It was nearly seven o’clock when they arrived at the Dabney home. A couple of cars were in the circular driveway. They were probably rentals being used by the daughters while they were here. The house looked dark, with only the front porch light on.
Mars had come with them. They had driven over in his car because Jamison’s would barely fit her and Decker. But he waited in the car while they walked up to the house.
Decker knocked on the front door. No one came.
“Do you think the housekeeper’s here yet?” asked Jamison.
“I don’t know anything about housekeepers,” said Decker.
They turned toward the door when they heard footsteps.
Jules Dabney opened the door. She was dressed in sweatpants and a GW sweatshirt. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she was barefoot.
She looked at them and said crossly, “Jesus, it’s a little early, you know.”
“Is your sister Natalie here?” asked Decker.
“Yes, but she’s asleep.”
“We need to talk to her.”
“Can’t this wait?”
“If it could we wouldn’t be here this early.”
“Look, I’m going to have to insist—”
Decker held out his creds and said, “We need to talk to her.”
Jamison stepped in front of him. “Just tell your sister that we want to talk to her about Corbett.”
“Corbett? Is he okay?”
“Just tell her. If she still doesn’t want to talk to us, we’ll leave and come back later.”
Jules hesitated and then closed the door. They heard her walking away.
As they were standing there waiting, a small Kia SUV pulled up and parked off the main drive. The housekeeper, an older black woman whom Decker and Jamison had seen on a previous visit, got out of the car and walked past them, nodding and smiling. She opened the front door with a key and went in.
Jamison looked at her watch. “Okay, now we know. Housekeepers to the rich get in at seven sharp.”
Another few minutes passed, and when the door opened again, it was Natalie. She had on an ankle-length robe. Her hair was stringy and matted on one side. Her eyes were bloodshot.
“Jules said you wanted to talk about Corbett?”
“Maybe we can come inside?” suggested Jamison.
“I guess,” she said sullenly. She stepped back and they walked past her.
She led them to the library and closed the door behind them. They sat on the couch and she sat across from them. Natalie wouldn’t look at them. Her gaze remained directed at the floor.
“My mom’s not up yet.”
“That’s okay, we don’t need to bother her,” said Jamison. She glanced at Decker.
He said, “We know about the gambling debts. And we know how your father got the money to pay them off.”
“Oh, God!” Natalie put her face in her hands and started sobbing.
Jamison rose, crossed the room, and sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her quaking body. She gave Decker a scowl.
Natalie started to gasp for air.
“Are you okay?” asked Jamison.
Natalie reached into her pocket and pulled out an inhaler. She took two quick puffs and her breathing rapidly settled down.
“I’m okay now. Asthma,” she added, holding up the inhaler. “We all have it, except Dad. We got it from Mom.” She leaned back against her chair and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.
Jamison sat back next to Decker and whispered, “I think you need to go a little easy.”
Decker waited for Natalie to regain her composure. She slowly sat up, rubbed her eyes dry with the cord of her robe, and looked at him.
“I didn’t know who else to turn to,” she said, her voice scratchy and raw. “They were going to kill him. They were going to kill all of us.”
“Did you know about the gambling?” asked Decker.
“I didn’t know the extent of it. And I didn’t know he was mixed up with the sort of people who would murder you.”
“Are you sure he’s not going to do it again?” asked Jamison.
“This scared the shit out of Corbett. But at this point, I don’t really care. I’m divorcing him. He cost me my father. I hate him. I hate everything about him. I’m coming back to the States with my daughter. I just have to find a place to live.”
“Do you know where your father got the money?”
She shook her head. “I know he and Mom are well-off. But the amount was so huge.”
“Ten million, we heard,” said Decker.
She nodded. “I didn’t think they had that kind of money in cash. But maybe if they sold the house and some other stuff.”
Decker said, “And you were expecting your father to do that? Sell everything they had. Everything they’d worked for?”
“I... I don’t know. I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, I guess.” She paused. “When I was a kid and got into trouble my father always fixed things. Always. He made things right. I guess... I guess I got used to that.”
Decker said firmly, “That works with falling off your bike and getting your feelings hurt when someone calls you a name. But you’re not a kid anymore, Natalie.”
She gazed fixedly at him. “I know that. I don’t need a lecture from the FBI, okay?”
“So he said nothing to you about where he was going to get the money?”
