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“Which is?”
Lane explained about the reflection of the grandfather clock and the discrepancy it presented.
“So if you’re right, Arthur has no alibi for the time of the murders.”
“That’s the gist of it.”
Morgan swallowed hard. “What else?”
Here, Lane had to tread carefully, because of the restricted nature of his projects and his sources. “Over the years, I’ve had occasion to take on covert photographic assignments. I made a strategic phone call tonight to one of the clients affiliated with tho
se assignments, and I got some off-the-record answers.”
“Off-the-record?” Her brows arched. “What does that mean?”
“It means I have faith in my sources.”
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. What answers did your sources give you?”
“That Arthur pulled the strings when it came to orchestrating the B and E at your brownstone and the hurling of that brick at Monty’s car. He called in a few favors from someone who could arrange both—and the hit-and-run, which my guess was really a swerve-and-miss that went bad.”
“He was trying to scare me enough to call off the investigation.”
“Exactly.”
“He’s always encouraging me to back off. Of course he claims it’s because he’s worried about my state of mind. But if you’re right, it’s his ass he’s worried about.” Morgan raked a hand through her hair. “Let’s cut the semantics. You don’t think Arthur was peripherally connected with the murders. You think he was an active participant.”
“What I think is that there’s one more piece of information you should have. Thirty years ago, one of Lenny’s employees gave him a gun to keep at the deli for protection. It was a Walther PPK.”
Morgan paled. “That’s the kind of gun that killed my parents.”
“Yeah.”
“God.” Morgan pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “This just keeps getting worse.”
“The problem is, it’s all circumstantial.” Lane paused. “We still need a concrete motive. There are pieces missing. The question is, how many of those pieces can Monty supply, and how many did he learn, in confidence, from Barbara?”
Before Morgan could reply, her cell phone rang.
She grabbed it. “Hello?”
“Morgan? It’s Karly.” Her voice sounded faraway, and there was a hum of human voices, interspersed with louder intercom pages in the background. “I’m at the hospital. The cross-match is done; Jonah and his father’s blood are perfectly compatible. Jonah will be getting a transfusion within the hour.” She sounded weak with gratitude and relief, and Morgan wasn’t far behind.
“Thank goodness,” she breathed. “Is he okay?”
“He will be now.” Karly hesitated. “I got your message. I didn’t want you to think I was blowing you off. But the Vaughns have arranged for me to meet Jonah after the transfusion. And I just couldn’t pass up—”
“Of course not. You need to be there. I understand.” Morgan leaned forward. “Karly, we can talk later. For now, just tell me this. Did my mother know…everything?”
“Everything and everyone who was involved,” Karly confirmed. “I had no idea of that myself until today. She knew. Your father knew. What they did about it—that I don’t know. Talk to Detective Montgomery. Tell him he has my permission to share whatever he needs to with you. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to get you your answers. Then, after Jonah’s blood count is up, and he and I have had a chance to visit, I’ll sit down with you and fill in all the details. Maybe by sharing my experiences with Lara, I can bring you a little peace, maybe even a little joy.” A pause. “Your mother was a wonderful person. You should be very proud.”
“I am. Thank you, Karly. And have a wonderful first talk with your son.”
Morgan punched off the call and turned to Lane. “That’s one step closer to a motive. My mother knew the identity of the man Karly was involved with.” A weighty sigh. “The good news is, Jonah’s getting his transfusion. Arthur’s blood matched his. Hopefully, that’s a first big step toward complete recovery. Karly also said we should ask your father whatever we want answers to. Which means Monty met with her at some point, and she filled in some blanks. So maybe we can put our heads together.”
Breaking off, Morgan gave a dazed shake of her head. “I still can’t believe what I’m saying. The idea of Arthur killing my parents…I’m torn between denial and shock. Stuck somewhere in numb.”
“Let’s assemble all the evidence. That’ll make it easier for you to work through your feelings. And you won’t have to do it alone,” Lane assured her.
