Fletch Reflected Page 16

  Fletch glanced at Jack from an even more lowered face. He sighed.

  “Well, I guess I should go question people,” Corso said. “About all these alleged accidents, horses falling over, frayed coffeepot wires, you say have been happening around here. You guys want to come with me? I mean, you guys can pick it up if someone says somethin’ you know not to be true from somethin’ you saw or heard, or somethin’. You know what I mean?”

  “Sure,” Fletch said.

  “I asked for people to be in the living room.” Corso opened the enormous brass-studded front door to the house.

  Jack leaned his bike against a column.

  He asked his father, “This guy any good?”

  Fletch said, “If he were any stupider he’d need a bar code.”

  They followed Corso into the house.

  “Freedom is the opportunity for self-discipline,” Fletch said. “Let’s see if anyone around here is an opportunist.”

  “Who said that?” Jack asked.

  “Fellow named General Eisenhower. Maybe he said, ‘Democracy is the opportunity for self-discipline.’”

  “You mean President Eisenhower?”

  “You know this lawyer, Nicolson?” Fletch asked.

  “No,” Jack said.

  “Apparently Radliegh’s personal lawyer. He got called in yesterday from Atlanta. It seems yesterday morning Radliegh suddenly wanted to review his Last Will and Testament.”

  “I know that to be true,” Jack said. “I heard Beauville and Radliegh’s secretary talking about it.”

  The living room actually was several living rooms, or large sitting areas, each large enough to seat twenty or more people comfortably, in one huge room.

  “Homey,” Fletch commented. “Makes me want to ask when my flight to Tulsa leaves.”

  “Do airlines still give out that kind of information?” Jack asked.

  “Not voluntarily,” Fletch answered. “Or reliably.”

  In one living area Beauville, Downes, and a third man Jack assumed was Nicolson stood in a group near the fireplace, the center of attention. On Sunday morning each wore a proper gray suit and tie.

  Mrs. Amalie Radliegh, in black dress, hat and gloves, sat in a wing-back chair. A black veil covered her face.

  The Radliegh children sat as separated from each other as they could be in that space.

  Daughter Amy MacDowell sat in another wing-back chair, suckling an infant.

  In black shorts, Alixis sprawled on one divan; in khaki slacks and blue button-down shirt, Chet sat a little straighter in another.

  Duncan, not shaven, hair uncombed, sat on the carpet in greasy overalls and t-shirt.

  Nancy Dunbar sat on the divan with Chet.

  Mrs. Houston was not there. Jack had just seen her on the road.

  Nor was Shana Staufel there. Jack had heard her leave his cottage shortly after dawn.

  “Oh, Jack …” Alixis looked up at him through tear sodden eyes. “I lost my daddy.”

  Jack said, “I never heard such crap.”

  Nicolson was talking to them all. “All I am saying is that there is plenty of money, of course. The estate will be settled. Each of you will be very well off. But…”

  “But what?” Chet asked.

  “But this is a surprise to us all. A terrible surprise.”

  Duncan scoffed.

  Downes said, “It’s a huge estate.”

  “With huge problems,” Beauville said.

  “No,” Nicolson countered. “There shouldn’t be any real problems.”

  “Of course there are,” Beauville said. “There always are.”

  “As you know,” Nicolson said, “your dad was a very well organized man.”

  Jack saw Fletch watching Corso. The Lieutenant evinced no intention of breaking in, taking control of this discussion, beginning his questioning. He seemed to have settled in his brown shoes and green trousers like a cop on a corner content to watch the human comedy.

  Alixis sniffed loudly.

  “But he was reasonably young and very healthy and did not know he was going to die last night,” Nicolson said.

  “What is your point?” Chet asked.

  The baby at Amy’s breast slurped.

  “Settling this estate is going to take a lot of time,” Nicolson said. “Two, three years, at least.”

  “While you lawyers dine out on it,” Alixis said.

  “Right,” Chet said. “While you each make your life’s fortune off it. You’ll take the rest of our lives to settle the estate. Build your hours. Generate paperwork. Misfile papers. Make wrong motions. You won’t get away with it. I won’t let you.”

