J. Jance - Trial By Fire

“We’ll certainly be examining all of Mr. Cooper’s associations,” Robson assured Serenity as he finished making a series of notes. “We’ll also be looking into the possibility that regardless of the motivation in your mother’s attack, the person responsible is actively involved with the Earth Liberation Front.

“The fire in Camp Verde certainly resembles other ELF-related incidents we’ve investigated. It’s not textbook, but close enough to make us think they’re all of a piece. What we need to sort out is your mother’s connection to those people. It’s possible she somehow got too close to an ELF operative and, as a consequence, needed to be gotten rid of before she had a chance to pass any information along. That’s why it’s so important that we talk to her immediately.”

“No,” Hal Cooper declared from the far side of the room. “You’re not going to talk to her. Mimi’s in no condition to speak to anyone.”

Ali had seen Hal emerge from his wife’s room and step into the hallway. After stripping off his layer of antibacterial clothing, he had come silently down the hall to the entrance of the waiting room, where he had stood for some time, listening. Agent Robson hadn’t noticed him, and neither had Serenity and Winston.

“I’ve asked Mimi about what happened,” Hal continued. “So has Sister Anselm. She has suffered a serious head injury. She doesn’t remember anything at all.”

“What if she’s lying about that,” Serenity shot back, “or what if you are? You’ve got everything to gain. Why would you tell the truth about any of it? I want Mother to be able to talk to someone besides you and that nun. What about Agent Robson here? Why not let him talk to her?”

“No!” Hal’s second no was immediate and far more emphatic. “Mimi is not going to spend her last few lucid moments on this earth being interrogated by a cop.”

“Last few moments?” Serenity repeated. “Are you saying she’s dying?”

Hal Cooper met and held his stepdaughter’s questioning gaze. “Yes,” he said finally. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. That’s what the doctors told me this morning when they did rounds. Her organs are gradually shutting down. We’re going to lose her. It’s just a matter of time.”

Serenity was the first to look away. She plucked her cell phone out of her pocket, and the whole roomful of onlookers waited while she placed a call.

“It’s me,” she said finally into what was evidently an answering machine. “I thought you’d be here by now. Mother’s worse. I had several appointments scheduled for today and tomorrow down in Tucson. They’re in the calendar on the network. If you’re not coming here, you might want to drop by the office and cancel them for me.”

While she was speaking, Agent Robson stood up and stepped toward Hal Cooper, flashing his badge. “I’m sorry to hear that distressing news, Mr. Cooper,” he murmured comfortingly. “Believe me, my agency is totally committed to finding out who did this, and why. If we could have access to any information your wife may have given you, or if I could speak with her-”

“I already told you, I’m not giving you access to anything,” Hal responded. “Not to her, and not to me, either. I heard what you said a moment ago about looking into my “associations,” as you call them. I take that to mean I’m now under suspicion.”

Robson said nothing, so Hal continued.

“You’re welcome to your opinion. If you think I did it, fine. Do your worst to try to prove it, but since I was somewhere mid-Atlantic when all this went down, you’ll have a tough time pinning any of it on me. For right now, though, I’m not saying another word to you without an attorney present.”

Serenity had gone pale. “I want to see Mother,” she said. “If she’s dying, I need to see her. It’s not fair for you to lock us out.”

Hal focused his attention on Serenity and Winston. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m not going to deny Mimi the chance to see you, if that’s what she wants. The next time she comes out of the morphine fog, I’ll ask her. It’s entirely up to her. If she’s agreeable, I’ll let you come into the room for a few minutes, but I’m warning you. If either of you hassles her in any way-if you give her any kind of grief-out you’ll go, and you’ll have me to deal with. Understand?”

Winston nodded while his sister stared back at Hal with disdainful defiance. “But we’re her children!” she objected. “You have no right to deny us access to her.”

“I’m not denying you access,” Hal replied, “but I am stating the conditions under which that access will be granted. The decision to see you or not is entirely up to your mother, but once you step inside her room, it’s my call. If you say or do anything to upset her, I’ll send you packing.”

Ali was impressed by Hal’s forbearance and his ability to hold his temper in check in the face of Serenity’s hostility.

Up to now, Winston, apparently the weakest link in this family squabble, had been content to let his sister do all the talking. Now he voiced his own objection. “I was told Mother is on a ventilator. How can she tell you anything about who she wants to see and who she doesn’t want to see, to say nothing of what she remembers?”

“She can answer yes or no questions,” Hal replied. “That’s it.” With that, he turned to the nurses’ station. “I need to go by the hotel to walk my dog,” he said. “I’ve left word with Sister Anselm that no one is to be allowed in my wife’s room until I get back. I’m telling you that, too. That’s an order.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Cooper,” the charge nurse said.

With that Hal walked over to the elevator and pushed the Down button. While he waited for the elevator to arrive, he turned back to the room. “About that missing painting, Serenity,” he said, addressing his stepdaughter directly. “The Klee that was over the fireplace. Mimi has no intention of selling it at this time. If you have it, you’d by God better return it. If I find out that you’ve sold it without being authorized to do so, I’ll sue you within an inch of your life.”

Serenity looked genuinely stunned. “Mother’s Klee is gone? Are you kidding? That thing is worth a fortune.”

“Yes,” Hal agreed. “It is worth a fortune. I know that and you know that. It’s also very interesting to note that one painting is the only thing missing from the house.”

The elevator door opened. Hal Cooper stepped into it and was gone.

“What painting?” Agent Robson asked. “Something’s missing from the house? What is it, and why am I hearing about it now for the first time?”

Ali knew that the missing painting had been mentioned several times, but since a possible art theft didn’t fit in with Agent Robson’s preconceived notion about the crime, he had most likely disregarded it.

“I’ve been telling Mother for years that painting belonged in a museum somewhere and not in her living room,” Serenity fumed. “Most especially in the living room of a house where they leave the alarm off as often as it’s turned on.”

“What painting?” Robson asked again. “Is it valuable?”

Serenity gave him a scathing look. “It’s a Paul Klee,” she told him disdainfully. “Of course it’s valuable. It’s been in the family for years.”

“What’s a Paul Klee?” Robson asked.

Shaking her head impatiently at his apparent stupidity, Serenity continued. “Klee was a well-known Swiss-born painter-a cubist. He was born in the late nineteenth century and died in the early forties.”

“Never heard of him,” Robson said.

“He taught art at the Bauhaus,” Serenity added, warming to the topic. “Mother’s picture is one of his so-called Static-Dynamic Gradations. He did several during his years of teaching. The best known one is dated 1923. It’s in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Mother’s version is somewhat earlier than that. For some reason, he wasn’t thrilled with it. He signed it and then gave it to one of his students, an American girl named Phoebe Pankhurst.”