“He definitely gave me that impression.”
As I spoke, the statement sounded hollow to me. There was something that didn’t add up, something floating in the back of my mind . . .
“Well, maybe he did do it, but I don’t want to believe it, y’know?”
“That’s . . . understandable.” I decided then not to tell her that Terence had mentioned suicide.
She glanced over her shoulder, but nobody else was listening. “He was very sick, you know, sick as in terminal.”
Tears filled her eyes. She pulled a tissue from her pocket.
“He was a good brother. After our parents died, he took care of me. I had some bad times in the past, gave him a lot of trouble, but he always took care of me. I tried to take care of him . . . you know, recently.”
“I’m sure you did, Dierdre,” I said automatically.
An elderly relative stepped forward and Dierdre moved away.
There was something I was forgetting, some detail. What was it? Why did I feel as though something was unfinished?
~~~
I was back at Chez Prentice, sitting in a rocking chair in one of the empty guest rooms upstairs nursing Janet, when there was a knock at the door. Draping the shawl in a more modest position, I called, “Who is it?”
“Hello, family, I’m back.” Gil entered, smiling. “Lunchtime?”
I sighed. “No, an after-lunch mid-afternoon snack in preparation for the late afternoon snack. Honestly, Gil, this child acts like she’s starving!”
He sat down on the bed. “Keep in mind, it’s one of the few times in her life that a girl’s glad to gain weight.”
I pulled back the light shawl and looked at the incredibly sweet little head at my breast. “I suppose so.” I stroked her feathery hair.
“Listen, Amelia, did you get a look at that journal Alec inherited?”
“Yes, and it’s fascinating, even if it’s a huge pain to try to decipher. You’d love it. I meant to tell you, but things have been so hectic, I forgot. The book’s an heirloom, Gil. I don’t feel right keeping it so long. We probably should return it to him.”
“I asked Alec, and he insisted we keep it a little longer. He’s busy downsizing right now.”
“It’s definitely of historical interest. This man was quite influential in Alec’s life. He gave him the idea to hunt for the Lake Champlain monster, you know.”
“Say, that might make a good article for the paper. Mind if I read it, too?”
Janet was finished. I handed her over to Gil and buttoned up my blouse. “Of course not. It’s in the drawer of the bedside table back at the house.”
Marie poked her head in the door. “The policeman is here to see you in the front parlor.”
Gil was carrying a wide-awake Janet in his arms when we descended the stairs.
Wearing his official persona instead of that of a former student, Dennis stood at our approach. Sliding his eyes in the direction of another B&B guest who was peering over his newspaper at us, he said quietly, “Amelia, this is rather confidential. Maybe we could go in the kitchen or the dining room?”
We moved into the entry hall and looked around.
“In here.” Marie leaned out of the door of her office. “It’s nice and quiet.”
We accepted her offer. Dennis turned and said over his shoulder, “Gil, you should join us. Um, your daughter is welcome too. I assume she can keep a secret.”
Gil turned to his daughter and animatedly put a finger to his lips. “Shhh!”
Once we were settled in the comfortable chairs in the B&B office, Dennis said, “I just have a few more questions for you about the other evening, Amelia.” He placed a tiny device on the desk. “If it’s okay, I’ll record our conversation this time.”
I nodded.
Gil put a clean cloth diaper and the baby over his shoulder and gently rubbed her back as he listened.
“Amelia, would you go over the events as you remember them? And please don’t leave out any detail, no matter how small.”
“Well, I was feeling pretty energetic that afternoon. I’d cleaned the whole house . . . ” I proceeded to re-live everything, including wading in the water, the telephone call to Dierdre and the leisurely walk along the lake shore. I described the little cabin with its distinctive collection of license plates and how grubby it had seemed inside. I reconstructed, as best I could, the conversation I’d had with Terence.
Dennis flipped a page of his memo pad and pointed his pen at me. “Did Mr. Jamison confess to the murder of Daniel DiNicco? I mean, in so many words?”
