• Twelve •

Emma’s car was a mini-Cooper. Off-white with a black stripe. I was surprised that I could fold my six-foot frame into the car, but it was comfortable. And very sporty.

We met Hal in a diner in Union Square. On weekends the wait to get in was at least an hour. Today we found a seat right away. It probably helped that Hal was waiting for us. The waitress came over and we ordered breakfast. Their French toast was made out of Portuguese bread. Why would I even try to resist it?

“We’re going to stop by the Century Foundation later and drop off Sully’s application,” Emma said. “We plan to say hello to Jerry.”

“He’s at work? Well, I guess he’s got a lot of things to take care of.” Hal stirred his coffee vigorously but didn’t take a sip. “Mimi’s memorial service is today, did you know that?”

“Today?”

“Jerry wants to do it today. He’ll plan a larger memorial for later this spring.”

“I suppose I can’t really blame him for that,” I said. “Better to get it over with.”

“Precisely what I advised,” Hal said. “I suspect he would appreciate seeing you there, Emma. If it isn’t too painful.”

“Thank you, Hal. Too painful? Hopefully not. I may bring Sully with me for moral support. She helped me through a lot this winter.”

“Friends are important during difficult times,” Hal said. “Emma, I know this is terrible timing, but we’ve been wondering if you’d reconsider your Century Project involvement. I only ask because Jerry is trying to wrap some things up before he leaves.”

“Leaves?” I asked.

“He’s going away for a few weeks. To try to get over this. Of course, the way things are nowadays, he’s almost always reachable.”

“I’m not sure what you are asking, Hal,” Emma said.

“We both know that a continued investment by Whitehall and Associates would be a tremendous vote of confidence in the projects. It always would have been, of course, but it’s even more important now. This sort of, um, situation makes investors uneasy. And I’d hate for Mimi’s legacy to be the death of this next set of projects. Gus has our newest proposal. Unless he gave it to you to look over? Did he? Leave the proposal with you, I mean?”

“The last time I spoke to Gus about this, he was advising we pull back even farther,” Emma said quietly. “Sorry, Hal.”

Hal sat back and toyed with his coffee mug.

“We haven’t been able to reach Gus since yesterday afternoon,” I added. It wasn’t an elegant way to ask the question, but it was the best I could do. “You haven’t spoken to him, have you?”

“Me, no. But I have spoken to Kate,” Hal said. “I got the distinct impression they’d reconsidered and she was recommending reinvestment. Presumably because she’d spoken to Gus.”

“I haven’t spoken to Kate,” Emma said. “I’ll try to connect with her later. I’m sorry, Hal. Without speaking to Gus, I don’t feel comfortable moving forward. I know you understand. Maybe we can revisit this when Jerry gets back?”

“Here’s an idea. Let me share the most recent set of documents with you, so you can look them over before you speak with Kate. Gus suggested most of the changes. He agreed on a more moderate withdrawal timeline. Here, the documents are in this folder. I just sent you a link,” Hal said.

“Hal, I don’t know how to make that work—”

“I do,” I said. “I’ll help you figure it out. Maybe we can give Kate a call and she can talk you through it?” That way I’d also be able to look at the documents. Something was hinky. Was this one of the reasons Gus had gone off the grid?

“Okay, but I’d rather wait until Gus gets back—” Emma said.

“Yes, a good idea,” Hal replied. “To wait until Gus gets back. But the timing is getting tricky, what with Jerry leaving … tell you what, we’ll talk about this later. After the service. How does that sound?” Hal didn’t wait for an answer. He took out a couple of bills and tossed them on the table. “The service is at three at the Boston Synagogue.” He stood to leave, but I interrupted him by putting my hand on his arm.

“Hal, have you spoken with Babs?”

He almost turned purple, but his tone remained well-modulated. “Not since her last text. Maybe Holly has.” He turned and left the diner without looking back.

The waiter poured me another cup of coffee and I sipped it gratefully. I took out my notepad and started writing.

“What was that?” Emma asked. I looked up and she was looking right at me.

“What?”

“Asking about Babs. You don’t think she’s missing too, do you?”

“I wanted to see how he reacted. It’s probably nothing,” I said. “So, about the agreements Gus had, and then canceled. What exactly are they?”

