Mercy

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Phillip Benchley was not a happy camper. The attorney had just stepped onto the first tee of the back nine at the prestigious New Orleans Country Club when he was summoned to the clubhouse to meet with an attorney from the U.S. Department of Justice.

Impatient but polite, he announced, "My friends are waiting," as he walked into the locker room and sat down on a bench to retie his black-and-white saddle golf shoes. "I would appreciate it if you would make this quick."

Theo introduced himself. The second Benchley heard that the case he wanted to discuss involved John Russell, his manner improved and he actually smiled.

"You're investigating John Russell? Oh, I'd love it if you could get that prick. The sheer arrogance of the man is unbelievable. When Catherine Russell called me and asked me to change her will, it took all I had not to cheer. She never should have married that man. Never," he repeated. "Now, tell me, what can I do to help you nail him?"

"You told FBI agent Noah Clayborne that you sent Dr. Michelle Renard a package from Catherine. Isn't that right?"

Benchley nodded. "Yes, I did, but, as I explained to him, if you're wanting to know what was inside, you'll have to ask the doctor. Catherine gave me a sealed envelope and instructed me not to open it."

"The envelope was taken away before Michelle could look at it," he said. "Catherine didn't give you any hint of what was inside? Anything about a financial statement or an audit? Anything at all?" Theo asked.

"No, but I'll tell you this. Whatever it was must have been explosive, because Catherine assured me that once John knew about it, he wouldn't dare contest the will. She was very sure about that."

"He signed a prenup?"

"Yes, he did, but John's an attorney and he's smart. He wouldn't have let that much money slip through his fingers. He would have taken it to court."

"How come you waited six weeks from the time of her death to read the will?"

"You've been doing your research. Again, I was following Catherine's instructions." He smiled as he added, "She was a bit vindictive, and she told me to wait so that John's bills would pile up. He lived the high life, was indiscreet, and used her trust

money to buy his mistresses presents. When Catherine found out about his adultery, she called me and told me she was changing the will."

"Did you attend the funeral?"

"I went to the mass," he said. "But I didn't go to the cemetery."

"Michelle said there was only a handful of mourners. Did you know any of them?"

"I knew the housekeeper, Rosa Vincetti. I met her when I came to the house to discuss the changes in the will."

"What about John's coworkers or friends?"

"A couple of men and women from the trust department where he works were there. I talked to one man, and he introduced

me to the others, but I don't remember their names."

"What about John's friends?"

"Let me think," he said. "I remember there was a woman standing in the back of the church. She told me she was Catherine's interior designer but that she had also redecorated John's office. As I was leaving the church, she chased me and handed me

one of her cards. I thought that was most inappropriate, and as soon as I got back to the office, I threw the card away. The

only other person I remember seeing was Cameron Lynch. He's a close friend of John's."

"Tell me about him."

"He's a stockbroker," Benchley said. "A very successful broker," he stressed. "I had heard of him, but I'd never met him until

the day of the funeral. I remember thinking that he was an alcoholic. It wasn't a charitable thought, granted, but he smelled like booze, and his eyes were bloodshot. I'm certain he was hungover. He also had that look about him-you know what I mean, the gray skin, red nose, puffy eyes, indicating he had been a heavy drinker for some time. Cameron stayed close to John and sat in

the pew with him like he was family."

"Did John speak to you?"

"Are you kidding? He looked right through me, and I must say, I did get a chuckle out of that. The man despises me, and that couldn't make me happier."

Theo was almost finished. He asked a couple more questions, then thanked Benchley for his help and left. The attorney had thoughtfully called his secretary and gotten the addresses Theo needed.

He had at least two more stops before he could head back to Bowen.

Theo needed to make sure Cameron Lynch was the man Michelle and he had seen the night before. He drove to the brokerage firm and went into the lobby. He had already come up with a good lie to tell the receptionist so she would find a photo for him,

but that wasn't necessary. As soon as he walked through the doors, he saw a eight-by-ten color photo of Cameron Lynch on the wall. Theo came to a dead stop. There was a grouping displaying all the brokers in the firm. Cameron was in the middle. Theo glanced at the receptionist. She was talking into her headset but smiling at him. Theo smiled back. Then he lifted the photo off

the wall, turned around, and walked out.

He needed help with the next stop. He called Captain Welles, the man who had introduced him at the awards ceremony, and asked him for assistance. Then he drove to Cameron Lynch's apartment, located in a sleazy neighborhood adjacent to the newly refurbished warehouse district. He parked his car down the street and waited for two detectives from the captain's precinct to arrive.

The two men pulled up behind him fifteen minutes later. Detective Underwood, the senior of the two, shook Theo's hand.

"The captain told us you're the man who got The Count. It's an honor to meet you."

Then Detective Basham stepped forward. "I heard your speech at the banquet."

Theo had removed the photo from the frame. He handed it to Underwood and said, "This is the man I want."

