Chapter 6 - A MEMORY THAT DIDN’T BELONG TO HIMEverett began writing down everything.
Breakfast.
Medication.
Conversations.
Names.
Times.
Not because he believed he was losing his mind.
Because somebody wanted him to question whether he was.
That evening, he sat alone in his study with Onyx’s perch moved near the doorway.
The bird watched him.
Everett looked at him.
“Who said it?”
Onyx blinked.
“We have to get rid of old Everett today.”
Everett’s jaw tightened.
“Who?”
Onyx whistled.
Then:
“Don’t let him see.”
Everett leaned forward.
“See what?”
Onyx clicked his beak.
“Statement.”
Everett frowned.
“What statement?”
No answer.
Then:
“Move it before Friday.”
Everett wrote the phrases down.
Parrots did not understand context.
That was their weakness.
And usefulness.
Onyx was not accusing.
He was replaying fragments.
Some from weeks earlier.
Some perhaps months.
Everett needed context.
He began reconstructing where Onyx had been.
The perch normally stayed beside the staircase.
But the housekeeper, Ruth Coleman, moved it during cleaning.
Sometimes into Everett’s study.
Sometimes near the sunroom.
Sometimes onto the covered patio.
Everett called Ruth.
She had worked for them fifteen years.
“Where has Onyx been this week?”
She thought.
“Monday afternoon in the sunroom.”
“Tuesday?”
“Study until lunch, then living room.”
“Wednesday?”
“Mrs. Holloway asked me to move him into the small library.”
Everett looked up.
“Lorraine did?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said the florist needed space.”
There had been no florist Wednesday.
Everett checked.
Flowers arrived Friday.
“Who was in the library?”
Ruth hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
“Ruth.”
She looked uncomfortable.
“Mrs. Holloway and Mr. Preston.”
Everett felt cold.
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Maybe forty minutes.”
“Celia?”
“No.”
That mattered.
Onyx had been near Lorraine and Preston during a private conversation.
Could he have heard the sentence then?
Everett asked:
“Did you hear anything?”
“No.”
Then Ruth added:
“Actually…”
Everett waited.
“When I went back for the bird, Mr. Preston was angry.”
“What did he say?”
“I didn’t hear the whole thing.”
“Anything.”
Ruth looked down.
“He said, ‘I’m not doing that to Dad.’”
Everett stared.
“And Lorraine?”
“I didn’t hear her answer.”
Preston had resisted something.
That did not make him innocent.
But it complicated the picture.
Everett called his son into the study.
“Wednesday.”
Preston’s face changed immediately.
“What?”
“You and your mother met in the library.”
Silence.
“Onyx was there.”
Preston closed his eyes.
Everett stood.
“What did she ask you to do?”
“Dad.”
“What?”
Preston sat.
For the first time, he looked frightened rather than defensive.
“She wanted me to sign a statement.”
Everett remembered Onyx.
Statement.
“What statement?”
“That you had become confused.”
Everett felt anger rise.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it went too far.”
“Too far from what?”
Preston stared at the floor.
Everett understood.
“There was something you were willing to do.”
Preston’s silence answered.
“What?”
“I was willing to have you evaluated.”
“Secretly.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Preston looked up.
“Because I owe eight million dollars.”
Everett said nothing.
Preston continued.
Not personally all eight.
His real-estate investment fund had guarantees.
Projects in Brooklyn and Jersey City were failing.
Banks wanted collateral.
Investors wanted capital calls.
Preston had hidden everything.
“I thought if the family trust made a temporary loan…”
Everett’s expression hardened.
“I told you no last year.”
“I know.”
“So you decided if I were incompetent, you might get a different answer.”
“No.”
Preston shook his head.
“Mom said if she became trustee, she could authorize it.”
There.
Lorraine again.
Everett asked:
“Was the sentence Onyx repeated said in that library?”
Preston’s face went pale.
“I don’t know.”
“You were there.”
“I don’t remember hearing exactly that.”
“Exactly?”
Preston looked trapped.
“What did you hear?”
His answer came slowly.
“Mom said…”
He stopped.
Everett waited.
“She said we needed you out of the way before the bank deadline.”
Everett stared.
Not the same phrase.
Close.
Then Preston added:
“But I never heard her say get rid of you.”
Everett sat again.
Someone had.
Onyx had.
May you like
The mystery was narrowing.
But not enough.
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