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8:45 a.m. Sunday, August 30th, 1992
SAM knocked on Quill’s door, then glanced over at Turner waiting beside her in the hall. She knocked again, then stepped back as the door swung open to reveal Quill standing there and frowning at her.
“Yes? What do you want?”
She smiled at him, and he clearly didn’t like it. “Oh, no, not me. Padget just sent me to tell you the lawyer, Mr. Dobson, wants to see you in the study.”
His eyes drifted past her and stared at Turner. “Do you know what this is about?”
Turner smiled too, casually, and shrugged. “It would be company business on behalf of the estate, and we’d better wait to discuss it.”
Sam wasn’t looking at him, but she could sense him jerking his head in her direction. The two men wouldn’t want to discuss important business when she was listening. She played along with it because it kept Quill from asking a lot of questions.
With a snort, Quill stomped out into the corridor, closing and locking his door behind him before turning to glare at her again. Then he ignored her, which was just as well as far as she was concerned, and complained to Turner. “Is the whole house going to come to this conference?”
Turner shook his head. “None of the family will be there. There are some things that need to be settled without involving them.”
He started walking away, heading for the main staircase, and Quill stalked after him, talking to his back. “Good. Not one of them knows a thing about the business, which is why I suppose Brandt didn’t leave them control of the corporation. It will be up to the three of us who understand how things work to make the decisions.”
Sam trailed after the two men, amused by how easily Quill assumed that Turner and Dobson wanted his counsel. Since her plan relied on leading the man into a number of wrong assumptions, it was off to a good start, but to pull it off would require multiple people playing their part. Unfortunately, one of those would be Dobson.
Turner and Quill descended the steps together and crossed the foyer and walked down the hallway to the study, with Sam following along behind. But when Turner opened the door and waved Quill into the room, he then moved to block her way.
“You shouldn’t be here for this.”
She wasn’t sure if that was part of the act or an attempt to keep her out of the action. It wasn’t as if there was likely to be any danger, and even if there were, Sam was running this show. So she glared at him until he moved out of her way.
Quill was standing in the middle of the study—he scowled as his eyes roved around the room from Turner on his left to Dobson sitting in the chair behind the desk to Padget and Bailey on his right and then back again to the lawyer, who probably looked a little unnatural with his arms reaching around the back of the chair.
Sam closed the door with a thud and got Quill’s attention. He watched her walk up to stand behind him and squinted at her before returning his attention to Dobson. “Ridiculous. I came here for a confidential business conference.” He must’ve realized by this point that something was wrong.
The lawyer was the first to speak. He shrugged slightly. “I’m afraid I’m tied to this chair, Mr. Quill, or I would like to shake your hand. I hadn’t pegged you for Brandt Keener’s killer.”
Quill jerked his head in denial. “Nonsense. I’m not going to stand here and listen to an unfounded accusation. And what do you mean—you’re tied to your chair?”
It wasn’t Dobson who answered him. Speaking to Quill’s back, Sam set him straight. “You are going to listen whether you want to or not. But if you wish, you can sit down while you do. We won’t subject you to the indignity of tying you up, though. It was necessary to restrain Dobson until the authorities arrive, because he strangled Talia and he’s dangerous. But I don’t think you’re a violent man, not in that way. And I advise you to pay close attention to what we’re going to say, because your life will depend upon the choices you’re about to make.”
As she’d spoken, the man had glared around at everyone else before he finally turned to grimace at her. “My life? And who are you to make threats or accusations against me? You wouldn’t dare.”
She ignored that. “You see, Mr. Dobson played a little trick on us.” Us in the wider sense. “But he has Brandt’s body and the evidence that proves the man was murdered, poisoned with potassium cyanide. And I searched your room.” Here was where she bluffed. “Will an analysis of what I found show you’ve had a secret stash of cyanide in your possession?” He wasn’t to know she hadn’t found a thing or taken any samples.
“I don’t know what you’ve planted in my room, but I doubt the police will find you very credible.”
Dobson interrupted with a chuckle. “As it happens, these three ‘staff’ are nothing of the sort. Rather, they’re all undercover law enforcement of one kind or another. You can still accuse them of planting evidence, however, if you get a good lawyer.”
Quill turned around again and faced the lawyer. “Don’t tell me you believe all this?”
