CHAPTER TWO
Kameron woke at 8:30. He overslept. Still groggy he realized the events of the early morning hours was not a dream. He'd be late for his appointment with Masters. He fumbled for the phone as his head started to clear...and his eyes focused. He called his office, informed his assistant he'd be late and to expect Masters. He hurriedly shaved and showered. While dressing...he had the feeling he was forgetting something. Something that kept trying to press its way into his memory. It was always on the outskirts of his mind. lurking in the background. Waiting to be revealed.
When Kameron arrived at his office, Michele'le, his very efficient assistant directed him to conference room four, where she'd put Masters. Before Kameron went into Masters, he observed him through a security camera. One of many he had placed in all the conference rooms. He observed him for a minute or two. This was a habit that he maintained. He felt it was necessary. It was a way to size up the client before meeting the person that they pretended to be.
Kameron stepped into the room. Masters raised up from his chair, turned, and greeted him. When he stood up, Kameron saw that he was taller than his voice sounded on the phone. He sounded five-feet-six-inches, but Kameron judged him to be five-feet-eleven...if not six feet at least, compared to his six-feet-three frame. Masters was clean shaved, with light brown thinning hair, whereas Kameron sported a full beard with a mixture of gray, and dark brown...outlined in dark brown, with a very dark brown mustache, and a full head of thick very dark brown hair to match.
Masters was not at all what Kameron expected. But one thing he knew for sure...masters was money. It was green...and he had plenty of it. He'd recognized the name "Masters" last night. the very-very rich and famous writer of murder mysteries. He walked up to Masters...extended his hand. "Good morning Mr. Masters. I'm Kameron Randalls. We spoke earlier this morning. How can I help you?"
Masters sat back down in the oversized leather chair. Kameron walked around the Mahogany conference table and took a seat directly in front of Masters.
"Well, I don't really know where to begin."
" Suppose we start at the very beginning. Why do you think that you need my services?"
"I feel that I may be charged with murder."
"Who's murder...Mr. masters?"
"My wife's."
"Well, Mr. Masters...did you murder your wife? And before you answer that: I must tell you two things. If you hire me, what- ever you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence. And I do expect you to tell me the truth. Now Mr. Masters...did you kill your wife?"
Masters face turned red. He hesitated for a moment before he answered. He was taken back by Kameron's blunt style of questioning. He stared at the floor. He dared not look him in the face. Finally, he lifted his eyes slowly and stared at the picture behind Kameron, avoiding eye contact. "Of course not. How could I kill my wife? I loved her dearly and would never have hurt her in any way. I would have given my life for her! No. Absolute not. I did not kill my wife!"
With that said, Masters dared look Kameron in the face. Kameron knew Masters was lying. He knew this was going to be a hard and difficult case to fight...much less win. But hey this is my profession...and I'm the best at it, he thought to himself...as he looked at Masters with a slight smile, and eyes that showed disdain.
"Well Masters with that out of the way, we can get down to business. Tell me what happened. Start at the very beginning."
Masters looked at Kameron with new conviction. "Well... exclaimed Masters, yesterday my wife and I had been drinking quite a bit. She had Brandy...I gin-and-tonic.This went on for oh maybe until eleven...eleven-thirty. Around midnight, we decided to go to bed. I went up first because I was a little ill. I was upstairs for about fifteen minutes when suddenly I heard my wife scream. She called out my name. Then screamed again, and called out 'Masters...No Masters...Noooo...Noooo."'
I ran to the stairs to see what had happened. Just as I reached the stairs...I looked down and saw my wife lying at the bottom of the stairs. She tried to get up, only to fall again. She banged her head on the wall when she fell back. I ran down the stairs. By the time I got to her she was dead."
Kameron leaned back in his chair...studied Masters for a moment...and took him apart with his eyes. He looked down into his soul...and saw the devil. "Mr. Masters...how did you know that she was dead? What did you do to determine that? What did you do to determine if she was still alive...or was actually dead?"
