Confessions of a Murder Suspect

33

Uncle Peter was quickly ejected from the room by Harry, of all people, who remembered that our uncle hated Brahms with a passion and so started banging out some Hungarian Dances—allegro—on the piano as Peter tried to finish his call to Caputo.

When Uncle Peter stood up to leave the room and complete the call elsewhere, Hugo helped speed his departure by taking a running start and head-butting him. Hugo wasn’t about to tolerate anyone bad-mouthing his hero like that. And the boy is strong. It worked like a dream.

“Okay, now that the vermin is gone,” Matthew said, “we need to talk about something important.”

“What? Do you have new information?” I asked eagerly. “About who might have done this?”

“No. It’s about the funeral.” Matthew swallowed. It was interesting to see him falter for a moment at that word. Then he quickly collected himself and resumed his big-brother-in-charge tone. “We have to figure out who’s doing the eulogy.”

We all stared at one another. That had been the furthest thing from our minds.

“Well, obviously not me,” Harry piped up. “You know I’ll self-destruct.”

“Of course, Harry,” I reassured him. “We wouldn’t put you through that. You’ll play a beautiful piece in their honor.”

“Well, it’s not going to be me, either,” Matthew announced. “Sorry, I know you guys might think it’s the role of the oldest, but I just had to put it out there that it’s not an option, okay? I’m dealing with… some stuff right now.”

I gave him a quizzical look. “Stuff?” Stuff, as in guilt?

“I’m sorry to hear it, bro,” Harry said with a sarcastic look. “I thought we were all dealing with some stuff right now.”

Matthew ignored him. “Hugo would be great,” he continued. “Hugo, you’re so upbeat and positive. Everyone loves kids. Especially when they get all poetic in a kidlike way…”

“About their dead parents,” Harry finished. “Brilliant, Matty.” Harry is so much better at sarcasm than I am.

“Are you nuts?” Hugo asked. “I’m ten. I’m officially not responsible for anything.”

“Of course not,” I reassured Hugo. “We wouldn’t put you through that. You’ll be a pallbearer. The best, strongest pallbearer ever.”

“Tandy’s the obvious choice,” Harry said with an encouraging nod at me. “You’d be in complete control. You’d say all the right things, and you wouldn’t spill a tear.”

That was a compliment, right? Yes, I reasoned. It was.

So why was I feeling a little… offended?

Matthew dug in. “No offense, Tan, but that’s the problem. No emotion. Screw Dr. Keyes, man. Who wants a robot up there speaking at a funeral?”