Note Before Dying (Ghostwriter Mystery 6)

by Larmer, C. A.

  “Arggggh!” she said. “He makes me so angry! I can’t believe he left me, I just can’t believe it!”

  “He didn’t leave you, Annika. He was murdered.”

  She sniffed. “I know ... I know ... It’s going to take a while, that’s all. We’d been together since I was seventeen, you know.”

  “Seventeen? That is young.”

  “He’s all I knew, he’s all I cared about.” She sniffed again. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “Of course it is. Can I get you a tissue?”

  “Inside ... on the table by the gold lamp.”

  Roxy retrieved the tissue box and they spent a few more minutes in contemplative silence before Annika gave her nose a final blow and said, “Enough of all this. I guess you want to interview me? For the book?”

  “Only if you’re up to it, Annika.”

  “Let’s just get it over with, shall we?”

  They never got the chance. Just as Roxy was pulling her digital recorder from her carry bag, they heard the sound of cars pulling up at the front of the house and Annika gave a weary sigh, wiped two fingers under her eyes to clear away any running mascara, then got up and walked back through the house towards the front door, Roxy close behind.

  She pushed it open to reveal Wiles and Gilda stepping out of an unmarked vehicle, two uniformed officers out of a second patrol car.

  “Is Alistair Avery here?” Gilda called out and Annika frowned.

  “Somewhere, yes. Why?”

  “Where is he, Mrs. Moody? We need to have a word.” This was Wiles and he did not look like he had time for chitchat.

  “God, I don’t know.” She glanced around. “I guess he’s in the studio. He’s going through some files with Houghton, but...”

  “Where is the studio?”

  “I’ll show you,” Roxy said, stepping forward. “It’s this way.”

  She shared a curious look with Annika then led the officers away from the house and back towards the tall timber building on the far side of the house. At the door, Gilda took her arm and held her back. “We’ll take it from here, thanks, Roxy. Can you return inside? We’ll see you back there.”

  She nodded. “What’s going on?”

  Gilda held a hand up. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

  Roxy nodded again then slowly made her way along the path, glancing back to see Wiles banging on the studio door, the officers on either side of it. “Alistair Avery? Police! Open up!”

  “What on earth is going on?” Annika asked, leaning against the veranda railing, her dog Coco now in her arms. Coco was emitting the occasional yelp but there was no sincerity in it. For her part, Annika looked genuinely worried and Roxy was feeling a little concerned, too. Did Gilda and Wiles believe Alistair had killed Macker Maroney? Or was this about Jed’s death?

  “I have no idea, Annika. Let’s just wait it out, okay?”

  It didn’t take long. Five minutes later, Gilda and Wiles were trudging back down the pathway towards the main house, the two uniformed officers behind them holding Alistair, his head bowed. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, simply looked down at the ground, while Houghton appeared behind him growling something into his mobile phone. Annika rushed towards them, aghast.

  “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

  Wiles didn’t answer her, simply turned to the officers and said, “Take Mr. Avery down to the station, guys and put him in an interrogation room. I need to have a word with Mrs. Moody separately first.”

  “You can’t interrogate him without his lawyer!” Houghton squeaked, waving the phone at the officers as they shuffled Alistair into the police car and closed the door. Houghton leaned down towards the window and yelled, “I’ll get Harris here, Al, don’t panic, and don’t say another bloody word!”

  Roxy gave Gilda a bewildered look and she raised her eyebrows but remained silent.

  “We’d like to have a word with you, Mrs. Moody. Do you mind if we use your office again?”

  Annika looked at Wiles with outrage for a moment before sighing melodramatically, then striding back through the house towards the office. Gilda began to follow, then hesitated and turned back to Roxy who was still standing just outside, her brain buzzing with questions.

  “I’ll explain it all later,” she whispered. “Can you hang around? I really need to talk to you. It’s about Sunny.”

  “Sunny?” What did she have to do with any of this?

  “Later, I promise.”

  She gave Roxy’s hand a quick squeeze then entered Jed’s office and swung the door shut behind her.

