Unfinished Business - Barbara Seranella by Barbara Seranella Page B

He
raised a tanned hand and beckoned the two men to follow him toward
the back of the store. His white silk shirt, tucked into
tight-fitting designer jeans, billowed as he walked.
    A standing screen divided the shop space and
concealed a large industrial double stainless steel sink. Wooden
drain boards held buckets of baby's breath and fern fronds. Blocks of
green Oasis, rolls of florist wire, and sphagnum moss were stacked on
shelves above the sink. Glass-fronted coolers held additional buckets
of long-stemmed roses, lilies, and carnations.
    They passed a thin, long-haired blond man spearing
bamboo skewers through hibiscus blossoms. The three men entered a
small office. St. John shut the door behind them. There were only two
chairs, the padded one on casters that serviced the crammed desk and
a three-legged stool. Bergman pulled out the desk chair and turned it
so that it was facing out.
    "Please," St. John said, indicating that
Bergman sit. "Forget I'm here." He took up a position
against the wall and focused on Shue.
    Shue lowered himself onto the stool and fixed Alfred
Bergman with an apologetic smile.
    "Are you a relative of Diane Bergman?"
    "l have a sister-in-law named Diane. Why? What's
this about?"
    "I'm sorry to have to inform you. Mrs. Bergman
has been found dead."
    "Oh," Alfred said, his posture deflating as
his breath left him.
    "Where did you find her? I mean, what happened?
Was it some sort of a car accident?"
    One point for Alfred, St. John thought. No audible
gasp, no sharp intake of breath for the sake of the investigator.
Alfred was either genuinely stunned or he was a clever actor.
    "I need a family member to ID the body"
Shue said. "If you're not up to it, perhaps there are other
relatives in the area."
    "I'll do it. The only family she has is some
crazy aunt in Palm Springs." He lowered his tone to sotto
voce . "Lives in one of those trailer
communities." He pressed his fingertips to his lips and snorted
demurely. "I was certain she'd outlast us all." He didn't
seem disappointed.
    "Anyone else that she was close to?"
    "You mean like a boyfriend?"
    "No," Alfred said emphatically. "I
mean, I'm sure she had friends, she was on enough committees. But if
you're asking if she was seeing anyone romantically then I'm sure I
don't know. I doubt it. She wouldn't have done anything to endanger
her public persona. Besides, she lived for my brother. Poor soul."
    St. John wasn't sure as to which soul the man was
referring, but he kept his questions to himself for the moment.
    Shue leaned forward on his stool and clasped his
hands between his open knees. "One of my duties as coroner is to
work with the family members on how they want to take care of the
remains. Are you the man I should be talking to?"
    "Oh, I suppose," Alfred said, sighing
deeply. Tears filled his eyes. "You know, we've just been
through all this with my brother. He passed six months ago. Diane
started her personal war on lung cancer, spending all his money on
that cancer center."
    "And everybody loved her?" Shue prompted.
    Alfred pursed his lips. “Oh, sure. She was the
queen of the charity circuit. Not the first time a woman from her
background has bought her way into society." He waved his hand
in front of his face, as if to erase the last words he'd spoken. "I
don't mean any disrespect."
    St. John made a dismissive shake of his head as if to
say, No problem, perfectly understandable .
    Alfred turned to him. "And you're the police?"
    St. John opened his wallet and fished out a business
card. "I've been assigned to investigate the death."
    "Was she murdered?" he asked, looking
aghast.
    "Yes, sir," St. John said, thinking how the
expression of shocked outrage suited Alfred. St. John wondered if he
practiced it in the mirror. "When is the last time you saw Mrs.
Bergman?"
    "Last week. Last Tuesday."
    "And where was this?"
    "At the attorney's office. We had probate
business. Oh God," he said. "I guess this changes
everything"
    St. John said, "What's the