Coulson's Crucible Read online

  “I know it was in this morning’s newspaper, but there was no mention about the body’s identity,” Carmichael commented, eyeing Randall with suspicion.

  Randall chuckled and sat back down in his chair. “True, but the police chief called me when they found him. Of course, it could be someone else, despite the fact he had Marino’s wallet on him.”

  Stephens almost asked, why would the police chief call you about the body? But then he caught himself. It was a foolish question. One thing he and Carmichael had discovered since coming to Coulson ten years earlier was that Randall Coulson owned the town and the police chief.

  “Is this about that body that was found by the lake yesterday?” Garret asked.

  “What body?” Shelly gasped.

  “It was in this morning’s newspaper,” Russell explained.

  “I didn’t read the newspaper,” Shelly told him.

  “So who was he?” Garret asked, now curious.

  “And you are?” Carmichael asked.

  “This is my son, Garret. Garret, this is Agents Carmichael and Stephens. They’re with the F.B.I.” The men shook hands as Harrison made the introductions around the room. When he got to Russell, Harrison added, “And my son Russell, you’ve already met. Although I don’t imagine he is as you remember.”

  “Now I’m feeling old.” Carmichael chuckled as he shook Russell’s hand.

  “I still don’t understand, what is this about?” Garret asked after introductions were made.

  “It’s about this man,” Agent Stephens reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a photograph of Anthony Marino. He handed it to Garret.

  “Is this the guy they found?” Garret asked.

  “We believe so,” Stephens said.

  “Hey, I know this guy,” Garret said. All eyes shifted to Garret. Vera glanced warily to her husband but said nothing.

  “You know him?” Stephens asked,

  “Well, not really.” Garret chuckled. “I suppose the statutes of limitations‎ have expired, so no reason to keep it a secret.” He handed the photograph back to Stephens who was clearly intrigued about what Garret had to say.

  When Garret glanced up after handing the photograph back to Stephens, he noticed everyone was staring at him.

  “He bought me booze,” Garret said with a shrug.

  “Excuse me?” Carmichael asked.

  “I must have been sixteen. Met him in the parking lot of the liquor store and he offered to buy me and my friends some beer and wine. I remember him because when I tried to pay him for buying it, he wouldn’t take my money. I paid for the booze of course, but he wouldn’t take anything extra. He even told me where he was staying, and if I ever needed someone to buy, just let him know.”

  “Did you ever go to his motel room?” Carmichael asked.

  “No. Never saw him again. So what’s the deal with this guy? My grandfather said something about a hitman?” Garret didn’t notice the relief on his mother’s face, yet Agent Stephens did.

  “That’s why we were originally looking for him. We believe he was involved with a hit in Reno. But now we’re trying to find out who killed him,” Stephens explained.

  “Can I see his photograph?” Sonny asked. Stephens handed Sonny the picture.

  Randall watched as his eldest grandson looked at the picture then handed it to Russell.

  “I understand you met Marino,” Carmichael directed his question to Sonny.

  “I did?” Sonny frowned, then snatched the picture from Russell and took a second look. He shook his head as if he didn’t remember.

  “Your father told me you were at a restaurant having dinner and this man sent over a bottle of champagne to your table. This would have been back in October, 1960.” Carmichael explained while he eyed Sonny curiously.

  “I can only remember that happening once, when we were at the Roseville. Might have been him. Right time, a week or so before I left for Europe. But I don’t really remember him, sorry.”

  “Do you remember what he talked about when he came to your table?” Carmichael asked.

  “I barely remember him. Sorry. I do remember I was pretty excited about going to Europe so if he had some conversation with my parents or grandfather that night, you probably should ask them. I barely remember the champagne.”

  “Perhaps we could speak privately with Mrs. Coulson,” Stephens asked.

  “Me, why?” Vera frowned.

  “I just think it might be more comfortable for you if we do this in private,” Stephens explained.

  Harrison started to object, but Vera reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “It’s all right, dear. Let me go answer the gentlemen’s questions, and then we can finish saying goodbye to Russell.” She turned to face the agents. “I trust this won’t take long, my son is leaving in a few minutes, and I don’t imagine I’ll see him again for a few months.”

  Instead of leaving the sunroom, all but Vera and the agents moved to the living room.

  “Can you tell us about the note your son brought you from Marino,” Carmichael asked.

  “It just said he could get me a great deal on a pair of diamond cufflinks for my husband.”

  “And why would he have offered to get you a deal on cufflinks?” Carmichael asked.

  “I assume for the same reason he sent over the champagne. He wanted to ingratiate himself to my husband and father-in-law.”

  “But if he wanted to do that, why would he send a private note to the wife and daughter-in-law of the men he wanted to ingratiate himself with? I would imagine that might anger most men, having a stranger send a note to his wife.”

  Vera smiled sweetly. “I’ve found people often go out of their way to be nice to me, believing in some way I’ll then influence my husband in their favor. It’s really not that uncommon. And I’ll confess the offer intrigued me. Of course, Harrison found the note that afternoon and pointed out the cufflinks would probably be stolen merchandise. I felt a little foolish and tore up the note.”

