not an unusual arrangement in the rigid university caste system. The untenured were one small step above adjuncts, those academic itinerants who served at the pleasure of their masters.

“I`m afraid there`s not much space,” Sonia said, waving me into the only chair. “My back kills me after a day in that old chair.” She pointed to a pink satin pillow festooned with rosettes. “I keep that pillow here to save my back.”

“No problem,” I said. “It`s cozy.”

“That`s one name for it,” she sniffed. “Things will improve when I get tenure.”

Her voice had the smug ring of certainty.

“Oh? Are congratulations in order? I hadn`t heard.”

A slight flush stained Sonia’s cheeks. “I misspoke. Nothing`s definite yet. I . . . please don`t mention it to anyone. It could start a war around here, and things are difficult enough for a woman.”

“Of course not. I understand.”

I ignored her plea for gender solidarity. Sonia Reyes would likely lead the charge in any war against women if it suited her purpose. I`d seen so-called activists like Sonia often enough in my professional dealings. They were piranhas, omnivores who cruised the seas seeking suitable prey of either gender.

“About the book, Sonia. I`d need access to all your information—files, notes, and academic papers—the works. If you have anything of Duff’s, I`ll take that too.”

Sonia pointed to a cubbyhole outside her office. “That was Duff’s space. Nothing much as you can see. That policeman went through it yesterday.” She shuddered. “That Keegan. He gives me the creeps. And the questions he asked! Like the whole thing was
my
fault.”

“I assume you obtained counsel.”

Sonia dismissed me with a flick of her hand as if the question irritated her. “Yes, yes. Of course. Edwina Jewell is representing me. You`ve probably heard of her.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I leave the legal stuff to my husband and father-in-law. Two lawyers are more than enough in any family.”

Sonia snapped to attention as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. “No wonder you`re so complacent,” she said, “with Bolin and Deming Swann at your side. No matter. I`m more than satisfied with my choice. Edwina Jewell is the city`s foremost feminist lawyer. Her firm, Jewell & Jacobs, takes only female clients.”

Instead of commenting, I nodded. Personally, I would be more interested in the competence of my attorney than her politics, but Sonia was a complex woman with her own agenda. Keegan had every reason to be wary.

“Were you surprised by the cause of death?” I asked. “The murderer was very serious about eliminating you. Cyanide is lethal enough, but it`s almost baroque. So Agatha Christie.”

Sonia shuddered once more. “When I think of that throat spray . . . Keegan took it of course. Had the entire thing analyzed.” She walked over to me and clutched my shoulder. “Who could hate me that much, Eja? I`ve never hurt anyone in my life. I`ve only tried to help.”

Talk about your specious claims! From what I`d observed, Sonia was the type of woman who would claw her way to the top of the career ladder rung by rung. Her path was probably littered with the corpses of former adversaries and friends of both genders. When it came to self-interest Sonia Reyes looked out for number one. That led me to the next topic.

“What about Gabriel? He said you had once been very close.”

She kicked off her heels and sighed. I noted by their red soles that they were Christian Louboutin shoes—a very pricey purchase for an untenured teacher. Anika had a closet full of the things, but I found them uncomfortable and somewhat absurd. Despite my new marital situation, that sky-high price tag also made me wince. Shades of my socialist parents.

Sonia threw a fierce scowl my way. “Can I rely upon your discretion? This is embarrassing.”

I took a vow of silence. It was sure to annoy Sonia and provoke a reaction.

“Sorry, Eja. I`m not proud of this.” She padded over to my chair and plopped on an ottoman. “I talk a good game, but like every other woman, I get lonely. Gabriel was . . . sympathetic. At the time, he filled a deep void in my life. Surely you of all people know how enticing he can be.”

Forget a poker face. Mine reflects every emotion that I feel no matter how much I try to suppress it.

“You don`t approve,” Sonia said. “I understand.”

“I`m no prude, but I was a wife—Gabriel’s as it happens—who was cheated on. It scarred me for a long time.”