"The captain said we're taking Cameron Lynch in for attempted murder and that you've got a witness," Basham said.

"I'm one of the witnesses. Lynch tried to kill a friend of mine and me."

"We did a sweep of the neighborhood, and his car isn't here," Underwood said.

"So how do you want us to do this?" Basham asked. "Captain said you had special instructions."

"Assume he's armed and dangerous," Theo said. "When you cuff him, read him his rights and take him in, but don't book him yet.

I want him locked in an interrogation room so I can talk to him. I don't want his name in the computer, not yet anyway."

"We'll stake out the place. You want to wait with us?"

"No, I've got another stop to make, but as soon as you have him, call me on my cell phone or at a bar in Bowen named The Swan. Hopefully, you won't have to wait long. I think he's on his way home."

It seemed logical. Lynch wouldn't want to stay in Bowen, not after he'd been spotted, and he wouldn't know that Theo had made the connection. Theo wrote down his number and handed it to the detective, then reiterated that he wanted to be called, no matter what time, the second they had Lynch.

"Yes, sir, we'll call," Basham promised.

"Wait a minute," Theo said as the two men walked away. He picked up his notepad, flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for, and then asked if either one of them could give him directions to the address Benchley had given him.

Underwood told him the quickest route to take and then remarked, "That's a bad-ass neighborhood. Be careful."

Theo drove through the heart of New Orleans, slowly negotiating his way through the narrow streets. He was sure he'd gotten lost, but once he turned the car around, he spotted the street he was looking for. Two blocks later he found the address.

He parked the car, then picked up his phone and called Noah.

"Find out anything?" Noah asked.

Theo told him about Cameron Lynch. "Ask Ben Nelson to look for a '92 blue Ford Taurus." He gave him the license number and told him to tell Ben that if he found the car, to proceed with extreme caution.

"You think he can handle it?" Noah asked.

"Yes," Theo answered. "He knows what he's doing. Just make sure he knows Lynch is one of the shooters. I want that bastard locked up and isolated until I can interrogate him."

"I doubt that Lynch is still hanging around Bowen. He's got to know you can ID him."

"I don't think he's there either," Theo said. "I'm hoping he's on his way home. What's Michelle doing?"

"She's a funny woman," he said. "She fell asleep sitting at the table."

"She had a long night."

"So did you," Noah pointed out. "Anyway, she's getting ready to go to The Swan with Jake and me… and his laugh-a-minute son. Have you heard from Detective Harris yet?"

"No, I haven't, and I've left her three messages. The first two were sort of polite, the third wasn't."

"While I was in New Orleans this morning, I went over to her precinct like you asked," Noah said. "I talked to her captain."

"Did you get a copy of the file on Monk?"

"No," he answered. "The captain told me Harris was out on an investigation. He wouldn't give me any indication of where she might be. He made it clear he didn't want me interfering. The twelve hours will be up soon. When are you heading back to Bowen?"

"I've got one more stop, and then I'm on my way."

"I've got to go," Noah said. "Michelle's calling me."

Theo grabbed his notepad and glasses and stared at the tiny ranch house in front of him. The little patch of yard was meticulously cared for with flowers lining either side of the sidewalk leading up to the door. The house needed paint, and the wood around the windows was rotten. Termites, he thought as he walked to the door. The fact that the yard was well-tended and the house ignored suggested to him that the occupant took care of what she could afford.

He rang the bell and waited. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the curtain move in the front window. He rang the bell again.

A woman called out through the door. "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for Rosa Vincetti."

"Are you police?" the woman asked.

"No," he answered. "I'm a friend of Jake Renard."

The woman opened the door a crack with the security chain in place. "I'm Rosa," she said. "What do you want?"

She was obviously frightened. He should have taken the time to shave. "Jake Renard told me that he often talked to you on the phone when he called Catherine."

"Yes," she said. "Mr. Renard loved Catherine."

Theo couldn't see the woman's face. She was hiding behind the door. There was a light flickering behind her. He thought it might be a candle burning.

"You aren't with the police?" she asked again.

"No, I'm an attorney," he explained.

Rosa shut the door, slipped the chain back, and then opened it again. She stepped back so Theo could come inside. Theo stayed

on the porch. Concerned she would panic when she saw his gun, he explained quickly why he had to carry the weapon. And

when he finished, he once again assured her he wasn't a policeman, and he hadn't driven to her house to cause her any trouble.

Rosa was a surprise. She was much younger than he'd expected, around fifty he judged, and almost as tall as he was. Streaks of gray highlighted her dark hair. Heavy brows framed midnight black eyes. There were tears in those eyes now as she once again motioned for him to come inside.

"My name is Theo Buchanan," he said as he walked into her living room.

She was already nodding. "I know who you are. I prayed to God, and He sent you to me."