“They were letters of agreement. Prospectuses on different Century Projects. A ton of paperwork that Gus generated. Seriously, it’s a ton of paper. It must all be in that file. Things were flying back and forth between Gus’s office and the Cunningham Corporation and Hal’s office. I wasn’t keeping up with them, especially after Gus put the brakes on. I think Gus shared a folder with me already. I’ll check on that later. I’ll forward you Hal’s link so you can help me look at the documents.”

“Do you know why Gus put the brakes on?”

“No, not really. It was less about the Century Projects we were partnering with and more about the other companies they were aligned with, or so Gus said. He talked to me about it last week, and then we had that meeting on Monday with Eric with his final recommendations. As I said, we told Hal and the Cunninghams on Monday. They asked us to go to the reception anyway, let bygones be bygones. I think the plan was to get us to change our minds, but Gus sent the letters of dissolution out late that night. I should have asked him more questions, but I thought we’d catch up yesterday.”

“It’s weird he didn’t tell Kate, isn’t it?” I said. “Aren’t they partners?”

“This is Gus’s story to tell, but my impression is that he and Kate are on the rocks, professionally and personally. Kate has great ambition. I think she’s considering going to work for the Cunninghams as an in-house lawyer. That might have been one of the reasons Gus seemed to be thinking about ending the relationship last time we talked. Their relationship is complicated.”

“Maybe there were some other side deals that Gus didn’t like?” I asked, trying not to get distracted by that interesting tidbit. For someone who didn’t like gossip, Emma was a font of information.

“Possibly. I know we need to talk to Kate,” Emma said. “But first, we need to get downtown to see Jerry. Hold on to your hat, I’m going to take a shortcut.”

“So where exactly is the Cunningham Corporation?” I asked Emma as she zipped through traffic. She’d texted Eric before we left, asking if he could come to Mimi’s memorial that afternoon.

“Park Square, in that new building with the spire on top.”

“How much of it is given over to the Century Foundation?”

“The corporation and foundation occupy the top floors of the building. When specific projects are underway, teams come in and share office space as well. The Century Projects are quite the brand throughout New England.”

“They sure are,” I said. “That was probably Hal’s doing. There’s a new project opening this spring, the Century Art Center up near the New Hampshire border—”

“They’re doing a second Century Cape Project. You’re right, Century was all about branding. At least that’s what Terry always used to say,” Emma said. Her jaw clenched as it always did when mentioning her late husband. “Eric emailed this morning and said he wanted to hire a private investigator to look at the business projects we’ve invested in with the Cunninghams.”

“Didn’t your company do that work before you signed any contracts?”

“The Cunningham partnership was a Terry deal,” Emma said. “We assumed he did the work—maybe he did? Or he just ignored what he found? He probably leveraged it for his own benefit.” Terry’d had a very tangled relationship with the family business.

“Gus would have—” I began.

“Gus didn’t come in until late last fall. He’s been untangling the spaghetti that my father’s paranoia and Terry’s duplicity built ever since.”

“Huh,” I said. “Well, if the Century branding was done to hide something, they did a good job. There are Century Projects all over New England, and the Century Foundation has funded some great work.”

“I know that the foundation has contributed a great deal to the region,” Emma said. “But Gus said he’s been hearing that a couple of the Century Projects have run into some snafus, with projects being delayed or stopped midway. Have you heard anything?”

“No, but I don’t travel in the same circles you do,” I said.

“It’s probably nothing. You should hear what folks say about the Whitehalls,” Emma said. “Seriously, trash talk is part of the business. Anyway, we’re here. Let me valet the car.”

Emma and I made our way up to the main offices. Traveling with a Whitehall had its benefits. For one thing, when we walked into the Cunningham Corporation, someone recognized her. We dropped off the grant application and then walked to the other end of the hallway and opened a black-glass door.

“Ms. Whitehall?” the woman sitting at the desk at the other end of the room asked. The space looked more like a living room than a reception area, and I had to wonder if it was usually full of people, or if it was always a bit empty and mostly for show.

“Sherry, hello. So good to see you. I didn’t expect that you’d be in today. My friend Sully needed to drop off a grant proposal. Thank you so much for getting us in to see Jerry. I don’t want to intrude, but I did want to pay my respects. This must be a terrible time for all of you.”