  “And you had never met Marino before? Or saw him after he sent over the champagne?”

  “No, never.” Vera continued to smile.

  “I understand you hurt your ankle about this time. From what I recall, you were gone when we came to interview your youngest son.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “I assume you saw a doctor, before you left?” Stephens asked.

  “Yes, I did. Doctor Philips, he came to the house. He was such a dear man.”

  “Was?” Carmichael asked.

  “Doctor Philips passed away about five years ago.” Vera continued to smile sweetly.

  “Where did you say you went for the therapy treatment for your ankle?” Stephens asked.

  “Oh, I really don’t recall the name of the clinic. It was so long ago. But you can ask my husband.”

  “What’s with all the questions about the ankle?” Carmichael asked as the two agents walked to their car.

  “I guess you missed it. But when the middle son said something about knowing the guy, you should have seen his mother’s expression. What really got me was her look of relief after he told his story.”

  “From what I’ve learned about the family, he’s been the wild one. Maybe she was afraid he’d gotten involved with the guy back then.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.”

  Both men got into a dark sedan and closed the doors. Carmichael started the engine and began driving down the long, steep driveway leading from Coulson House to the street.

  “You think there was something between Mrs. Coulson and Marino?” Carmichael asked.

  “When we looked into the Coulsons ten years ago, it didn’t take much to find out they slept in separate bedrooms, and he had a string of mistresses. Knowing Marino, someone like Vera Coulson would catch his eye, especially if he thought she was a neglected wife.”

  “So why send champagne to their table?”

  “The same reason he loved to taunt us after a hit. But y
ou know what I find interesting?”

  “What?”

  “I find it interesting Vera Coulson used the same word as her husband did, when we originally interviewed him. Both she and her husband said Marino was trying to ingratiate himself to them.”

  “You think she was coached?” Carmichael asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “Well, what I found interesting was that Harrison Coulson remembered our names after all these years.”

  “I gave the maid a business card when she answered the door,” Stephens reminded.

  “Didn’t you notice, she looked at the card and then set it on a table in the entry. She didn’t take the card with her. Plus, you gave her your business card, not mine. I guess this means we should have looked closer after they found the car.” Carmichael sighed.

  “We both thought it there was a possibility Marino dumped his own car in the lake.”

  “I know.”

  “I just wish we could talk to Vera Coulson’s doctor.”

  “Yeah, like he would really talk to us even if he was still alive,” Carmichael snorted.

  “I’d like to know what clinic she stayed at, and if it was really for a broken ankle,” Stephens said.

  “Why, what are you thinking?” Carmichael asked.

  “Marino had a history of smacking around his women. We know he probably killed his second wife and her lover, and his last wife disappeared with his kid. She was tired of being a punching bag. Maybe Mrs. Coulson got in a little too deep and her husband or father-in-law cleaned up her mess.”

  “I suppose that’s possible but we have absolutely no proof, and if we go snooping around or trying to check out the clinic, it’ll be our asses. Old man Coulson has some pretty influential friends in Washington.”

  “I know.” Stephens sighed and looked out the car’s side window, watching the Coulson landscape roll by. “And I suppose whoever iced Marino did us all a favor. Although for curiosity’s sake, I would love to know what happened.”

  “Well, we have one more stop,” Carmichael reminded him.

  “You want to go now?”

  “Might as well, then we can wrap this up and head home.”

  Someone was ringing his doorbell. He wondered briefly if his daughter had forgotten her key. She had gone down the street earlier to see what Santa had brought her best friend. Opening the front door, it wasn’t his daughter but two young men wearing grey business suits. Those who visited him this time of year normally wore jeans and parkas.

  Glancing past the men, he noted the sky over Clement Falls was clear, yet there were still some patches of snow on the ground.

  “Nick Carracci?” One of the men said. Nick squinted; he’d forgotten to put on his glasses. The men looked familiar.

  “Yes,” Nick answered.

  “Hello, I’m Agent Carmichael and this is Agent Stephens…” before Agent Carmichael finished saying his name, Nick remembered. It was those G-men looking for his brother-in-law.

  “I know who you are,” Nick interrupted the introductions.

  “Do you think we could talk inside?” Carmichael shivered. “It’s pretty cold out here.”

  Nick didn’t answer immediately. Finally, he opened the door wider so the two men could walk in. He showed them to the parlor, where they each took a seat.

  “I believe we found your brother-in-law,” Carmichael told him.

  “I wondered if it was Anthony. When I read the article in the newspaper about them finding a body near the area where they found his car, I thought it might be him.”

  “We haven’t made a positive I.D. yet.”

  “So why are you here?” Nick asked.

  “The last time we were up here and spoke to your wife…” Carmichael began.

  “My wife died,” Nick interrupted. He remembered their last visit, when they had interviewed him and Gina. While she wanted them to find her brother, there was much she wouldn’t tell them. Nick didn’t want to upset his wife; her health was failing, so he had said little.

  “Yes, we understand, and we’re sorry for your loss. But we hoped that perhaps you might have remembered something about your brother-in-law’s last visit that you forgot to tell us before. I remember your wife was quite upset he was missing, but she told us very little about his visit here or if he had any friends locally.”

