"It was. It looked as if the Jet Skier was trying hard to run somebody down-almost certainly Janet, since the same thing happened last week when she was on the lake herself."
"Janet always did have an overly active imagination," Chester said sourly.
Torkildson gave me a genial don't-mind-him look and said, "Chester is the skeptic in the Osborne family."
A tendency he'd been known to express with a hockey stick. I said, "The police are taking the incident seriously, as they ought to. It was either gross negligence or attempted murder-serious stuff, either way."
"I couldn't agree more," Torkildson said, and Osborne sniffed and shook his head. "I saw Janet when she came in this morning," Torkildson ^, went on, "and while she's one tough cookie, she's been badly shaken by yesterday's events. I've known Janet for more than thirty years, and I think I know when that girl is hurting. I talked to her, and I hope I was able to pep her up some."
"Did Janet discuss her suspicions with you?" I said. "That Eric's murder and the Jet Ski attacks might be related to each other and to the fight over control of the Herald!"
Osborne slumped low in his seat looking glum, but Torkildson said conversationally, "No, Janet and I spoke only briefly, but Chester has filled me in on that aspect of the story. It's pretty lurid stuff for Edens-burg, I have to tell you." He grinned and made mock shivering noises. "Sounds more like a thriller you'd pick up at the airport than real life, to be perfectly candid."
I said, "No, it sounds to me more like real life-a valuable family asset being fought over by too many heirs, all of whom have different values, and varying motives for either holding on to an asset or disposing of it in one way or another, and some of whom are desperate in their need for one outcome or another. And once in a while, in situations like this one, that desperation turns murderous. It happens. History is full of it, and newspapers are too. Even the Herald, I'll bet, sometimes reports on family members obliterating other family members over money."
Osborne glared at me and said, "This is actionable. Strachey, if you talk garbage like that outside this room, I'll see you in courtl"
Torkildson must have been used to Chester's eruptions and appeared unfazed. He said, "Chettie, I can see why you're ticked off-I'm sure I would be too if I were in your shoes. But try to understand that Don here is an outsider coming into a situation where he's unfamiliar with the lay of the land, and he's feeling his way. The first people he talks to are people who've suffered a tragic loss, and on top of that they've had the daylights scared out of them by some nitwit on the lake who ought to be barred for life from going anywhere near a device with an internal combustion engine attached to it. Naturally this one-sided combination is going to suggest that the Herald's current situation will represent a legitimate line of inquiry into these other difficult matters.
"So, on the one hand, Don's pursuing that line of inquiry is entirely understandable. While on the other hand, however, there's the indisputable fact that no evidence exists tying these violent acts to the Osborne family's disagreements over the Herald's disposition. There's been a lot of emotion, and that's led to certain fears, but a professional investigator like Don here, Chettie, is not about to be swayed by fear and emotion." Torkildson looked me in the eye and smiled and said, "For a pro like yourself, it always has to be, 'Just the facts, if you please, ma'am.' Have I got it right, Don?"
It was like listening to the Okefenokee Swamp talk. I was surprised Torkildson had never run successfully for national office. Nor could I
Chain of Fools
Chain of Fools respond to Torkildson's verbal miasma with crisp candor. Bringing up Chester's ominous and suggestive threat to his mother-in order to prevent the Herald's sale to the good chain, "somebody else might have to get hurt"-would only have provoked a furious denial from Chester. And Captain Bill Stankie's report on Chester's two prison visits to the son he had supposedly disowned-and who had hinted to another Attica inmate that an Osborne family member had been involved in Eric's murder-was confidential. My repeating the report would both betray Stankie's trust and trigger who knew what kind of unwanted-at-this-point hysterical reaction on the part of Chester Osborne.
So I said to Torkildson: "Stu, you make an excellent case for open-mindedness, and open-minded is what I plan to be. But tell me, besides the conflict over the Herald, can you think of any other reason why anyone would try to kill Janet? There is evidence that the Jet Ski attacks were not accidental. The skier came at her on two separate occasions. He made repeated runs at her the first time-last week-and two runs yesterday, which I witnessed myself. Why might anybody do that, do you think?"
Osborne shifted in his seat and muttered, "Jealous dykes, if you ask me."
"I'm wondering what Stu thinks," I said. "He knows Janet wellworks with her every day."
Torkildson screwed up his face. "Of course, I don't keep an eye on Janet's private life at all, you have to understand. And at the Herald the business and editorial sides of the paper are separate, so days will go by when we don't even see one another. But my impression is that Janet and Dale are a devoted couple. So it seems unlikely that these attacks-and I'll take your word that that's what you think they were- were the work of some type of crazed lesbian. Otherwise-what? A disgruntled former employee? I suppose the Herald has a few of those out there… every business does. Janet herself would be the one to ask about that, I would guess. Or Bob Comongore, our director of human resources. Perhaps it was an outraged reader." Torkildson chuckled and said, "I know we've got one or two of those. Although generally a testy letter to the editor lances any boil growing on the average incensed reader's butt. Attempted murder by an irate reader would be a first, in my experience."
I said, "What about Eric's murder?"
"It broke our hearts," Torkildson said without hesitation. "Eric Osborne was one of the finest human beings it has ever been my honor to know."
"Why is he bringing that up?" Chester whined. "Do you see what I mean, Stu? Let's put this all in the hands of a good attorney before this guy runs roughshod."
"Don, why are you bringing Eric into this?" Torkildson said coolly. "In his case, there couldn't have been any connection to the Herald situation. Eric was murdered, according to the State Police, by a serial killer who went on to attack other outdoors people in Pennsylvania. Are you suggesting there's even the possibility that this Gordon Grubb character was an agent of one of the parties in the disagreement over the Herald's disposition?"
"No," I said, "that sounds farfetched. But the evidence against Grubb is sketchy and circumstantial. He was actually last spotted near the murder scene a full two days before Eric was killed. The police say that Grubb admits to nothing, and the case is still open. I met with the investigating officer, Bill Stankie, earlier this morning, and while he considers Grubb his prime suspect, that's all Grubb is. Stankie is open to following any actual evidence that turns up, wherever it might lead."
I watched Chester Osborne when I mentioned Stankie's name; his face tightened and his mouth formed a hard little button.
"Don, now that's exactly my point," Torkildson said. "Legally the case against Grubb is circumstantial, yes-as are most murder cases that result in convictions. But the police suspect Grubb because there is no evidence whatsoever, circumstantial or otherwise, linking anyone else to the crime. I wouldn't go so far as to term any linkage between Eric's death and the Herald's situation a paranoid fantasy-or, as Chester seems to regard it, a malicious and actionable accusation. But the idea does necessitate a quite severe stretch of the imagination, considering that not a shred of evidence exists to support such an egregious criminal linkage.