“Jumped in and started swimming away,” Howell said. “I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me; he just kept going.”
“We found his body nearly a mile along the lake,” the captain said, shaking his head. “I expect we’ll get a suicide-by-drowning verdict from the coroner. Wasn’t a mark on him.”
“He seemed to hear the piano and see something outside on the deck before he started firing,” Howell said. “I think he must have been hallucinating. He’d had a lot of bourbon to drink.”
“Well, there’s no piano on the tape,” the captain said. “I guess maybe he must have been. I’ll tell you, though, I’d have said that Bo Scully was just about as level-headed a fellow as I ever knew. This sure don’t fit him.”
“I guess every man has his breaking point,” Howell said. “He’d been under a lot of pressure, I think, what with having killed Sutherland and having the drug delivery aborted.”
“I wouldn’t say exactly aborted,” the captain came back. “We’re still looking for that furniture van. The GBI have picked up an Air National Guard lieutenant colonel down at Dobbins Air Force Base, though. Maybe they’ll get something out of him.”
“I’d be willing to bet that his training logs jibe with the schedule from Scully’s files.”
The captain put his hands on his knees and stood up. “Well, counselor,” he said to Enda McCauliffe, “I can’t see any reason to detain your clients. Everything they’ve told me seems to be backed up by the evidence we have.” He put on his Stetson hat and squared it carefully. “I don’t mind telling you, though, this is the damnedest thing I’ve investigated in nineteen years on the job.”
“I don’t doubt it,” McCauliffe said, shaking the man’s hand.
“Just as long as they’re available if we need to know anything else,” the captain said, and took his leave.
McCauliffe came back to the fireplace and flopped into a chair. “I think we did the best thing,” he said to Howell and Scotty. “If you’d told him what you told me, we’d never hear the end of it, not for the rest of our lives.” Mac still looked skeptical.
“I think you’re right,” Howell said. “I’d be hard pressed to tell the truth about what happened; I’m still not sure what the truth is.”
“I don’t have any speculation to offer,” the lawyer said, “but I do have Bo’s will.” He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew, a heavy, blue, legal envelope. “He typed this out himself and brought it to my office to be witnessed a few days ago. Following Bo’s instructions at the time, I opened it and read it when you called me and told me he was dead.”
“I remember his working on something all one morning at the office and saying he was going over to your place,” Scotty said.
McCauliffe nodded. “It’s pretty straightforward. He leaves everything to his only living relative, Heather M. MacDonald, also known as Scotty Miller.”
“Is it legal?” Howell asked.
“Airtight,” the lawyer replied, then took another, plain envelope from his pocket and handed it to Scotty. “He left this for you.”
Scotty opened the envelope and read the sheets inside while Howell and McCauliffe waited. Finally, she looked up. “It’s a short version of what he told us last night,” she said, “and the number of the Swiss bank account.”
“That’s a bunch of money, Scotty,” Howell said.
“I don’t want it,” she said, unhesitatingly.
“It’s dirty money. I liked him, in spite of everything, and I’d rather forget that part of him.” She turned to McCauliffe. “Can I give it away?”
“Well,” the lawyer said, “there’ll have to be some negotiations with the Internal Revenue Service; you can give away what’s left. In any case, you don’t need the money. Bo was Eric Sutherland’s heir, and you’re Bo’s heir. I can’t give you a figure off the top of my head, but you’re a very wealthy young woman.”
Scotty nodded. “That occurred to me. I don’t know what the hell I’ll do with it.”
“There’s a fair amount of liquid stuff – stocks and bonds, plus his house – but the main thing is the lake. You’re the majority stockholder in the power company – the banks have a chunk.”
Scotty looked at him and grinned. “Does that mean I can hand out lakefront lots around here?”
“Yep. You’re the boss, or will be, when the will is probated.”
“Okay, Johnny,” she said, turning to How-ell, “Take your pick. Find a lot you like, and it’s yours. It’s the very least I can do for you.”
“Thanks, Scotty, I’ll take you up on it. I think a place on another part of the lake, though. It gets a little hairy around here.”
“There’s something else, Scotty,” McCauliffe said. “It seems pretty clear that you’re entitled to the money that Sutherland thought he paid Donal O’Coineen, plus the interest that’s been building up for the last twenty-five years. I’ll make a claim with the bank, if you like. Strictly speaking, the transaction never took place, since Kathleen forged Donal’s signature on the transfer deed, but it hardly matters, I think, because you’re O’Coineen’s heir as well as Sutherland’s. They were both your grandfathers. I can straighten out the legal end of it with the bank.”
Scotty put her hands to her cheeks. “This is getting to be too much for me to handle.”
“Can I make a suggestion, Scotty?” Howell asked.
“Sure. I could use a suggestion.”
“Before you start thinking too much about your inheritance, why don’t you let Mac sort things out for you here? Just go back to Atlanta, write your story, and be a reporter. I think you’d be very unhappy doing anything else for quite a while, speaking as somebody who left the profession before he should have.”
“That’s good advice,” Scotty replied. “Mac, you want to be my lawyer?”
McCauliffe grinned. “Sure, I’m already working for the power company, anyway, for my sins.” He closed his briefcase and stood up. “Well, I’ve got things to do. We’ll talk later.” He left Howell and Scotty alone.
Scotty came and put her arms around Howell.
He winced. “Ouch,” he said.
“Sorry, I forgot about the ribs. Listen, why don’t you come back to Atlanta with me? I’ve gotten sort of used to having you around.”
Howell put his hands on her shoulders. “That’s very tempting, but you and I have different fish to fry for a while. When this story breaks, you’re going to have to spend some time dealing with fame, not to mention fortune. Me, well, I think I’ve got a shot at recapturing something I thought I had lost. I’m not sure I could do it if anyone were watching.”
“I guess you’re right,” she replied, and kissed him lightly. “I’ll miss you, though.”
“That’s nice to hear,” Howell said. “Listen, Scotty, there was something going on between you and Bo last night that I never got a handle on. What was it?”
Scotty grinned ruefully. “Well, that was something between father and daughter, I guess you’d have to say. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one of these days.” She sighed. “I’m going to have him buried in his family plot, next to his mother. There’s nobody else to do it, and I guess it’s my job.”
Howell nodded. “You might think about putting Eric Sutherland alongside them. The three of them never found much peace together in life, but somehow, it seems right.”
“That makes sense. I’ll get Mac to make the arrangements.”
There was a knock at the cabin door. Howell went to answer it and found Leonie Kelly standing there. He turned to Scotty and McCauliffe. “Will you excuse us for a few minutes?” He walked her out onto the deck.
“I heard about Bo,” she said. “It’s all over the town; but what happened here?” she asked, picking her way through the broken glass.
Howell told her about his and Scotty’s experiences of the night before. “You’re the only person I know, apart from your mother, who would believe it,” he said. “I don’t think Mac does, and we gave a laundered version to the state patrol.”