Why Not Murder

4. Background

4. Background

"It's not only about this car. There are other events in the past I am sure are connected," Hudson was telling Maya when she came to his residence the following day, "The police think otherwise however. It's like they don't want to do anything beyond their routine work. Budget considerations, I wouldn't be surprised. I've received threatening letters. I'm an architect specializing in upscale design and renovation. Twice," he said with emphasis, "twice, my construction sites were bombed. That's when I realized the situation was escalating. Before it was prank phone calls, practical jokes and the like. Someone or some people are trying to terrorize me."

Hudson was walking Maya through his house and grounds. "Tell me about this car theft," Maya said.

"That evening I went to my office. I drove there in my SUV. It wasn't until the next morning that I saw my sports car was missing. My wife didn't use it. She has her own vehicle. There's the question about keys. The keys would have been in my desk. How did the thief get hold of them? My wife was at home when it happened and locks herself in when I'm out. She locks the doors and main windows of the house. She also locks herself into her own suite on the second floor. The cook and the two maids are live-in and their bedrooms are near the kitchen. The dog roams the grounds freely after sunset and has been trained to be vicious. Actually, one time someone did enter the grounds, on a different night of course, and was making for the house when the dog attacked him. He got away. The dog had ripped his clothing and bloody scraps were found including one on the fence he climbed over on the way out. Security cameras are everywhere and are monitored by the security company all hours. He was never apprehended."

"About your family, do you have any children?" Maya asked.

"No, not yet. That's the main reason I chose a young wife, but it's been two years now we've been married and trying and she's not pregnant yet. In fact, children are the reason I got married. Otherwise I see no point. Real love does not need the restrictions of ceremony to prove itself."

Hudson had shown Maya all the rooms of the house and only his wife's suite remained to be seen. He knocked gently at the door and called politely, "Winnie, are you there?"

"Yes," Winnie answered.

Hudson explained, "There's someone here you need to meet."

The door was opened and Maya saw the beautiful woman she had observed before, who was in shadow because the light was streaming in from large windows behind her.

"This is Maya Whitehawk and she's conducting a preliminary investigation for the insurance," Hudson said. "My wife, Winnie" he said to Maya.

"She needs to take a quick view of your suite," Hudson said to Winnie, "I trust you won't mind." Winnie opened the door wide and motioned to Maya to come in. The suite was small and exquisitely decorated. The door opened onto a studio which had a floor to ceiling bay window with golden curtains, an antique table that served as a desk with matching chair, a brilliant Persian rug and polished, gleaming floors. The bedroom was beside the studio and the bathroom beyond. Beautiful floral paintings, sixteen by twenty inches hung in an artistic arrangement on the walls. A painting in process was on a table easel with a palette of swirling colour beside it and all the rest of a painter's essentials. Winnie never once smiled as Maya took all this in. Winnie was wearing casual clothes for painting but Maya could see they were the most expensive of casual clothing. Several smears of red paint were smudged on the left sleeve of her mauve smock. Maya thanked Winnie for allowing the interruption and then Hudson proceeded to show Maya the grounds.

Two strong men were in the process of planting a tree and they respectfully removed their toques and nodded to Hudson and Maya. "The gardeners are here pretty much every day, excepting Sunday, from dawn until dusk and are given meals in the kitchen," Hudson said, "The grounds are under the direction of Winnie who has taste in these matters far better than mine. That's a Maple they are planting. Winnie wants lots of red in the Fall." They walked around the inside of the boundary fence and Maya could see that if someone befriended the dog at night, there were plenty of places and ways to avoid being caught on camera.

"What about extended family, any siblings, parents still alive?" Maya asked.

"I'm the youngest of four. The oldest two died in a traffic accident along with my parents when I was five," Hudson answered, "I was the favourite for justifiable reasons. Soon after I was born it was obvious my intelligence far surpassed my older siblings. I remember my parents saying 'Finally a child we can be proud of'."

"Rather harsh for your siblings," Maya commented.

"Sure, but those were different times. People could choose whether and when they wanted children, or so they believed. Sterility was not the problem it is now. We were all born during those years after birth control but before side effects were discovered. Genetic enhancement was not yet in use. My parents kept trying, I was told, because they were not happy with the other three. Then I was born and they didn't need to go through any of that aggravation, as they called it, again."

"What was wrong with the others?" Maya asked.

"Nothing by the usual standards, but there was nothing exceptional about them either. Too ordinary for my parents, I guess, who must have considered themselves to be of great worth to humanity. Doesn't make sense to me personally because I am quite sure that it was precisely my parents' thinking that caused my siblings to shrink below what they could otherwise achieve had they been encouraged. My parents were horrible bullies unfortunately. I won't be like that, which maybe is one reason I want to be a parent so badly. Is it really all about achievement, is everything else including happiness, kindness and all those other good things, of no value, except to the puppet masters who would have us all limp and numb unless they want to pull our strings? I try not to think about it and concentrate on creating the most utilitarian and beautiful homes on Earth."

"So they considered you exceptional and consequently worth their trouble," Maya said.

"Yes, I was running at six months, talking at one year, reading before two years and by five years, I was in grade seven. I went to a special school and had tutors of course because I was way too young for my scholastic level and my parents didn't want me getting beat up." Hudson replied. Maya thought all this quite interesting because she wasn't getting any impression of him being extraordinary now, other than he was wealthy, which she agreed with many others, was no indication of intelligence.

"Do you keep in touch with your surviving brother now?" Maya asked.

"No. After the accident, when he was eight years old, he ran away from home. We had been put in the care of a foster family as we had no other living relatives in the country. The house and all my parents' property of any worth was taken by the bank. He was found, three days later, in the ravine behind the foster home. He totally stopped talking, the head banging started and he effectively ignored everyone. He would only drink plain water and eat stale bread crusts. He spent all his time alone in a corner of our bedroom at the foster home and then when he was fourteen he ran away and I never heard from him again, nor did anyone else."

"That's tragic!" Maya exclaimed.

"Yes, his head was always swollen horribly from the banging," Hudson continued, "The irony, if you'll excuse the expression, was that before the accident he was the angriest of my three siblings towards my parents for their preferential treatment. But 'there's nothing wrong with choosing a favourite' my mother used to say and my father used to say 'no sense giving your pearls to pigs.'"

"What's his name?" Maya asked.

"Winton-Jones. Jones is his middle name and everyone called him by his first and middle names," Hudson answered, "I have no idea whether he is alive or dead or whatever happened to him, not that I miss him. He was always nasty to me when we were kids, from jealousy no doubt."

"What about professional competitors?" Maya asked.

"Of course I have them. How could excellence be achieved without competition?" Hudson said, "But we meet up regularly for cocktails and we're the best of friends, like-minds and all. I suppose it is possible that one of them could be responsible for this terrorist campaign against me. I am the best of the lot, but it does happen that they get enough work to stay in business."