“Officers?” says Michael. “Do you really suspect that someone in this room murdered my father?”
“It’s a possibility,” says Ceepak.
“How can you think such a thing?” This from David.
“We have our reasons.”
“Well, what are they?” demands Judith.
And since Ceepak won’t tell a lie, he goes ahead and tells the truth: “The night before his murder, your father spoke with Rabbi Bronstein. Told the rabbi he was quote surrounded by assassins end quote. We suspect he meant all of you and, perhaps, his home health aides.”
The Rosens shut up and sip their drinks. Silently.
Finally, Michael pipes up. “I’m due back in L.A. on Wednesday. But I could book a different flight. There are some things I need to take care of here in New Jersey.”
“What sort of things?” says Judith.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would,” says David.
“Production issues,” says Michael, kind of coyly. “The same production issues I told you about last night, David.”
David narrows his eyes. Michael narrows his. The two brothers look like they could launch into some serious neck-throttling at any second.
“Rest assured,” says Ceepak, “we will do everything in our power to bring this matter to an expeditious resolution.”
“Besides, Michael,” says Judith, with a smirk, “you might want to be here after Dad’s will goes through probate.”
Michael flutters his eyes. “Why?”
“To collect your inheritance.”
“Ha!” is all Michael has to say about that.
“Be advised,” says Ceepak, “probate can be a long, tedious process.”
David shakes his head. “Steven Robins over at Bernhardt, Hutchens, and Catherman has already paid the filing fee and given the Surrogate Court a death certificate and a copy of the will.”
“Who, pray tell, is this Steven Robins?” says Michael.
“Dad’s lawyer,” says Judith. “You’d know that if you lived here.”