The Twelfth Child (Serendipity #1)(54)

She shook her head.

“Any witnesses to her writing this?”

“Me.”

“No one else, just you?”

She nodded.

Charles started jotting notes on a legal pad. “Without someone to substantiate that Miss Lannigan actually wrote this, it won’t do us much good. We need witnesses to verify your relationship – people who can attest to the fact that you and she were close enough to warrant a bequest such as this.”

“She didn’t have any family and no close friends that I know of.”

“What about people she came in contact with on a regular basis? Shopkeepers? Bankers? A nurse or cleaning lady, maybe?”

“No nurse,” Destiny said, “I took care of Miss Abigail when she got bad sick.”

“How about her doctor?”

“Uh-huh.” Destiny nodded. “Doctor Birnbaum knows we were real close.”

Charles made note of Doctor Birnbaum’s address and telephone number, then he moved on to questions about friends or possibly even other relatives. I must say, for a young fellow with such a casual look about him, he seemed to be quite thorough and Lord knows Destiny was in need of all the help she could get. I wish she knew about the letter I wrote Gloria last year, it would have helped to set things straight.

In all, Charles spent almost two hours asking Destiny questions about one thing and another, then after she left he got on the telephone and called the detective. “Shouldn’t this be handled as a civil case?” he asked, but Tom Nichols indicated it was open-ended as to exploitation of the elderly and the issue of forgery.

“Actually,” Tom said, “Broadhurst is pushing for an arrest warrant.”

“On evidence this thin?”

“Thin? She’s got a new Thunderbird, purchases up the wazoo –”

“Maybe so, but there’s no priors, no obvious intent.”

“You met the nephew? Tom asked, then continued on without waiting for an answer. “This guy’s a real hard ass.”

“Emerson? What claim has he got? There’s no involvement with the deceased. Abigail Lannigan even told people he wasn’t a relative.”

“Well, he is.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. We did a trace. The jerk’s great grandfather was William Lannigan.”

“Shit,” Charles McCallum said. There was a few moments of silence then he suggested, “Let me dangle a carrot for the guy – suggest if he flips it over to a civil suit, he’ll stand a better chance of getting the money back.”

“What about the forgery? Exploitation?”

“No court is gonna go along with those charges. Fairchild has a credible story, she was taking good care of the woman and I’ve got witnesses that’ll swear Abigail Lannigan gave her the authority to sign checks.”

“Broadhurst wants her for grand larceny.”

“Oh, come on!” Charles McCallum replied. “The best you can possibly hope for is fraud. With no priors, she’d get probation.”

They dickered back and forth for almost a half hour and in the end agreed to a face-to-face conference, including both Destiny and Elliott Emerson.




Elliott was first to arrive at the meeting, which didn’t surprise me one little bit, seeing as to how he was so fired up about getting hold of my money. When Destiny entered the room, he didn’t stand as most gentlemen would, but scrunched deeper into the chair and glared across the table with the look of a man ready for a fight. Tom Nichols, who was standing alongside of Elliott , nodded and gave Destiny a pleasant enough smile, then he reached across the table and shook hands with Charles McCallum.

Once the negotiations got underway, the nastiest side of Elliott came through. “She’s a thief,” he shouted, “a thief! Look what she’s done to my aunt – stole her house, her car, her money! She belongs behind bars! In prison for life!”

“That’s not likely to happen,” Detective Nichols replied in the calmest voice imaginable. “So, cool down and let’s discuss some realistic alternatives.”

“Realistic alternatives?” Elliott grumbled. “I suppose it’s realistic that she won’t even tell me where she’s hidden the money!”

Charles McCallum’s expression suddenly looked like a bonfire had sprung up inside of his head – I could tell he was on to something. He began bringing up points of law, hammering at how they’d have to first prove intent to defraud. “Pursuing this issue in criminal court,” he said looking straight at Elliott, “would provide punishment only if Destiny Fairchild is found guilty of an actual crime. “However,” he strung the word out as if dessert was about to be served, “if you elect to drop the criminal charges and pursue this as a civil action, my client would be required to answer interrogatory questions as to the amount and whereabouts of any assets in question.”

Elliott’s eyes lit up.

Now I could see where Charles was heading. “So,” he continued, his face still fixed square to Elliott, “while you have the right to pursue this along either pathway, you should decide which is more important – her punishment or the restitution of any assets that may be judged legally yours.”

“That true?” Elliott asked Tom Nichols. “She’s gotta say where the money is?”