Chapter 7: Walter's Last Move
Walter did not try quietly.
The call came four days later, on a Wednesday morning, while Eli was sitting at Rose's kitchen table.
It was the first time he'd been inside her apartment — a small, careful space with good light and shelves of books organized by color.
She had made coffee.
They had been talking for two hours already when his phone lit up.
The name on the screen was not Walter.
It was a number Eli didn't recognize, with a local area code.
He answered.
"Is this Eli Marsh?" A man's voice, clipped and professional.
"Yes."
"My name is Harrison Cole.
I'm an attorney representing Walter Marsh.
I'm calling to advise you that Mr.
Marsh is prepared to pursue a defamation claim against Dr.
Aldous Mercer, and potentially against any other parties who have made false or damaging statements about Mr.
Marsh to his son or to any other individuals."
Eli set his coffee down.
Across the table, Rose watched his face.
"He's threatening to sue the doctor," Eli said, not to Cole, but to Rose.
Cole said, "Mr.
Marsh also wishes to communicate that he is prepared to amend his estate planning in light of recent events, which may affect certain financial arrangements that have previously been assumed."
"He's going to cut me out of his will," Eli said, still to Rose.
"He's saying that?" Rose asked.
"His lawyer is saying it."
"Mr.
Marsh feels that—" Cole began.
"Tell him," Eli said, "that I'll be speaking to a family law attorney this week.
And tell him that Dr.
Mercer's statement has already been copied to three people, so threatening the doctor doesn't accomplish what he thinks it does." He paused.
"And tell him the will doesn't matter."
Cole was quiet for a moment.
"I'll pass that on."
The call ended.
Rose poured more coffee into Eli's cup without asking.
"He's scared," she said.
"He should be."
"Scared people do unpredictable things." She sat back down.
"What do you want to do?"
Eli thought about it.
"I want to talk to him.
Not on his terms.
Not in his house.
I want him to sit across from me and say out loud what he did, without a lawyer in the room."
"He won't."
"I think he might.
I think part of him—" Eli stopped.
"There's a version of my father that knows what he did was wrong.
I don't know how large that version is.
But I saw his face when Dr.
Mercer walked across the lawn.
That wasn't anger.
That was something else."
"Fear of consequences isn't the same as remorse," Rose said.
"I know."
They were quiet for a moment.
Outside the window, the street noise came through — a delivery truck, someone's music two floors up, the ordinary sound of a day continuing.
"He called Diane last night," Eli said.
"She didn't answer.
She's staying with her sister."
"How do you know?"
"She texted me.
She said she was sorry.
She said she should have pushed harder when she found the letter." He looked at his coffee.
"I told her she didn't owe me an apology.
I don't know if that was the right thing to say."
"It was a kind thing," Rose said.
"She wasn't the one who did this."
"No.
But she lived in the house where it happened.
That's its own kind of weight."
Eli looked up at her.
"Do you feel sorry for her?"
Rose considered it.
"I feel sorry for everyone who had to arrange themselves around your father's lie," she said.
"That includes Diane.
It includes you.
It includes Dr.
Mercer." She picked up her cup.
"It doesn't include Walter."
Three days after that, Walter called Eli directly.
No lawyer.
No warning.
"I want to talk," he said.
"Where?"
"The house."
"No," Eli said.
"Somewhere neutral."
A pause.
"Fine.
The coffee place on Alderton Street.
Thursday.
Ten o'clock."
"I'll be there," Eli said.
"And I'm bringing Rose."
A very long pause.
"All right," Walter said.
And hung up.
Rose looked at Eli when he told her.
She didn't look afraid.
She looked like someone who had been waiting for a long time and had learned, through waiting, not to expect too much from a single meeting, but to show up for it anyway.
"Thursday," she said.
"Thursday," he confirmed.
May you like
She nodded once.
And went back to her book.