He didn't know what to say to that, and so he simply nodded. "Please sit," she said and pointed to a gray brocade sofa, "and tell

me why you have come here."

Theo waited until she had taken her seat across from riim. An oval glass table was between them. Theo leaned forward with his arms on his knees and told Rosa how he had met Michelle Renard. He was trying to put her at ease and help her understand his relationship to the Renard family. Rosa listened intently.

She obviously was a deeply religious woman. Signs of her faith adorned every surface in her home. Against the wall behind her was a long sofa table that had been converted into an altar with a lace runner on top. At one end, two votive candles burned, and at the other end was a framed picture of the Blessed Mother. Black rosary beads were draped over the frame.

Theo explained what had happened the night before and how he and Michelle had been ambushed. "Catherine sent Michelle a package," he said.

She nodded. "Yes, I know."

He kept his excitement hidden. His guess had been right.

"I believe the men who came after Michelle and me were trying to get that package," he said. "They weren't successful," he added. "The police have it now."

Rosa stiffened. "Did you have a chance to read the papers?" she asked.

"Not yet," he said. "However, I'm sure that John Russell is behind this, and I want to get him. To do that, I'm going to need your help."

"He's an evil man," she whispered. "He will go to hell when he dies. He killed her, you know."

She said it almost casually, as though the startling news had been in the papers for weeks.

"He killed Catherine?"

"Yes, he did. I don't have any proof," she hastened to add. "But in my heart I know he did it. The ambulance people who came

to the house… one of them told me she choked to death on caramels." She was shaking her head. "I knew the truth then."

"How did you know?"

"She wouldn't eat caramels. She had a loose bridge and she constantly fretted that it would break. She would never leave the house to go to a dentist, so she was extremely careful. Mr. Russell brought her a box of chocolates every night, and then he left

to be with his whores, but Catherine only ate the soft candies. She never would have touched a caramel."

She made the sign of the cross and folded her hands as though in prayer. "You must find proof and arrest John Russell. It would be a sin to let such an evil man get away with murder. You must do this for Catherine and me."

Theo nodded. "I'm going to try," he promised. "Catherine found out about John's affairs, didn't she? That was the reason she left him only a hundred dollars in her will."

"Yes, she heard him on the phone. He called her terrible names when he was talking to his mistress. She cried for days," she added. "And then one night she heard him talking to a man about a deposit he had made in an account outside of the United States. She heard him tell the man not to worry, that no one would know because all the records were in his computer at home."

Theo began to make notes as Rosa fed him the information she'd been given by Catherine.

"How did she break into his files? How did she come up with the right password?"

"John gave it to her," Rosa said. "Of course, he didn't know it at the time. She listened to his phone conversations, and twice she heard him refer to the Sowing Club. The next day, after he had gone to work and I had sent the maid to the grocery store, I helped her go down to the library. She typed in the words but was denied access. The spelling, you see, was incorrect. Catherine was a very smart woman," she added. "The second time she typed in the correct spelling, and the files opened up to her."

"So it's sowing, as in sowing wild oats, instead of sewing, as in stitching clothes?"

"Yes," she said. "That's what Catherine told me."

"Did she tell you what was in those files?"

"She said her husband was doing illegal things with money."

He rubbed his jaw. "Why did she instruct her attorney to wait until after her death to send copies of the files? Why didn't she just have John arrested?"

"You don't understand."

"Help me understand," he urged.

"Catherine had many fine qualities, but she was also a very controlling woman. She wanted things done just so, and she wanted her husband to respect his marriage vows." She shook her head as she added, "She wouldn't let him go, but after she died, she wouldn't let any other woman have him. She was going to use the papers she'd given Mr. Benchley to make him… "

"Toe the line?" Theo asked.

"Yes."

"Did you meet any of John's friends?"

She shook her head. "He never invited anyone to the house. I think he was keeping Catherine isolated. He was ashamed of her, but even after she took to her bed and stayed in her room, he still didn't have friends to the house."

Theo closed his notepad. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"What is it?"

"Why are you so afraid of the police?"

She looked down at her hands. "My son got into trouble last year. The police… they came to the house in the middle of the

night and dragged him out of his bed. He was taken to jail, and I was very afraid for him. Catherine called her attorney, and he gave her the name of someone else who could help my boy."

"A criminal attorney?"

"I think so," she said. "My son is out on probation now, but every night when he doesn't come home, I think he's been taken away again. He runs with bad people, and I pray to God every night that He will look out for him. He's a good boy," she whispered.

"But he's a follower and does whatever those bad people tell him to do."

"What kind of trouble did he get into?"

"Drugs," she said, and then she crossed herself again. "He was taking money from people and giving them drugs. He's stopped that," she hastened to add. "He promised me and he stopped."

Theo nodded. "I understand," he said. "I don't want to make things more difficult for you, but there's something I need, Rosa… and you have it, don't you?"