  “I never liked my brother-in-law, but Gina loved her brother. I have to admit, he was always very good to her. But I saw how he treated his wife, and I heard stories. I didn’t trust his friends.”

  “He had friends here?” Stephens asked.

  “No, back where we came from, he didn’t have any friends here, not that I know of.”

  “Why was he visiting you?” Carmichael asked.

  “Gina said he was just here to see her, but I overheard them talking. He told her he had to lay low for a while, that he’d pissed someone off back home, but he promised her it would blow over.”

  “Why would he have told her anything?” Stephens asked.

  “She still had friends back home who she kept in touch with. He didn’t want her to say anything about his visit when she talked to them.”

  “Why did he leave Clement Falls? Why move down to Coulson and rent a room?” Carmichael asked.

  “He told me he didn’t want to deal with the snow. It was October when he left, and we normally start getting snow in December, sometimes November.”

  “And what did he tell his sister?” Stephens asked.

  Nick considered the question for a minute.

  “Nick, you didn’t see how he looked at her, Mrs. Coulson,” Gina had told him after her brother left the mountain. “He’s going to get himself in trouble, I know it.”

  “I think he was bored at Clement Falls. There isn’t much to do up here, and he figured he could lay low in Coulson as well as here.” Nick didn’t lie; he just didn’t see a reason to drag an important woman like Mrs. Coulson into his brother-in-law’s mess.

  “So he never mentioned to you or your sister, anyone he knew or wanted to get to know. A woman perhaps?”

  Nick didn’t answer immediately; he just stared at the two agents. Finally, he answered.

  “No. He never mentioned anyone.”

  Back in their vehicle, Carmichael and Stephens headed down off the mountain.

  “We really don’t have anything to support a connection between Vera Coulson and Anthony Marino. If you think about it, all we have is Marino sending champagne, Marino sending a note. We have absolutely nothing to indicate the Coulsons initiated or encouraged a relationship with the man. Aside from an unused condom Keller threw away, we don’t even know if Marino was seeing any woman,” Carmichael said.

  “I suppose you’re right. We haven’t interviewed a single person who claims to have seen Marino even talking with any of the Coulsons. The most logical conclusion, Marino didn’t lay low enough, and his past caught up with him.”

  Chapter 31

  By the second week of the New Year 1971, Ryan and Tommy had returned to the dorm at the state college, and Russell was back at Harvard. Sonny and Shelly had gone home to Chicago, where Sonny worked at Coulson Enterprises’ Chicago division. Although Sonny continued to have limited responsibilities with the family business, his interview with the FBI agents impressed his grandfather.

  While Harrison Junior possessed no business savvy, Randall began envisioning a different future for his eldest grandson—politics—where Randall pulled the strings. He wondered if it was perhaps time to get Harrison properly wed and back in Coulson.

  The story of a reported hitman’s body being found up by Sutter’s Lake kept the locals buzzing for a few weeks, but by Saint Patrick’s Day, Marino was a distant memory. Aside from the Kellers and the Coulsons, no one in town remembered seeing the man. Most assumed he was simply passing through, and whoever was responsible for his death was probably someone from Anthony Marino’s past, with no connection to Coulson. All assumed the killers were long gone. Even Russell and Garret, who
had met the man, had a limited memory of him. Anthony Marino left no lasting impression on either brother.

  Vera sat at her dressing table brushing her hair before going to bed when a knock came at her bedroom door.

  “Come in,” she called out. Setting the brush on the marble tabletop, she turned to see who it was. Harrison walked in, closing the door behind him.

  “I thought you were going to the club tonight?” Vera asked, surprised to see her husband still at home.

  “No, I didn’t feel like going. Plus, I wanted to talk to you.” He lingered by the closed door.

  “Come, please sit down.” Vera pointed to the empty wicker chair by her bedside. Picking up her brush, she turned to face the mirror again. Harrison walked over to the wicker chair and sat down. He watched Vera brush her hair. She was still a beautiful woman, much younger looking than her actual years.

  “I thought you’d like to know, Dad spoke to some friends of his in the Bureau.”

  Vera put the brush down again and turned to face Harrison.

  “The FBI?” she asked.

  “Yes. They haven’t any new leads on Marino’s death. They’re fairly certain someone from his past was responsible. But with no new leads, they’re looking at it as a cold case. It doesn’t look as if they plan to put much effort into finding who’s responsible.”

  “Now what?” Vera asked.

  “I suppose we go on like we always have,” Harrison said.

  “I don’t know if I can,” Vera whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know our marriage started off all wrong. And it was my fault.”

  “That’s not true, Vera.”

  “You didn’t want to marry me. That was pretty obvious.”

  “I was young. So were you. There were things I didn’t understand back then, things about you, about myself.”

  “And you understand now?” she asked.

  “Not everything, but yes, I think I understand better now. For a while, after Harrison was born, I thought things were going to work out for us. But then Garret was born and you pushed me away. And after Russell was born, you made it clear you didn’t want me in your bed again.”