Drayco had no sooner entered his townhome that he realized, yet again, he wasn’t alone. Might as well ditch the security system. Not Brock or Darcie this time, but Iago again, sitting in Drayco’s den. He’d helped himself to a beer.
“You must tell me which decryption device you’re using, Pryce. I think I should buy stock in the company.”
Iago just smiled and tipped the beer up in salute. “Congratulations, by the way. Edwin Zamorra, eh? Mean’s Maura’s getting closer to a release.”
Drayco planted himself in front of Iago. “Tell your employer he may be celebrating too soon. Edwin’s arrest doesn’t mean she wasn’t involved in his scheme or with Jerold’s murder.”
Truth be told, Drayco was close to believing Maura had schemes going with both Zamorra brothers. The thought wasn’t helping his mood. Nor was this approach of Iago and Brisbane, using him to play the system.
“Look, Pryce, you were Maura’s ‘handler’ and the one tasked with helping clean up after her. You should know if she’s involved with the Zamorra boys or not. Tell me what you know. It will save us all a lot of time, money, and antagonizing innocent people.”
“You’re right. I’d know if she was working with Edwin Zamorra. She’s not.”
“But you admit she was Jerold’s partner, the same Jerold who’s six feet under. Why didn’t you tell me about the lottery scam they had going?”
Iago uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. “The police know about that?”
Bingo. Finally, a crack in the wall. “After I told them to look into it, yes. Come on, you knew we’d find out.” He paused. “Unless that’s the tip of a pyramid buried in layers of dirt.”
Iago ran his hand over his face. “You didn’t get a chance to know her. It’s not her fault she sprang from a rootless family tree. You don’t see her when she’s laughing at my bad puns, crying at old romance movies, sitting with Alistair during radiation treatments. Her work isn’t who she is.”
Drayco bit back a retort that confidence games didn’t qualify as work. “If you knew about her lottery schemes or other cons, that means Brisbane knew. Why didn’t he put a stop to it?”
“Who says he didn’t?” The corners of Iago’s mouth turned up briefly, which was the closest he’d come to a smile.
Drayco was getting pretty damned tired of the Escher-esque twisted head games from Iago and Brisbane. “Look, I’m going to see this through to the end, even if it means finding out Maura killed Jerold. That won’t make you or your employer happy, but I will know the truth.”
“You mean, you have to punish her for what she did. For abandoning you, is that it?” Iago drained the last of his beer and got up to head toward the door. “You know,” he said, with one hand on the door knob, “family is what we make it. You should remember that.”
§ § §
Drayco didn’t have long to think about Iago or his words because the appointed time had arrived for his video conference with Brody. For a moment, he thought his internet connection was on the fritz, but then he realized he’d shut off the router. He rubbed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, then established the connection.
Brody yawned in greeting, apologized, then grabbed a mug of steaming coffee next to his monitor to take a few swigs. “We gotta stop gaitherin’ like this, Scott. Maybe next time, we can schedule our wee dates a bit earlier in my day?”
“Sure thing, Brody. I’ll send you a case of hamburgers as penance.”
Brody brightened. “You can order those through the post?”
“Not prepared, usually. But I’ll see what I can do.”
“Make sure they have those little fried onions and tomato ketchup and mustard.”
Drayco grinned. The Church of the Golden Arches had claimed another acolyte for its choir. “Deal. What else do you have for me tonight besides brogues and burgers?”
“Brogue? I’ll have you know this is the way real people talk. It’s you who talks funny, my frien.’ But all kidding aside, I might have a bit of good news for you.”
“Good is good. What did you find?”
“It’s about Dugald Iverson, your mother’s ex. Turns out he tweren’t no saint. A long record of naughty behavior.”
“How naughty?”
“Drunk and disorderly assault, for starters. But that would describe half the male population. No, his little misdeeds went way beyond that. He was charged with a couple cases of violent rape. He liked to burn his victims, leave little ‘reminders’ of his handiwork. But his uncle was a constable, so surprise, surprise, little Duggie always got off on technicalities.”
“The killing may have been self-defense?”
“Regardless of who did it, seems likely, aye. Or the family of one of his victims getting revenge.”
“And Maura?”
“As I mentioned last time, a couple of neighbors speculated she was Dugald’s killer. But that’s only on account they knew the two had been dating. They didn’t have any proof, mind you.”
“But she disappeared around that same time.”
“Aye, there is that. Hardly damning, though. And certainly not proof. If every soul who moved to the States from the Isles were murderers, you’d be in deep trouble, laddie.”
Drayco pictured the teenage Maura with nowhere to turn. No one would believe a gypsy of killing a constable’s relative in self-defense. The perfect recipe for disappearing. “No one was ever charged with Dugald’s death?”
“No, and Uncle Constable died not long after. I did track down one fellow from Dugald’s former haunts. An old timer who seemed to have a pretty good memory, all the same. He said, and I quote, ‘ the world was better off without Dugald in it.’ And that he probably deserved his fate.”
“Did Alistair Brisbane’s name come out in any of this?”
“Now that one is interesting, I must say. It’s as if he never existed. Oh, there’s a record of his birth, to be sure. But not much else. Don’t know if he purposely made himself invisible early on or cleaned up his records after the fact. Either way, he’s a bogie. At least, until he reappeared on your side of the Pond.”
“He’s pretty much a bogie over here, too.”
A stack of music CD’s next to Drayco’s computer caught his eye. He picked one up and turned it over in his hand. “I wonder—with all of Maura’s traveling around and dodging the law, how did she learn to play the piano?”
Brody’s voice perked up for the first time. “That’s an easier one. One of those neighbors of Dugald’s knew the vicar in a nearby parish. The vicar’s wife took pity on young Maura and gave her lessons when she was in town. Said she was a natural.”
Drayco thanked Brody for his sacrifice of losing sleep and made a note to look up hamburger delivery services in Scotland.
So, his mother might have killed a man, and it might have been justifiable homicide. Had lightning struck twice with Jerold? He pushed aside any thoughts of his own self-defense case before the review board. His impartiality was already being pushed to the limit. Maybe Benny was right—his ability to be objective was “manure.”
With a sigh, he called Sarg to fill him in on Brody’s news, making sure to emphasize the self-defense part. He couldn’t keep it a secret much longer, anyway. Not with an ex-Interpol agent knowing the truth.
After hanging up with Sarg, he thought about heading to the piano but didn’t. Why bother? He’d just end up using it as a pillow again. Maybe a little boob tube, instead. He settled back on the couch and flipped through the channels, but nothing caught his eye until he stopped on a movie network. Braveheart.
He leaned back and started watching. Maybe connecting with his Scottish roots—Hollywood style—would do the trick. But twenty minutes in, the overwhelming curtain of fatigue fell over him, and he gave up.