Copycat Killing

16

Maggie was in luck. Peter was sitting at a table by the end wall at Eric’s, just finishing his lunch. He was dressed as though he’d just come from court, or somewhere equally formal. The jacket of his dark gray suit hung over the back of his chair, and his sandy hair was pulled into a ponytail. He’d loosened his striped tie and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt.

Claire showed us to a table and before we could sit down, Peter had gotten up and walked over to us. “Hello, Kathleen,” he said. He looked just a little uncomfortable to me, hands jammed in his pockets.

I smiled. “Hello, Peter,” I said.

He turned his attention to Maggie. “Hello, Maggie,” he said. “I heard about what happened to Jaeger Merrill. I’m sorry.”

Maggie stood perfectly still and straight and studied Peter for a long moment. “Why did you lie about who Jaeger was?” she said finally.

Just a hint of color flushed Peter’s cheeks. “He was my client.”

“Was it your idea for Jaeger—excuse me—Christian Ellis to start over here in Mayville Heights?”

Peter shook his head. “No.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “That case was my very first solo case. I’ve always wondered if I could have done better. Christian didn’t deserve the sentence he got. When he showed up here using a different name, looking for a new start, I didn’t see how it could hurt to let him have it. And it’s not as though anyone asked me if Jaeger Merrill was Christian Ellis.”

I thought about Ruby who had been so certain she’d recognized Jaeger from somewhere. What would have happened if she’d figured out who he really was when he was still alive?

“You’re splitting hairs, Peter,” Maggie said, her tone cool. “I vouched for Jaeger—excuse me—for Christian with Sam, so he could get studio space at River Arts”—she gestured to the counter—“and with Eric for a job, and with the other artists at the co-op, and it turns out I didn’t even know who I was speaking for.”

He slid a hand back over his hair. “I am sorry about that, Maggie,” he said. “Christian was punished more severely than anyone else in that scam.” He held up his hand. “I know he broke the law and I’m not excusing what he did, but he didn’t even realize what was going on in the beginning and when he did figure it out, he stayed in because he needed the money to take care of his sick mother.”

He shook his head and laughed. “I know it’s a cliché, but it’s the truth. Christian cooperated with the authorities when the whole scheme was exposed, he took responsibility and pled guilty, and then he ended up serving the most time because a judge threw out the plea deal.”

“He wouldn’t have had to serve any time at all if he hadn’t broken the law in the first place,” Maggie said.

Peter traced the edge of the table with a finger. “I know. But in the real world people make mistakes. And Christian didn’t kill anyone. He wasn’t selling drugs to kids. He faked paintings. I’m not saying it was a victimless crime, but…” He shrugged.

Mags took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know that,” she said. “And I don’t want to fight with you.”

He smiled, the first genuine smile I’d seen from the man since we’d walked into Eric’s. “Were we fighting?” he asked.

Maggie let that pass and answered Peter’s smile with one of her own. “Do you know who Jaeger’s executor is? There are boxes of his things at his studio and more at the store.”

“I don’t know for sure,” he said. “Probably me.” He looked at his watch. “I have to be in court this afternoon. Are those things going to be okay where they are for a day or so? I’ll see what I can find out.”

“They’re fine,” she said. “A lot of his stuff was packed in boxes already because of all the water.” Her face clouded over. “If it hadn’t rained so much, if those stairs hadn’t been wet…”

“It’s wet all over town,” Peter said. “What happened to Christian was just a stupid, careless accident. It could have happened to anyone. It could have happened to you.”

A shiver slid up my back. I remembered how Maggie had slipped on those wet, wooden steps when we’d found Jaeger, and almost ended up in the filthy water herself.

Peter looked at me. “I hear you had an accident out at Wisteria Hill. You’re all right?”

I nodded. “Yes, I am. Thanks.”

He held up his left hand. There was a large, bandage on most of the palm. “I did this in the parking lot of my own office.” He leaned sideways and looked out the front window of the restaurant. “At least it looks like the worst of the rain is over.”