  The house seemed eerily quiet now, and Roxy slowly closed the front door, wrapped her arms around herself and returned to the kitchen to fire up the espresso machine again. What an exhausting couple of days, she thought, and so baffling, too. She closed her eyes and tried to make sense of it all, but nothing was falling into place.

  Was Alistair being arrested for Macker’s murder, or Jed’s? And what, if anything, did all this have to do with Sunny?

  “How’re you doing? You okay?”

  Roxy’s eyes popped open to find Houghton standing at the kitchen doorway, one hand still clutching his mobile, a strained look on his face.

  She tried to smile. “Oh, I’m fine. What’s going on with Alistair? Do you have any idea?”

  He frowned. “They found some bloody photos that paparazzi bastard took of Al. He’s in the shit, big time.” He glanced at his phone. “Where is this friggin’ lawyer? So much for, ‘Call me anytime’!”

  “What kind of photos?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said Macker had some photos.”

  “Oh, right.” Houghton hesitated. “Look, I’d better not say anymore at this point. Won’t do anyone any good. You using that?” He pointed to the espresso machine and she moved out of the way so he could make himself a cup. She didn’t have the energy right now.

  “Has Macker been blackmailing you all again?” she asked.

  Houghton glanced around, shooting a look at the doorway then back at her. “What do you know about that?”

  “I know Macker had photos of Jed and Sunny together, at the hutch out near the creek, before she died. I know he was trying to extort money out of you. Was Alistair still angry about that?”

  “Al? Nah, he couldn’t give a shit. I took care of that. Always do.” He turned back to the machine. “It’s ancient history now anyway. We paid the bastard off.”

  “So why did you tell Gilda yesterday that you didn’t know about Jed and Sunny’s affair?”

  “Because she told me she was investigating Sunny’s death. I didn’t need to give myself a motive for wanting her gone, did I? It would just confuse matters. It was all sorted a long time ago.”

  “But Macker was obviously trying his luck again,” Roxy persisted. “The night I first met Jed, he said something to you about it. Something about not paying him another cent.”

  “Oh, that was a total scam! Macker had some new pix, some grainy shots he thought were of Jed and Asha together, but we laughed. It wasn’t who he thought it was.”

  “Who was it?”

  He turned back to the machine, clearly not willing to be drawn further. Roxy watched him at the machine for a few minutes. Several pieces seemed to click into place in her brain, but first she needed to get a few things straight.

  “I’m sorry to harp on about it, Houghton, but I still don’t understand why you paid Macker Maroney for those photos of Jed and Sunny in the first place.” When he looked back at her blankly, she said, “I mean, surely that wasn’t big news, Jed sleeping around. Surely you didn’t need to protect him from that.”

  His eyes darted to the kitchen door and back again. “Shhh! Just keep it down, okay. Like I said, old news.”

  That’s when it hit her. “You weren’t paying to protect Jed, you paid to protect Annika, right? To make sure she didn’t find out.”

  He sighed and strode across to the fridge to retrieve a jug of milk.
“And she didn’t find out either,” he said. “Not until bloody Sam Forrest came back and started telling the whole world. Might as well have taken out a full-page ad in the Valley Times.”

  “So Annika had no idea about Jed’s affair until after Sunny died?”

  “What do you think I paid Macker for? I made sure it stayed quiet. Nobody knew, not until Sam started banging on about it.”

  Roxy lowered her voice. “Sorry, Houghton, but I got the impression Jed was always unfaithful. This couldn’t have been shocking news to Annika, surely?”

  “Not shocking, no, but it could’ve been the last straw.” His eyes turned watery then and he swept around to continue making his coffee. Softly, gruffly, he said, “Why Annie put up with that bastard for so long, I don’t know. But she did. I was just trying to save her from one more disappointment. I worried that if she knew she’d finally crack. She’d been negotiating festivals here. I figured she’d turn her hand at that and kick him out once and for all, and I wouldn’t’ve blamed her for it.”

  “Why do you care? Is this about the band? About your commission?”