  Duncan said, “How much do I get? When do I get it? I’ve got things to do.”

  Alixis said, “Duncan, we all want to get away from here.”

  From behind her veil, Mrs. Radliegh inquired, “Do any of you intend to stay for the funeral?”

  Jack heard a noise behind him and turned around.

  Shana stood there.

  Her face looked like that of an eagle. Her eyes seemed entirely protruding pupils. Her jaw was set to hold a beak.

  Standing behind Fletch, Corso and Jack, she was looking around them, watching the people in the living area, listening to them.

  She did not glance at Jack’s face.

  Amalie Radliegh said, “I think we should bury him out by the laundry yard. You know, where the maids air out the sheets?”

  “The point is,” Nicolson said, “there is only one hundred thousand dollars in available cash.”

  Alixis gasped. “A hundred thousand dollars?”

  “It’s mine,” Duncan said loudly. “I have to have it for my new racing car!”

  “Like hell, Duncan,” Amy said. “My children come first!”

  “I already owe eighty five thousand dollars!” Duncan said.

  Amy resettled the baby at her breast. “My children are the only grandchildren of Chester Radliegh. They come first. And they always will.”

  Amalie Radliegh said, “You know how Chester always liked his sheets aired out.”

  Alixis said, “To hell with you both. I need to set up a place in California.”

  Duncan said, “I don’t care what any of you say. I need to pay this bill, or the car won’t get finished in time to race.”

  “Now you’ll all get allowances from the estate,” Nicolson said. “Adequate allowances. It will take a little while to set them up.”

  “Allowance,” Chet said. “Lot of good that will do. You mean us all to stay here?”

  “Why not?” Downes asked. “Until things get set up.”

  “Well, I claim the apartment in New York,” Chet said. “And the rest of you can stay out.”

  “No one wants to live with you, Chet baby,” Alixis said. “But I do need to buy a place in Malibu. I’ve been promising it to myself.”

  Red-faced, Beauville seemed to be talking to the floor. “Well, I’m fed up for sure. Don’t look to me to run the company. I’m gone as soon as I get a decent offer.”

  A telephone rang. Nancy Dunbar reached from the divan and answered it. “Hello?”

  “We’ve all suffered enough, this place. Everybody spying,” Alixis said.

  “I see.” Nancy Dunbar hung up. She had not said, “I’ll take care of it.”

  Nancy said, “A child was just run over outside the General Store. Hit by a car. A six-year-old boy. He was killed.”

  “To hell with your brats!” Duncan exploded at Amy. “And you!” he said to Alixis. “It would be good to be rid of you. Talk about spyin’! But you’re not taking my money just to build yourself a human stud farm in Malibu!”

  Alixis snickered. “Oouh. How’d you guess?”

  “Damned nympho,” Duncan said.

  “Druggy,” Alixis said.

  “Where is Chester now?” Amalie Radliegh asked. “Where did they put him?”

  “I don’t know what to say to you all,” Nicolson said.

  “You’ve said it all.” Chet st
ood up. “I’m going. I’ll leave the jet at Atlanta airport, if anybody cares.”

  “We need some cooperation here, a little understanding.” Nicolson was pleading. “We’ve got to find a way of being fair!”

  Then Shana stepped around Fletch, Corso, and Jack. She moved toward the center of the living area.

  Her face was as red as the setting sun.

  “You murderers!” she screamed. Her right fist was up. “You’re all murderers! Every one of you! Each one of you murdered Chester as surely as if you had driven a knife through his heart!”

  Chet looked at her curiously.

  “Ah, shut up,” Duncan said.

  “Why is she yelling?” Amalie Radliegh said. “She’ll wake the dead.”

  To Amalie Radliegh, Shana said, “You did everything you could to make him miserable, every minute. You never tried to understand him! You just stayed in your room, taking pills, drinking by yourself, weeping, telling everybody how miserable you are! Love? Hell! You never even took responsibility. Did you ever try to teach your children to respect their father? To understand him?”

  “I never understood him myself,” Amalie said. “It was too much work. Well, it was impossible. The man would talk about anything from ants to spaceships.”

