Page 55 of Go Alone

Anita knocked on the door, flanked by the FBI agents. The slats of the window to the left came down, and a moment later, the door opened a crack. A tentative voice asked, “Hello?”

“Kirke Andersen?” Anita asked.

“May I ask what this is about?” the gentleman asked without volunteering his name. Typical lawyer.

“If you’re Kirke Andersen, then you should know that someone killed Martin Cole last night and left a message at the scene identifying you as his next target.”

The man stared at Anita for a moment. Then he looked at Kate, Marcus, and the police officers behind them. "Oh, God," he muttered.

He closed the door. The latch slipped, and the door opened all the way to reveal a short, pudgy man with a weak chin and small brown eyes underneath a shock of brown hair that had the coarse texture of transplanted hair rather than natural.

“Um… Yeah, I’m Kirke Andersen,” he said. “Oh, Jesus Christmas, are you serious about that? A killer’s coming after me?”

“We’re very serious,” Anita said. “We’d like to offer you police protection, and we’d also like to talk to you for a minute to hopefully find out who our killer is and where to find him.”

Kirke hesitated, his lawyer’s instincts no doubt bristling at the notion of inviting law enforcement into his property. Reason took over a moment later, and he nodded and let them in.

His house was decorated with an eclectic mix of unique and expensive knick-knacks that confirmed bachelor's accumulated over the years. The living room was illuminated with a blue neon bar sign depicting a buxom girl whose endowments framed the words AMPLE ALE, underneath which was the tagline enough to satisfy!

Kirke noticed Anita’s gaze, chuckled nervously and pulled a cord to switch the light off. “Um… So Martin Cole’s dead. Wow. That’s um…” He laughed again, swallowed, then tried again with some semblance of control. “I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why you believe me to be in danger? Did the note name me specifically?”

Kate answered that. “It said that Martin and his collaborator conspired to drive a man from his home and that you did so by pretending to covet his wife.”

“Whoa,” Kirke said. “I did not covet Beverly Marsh. Don’t get me wrong; she was beautiful, but…”

He took a deep breath and tried again for control. “Martin Cole hired me to assist in the transfer of a house deed to his name. I executed the duties for which I was hired.”

“Were you aware that Martin was acting in bad faith?” Marcus asked.

“It’s not my place to judge my clients’ motivations. He represented to me that both had agreed to transfer the title to his name, and he did have a point about the ex-husband. Ohio is not a common-law state, but we do recognize adverse possession. Typically, it requires twenty-one years of continuous possession, but in that case, the ex-husband was financially dependent on the wife and would suffer greatly due to the loss of her income. If the house remained in her name, he could push for a sale and—”

“We’re not here to investigate you,” Kate said. “We’re here to protect you and to find the person trying to kill you. Do you have any idea who that might be?”

“Well… I would say the ex-husband, but it’s been so long… His name was Linus Varne. I’m not sure if he can be found, however. He was quite proud of having no social security number and no identification card of any kind.”

Anita sighed. “Linus Varne is dead.”

Kirke blinked. “Oh. Perhaps the woman then? Beverly? Her name was Marsh prior to taking Martin’s last name.”

“She lives out of state,” Kate replied, “and she’s happily married to someone else now.”

“Well, then…” Kirke uttered another nervous laugh. “Then I’m really not sure. Linus didn’t have any other friends of whom I’m aware. He had fallen out with the other squatters years before. Oh, yes, I should mention that he and Beverly lived for a few years in a vacant property without permission from the owner prior to purchasing their home in Upper Arlington.”

“We’re aware of all of that,” Marcus said, doing a poor job of hiding his frustration. “You’re sure none of his squatter friends would come to his rescue.”

Kirke frowned. “Rescue? I’m not sure what you mean.”

Marcus sighed and rubbed his forehead. “That’s all right, Mr. Andersen. We’ll make sure you have officers watching you for the time being. I’ll turn it over to Sergeant Almeida, and he can go over what that will look like and get your permission to watch you.”

Kirke nodded, and Anita and Marcus started for the door. Kate lingered, lifting a hand and asking, “Mr. Andersen, have you noticed anyone suspicious in the neighborhood? Anyone you don’t recognize?”

“Well… I don’t know everyone here. I’m sorry to say I’m a very busy man and not particularly neighborly. I’m not unfriendly, but I haven’t gone out of my way to know everyone, so I’m not…” He tilted his head. “Actually, now that you mention it, I have noticed something.”

All eyes in the room snapped to him. Anita pulled her notepad and pen out and said, “Go ahead.”

“Well, one of our neighbors is losing his home. He’s going through a nasty divorce, and he and his ex-wife have stopped paying the mortgage. From what I understand, they and the bank are arguing in court over the final disposition of any proceeds from the sale, and the house is in a sort of limbo until then.”

“Is someone squatting at that house?” Kate asked.