Prayers for the Dead (30 page)

Sparks’s home sat by itself at the mouth of a cul-de-sac. Parked in the driveway was Waterson’s Lincoln.

“Bert one, Tom zero.” Webster did a three-pointer and turned around. “Now what?”

Martinez picked up the cell phone and called Decker.

“That was fast,” Decker said. “Where are you?”

“In front of Sparks’s house. Waterson’s Lincoln is parked in the driveway. You want us to pay a visit?”

“No. Right now, I want you to go over to impound and start taking the Sparkses’ Buick apart. Good job, guys.”

“What about Waterson?”

“I’m scheduled to see the widow today at three. So I’ll drop by a little early.”

Martinez glanced at the ’Cuda’s clock. “A
little
early? It’s straight-up noon, Loo.”

“My oh my,” Decker said. “My watch is running fast.”

Michael answered the door, seemed surprised by Decker’s appearance. The young man wore a crewneck sweater over a vanilla shirt, khaki pants, and loafers. He fiddled with his collar, looked over his shoulder as if waiting for someone to come to his rescue. “I thought you were coming later.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience. May I come in?”

The med student was hesitant. “My mother is kind of indisposed right now.”

Decker stood firm. “I’m really sorry for coming at an awful time.”

Michael ran his hand through a thick nest of black curls. Uncertainty seemed to be his hallmark. “Could you hold on a second?”

“Of course.”

The door closed, reopened a minute later. Mike had brought reinforcements in the form of older brother Paul, both of them staring at Decker with the same deep blue eyes. Strong fraternal resemblance. But the med student was slimmer, younger, and
sans
tic.

Paul said, “Mom’s resting. If it’s important, I’ll fetch her.”

“The sooner I talk to her, the better.”

Paul’s eyes moved at shutter speed. “So it’s important?”

“You have a breakthrough?” Michael asked excitedly.

“Not yet, I’m afraid. May I come in?”

The door opened completely, and Decker walked inside. Sitting on the family-room couch was the man with the veiny nose. He stood when he saw Decker, regarded Paul with questioning eyes.

“This is Lieutenant Decker, principal investigator of my father’s case,” Paul said. “Lieutenant, William Waterson, my father’s lawyer.”

Decker shook the attorney’s hand — firm grip, but not bone-crushing. The lawyer was about four inches shorter than Decker, around six even. His face held a drinker’s complexion, but his eyes were strong and lucid.

Waterson said, “Any news, Lieutenant?”

“Nothing worth reporting.” Decker remained standing and so did Waterson. “Are you also in charge of administering Dr. Sparks’s estate, sir?”

Waterson’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am.”

Decker said, “Then you’ll be disclosing the will’s contents. See, there must be a will. Because Sparks had a family trust. When you have a trust, you have a will.”

Waterson eyed the two brothers. Michael shrugged ignorance, Paul revealed nothing. The lawyer said, “May I ask where you obtained such confidential information?”

“Just did a little poking around. No big deal.”

Paul broke in, eyes fluttering. “Yes, Dad and Mom have a family trust and Dad had a will. Hopefully, we’ll be reading it soon. The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned. Easier for my mom. This way she’ll have access to her funds.”

And you’ll have access to a million bucks. As soon as insurance pays up. Which may take a
long
time
. Decker kept his thoughts to himself. To Waterson, he said, “Nice of you to make house calls. Just out in the area or is this truly personalized service?”

“Azor Sparks was a dear friend. I feel I owe it to him to keep an eye on Dolly.”

“She has children. Why does she need watching from you?”

Michael nodded enthusiastically. Waterson glared at him, then at Decker. He said, “After losing my beloved wife four years ago, I can assure you it’s a
trying
time for her. Anything I can do to help ease her pain.”

“That’s very decent of you, sir.”

“That’s why we were put on this earth, Lieutenant,” Waterson stated. “To love God and be decent with each other.”

Decker nodded solemnly. He lied, “I called your office about an hour ago. You weren’t in.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Can I ask where you were?”

“Why are you curious about me?”

“Please bear with me, sir.”

“I was consulting with a client,” Waterson said stiffly. “And no, I won’t tell you who. That’s privileged information.”

“So you do make house calls.”

“I don’t see where this should be any of your concern. Do I detect a note of antagonism from you?”