I nodded. “I think so. He even showed me the gun that was used. It was a real one that had been a prop in one of his early plays.”
“Can you describe it again?”
“I don’t know much about guns. It was really big, a silver color, with a long barrel and the initials T. R. on a little plaque on the handle, which was black—is it called a handle?—The initials stood for Theodore Roosevelt. Terence had been Teddy Roosevelt in the play, you see.”
“You’re sure he said he’d committed the murder? I mean, you were in labor and everything.”
I felt myself blushing. I didn’t want to mention the ‘peeing’ incident if I didn’t have to.
“That came a little later. Oh, wait! He must have confessed, because I offered to go with him so he could turn himself in. I told him I knew you and—”
“But he declined?” Dennis made a note.
“Yes. He said he couldn’t do that to his family.”
Gil gave a disgusted snort.
“Look, you two,” Dennis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I apologize for having to go over this all over again. I’m being so insistent, Amelia, because it could help the NYPD close the Daniel diNicco case.”
I nodded. Gil nodded.
Dennis sat back in his seat and ran a finger down his notes. “So, let’s get back to when you were at the Joseph camp. Would you say he threatened you?”
Gil leaned forward, frowning, still patting Janet steadily on the back.
“I don’t know. It seemed like it. I mean, he said he didn’t know what to do with me, and that I was always a handful.”
“What did he mean by that?”
Gil put in sharply, “Yeah, what did he mean?”
A huge burp burst forth.
It broke the angry spell. We all chuckled. Gil held Janet in one arm while he wiped her mouth with the cloth. We could see that her eyelids were drooping.
“She’s sleepy now. She’ll probably doze off.”
“I wouldn’t have thought she had such a big, loud bubble in her,” Dennis said in a stage whisper and smiled, “but I remember Meaghan doing the same thing.”
“Go ahead, talk normally,” I said. “Gil and I are trying to accustom her to sleeping with ambient noise.”
“Okay, where were we?”
Gil handed the baby over to me, where she nestled in my arms and sighed deeply, closed her eyes and began pursing her lips back and forth. It was how she put herself to sleep, we’d learned.
“Terence was threatening to kill you,” Gil said darkly.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure he really did. He just seemed unsure as to what to do.”
Gil cracked his knuckles and looked around, annoyed. “I was feeling sorry for the guy, and here he was about to—”
“Gil!” I said sharply, forgetting for the moment that we were being recorded, “Remember, he did help me. Help us, I mean.” I glanced down at Janet, and then turned back to Dennis. “As soon as he realized that I was going into labor, he became completely committed to getting me some medical help.” I explained our unsuccessful effort at the urologist’s camp.
Gil smiled. “But Dr. Ridley’s not—”
“That’s what I said, but Terence said something about plumbing. I can’t remember all of it. I was in pain then.”
“That’s the problem. Some of your memory is a little clouded, I think.” Dennis leaned forward. “Let
’s get back to the gun. Did you see what he did with it when you were going for help?”
A tiny snore floated up from my lap. Janet was asleep.
We all smiled fondly at her and I picked up the thread of the conversation again. I squinted, trying to think.
“I remember being uneasy around it. But to tell the truth, I’m not even sure it was loaded. He did kind of open it up and spin that round middle thing around like you see in Westerns. Then he stuck it in his belt.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Later, I remember being afraid it would go off or something. We were in the boat at the time. Oh, wait, yes! I just remembered. He said he’d been planning to kill himself out there. ‘Put an end to things.’ That’s how he put it. I can’t believe I forgot that until now.”
Dennis nodded and made more notes. “Then it had to have been loaded. Could it have fallen out, say in the water, at any time?”
I looked at him. “Are you saying you still haven’t found the gun?”
Dennis reached over and clicked off the recorder. “Yes, I’m saying that—to you. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that that’s confidential information.”
