And there it was, the ugly face of greed and anger. “I gather from your reaction you didn’t find out about the will until recently?”
She balled her fists at her sides, making George worry for a moment that she would attempt to punch him. “He named Jake Dyson the executor of his will, and that old son of a bitch enjoyed telling me how most of the money, myfamily’s money, is going into a fucking trust for underprivileged children.Afteryou were gone the last time, that sniveling, slimy asshole had the gall to sit there and patronize me about how to handle the police, and then he advised me to get legal counsel because Portius, Dyson & Partners wouldn’t be representing me anymore. But the last word hasn’t been spoken!”
Suddenly, Dyson’s twitchiness during their last visit made sense. The man had been waiting to dump Tamara like a share that had gone bad. Why she would agree to see them without new counsel was beyond George, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It could very well be she was simply fighting on too many fronts to think about such comparatively small fish like having the police in her home without a lawyer present.
“Your husband was a lawyer. I can’t see how you think you could stand a chance fighting his will.” George was goading her on purpose, hoping to get her riled up even more. Any information they were getting now was true. When they were angry, most people forgot to lie, and without legal counsel present to stop her, the chances of Tamara slipping up were rising.
The vicious smile appearing on Tamara Portius’s face made George shiver. “Yes, he was a lawyer, and he thought himself the smartest motherfucker walking this planet.”
Anger also made people forget their manners and language, George noted.
“But I’m not just a pretty face taking care of our social standing. When we married, he signed a legally binding contract stating that he got more than two-thirds of our starting capital from my father and that, should he die before me, two-thirds of everything we have acquired would go back to me. As soon as I find that contract, the will is worthless.”
“What makes you think he didn’t destroy it? Since you can’t find it, I mean.” Andi’s voice was dismissive, as if he didn’t care either way. Which he probably didn’t.
“Oh, he definitely destroyed the original. It wasn’t in its place.” Tamara looked ready to breathe fire. “But I made copies of every single document concerning our marriage and me. I had them notarized and kept them hidden from him. Unfortunately, the hiding spot was—untidy. It’s just a matter of time until I find it, though.” She was calming down, a sign that she was sure she would be finding the document in question.
“Do you know if your son has any contact with Dominic McHill and Lester Miller?” George asked out of the blue. He figured he had exhausted the topic of the will. Tamara wasn’t as startled by this abrupt change of gears as George had hoped.
“No, I don’t know. I rarely talk to my son these days.” She shrugged dismissively, as if not having contact with one’s own son wasn’t worth mentioning.
“Can you tell us about the fallout your son had with his father?” Andi followed George’s vein of questioning. This got a reaction out of Tamara Portius. She shut down like a clam.
“It was a father-son thing. They had some—disagreements over certain things.”
“Could you be a bit more concrete perhaps? In case you haven’t noticed, this is a murder investigation, and not answering our questions could mean the killer will walk free,” George reminded her in a stern tone. He was done being polite.
Tamara Portius tried to make a face as far as the Botox allowed, conveying without words how little she cared about finding her husband’s killer. She answered nevertheless, apparently not concerned about telling them anything they shouldn’t know. She was either truly innocent or damn sure she wouldn’t be caught. “My son and husband argued about my son’s duties toward him. It got ugly, words were said, my husband decided to show my son who was in charge. My son didn’t like it. End of story.”
“Thank you.” George wanted to bet his salary this wasn’t all there was to it, but for the moment, it was enough to work with.
After a brief goodbye, he and Andi left the Portius mansion. On their way back, they stopped at Theodora Miller’s and Sophia McHill’s homes, asking them the same question and getting equally evasive answers. Theodora had the most plausible, stating that she and her stepson had never been close, and neither did she know nor care what he was up to. When his father cut him out, it technically meant more money for her, so she didn’t argue. Sophia McHill referred them to her lawyer, Hilda Doran, who stated that Sophia’s son and her husband had a big fight about what was expected from Dominic. Sophia did her best to stay out of it, and with Harry Alexander McHill’s history of violence, George could understand.
“We’re sure the sons did something the fathers had to cover up, aren’t we?” He glanced at Andi while he was waiting at a red light. His partner furrowed his brows.
“We are. It can’t be coincidence that they all fell from grace at the same time. What I wonder is if the wives really don’t know or if there’s something they’re not telling us.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s a lot they’re not telling us. But I believe them when it comes to this.” George focused back on his driving when the light turned green. “First of all, none of them is stupid. They have to know we’re asking each of them, and since we’re operating under the assumption that they’re not friends with close contact, they can’t know if one of them isn’t going to spill the beans. Second, each of them has good reason not to be interested. Theodora is just the stepmother, and she married Lawrence Miller when Lester was already in his first year in college. I bet she barely knows what he looks like. I also have the impression that Sophia McHill tried everything to stay out of her husband’s way. I can’t see her taking an interest in something that could potentially attract her husband’s focus back to her, especially when she wasn’t close to her son. As for Tamara, she’s so full of open hatred, I can see her enjoying her husband’s anger over something he couldn’t control.”
Andi sighed. “I agree. None of them is the motherly type. I can’t imagine any of them defending her offspring like some mothers would. My impression was that having a child was something that’s expected in their circles, and once they had ticked that particular box, they went on with their lives. What has whatever the sons did to do with their fathers’ deaths, though?”
“You don’t think there’s a connection?”
“To be honest, I think these men were such scumbags we’re going to find a lot of connections the longer we dig. This whole case is like a spiderweb with the victims at the center. And all the lines are intertwined somehow. We just have to find out where.” Andi blew air upward, letting his bangs flutter. It did look kind of cute, even if applying that word to Andi felt wrong on so many levels.
“They certainly weren’t the kind of people I would have chosen to surround myself with.”
“No, definitely not. With cases like this, I sometimes wonder why I even bother solving them. The way I see it, those three men got what they deserved.”
George swallowed hard. He had always known he and Andi had differing opinions on law enforcement and justice in general, but they were usually good at skirting the loaded parts. It seemed Andi had just opened one of them up for discussion. George would have preferred not to talk about this to keep the peace. He wasn’t somebody who backed down from an argument, though, and he knew Andi wouldn’t want that. He just wasn’t sure if this was the time and place for it.
“You mean being drugged out of their minds, then led into a lake and left to drown?”
From the corner of his eye, George saw Andi glancing at him. “Do I detect a certain amount of sarcasm here?”
“You do. Listen, Andi, I totally get why you’re feeling the way you’re feeling. Every cop gets there at some point. What we can never forget, though, is that we’re not judges. We’re the ones who find the culprits so judges and juries can speak their verdict. There’s a very good reason for division of power, and you know it.”
“Spare me the police academy talk. I’ve been there, same as you. And same as you, I’ve learned the hard way how unjust justice can be.” Andi wasn’t quite yelling yet; his voice was still calm, but there was an undertone of steel creeping into his words. Just enough to get George’s hackles up as well. This case was drawing out, they had too many suspects, he was worried about Andi, his own career, the way he was getting more and more attached to his grumpy partner, and he was also tired. Not the best premise for an in-depth discussion of such a loaded topic.