Decker looked him in the eye. “Don’t mean to be confrontational. I was just taken aback by good, old-fashioned service, Mr. Waterson.”
Charging portal-to-portal at two hundred an hour
. “Commendable in this day and age.”

Waterson didn’t know how to read the compliment. He played it straight. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You’re in solo practice, Mr. Waterson?”

“I have partners.”

“But it’s your firm.”

“Yes.”

“Estate law?”

“Primarily, but we do everything.”

“Do you know Jack Cohen?”

Waterson’s jaw tightened. “Yes, I do. Good attorney. Where do you know him from?”

“Used to work for him way back when.”

The lawyer was puzzled. “Doing what?”

“Estates and wills.”

Waterson absorbed Decker’s words. “You’re an attorney?”

“Was many moons ago. I’m hopelessly out of practice, but I can still recall a thing or two. Things like trusts avoid probate. That’s most fortunate for Mrs. Sparks. She doesn’t need financial constrictions on top of all her other woes.”

“You’re absolutely right. I assure you Dolly is being well cared for.”

“Certainly appears that way.”

“It
is
that way.” Waterson stuck out his hand. “I must be going. Nice to have met you.”

Decker took the lawyer’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Waterson. I might have other questions. Do you have a card on you?”

“Of course.” The lawyer handed him a standard 2 × 3 rectangle, then shook hands with both sons. “Take care of your mother. I’ll call upon her later.”

“Thanks for coming down,” Paul said.

“For your family, I’d do anything, Paul.”

“I appreciate it.”

After Waterson left, Michael frowned. “Guy’s a jerk. Love thy neighbor at two hundred and fifty an hour—”

“Mike—”

“Out of all the lawyers, why did Dad pick him?” To Decker, Michael said, “Dad had an affinity for oddballs—”

“Mike—”

“It’s true, Paul. Not only Waterson. Just look at his staff — Decameron, Berger—”

Decker said, “What’s wrong with Dr. Decameron?”

Paul snapped, “Nothing is wrong with Dr. Decameron.”

“Aside from the fact he’s gay?” Decker asked casually.

“I’m not falling into that bullshit trap,” Paul said. “You have your beliefs,
I
have mine. No, I don’t approve of his lifestyle. But if Dr. Decameron is good enough for Dad, I’m sure he’s an excellent doctor.”

“What about Dr. Berger?” Decker asked.

Michael said, “He’s mealy-mouthed and a wimp.”

“And Jewish?” Decker said.

Paul stared at him. “Half the doctors in America are Jewish. What are you trying to do? Paint us as a bunch of prejudiced asses just because we believe in God? Jesus loves all His creatures, sir. You, me, everyone. And that, sir, is
my
belief.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Paul,” Decker said. “I’m sorry.”

The room fell silent.

Paul closed his fluttering eyelids. “I’m testy.”

“You’re holding up very well.” To Michael, Decker asked, “Why do you think Berger is a wimp?”

“Because you can’t get a straight answer out of him,” Michael said. “And he’s pompous. You know if anyone had a reason to be full of himself it was my dad. But he wasn’t like that at all. Yes, he demanded respect. But he wasn’t a blow hole. Even Dr. Fulton’s weird… married to that loser—”

“
Enough
, Michael!” Paul blew up. “It’s none of the lieutenant’s
business
!”

“He’s investigating Dad’s murder, Paul.
Everything
about us is his business!”

Decker said, “Waterson seems to care about your mother.”

Michael said, “Cares a little
too
much if you ask me. He’s practically been living here.”

Paul snapped, “What is
wrong
with you? Waterson’s been a godsend, giving Mom and us… financial direction. We’ve all been so confused. At least,
someone
knows what he’s doing.”

Michael began to pace. “Well, Paul, I guess at this point I don’t trust anyone.”

“Go get Mom,” Paul said quietly.

Michael was about to speak. Instead, he said nothing, then disappeared upstairs. Paul said, “Can I get you something to drink, Lieutenant.”

“Nothing, thank you. How are you doing, Mr. Sparks?”

“Not great.” His eyelids shivered as his eyes watered. “Please take Michael’s words with a grain of salt. He’s upset, taking it out on Waterson. Yes, the guy’s a little puffed up. But that’s not why Michael’s angry.”