“Thank you so much. Yes, it is terrible. I still can’t believe it. It’s so … difficult. But he insisted we come in today and get some things done before the service.”

“Coming into the office helps keep the mind occupied. I know that firsthand.”

“I know you do,” she said. “Perhaps it will be good for him to see you, since you’ve been through the same thing so recently? I’m so sorry, that was inappropriate—”

“No, its fine. I’m happy to say hello and let him know I’m thinking about him.”

Ironically, Peter Whitehall’s death had brought Emma and me closer together, which was a sliver of a silver lining in a very dark cloud. Sherry was right—murder forged a common bond between those left behind. I looked over at my second cousin. She was a stoic Yankee, but no one was that stoic. Much as I was grateful for the opportunity to see Jerry Cunningham, I was sorry that the situation raised the specter of loss for my friend. It hadn’t been nearly long enough for her grief to not cause tremendous pain. I reached over and rubbed her arm gently. She smiled at me and went over to take a seat.

Sherry disappeared into the next room and closed the door behind her. My phone vibrated and I stepped aside to answer it.

“Sully, its Harry. Just wanted to tell you that Holly still hasn’t been able to reach Babs Allyn. Rumors are flying.”

“What rumors?” I whispered.

“That she killed Mimi Cunningham. Because she was having an affair with Jerry. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“Whoa. Damn. Listen, we’re going to go in and see Jerry Cunningham any minute. I’ll check and let you know how that goes. Call or text me if you hear anything else.”

My phone manners, which were never stellar, had completely gone out the window with the advent of cell phones. No hellos, no goodbyes. Just on and off. But now I had an excuse for my abrupt hang-up beyond bad manners. My mind had started to whir, and I needed to process a couple of new ideas before I saw Jerry Cunningham. Could Babs have strangled Mimi? It wasn’t impossible. But why? Was the affair rumor true? Why was I just hearing about it now?

I sat next to Emma on the couch in Sherry’s office while we waited. Emma was busy sending an email or a text on her phone, so I didn’t interrupt. Besides, I wanted to wait until we were out of the building to share the rumors about Jerry and Babs. I needed to clear my mind, so I looked around. Although the building was new, the office had an old Boston air about it. Cherry wainscoting, desks, and built-in cabinetry. The couch was mid-century with gold upholstery and brick red, avocado green, and slate blue squares and dashes. The area rug was the same palette. The décor made the office feel both old fashioned and modern. With money.

I didn’t have time to process much more than initial impressions because Sherry came back to usher us into the inner sanctum, Jerry’s office. Emma seemed right at home there. The man himself stood up and came around his desk. He looked sallow beneath his tan, and bags sat under his eyes. His hair wasn’t perfectly coiffed, nor was his suit pressed. To the right a door was slightly ajar, showing a bathroom. I saw a suit bag hanging on the door.

“Emma, thank you for coming by.” He took both of her hands in his and held them.

“Jerry, I can’t tell you how very, very sorry I am. I know how hard this is.”

“Yes, I know you do. I was just thinking about how inadequate I was in December …”

“Don’t. Don’t.” Emma griped both of his hands. When she turned to me I saw tears in her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t as stoic as I’d first thought.

Jerry turned to me. “Thank you, Sully, for coming by.”

“Mr. Cunningham, I’m so sorry about your wife. I hope they catch the person responsible.”

“Jerry, please. The police have been very good about keeping me updated on the investigation. Not that there’s much to keep up with at this point.”

“I’m sure there will be a break in the case soon.” And I was. Socialites like Mimi Cunningham getting murdered in a public park? Not tolerable. I was trying to figure out how to tactfully ask if they had any leads, but that was a tough conversation to jump into.

“Well, I hope they make the right assumptions. From what I understand, I think they’re focusing on Gus,” Jerry said. “I have an alibi for Mimi’s murder, but last night they started asking a lot more questions about Gus.”

“Gus isn’t responsible,” I said, sounding harsher than I meant to.

“I agree, but the cops don’t,” he said. “Apparently there was some contract discrepancy regarding one of the Century Projects—the office building on Newbury we started working on together. Some funding discrepancies because of Gus’s paperwork. I’m not sure where they were headed with their reasoning, but I think he may be in trouble.” The phone buzzed and Jerry picked it up, grunted twice, and hung up. “Sorry, ladies. I have a few phone calls I need to make before I fly out.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Emma asked, feigning ignorance.