Gil and I nodded. Dennis turned on the recorder again.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember. “It was pretty wild there for a while. We ran out of gas within sight of the house, I remember, and he was rowing for all he was worth.” I frowned. “Things were sliding all over the boat, I remember. I grabbed his wig. It got a little wet, I think.”
Gil put in, “Yeah, I saw that he was wearing that at the hospital, just before he collapsed.”
I kept my eyes closed. “Wait. There was something . . . heavy in the bottom of the boat. It could have been the gun. It slid out of reach under the seat. Did you look under the seats of the boat and everything?” I looked over at Dennis, who clicked the recorder off again.
He sighed heavily. “Amelia, those downstaters might think we’re ignorant hillbillies around here, but we really do know our business. Our people have scoured the entire scene, including that filthy cabin, the boat, even in the water and under the dock. No luck.”
“What does that mean?”
“The NYPD has the bullet involved in the DiNicco murder.” He closed the pad. “But unless they can match it to a weapon, well . . . ” He shrugged, tucked the pad and pen in his jacket pocket, and picked up the recorder. “I think that’s enough for now.”
Gil, Janet, and I walked him to the front door. He thanked me. “We’ll keep on it, don’t worry,” he assured us.
Before he climbed into his car, Dennis waved to Bert and Etienne pulling up in Bert’s truck. Spotting us, Etienne jumped from the passenger seat and ran to the porch.
“I have solved the problem!” he said so loudly that Janet started in my arms and began to cry. “Oh, ma petite!” Etienne crooned and stroked her hair. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clicked at her softly.
Fascinated, Janet opened her still-damp eyes widely and stared.
“Bien.”
“What problem?” Gil asked.
My enthusiastic business partner assumed a haughty demeanor. “Madame Lily wants to . . . er . . . enterrant . . . er . . . bury the cat ’ere, at Chez Prentice.” He rolled his dark eyes and shook his head. “I say non, and she says—well you know, Amelia, ’ow she is.”
I nodded, jiggling Janet, who was entranced by Etienne’s dramatic recitation.
“But today, un éclat!” He stuck his forehead with the heel of his hand. “It’s brilliant! Un jardin!—garden—with the flowers, the herbs! Et aussi, a little statue for the cat.” He tossed off the last statement quickly as an afterthought.
His enthusiasm was contagious. I said, “Of course! That would be perfect! Mother always wanted to have a garden back there—with a gazebo.”
Apparently Etienne hadn’t thought of this. “A gazebo? Of course! It’s a fine idea! Yes, we could have the garden weddings in summer!” Then, more to himself, he looked around and said, “So we will need the wood, the lumber. And plans . . . excuse me.” Lost in thought, he shouldered his way past us into the house.
We followed him inside.
“This one’s about out of it. Better tuck her in.” Gil touched the top of Janet’s head lightly. “This garden thing? Run that by me again.”
I mounted the stairs and paused to explain. “Etienne has decided that it would be all right to bury Sam out in the backyard and mark the grave with some kind of statuary. But rather than make it morbid, we can have a nice garden with flowers and herbs. You heard about the gazebo. It really would be perfect for weddings.” I looked down fondly at the baby whose eyes were half-closed. “Maybe our little girl will be married there someday.”
“Right.” Gil jingled change in his pocket and said dryly, “If the guy can get past me on the front porch—with a shotgun across my knees.”
“I’ll remember that, Duck Commander.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
It was a relief to realize that the plans for the Chez Prentice garden had temporarily diverted Lily from her desire to avenge Sam’s death. Or at least I hoped so. So contagious was Etienne’s enthusiasm that she was willing to accompany him on a shopping trip to select an appropriate memorial piece for Sam.
“It’s a cat,” she announced as she showed me a photo on her cell phone. “It’s sleeping, see? Curled up? They said they could put a little brass plaque on the base.”
