A Christmas Peril by J A Hennrikus

Author:J A Hennrikus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christmas, ja hennrikus, mystery novel, theater cop mystery series, j.a. hennrikus, Fiction, christmas msytery, henrikus, theater, theatre, j.a. henrikus, christmas carol, mystery fiction, theater cop mystery
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2017-07-18T00:00:00+00:00

• Thirteen •

We drove Gus’s car to Clive Willis’s office in Boston. Gus had a nice car—sporty but solid, green exterior, tan leather interior. Bells and whistles on the dashboard that I couldn’t even begin to fathom. I was warm, really warm, immediately. Odds were good the seats were heated. Heated seats were a fantasy of mine, as yet unrealized.

“Nice car, Gus,” I said.

“Thanks. I think it’s a mid-life thing … an indulgence.” Gus sounded like he felt he needed to justify the opulence of his vehicle to me. Maybe my tone had been a little sarcastic. I decided to try again.

“No, really, it’s very nice. I love the leather seats.” I patted the seat beside me and then looked out the window. Back to work. “So, I know he’s a business associate of Peter’s, but who is Clive Willis exactly?”

“Basically, he’s a banker.”

“What does that mean?”

“He started off as a banker. Then Peter’s business started to expand, and Clive hitched his wagon to Peter. He started extending credit to some of Peter’s clients. Branched out to venture capitalism in the ’90s.”

“Isn’t that pretty risky? How did he do during the bust?”

“Clive is savvy, and he saw over the horizon in time. He also leaned on Peter a lot for advice. Fiscally, he’s pretty conservative. The dot com bust impacted him a little, but he regrouped. Made it through the last recession just fine.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And Clive was there the night Peter died, right? How do you think he stacks up in the suspect department? Were he and Peter on good terms?”

“They were on very good terms. Peter trusted Clive implicitly. More than anyone else. Probably because Clive didn’t quake in Peter’s presence. He treated him with respect but told him what he thought, not what he thought Peter wanted to hear.”

“Unlike Terry.”

“Or Emma, or me, I guess. Peter was a great arguer. If you told him something he didn’t want to hear, he’d argue. He’d argue so hard it would wear you down. The next time you spoke, he’d usually concede your point of view if, upon reflection, he thought it made sense. But he’d never tell you that you were right or that he was wrong. He’d only mention, in passing, that he’d changed his mind.”

“That would drive me nuts.”

“It did. I was learning how to deal with it, call him out. Clive was a great example. The few times I saw them together were the times when Peter seemed most at ease. He considered Clive an equal. I’d hoped to reach the same place with Peter at some point.”

“You liked Peter, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know if ‘like’ is the word,” Gus said. “I began to appreciate him. And I looked forward to our meetings. You know I was Bryan’s son-in-law for five years.” He glanced over at me and smiled. “So I don’t know if I could ever like him, but I did respect him. Sorry, I know you had issues.”

“My father had issues … ” I let the silence hang for a second.

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