He turned his attention back to Maggie. “I am sorry about all the turmoil Christian’s death caused for you. If there are any repercussions—for the co-op or you personally—call me. I’ll take care of anything that needs a lawyer, free of charge. And I’ll find out who his executor is.”

He pulled out a pen and a business card and wrote something on the back of the card before he handed it to her. “That’s my cell number on the back.” He looked from Maggie to me. “Enjoy your lunch,” he said and then he turned and went back to his own table.

“I have a question,” I said as we sat down. Claire was already on her way over with menus. We ordered and Claire poured me a cup of coffee, then she headed for the kitchen, detouring to top up Peter’s cup.

“What’s your question?” Maggie asked as I added cream to my coffee.

“Peter said that Christian Ellis was his first solo case.”

She nodded, pouring tea into a cup from the little pot Claire had brought her.

“That case would have been five or six years ago. How long has he been a lawyer?”

“Here in town? About four years or so. Peter worked in Chicago for about a year before that. The time frame fits.”

“He didn’t go to law school right away,” I said, sipping my coffee.

Maggie looked in the direction of the lawyer’s table. “Peter didn’t go to university right away. He didn’t even finish high school.”

“Seriously?” Peter Lundgren was so well spoken I never would have guessed he’d quit school. Being at the library and seeing what books people read, what music they liked to listen to, and what movies they were watching gave me a little peek into who they were. And often left me even more curious. For example, I’d learned that Peter liked heavy metal music, which didn’t exactly fit with my image of a lawyer.

“He’s literally a self-made man. There were ten kids in that family. Poor as dust. Peter quit school in ninth grade, went to work at a garage. Eventually he became a mechanic.”

She picked up her cup. “You’ll like this: he all but lived at the library in his free time. Eventually he got his GED. Then he got a scholarship to university. He did four years in three and got accepted to law school and he’s helping three”—she held up the corresponding number of fingers—“three of his younger siblings with college right now.”

“I guess it makes sense that he’d go to bat for Jaeger.”

Maggie gave me a half smile. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

Claire came back then with our sandwiches and more coffee and we stopped talking. I’d almost finished my sandwich—as usual Eric’s sourdough bread was better than any I made—when Sam Ingstrom, Mayville Heights’s mayor came in. He raised a hand in recognition to us and crossed to the counter. After he’d spoken to Claire he came over to the table.

“Hello Kathleen, Maggie,” he said. Sam didn’t look like a man who was almost seventy. He was heavier than he’d been in that high school photo I’d seen, but he was in good shape and there was still some dark hair mixed in with the gray.

“Hello, Sam,” I said. Maggie, whose mouth was full, just nodded.

“You know that the street’s clear and the library can reopen tomorrow?”

“I do,” I said. “Thank you.”

He studied my face and frowned. “I heard what happened at Wisteria Hill,” he said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “It looks worse than it is.” I seemed to be saying that a lot.

“Glad to hear it,” Sam said.

“You were friends with Tom Karlsson and Pearl Carver weren’t you, back in high school?”

He shook his head. “No. I mean I knew Tom, Mayville Heights was pretty small back in those days, so we all knew each other at school, and he was a star athlete, but we weren’t friends. I was a year younger. I barely knew Pearl at all.”

Sam wore his own high school class ring on his right hand. I noticed he was rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“I was surprised to hear those remains turned out to be Tom Karlsson,” Sam continued. “Everyone always figured he just ran out on his responsibilities. He was that kind of man.” He half turned. Claire had just come from the kitchen with what was likely Sam’s order in a take-out bag. He gave me his politician’s smile. “Good to see you, Kathleen,” he said. He nodded at Maggie and walked back to the counter.

I was so intent on watching Sam that I didn’t notice for a minute that Maggie was watching me. “You have that look,” she said.

I turned my attention to her. “What look?”

“That ‘something’s off’ look.” She set down her cup and pushed her plate away. “Sam said something that didn’t sit right with you.”

I leaned back in my chair, thinking of the photo I’d seen in that accordion file of old high school yearbook photos at the library. “He said he barely knew Pearl, which isn’t true. Why would he lie about that?”