Sonia’s eyes hardened. “Deming Swann has quite a reputation as a ladies` man. That doesn`t bother you?”

“Nope. Water under the bridge.” I leaned forward. “Was it serious between you and Gabriel?”

She tossed her glossy black mane. “Only on his part. Gabriel couldn`t or wouldn`t understand that I wasn`t in love with him. The conceit of the man!”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Sonia had discarded the Gabriel Mann playbook. He was used to women prostrating themselves at his feet until he kicked them to the curb. Turnabout was particularly fair play where he was concerned.

“Melanie didn`t mind, I guess, or didn`t she know?”

Sonia’s smile showcased beautifully formed white teeth that were a dentist`s dream. Someone had invested heavily in those chompers. “We never discussed it,” she said, “but Melanie and I understand each other. Believe me, the issues that unite us are more important than those that divide us.”

I made a few notes on my iPad and resumed firing. “Melanie had access to your throat spray. How many times was she in your suite for meetings?”

“I don`t know. A couple of meetings, two or three.” For the first time, Sonia looked uneasy.

“You probably mentioned the problems with your voice,” I said. “It`s only natural.”

“I might have.” She swallowed several times as if the discussion was particularly distasteful.

“Maybe Duff saw something she shouldn`t have,” I said. “For all we know she may have seen the murderer contaminating your spray.”

“Maybes don`t get us too far, Ms. Kane.” A new player edged into the room so silently that neither Sonia nor I had heard him.

Sorrel Yeagan shook my hand, but he planted a tender kiss on Sonia’s brow. “You look tired, darling. Relax. Let the police do their job.” He gave me the thousand-yard stare. “This may not be the right time for Ms. Kane to get involved.”

There was only one way to handle the situation. I gambled on Sonia’s almost pathological need for attention and her complicated relationship with Sorrel.

“Of course. Perhaps we can connect some other time.” I gathered my things and stood.

“Wait!” Sonia shook off his hand and reached out to me. “Don`t leave, Eja. Please.” She used the full power of her lovely eyes. “Think of Duff, not me. Your book will be her tribute.”

At that moment, her phone rang.

Sorrel’s eyes drank in every angle of Sonia’s face as she listened to the message. His galloping case of unrequited love was painful to observe.

“Fess wants to see us,” she said. “Something about your mother-in-law and a grant in Duff’s name.”

“Now?” I asked.

Anika certainly worked fast. More likely it was the power of Swann money and a nudge from one very pushy lawyer.

Sonia pulled out a large mirror, groomed herself, and grabbed her bag without a word to her agent. Once again, Sorrel Yeagan was odd man out, not even an afterthought.

“Come on, Eja,” Sonia said. “They`re waiting in his office.”

She strode out the door before I caught my breath.

ANIKA WORE HER most conservative Chanel suit. I would have looked like a tank in it, but on her the structured jacket and tailored skirt had a sexy schoolmarm vibe. The gleam in Fess Paskert’s eyes confirmed that assessment.

My eyes were riveted to the opposite corner where Deming perched. He wore horn-rimmed glasses, a body-hugging Brioni suit, and starched white shirt with French cuffs. Upon seeing him, Sonia immediately swiveled her hips and thrust out her chest. Since Anika had explained it, the act didn`t bother me one bit. It was more automatic reflex than a prelude to seduction.

“Dr. Reyes, Mrs. Swann. Please sit down. So glad we caught you both in one spot.” Paskert blubbered as if his every dream had come true. “This is truly fortuitous.”

He prattled on about something else and patted Anika’s arm. She deflected his hand and winked at me.

“Sonia, the Swann Foundation wants to honor Duff’s memory with an endowment. How incredibly generous!” Paskert almost drooled at the prospect.

Sonia turned toward Deming. “That`s astounding. How can I help?”

“We`re evaluating the situation,” Deming said in a pompous, lawyerly way. “Naturally, the University would have to submit a grant proposal.”

