“Absolutely not. His murder is beyond my comprehension.”
“You sent me a tentative list for interviews with other members of the family and household this afternoon. We are already running behind. Can we modify that and get this done today?”
“I’ve started on that already. People are waiting for my call. There will have to be one exception. My mother-in-law is not available. Brenda is physically and psychologically fragile. Her psychiatrist is flying in this afternoon. She may have to be hospitalized again. Is there anything else, Sheriff?”
“As his personal lawyer, you must be familiar with his will. Who would benefit from Mr. Wudbine’s death?”
Jill rocked in her chair—a slow, almost imperceptible motion—with her eyes cast down at her hands. Finally she looked up, not at Ray or Sue, just a gaze over their shoulders at some distant point. “Everything has been carefully provided for in an elaborate series of trusts. The majority of the estate goes to the foundation. Controlling interest in the corporation goes to Elliott. Brenda Wudbine is provided for. Most of the money is in trust to protect her financial future. We’ve had all of this in place for years, modifying the trusts from time to time to adjust to changes in the law.”
Jill looked across the table at Ray. “We are in the process of planning a memorial service. When will the body be returned to us?”
“Probably later this week. In all likelihood an autopsy will take place tomorrow. Depending on the findings, they may want to keep it a few more days for further studies. Have you established a tentative time and place….”
“We are just beginning that conversation.” Jill looked at her watch. “Sheriff, here’s the tentative schedule for the rest of the afternoon. She pulled a folded piece of paper from her shoulder bag, opened it, and pushed it across the desk. “I can have Alyson Mickels, who serves as our concierge, meet you here at 3:00. And I have tentatively scheduled Pepper Markley at 3:30.”
“What is her position?”
“She wears a number of hats: personal trainer, pilot, and head of security. She drove Malcolm to the Assembly Hall last evening.”
“I have Elliott scheduled at 4:00. Please go easy on him. He’s very sensitive and has been completely shattered by these events.”
“Are there other people living or working at Gull House?”
“We have a housekeeper, a chef, and a caretaker.”
“I would like to talk with them also. Could you schedule that for tomorrow morning?”
“Well, they really don’t know anything. They are totally out of the loop, but if you insist. Is there anything else, Sheriff?”
“Thank you for your cooperation. I will undoubtedly need to talk with you again.”
Ray signaled the end of the interview by standing, and he and Sue remained silent until Jill exited, settled onto the seat of a golf cart, and rolled out of sight.
“The woman is without affect. Can’t make eye contact. Verity mentioned Asperger’s,” said Ray.
“Not possible.”
“Why?” asked Ray.
“Article in the Times last winter. Asperger’s is passé. Now it is spectrum disorder.”
“Think she’s a killer?”
“Don’t know. I wonder what’s hidden beneath that shell.”
22
Ray looked across the table at Alyson Mickels. Her strong shoulders and arms extended from a black tank top, the stretchy material clinging to her toned body. The subtle pink of her lipgloss contrasted against the tight tan skin. Alyson’s long blonde hair was pulled into a French twist. She reached up with her left hand to push back a few errant strands.
“How long had you been employed by Mr. Wudbine?”
Mickels held Ray’s eyes steady in her gaze. After a few seconds delay, she responded, “It’s been about two years.”
“What did you do before that?” asked Ray.
“I was a commercial pilot.”
“And before that?”
“I was in the military, naval aviation. I graduated from Annapolis and thought I would make my career in the service. But I eventually grew beyond that. I needed some new challenges.”
“What was the path that brought you to work for Malcolm Wudbine?”
“Like I said, I had been working as a commercial pilot, and with the slowing of the economy I had been laid off. A friend from the Academy was a principal in an exclusive personal security firm in Chicago. He thought I had the right skill set for his business. The pay was good, and I learned the ins and outs of the profession. The other thing I learned very quickly was that you were mostly sitting around waiting for clients. So I spent a lot of time at a gym getting rid of my frustrations and working at staying fit. The gym owner noticed that I was in better shape than any of his personal trainers. He offered me a job, part-time at first, and guided specific clients in my direction. Malcolm Wudbine was one of those clients. It soon became clear to both of us that I had the right competencies to serve in a variety of roles in his personal and professional life. In addition to being a skilled personal trainer, I have commercial licenses in both fixed wing and rotary, and I can manage a security operation.
“I probably wouldn’t have picked this kind of work. It’s very intrusive on my personal life. However, Mr. Wudbine provided generous remuneration and benefits. I thought it was something I could do for a year or two.”
“Tell me about the security part, especially up here.”
“I did some one-on-one work for him as a bodyguard. I also worked as a liaison with the security firm that provided services to his offices, his apartment in the Loop, and their house in Kenilworth. When we came north, my job really was pilot and personal trainer. He didn’t feel he needed protection here. I did keep my eyes and ears open for any possible dangers. I did a security assessment of the colony and environs, including the actors and other people connected with the theater. Most of these people have known one another for decades. There were no apparent threats.”
“What were your other job responsibilities?”
“To be available at all times as a pilot, trainer, chauffeur, or companion. I usually accompanied him on trips to town and around the area. I think for him it had more to do with companionship than any security consideration. He liked being chauffeured, he liked having someone to talk to.”
“This perceived need for security, was it caused by any specific threats or…?”
“There were no specific threats. But as you know, Sheriff, there are a lot of people out there with anger toward corporate types and Wall Street. You never know when some crazy is going to pop up. Mr. Wudbine was a public personality, his many charitable activities attracted media attention. I think he was just showing proper caution.”
“So you told us that you dropped him off at the theater. What time was that?”
“He was running late. I think it was getting close to eight. We had flown to Traverse City to pick up Elliott. His plane was late, weather slowdown in Chicago. When we got back, I ran them up to the house from the heliport. As soon as we went in, the two of them disappeared into Mr. Wudbine’s library. Eventually, I drove Elliott to his cottage and came back for Mr. Wudbine and drove him to the Assembly Hall.”
“So what did you do then?” asked Sue.
“I parked the golf cart away from the building under a tree. I had a seat at the rear of the auditorium. I was planning to watch the play.”
“Were you alone?”
“No, Elliott had a seat next to mine. He arrived just before the curtain went up.”
“Continue.”
“Sometime after the opening curtain, it really started to pour. I slipped out and moved the golf cart down to the picnic shelter. After I toweled off the cart, I stayed put waiting for the rain to let up. Elliott called as I was checking my e-mail. He said his father had been killed. I picked him up at the stage door, Jill and Pepper also, and brought them back to Gull House.”