„Do you mind another theory? You were taller than all the other children in that picture. And even then you had the body of a young god. I think my niece latched onto the idea of you as a protector. And then, on the worst night of her life, you showed up. That must have been quite magical for Bitty. I saw you talking to her. It did her a world of good – your kindness. You were her hero that night. And this morning, you were mine.“
Before therapist and patient could complete this colossal blunder of trading places, Charles picked up his napkin and laid it on the table as his white flag.
Bitty Smyth had retired to her room. Hours had passed by since she had spoken to her aunt on the phone. The cockatiel entertained her by walking about in circles and reciting his entire vocabulary.
Rags only knew one word. „What?“
The bird had learned this from her. She rarely slept through the night, always rising at some point, sitting up in bed to say that word with each sound that roused her from sleep.
She knelt down beside the cage on the floor and filled the bird’s water cup. After pouring him some fresh seed, she realized that she was also hungry. Sensing no one at home anymore, Bitty ventured out to forage for food. She made her way down the stairs, creaking in all the places that made her believe the staircase was always only minutes from falling down.
The front door opened. Bitty grabbed the rail and held it white-knuckle tight.
Oh, it was only the housekeeper with her grocery bags. What was her name? There had been so many of them, none of them lasting for more than a week or so. The new hire tapped in the code to disable the security alarm, then proceeded across the wide front room.
Bitty called down her late lunch order. „And could you bring it upstairs?“
The woman scowled at this with good reason. It was a chore and a half just to climb to the second floor, and she had already made this trip too many times in one day.
Of late, Bitty had developed a backbone, and now she insisted that a meal be delivered to her room. She had no plans to be caught downstairs when her mother and uncle came home.
Retreating to her room, she passed the time with the old family albums retrieved from storage in the north attic. The bird clawed his way up the weave of the bedspread to join her in examining the photographs, tasting the pages and tearing off the corners. Bitty absently stroked the comb of yellow feathers, and Rags’s tiny eyes soon closed in sleep.
The photography had ended the year of the massacre. In the yearly portraits of the Winters and their brood, all the children were gathered on Nedda’s side of the photograph. Cleo clung to her eldest sister, and Lionel played with her hair. The others were seated at Nedda’s feet.
A loud knock on the door awakened the bird with a start. „What?“ Rags flapped his useless wings and dropped off the edge of the bed, hitting the floor with a dull thud. „What?“
Bitty rose to answer the heavy-handed knocking. This could only be the resentful housekeeper with her lunch. Upon opening the door, she was faced with her worst fear for the evening. Her mother pushed past her to enter the room.
„Why is Nedda staying with Dr. Butler? Tell me,“ Cleo demanded. „What happened at that police station?“
„Don’t be difficult,“ said Uncle Lionel, as he also entered into the bedroom uninvited.
„Aunt Nedda thought you didn’t want her here.“
Uncle Lionel was not surprised by this. „Did Neddy say why?“
„No, but she’ll be back around dinnertime.“
„I know that,“ said Lionel, holding up a folded piece of paper. „The housekeeper took a message from her. She asked if we could both stay at home this evening. She wants to talk to us. Do you know what this is about?“
Behind her uncle’s back, the bird was climbing up the lace curtain, his claws leaving holes and tatters in his wake. He gained a perch on the curtain rod, then spread his wings, stepped off into thin air – and dropped like a stone. Bitty watched the stunned creature stumble about in a circle. Lame for decades, old Rags persisted in the idea that he could fly.
Well, this was fun.
Riker counted eight men and women, the partners of this venerable law firm, and they were almost gasping for breath. The air was not so rarified on the lower floor of their holdings. In this nether region, accountants and clerks were caged alongside a storage area for files that dated back a hundred and twenty years. Riker doubted that the attorneys had ever visited this land of the underpaid, though it was only three flights below their penthouse offices.
The firm was obviously a family business, for he could see traces of Sheldon Smyth among the assembled faces, a replicated nose or chin, a pair of snake eyes here and there. Their ages ranged from the twenties to the sixties, and yet they had lined up like children in a fire drill, all eyes on the drill instructor.
His partner had quickly adjusted all of their attitudes, and Mallory had done this without the necessity of shooting one of them as an example to the rest. They listened to her very attentively as she recited the parameters of the warrant. Two of the lawyers seemed on the verge of projectile vomit. Paul Smyth, son of Sheldon, went pale when Mallory said, „The seizure of documents covers every file even remotely connected to the Winter family trust. That includes the firm’s Financials.“ She tossed this last phrase off as an afterthought, leaving them all with the impression that it was true, and she was not expecting any arguments.
Riker held his breath for a moment, then realized that she was going to get away with this. Amazing. These people all held their own copies of exactly the same warrant.
The two detectives watched in silence while the storage room was gutted by uniformed officers carrying cartons, stacking them in the waiting freight elevator and returning for more. Not satisfied with this staggering plunder of hard copy, Mallory slipped her own disc into the firm’s computer, startling the partners anew, saying, „This is federal software. It’s coded to pick up only transactions for the Winter family. Everything else is disregarded as inviolate material.“
Riker knew she was lying, but the eldest lawyer, no doubt left behind by the age of computers, was actually nodding, as if he had heard of this magical, mythical software of hers. The others, perhaps a little more savvy, were hemorrhaging as she copied their entire database. This was a major gamble. Riker knew one elderly judge who would have a heart attack if Mallory’s fairy tale on the financials ever got back to him.
And now Sheldon Smyth had arrived. His white head poked out of an elevator, uncertain of his bearings in this strange new world of badly dressed underlings. The knot of his tie was crooked, and he weaved a bit as he sauntered out, puffing up his chest in a prelude to voicing something lawyerly.
Riker put up one hand to ward off Mallory, then picked up the warrant and flashed it. Faster than he could fire off a bullet, this had the effect of deflating the old man, who bent at the waist and plopped down in the nearest chair.
„It’s all going to come out.“ Mallory’s eyes were cast down to the computer keyboard as she spoke to the old man. „If you want to cut a deal, now’s the time.“ She raised her face and graced Sheldon Smyth with a smile designed to make him wet his pants. „I know what you did.“
It was not the petulant housekeeper, but Bitty’s mother who fetched the tray of food upstairs. „Here, eat something. We’ll discuss your aunt later on.“
Bitty had lost all interest in food, but her mother prodded her and stood over her until the plate was cleaned and the teacup emptied.
„I’m going to call your father. Sheldon will know what to do.“