Fess Paskert jumped in. “That`s where you come in, Sonia. After all, you knew her

best. Just think how proud this would make Duff.”

“I want to honor social activism,” Anika said, “especially women`s issues. My late daughter was also a proponent of that.”

Deming played devil`s advocate, a game he excels at. His expertise was such that it was often difficult to distinguish between a ruse and his true feelings.

“I think it`s premature,” he said. “After all, her murderer is still on the loose. Who knows where that will lead?”

Paskert’s face lost all color. “Surely you don`t suspect anyone at the university, Mr. Swann?”

Deming gave that annoying Gallic shrug. “I can`t say, but caution is indicated.”

“What are your ideas, Dr. Paskert? You must know everyone involved.” Anika gave him her ice-melting smile.

After a series of gulps and stutters, he turned to Sonia. “Unfortunately, Dr. Reyes was the target.” He nodded. “Lots of haters out there, you know. Just follow the Internet threads and Twitter. Disgusting.”

Deming slid a paper toward him. “This is the figure we were considering. Very preliminary, of course.”

Paskert’s eyes bugged out as he evaluated his options. “Oh, my. This would make a fine tribute to Ms. Ryder. So many worthy scholarship candidates . . .”

“I have an idea that might help,” Sonia said. “Perhaps if you interviewed some of Duff’s associates you could get a fuller picture of her. Eja and I were just discussing that very thing.”

Deming showed absolutely no reaction. His face was a blank slab of gorgeous granite. I normally loathed that skill, but today it proved invaluable.

“I suppose that might be useful,” he said. “You could guide us.”

“Yes, yes,” Paskert murmured. “Anything that you need. Perhaps you`ll attend the memorial service tomorrow. Duff’s impact on the community was incalculable.”

By the time the meeting concluded, order had been restored and the deal was sealed. Anika and I agreed to attend Duff’s memorial while Sonia promised to list all of Duff’s associates.

Before heading home I spent another hour with Sonia rehashing the day`s events. Normally, I would have tackled the Red Line to Park Street however today it was unnecessary. When I exited the Arts and Science building, I spied Deming astride a stone bench, hunched over his iPad. He glanced up and gave me a blinding smile that quickened my pulse.

“Your chauffeur awaits, madame. No grubby subways for you, especially after that feat of self-restraint.”

“What are you talking about?”

Deming packed up his briefcase and adjusted my muffler. “You spent two hours in that meeting without saying one word. That qualifies as a miracle for the Eja Kane I know and love. Either you were struck dumbm which I know was not the case, or you were hatching some kind of plan. I decided to deliver you home safe and sound before you got into any mischief.”

“What happened to Anika?” I asked.

“What else? Po fetched her. She and Dad have some kind of plans for tonight. But you and I, my love, are free to roam.” He raised his brows in a misplaced leer. “Come on. The Porsche is parked in a tow zone, and I`ll be very unhappy if it`s gone.”

I gave him my best Sonia imitation. “I`m putty in your hands, Romeo. You know how I love men with big, big brains. Those horn-rimmed glasses turn me on.”

“Good to know,” he said. “I`ll remember to keep them close.”

As he navigated the mean streets of Cambridge, Deming hummed along to a steady stream of cool jazz, his planning music of choice. He ignored my questions, so I peered into the GPS. Our destination was unfamiliar as was the street.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “What is this—the Magical Mystery Tour?”

He checked his watch. “If we hurry we`ll make it just in time.” He wrenched the Porsche into a hard right turn and parked beside a low-rise building on Broadway Street. I`d never been inside, but the Cambridge Insight Meditation Center was a haunt of many writer friends. CIMC, as its patrons called it, drew a well-intentioned, educated crowd with a theoretical commitment to the common good. Like all human endeavors, it had some backsliders and naysayers but overall, ethical behavior was promoted, and the Buddhist practice of Sila prevailed.