I ran to her. I called out her name repeatedly. I felt for a pulse. I felt her neck...and her wrist. There was nothing. There was no pulse. No movement. Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing. There was no sign what-so-ever of life. Nothing. And besides there was so much blood loss there is no way Elisabetha could have survived that fall." Master replied as he started to sweat. He squirmed in his chair. He wrung his hands together and looked around the room. Again avoiding looking directly at Kameron.
"What did you do then?" Spoke Kameron as he looked deep into the abyss that Masters called his soul. It was dead just as he had suspected.
"I ran to the phone and called 911. I went back to my wife...and stayed by her side. Soon after that the ambulance came followed by the police."
"What happened after they arrived." asked Kameron as he straightened, and sat up...and started writing on a yellow legal pad.
Well, the paramedics questioned me as to what had happened, while they worked on my wife. She was revived and taken to the hospital, where she was later pronounced dead, DOA. The police questioned me. Then they left. However, they came back while I was still at the hospital. They took some pictures in my house and put yellow crime scene tape around the outside of my home. When I came home from the hospital...they told me 'I would have to leave...because my home was now a crime scene.' I asked them what crime had been committed...to make my home a crime scene? Detective Steven Ross told me, 'It was possible a homicide had occurred, and my home needed to be secured"'
"I asked him...who had been murdered. He informed me, 'My wife'"
"I asked him...who had murdered her. He looked me up and down...then looked directly at me and asked...'Don't you know?"'
"I then told Detective Ross, I'm not saying anything else. And that's when I called my Attorney David Peterson, and he told me to call you. And the rest is history."
"Okay. Ah, Mr. Masters are you absolutely sure you're telling me everything that happened last night?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
"Mr. Masters is there another woman in your life?"
"No!"
"Perhaps a man?"
"Nooo. Absolutely not!"
"So...you are not having any extramarital affairs?"
"No!"
"Is there anyone...anyone...anyone at all that could say that you are having an affair ?"
"No!"
"Have you ever hit your wife?"
"No!"
"What about life insurance? Did you have any life insurance on your wife? And if you did...how much was it for?"
" Well yes...I do suppose she had some life insurance. However...I didn't have any on her. And besides...I have so much money of my own...that I could never spend it all not even in six lifetimes. My wife was a very wealthy woman indeed. Yes, Elisabetha was a very wealthy woman, and as far as I know all or most of all of her money will go to her two children. But then again I really can't say...and I don't want to second-guess... since I have not seen her will. She may have procured life insurance for her heirs. I really don't know. Why do you ask? Do you think it's important...or a reason for them to suspect me?"
This was the first time Kameron heard Masters say his wife name. It was always, "she and her." He wondered...was Masters subconscious trying to disavow knowledge of the murder...like the murderer who covers his victims face...
"Well Masters everything that you do, have done, and will do from the time your wife was declared dead, and the police decided that you helped her get that way...will be of great importance to the D.A., and a possible stepping-stone for you...to the death penalty. So no...I am not just asking questions out of curiosity. I'm just doing my job. And that is to keep you alive, and possibly free from prison. So is there anything else that you need to tell me...before we move on?"
"No. I'll let you do all the asking. Ask away."
Kameron studied Masters and spoke with caution. He perceived him to be a profound prevaricator.
"Did you murder your wife. Did you kill her?" He stopped speaking and looked at Masters hard...as he reflected on his next string of words. Their importance would judge the character of Masters...and decide how the case would be won. He hated liars! "Did you kill your wife?"
He hesitated. It took a moment for him to compose himself. Again he was caught off guard by Kameron's blunt questioning. He looked at the floor. He started at his feet, as they began to nervously tap the floor as if doing a war dance. "Of course not. How could I kill my wife? I told you...I loved her dearly, and would have given my life, for her."
Masters looked Kameron dead in the face...and hoped he could not see through him like a window pane.
Kameron knew he was still lying. He knew this was going to be a hard, and difficult case to fight...much less win. But this was his profession...and he was the best at it. He looked at him with a slight smile...and eyes that showed disdain! "Well, Mr. Masters...with that out of the way tell me what happened...again!"
Masters felt relief. He sighed. He rubbed his forehead. Now he could look Kameron in the eyes. "Where do you want me to start?"
