“No, thank you. I just want to ask Norman about something that Dolores and I came across in Willis’s office. Something we don’t quite understand.”
Norman said cordially, “I’ve told Dolores repeatedly, I stand ready to help in any way I can.”
“I am so glad you feel that way. We found a folder labled ‘Norman’s Screwups’ and I am afraid the notes, all in Willis’s handwriting, indicate numerous instances of financial mismanagement on your part.”
“Jessica, you barely knew Willis but Clancy can tell you, even when Willis Nickens made a mistake, it was never his mistake. It was always someone else’s.” He walked over and put an arm around Clancy’s shoulders. “C’mon, Clancy, tell her I’m right.”
“Willis was a perfectionist and did have a temper.” I noticed Clancy chose his words very carefully.
“And did Willis ever make a mistake? Never.” Norman raised his voice. Flecks of spittle began to accumulate on his mustache. “Ha! He made mistakes all the time, and then attached them to me. It was his mismanagement that hurt both of us financially, and that’s the truth.”
“And yet somehow the proceeds of those ‘mistakes’ wound up in a tax-sheltered personal trust that you opened some years ago on the island of Nevis.” I looked him straight in the eye.
“What are you talking about?” Norman puffed out his chest and tried to look indignant. “To maximize my retirement funds I may have some offshore accounts, but they contain only my personal savings. No company funds whatsoever.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Norman, but that’s just not true. My friend Harry McGraw, who is a private investigator, was able to discover that over the years, each time one of these business ‘mistakes’ occurred, you made a similar-sized deposit in your offshore trust account. If Harry was able to discover it, then I suppose Willis found out about your secret account and confronted you about the money it held. So he had to go.”
“That’s absurd. Positively absurd. Willis and I were friends and business partners for more than thirty years. You are making this all up to try to get your friend Dolores out of the sheriff’s line of vision. She’s nothing but a schemer who married Willis and then killed him for the fortune that should rightfully go to Clancy and his sweet daughter.” Norman looked to Clancy for support.
Clancy, however, stepped away from Norman’s side and said, “Keep me out of this. What Jessica is saying does make some sense.”
“Sense?” Norman stormed. “You mean nonsense. All she has is a coincidence of withdrawals and deposits.”
“That’s not quite all,” I said. “Do you remember when you and Clancy were giving me tidbits for Willis’s obituary and eulogy?”
Norman looked at me with knitted eyebrows. “Yeah, so?”
“You wanted me to be sure to mention that Willis was a dapper dresser. You said you were sure that Willis was ‘up in heaven complaining to the angels that he looks ridiculous wearing a tuxedo with his ratty old brown suede slippers’.”
“So?” Norman’s sneer was getting aggressive.
“I was wondering when you saw Willis wearing his suit with his suede slippers rather than his patent leather shoes.”
Norman shrugged. “That’s a serious question? You are asking me about footwear? I guess it was the night he died. After dinner, before bed, I suppose. I can’t honestly remember.”
“Well, it must have been very close to when he died, because the medical examiner said Willis died around midnight. It was well past eleven thirty when I saw him in the office with Clancy. He still had his dress shoes on. Do you recall that, Clancy?”
Clancy answered, “He certainly did. He had his feet on the desk and kept crossing and recrossing his ankles. Those shoes were practically in my face. Sorry, Norman, but that’s the truth.”
“And yet, I found the shoes at Willis’s bedside, where he had set them down after he took them off for the night. I suppose then you, Norman, came knocking at his bedroom door to invite him out to the garden for a cigar, pretending it was some sort of peace mission. He slid into his slippers and went outside with you.
“I’m not sure if you planned to kill him or if, during your conversation, one thing led to another. But when I found his body he was wearing the slippers. Today Deputy Lascomb assured me that I was the only person from the house who saw Willis’s body in the pond. In fact, he said he was surprised that when the sheriff went up to the house he didn’t bring Dolores back to the koi pond with him. So it’s clear, at least to me, that only the murderer would have seen Willis wearing the slippers.”
Norman pushed past me to the door. “I’ve had quite enough of this parlor game. I’m going out to find more congenial company. Don’t wait up.”
He yanked the door open. Sheriff Halvorson and Deputy Lascomb were standing in the foyer. Norman froze when the sheriff said, “Care to come with us, sir? We have a few questions we’d like to ask you.”
As Deputy Lascomb took Norman’s arm he gave me a broad wink, and I flashed him a thumbs-up.
Behind me I heard Clancy mutter, “I need a drink.”
I walked over to Elton, who was standing in the library doorway. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, ma’am. Easiest job I ever had. Look out the window, open the front door when the sheriff’s car pulls up, and point to the door of the room you were in. Sort of like knowing ahead of time which door to open in that story ‘The Lady, or the Tiger?’”
I linked my arm through his. “Shall we round up the household and tell them the good news?”
Chapter Thirty-one
More than a week had gone by since Willis Nickens’s funeral. Dolores was behind the wheel of her snazzy red Porsche. I was in the passenger seat and my luggage was tucked in the backseat.
