sigh, then sank down into one of two leather club chairs that bracketed the fire-place. The hide was a dark, subtly mottled green; contrasted with the flickering orange flames in the hearth, the polished brass of the fender rail and the crisp white paint of the walls, the picture should have been one of affluence and serenity. Instead, it was somber and cheerless.
“Take a seat, Polycrates. I’m not going to bite. What’s the problem this time?”
Again, Rosco saw no reason for beating around the bush, but he also had no wish to hit Collins with more bad news if he could help it. “I just came from talking to your barn manager about the stable fire—”
“Don’t tell me Orlando’s finally figured it out?” Todd grumbled. “Sure he did. Of course, he did. The guy’s no dummy . . . I have to admit, I took a certain amount of perverse joy in watching him squirm and fess up to doing something he didn’t. But I guess he was bound to learn how the blaze began sooner or later. Heather never was able to keep her mouth shut.” When Rosco made no reply, the patriarch’s heavy voice continued. “This is not a family that keeps secrets from each other. I’m well aware that Heather started that damn fire, and I also know precisely how—and why. She admitted the whole thing just as soon as the emergency crews left. She felt awful about the situation. Naturally, she would. Anyone would. She sure as hell hadn’t planned to instigate that kind of conflagration when she followed my wife to the stable . . .” Collins permitted himself the briefest of pauses before plunging ahead. It was almost as though he’d forgotten Rosco was in the room and was speaking out of his own deep need for confession.
“Heather told me she and Michael had strong suspicions Ryan was sleeping with Orlando—among others. A lot of different men, according to them. So Heather decided to spy on Ryan and catch her redhanded—which is how the whole mess started. Heather was trying to get me down there to confront my wife, discover her in a compromising position. My daughter was the one who was reaching for the damn tack room telephone to call the Big House, not Polk. The rest of the story you’ve already heard: the booze bottle, the damn space heater; it was an accident waiting to happen. Unfortunately, it was an accident that seems to have been the first in a tragic chain of events. Ironic, isn’t it, that a bottle of whiskey could cause such ruin?” Todd paused again. His craggy face was covered in a dark and angry frown.
“What about Orlando’s crack on the head? Some folks would suggest that a jealous husband might have left him there to die?”
Todd shook his head. “No, that’s not me; I don’t favor the death penalty. I’d rather sit and watch people rot and pay for their sins for the rest of their lives, day in and day out. Death is too easy for some people. I saw how the beam hit Orlando, so did Jack. Don’t forget we were the ones who pulled him out.”
“Your witness is dead, Mr. Collins.”
“That he is; but Orlando’s alive . . . I know what you’re thinking, Polycrates: ‘Why did we let him take the fall for the fire?’ Well, let me just say that it was easier than airing all this dirty laundry in public. And like I said, I took some enjoyment in watching him sweat bullets. I think he owes me one, wouldn’t you agree? And being blamed for causing an accidental fire isn’t necessarily a career-breaker. Not everywhere, at least.”
Rosco didn’t speak for a second or two. He intuited that expressing any surprise over Collins’s admission of Heather’s guilt, as well as his prior knowledge of his wife’s unfaithfulness, might force the man to clam up. Instead, Rosco ventured a soothing, “Your daughter must love you a good deal, Mr. Collins. Both your daughters.”
“Yeah, and I was the dope who tossed them aside. Married a woman who couldn’t hold a candle to either of them . . . didn’t listen to them saying that Ryan wasn’t worthy of my affection. I cut them off, turned my back on them—and Chip, too. Why do us old dogs do stupid things like that? Why do we let pretty young women flatter us into thinking they care? And then why do we ignore our true families,