“No. He just told me he’d take care of it.”
“How was the money sent?” asked Jamison.
“I think he had it wired. But I’m not sure. I just know that it was received. Corbett told me. He was so relieved.”
“I’m sure,” said Decker harshly. “So when you heard about your father, what did you think had happened?”
“I didn’t know what to think. I thought, I thought maybe he had snapped or something. When Jules called she was so calm and professional. Just like she always is,” she added derisively. “But all I could make out was that Dad was dead and he had shot himself. I didn’t even know about the woman he killed until I got here, although Jules said she told me. I guess I didn’t process that part. I’m not as coldly efficient as my big sister.”
“Did you think what he did was connected to how he had gotten the money?” asked Jamison.
Natalie nodded, looking miserable as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I thought it had to be connected. And so I believed it was my fault. I drank on the flight from France. Then when I got here I kept drinking. I don’t remember much before or after.”
“I’m sure that was a big help to your family,” said Decker sternly.
“Hey,” she snapped, “I’m not proud of what I did, okay? So you can leave the high-and-mighty attitude for someone else. And if you keep it up I won’t do anything to help you.”
Decker leaned forward. “Let me lay this out so that you see clearly what’s at stake here, lady. I’m not here begging for favors. Your father committed treason to get the money to pay Corbett’s damn gambling debts.”
Natalie went white and her mouth hung open. She looked like she might throw up.
Decker ignored her expression and continued, “So that makes you, at minimum, an accessory to treason. And you didn’t come forward with any of this information that might have explained, in part, why your father did what he did. That’s obstruction of justice. You combine the two with assorted other felonies, which any competent U.S. Attorney would be able to come up with, and you won’t have to worry about finding a place to live after you divorce Corbett. Your housing will be provided by the federal prison system for the rest of your life.”
“Omigod!”
Before she became hysterical Decker said, “But if you cooperate, maybe that doesn’t happen.”
“What do you want me to do?” she blurted out.
“Someone I greatly respect thinks your father may have told you something that might help us.”
“Like what?”
Decker said, “I’m guessing you’re the youngest.”
“I am. How did you know?”
“You said your dad took care of everything for you. And you said Jules was all professional-like. She’s the oldest. The take-charge one.”
Natalie nodded.
“So you and your dad had a special relationship.”
“We did.”
“You flew over here and went with him to the doctors, didn’t you?”
Natalie said, “He... he called me and told me he thought he was sick. I mean really sick. He said he hadn’t told anyone else. He wanted me.” She broke off and fought back a sob. “He wanted me to go with him to get a definitive diagnosis. He sent the money for the plane ticket.”
“So you went?” said Jamison.
She rubbed her eyes, took a tissue from her robe pocket, and blew her nose. “Yes. And they confirmed that he had stage four inoperable brain cancer. They said that before long he wouldn’t be able to function normally.”
“And what did your dad say about that?”
“That he wasn’t going to do any treatments. They would give him an extra couple of weeks or maybe a month, but he didn’t want that. He was planning to tell Mom, and we talked about how he was going to break the news.”
“And did he talk to you about anything else he was planning to do?” asked Decker.
Natalie looked at each of them before settling her gaze on Decker. “If you’re asking did he tell me that he was planning on shooting someone a month or so later and then taking his own life, that would be a no. I would never have kept quiet about that.”
“But did he say anything that might have hinted at what he was planning to do? It might have made no sense to you, but it could still be important.”
Natalie thought for a few moments. She rubbed at her eyes and said, “We were talking one night. He had called me in France out of the blue.”
“When was this?”
“About a week ago.”
“Go on,” said Decker.
“Well, he said he hadn’t told Mom or the others yet, but he was still planning to. And then he said, ‘You think you know someone for a long time, and then it turns out you don’t know them at all. And then, before you know it, it’s too late.’”
“Did you ask him what he meant by that?” asked Jamison.
“I did, at least I tried to. I thought he might be on some pain meds and was a little incoherent. But then before I could say anything he told me he loved me. And then he hung up. That was the last time I ever heard from him.” She bowed her head and began to quietly sob. After a few moments she lifted her head and said, “Will all this have to come out? Will my mom and sisters have to know?”
“Right now, I don’t see any way to keep this secret,” said Decker.
As they walked out Jamison looked at Decker. “What do you make of that?”
“I think Walter Dabney was being quite literal.”