“Yes, I’m heading out of the country for a bit right after the service to get my bearings.”

“Of course. I often wish I’d taken some time after … but you’ll be at the meeting tomorrow, won’t you?”

“Meeting tomorrow?”

“Eric just texted me about it. Given everything, the changes we made in our business dealings, we have that escrow account that can be closed.”

“My flight is tonight, late. Perhaps my proxy can fill in?”

“Jerry, your proxy was Mimi,” Emma said gently. “Under the circumstances you, Eric, and I need to be there.”

“If we don’t sign the paperwork tomorrow?”

“The money stays in escrow and some of the penalties kick in.”

“Any way we can move the meeting up?”

“No, sorry. Eric won’t be in Boston until tomorrow afternoon. Late. He won’t be able to make an earlier meeting. We could postpone until you get back, but you’ll need to cover the cost of the—”

“No, no. That won’t work. Let’s get the money moving to the right places. Can Kate fill in for Gus?”

“I guess so,” Emma said. “I’ll ask Eric to check on that.”

“Let’s assume so, and meet tomorrow to get this taken care of. I know you Whitehalls could use your funds being freed up. I’ll reschedule my flight.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Of course. A few hours delay. No big deal.”

“Thank you, Jerry. We’ve taken up so much of your time.” Emma got up to leave. I’d have liked to ask a few more questions, but I followed Emma’s lead and stood up as well.

“Please, Emma, it was wonderful to see a friendly face,” Jerry said. Emma hesitated, then walked over and embraced him.

“Anything you need, Jerry. Anything. Just let me know.”

“Thank you. That means the world to me.” He stepped back and wiped his eyes.

We waited until we were in the car before we spoke. There was something about the building that made you feel as if you were being watched all the time. Because you probably were. Once we were on Storrow Drive and she could shift into gear, Emma pushed a button on her steering wheel.

“Call Eric’s cell,” she instructed. I listened while the phone connected.

“Eric? You can’t come to Mimi’s funeral this afternoon after all. I told Jerry you were out of town until late tomorrow afternoon. Call me when you get this.” She disconnected the call.

“So, he could have had Jerry sign papers?”

“And conveniently left Gus holding the bag. Listen, Sully, Jerry was lying. Gus and I specifically talked about the Newbury building contract specifics, and I signed off on them. There’s no possible malfeasance. Unless someone changed the contracts.”

“To make it look like Gus was guilty. Which he couldn’t fight because he isn’t around right now. Convenient, isn’t it?” I said.

“Right. So I bought a few hours for us to figure out what the hell is going on,” Emma said. “I don’t think Jerry killed Mimi. But I wouldn’t put it past him to cover it up if it was in his best interest.”

“Even the murder of his wife? I don’t know them well, but they seemed devoted.”

“They were. I have no doubt that Jerry will find justice for Mimi, even if he has to pay for it.”

“Great. Vigilante justice. More common than I like to think about,” I said.

“Really? You must have some interesting stories, Sully.”

“Here’s one. Harry said that there’s a rumor going around the theater that Babs and Jerry were having an affair. And that Babs killed Mimi.”

“An affair with Babs? Really? Huh.”

“Huh? You don’t seem surprised.”

“You know, maybe it’s because of what I went through with Terry, but I’m more sympathetic to unconventional unions than I used to be. I do think Jerry and Mimi were devoted, but they’d been married a long time. But still, Jerry and Babs? I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“That could explain the scene the other night,” I said, remembering drinks thrown in faces.

“It sure could. Maybe Jerry is going to meet Babs somewhere? Nah, I don’t believe it. I’ve heard that Babs was going through changes, but I don’t think she left Hal for Jerry.”

“But she did leave Hal?”

“Still trying to pin that down, but the latest I’ve heard is that they’ve been separated for a while. She may have filed for divorce.”

“Emma, you are a font of information.”

“Eric’s bored in Trevorton. He fancies himself a private investigator. He’s been asking around, looking at public records.”

“I’ll talk to him about privacy laws later. So, Babs filed? Not Hal?”

“No, not Hal. He couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t? Come on, spill. There’s a cone of silence in this car. Tell me what you know.”

“I’ve known Hal for years. He has a summer house the next town over, did you know that?”