She stared at the picture in the telephone and ran a finger along the edge. I noted with horror that her nail polish was chipped. This had never happened, in all the years I’d known her. She really was in mourning.
All at once, her expression changed. She turned to me and spoke in my ear.
“I haven’t forgotten, you know,” she said in a low voice filled with venom, “and I’m going to get even. See if I don’t.”
“Lily—”
She was out the door before I could engage her in yet another fruitless disagreement over justice versus revenge.
Alec was worried about her, too, despite having his own troubles. “I’ve never seen her like this, Amelia. When she’s not drowning in despair, she’s blazing with rage. Please forgive the mixed metaphor, m’dear,” he added, ever mindful of my sensibilities.
“Think nothing of it, Alec.” We were side-by-side, pushing grocery buggies.
He leaned over and peered at Janet, who was sleeping peacefully in the baby carrier I had strapped in the child seat of the cart. “So sweet. Amelia. By the way,” He straightened up and reached for a can of tomato soup, “I was just over at the animal shelter. They’ve a litter of the most cunning kittens. I found one that quite resembled—”
“Alec, no!” I interrupted, “You never, ever try to replace someone’s pet with another one, at least not this soon. All the psychologists say so.”
“But I thought if I surprised her with—”
I turned away from the packets of instant gravy mix and glared at him. “Aren’t you listening to me? Alec, you’d only make matters worse! And I can’t imagine what Lily would be like if that happened!”
He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right. I just so wanted to help her, poor bairn. T’is breaking my heart.”
Lily was considerably past her bairn days, but the tenderness in his voice touched me. I laid my hand on his arm.
“I know you care, Alec. And you mean well. But trust me, I’ve known Lily longer than you have, and my advice is to just give her time.”
“Thank you, m’dear. You’re kindness itself. Only a true friend would’ve brought me up short so.”
“Please know I only want you to be happy. And Lily, too, of course.”
“What bothers me,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, “is how she’s taking this.” He shook his head sadly. “The vindictiveness, it isn’t healthy, I’m afraid.”
“You’re right. It would be terrible if she did find out who it was. Serry—I mean—the perpetrator has been through a lot this yea
r. Oh, dear—you heard, didn’t you?—Alec, promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to Lily or anyone, for that matter.”
“No need to worry, m’dear, though I feel quite sorry for that girl. I wish I could think of a way to solve this.” A sad smile lifted the edges of his mouth. “Ah, well, I’m off to the frozen section for waffles. Join me?”
“I’ve already been there, thanks. I need disposable diapers.” I nodded in the direction of the baby supply aisle.
“Well, farewell, then, and many thanks again for the advice.”
~~~
Things had become so uncomfortable with Lily that I experienced a sinking feeling when I saw her enter Chez Prentice the next morning. She was dressed in a becoming black pantsuit and wearing her late mother’s pearls.
“Bert has Sam’s coffin and the grave marker in the back of his truck,” she informed me coolly, leaning over the portable baby bed we had installed in the dining room to smile at Janet. “He’s bringing them around to the garden. We’ll be interring him in a minute, as soon as Alec gets here. If you’re interested, you can come.”
“Coffin?” I tried to stifle a shudder.
“Of course, coffin. I had Burt make it. He’s quite a good woodworker, you know. He gave it a hinged top and put a coat of shiny shellac on the outside. It looks just like the real thing. I mean, it is the real thing,” she corrected herself.
“It sounds sweet, Lily, but if you don’t mind, I’m afraid it would just make me too sad. Besides, it’s time to feed Janet.”
“Suit yourself. Here’s Alec.” They went out the back door together.
I couldn’t resist peeping at the ceremony from an upstairs window. As Lily stood, head bowed, Alec and Bert gently lowered the little box into the hole. The three then stood together as Alec said something. When he finished, he put an arm around Lily’s waist and watched Bert as he began shoveling dirt over the little box.
Murder in the Past Tense (Miss Prentice Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) Page 20
