Bloody Genius (Virgil Flowers, #12)(50)

That was all she had, but Virgil had now connected Foster to the Quill murder. There could be two reasons for Foster’s investigation: he was trying to clear Green and her department or he was monitoring the investigation to see if the cops were getting close to somebody. Or both.



* * *



—

One way to find out.

Fifteen minutes after he left Thomas, Virgil pulled into the parking lot at Regions Hospital and took the elevator up to Foster’s floor, walking through a hospital smell that might be alcohol that was the same in every hospital. When he looked into Foster’s room, he found a nurse hand-feeding him. Foster said, “You’re back . . . I’ll be a couple more minutes here . . .”

“Take your time,” Virgil said. He asked the nurse, “What causes the hospital smell? That makes all hospitals smell alike?”

“They don’t all smell like that anymore. It was caused by disinfectants, maybe urine. A combination. I don’t even smell it anymore.”

“Huh.”

When Foster had finished the last of the lime Jell-O and the nurse had gone, Foster said, “Thanks for the visit. It’s nice of you, but it’s not necessary.”

“This is not exactly a social visit.”

“I figured that out about three seconds after you came through the door, the look on your face,” Foster said. “What happened?”

“One of my sources told me that you’re conducting your own private investigation into the Quill murder,” Virgil said. “Since you got jumped, you might have touched a live wire. I want to know what it is. I’d like to know why you didn’t mention this the first time I was here.”

Foster closed his eyes and blew out air. Then, “That fuckin’ Sandy. I told her not to talk to anyone about it. I wouldn’t have talked to her, except I had one beer too many. I gotta quit drinking.”

“Not a bad idea, but Sandy who?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Virgil. I know and you know that Sandy and I are in bed sometimes, and you already talked to her,” Foster said. “She’s the only one who knew about me poking around.”

“I can’t—”

“I’m sore enough without getting a headache because you’re bullshitting me,” Foster said. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about it since I got beat up and I don’t know what live wire I might have touched. I really don’t.”

“Who all did you talk to?”

“A few people in Cultural Science, the ones who seemed most outraged by the feud. Also, Megan Quill, because I thought she had the most to gain,” Foster said. “Her father had a house that’s got to be worth a million, plus a family fortune that’s worth way more than the house. After I talked to Megan, I, mmm, saw a copy of Quill’s will and according to its terms Megan gets exactly what she’s already getting, for the same amount of time. In other words, her trust fund continues until she’s thirty, and that’s it. She gets it whether or not Quill lives or dies.”

“I knew that. What else?”

“I was doing, uh, some research into his wife, who would have gotten hurt if the divorce had gone through. There was a tough prenup. His wife would get a hundred thousand dollars for each year they were married. There were smaller amounts for his first and second wives, and all the rest would have gone to a Quill Foundation, which would provide grants for medical research. Now with him dead while they were still married, the wife will most likely get half. I’m not exactly sure how much that would be, but I’d guess between fifteen and twenty million.”

“How were you doing this research? On the wife?” Virgil asked.

“On the internet. I’m not going to say any more about that,” Foster said. “I’d need to talk to a lawyer, and probably I’d need both federal and state immunity from prosecution.”

“You hacked somebody,” Virgil said. “Tell me this: does the information you hacked about his wife seem to suggest any level of guilt for the murder?”

“No. It doesn’t, other than the fact that she’d benefit,” Foster said.

“Hmm. I’ll have to take your word for it, and I will, unless I find something that tells me you’re lying. If that happens, you won’t like what follows.”

“Thanks a lot, pal. Look, I’m not even sure I broke any laws, but I’m not taking a chance,” Foster said. “Anyway, you should be thinking about what facts I found, not about what methods I used. I’ll tell you everything about what I uncovered but not how.”

“What else did you do?”

“I followed the wife around for a couple of days. I wanted to see if she had a relationship—because if she did and it was serious, then that guy might be looking at a major payday.”

“What came out of that?”

“She wasn’t exactly dating, but she went to dinner with a guy, a lawyer named Jared Miles, a couple of times. And twice to lunch,” Foster said. “They seemed friendly, but he never stayed overnight. And it’s possible that they were talking about the will. But he was age-appropriate, and they were . . . friendly.”

“Interesting. How’d you get his name?”

Foster thought for a moment, then said, “Miles picked her up at her house.”