Chapter 43
Forty-Three
FORTY MINUTES LATER, Deck pulled into Randolph’s empty driveway.
He and Harper hopped out of the car and headed up the brick steps leading to the front door.
“He ain’t home,” a woman across the street said. She wore a floral morning coat and fuzzy slippers and had her hair in curlers.
“Is he at work?” Deck asked.
“Who wants to know?” she asked.
“We’re private investigators. Well, I am. Harper here is a forensic botanist with the FBI.”
“What do you want with Randolph?”
“We have a few questions for him.”
She strode across the street. “About Sophie’s supposed accident?”
“I’m guessing Sophie was his wife?”
“And my daughter.”
Serendipity.
“That’s nice you live across the street,” Harper said.
“I moved here to be closer to Sophie and Jason, but they’re both gone now.” Her voice quavered.
Harper shielded her eyes from the sun breaking through the clouds in powerful rays. “Could we talk to you about it?”
“I suppose that’s okay. Let’s go in my house. I don’t like those cameras watching me.”
Deck scanned Randolph’s residence. A doorbell camera and two exterior ones. “Your son-in-law must be super cautious.”
“Paranoid, if you ask me. Well, come on.” She gestured to what must be her house and led them inside. “Go ahead and take a seat.”
“Thank you, Ms. . . . ?” Harper began.
“Call me Ida.”
“Thanks for speaking with us, Ida.” Deck took a seat, and Harper sat beside him.
“Always happy to talk about my Sophie. I’ve been trying to get the record straight for six years, but no one listens.
Randolph said he’d kill me if I kept at it, but it’s his word against mine anyway.
Brilliant professor of chemistry at Northwestern versus me—an old lady ‘bitter’ about the loss of her daughter. ”
“I’m sorry. Did you say he threatened to kill you?” Harper darted a glance at Deck.
“Yes, ma’am, he did.”
“Why?”
“Because I know her accident was no accident.”
“Not to doubt you,” Harper began, “more to understand, but could you explain what you mean?”
“Of course. Those surveillance cameras they have on highways?”
“Yes.” Harper nodded.
“Well, she went under one, and when she did, she was unconscious.”
“She didn’t just have her eyes closed?”
“No. She was flailed all out. A witness saw her unconscious before the wreck. He killed her.”
“Who?” Deck shifted to the edge of his seat.
“Randolph.”
“You’re saying Randolph killed his wife?” Harper scooted forward to even up with Deckard.
“Yes.” Ida nodded.
“Why would he kill her? Hadn’t he already lost a child?” Deck recalled the notes Riley had given them, along with Harper’s research during what remained of the drive.
“That’s why he killed her.” Ida shook her head, tears springing to her eyes.
Harper shifted. “I don’t understand.”
“Sophie was watching Jason at the playground near here. She turned her back for just a moment, and he’d climbed up on top of the jungle gym. He fell and hit his little head on a rock. What a rock was doing there, no one knew, but poor little Jason didn’t survive.”
Tears misted in Harper’s eyes. “That’s terrible.”
“Poor Sophie took it so hard, but Randolph—he was furious.”
“Furious?” Deckard dipped his chin.
“He blamed Sophie for Jason’s death. Weeks later, she’d died in a ‘car accident.’” She used air quotes.
“What did the autopsy say?”
“No autopsy. They ruled it a car accident, and he had her cremated.”
Harper looked at Deck. “That sounds familiar.”
Ida frowned. “What do you mean?”
They went on to explain what had happened to the three other wives.
“I can’t believe it.” Ida paled. “But his friend George came for a visit maybe a year after Sophie died. I was still trying to stay on Randolph’s good side back then, so I took dinner to them, and when I stepped inside, I heard their voices. It was an odd conversation.”
Harper’s brows furrowed. “What about?”
“Something about flowers and how they work. Some kind of experiment.”
“Do you know which one was speaking like he was making it?”
“No, I couldn’t tell. I only got bits and pieces.”
“Where’s Randolph now?” Deck asked.
