Murder in Montecito - Part 1

My father loved murder mysteries - he would read many authors including Arthur Conan Doyle?and P.D. James but as would be true for any murder mystery aficionado, his favorite was Agatha Christie. ?He amassed a collection of most of her books and when he first gave me a copy of “Murder of Roger Ackroyd”, I was hooked. ?There is something to be said about how murder mysteries stimulate our problem solving skills and just keep us so engaged in what unfolds.?At any rate, I decided to take a stab at writing one and here is the first part.?Disclaimer - I did not use ChatGPT in writing this ??

His pupils were dilated. His face was ashen and lips were swollen akin to the aplomb of a botox shot. The police medico checked his pulse. Sir Edward Lawrence at the age of 72 was pronounced dead at 8 pm on the first day of April, 2022. The cause of death was determined to be an overdose of valium.

For the Lawrence household, the day had started just as any other day this time of the year in Montecito, California. Sir Edward (or Eddie as he preferred) woke up at the crack of dawn as the rays of the morning sun filtered through the shades of his eastward facing window.?Sunlight waking him every morning was one of his great pleasures.?As was the joy in turning around to give his wife Adele a peck on her cheek before getting out of bed - a pleasure that was now a memory since her passing a year ago.?Those gut-wrenching first few days after her death were etched in his mind. He would hug a bolster as he fell asleep with his eyes tearing up uncontrollably. After forty-five years of marriage, one starts to take things for granted. And then to suddenly have his bedrock taken away left him unmoored. It ripped away a part of his soul and engendered in him both a bitterness to life and a mistrust of people. Did that play a role in his demise? The resultant insomnia from those days led to his valium prescription to ensure he slept fitfully every night.

As he got up and walked to the bathroom, Bellaputina started walking with him and in an impulse, he kicked her and she was flung across the room. She growled and purred loudly while still in the air before landing on her side. It was a ritual that occurred on some mornings and she somehow did not learn from these aerial indignations. She quickly got up, glared at him with her green eyes and scurried out of the room. Eddie never liked that Russian Blue cat. Adele had paid a king’s ransom to acquire her in an auction four years ago and had developed immense affection for the feline. At times he had felt he was competing with the cat for Adele’s affections and rued his promise to Adele that whatever happened to her, he would look after Bellaputina. Thankfully he never agreed to abstain from using her as a way to improve his knee reflexes.

He looked forward to his round of golf at the Montecito Club that morning. As any avid golfer will affirm, there is a special joy in conquering a Jack Nicklaus designed course. In Eddie’s case that translated to ensuring he could break 90 (for golf novices that translates to an average score no worse than a bogey on each hole). With improvements both in his overall diet and fitness, it amplified the arrogant swagger he normally displayed before each round. As he drove his golf cart to the first tee, he was met by his playing partners - his daughter Adelaide, her husband James Fitzgerald who had played varsity golf in high school and his friend Jeff Christo who had served under him in the army years ago.?

Adelaide was a spitting image of her mother and ever since she was born he carried a soft corner for her. In spite of her dubious life decisions including getting married to James, he would never admonish or slight her in any way. She represented the best part of him and he would do anything to ensure she was happy and filled with joy. ?That sentiment did not hold true for her husband.?James was a swarthy bloke who had a knack for creating ventures that started with great fanfare and then slowly crashed and burned.?Eddie himself had invested in a few of those ventures only to see his money dissipate in a year or two.?Adelaide however was smitten by James and never had a harsh word to say of her husband.?Ever since their whirlwind romance a couple of years ago followed in short notice by their wedding, she had found a sense of purpose in her life.?As she was growing up in the environs of Montecito, she always felt a sense of entitlement that she was not sure she truly deserved.?With James and his more humble beginnings, she felt more at ease.?Although Eddie saw the happiness in his daughter when she was with James, he had it unconsciously embedded in his mind that James was taking advantage of her. ?

