Dead Secret

yesterday. He’s having a hard time overcoming his political survivalist tendencies. This might light a fire under him.”
    Diane was about to pick up the phone when it rang.
    “Diane Fallon.”
    “Dr. Fallon, this is Emmett Taggart. We met at Helen Egan’s funeral.”
    “Yes, Mr. Taggart, I know who you are.”
    Jin’s eyes grew wide. Diane pointed to the phone in Andie’s office, and Jin nodded and went in to pick up.
    She watched Jin. When he was ready to pick up she said, “Hold on just a moment, please, Mr. Taggart. Let me go to my other phone.”
    She motioned to Jin and he picked up the receiver to listen. There was the momentary sound of another phone on the line until Jin pressed the mute button.
    “What can I do for you, Mr. Taggart?” she said.
    “It’s what I can do for you. I’ve been thinking about that mummy exhibit of yours and how much I like the museum. I was considering making a sizable donation.” Emmett Taggart’s voice reflected a man accustomed to being in control, to having his wishes fulfilled, to having people ingratiate themselves to him.
    “Kendel Williams takes care of donations,” said Diane in an attempt to disarm him. “She’s not in her office at the moment. I’ve had to clear out the museum because of some unfortunate events. Our lives are very much disrupted.”
    There was a pause during which Diane imagined Taggart enjoying the contribution he had made to that disruption. She looked at Jin and held up her legal pad on which she had written the word Emmett in big letters for Jin to see. Jin’s face registered astonishment.
    The tone of Emmett Taggart’s voice now reflected a noticeably more insistent quality but with a varnish of civility. “I understand what you are saying, but for the kind of donation I’m thinking about, I’d rather speak to the director.”
    “And you would want what in return for this donation? For large donors, we usually name a room after them.”
    Distaste was now evident in his voice as he was actually having to ask for something, to justify himself. “I wasn’t thinking of a room. I was thinking of consideration for all the years of good I have done, all the charities I have given to, all the people I have helped.”
    “You want acknowledgment?” Diane was almost enjoying this. Rubbing his face in his own arrogance and his guilt. And it had its desired effect. He came back at her on the offensive, with less caution.
    “Let’s stop this. You know exactly what I want, and I have enough money to pay for it. You may think I did something in the past that I should be punished for, but anything I might have done has been balanced several times over by all the good I’ve done.”
    But Diane was just warming to the challenge. “I’ve just spoken to the family of Jewel Southwell. They have been devastated by her disappearance sixty-three years ago, and are still feeling the effects today.”
    “Jewel.” He said the name as if he had just now remembered. Perhaps he had forgotten her name. “She was a waitress with an illegitimate child.”
    “No, the child was not illegitimate. Jewel’s husband worked out of town.”
    “You wouldn’t have known she was married by the way she acted.”
    “She loved life, and her family loved her. I also have a last letter from Dale Wayne Russell. Let me read it to you.” Diane read the poignant last words of Caver Doe. “He expected you to come back for him.”
    There was a long, drawn-out silence, but Diane could still hear the old man breathing. When he spoke again, he was not contrite, but he was calmer and sounded sincere, almost pleading.
    “Dale was hurt too bad. My cousin was a careless boy. He was going to die anyway. You have to understand. I loved Rosemary too.”
    “He was your cousin?”
    “I thought you knew that. Yes, he was my cousin. Don’t presume to judge me until you know everything.” His calm had not lasted long, and was replaced by a return of his arrogance and self-justification.
    “I know we have three recent murders,” said Diane.
    “Blackmailers!” he spit. “Blackmailers!”
    “Nothing they did justifies your taking the lives of Jake Stanley, and Flora and Donnie Martin,” said Diane, her own temper now raised. “My mother was thrown in a black hole of a prison as a result of your criminal activities. There is nothing you can do to undo her suffering or to repair my ruined relationship with my family. No amount of money will change any of the evil