"At the beginning," Kameron said as he swung his chair to the side. He avoids eye contact with Masters. Liars made him ill.
"Well," exclaimed Masters as he looked Kameron's way with new conviction and confidence, as he now thought Kameron believed him. He nervously joined his fingers in a lock-hold and proceeded to speak. "Yesterday my wife and I had been drinking quite a bit. She had brandy...and I, gin and tonic. This went on late into the night. Maybe almost until 11-11:20. Around midnight, we decided to retire for the night. I went up first. I felt a little ill. I was upstairs for about fifteen minutes or so...when suddenly I heard a noise on the stairs. ..like someone falling. I then heard my wife scream. She called out my name. And then she screamed again...and called out to me, 'No Masters. Noo. Noo."'
He wondered why was Kameron asking him all the same things over. He'd already answered them once. He didn't like the way this was going. Kameron was supposed to be his lawyer. Not his accuser. He was not used to answering a lot of questions, nor repeating himself. Elisabetha had found that out the hard way very early in their marriage. He stiffened in his seat. He took on the mannerism of superiority. This wasn't going to his liking. He looked down at his hands...as his fingers unconsciously twisted his wedding ring. Damn that Elisabetha. Damn her. His mind screamed out as he sat looking at Kameron with the masked face of an angel.
Kameron read him like a book. "I am asking you these questions...because the States Attorney will be asking them too. Only they will be asking to put you to death. I am sure within the next two weeks...you will be charged with Capital Murder. And their one objective will be to put a needle in your arm...and happily join you with your dead wife!"
Master's left eye began to twitch. Sweat started to bead up on his forehead. A slight tremor ran through his voice. "Wel...well, no I didn't kill my wife. Won't you be able to prove this? Peterson did say you were the best at High Profile Murder cases. How can this be a Capital Murder case? I didn't murder my wife. I didn't kill my wife." Whined a subdued Masters. Sweat had popped out on his forehead like giant pimples. "I haven't murdered anyone." He said weakly." You do believe me, don't you? I must know that you do believe me before we go any further!"
"It's not me that you must convince....but a jury of your peers. Twelve to be exact. I will do my best for you as I do for each individual that I represent. And I am always on the side of truth. I believe all my clients are innocent until proved otherwise. I will represent you to the best of my ability. I will go the extra mile for you. I will hire the best research team your money can afford. I will put my all into proving you're innocent. But still in the end...it is not I, who you must convince...but your peers. Now with that said...shall we get on with it?" He knew he was being hard on Masters. He had to. This was going to be a very hard case to win. People with money...think that money can...and will buy all things. Not so.
Masters was disillusioned. He just wanted this to be over. He wished it was a nightmare so he could wake up. His insides started to turn to jelly. His fingers started to tremble...slightly. He was feeling nausea. He wondered could it be possible to vomit up one's stomach...'cause it felt like his was racing up through his throat...and any second splash through his clenched teeth. The last thought he had: was of being strapped down on a hospital gurney...with two giant needles sticking out of each arm. One to paralyze him...and one to stop his heart. This was too much for his mind. He felt a scream tear from his throat before he fainted.
Kameron jumped up from his desk, ran around to the other side, lifted up Masters who was now slumped over in the chair...with his head hung between his knees...almost touching the floor...and lifted him back into the seat. He called out for Michele'le. She ran into the room. Startled at the sight of Masters in his unconscious condition...she looked from him to Kameron with questioning eyes. Kameron spoke.
"He fainted at the picture I painted of his future. Get the smelling-salt...and bring me in two shot glasses full of my private stock. Umm...better make it Macallan Imperial "M" Malt. And put it on his bill. Put it in at ten thousand for incidentals. And that's beside the charges for today's meeting. Put the total for the first meeting. But give me a separate account in my file for the incidental so I'll know what the ten thousand is for. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Aww. Awww. Oooh. What happened?" Asked Masters as the blackness slowly lifted. He started to choke and cough...as the smelling salts went deep into his lungs. He pushed Kameron's hand away. "What happened? Please don't tell me that I fainted!"