“I do. He’s a donor to the Cliffside.” Sometimes I felt as though I’d been close to Emma for years, but other times I was reminded that we still had to figure out how our adult lives intersected.

“So do you know him well?” she asked.

“I know him like I know a lot of our donors. He comes to events, always writes at least two checks a year. He’s advised on a couple of projects. We tried to get him on the board last summer, but he declined.”

“That was right after Martin disappeared.”

“Right. Hal talked about needing a change of scenery. Come to think of it, Babs wasn’t with him, but I just assumed she was back in the city working,” I said. “He was around a lot last summer. He’s a nice guy who picks up the bar bill at the Beef & Ale. But he’d always leave alone.”

“You know, one of the things I always liked about Hal was that our business life and our friendship didn’t overlap. But lately he’s been off his game a bit—pushing more. I’ve been giving him space, but it’s getting uncomfortable. Part of what made him so successful was that he knew when to walk away and come back another day. But not so much lately.”

“Yeah, he’s been pushing me a little too, wanting to do rebranding on the Cliffside,” I said. “I’m surprised he hasn’t brought it up these past few days, but we’re small fry compared to the other things going on. Anyway, bad marriages can screw you up. We both know that.”

“We do indeed,” Emma said.

“Do you know Babs well?” I asked.

“Not as well as I do Hal, but pretty well. She reminds me of myself, actually. Born Yankee. Pretty tightly wound. Married to a charismatic man.”

“And successful on her own. We were on the same panel at the last StageSource conference and ended up going out to dinner. She is really, really good at what she does, and she’s kept the Bay Rep running despite the challenges with changing artistic directors the past couple of years. I’m really surprised she left the company in the lurch this week.”

“Who’s running things?” Emma said.

“Holly Samuel.”

“Martin’s daughter? I forgot she was back working for Babs.”

“Hal came in while I was in the office yesterday. When he told Holly about Mimi, she didn’t seem too upset. She made some accusations about her father’s disappearance. Can you remember anything else about what happened with Martin? There wasn’t much real information in the articles I found online.”

“Not anything more than I told you already—” Emma began.

“Please, Emma, you travel in those circles. Guaranteed you know more than I do.”

“Okay, let me think it through again. It was last March that Hal, Babs, Martin, the Cunninghams, and a few other people chartered that boat in the Caribbean. They went to bed one night, and when they woke up Martin was gone. So were the lifeboat and his overnight bag.”

“Was anyone questioned?”

“I’d imagine they all were, but no one was arrested. No one talked about it. The assumption was that Martin had taken a powder for a while, but it’s been almost a year.”

That’s the problem with Yankee stock, especially among the upper crust. Minding your own business is ingrained into their DNA. Not that they don’t gossip, but it’s hard to make them break ranks and tell you what they know. Of course Emma was making an exception for me, but I was family. This all makes it really, really hard for investigators. Rich people justice. I ran into it last fall when Peter Whitehall was killed. They deal with their own.

Was that what had happened to Mimi Cunningham?

Emma and I decided to go back to the townhouse before the memorial service. She wanted to get some work done, and I wanted to do some more research. I walked into my apartment, or what I had started to consider my apartment, and was surprised to see Eric sitting at the kitchen table working on his computer. I gave him a big hug.

“When did you get here?” I asked.

“When Emma first called, I jumped in the car and headed down. I was here before I got your message. I planned to visit Harry soon anyway. I figured I would hide out and you could catch me up.”

I texted Emma, who came downstairs and brought her laptop. The two of us told Eric what had been happening over the past few days, concluding with our visit to Jerry Cunningham.

“So let me get this straight. I’m not going to the funeral this afternoon because we don’t want to sign the paperwork with Jerry and free up the assets that our company needs?”

“I know, I know,” Emma said. “But I want to figure out what Gus was worried about before we sign anything. I’ve looked over the numbers, the paperwork, everything a million times. It’s all in order. We sign the papers, our money is freed from escrow and we walk away. This is what I want. But considering that Hal asked me to go forward with the business, and then less than an hour later Jerry basically told me he’s going to cut and run—I don’t know. Something is going on. What do you think, Sully?”

“I don’t know the business ins and outs, but I’ve been listening to the conversations. And everyone is hiding something. The fact that we have a dead body, and Gus is missing, makes that statement pretty obvious.”