Shrugging as far as his restraints allowed, Dobson then cocked his head to peer closely at Quill. “I rather think I do credit the case they have made for you as Keener’s killer.”
Sam picked up from there. “And his opinion is what really matters, you see. He’s been in the business of putting out contracts on his clients’ behalf—after they’ve died—putting a price on the head of an enemy, a rival, or anyone they wanted to have killed when they were gone themselves.”
The wheels began turning behind Quill’s eyes—he looked over his shoulder at Dobson and saw the lawyer nod. Sam continued when he was looking at her again. She had his full attention now.
“Brandt Keener was afraid someone would kill him, but he didn’t know who might do it—too many people wanted him dead. So he made his arrangements with Dobson, to put out a hit on his murderer. To make a long story short—” And to cover up a few inconvenient issues, such as the fact that Dobson hadn’t actually taken out the contract and probably wouldn’t be able to do so now. “I imagine if, or should I say when, Dobson gets word out you murdered Brandt, assassins all over the world will want to get their hands on the money Keener set aside to get his revenge. Apparently it’s a huge sum.”
Quill snorted. “That’s the short version? Why would I believe such an absurd tale?”
The lawyer chimed in again. “Absurd? I made quite a lot just in commissions for arranging those contracts. And the amount Brandt offered to eliminate his killer is so much I was willing to take risks to do the deed myself and earn that fee. Especially since I was going to be spending the weekend here, with all the best suspects and plenty of opportunity to get rid of them. That’s why I killed Talia.”
“You thought she’d murdered Brandt? And not just him but Oak, too?”
“I was leaning toward Oak as the murderer and looking for the opportunity to eliminate him when you saved me the trouble—though I hadn’t known it was you. I didn’t believe the person who had killed Keener would kill himself, but Oak had enough reason to commit suicide regardless. I decided on the maid as the next most likely murderer, but I would have gotten rid of Elaine too. Just to be on the safe side.”
Quill turned briefly back to the lawyer and narrowed his eyes at the man. “I think you’re a fool to be jabbering away like this.” Then he returned the glare to Sam. “You won’t catch me saying anything to implicate myself, and I don’t think you have any case without a confession. Not enough evidence to convince a prosecutor to bring charges, not against someone of my standing.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Maybe not, but you can see that we’ve convinced Dobson. And while he can’t earn the fee himself now, he has an obligation to his client to try to see his request for revenge fulfilled. Or so he says. So we come back to the question of the choice you have to make. Yes, you could keep silent and hope there’s not enough evidence to put you in jail—and spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder with a price on your head—or you could confess and be protected in prison.”
“Not much of a choice, is it?” Grinding his jaw, he glanced back at Dobson, who leaned back in the chair with a complacent look on his face.
“Cooperating can be quite helpful, dear fellow. That and a good lawyer can get you a great deal. A nice, comfortable minimum-security prison, for example.”
Padget stepped forward and flashed his credentials. It was time for the carrot. “I understand you uncovered Oak’s embezzlement?”
Quill’s nod was hesitant—the man was clearly wary of admitting anything. “There’s nothing criminal in investigating a crime. And I’ve already sent the evidence of Oak’s malfeasance to the Bureau.”
“I have a hunch he stole those funds from what he was helping Keener hide from the government.” At Quill’s even more cautious nod, the federal agent continued. “Treasury is very interested in tracking down any assets Keener may have stashed away. If you could help us, we have the influence to get you a very good deal with the prosecutor.”
Surprisingly, it was at that point Quill’s shoulders suddenly sagged, and he looked around before sinking into one of the wide armchairs arrayed facing the desk. He sent a short, hostile frown at Sam, then focused on the federal agent. “For two first degree homicides?”
Padget nodded. “I doubt those would end up as the actual charges—if you cooperate. The murders of two men don’t matter so much to the federal government as the money.”
“You I can deal with.”
“But you’ll have to be fully forthcoming with me here and now. Why did you kill Keener and Oak?”
Quill glanced over at Dobson. “This is dependable, this deal?” At the lawyer’s nod, he worked his jaw. “Alright, then, and you’re a witness to what he just promised.”
Padget sat down in a chair facing Quill, but Bailey stayed standing and alert. “Start with Keener.”
