The Crystal Muse

Chapter 7

The Mertice-Lindley homestead in Barnstable was a six-acre equestrian estate roughly split 60/40 into the primary residence, a beige and white two-story Federal-style house with climbing ivy, and the horse paddock. Although her dead husband's body hadn't been released by the jordans for burial yet, there had been a regular stream of visitors to the house to offer their condolences to Lelia about Steadman's murder. However, the two Bravo 7 Assault Runners flanking the driveway still stood out from the crowd of arriving and departing luxury cars both in terms of purpose of visit as well as vehicle design: Assault Runners tended to be part of the motor pools for the Boston Police and State Police Troop H and the barracks of State Police Troops A and D closest to the Boston area. Kersten and Drake stayed outside, trying to remain as unobtrusive as two individuals in riot gear could while walking around the yards in the immediate area of an expensive, upscale house on Cape Cod, while Hogan and Legato had gone inside to interview the family.

In the house's sitting room, Lelia sat on a couch looking dejected, flanked by a man and woman of roughly the same age. Hogan, who sat facing them on a dining room chair with his Posse Box balanced on his thigh, suspected one might be a sibling and the other the sibling's spouse, but no introductions had been made when he'd arrived with Legato, Drake and Kersten. A younger woman--Hogan figured a grown daughter or niece--brought out a bone china coffee service on a wooden tray from the kitchen and offered it around. Hogan declined, and so did Legato, who stood in an opposite corner of the room with his own Posse Box, while Lelia and her couchmates each poured themselves a cup. "Are you sure that we have to do this now?" she asked. "My aunt has been through a lot lately."

"Ma'am," Hogan replied, "if we're going to have any chance of nailing the scumbags who took your uncle from you, we need to ask these questions, as horrible and as badly timed as they may seem." Before he turned back to Lelia, he lifted the lid of the Posse Box and activated the digital audio recorder inside. The Mertice-Lindleys and their friends might not be suspects, but it didn't hurt to have a verbatim record of the interview. "Ma'am, are you sure your husband didn't have anybody in his life that would want to see him come to harm? Any business partners ticked off about a deal he may or may not have made, people he might have inadvertently cut off in traffic, that sort of thing?" His pencil hovered over the notepad clipped to the front, waiting to take additional notes.

Lelia poured a couple ounces of milk or creamer into her coffee cup and stirred in a spoonful of sugar before taking a sip. "I really wouldn't know about any business problems Steadman may have been having lately. I never took much interest in his day-to-day affairs."

"If he did have any business problems," the man sitting next to her remarked after his own drink of coffee, "he never said anything about it to us."

"We might have to make a trip to his office, then," Legato commented.

"One thing at a time, Jimmy," Hogan said over his shoulder. "We noticed all those paintings you have in the corridor when you showed us in, Mrs. Mertice-Lindley. How long have you and your husband been collecting?"

Lelia dabbed at her mouth with a cloth napkin. "Steadman's family has been a patron of the arts ever since the Civil War. They felt that doing so was a duty, to help the healing process between the North and the South by fostering creative expression." She took another sip of coffee. "Although I doubt the unwashed ruffians of the former Confederacy appreciated the effort."

"And now Steadman tried to emulate his forebears by attending the MFA Reopening party." Hogan allowed himself a smile. "Ma'am, Detective Legato and I were both in the Riot, and believe me when I say that your extended family's efforts are very much appreciated by those who recognize them for what they are."