thirty-nine

“She was born Elva Karen Schaeffer in 1966 in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her son Adam was born out of wedlock when she was just fifteen. He was four years old when she married Terrence Ward, so for all intents and purposes, he considered that man his true father.” David and I were seated in hard wooden chairs across the desk from Sergeant Sullivan on the second floor of the Hall of Justice. A few days had elapsed since the capture of Karen and Adam and the attempted murder of Suzanne Simms, not to mention of yours truly. The fire department had arrived in time and quickly doused the blaze on the 40th floor. But it would be a good while till the damage was repaired and Meyers, Dade & Schulz returned to normal. Sergio was doing well apart from a fractured jaw and concussion. He was set to be released from the hospital soon, although he’d be taking nutrients through a straw for several weeks. Suzanne had revived and was in good shape. Adam and his mother had been arrested on the spot.

“How did she become Karen Jansen?” I asked.

“She changed it legally three years ago, after her husband’s suicide,” Sullivan replied. “Jansen was her mother’s maiden name, and she used her own middle name for her new first name. The two of them have been planning this for a long time. Schaefer always went by his birth name, his mother’s maiden name. He’d already established himself as a private investigator even before the Bank of San Francisco fire, so that part of their plan was already in place. He wangled a spot with Sinclair Investigations, which is an old, established firm. When Karen discovered the Meyers firm used Sinclair to run their background checks on employees, it was a gift.”

“But how could they be sure Adam would be the one to be assigned to the Evolving Soul Meyers firm after the first murder?”

“They chose their timing carefully. It’s not that large an organization. The CEO of the agency, Bill Sinclair, is on an extended vacation in the far east. Two people were down with the flu, one investigator was in the hospital having surgery, and the remaining two operatives were up to their eyeballs in assignments. That’s when Karen made her move and killed Jack. Schaefer wanted to be on the scene at all times. He wanted to know everything that was going on at the firm, but frankly, they could still have carried out their plan even if he hadn’t been.” Sullivan turned to me. “If you hadn’t gone back to the firm that night …” He trailed off. “I hate to admit this, but they damn near got away with it. Killing Ms. Simms was their final goal. We had no forensic evidence at all. Everyone’s prints are all over the place. No way to tell who touched or did what. Literally anyone could have gotten to Jack Harding and Ira Walstone in that building.”

“What happens now?” David asked. He was subdued but still looked ten times better than when I’d visited him at the hospital.

“I’m certain they’ll be held without bail. Who knows if the judge will decide on the death penalty.”

I gasped involuntarily. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

Sullivan shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, false imprisonment, conspiracy to commit murder. They’ll get the book thrown at them.”

“Wasn’t the death penalty ruled unconstitutional?” I asked.

“Well, it’s complicated. Capital punishment’s been in use in California since the 1700s, believe it or not. Even though the Supreme Court finally declared it unconstitutional, a new law reinstituted it. Lots of death sentences have been handed down, but as of last count, I think only about thirteen executions have actually taken place. Last one was in 2006.”

“He’s right, Julia,” David offered.

“But wasn’t there a movement to end it again?”

“Prop 34 would have done away with it and replaced it with life imprisonment, but that was voted down by a slim margin. Every election cycle it seems there’s another effort to do away with it, but in this case it’ll be up to a judge and a jury.”

David shot a sideways look at me. He was aware I’d been attracted to Adam but had held his tongue. I didn’t turn my head. I still felt horribly ashamed that I’d allowed Adam into my life in any way. Maybe it wasn’t logical, but it was how I felt.

“We only had Karen’s word that Jack was alive when she left the firm that Sunday,” Sergeant Sullivan went on. “Roger Wilkinson thought he’d seen her leave, but she waited around until after she was sure he’d gone. Poor bastard. Jack Harding would have had no idea what was headed his way. It was Adam who attacked Ira Walstone two nights later.”

I thought of the dinner Adam and I had shared in North Beach that evening. It was unbelievable to think he had committed such an act and then calmly taken the elevator up to David’s office to make dinner plans with us.

“They hadn’t wanted to risk killing Suzanne Simms in the office because it would have pointed us in the direction of Schaeffer,” the sergeant explained. “But they had to wait for an opportune time to get her out.” He shook his head. “A mother-son duo. I gotta say, that’s a new one. Maybe other cops have run into it, but it’s a first for me. She had a hell of a hold on her son. Real sick relationship in my opinion.”

“Adam kept pointing me in the direction of Nora Layton as a suspect. Misdirection, I guess.” I turned to David. “What’s happening with her?”

“I told her not to come back and offered her some severance money. I didn’t want to report her to the Bar Association. I have no hard evidence about the Deklon situation anyway. Just what you’ve told me. But Adam … I never saw it. Never even had an inkling.”

“How could you?” Sullivan answered. “Adam Schaefer was the real deal, a licensed private investigator. A good one from all accounts. Why would you even suspect anything like that?” The sergeant closed the folder on his desk. “Well, that’s it. Hopefully you’ll never have any trouble at your firm again.”