Dolores said, “I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through any of this without you, Jessica. I can’t thank you enough.”
“I’m glad I was here to help. Don’t forget I did have my picture taken with the famous Busted Plug. That’s certainly something to show off.”
“Oh my, that seems so long ago,” Dolores said. “But look at the progress I’ve made. Your suggestion of calling the business department of the college with an eye toward hiring some help to organize all of Willis’s business files was brilliant. Two of the applicants are so knowledgeable I may hire them both. It will take a while but eventually I will have the files at the ready for my new lawyer. Francis McGuire recommends her highly, and we have an appointment tomorrow. Marcus Holmes will soon be history.”
“Judging by the immense floral arrangement he sent to the house after the funeral, I suspect he is starting to believe he is on his way out,” I said.
“I instructed my new lawyer, Ms. Salazar, to contact Marcus immediately to let him know she would be taking over and to arrange for an orderly transfer of any necessary documents. I suspect you’re right. She contacted him and he ordered the flowers. As if roses and orchids would sway me after the way he treated me. Ha.”
Dolores switched topics. “More importantly, I had a heart-to-heart with Clancy last night. He thinks it is essential for Abby to have me in her life. We are really all each other has left. We discussed the idea of using Success City Cars when Clancy plans to, shall we say, socialize. He seemed thankful I wasn’t trying to get him to quit drinking altogether.”
I was relieved the conversation had gone so well, and I told her so.
Dolores added, “Marla Mae told me that Elton is graduating from Midlands in less than a year. If everything works out, I just might invest in helping him to start his own car service.”
“I think that is an excellent idea,” I said. “And when I come back he can drive us around to see all the sights.”
“Then you will come back? That’s a definite?”
“Of course it’s a definite. I thought I would have to come back to be a witness at Norman’s
trial, but since he confessed, well, that means I will be able to return strictly for fun.”
“Jess, I never liked Norman, but I still can’t believe he would kill Willis for a few dollars.”
“Dolores, it wasn’t a few dollars. It was several million dollars.”
“He’d been siphoning off money for years. It began when Willis was distracted when Emily was sick and then died. Norman had the nerve to say that when I came into Willis’s life, I diverted his attention from the business, so Norman upped his game. Imagine him blaming me.”
“He wasn’t really blaming you. He was excusing his own contemptible behavior.”
“I guess you’re right. Anyway, that money will be put to good use. Dribs and drabs of the money Norman swindled from Willis are already coming back to me. As the money comes in, I’ll use it to pay down the Blomquists’ Available Options debt.”
That took me by suprise. “To help them hold on to Jessamine House you’re whittling down a loan they actually owe to you. Now that is a mark of a true friend.”
Dolores sighed. “I hate to admit it, but Willis toyed with the Blomquists as if their livelihood, their very survival, was a game. I’m determined to straighten things out.”
“And what about Marjory Ribault?” I brought up what I considered to be a thorny issue. “The papers we found in Willis’s files indicate you are the alternate trustee for the revocable trust that includes her cottage and her income. How do you plan to handle that?”
“That’s an easy one. While I can’t give her Manning Hall, I do intend to tell her that for our purposes the word ‘revocable’ is meaningless. She can remain in the cottage forever and have complete access to the grounds and gardens, including the kitchen garden.”
“Ah, so Lucinda told you about the vegetables.”
“She told me, yes.” Dolores laughed. “And she was surprised when I said I already knew.”
“How did you learn the big secret? I know you didn’t come across Marjory pilfering carrots while you were out for a run,” I teased.
“Not likely. But my bedroom window frequently offers a bird’s-eye view of Marjory roaming through the pines from the cottage to the kitchen garden and back again.”
I laughed along with her. “Aren’t you the sly one?”
Dolores expertly maneuvered through the downtown Columbia traffic and made one final left turn, into the train station parking lot. Dolores and I hugged good-bye and a courtly porter escorted me to my roomette.
I waved out the window to Dolores and watched her walk back toward the parking lot. I knew from experience that it would take time, but I was sure she’d be able to manage forging a new life for herself.
My cell phone rang. Seth Hazlitt.
“Yes, Seth, I am on the train, and after a brief stop in New York City to see Grady and his family, I’ll be on my way home. You can tell Doris Ann that if she sets the library furniture committee meeting for any day next week, I will be there to save the budget.”
“Don’t forget to make certain the chairs the committee buys are well padded,” Seth said, continuing his unending lobbying for extra-comfortable chairs.
“I’m sure you’ll remind me a dozen times before the meeting. I’ve heard quite enough about library furniture. Now, please tell me the latest news from Cabot Cove.”
And as the train began to make its way north, Seth said, “Ayuh, I’m not as up on things as the girls at Loretta’s Beauty Parlor, but I did hear . . .”
About the Authors
Jessica Fletcher is a bestselling mystery writer who has a knack for stumbling upon real-life mysteries in her various travels. Award-winning writer Terrie Farley Moran coauthors this bestselling series.
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Killing in a Koi Pond Page 24
