Chapter 15

I watched as Magda pretended to study the Christmas tree while Julie spoke. The whole setting felt exceedingly strange, yet strangely familiar. I had barely shared the same space with our mother in a decade. It had been nearly twenty years since we’d jointly shared a home with the twins. I felt the presence of the twins’ formidable father. Before he died, he had been that strong a character.

If I felt him, how did Magda feel?

But Magda was an adult who could take care of herself. The twins weren’t quite there yet, so I focused on Juliana’s horrifying revelation.

“Mrs. Overcamp treated me as if I were a criminal after I showed her that photo,” Julie explained in bafflement. “I wanted to call the police. She said the administration would handle it. It looked as if a body had been dumped into one of the construction holes, and she didn’t immediately call someone to look? I was appalled and confused. Shortly after that, I couldn’t find my phone. I retraced my steps, hunted all over, and it turned up in my desk the next day. I never kept it there. So I was suspicious. And then I noticed the battery ran down too quickly. I got very nervous after that.”

“I assume that was the end of October, early November? The same time you drew out all your cash and stopped using your bank account?” I probed deeper, hoping this was the only incident that had panicked her.

“I didn’t like knowing my phone was bugged. I assumed my computer was also not private,” she said with a shrug. “I was taught to keep a stash of money for emergencies, so I went to town and withdrew everything. As odd events continued, I didn’t return to the bank. I feared I might be followed. I tried to stay to myself and monitor my cameras in hopes of finding definitive evidence of what was happening.”

“You should have notified us at once!” Magda exclaimed.

Julie looked mulish. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“She doesn’t know us any better than she knows Mrs. Overcamp,” I pointed out. “Even less so, actually. Julie did exactly what she should have done under the circumstances—look for evidence to give to the authorities. But now it’s time to combine our knowledge and try to figure out what is happening.”

Magda hadn’t sat down since she’d returned to the room. She was like a trapped bird. She flitted to the foyer doorway again, and I could feel her tension. I knew what came next and didn’t even bother to turn to see her scowl.

“It’s rather obvious what is happening. I’ll handle this. Tell Elizabeth I’ll see her tomorrow. I may be late this evening.” She took flight down the hall.

“Mallard will be disappointed you won’t be home for dinner,” I said to the empty doorway.

So would EG, but she’s a tough little kid and was used to our vanishing mother. The twins. . . looked a little shell-shocked.

“This is why your father let your family take you away,” I explained as gently as I could. “But you’re adults now. You make your own decisions. As I’ve told you, this house belongs to you as much as any of us, so you’re welcome to stay. For now, the expenses for food and Mallard and so forth come out of our family account, but you’ll have to pay for personal items yourself until everything is sorted out.”

“But what of Reverend Arden?” Julie cried. “I cannot go home until I know what is happening.”

I hid my smile of satisfaction. “Then we work together to find out. Zander is helping by digging through the foundation’s accounts. Do you think you could start contacting all the students you know to ask about your missing friends? And possibly find out more about the parties the second year students attended?”

Julie nodded. “Is there a computer I can use?”

Zander and I exchanged grins. He’d learned quickly that computers were our bread and butter.

Graham had arranged a meeting between me and Reverend William Arden. I was already heading for the Metro when Nick called me.

“Is Juliana okay?” he asked first.

“She’s with us. Graham is spying on the embassy,” I informed him as I hurried down the wintry street. “You don’t have to get involved if it’s a problem for your career.”

“I’m not certain I’m cut out to be a flunky,” he said unhappily. “General Defense is an international industry with offices in the UK. The ambassador wants to know what Graham knows about them, and they’re encouraging me to stay in the mansion for Christmas, which means they’ve bugged my phone or my suitcase or something because they know Graham is bugging them. I think I’ll go back to cheating at cards. It’s less stressful.”

“I’ll have Zander send you his analysis of the GenDef embezzlement and how the funds were being shunted through Jesus World. That ought to give them a bone to gnaw on while Magda struts her stuff. Best not to discuss more on the phone. Come home and Graham will find the bugs and send your Brits whatever makes him happy. Keep remembering that once we have our finances straightened out, you won’t have to work for them if you don’t want to. That might throw them into a bit of a tizzy.”

I could almost hear him smile. “I like that, a gentleman of leisure condescending to give them the time of day out of loyalty to the Crown. It’s flunkydom to which I object. Power, I can handle.”

I snorted inelegantly. That was so Nick—Queen of the World. “I’m heading into the Metro. See you at dinner?”

He agreed and signed off. I checked my watch. I’d left EG happily working with Julie on video footage, so she should be well occupied for the moment. If Nick went to the house for dinner, I could take as long as I needed. Rush hour to Alexandria was not a good commute by rail or car.

I caught my Uber lift from the Metro station to the Reverend William Arden’s spacious home and grounds outside Alexandria. An electronic gate blocked the drive. A reporter hanging out on the corner noted the Uber car’s license plate—one of the many reasons I didn’t like limos; their tags can be traced back to the owner. The driver announced my name into the intercom and the gate swung open.

