Grace Quincey

Silence is Golden


Скачать книгу

this anxiety?

      “I don’t make appointments before I at least know what crime I am going to be defending.”

      “Please,” said the caller, “you must help me. I desperately need the best there is, and you are it. One of the boys up North told me to call you.”

      “Who?” asked Dan.

      “I can’t tell you over the phone,” he said.

      Dan felt a stir of curiosity. “Okay, then come in about seven thirty tonight when the regular staff will all be gone.”

      “I can’t risk being seen in an attorney’s office,” he said. “Can you meet me at Louie’s Restaurant at seven thirty? Louie’s has those private dining alcoves. Just ask the maître d’ for Arnie.”

      “Fine,” said Dan, “I’ll be there.”

      What am I doing? thought Dan as he hung up. I don’t know this guy from Adam. I didn’t even get a telephone number. Maybe I shouldn’t even show.

      “No,” he went on to himself with another surge of unexplained anxiety, “that might prove to be even more dangerous. There is something going on here beyond the ordinary crime. I had better find out what it is and then make a decision to represent him or not. On the other hand, maybe if I am lucky, this will be the big one to get me to the top.”

      Tara came bustling into Dan’s office, full of curiosity. “Well, who was he? What big murder did he commit?”

      “It was just a kook,” Dan lied, “just as I thought.”

      Chapter 2

      Jenene

      Jenene woke with a start. She had been dreaming that dream again. Here she was, the First Lady of the Land on the stage before thousands of people and millions of television viewers. The applause is deafening, and she is at the height of glory and fame. Then the stage suddenly collapses under her, and she is whirling and whirling ever downward to a bottomless pit, her whole life flashing before her again.

      And some life it has been, she thought.

      Her fondest memories were back when she was just a child. Her father had been a “gentleman rancher” with more money than he ever needed and time on his hands until he entered the world of politics. He had first been a state senator and, after two terms, had run for and been successfully elected to the office of United States senator. Her mother had been the perfect hostess and partner for her father, and Jenene enjoyed all the spoils of being a senator’s daughter.

      “Oh, yes,” she was often heard to say, “Senator Vincent is my father.”

      Her pride in her father was tremendous, and she never missed a chance to tell the whole world just how she felt! Then when Jenene turned thirteen, there was the “scandal” that rocked their happy home. Her father had been accused of accepting a bribe to vote on a proposed bill involving casinos, and life was never the same after that. Her friends avoided her, her mother became a recluse, and her father was busy defending his career.

      Then one afternoon, returning from school, Jenene found her parents in the horse corral, apparently trampled to death by the horses. There were reporters upon reporters for weeks on end and policemen and investigators swarming the ranch, but the end result was “accidental death,” and a part of Jenene died with her parents. She knew the horses, she knew her parents, and she knew that this was not an accidental death—she might be only thirteen years old, but she wasn’t stupid. Why couldn’t anyone see that they had been murdered? Jenene vowed she would spend the rest of her life if necessary to find out what really happened, and when that day came, sweet revenge would be hers—all hers!

      Jenene went to live with her aunt and uncle in Reno. She had been well provided for in the trust set up for her by her parents, and her aunt and uncle had also been made her legal guardian. This was ideal for Jenene, as her aunt and uncle moved in all the right circles that could eventually lead Jenene to the bottom of her parents’ death. With that thought in mind, she took every course that even remotely resembled politics or governmental procedure and became a member of every organization and fraternity that would keep her involved with the “in crowd,” believing someday it would pay off and she would get the information she needed about the death of her parents. Though to all the world she was a beautiful, innocent young girl, in reality, not a day of her life went by without some thought and plan to find who had killed her parents, the obsession growing within her each passing day.

      It was while she was attending college in Reno that she met Dan. Jenene had stayed in the classroom to ask the professor a point of law just as Dan came into the classroom, and Dan had quickly answered her question instead of the professor. Introductions were made, and the professor explained how Dan had been his best student. Jenene felt herself blushing, and she quickly made her escape.

      So this is how it is, this love thing, she thought, and it doesn’t hurt a thing that he is an attorney and with the right crowd.

      Dan had called her a couple of weeks later and invited her to the governor’s ball, and they danced and hobnobbed all night. Jenene was in her height of glory, and they entered into a whirlwind courtship, and they were married two months later, with the governor, the senators, and any politician who was anyone attending.

      This morning, she arose with the feeling that she would never find the answer she was seeking if she didn’t do something more definitive toward that end. When she and Dan had married, she had hoped that would open even more doors to her aim of finding who murdered her parents, but so far, nothing had happened. Now she was beginning to wonder if she should do something more on her own. She had passed the bar exam and had gone into practice with a small firm after their marriage. But Dan had insisted that she should get in with a more prestigious firm.

      “One that can get me into a governorship,” he laughingly had told her.

      Secretly she didn’t find that so funny. But in the end, she had acquiesced and started looking for another firm.

      But for some strange reason, she was not accepted, and Jenene began to believe it was not because she was relatively inexperienced in the field, but rather because Senator Vincent was her father. She began a slow fume that grew hotter and hotter each time she was not accepted, and she vowed this was not going to happen to her. She took an extended leave of absence from her present job to determine just what course of action would be best.

      She checked her mirror. Yes, she was beautiful, that she knew, and yes, she was smart, that she knew too. Yes, she had enough money in the trust to see her through life.

      “But that isn’t enough,” she told her mirror. “I want my parents’ murderers. I want to see them suffer, long and hard, and I will do whatever it takes to do it!”

      As she began dressing, the phone rang. It was her office, informing her that the postman had tried to deliver a certified letter addressed to her, but no one could sign for it as it was marked restricted to addressee only. Jenene told her to hold on to the postal slip and she would be down to pick it up later that afternoon. She finished dressing with some anxiety penetrating her thoughts. Why would someone send her a certified letter restricted to addressee only, and why to her office and not at her home?

      I have been concentrating on my parents too much, she thought, and I am too quick to get jittery.

      Nevertheless, she skipped breakfast, grabbed her purse, headed to the office, and got the slip, and although quite anxious to find out about the letter, she decided to check it out later in the afternoon after finishing with the appointments she had scheduled. The afternoon became late, and Jenene was finally able to go to the post office. It took some time to get the letter, and Jenene found her heart pounding.

      Why am I feeling this way? she thought. I will know in a few minutes who the letter is from.

      When she finally got the letter, she tore the envelope open immediately and felt herself go faint as she read the six words on the letter: “I know who killed your parents.”