  “Did you ever listen to him?”

  “I did. At first. It wore me out. Are there ants in space, do you suppose? They’re everywhere else.”

  In a lower voice, hands on hips, Shana said, “You’ve all been trying to kill Chester. Each and every damned one of you.”

  “I haven’t,” Amy said. “I’ve made my life.” To Nicolson she asked, “There’s no way Vindemia is to be sold, is there?”

  “Who’d buy it?” Duncan asked. “Who’d want it?”

  Beauville answered, “I expect new corporate officers will want to move headquarters out of here. Who wants to live in this hellhole?”

  “I do,” Amy said. “My children do. I expect this place to continue.”

  “You’ll be mighty lonely here,” Chet said.

  “There’s Mother,” Amy said. “She’ll stay. Where could she go?”

  “That’s what I mean,” Chet said. “You’ll be mighty lonely.”

  “Paying the servants comes first,” Nicolson said. “Three have already resigned,” Nancy Dunbar said.

  “They have?” Downes asked.

  “They’re waiting for their checks in the kitchen,” she said. “I forgot to tell you.”

  “Nobody’s writing any checks on that money!” Duncan said. “I have an emergency. I wrote Dad a memo.”

  “I saw it,” said Downes. “For a college graduate you don’t spell worth shit.”

  “You have nothing to say about it, Downes!”

  “Sloppiest thing I ever saw. I can’t believe Vanderbilt sells degrees. How did you get a college degree, Duncan?”

  Chet said, “I’m gone.”

  “You are the most horrible people!” Shana’s eyes were closed. “None of you deserves anything! You never gave Chester a moment of peace! You never appreciated him as much as did his dog!”

  “I appreciate him now,” Amy said. “He’s dead.”

  “Freedom with moola.” Alixis stretched. “No one to tell me what to do.”

  “He always made me feel like shit,” Duncan said. “No one could be as good as he was.”

  “You made yourself feel like shit!” Shana said. “You are shit! Worthless shit! None of you is worth one hair of Chester’s head.”

  “Where is Arky?” Amalie asked. “I haven’t seen him around all morning.”

  “I shot him,” Duncan said. “I’ve been looking forward to doing that.”

  “You have no idea,” Shana continued as if talking to herself, “how hard he worked, how much he did for you, tried to do for you, how much he wanted for you, how much he loved you.”

  “Sure, sure,” Alixis said, “as long as we met all his demands.”

  “If there were justice …” Eyes still closed, Shana rocked a little on her feet. “There’d be a bus outside the front door to cart you all off to prison. You’re all murderers, as sure as God made little green apples.”

  Fists tight at her side, head down, Shana turned to leave the room into the foyer.

  “You’re the one that’s leaving, Shana old girl. Don’t hesitate.” Clumsily, Duncan lifted himself off the floor into a standing position. “Chet seems to be leaving without you. Did you notice?”

  “Justice …” Shana said.

  Amalie said, “We haven’t decided yet where to plant Chester. Who votes for near the laundry yard? I hate gravestones where you can’t help seeing them.”

  Getting up, Alixis said, “I’m packin’ my bikinis. Down payment on a Malibu house will take more than a hundred grand.”

  His finger in her face, Duncan shouted at her, “I told you that’s my money!”

  “Oh, stick it up your nose, Duncan.”

  “He would.” Rearranging her brassiere, Amy said, “That money goes to paying the servants and keeping this place running. There’s Grandmother to think of.”

  “Sure,” Duncan said. “You’re thinking of senile old Grandmother. It would be a little cheaper to put her in a nursery, don’t you think, cow? You we can put in the dairy.” To Nicolson, Duncan said, “My father planned for me to run this show. I’m taking that money.”

  “As a matter of fact,” Beauville said, “your father planned for you to start rehab tomorrow.”

  Duncan’s face drained of the little pallor it had. “Like hell.”

  “Sure,” Alixis said. “I’m sure he had plans for all of us. Plans and plans and plans.” Leaving the room, she said, “Well, he’s dead. So are his plans. Thank God.”