  He reeled back. “No! It was about protecting poor Annie. How much more was she supposed to take?” He paused. “But yes, okay, maybe I was protecting the band, too, but not because of any commission. I love the Roos, always have, and Jed was fucking it up all over again. One more indiscretion and Annie would’ve walked, then that would have been the end of the band. Without Annie, there is no band. Everyone goes on about the great Jed Moody. It was Annika who made him great. Like I said, Horror Story was a horror story. We couldn’t pull a sound, he could barely sing. She taught him everything he knows. She gave him the moves, got him singing lessons; even scored Al and his great songwriting skills. The Moody Roos would have fallen apart without Annie. I knew it. He knew it too, but couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

  “Yet she stayed around, even after Sam told her about Jed and his sister’s affair.”

  “Yeah.” His brow furrowed, and it was clear he was surprised by that.

  “You must have been worried then when Jed hooked up with Asha.”

  He stopped frothing the milk. “Asha?”

  “Asha Kidlong, the mayor’s—”

  “I know Ash, I pointed her out to you, remember? What makes you think Jed was with Asha?”

  She thought of the candy necklace at the hutch, of the incessant texts that Jed had received. “Wasn’t he?”

  “Bloody hope not. He promised me, he swore he wouldn’t. I just don’t understand why people keep saying that.” He stared at her. “What do you know?”

  “Nothing, really.”

  She shifted on her stool. The truth was she didn’t have any hard evidence Jed had been seeing Asha. A candy necklace amounted to nothing in the face of it. Her brain was growing foggy again. Okay, she thought, let’s get back to those incriminating photos Macker had taken. He’d boasted of incriminating pictures but insisted they weren’t of Jed and Asha. Her brain cleared, she sat forward with a start.

  “It wasn’t Jed and Asha, was it?” He looked at her confused, so she said, “It was Alistair and Asha! Al was the one with her at the hutch that night!” That would explain why Alistair had got onto the stage so late at the jam, about the same time Asha had returned to the audience. It also explained why everyone thought Jed was having an affair with Asha at the hutch, because that’s where he’d conducted his affairs with Sunny.

  Macker must have taken photos of Alistair and Asha together at the hutch. Her brain stalled. “But ... but what’s so incriminating about Al and Asha? Is Asha underage?”

  He shook his head. “She’s eighteen next week. I just checked.”

  “So they’re both single, both of age. What’s the big deal then?”

  Houghton didn’t answer, but his frown returned as he finished making his coffee. The Moody Roos’ publicist was keeping a secret, she knew that, and she wondered why.

  Chapter 37

  “Roxy, got a minute?”

  She swung around to find Gilda at the doorway, nudging her head back towards the office. Annika was just stepping out when they approached, and the look she gave Roxy was one of utter contempt. Roxy stared at her surprised. What had she done now? Did she blame Roxy for the fact that Alistair was in custody?

  “He won’t be in custody for long, at least not for the murder of Macker Maroney,” Gilda told her as they took seats in front of the desk. “Wiles has gone down to question him, but after hearing what Mrs. Moody had to say, he’ll have to let him go for that. Got an alibi, the lucky bugger. But he’s still got some pretty serious charges to answer.”

  “Like what?” Roxy asked. “I’m really confused, Gilda, what’s going on? Why would you even think that Al wanted Macker dead?”

  Gilda leaned back in her chair and proceeded to explain everything. While searching through Maroney’s house that morning, she and Wiles had uncovered a stash of his photographs, some poorly hidden in a file on his computer, others in the computer’s trash basket.

  “There were a few of Asha Kidlong at the hutch,” Gilda said.

  “Yeah, I know, with Alistair. What’s the big deal, though? They’re both of age. Houghton assures me Asha’s eighteen. That’s the legal age.”

  “Not when you’re buying drugs, it’s not.”

  “Drugs?”

  She nodded. “Macker had pictures of Asha exchanging cash for what looks like a bag of tiny white pills. Ecstasy, probably. We’ll know more when we speak to her. Quick is hauling her in now.”

