18
SEAN DROVE THROUGH the night and dropped Michelle off at the airport in Bangor, where she boarded a seven a.m. flight. After switching to another plane in Philadelphia, she reached Virginia a few minutes before noon. She’d slept soundly on both flights and felt recharged when she touched down at Dulles Airport. She picked up her Toyota from the parking garage, drove home, packed another bag, grabbed a spare pistol, and drove to the office. She checked messages and mail, packed a few more things, looked up some addresses, made some calls, and headed to Charlottesville. She got to town around four that afternoon and drove directly to Ted Bergin’s law office, which was located in a business complex near the Boar’s Head Inn and Resort.
It was on the first floor of a clapboard-sided building painted white with green shutters and a black door. It had a simple arrangement: reception area, two offices, a conference room, and a small kitchen and workspace area in the back. As was her habit, Michelle scouted out and noted the rear exit on the other side of the building.
Michelle was greeted by a woman in her sixties wearing a pale-blue blouse with a ruffled collar, black skirt, and black heels. Her hair was bottle blond and starting to thin from one perm too many. She had puffy eyes and reddened cheeks. Michelle assumed this was Hilary Cunningham and was proven right when the woman introduced herself. After offering condolences about her unfortunate boss, Michelle asked to look around Bergin’s office.
“We need to track down who the client is,” she explained.
Hilary led her to Bergin’s office and then left her alone, murmuring something about burial arrangements. From the utterly devastated look on the woman’s face Michelle wondered if their relationship had been something more than employer and employee. If so, that might be another lead they would have to run down. Bergin’s death might not stem from his representation of Edgar Roy at all. He had been Sean’s friend and law professor, but the truth was the two had not seen each other much over the last few years. There could be secrets in Bergin’s past that might explain his death, even all the way up in Maine.
Michelle closed the door to the office and sat down behind the man’s old-fashioned partners desk, running her fingers across the faded leather inlay. As she gazed around the room it seemed everything in here was old- fashioned. And solid. She closed her eyes and cast her mind back to the dead man in the car.
The diminished body. The saggy face. The hole in the head.
And the rolled-down window that had been rolled back up by the killer.
A killer Bergin might have known. If true, that could possibly cut the suspect list down substantially.
She rifled through Bergin’s desk and files. There were several litigation bags parked in a corner of the room but they were empty. No address book. There was no computer on his desk. She slipped back out to the front room and asked Hilary about that.
“Megan and I use computers, obviously, but he never cared to. Pen and paper and a Dictaphone were good enough for him.”
“And his calendar?”
“I kept an appointment calendar on the computer for him and would print out a copy every week. He also had a Daily Planner he carried with him.”
Michelle nodded. And that Daily Planner would now be in the hands of Agent Murdock. Along with the rest of Bergin’s papers.
“Do you know if he ever e-mailed or texted from his cell phone?”
“I seriously doubt he knew how. He preferred talking on the phone.”
Michelle went back to his office and noted the jar of pens and pencils and stacks of legal pads on the desk.
She turned her attention to the wooden file cabinets, the closet, a trench coat that was hanging on a wall peg, and lastly a small oak credenza.
After an hour of searching she came away with nothing helpful.
She spent another hour questioning Hilary. He had not confided much to her about the Roy case, and Michelle could tell this had somewhat irked the lady.
“He’s usually very open about his cases,” Hilary said. “We worked together, after all.”
“And you do the billing?”
“Absolutely. Which made it strange why he never mentioned to me who had retained him to work for Edgar Roy. How were we to be paid, after all? I mentioned to Sean that Mr. Bergin might have taken the case pro bono, but the more I thought about it the less likely I think that is.”
“Why?”
“He has a small practice. He’s made a good income over the years, but a case like this requires a lot of time and expenses. It would have taxed his resources too much.”
“Well, it’s a high-profile case. Maybe he was doing it for the notoriety.”
Hilary made a face. “Mr. Bergin was not into notoriety. He was a very well-respected lawyer.”
“Well, maybe the client made it a condition of the retainer that he couldn’t tell anyone. Do you have bank records? There might be a deposit in there that didn’t go through you.”
Hilary clicked some keys on her computer. “We maintain an account with a local bank. All funds from the practice go in there. I have online access, so let me check.”
She looked at various screens and then shook her head. “I made every one of these deposits going back six months.”
“Might have been cash.”
“No, there are no cash deposits listed.”
“Did he keep another account?”
Hilary looked offended by even the suggestion. “If he did, he never told me about it.”
“And there’s obviously no retainer agreement in the files for the Roy case?”
“No. I already checked that.”
“But if Edgar Roy didn’t hire him, and from what I’ve seen of the man it’s highly doubtful he had the capacity to do so, someone with a power of attorney or something like that had to do it. You can’t just appoint yourself as someone’s lawyer. A court has to do that and only under certain conditions.” She stared at Hilary. “Are you sure that wasn’t the case here?”
“No. If the court had done so there would be a record of that in the file. Mr. Bergin has served as a public defender assisting indigent clients, but not in this case. And I don’t believe Mr. Roy was indigent. He had a job and a home.”
“Yeah, he’s just comatose. I’m not sure in this instance which one is worse.”
“I can’t speak to that.”
“Maybe a family member retained Bergin? Roy’s parents are dead. Any siblings? Sean couldn’t remember the media mentioning any.”
“I really didn’t get into that with Mr. Bergin,” said Hilary demurely.
“But weren’t you curious when he started representing the man? No retainer agreement? No payments?”
Hilary looked uncomfortable at this query. “I must admit that I thought it unusual. But I would never have questioned Mr. Bergin over a professional matter.”
“But it was also a business matter. A retainer agreement and getting paid for services is important, too. He’s running a business, after all, and you’re part of that business.”
“Again, I never questioned it. Mr. Bergin certainly would know what he was doing. And it was his practice after all. I… I was just his employee.”
Michelle studied the woman.
“He never let anything slip about who might have hired him? The financial arrangement?”
“No.”
“So the client never came here?”
“Well, I’m not here 24/7, but no one like that, no, at least while I was present.”
“So there were no clients in from the time he started representing Edgar Roy?”
Hilary looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“If it was a new person you wouldn’t necessarily know why they were here until they met with Bergin.”
