Chapter 11 - Robert’s Last Meal
Detective Foster reconstructed Sunday dinner.
Twenty years earlier.
People present:
Me.
Tomas.
Robert.
Our parents, Margaret and Henry Hayes.
Six children, ages nineteen to nine.
Chaos.
My mother had died twelve years ago.
Father fifteen.
No testimony.
But Sarah remembered.
She was nineteen.
“Uncle Robert didn’t drink wine that night.”
Why matter?
Tomas had told original investigator Robert may have mixed medication while drinking.
Sarah remembered Robert was driving.
He had iced tea.
Who poured?
Tomas.
Michael remembered:
“Dad made a joke that Uncle Robert was finally drinking something sweet.”
Could be memory contamination.
Children now know theory.
Police cautious.
Then Claire remembered Robert dropping glass?
She was fifteen. Not reliable enough.
No need.
More concrete:
A photograph taken at dinner showed Robert with a distinctive tumbler on table.
Meaningless.
Then dishwasher? Gone.
No physical.
Then Elaine Porter’s EMS statement.
Robert said:
“Tomas did it again.”
He had called neighbor.
That was strongest contemporaneous.
Then Robert's physician note days before:
Patient concerned BIL may have intentionally exposed him to spouse’s cardiac medication. Advised avoid shared food/drink and contact authorities if threat.
Why didn't Robert contact police immediately?
Embarrassment.
No proof.
Planned to talk to lawyer/bank Monday.
Then Tomas’s prescription refill.
Pharmacy records old but insurer archive showed refill nine days before Robert death.
Quantity.
No pill count afterward.
Not enough.
Then Robert’s toxicology.
Same medication.
No prescription.
Then Tomas lied that Robert had taken his pills.
Then after death, he asked about trust and Helen death.
Then forged home equity.
Then digital file:
Need stop.
Then current forgery scheme proves willingness to falsify documents but cannot be used simply as propensity; prosecutor would seek limited admissibility for motive/consciousness depending judge.
Need not legal deep.
Then jail call.
All calls recorded with warning.
Tomas called Adriana.
They had separated years ago but remained contact.
“Robert’s ghost is back.”
Adriana:
“What did you do?”
Tomas:
“Nothing they can prove.”
That phrase.
Not confession.
Then:
“They’re using the medicine against me.”
Adriana:
“You told me that was accident.”
Silence.
Then Tomas:
“It was supposed to look like one.”
There.
The prosecutor played recording for us only after charging? Police immediately had. That sentence changed everything.
“It was supposed to look like one.”
Defense would argue refers to what? The medication mix-up? Maybe.
Then Adriana:
“You said he was going to ruin you.”
Tomas:
“He was.”
Then:
“I fixed it and got nothing.”
Silence.
Adriana:
“What does that mean?”
Tomas hung up.
I fixed it and got nothing.
Not poetic.
Not ambiguous enough.
The next day prosecutor charged Tomas with first degree murder.
He was sixty four.
Already held on fraud.
Now no bond.
My children reacted.
Sarah vomited.
Michael punched wall? Avoid glorify. He went outside and kicked trash can maybe. Better he sat silent.
Claire said:
“I don’t want him to die in prison.”
Then cried because felt guilty.
I said:
“Sentencing is not yours.”
No death penalty? Virginia abolished death penalty. First degree can life/20+.
Then Tomas’s attorney released statement:
Mr. Parker denies killing Robert Hayes. The jail call is taken out of context and refers to a financial dispute.
Expected.
Then he requested plea discussions.
Prosecutor would not offer less before evidence review.
Then Robert’s body? Buried. Retained tissue enough. No exhumation necessary. Good.
Then I visited Robert grave.
I had not in a year.
“I'm sorry.”
Wind.
Then corrected myself.
“No.”
I was tired of apologizing to dead men for crimes other people committed.
“I miss you.”
Better.
Then:
“You were difficult.”
I laughed.
“I should have listened more.”
But he had also hidden too much.
He could have told me trust details.
Could have called police sooner.
He was not prophet.
He was brother.
Then I left apple pie? Too sentimental. No.
At car, Sarah called.
“Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Dad wants to speak to us before trial.”
All six had received request through attorneys for mediated family meeting.
“Do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you think?”
“I think you should decide separately.”
Tomas had always bundled them as children.
Maybe now each adult needed own answer.
Sarah said no.
Grace no.
Noah no.
Ethan no.
Claire maybe later.
Michael said yes.
That frightened me.
May you like
But it was his boundary.
Not mine.