I gave the Uber driver a tip and told him that, if anyone asked him, I was the good reverend’s substitute nurse. The driver grinned and pocketed the extra cash. Since the Uber website specified that customers needn’t tip, he probably didn’t see a lot of cash coming his way. I expected he’d be happy to oblige.

Normally, I’d wear full-dress business camouflage at an interview with a stranger, but I was a little shocked by Julie’s observation of my chameleon habits. I had decided to stay truer to myself while still being respectful of an elder and a friend of Graham’s. I wore comfortable leggings, a long sweater, and my leopard boots. I could pass as a home nurse.

A slight, gray-haired woman in tailored tweed and sturdy shoes answered the door. I introduced myself, and she led the way to a dark, paneled den. I admired the overflowing wall-to-wall bookshelves, but the light was too dim to discern titles.

Arden rose from behind his desk. I’d done my research and knew he was in his eighties and had been physically frail these past years. But he retained a full head of silver hair, a craggy jaw cut much like his son’s, and a towering height that even now, reduced to skeletal, seemed powerful.

“Magda’s daughter,” he said in amazement as he studied me. “As I live and breathe, this I never expected. Have a seat. I’ve called for tea and coffee. When Amadeus phoned, I thought he was pulling one over on an old man, but you look just like your parents.”

“Graham respects you too much to lie to you,” I said honestly. “And I’m a little thrilled to meet someone who knew my father. That doesn’t happen often.”

He nodded sadly and sitting down again, folded his gnarled and spotted hands over his royal blue sweater. “Brody Devlin was a brilliant man with a promising future. He could have accomplished so much had he lived. It takes all my faith in God to accept that the good die young for a greater purpose.”

“Well, religion likes its martyrs, I suppose. I can’t say his death and the others with him improved the world in any great way, not if they were about to end the violence.” I didn’t have much patience for making nicey-nice, and I didn’t want to take a lot of his time, so I directed the conversation to my purpose in coming here. “How is your son?” I asked as the housekeeper returned and filled our cups.

“He’s in ICU and they’re keeping him sedated. One bullet grazed his head and caused swelling in his brain. We’re praying for a full recovery.” His sadness was so palpable, the housekeeper patted his shoulder and shot me a nasty look.

He waited until she left before continuing. “You are not here to ask about Josh. Magda told you the true story about your father, did she? It’s not what the world believes.”

“No, Graham told me what little he knows. Magda has been on a vendetta ever since they died. She blamed my grandfather, I believe, and she’s not happy with me for returning to his house. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I’m afraid General Defense may be involved in your son’s shooting. I’m hoping you will trust Graham and me to track down the shooter.”

He looked even sadder as he sipped his coffee. “I warned Josh multiple times that he was in over his head, but he wanted to make a name for himself. He didn’t want to ride on my coat tails, as he put it. He’s a good man, but he’s never had to raise money the way I did. I fear he’s financially naïve. Jesus World was all his own idea, a means to finance his school building projects.”

“Just buying the park land would have cost heaven and earth. He needed wealthy supporters,” I said without inflection, sipping my tea—an excellent Darjeeling.

“His mother left him much of that property. He has ardent supporters who helped with the planning and fundraising. Joshua is dedicated to his cause, to both the school program and the park.” The wily fox waited to see how much I knew.

“Your son publicly supports Paul Rose’s candidacy for president, and Paul Rose’s confederates financially support your son’s projects in return. I am not my parents’ daughter for nothing—I understand what happens behind the scenes. From the looks of it, the embezzler at General Defense ran his ill-gotten gains through your son’s foundation. I would like to believe your son knew nothing of this. Perhaps he found out and is in a position to testify?” I suggested.

The old man’s face collapsed in a waterfall of wrinkles as he rested his chin on his chest. “He swore to me that he knew nothing of the embezzlement from GenDef, but he admitted he left the financials to others. His interest was in fundraising and overseeing the park. I believe him. He isn’t a political creature. He accepts people at face value. I wouldn’t trust GenDef’s management, but Josh has no reason to question them. They don’t hate him as they do me.”

“I want to believe that for my sister’s sake. Juliana admires your son and is devoted to the school program. She’s been taking classes and helping out at the park, but there are activities there that even caused her to doubt. Like your son, she takes people at face value, so if she dared to question those activities. . .”

“Perhaps Josh did too, you’re asking? It’s possible. He wouldn’t have confided in me, if he did. Father-son rivalry is never pretty, and he would hate to admit that he had been wrong. So if you’re hoping I can lead you in the right direction, you’ll have to return to Amadeus empty-handed.”

I rubbed my brow and sought a new direction—missing students. “Did he ever mention anything of the concert tickets and parties his students attended? I believe the tickets were provided by some of the park’s sponsors.”