  Angrily, Duncan grabbed an end table and tossed it on its side. The lamp on it smashed. “Get me out of here!” Leaving, he stumbled over the table’s legs.

  Saying nothing, Amy carried her baby out of the room.

  Ashen, Nicolson and Downes remained standing as they were. Beauville was florid.

  “Has anything been decided?” Amalie asked from behind her veil.

  “Not a damned thing,” Nicolson said. “Except that you sure have four disrespectful, self-centered brats.”

  “That’s good,” Amalie said. “I’m feeling tired now.” Uncertainly, she stood up and headed out of the room. “I’m doing well not to weep.”

  Downes asked Dunbar, “What kid got run over?”

  “You see,” Beauville said to Nicolson, “the children here aren’t used to there being cars on the roads. Shows you how stupid this place is.”

  Still sitting on the couch, Nancy Dunbar spoke to Beauville. “I guess I’ve had it with this place, myself. I wasn’t sure until I just heard these people. I can’t stand it anymore. I guess I’ll leave today, too.”

  “Oh, that’s great!” Beauville said angrily. “Leave me completely in the lurch!”

  “I don’t think I care.” On high heels, Nancy Dunbar began leaving the room. “Unlike everyone else around here, I guess I’ve got what I want.”

  Corso said to Fletch, “I guess this wasn’t a good time to question these folks.”

  “You’ll never get them together again. Never.”

  “I don’t know what they had to say, anyway.”

  “Seems to me we heard quite a lot,” Jack said.

  “Laboratory accident,” Corso said. “That gas could have been there for years. That’s the easiest answer.”

  “Are you looking for the easiest answer?” Fletch asked.

  “Somebody had to arrange to release the gas,” Jack said.

  “Yeah, well. Maybe.”

  “Coming for lunch?” Jack asked Fletch.

  “Lunch. Can you do lunch?”

  “Sandwiches,” Jack said. “Cheese.”

  “I’ll be at your place in a few minutes. I think I saw a date on the label of that gas canister. I’ll just go back to the lab and check it.”

  “Yeah,” Corso said. “You do that. Let me
know.”

  24

  As Fletch walked back from the laboratory passing the main house, his pocket phone buzzed. “Hello?” On the driveway in front of the house he stopped to listen.

  “Fletch …”

  “Hi, Crystal. How are you doing this morning? Did you survive the night?”

  “I slept.”

  “That’s good.”

  “There must have been something in the milk.”

  “That was the milk. By itself. It’s the best sedative.”

  “I’ve had a breakfast of only grapefruit juice with protein powder in it, one coffee, vitamins and an amino acid tablet called L-Carnitine. Well, I had the tablet before breakfast.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “I feel very energetic. I’ve done a total of five sit-ups already this morning, and used the ankle and wrist weights a total of twenty minutes.”

  “You’ll sleep tonight.”

  A small jet airplane taking off from Vindemia’s airstrip roared over Fletch’s head.

  Fletch looked up at it.

  The plane was marked RADLIEGH MIRROR.

  He assumed it was Chet Radliegh leaving Vindemia, his family, his fiancée, leaving well before the funeral of his father.

  “How did you get workmen to come to this Godforsaken place on a Sunday morning?” Crystal asked.

  “I didn’t. What workmen?”

  “They’re replacing the mirrors here in the gym with perfect mirrors. They said the order came from I. M. Fletcher. I do believe you are I.M.?”

  “I am,” Fletch said. “It did. But I didn’t ask that the mirrors be delivered Sunday morning.”

  “Well, they’re here. The workmen showed up about eight o’clock. They’ve been working all morning.”

  “That’s nice,” Fletch said. “Guess I’ll be paying time-and-a-half or double-time, or something.”

  “Maybe not,” Crystal said. “Maybe they know about you. Maybe they heard about what you did to that terrible place, Blythe Spirit.”

  “Beg pardon?”

  Under the sound of the jet engine, Fletch had to strain to hear Crystal.

  “Blythe Spirit was a terrible place, Fletch.” Crystal’s voice was low. “I’m glad you got me out of there. All their expensive, expert help had succeeded only in making me hopeless. I’m glad you nailed those bastards.”