The Man Who Wasn't All There David Handler (digital book reader .txt) 📖

worn the other day, a white shirt and muted tie. ‘How does that nasty bump on your head feel?’ he asked me, not unkindly.

‘Better, thanks. No more dizzy spells.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ He turned back to Tedone. ‘What have you got?’

‘We have to re-think why Austin Talmadge’s throat was slashed.’

‘Explain.’

‘Our working theory was personal revenge. He’d pissed off a lot of people in his time. But Michael, who inherited Austin’s billions, didn’t have an enemy in the world – except for Austin, that is. Now that Michael’s throat has been slashed, too, we have to face the likelihood that this is entirely about the Talmadge fortune. Who stands to inherit it?’

Colin Fielding cleared his throat. ‘There were cousins by the carload,’ he said in his slightly nasal voice. ‘But none of them come into a penny of it.’

‘So who does?’

Mitry leaned forward and tapped his driver on the shoulder. ‘Mind stepping out for a few minutes, Sergeant?’

The driver got out and we got in – Tedone behind the wheel, me in the passenger seat with Lulu between us. Tedone and I both turned sideways, the better to look back at the tall, imposing deputy superintendent and the governor’s small, slightly built personal envoy.

Mitry glanced over at him. ‘Have something more you want to say?’

Fielding cleared his throat again. ‘There’s a reason the governor was involved in “pulling the ripcord” on Austin the other day.’

‘Damn, I was really hoping I’d never have to hear that expression again,’ I said.

‘And there’s a reason why I’m here this morning on the governor’s behalf,’ he continued, ignoring me. ‘He and Michael Talmadge had a very special relationship. Went to prep school and Princeton together, which not many people know because they seldom spent time together in public. But, in private, they shared a common interest.’

I studied him across the seat. ‘Which was …?’

‘Something they’ve been working on together, with my assistance, for quite a while. Michael was fifty-two years old. What very, very few people know is that on the day he turned fifty-five, he intended to divest himself of most of his vast fortune – which amounted to approximately twenty-eight billion dollars depending upon the ups and down of the world markets – sell this house and live the remainder of his life on a much more modest scale. He told the governor that all he wanted to do was sit and read the books that he’d never had time for. He kept a list of authors in a little leather notebook in his desk. Your people will find it. There was Anthony Trollope. There was Henry James, Somerset Maugham, Ford Maddox Ford, Joseph Conrad and more than a dozen others. He intended to read a novel per week for the rest of his life, seated in a comfortable chair drinking hot cocoa. He also wanted to travel. He’d never been to London, Dublin or Edinburgh. Those were the three destinations at the top of his list. He was afraid to fly. So he intended to go by boat. Or tramp steamer, as he liked to call it.’

‘And what about all of his money?’ Tedone asked with a slight edge of impatience in his voice.

‘It so happens that the governor is the executor of Michael’s estate. Michael’s last will and testament is tucked away in the safe in the study of the governor’s mansion. It was Michael’s wish to leave his fortune, which I’d estimate now exceeds forty billion dollars with Austin’s passing, to the state of Connecticut for the betterment of its public school system – elementary through high school – so as to make it the gold standard of the nation. Michael Talmadge was an interesting man. Politically conservative by nature. But it bothered him greatly when President Reagan’s tax cuts began to starve our public schools to the point where teachers had to buy their own classroom supplies. He also thought that Connecticut’s state university system should not only be greatly expanded but tuition free for all in-state high-school students who wished to attend and had graduated with a B-average. Students who’d only managed to graduate with a C-average would be able to attend one of a dozen or more newly built community colleges, tuition free, and if they maintained a B-average for a full academic year they’d be eligible to move up to a state university. And there was more. He wanted better-funded state institutions for the elderly and the mentally ill, so that they could live with dignity. He also wanted to build a network of low-cost walk-in clinics throughout the state where the working poor could get access to affordable health and dental care. He was, in his own quiet way, quite a forward-thinking man. He and the governor had already roughed-out an agency to administer the programs he had in mind. Absolutely no one knew a thing about it. Michael wanted it that way.’ Fielding paused. ‘But there’s no reason not to keep it under wraps now. It’ll be made public soon enough.’

‘Is there any reason to believe that there’s a connection between Michael’s plans and these murders?’ Tedone asked him.

‘I don’t see how. He hadn’t told a soul besides the governor and me.’

‘What about Austin?’

‘Austin didn’t know a thing about it,’ Fielding replied. ‘No, I don’t see any connection. I think someone out there had a personal reason for wanting Austin dead and then was put in the position of having to kill Michael because Michael could identify him. But that’s just my personal opinion.’

‘Not a shabby one at that,’ conceded Tedone, studying the governor’s man with newfound interest.

‘What about resentment?’ Deputy Superintendent Mitry wondered aloud. ‘An angry relative who hated Michael and Austin for not sharing the family fortune?’

‘A ton of people in Lyme were related to them,’ I said. ‘But it was Michael and Austin’s father, a relentless business titan, who made most of those billions. And he didn’t share them with anybody. He left them to his two sons, period. My sense