Luther dead; Kate leaving. His life hadn’t really changed all that much, despite all the recent activity. The Whitneys were finally, irreversibly, gone from him.
He looked at the pink pile of messages on his desk. All routine. Then he hit a button on his phone to check his voice mail, which he hadn’t done in a couple of days. Patton, Shaw let their clients have their choice of the antiquated written phone message or the technologically advanced voice mail. The more demanding clients loved the latter. At least then they didn’t have to wait to scream at you.
There were two calls from Tarr Crimson. He would find Tarr another lawyer. Patton, Shaw was too expensive for him anyway. There were several Baldwin-related matters. Right. Those could wait for the next guy Jennifer Baldwin set her laser sights on. The last message jolted him. It was a woman’s voice. Small, hesitant, elderly, clearly uncomfortable with the concept of voice mail. Jack played it back again.
“Mr. Graham, you don’t know me. My name is Edwina Broome. I was a friend of Luther Whitney.” Broome? The name was familiar. The message continued. “Luther told me that if anything happened to him I was to wait a little bit and then I was to send the package on to you. He told me not to open it and I didn’t. He said it was like a Pandora’s box. If you looked you might get hurt. God rest his soul, he was a good man, Luther was. I hadn’t heard from you, not that I expected to. But it just occurred to me that I should call and make sure that you got the thing. I’ve never had to send something like that before, overnight delivery they call it. And I think I did it right, but I don’t know. If you didn’t get it, please call me. Luther said it was very important. And Luther never said anything that wasn’t true.”
Jack listened to the phone number and wrote it down. He checked the time of the call. Yesterday morning. He quickly searched his office. There was no package lurking there. He jogged down the hallway to his secretary’s workstation. There was no package there either. He went back to his office. My God, a package from Luther. Edwina Broome? He put his hand through his hair, assaulted his scalp, forced himself to think. Suddenly the name came to him. The mother of the woman who had killed herself. Frank had told him about her. Luther’s alleged partner.
Jack picked up the phone. It seemed to ring for an eternity.
“H-hello?” The voice was sleepy, distant.
“Mrs. Broome? This is Jack Graham. I’m sorry for calling you so late.”
“Mr. Graham?” The voice was no longer sleepy. It was alert, sharp. Jack could almost envision her sitting up in bed, clutching at her nightgown, looking anxiously at the phone receiver.
“I’m sorry, I just got your message. I didn’t get the package, Mrs. Broome. When did you send it?”
“Let me think for a minute.” Jack could hear the labored breathing. “Why it was five days ago, counting today.”
Jack thought furiously. “Do you have the receipt with a number on it?”
“The man gave me a piece of paper. I’ll have to go get it.”
“I’ll wait.”
He tapped his fingers against his desk, tried to stop his mind from flying apart. Just hold on, Jack. Just hold on.
“I’ve got it right here, Mr. Graham.”
“Please call me Jack. Did you send it by Federal Express?”
“That’s right. Yes.”
“All right, what’s the tracking number?”
“The what?”
“I’m sorry. The number on the upper-right-hand corner of the piece of paper. It should be a long series of numbers.”
“Oh yes.” She gave it to him. He scribbled the numbers down, read them back to her to confirm it. He also had her confirm the address of the law firm.
“Jack, is this very serious? I mean Luther dying the way he did and all.”
“Has anyone called you, anyone you don’t know? Besides me?”
“No.”
“Well if they do I want you to call Seth Frank, Middleton Police Department.”
“I know him.”
“He’s a good guy, Mrs. Broome. You can trust him.”
“All right, Jack.”
He hung up and phoned Federal Express. He could hear the computer keys clicking on the other end of the line.
The female voice was professional and concise. “Yes, Mr. Graham, it was delivered at the law offices of Patton, Shaw & Lord on Thursday at ten-oh-two A.M. and signed for by a Ms. Lucinda Alvarez.”
“Thank you. I guess it’s around here somewhere.” Bewildered, he was about to hang up.
“Has there been some special problem with this package delivery, Mr. Graham?”
Jack looked puzzled. “Special problem? No, why?”
“Well, when I pulled up the delivery history of this package it shows that we already had an inquiry about it earlier today.”
Jack’s whole body tensed. “Earlier today? What time?”
“Six-thirty P.M.”
“Did they leave a name?”
“Well, that’s the unusual part. According to my records, that person also identified himself as Jack Graham.” Her tone made it clear she was far from certain of Jack’s real identity.
Jack felt a chill invade every part of his body.
He slowly hung up the phone. Somebody else was very interested in this package, whatever it was. And someone knew it was coming to him. His hands were shaking as he picked up the phone again. He quickly dialed Seth Frank, but the detective had gone home. The person would not give out Frank’s home phone, and Jack had left that number back at his apartment. After some prodding by Jack the person tried the detective’s home, but there was no answer. He swore under his breath. A quick call to directory assistance was useless; the home number was nonpub.
Jack leaned back in his chair, the breaths coming a little more rapidly. He felt his chest where his heart suddenly threatened to explode through his shirt. He had always considered himself a possessor of above-average courage. Now he wasn’t so sure.
He forced himself to focus. The package had been delivered. Lucinda had signed for it. The routine at Patton, Shaw was precise; mail was vitally important to law firms. All overnight packages would be given to the firm’s in-house gofer team to be distributed with the day’s other mail. They brought it around in a cart. They all knew where Jack’s office was. Even if they didn’t, the firm printed out a map that was routinely updated. So long as you used the correct map...
Jack raced to the door, flung it open and sprinted down the hallway. Completely unbeknownst to him, around the corner, in the opposite direction, a light had just come on in Sandy Lord’s office.
Jack clicked on the light in his old office and the room quickly came into focus. He frantically searched the desktop, then pulled out the chair to sit down and his eyes came to rest on the package. Jack picked it up. He instinctively looked around, noted the open blinds and hurriedly shut them.
He read the package labeclass="underline" Edwina Broome to Jack Graham. This was it. The package was boxy, but light. It was a box within a box, that’s what she had said. He started to open it, then stopped. They knew the package had been delivered here. They? That was the only label he could think to apply. If they knew the package was here, had in fact called about it this very day, what would they do? If whatever was inside was that important and it had already been opened, presumably they would already know about it. Since that hadn’t happened, what would they do?