  “Wow, okay, that explains it then. She wasn’t there to get it on with Al, she was just after drugs.”

  “Maybe both. Anyway, the pix are pretty dark and grainy, and at first we thought it was Jed Moody handing the pills over, but we had them blown up down at the lab and it’s definitely Alistair Avery, can just make out the bottom of his glasses.”

  “Okay, so he was selling drugs, and what? You think Macker was blackmailing him so he killed him?”

  She groaned. “We thought that. Not anymore. As I said, he’s got a bloody good alibi.” Before she could explain, Roxy had already worked it out. Several more pieces of the puzzle were shifting into place.

  “He was with Annika, right?” Gilda looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded. “How long have they been sleeping together?”

  “She swears it’s just since Jed died.”

  “So much for the grieving widow!”

  “I know, but I’m not so sure; they could’ve been at it for years. It doesn’t change the fact he has a rock solid alibi, if you’ll excuse the dreadful pun. Judging from the fact that Maroney called me around 7:30 this morning, the coroner thinks he was killed sometime between then and 9:00 a.m. Annika swears she was having her merry way with the bass player in the stables all morning. Then she left him at about ten and returned to the house.”

  “Maybe she’s lying. To protect him.”

  “Reckons one of the stable hands saw them both exit around that time. I’ll go and check that out now. What I don’t get is why she bothered hiding it. Why slum it in the stables?” Her nose crinkled. “Her hubby’s dead. Why all the secrecy?”

  “She wasn’t hiding it from her hubby,” said Roxy. “She never was. She was hiding it from Houghton.”

  “Houghton?”

  Roxy relayed the conversation she’d just had with the publicist. “He confirmed what Macker already told us, that he did buy the photos of Sunny and Jed together before she died. But Houghton didn’t do that to protect Jed. It was all about Annika. He goes on about the band, but I have a feeling it’s Annika he really adores. Has probably loved her since the very start. Has been protecting her from Jed’s antics ever since. Annika obviously knows it, has been working that crush for years. She probably didn’t want to disappoint Houghton or scare off her faithful puppy dog. Who knows?”

  Gilda sighed. “What a bloody soap opera this place is! Everyone sleeping with everyone else. Everyone trying to protect everyone else.”


  “And still no idea who killed anyone,” Roxy added gently. Gilda groaned loudly again. “Any idea who would want Macker dead?”

  “A sleazy paparazzi who extorted money from people and treated women like shit; nah, can’t imagine who would want to bludgeon the man with the blunt side of an axe.” Gilda shook her head. “We’re still going through all his files with a fine-tooth comb, God knows what else we’ll find in there. A lot of it was trashed, but we’re in the process of retrieving it now. I think half the community will be shaking in their boots waiting for the outcome of that.”

  “And most of the people who showed up at Jed’s last gig. There were plenty of drugs going around that night. If Macker was lurking in the bushes, he could have taken a lot of incriminating pictures.”

  “Didn’t you say most of it was pot? I can’t see the hippies killing him over photos of a few joints, which, by the way, look just like rollie tobacco on camera. Hardly hold up in court. Nah, I’m more interested in murderers than stoners, thanks very much, but we’ll see what we uncover at his house.”

  “Any idea why Macker called you so early this morning?”

  “Bindi insists he never said.”

  “How’d he know where you were staying?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “I’ve been wondering that myself. He must have done a little sleuthing to track me down so early in the morning, which makes me think he must have been very keen to talk to me. Didn’t want to wait until I got into the station. Maybe he had some new information on Jed’s murder, or maybe someone had started threatening him over something, who knows? In any case, it now goes with him to the grave.” She sighed.

  “You’re not blaming yourself, I hope.”

  “Nah, I won’t be losing sleep over that guy, but I am disappointed with myself and my behaviour. Waking up with a hangover in the middle of an investigation is unforgiveable. Which reminds me. You’re not heading back to Sam’s place tonight, are you?”

  Roxy rolled her eyes. Oh, not again.

  “No, listen, Rox, this is really important. I have to tell you something, it’s about Sunny.”