Chapter 19

“Excuse me Mr. Harrison. There are two gentlemen here to see you.” Gladys, the head of the household staff, stood at the door to the library looking in. Harrison glanced up from the couch where he was reading the morning paper. Randall sat at the desk in the library, going through papers.

“Who is it, Gladys?” Harrison asked.

“They say they’re from the FBI.”

“Did they show you some identification?” Harrison asked.

“Yes. But I don’t know if it’s real.”

“Where are they?” Randall asked.

“Waiting on the front porch.”

Randall smiled, finding it amusing that Gladys would not let them in the house.

“Show them in. We’ll meet with them in the library,” Harrison told her. When she left the room, he folded the newspaper and set it on his lap. He looked over to his father.

“What do you suppose this is about?” Harrison asked.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

A few minutes later, Gladys showed the two men into the library. Both Randall and Harrison stood up.

“I’m Agent Carmichael, and this is Agent Stephens,” one of the two men said before he handed Harrison identification. Harrison looked briefly at the identification and then handed it to Randall.

“I’m Harrison Coulson.” Harrison extended his right hand to the man closest to him after Randall returned the identification. The men shook hands.

“This is my father, Randall Coulson.”

Randall stepped forward and shook each man’s hand.

“What is this about?” Randall asked.

Carmichael looked at Harrison. “We’d like to speak to your son.”

“Garret?” Harrison frowned.

“No, Russell,” Carmichael clarified.

“Russell? The boy is six years old. Would you please tell me what this is about?” Harrison asked.

“We’re looking for this man.” Carmichael pulled a small photograph out of his coat pocket and handed it to Harrison. “His name is Anthony Marino. He was staying at the Cliffwood motel, and apparently he had a conversation with your son.”

Harrison took the photo and looked at it for a moment. He said nothing but handed it to his father. Randall glanced at the photograph for a moment, then handed it back to Carmichael.

“Yes, we know who Mr. Marino is,” Randall said.

“Can you tell me what your relationship was with Marino?” Stephens asked.

“I said we know who he is, young man. Not that we have a relationship with him,” Randall said coolly.

Harrison stepped out of the library for a moment and called out to Gladys who was nearby.

“Gladys, please have Russell come to the library.”

“Perhaps there’s someplace we could talk to your son, alone?” Stephens asked.

“No,” Harrison told him. “If you want to talk to him, you can do it here, in my presence. The boy is just six years old.”

Stephens and Carmichael exchanged glances. A few minutes later, Russell walked into the library. He looked curiously at the two strange men but walked straight to his father. Standing by Harrison, he looked up at the men. Harrison placed his hands on Russell’s shoulders.

“Russell, this is Agent Carmichael and Agent Stephens. They have a couple questions to ask you,” Harrison told his son.

Russell looked nervously at the strangers.

“Russell,” Carmichael went down on a bent knee so he could be eye level to the boy. “Do you remember this man?” He showed Russell the photograph of Anthony Marino. Russell gave a little nod. “I understand he gave you a note. . .” Carmichael paused for a moment and glanced up to Harrison. “. . .for your mother. I’d like you to tell me about that note.”

Russell said nothing but looked nervously at his father.

“Russell, it’s okay,” Harrison told his son. “Tell Mr. Carmichael what you know.”

“No. I can’t. It’s a secret, between Mom and me.”

“Where is your wife, Mr. Coulson?” Carmichael glanced up at Harrison.

“She’s out of town. But I’m sure Russell can tell you what you need to know.”

“But Dad… ” Russell protested.

“Russell,” Harrison said sharply. “If your mother was here, she would tell you the same thing. Tell these men what they need to know. We haven’t time to play games.”

Russell was quiet for a few moments before he started to talk. “Mr. Marino said he knew my parents and that my mom was trying to arrange a surprise for my dad. He said he could help. He told me to give the note to my mother, and I was not to say anything to anyone.”

“Do you know what the surprise was?”

“No. Mom said I was to keep the note a secret.”

“Did she say anything else?” Carmichael asked.

“No.” Russell told him.

“Did Mr. Marino tell you anything else… anything that you haven’t told me?”

“No.” Russell glanced up at his father.

“You can go now Russell, run along.” Harrison gave Russell a gentle nudge.

As Russell raced from the library, Harrison walked to his chair he had been sitting at earlier, then turned to face the men.

“Gentlemen, why don’t we sit down so we can be more comfortable while we conclude our conversation,” Harrison said.

A few moments later, Carmichael and Stephens sat side by side on the sofa, while Randall and Harrison sat in the leather chairs facing them.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a relationship with Marino,” Stephens asked Randall after the four men sat down.

“I can explain,” Harrison began. “One night, we were having dinner at the Roseville, a restaurant in town. My father, wife, and eldest son, Harrison Junior. Marino was there, and sent over some champagne to our table.”

“Why would he do that?” Stephens asked.

“I can only presume, to insinuate himself into our company. He came over to our table. We were cordial with the man. Somehow, the conversation came up about men’s jewelry—I can’t recall exactly. It was all very inconsequential at the time. Apparently, Marino felt it was another opportunity to ingratiate himself with us. So he used our son to get a note to Vera, letting her know he had a connection and that if she wanted to surprise me with diamond cufflinks, he could get quality diamonds at a great price. My wife… well, despite the fact she can afford whatever she wants, loves a good deal. She told our son to keep the note secret.”

“She contacted Marino?” Carmichael asked.

“No. I found the note later that same day, and when I realized it was from Marino, I told Vera I didn’t trust the man. I figured, if he had a deal, the diamonds were probably hot. She was horrified and tore up the note. She never contacted him.”

“Do you have the note?” Stephens asked.

“Like I said, she tore it up. It was thrown away.”

“When was the last time you saw Marino?” Stephens asked.

“At the restaurant, when he sent over the champagne,” Harrison explained. “I’m sure the staff over at the Roseville will verify my story.”

“Now I would like to ask a question,” Randall spoke up. “What is this really all about? You’re obviously looking for Marino. Why?”

There was a long pause before Stephens answered Randall’s question.

“There was a contract hit, near Reno, during the first week in November. Authorities in New Jersey have two cold cases—eerily similar to the Reno killing. They always believed Marino was behind the first two but couldn’t prove it. We’re trying to track down Marino so we can talk to him, but he and his car have disappeared. No one has seen him.”

“Pretty obvious to me,” Randall said. “He’s on the run. Not sure why you had to bother a six year old.”

“We’re just trying to track down any lead we can find for some clue to his whereabouts.”

“Well,” Harrison stood up. “We’ll be happy if he doesn’t return to Coulson. But if he does, we’ll contact you immediately. Do you have a card?”

“Well, that was a big waste of time,” Stephens told Carmichael as the two men returned to their car.

“Did you honestly believe a note to a six year old might lead us to Marino?” Carmichael asked as they got into the car.

“You have to admit, it did sound intriguing. A note passed to the Grand Dame of Coulson.” Stephens chuckled as he started the engine.

“Well, it looks as if Marino is on the run,” Carmichael said.

“Funny though, not really his M.O. I would’ve expected him to be waiting at the motel, offering us a cup of coffee while he taunts us and comes up with one of his famous alibis.”

“True. But maybe he’s just screwing with us.”

“You think he’ll return to the Cliffwood?”

“I suppose it’s possible. But no one’s seen his car for a couple weeks, so I imagine he’s miles from here.”