“Let’s see. . . .” She looked at the clock. “His office hours are today.”
“Great. I think we’ll go pay him a visit.”
“Thank you.” She stood and shook their hands. “I hope this helps my Sophie get justice. I always assumed it was Randolph, but George has always seemed very knowledgeable when discussing different things in the world of medicine. For all I know, Randolph hired him to help take care of Sophie.”
“She’s right, you know,” Deck said while heading for Northwestern’s campus. “It could be George or Randolph.”
“Yes,” Harper agreed, “but it started with Randolph’s wife, apparently.”
“True, but George could have made the poisonous potion.”
Harper lifted her phone. “I’ll call Joel and update him.”
“Have him check George’s financials back to Sophie’s death. Let’s see if he got paid any other time like that two hundred thousand, and if so, can we tie the payments to the dates of the other wives’ deaths?”
“On it.”
After relaying everything to Joel, she hung up and shifted in her seat as they approached Northwestern. “His office is in the chemistry building.”
Having parked, they strode across the snow-laden campus. A layer of ice covered the snow, keeping it from melting away. It crunched underfoot.
Harper’s cell rang. “Hey, Joel. That was fast.” She put him on speakerphone.
“I ran George’s financials for the time period around when Sophie died, and I don’t see anything. But three weeks before his wife died, he sent a transfer of two hundred thousand dollars to Randolph.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“So why did Nick pay George?”
“It looks like he played the middleman.” Joel explained. “Around every wife’s death, a large sum came to George, and he turned around and—”
“Sent it to Randolph,” Deck finished for him.
“You got it. I called the local police. They’re en route to the campus now.”
“They might be too late,” Harper said, tugging his arm.
Deck turned his attention to her, then followed her pointing hand to a man heading straight for the parking lot.
“We’ve got Randolph heading for his car.”
Randolph shifted his gaze to them, and his eyes widened. He dropped his books and bolted for the other end of the parking lot.
“He’s running,” Deck said, taking off across the parking lot. “Randolph, stop!” he hollered, but the man only broke into a faster run.
Deck’s lungs burned. What was this guy? A track star?
Randolph wove around cars coming and going, nearly getting run over in the process. Finally, he climbed into a Subaru and started to reverse when a SUV screeched in place to block his retreat. Harper.
Deck smiled and gave her a wink.
Randolph hopped out of his car, but Deck was waiting, gun in hand. “Take it easy, man. We just want to talk.” And hold you until the cops come. But he wasn’t sharing that part.
Harper climbed out of the car and joined them.
“Take a seat on the hood.” He gestured with a dip of his head, his gun still trained on him.
“I know better.” Randolph sulked, hatred filling his eyes.
“Why’d you do it?” Deck asked.
“Because she killed our child.”
“It was an accident.” Harper stood beside him, rankled anger on her face.
“No.” He spat. “It wasn’t. She should have been watching him. That’s a mother’s duty.”
“What about the other women?” Deck asked before the two continued down that argument path. “They deserve it too?”
“As a matter of fact, they did.”
“Oh, I’d love to hear why they deserved it.” Harper looked like she was struggling not to throttle the guy.
“George’s wife cheated on him. Nick’s wife was divorcing him and leaving him with nothing.”
“And Hank’s wife?”
He smiled, but it was cold . . . cruel. “I didn’t know about him.”
“We do.”
And he was lying.
“So what did Hank’s wife do?” Deck asked before Harper slammed him. Not that he blamed her, but he wanted to keep Randolph talking as long as he could.
“Hank’s wife was making up lies to get him arrested.”
“Lies?” Hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Telling people Hank hit her. I mean, come on. A little slap is different from swinging at her. She always blew things out of proportion and was threatening to call the cops.”
Harper’s jaw went slack. “I’m sorry, but did you literally just say that slapping your wife is okay?”
He looked at Deckard. “For a decent amount of money, you could be rid of this one.” He winked at her.
Deck caught her arm mid-lunge as the police cars came piling in. Thank you, Joel.