"Robb, J D - In Death 10 - Loyalty in Death (1)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

"No, I'm fine."
She entered the office. The first thing she noticed was that it was dramatically
opposed to J. C.'s. This was cool colors, sleek lines, rich sophistication. No
silly animal chairs or grinning droid dolls. Here the muted grays and blues were
designed to soothe. And the wide surface of the desk, uncluttered with gadgets,
clear for business.
B. Donald Branson stood behind that desk. He didn't have the bulk of his brother
but was slim in a sleekly tailored suit. His hair was a dull gold, slicked back
from a high forehead. Eyebrows, thick and peaked, were shades darker over tired
eyes of pale green.
"Lieutenant Dallas, it's kind of you to come in person." His voice was as quiet
and soothing as the room. "I meant to contact you, to thank you for your
kindness when you called last night to inform me of my brother's death."
"I'm sorry to intrude at this time, Mr. Branson."
"No, please. Sit down. We're all trying to deal with it."
"I gather your brother was well liked."
"Loved," he corrected as they took their seats. "It was impossible not to love
J. C. That's why it's so hard to imagine him gone, and in this way. Lisbeth, she
was like part of the family. My God." He looked away for a moment, trying to
compose himself.
"I'm sorry," he managed. "What can I do for you?"
"Mr. Branson, let me get this over with as quickly as I can. Ms. Cooke claims
she discovered your brother was involved with another woman."
"What? That's absurd." Branson dismissed the idea with one angry wave of his
hand. "J. C. was devoted to Lisbeth. He never looked at another woman."
"If that's true, why would she have killed him? Did they quarrel often,
violently?"
"J. C. couldn't maintain an argument for five minutes," Branson said wearily.
"It just wasn't in him. He had no violence, and he certainly was no womanizer."
"You don't believe he could have been interested in someone else?"
"If he was -- which is difficult to believe -- he would have told Lisbeth. He
would have been honest with her and dissolved their relationship before starting
another. J. C. had almost childishly honest standards."
"If I accept that, then I'm looking for motive. You and your bother were co-
presidents. Who inherits his share?"
"I do." He folded his hands on the desk. "Our grandfather founded this company.
J. C. and I have been at the helm together over thirty years. In our business
agreement it's stipulated that the survivor or the survivor's heirs inherit the
partnership."
"Could he have designated any portion of it to Lisbeth Cooke?"
"Not of the company, no. We have a contract."
"Of his personal funds and holdings, then."
"Certainly, he'd be free to designate any or all of his personal estate to
whomever he pleased."
"Would we be talking substantial?"
"Yes, I believe we would say substantial." Then he shook his head. "You think
she killed him for money? I can't believe that. He was always very generous with
her, and Lisbeth is -- was -- a well-paid member of this company. Money
shouldn't have been an issue."
"It's an angle," was all Eve said. "I'd like the name of his lawyer, and I'd