Thursday
Sitting in her tack room, low sixties, a lovely light breeze, the door finally open, she could hear the horses outside playing. Spring fever didn’t just affect humans.
Mrs. Murphy sat next to Harry’s computer. Pewter, colossally bored since this wasn’t about her, snored, splayed out on the sheepskin saddle pads. Tucker sat by Harry’s chair.
“What’s she doing now?” Tucker inquired.
Mrs. Murphy peered over the top of the computer.
“Murphy, what are you doing?”
“She’s looking at pictures of a car dealership,” the cat answered her canine friend.
Lawsuits were public record. The very first thing Harry had done on Tuesday was to see if Montgomery County in Maryland had lawsuits on record. There was the one about drugs, and the dealership was dismissed from the case. The guilty party was still serving time. One case in 2009 proved a bit interesting in that a buyer sued for the entire replacement of the computer brains for a Mercedes that had been traded using a Lexus. Now there was a jump in taste. Harry read this with interest. The entire Mercedes had died, fritzed right out, for the rain had somehow driven up under the windshield wipers, seeping down into the brains of the car. Clearly human brains were becoming less and less necessary, according to carmakers. Anyway, the cost was well over seven thousand dollars, and that did not include the labor. The buyer’s insurance found a way to wiggle out. Understandably furious, one Mr. Samuel Bonfoy sued the dealership. This dragged on. Holzknect had inspected the car before the sale. Low miles, new tires, it seemed good, and it was until that unusual driving rainstorm. Harry, a motorhead, devoured the voluminous proceedings. Mercedes knew this was a design flaw but very few of their cars died in this fashion, sort of an automotive brain hemorrhage. They did not publicize the flaw. Holzknect again was exonerated. Fascinated, Harry checked on Mr. Bonfoy’s subsequent suit against Mercedes-Benz USA. Naturally, they initially refused to pay. Ultimately, they replaced his vehicle because Mr. Bonfoy hired the best law firm in the state of Maryland—and there were plenty—but these guys had fangs. Mercedes saw the wisdom of simply giving the plaintiff a brand-new car.
“Wow.” She continued to scroll.
It became clear that Jason and Clare were responsible people, took good care of their customers, plus they had the advantage of selling two of the most reliable brands in the country, if not the world.
“She’s still scrolling. You’d think she’d go blind,” Mrs. Murphy remarked.
“Computer screens ruin your eyes,” Tucker declared.
“How do you know that? You don’t have one.” The tiger cat teased her friend.
“Fair read it out of the paper. He likes to read aloud and I remember everything he reads. You know now he turns to the obituaries first.” Tucker was mystified.
“He turned forty and that is important to them. He’s what, forty-three? I forget, but I think he’s one or two years older than Mother.”
“Sets them right off, doesn’t it?” Tucker laughed.
“Sure seems to, but this death thing, I mean I understand the obituaries, sort of. She likes to send sympathy cards and go to services. She’s respectful that way, but unexplained death, she gets obsessed.”
“Jason getting his throat cut, well”—the corgi tilted her head upward—“pretty awful and now this thing with Clare. She doesn’t believe that it was natural. You smelled everything.”
“If Clare was murdered, it had to be without scent and clever, something we don’t know about. But Tucker, humans do keel over.”
Mrs. Murphy stuck her head over the computer again. “She’s trying to find Clare’s service record. Shouldn’t take long. Can’t be that many Lazos in the Navy. No matter when.”
“Why?” Tucker wondered.
Harry whispered to herself and the cat called down. “Clare’s discharge. It was honorable and now she’s seeing all the awards Clare won. Do they call them awards in the service?”
Tucker thought. “They get to wear ribbons on the left sides of their chests. But I don’t know if that’s called an award. It’s pretty, though all the colors and certain of those little ribbons mean wars. Then there’s the stripes on their sleeves. Humans put a big store by this stuff.”
“So Clare did well?”
“As did the dealership. Everything seems to be in order.” Tucker knew Harry still wouldn’t let this go.
Then Harry returned to the Google information on Jason, returned again to Facebook. She peered intently at the photographs, noting that the same Russian translator appeared, as did his Turkish counterpart. Given the centuries of tension between Russia and Turkey, this seemed in order. Jason’s linguistic abilities had to have been critical in assuring U.S. interest in both nations remained stable. Even with her limited understanding of foreign relations, Harry began to see Jason’s usefulness to the country’s political interests as well as economic ones.
The bribery, the threats, the military forays over the centuries added to the needs and dreams of the nations surrounding Turkey. For a mad moment Harry thought about Catherine the Great bribing Turks, Greeks, anyone to open that wedge to what was then called Constantinople, now Istanbul.
How much money was squandered the world over to buy friends, information, to open the back door?
She was suddenly glad she didn’t know but so much.
Harry got up out of her chair, walked into the center aisle of the barn to pace. Up and down, up and down.
“Don’t watch her. You’ll get a crick in your neck,” Mrs. Murphy advised.
Hands behind her back, Harry stopped in front of the open tack-room door, took a big breath, strode in, sat down, and picked up the old phone.
“Jan. It’s Harry Haristeen.”
“How odd. Geoff and I were just talking about you. You have the unenviable distinction of seeing two corpses at Aldie. Geoff saw one. That was enough.”
“He thought she was asleep, passed out.”
“Here, you talk to him.”
A deep voice came on at the other end of the line. “Harry.”
“Mr. Ogden.”
“You have, of course, spoken to the sheriff, as have I.”
“Yes. Let me get to the point. I don’t believe Clare’s death was natural and I believe it was connected to Jason’s. I have no idea why these two people were murdered, but may I ask you some questions about the foreign service, about our State Department? I don’t think I’m using the correct terminology.”
“Doesn’t matter. Go on.”
“When you were general counsel in Istanbul, Jason Holzknect worked in Ankara, the capitol, right?”
“Yes. This was a good assignment for a young man, only his second assignment. His fluency in Turkish made him valuable.”
“So I assume he was low down on the totem pole?”
“Well”—a pause followed this—“yes, but to be assigned to the capitol of an ally is a plum posting.”
“What would his duties entail?”
“He would speak directly to his counterparts in the Turkish government. He could call and chat with probably another young person, and the two could set up meetings for their bosses. He would also be expected to read the newspapers, any official bulletins from the Turkish government. He could speak to any other ambassador’s assistant fluent in Turkish.”