“By the way, ladies, I like what you’ve done with the cabinets,” Eric said.

“I hear you’ve been fancying yourself a private investigator lately,” I said. “Surely you know the technique.”

“Someone’s been spilling secrets, I see. I’m just trying to catch myself up,” Eric said. He glared at Emma, who refused to look up from her computer. “I’m ashamed at how little I knew about how the family business ran. Gus keeps uncovering things, and I’m sick of being surprised. So I’m preparing myself for any other skeletons in the closet by doing some background checks. I hire professionals when it gets too tough.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned this to me the other day?” I said.

“I was trying to figure some things out on my own. I’m getting reports together, and I’ll share them when I’m able, okay? I doubt they have anything to do with what happened,” Eric said. “Tell me about the cards on the cabinets.”

“We’ll tell you about the cards but you have to promise to fill in any information we haven’t put up there already. Promise?” I said.

“I promise,” Eric said.

“We’re trying to find Gus. He’s missing,” Emma said.

“Gus is really missing? Or is this the way you’re investigating Mimi’s murder while pretending to look for Gus? I mean, how can he just disappear?”

“Great question,” Emma said. “He’s been gone almost a day. Have you heard from him?” Eric shook his head.

“Maybe we can try and see Kate before the funeral,” I said.

“Kate? What does she have to do with anything?” Eric asked.

“Kate told me that Gus was dissolving any business remotely tied to the Century Project and the Cunningham Corporation. He apparently sent out official notices to folks on Tuesday.”

“Gus told me he was planning to do that,” Eric said. “At first I thought it was extreme, but he convinced me it made sense. He talked me through the business implications, the paperwork he needed to follow up on, legalities of dropping clients. Most of the clients were Kate’s, honestly.”

“When did you last speak with Gus?” Emma asked.

“Wednesday morning,” Eric said.

“Do you know what time?” I asked. Eric picked up his phone and swiped through a screen.

“Seven o’clock. We spoke for fifty-two minutes.” Eric put his phone back down on the table. “Everything seemed on track, but he did seem a bit distracted.”

“Distracted?” I asked.

“Well, it was to be expected, given Mimi’s death and all. His plan was to go after Jerry and Mimi a little harder, try to get us extricated from all Century Project activities, but that was going to take a lot more work. It would burn some bridges too. We agreed to wait until this weekend when I came down, so he, Emma, and I could discuss all the options in person.”

“Were you going to get yourself out of the Newbury Street project?” I asked. “That was the project Jerry seem to imply Gus had mishandled in some way.”

“Gus mishandled? Gus? There’s something going on with that project, but Gus and I were both in the dark. I spent the better part of yesterday trying to figure it out. All I’ve found out so far is that its bills haven’t been paid and companies are putting a lien on the property. I was hoping to talk to Jerry about that too.”

“What does Kate have to say for herself ?” Emma said. “She isn’t returning my calls or texts or emails.”

“Her voicemail is full,” Eric said. “Both on her cell and at the office. She isn’t returning my calls either. Emma, do you remember if she took the lead on the Newbury project, or was it Gus? I know Gus was the end-product point person, but why do I remember Kate playing a bigger role in this particular project?”

“I honestly don’t remember,” Emma said. “That was right around the time … right around the holidays. I know I sat through meetings, but I don’t really remember much. For all I know I dropped the ball on something important. I’m so sorry, Eric, I haven’t been holding up my end of the stick very well lately, have I?”

“Emma, don’t. You falling behind is one hundred percent better than most people’s best work. You didn’t miss anything. This is all a little squiggly. Listen, while you’re at the funeral, how about if I add some index cards to your timeline? Some details about the projects?”

“Eric, Hal shared a Dropbox folder with Emma this morning that he said had all the paperwork in it,” I said. “And Emma, you said Gus had shared a similar folder with you. Maybe it would be worth comparing the two? I wonder if there are some answers in there.”

“Sounds like my kind of project,” Eric said. “Emma, can you give me access?”

“Tell you what, brother, I’ll do you one better. Here’s the password to my email. Don’t judge, but it’s the same password for everything. Have at it, see what you can find. Forward the email to Sully so she can look at it too. Just remember to add notes to the index cards. Meanwhile, Sully and I will go to the funeral and represent the family.”