Quill nodded wearily. “He suspected Oak, and he’d had me going through everything the man had been doing for him with a fine-tooth comb. Brandt had become unhinged and was desperate to get leverage over everyone he knew. I didn’t have a problem helping him destroy Oak, but I figured it might only be a matter of time before he got to me.”
“He already had your ‘incompetence’—that was in his will.”
“The ‘incompetence’ was only a cover, one that would’ve been good enough, but then Brandt began looking under every rock, and I was worried that he could eventually find out what I’d done.”
Padget leaned forward with keen interest. “But what was there to find?”
The corners of Quill’s mouth lifted in the nearest Sam had seen him come to smiling. “When the company was young and I was the one in charge of taking care of the corporate income taxes, we were doing a lot of research and spending a lot of money on it. Virtually all of which was deductible as a tax credit, but I didn’t take it. My ‘incompetence’.”
“I’m surprised you weren’t fired for that, when they found out. And they did find out, didn’t they?”
“Certainly. I wanted them to. You see, I’d filed amended returns to claim those credits, lost all the paperwork, and then diverted the refunds. Put the money into a separate corporate account I’d established off shore. If anyone had discovered what I’d done, all I had to do was produce the proper paperwork from where it had been mislaid, and it would look as if the money still belonged to the company. Because it did.”
The Treasury agent nodded in appreciation. “I can imagine why they wouldn’t spot it, though.”
Quill bared his teeth. “Exactly. It would’ve required the corporation and the IRS being open and honest with each other for anybody to realize what I’d done. Or a really thorough audit. But back then Brandt was a lot more trusting, and no one noticed what had happened. After a few years had gone by, I felt fairly safe and simply transferred those funds from the corporate account to one of my own, where they have been busy compounding interest for over two decades.”
“Quite a nest egg. And you’d gotten away with it—even if they’d fired you for incompetence, you’d have been sitting pretty, since they obviously never realized what you’d really done. But Brandt didn’t dismiss you from the company?”
“No, he wasn’t only more trusting back then, he was forgiving. I said I was sorry. Swore I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. And he gave me another chance, and I quit while I was ahead.”
Padget nodded. “Quit stealing, you mean. You had gotten away with quite a lot of loot, and weren’t going to keep taking risks. Not many people could stop themselves after they’d once been successful.”
Quill bowed his head to acknowledge the compliment. “There was no need to take further risks.”
While this discourse was clearly fascinating the federal agent, Sam was feeling frustrated. But Bailey must have realized the conversation was getting away from what she wanted to hear about, because he interjected. “Until Brandt became paranoid and began digging deep. Then you took another risk.”
“Yes. Even then I waited. I wanted to collect all the evidence Brandt needed to reduce Oak to rubble first. As soon as I had, I started looking for a good opportunity to get rid of him before he got anything on me. And I did.”
“But you’d already been part of Oak’s undoing. Why did you kill him?”
“I didn’t want to, believe me. Watching him as he suffered through an investigation and a trial, losing everything, that would’ve been much more gratifying. But he felt he had nothing left to lose. So he was going to go after me in the same way he felt I’d gone after him. He came to my room that evening, with a bottle of very fine Scotch, claiming he wanted to make up for how he’d spoken to me earlier, at the reading of the will.”
Bailey cocked his head. “Sounds nice of him.”
Quill harrumphed. “He only wanted to get me alone so he could threaten me without witnesses. I should’ve known. He said he was going to dig into everything I’d ever done until he found something, anything that would bring me down too, and I knew he would. And he laughed that whatever he discovered would help him make a deal for himself. I had to kill the man, you see. In case he might be able to make good on his threat.”
The lawyer chose that moment to speak again. “You made the right choice, talking, making a deal. I think we’ll both come out of this alright.”
The soon-to-be ex chief financial officer turned his head and summoned the energy to glare at Dobson. “You didn’t leave me with much choice.”
The lawyer smiled. “Not any good options, for sure, but then they didn’t leave me a lot of alternatives either, but I’ll make the best of a bad break.”
Sam wondered what would really happen to either man. Would one or both of them go to prison? For how long? Was Dobson still going to try to put out a hit on Quill, and would he be able to? None of that was her concern, though—it was up to the contemporary authorities to deal with. She and Bailey had exposed the truth. Their work was done.