Jeff Christo had been Eddie’s acolyte throughout his service in the army and even after his discharge.?He was a real estate agent who struggled with selling homes. He possessed neither the contacts, the personality or the savvy to close on deals in such a coveted community as Montecito.?Lying east of Santa Barbara, Montecito with its secluded estates, majestic mountains and immense popularity among celebrities was prime hunting ground for any agent.?The place was so popular among “famous” people that on a celebrities per capita basis it was ranked higher than Beverly Hills.?Montecito was home to the likes of Ariana Grande, Rob Lowe, Oprah Winfrey and that other “royal” couple. Sadly Jeff was not able to take advantage of this and wallowed in “sucking up” to Eddie to make sure he could make a decent living. ?Eddie owned 25% of the Montecito Chaparral Agency - the LLC they had started together eight years ago.?He played a role in introducing Jeff to wealthy buyers, helped in “persuading” buyers to make an offer, and in months where commissions fell short would pay Jeff’s salary.?As he did in the army, Eddie felt he needed to protect Jeff from the vagaries of what life can throw at each of us.

The progression of the day’s round was on par (pun intended) with previous rounds they had played together.?James as always dominated with his long drives and superb short game around the greens.?Jeff was solid as usual but at times purposely missed putts or chunked his chip shots to ensure he would not outscore Eddie - a showing of being obsequious to his former boss. ?The rules of golf explicitly state to “play the ball as it lies” but Eddie every now and then would invoke “Trumpian” moves and adjust the lie accordingly.?Flouting the rules of golf was second nature to him - he was not one to have anything dictated to him in any aspect of his life.?After his drive on the 18th hole, Eddie walked towards the corner of the tee box to take in the stunning coastal view - he loved this golf course and took in a deep breath of the ocean air. He sensed a tinge of melancholy in the air not knowing this was going to be his last round on this amazing course.

After the round all of them convened for lunch at the clubhouse. They feasted on a sumptuous lunch spread:?a seared Ahi salad with wasabi dressing, petite samosas made with sweet potato, Montecito-Primo burgers for the men and a pastrami sandwich for Adelaide and peach cobbler for dessert. ?Eddie enjoyed the lunch but felt a sense of unease in devouring too much of the Ahi salad.?His doctor had warned him about tuna giving him an upset stomach.?The indulgence would churn his innards more than he expected and cause hm to spend not-so-quality time with multiple commodes for the rest of the day. ?

As he was making his way to the restroom, he ran into his financial advisor William Green who handled all of Eddie’s books.?They exchanged brief pleasantries since they were due to meet again later in the day.?Due to the demise of his previous advisor in a freak ski accident, Eddie had signed onto Bill a couple of years ago but was miffed at Bill’s shoddy work that led to an IRS audit the previous year.?And in keeping with his general mistrust of people, he suspected that Bill was overcharging him and skimming from the top.?In fact he had noticed a sizable discrepancy in the quarterly roll-up and was planning to confront him about it this afternoon.?With a name like “Bill Green” Eddie should have thought twice before signing him up. After lunch all of them headed back to Eddie’s mansion. ?

“And that Captain Trudeau was how the morning transpired on that fateful day”.?I gave this extended summary to my immediate superior three days after Eddie’s death.?Captain Trudeau was of French Canadian descent and had been with the Montecito police force for more than a decade. ?This was the first time I was assigned a murder case as a junior detective and wanted to make sure I captured every facet of the case.?As an Agatha Christie fan, I hoped my painstaking attention to detail would reveal that “a-ha” moment to nail the perpetrator. ?However my investigations till now did not look promising.?I was hoping that if I verbally related my findings to my captain it would trigger some connection or detail that I had missed.?“It is a most intriguing morning, n’est ce pas?” I told Captain Trudeau.?His smirk suggested he did not appreciate both my French and my attempt to channel the Hercule Poirot within me.

Today being the start of the second quarter, Eddie had a pre-planned set of meetings - this was the time of year to negotiate on allowances with his family members, salaries with his household staff and payments to those who provided services to him.?His afternoon was laid out in a methodical fashion thanks to Martha Baker who was his chief-of-staff at the mansion.?She was a stickler for details and schedules - punctuality could have been her middle name.?Although she had only been working in the Lawrence household for six months, she was familiar with each person meeting Eddie this afternoon.?She herself was to meet him at the end of the afternoon session but was not looking forward to it. ?Eddie was a demanding boss and many a time Martha felt he did not appreciate how dedicated she was to her work.?As the events of the afternoon would reveal, Eddie was a man reviled by those who did not know him well and sadly enough even by many who knew him well.?Was there a trigger that afternoon for someone to translate that revulsion to murder? ?

TO BE CONTINUED.....