“I realize that. Did Waterson speak with your mom while he was here?”

“Yeah, for about a half hour. Truthfully, he
has
been here a lot. But then again, he’s conducting our financial business. He has questions to ask.”

“What do you know about your father and his motorcycle buddies?”

Paul’s expression turned puzzled. “Now there’s a non sequitur.”

“You know your dad rode with bikers, don’t you?”

“What about them?”

“He gave money to one of their causes. Some environment freedom act. Do you know anything about that?”

“Not a clue.” The eyelids fluttered. “What kind of environment freedom act?”

“I’m not sure,” Decker said. “It’s hard to understand these guys. From what I’ve gleaned, it deals with repealing restrictive legislation — things like mandatory mufflers on motorcycles, throwing back the age limit for operating All-Terrain Vehicles, getting rid of the helmet law, giving motorcycles more leeway on smog emissions. Any idea why your father would contribute to something like that?”

“No.” Paul sighed. “I hate to say it, but Mike was right. Dad did surround himself with some real strange characters. Anyway, Dad didn’t confide in me.”

“Who did he confide in?”

“Maybe Bram. But you won’t get anything out of him. Being a priest, Bram’s pretty tight-lipped about everything.”

“What about Waterson? Did your father confide in him?”

“I doubt it. Waterson’s been helpful.” Paul paused. “I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. But the man is painting himself like he was some old family friend. He and Dad were church friends. I know Dad helped him out when Waterson’s wife was sick. But as far as I know, they weren’t bosom buddies.”

“Interesting,” Decker said. “Why do you think he’s doing that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s money in it for him as executor of Dad’s estate.”

Paul thought a moment.

“Or maybe Waterson does have some empathy at our tragedy… my mother’s plight. He was broken up after his wife died. It was a long illness. I remember my wife occasionally cooking for him. So did Mom, my sister-in-law, and the other women at the church. Rotating days to bring him casseroles, stuff like that. Couple of times my parents had him over for Sunday dinner. His wife was too sick to come.”

“How’d that go?”

“Nice and polite. Waterson didn’t talk much. Dad kind of led the discussions. He seemed grateful, thanked my parents profusely for all they had done for him and Ellen… his wife. I also remember my parents talking about her death… how young she’d been…” Paul smiled. “Young meaning close to their ages.”

It was time to drop the bomb. Decker said, “Waterson paid a visit to the bikers this morning. Any idea why?”

“
Waterson?
”

“Yep.”

“Then he was lying about being with a client.”

“Unless the client was the bikers.”

Paul opened and closed his mouth. “How’d you find that out?”

Decker sidestepped the question. “Why would Mr. Waterson go visit your father’s biker buddies?”

“I haven’t the foggiest notion. This is very weird.”

“Did your father leave them money in his will?”

“I don’t know. Waterson hasn’t read us the will. Maybe my father did leave them something. I was under the impression that Waterson couldn’t distribute any funds until the will has been formally read. Isn’t that how it works?”

“Usually. Unless your father wrote a secret codicil requesting something else.”

Paul was quiet.

“How about your mother?” Decker said. “What would she know about your father’s finances?”

“From what she’s told me, not much. Dad was from the old school. Hide the problems, keep the wife and family free from worry. Which meant that Mom was pretty much kept in the dark. But knowing my mother, she’s more aware than she’s letting on. She’s a sharp woman. Perceptive in that behind-the-scenes way.”

Paul’s eyes looked upward. Suddenly, his eyelids started fluttering.

“Oh Lord.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Paul made a face. “I didn’t realize my sister-in-law was up there with her.”

Decker looked at the woman descending the staircase. The anorexic woman with short, short platinum hair who had glommed on to Bram at the memorial reception yesterday.

“Luke’s wife?”

“Certainly she’s not Bram’s.”

Decker smiled. “Ask a stupid question…”

Paul turned around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine. Her name is Dana?”

Paul nodded. When she came to the bottom of the stairs, Dana appraised her brother-in-law with a cool eye. “Hello, Paul.”

“Dana. Didn’t know you were here.”

“Mother and I were just reading Bible together.” Nearly colorless eyes looked at Decker. “Who’s this?”

Paul made the introductions. She offered Decker a slender hand. “Nice to meet you.”