The good reverend frowned. “He mentioned that the foundation was often given concert tickets, and the students enjoyed rubbing elbows with the sponsors. Part of the school training is about fundraising, so I assume learning to visit with the wealthy was part of his program. But I would be wary of anything voluntarily given by some of his corporate sponsors. They are wicked men of Mammon, not of God.”

Well, now I knew where Magda had come up with the reference to Mammon.

“Anyone you specifically consider wicked? Embezzlement and shooting cover a lot of territory.”

He narrowed his eyes, presumably in thought. “I am not close to the park project and don’t know all the names involved. But some of Rose’s close friends have been mentioned, and I wouldn’t trust most of them. George Paycock from GenDef, of course, was on the board. He’s been known as a womanizer for years and now he’s been accused of embezzling. Tony Jeffery, George’s boss, actually seems to be a decent fellow, though. I believe I heard Tony’s daughter Laura might take George’s place. Ed Parker is still on the board, I believe, but I’ve never heard anything untoward of him. He fancies himself an intellectual, but that doesn’t make him wicked. I wouldn’t suspect him of hurting anyone and certainly not Josh.”

I wished I dared record this, but I didn’t want to interrupt his ruminations.

“The others, well—Archie Broderick was on the park board. I would be suspicious of anything he did, but since his media corporation collapsed, I haven’t heard any scandal about him. Goldrich, from the mortgage company, has always been slime. I wouldn’t trust him with my piggy bank. Neil Hammond, from Hammond oil, has been going through a messy divorce. I wouldn’t trust him with my daughter, if I had one, but he doesn’t need money. If it helps, I’ll try to think of others involved in the project.”

I nodded, not giving away that I’d had anything to do with the demise of several of those greedmeister careers. “Please, if you would. I think I know most of the names, but it wouldn’t hurt to compare. Did Josh ever mention drop-outs from his program?” I asked, digging desperately to the bottom of my list of questions.

“Not that I’m aware of, but drop-outs are hardly unusual. Most of the students are young and don’t know what they wish to make of their lives yet. Dedicating their lives to helping others is not always a gratifying path, as Amadeus learned the hard way. What is he doing now? I was told he was dead until he called and reassured me otherwise.”

Fair was fair. I gave him a carefully edited version of Graham’s successful security business without explaining that he was hiding in our attic using a dead man’s name.

“And your mother?” he asked when I finished. “You said she was on a vendetta. Does she still believe in her conspiracy theory about your father’s death?”

“As far as I’m aware, evil finds evil, so there will always be connections that invite conspiracy theories. Whether there is any actual purpose or intelligent thought behind those connections is a matter of opinion. Magda doesn’t confide in me. You might be interested to know that another of her daughters is currently dating Sean O’Herlihy, son of another of my father’s friends. It’s a small world.”

He almost smiled. “It’s good to know the world goes on despite the devastation we inflict upon it. Shall I give your name to the hospital as someone allowed to visit Josh when he awakens?”

Do boll weevils love cotton? I tried not to display my eagerness when I nodded. “Graham would appreciate that.” I had saved my warning for last, hoping not to alarm a frail old man, but he seemed to still be a tough buzzard, so I added, “He also told me to tell you that it would be best to station guards at your son’s door. If Joshua knows something worth being killed for, there’s likely to be another attempt. Graham can provide the guards, if you like.”

I threw in that last on my own. I hated to worry the old man who had been so kind, if not helpful. Graham could suck it up.

Reverend Arden closed his eyes as if in prayer, then nodded reluctantly. “Yes, I think that would be best. I know police are stationed there now, but one never knows. . . .”

“Exactly. One never knows. I’ll tell Graham to increase the security. Please, let us know if you hear anything, and I mean anything, that might help us get to the bottom of this. I believe my grandfather would have wanted us to help.”

An old-fashioned gentleman, he rose when I did, holding out his hand to take the card I offered. “Max would have had his hand in the pie, one way or another. He was a man of Mammon, also, craving riches, so we did not always agree. Still, after Magda’s departure, I believe he learned wealth was not everything. He told me shortly before his death that he was shedding his investments in the weapon industry.”

Pow, socked in the jaw with still another reason why Max might have died, but the reverend didn’t need to know that, and I didn’t want to invite Magda’s conspiracy theories. We made our farewells, and I called for my Uber car as the housekeeper led me to the door. As we waited, I impulsively handed the woman my card. “If the reverend needs anything, let us know. His family and mine are old friends, and we need to look out for each other in these desperate times.”

I gave her one of my real cards, with my real name. She glanced down and smiled when she read it. “Brody’s daughter? Your parents were frequent visitors long, long ago. I think Josh may have had a crush on your mother at one time.”

I almost sank through the floor and simply nodded dumbly as the same car that had brought me here blew its horn in the drive. Learning the past had a twisted way of affecting the present.

The football hero reverend and my cynical, devious mother? The mind boggled.