“Primarily, but we do everything.”
“Do you know Jack Cohen?”
Waterson’s jaw tightened. “Yes, I do. Good attorney. Where do you know him from?”
“Used to work for him way back when.”
The lawyer was puzzled. “Doing what?”
“Estates and wills.”
Waterson absorbed Decker’s words. “You’re an attorney?”
“Was many moons ago. I’m hopelessly out of practice, but I can still recall a thing or two. Things like trusts avoid probate. That’s most fortunate for Mrs. Sparks. She doesn’t need financial constrictions on top of all her other woes.”
“You’re absolutely right. I assure you Dolly is being well cared for.”
“Certainly appears that way.”
“It is that way.” Waterson stuck out his hand. “I must be going. Nice to have met you.”
Decker took the lawyer’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Waterson. I might have other questions. Do you have a card on you?”
“Of course.” The lawyer handed him a standard 2 × 3 rectangle, then shook hands with both sons. “Take care of your mother. I’ll call upon her later.”
“Thanks for coming down,” Paul said.
“For your family, I’d do anything, Paul.”
“I appreciate it.”
After Waterson left, Michael frowned. “Guy’s a jerk. Love thy neighbor at two hundred and fifty an hour-”
“Mike-”
“Out of all the lawyers, why did Dad pick him?” To Decker, Michael said, “Dad had an affinity for oddballs-”
“Mike-”
“It’s true, Paul. Not only Waterson. Just look at his staff-Decameron, Berger-”
Decker said, “What’s wrong with Dr. Decameron?”
Paul snapped, “Nothing is wrong with Dr. Decameron.”
“Aside from the fact he’s gay?” Decker asked casually.
“I’m not falling into that bullshit trap,” Paul said. “You have your beliefs, I have mine. No, I don’t approve of his lifestyle. But if Dr. Decameron is good enough for Dad, I’m sure he’s an excellent doctor.”
“What about Dr. Berger?” Decker asked.
Michael said, “He’s mealy-mouthed and a wimp.”
“And Jewish?” Decker said.
Paul stared at him. “Half the doctors in America are Jewish. What are you trying to do? Paint us as a bunch of prejudiced asses just because we believe in God? Jesus loves all His creatures, sir. You, me, everyone. And that, sir, is my belief.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Paul,” Decker said. “I’m sorry.”
The room fell silent.
Paul closed his fluttering eyelids. “I’m testy.”
“You’re holding up very well.” To Michael, Decker asked, “Why do you think Berger is a wimp?”
“Because you can’t get a straight answer out of him,” Michael said. “And he’s pompous. You know if anyone had a reason to be full of himself it was my dad. But he wasn’t like that at all. Yes, he demanded respect. But he wasn’t a blow hole. Even Dr. Fulton’s weird…married to that loser-”
“Enough, Michael!” Paul blew up. “It’s none of the lieutenant’s business!”
“He’s investigating Dad’s murder, Paul. Everything about us is his business!”
Decker said, “Waterson seems to care about your mother.”
Michael said, “Cares a little too much if you ask me. He’s practically been living here.”
Paul snapped, “What is wrong with you? Waterson’s been a godsend, giving Mom and us…financial direction. We’ve all been so confused. At least, someone knows what he’s doing.”
Michael began to pace. “Well, Paul, I guess at this point I don’t trust anyone.”
“Go get Mom,” Paul said quietly.
Michael was about to speak. Instead, he said nothing, then disappeared upstairs. Paul said, “Can I get you something to drink, Lieutenant.”
“Nothing, thank you. How are you doing, Mr. Sparks?”
“Not great.” His eyelids shivered as his eyes watered. “Please take Michael’s words with a grain of salt. He’s upset, taking it out on Waterson. Yes, the guy’s a little puffed up. But that’s not why Michael’s angry.”
“I realize that. Did Waterson speak with your mom while he was here?”
“Yeah, for about a half hour. Truthfully, he has been here a lot. But then again, he’s conducting our financial business. He has questions to ask.”
“What do you know about your father and his motorcycle buddies?”
Paul’s expression turned puzzled. “Now there’s a non sequitur.”
“You know your dad rode with bikers, don’t you?”
“What about them?”
“He gave money to one of their causes. Some environment freedom act. Do you know anything about that?”
“Not a clue.” The eyelids fluttered. “What kind of environment freedom act?”
“I’m not sure,” Decker said. “It’s hard to understand these guys. From what I’ve gleaned, it deals with repealing restrictive legislation-things like mandatory mufflers on motorcycles, throwing back the age limit for operating All-Terrain Vehicles, getting rid of the helmet law, giving motorcycles more leeway on smog emissions. Any idea why your father would contribute to something like that?”
“No.” Paul sighed. “I hate to say it, but Mike was right. Dad did surround himself with some real strange characters. Anyway, Dad didn’t confide in me.”
“Who did he confide in?”
“Maybe Bram. But you won’t get anything out of him. Being a priest, Bram’s pretty tight-lipped about everything.”
“What about Waterson? Did your father confide in him?”
“I doubt it. Waterson’s been helpful.” Paul paused. “I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. But the man is painting himself like he was some old family friend. He and Dad were church friends. I know Dad helped him out when Waterson’s wife was sick. But as far as I know, they weren’t bosom buddies.”
“Interesting,” Decker said. “Why do you think he’s doing that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s money in it for him as executor of Dad’s estate.”
Paul thought a moment.
“Or maybe Waterson does have some empathy at our tragedy…my mother’s plight. He was broken up after his wife died. It was a long illness. I remember my wife occasionally cooking for him. So did Mom, my sister-in-law, and the other women at the church. Rotating days to bring him casseroles, stuff like that. Couple of times my parents had him over for Sunday dinner. His wife was too sick to come.”
“How’d that go?”
“Nice and polite. Waterson didn’t talk much. Dad kind of led the discussions. He seemed grateful, thanked my parents profusely for all they had done for him and Ellen…his wife. I also remember my parents talking about her death…how young she’d been…” Paul smiled. “Young meaning close to their ages.”
It was time to drop the bomb. Decker said, “Waterson paid a visit to the bikers this morning. Any idea why?”
“Waterson?”
“Yep.”
“Then he was lying about being with a client.”
“Unless the client was the bikers.”
Paul opened and closed his mouth. “How’d you find that out?”
Decker sidestepped the question. “Why would Mr. Waterson go visit your father’s biker buddies?”
“I haven’t the foggiest notion. This is very weird.”
“Did your father leave them money in his will?”
“I don’t know. Waterson hasn’t read us the will. Maybe my father did leave them something. I was under the impression that Waterson couldn’t distribute any funds until the will has been formally read. Isn’t that how it works?”
“Usually. Unless your father wrote a secret codicil requesting something else.”
Paul was quiet.
“How about your mother?” Decker said. “What would she know about your father’s finances?”
“From what she’s told me, not much. Dad was from the old school. Hide the problems, keep the wife and family free from worry. Which meant that Mom was pretty much kept in the dark. But knowing my mother, she’s more aware than she’s letting on. She’s a sharp woman. Perceptive in that behind-the-scenes way.”