Parnell Hall - The Baxter Trust

“How do you know?”

Sheila stared at him. “Are you telling me my father isn’t dead?”

“No, I’m not.” He had no intention of burdening her with any of the details of Mark Taylor’s investigation. “I’m doing what you’re doing. I’m grasping at straws. I’m saying ‘what if?’ I’m considering any possibility, however remote, that anyone could benefit from your trust. So I asked about your father.”

She frowned. “I see.”

“And you told me you knew nothing.”

“That’s right.”

“Your mother never spoke of him?”

“I was four when she died.”

“Yeah. All right. What about your grandfather? Can you remember him at all?”

“Why?”

“I told you. I’m grasping at straws. Please?”

Sheila thought a moment. “I can’t remember much. I just remember him as a kindly old man. Funny, isn’t it? How a child’s take on things is so limited.”

“What do you mean?”

“Seeing Gramps as kindly. But as a child, that was the only side of him I ever saw.”

“And he wasn’t?”

She looked at him. “You read the trust.”

“Yes, yes, having to wait till thirty-five and that clause and all that. But you said that was the only side of him you ever saw. What was the other side? I mean back then, when you were a kid.”

“All I meant was the impressions you get when you’re young. Seeing him as kindly, and then later realizing what a tyrant he really was.”

“How? Give me an example. Tell me how you got this wrong impression.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It was just, he always treated my mother and me so kindly that I never really noticed how he treated Uncle Max and Uncle Teddy. Until later, I mean.”

“And how did he treat them?”

“With an iron hand. He surrounded them, stifled them. At the time I thought it was kindness. Now I realize it was domination.”

“Give me an example.”

She thought a moment. “All right. Grandpa had a summer house in Vermont.” She chuckled. “A summer house. Hell, it was a mansion-a huge building with a circular drive on this beautiful hillside in Vermont. It was gorgeous. My mother and I used to live there with him. I think I told you that, right?

“Well, anyway, when Uncle Teddy married, Gramps bought him a house on the property adjoining ours. See? At the time I thought that was nice. I say at the time. Actually it happened before I was born. Phillip’s a year older than I am, you know.”

“Yes, yes. Go on.”

“All right. I was just trying to say, when I said ‘at the time’ I just meant when I was young. Right? When I thought about it. Back then. And I figured Gramps was just being nice. Now I realize he was just making sure Teddy would be right there where he could keep an eye on him.”

“Yeah. I see. Teddy was wild in those days, wasn’t he?”

“I suppose so. I never realized it at the time. At least not until he went to jail. But I think Uncle Teddy and his wife had to get married. I think that was one of the reasons Gramps was so down on him.”

“What was Teddy’s wife like?”

“I don’t know. She died when Phillip was born.”

“So Uncle Teddy brought up Phillip alone?”

“Yes. Gramps wouldn’t even hire a nurse or governess to help out. Teddy had to cart Phillip around with him everywhere he went. It was a nuisance, but that’s what Gramps wanted. I think he felt the responsibility of raising Phillip would force Uncle Teddy to settle down.”

“Apparently it didn’t work.”

“Apparently not. Uncle Teddy went to jail. My mother died. Gramps died a year later. That left Uncle Max to bring up me and Phillip.”

“What was he like?”

Sheila looked at him. “What do you think?”

When court reconvened that afternoon, Dirkson stood up and said, “Call John Dutton.”

Sheila Benton twisted convulsively in her chair. “No!” she said.

Steve Winslow put his hand on her arm. “Easy.”

She grabbed his arm. “No, they can’t do that.”

“They can do that. He’s not your husband, he’s just your boyfriend. They can make him testify.”

“But-”

“Shhh. There’s nothing we can do. Just take it easy. It’s all right. If he loves you as much as you think he does, he’s not going to hurt you.”

“Just what do you mean by that?”

“Shhh.”

Heads turned as John Dutton walked to the stand. This was going to be delicious. The lover. The married man. The party to the late-night assignations testified to by Mrs. Rosenthal. And the thing was, he looked the part, too. Lean, tall, tanned, blond, and with that pretty-boy profile, John Dutton looked as if he might have just stepped off the screen of one of those beach-party movies. His entrance drew excited whispers from the crowd. This was going to be great.

“Your name?” Dirkson said.

“John Dutton “

“Occupation?”

“Stockbroker.”

“Mr. Dutton, are you acquainted with the defendant, Sheila Benton?”

“I am.”

“You are what might colloquially be called her boyfriend?”

John Dutton gave Dirkson what could only be considered a condescending smile. “I’m in love with her, if that’s what you mean.”

“It will do. Mr. Dutton, are you married?”

“Yes, I am. I am in the process of getting a divorce. When it is completed, I intend to marry Sheila.”

Dirkson smiled and nodded. “Thank you very much. Let me ask you this-did you know the decedent, Robert Greely?”

John Dutton appeared to wilt on the witness stand. Sheila let out a small gasp and grabbed Steve’s arm. A murmur ran through the courtroom.

Dirkson raised his voice. “Did you hear the question, Mr. Dutton? I’ll repeat it. Did you know the decedent, Robert Greely?”

Dutton wet his lips. “I had met him, yes.”

There was a reaction from everyone in the courtroom except Dirkson, who obviously had expected the answer.

“Under what circumstances, Mr. Dutton?”

“At a card game.”

“Did you meet him on more than one occasion?”

“Yes, I did.”

“When was the first time you met him?”

“I can’t remember.”

“About six months ago?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“And you have seen him several times since then?”

“I don’t know what you mean by several.”

“You tell me. How many times have you seen him?”

Dutton wet his lips again. “I got invited to a card game. It was a weekly card game. I began playing in it. Greely was a regular in the game. So I saw him on those occasions.”

“A weekly game?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re saying you saw the decedent once a week?”

“On those weeks we were both in the game. I didn’t go every week. He didn’t go every week. When I went, he was often there.”

“Did you ever see him outside of the game?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“Never. Well, I might have walked out at the same time when the game broke up, but other than that, no.”

“But you did see him at the games?”

“Yes.”

“And the first time was approximately six months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Dutton, an examination of your bank account reveals that during the last six months you have withdrawn over seven thousand dollars in cash over and above your usual expenditures. Is that true?”

The air in the courtroom suddenly became electric with anticipation. Harry Dirkson did nothing to spoil the effect. He just stood there, staring evenly at the witness, waiting for the answer.

John Dutton squirmed on the stand. “I… I would have to consult my records.”

“I have subpoenaed the records from your bank. I have them right here, if you’d wish to examine them.”