“When did you find out about me?”
“Not long after you moved into Callico House. Albert told me you were special, that’s all. He didn’t say how or why, but he did make a point of saying there was nothing shady going on between you. And that he wanted to do everything he could to protect you. He wanted someone to look out for you—unobtrusively, of course—when he wasn’t around.”
Apart from Albert, the only person I ever warmed to in Callico House was Alice. Had Coleman kept his distance on purpose?
“I used to watch you swim, you know? In the basement pool.”
“I saw you.”
“You did?” he asks, turning to me briefly but then training his eyes back on the road. “Yeah, of course you did. I had a tough time believing—honestly, I thought you were some punk he felt sorry for and dragged off the streets—so he challenged me to go keep time while you swam. Man, you set world records down there, moved through that pool like some goddamn water snake. After that I assumed he was grooming you to join the Olympic squad or something. How wrong was I?”
“Did Alice know about me?”
“Nobody knew. Albert was adamant about that. He knew you could handle yourself, but, like I said, he wanted to protect you. I asked him if you were wanted by the police. I remember he answered cryptically with something like, “Not by the police, no.” Maybe I should have figured it out then. I felt a little sorry for him. Caught between a rock and a hard place.”
“My existence wasn’t the reason for the minibus crash, Coleman. I hope you know that. I overheard Victoria telling the family she thought I might have been involved somehow.”
“I know exactly what happened. Sylvie and I are still close, remember? She filled me in on everything at the hospital. At least rough justice has been served. Hey, listen to me. I sound like the tag line to some cheap thriller movie.”
I smirk and look out of the window, noticing the brighter light. We are out from the arch of trees, still bordered by hedgerows but with daylight spilling through the windscreen and sunroof.
“It’s already gone two,” says Coleman, “and it’s going to be a long drive, in case you want to catch some zees.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Okay then. Unless you need a comfort stop, I suggest we keep going until around six. I’ll find us a motel for the night. We can get dinner, check in with Romano, grab a few hours’ sleep, then set off early tomorrow morning. How does that sound?”
I nod my agreement, and he prods his display to play soft jazz. What with the comfort of the soft leather seats and the music, I find myself loosening up, and I don’t want that. I need to stay alert. After sending Lorenzo a text to let him know I’m fine and ask how he is, I continue asking Coleman questions. He seems happy to continue answering.
“How did you become a part of the Callico household? I got the impression you despised them almost as much as I did.”
“I got to know Albert through Sylvie and, yeah, he had a bit of the British stiff upper lip shit going on, but he was a good guy at heart. Much later, I met Victoria at a charity function Sylvie and Albert were hosting. Believe it or not, Victoria could be fun. This was when her grandfather ruled the roost. Our union was approved by both our families. Something I found out too late about Victoria is that she gets bored quickly—hotels, restaurants, handbags, shoes and, of course, people. And I include myself in that last category. She never said as much, but I think she saw me as a financial lifeline in case the old man left her nothing when he croaked. Victoria only really cares about herself, her wealth and her status.”
I notice how quickly Coleman’s mood clouds over when he talks about his wife, so I decide to be diplomatic and change the topic.
“When did you find out about Eagle House?”
“A few years ago. Albert showed me photos and these beautiful architectural drawings of the villa. That was a secret he asked me to keep from everyone, including you. I think he wanted it to be a surprise, somewhere off the beaten track where you both could feel at home. Honestly, I got one hell of a kick out of seeing regular updates on progress and having his family believe he’d bought a dud. Looks like he had the last laugh.”
“Not remote enough, though. Did Romano tell you that someone paid for a bunch of thugs to have me killed off? One of the Callico family.”
Coleman says nothing, and when I look over at him, his expression has not changed, but he mutters a barely audible expletive.
“You know something, don’t you?”
He lets out an exaggerated sigh.
“Not for sure, but I think I can guess. How old were you when you came to live with us, with Albert?”
“Seventeen.”
“While you were still in the foster care system?”
“I’d skipped out of the system by then. Unofficially. But at eighteen, you’re considered an adult and capable of fending for yourself.”
“Do you remember signing any documents for Albert? When you came to live with him?”
“All the time. I accompanied him to countless stuffy offices and, once I’d turned eighteen, even co-signed things for him. He’d usually explain what I was endorsing, although I didn’t always pay attention. That’s how I ended up owning Eagle House. I’m sorry, what are you getting at?”