03 Murder by Mishap

by Suzanne Young

  “No. I would have known if Father had replaced the pin. Mother certainly would have worn it. I don’t know where a copy might have come from. Edna found one circlet in the dirt along the front fence in what used to be Mother’s rose garden.” Peg frowned at Guy with more disbelief than anger. “So Cherisse took Mother’s brooch after all,” she said quietly.

  “Yes,” Guy nodded. Edna expected him to hang his head in a stereotypical picture of shame. Instead, the spark of anger he’d shown earlier flashed in his eyes. “And we think, after what she suffered for it, that she should be allowed to keep the darn thing. She lost her job. Without a reference from Mrs. Graystocking, she was never again able to get work that paid a decent wage. Why she thought a few precious stones was worth all that, I don’t understand, but she did and she’s paid dearly for the last fifty years.”

  Edna was not only surprised at his reaction, but also puzzled. “If one of these is the brooch your mother took, how did it come to be pinned to a jacket in Virginia’s closet? Don’t tell me there’s a third.”

  He shook his head, almost smiling at her suggestion. “We made the mistake of showing the one of Mama’s to Virginia when she came to visit that evening. She asked to hold it and then wouldn’t give it back. Said it belonged to you.” He gestured to Peg. “We argued, and Renee even tried to grab it from her, but Virginia refused to let go. She was very stubborn and adamant about returning it to you.”

  “Did you try to help your sister take it back,” Peg asked.

  “I don’t manhandle women,” he said, clearly offended. “Virginia was strong. I wasn’t going to fight with her.”

  Peg shook her head, obviously confused. “Why didn’t she show it to me? Why hide it on an old jacket?”

  He shrugged. “Who can say? Clearly, she wanted to think about it or she would have given it to you at once. Virginia has been our friend for a long time. The disagreement disturbed us very much. I’m sure Virginia was unhappy about it, too.”

  “So that was what caused the tension between Virginia and your sister yesterday,” Edna said, as the story Peg had relayed began to make more sense.

  Guy nodded. “My sister got nowhere. Virginia wouldn’t discuss it. I tried to reason with her also, but she was very protective of you, Peggy. I finally gave up, decided there was nothing more I could do.”

  He stared at Peg as if willing her to give him the answer he sought, but she dropped her eyes to study the pin she held between her fingers, turning it over and over.

  Guy prodded quietly. “Will you let Mama keep her jewel? She paid dearly to possess this thing she was so infatuated with. You see, her brother had just died and she was very homesick for the old country. That pin of red, white and blue reminded her of our French flag.” As if the reason weren’t persuasive enough, he added even more quietly, “She won’t live much longer, you know. I promise we’ll give it back to you when she’s gone.”

  Before Peg could speak and commit herself to any form of action, Edna spoke, remembering Cherisse’s reaction when she’d seen the brooch in Peg’s hand. “If your mother was so certain that Peg had the original brooch, she couldn’t have known about a copy.”

  “That’s right.” Guy agreed and flicked his eyes to her before returning to study Peg’s lowered head. He looked as if he were trying mentally to will her into submission. When she didn’t respond or look up, he pressed. “What do you say, Peggy? Can she have it back, just for now?”

  Impatiently, Edna shook her head, reached over and took the brooch with its bent backing from Peg’s fingers. She thrust them both into her pocket as she looked from Peg to Guy. “The police need to know about these. They may not have anything to do with Virginia’s death, but that’s for them to decide, not us. Once this tragedy has been cleared up, you and Peg can work out who’s to keep what.” With that, she rose from the settee and said, “Let’s go, Peg.”

  “Can I see Cherisse before we leave,” Peg asked as she and Guy stood simultaneously.

  He shook his head. “She’s distressed and needs to rest.”

  “Is she upset about Virginia’s dying? It must be hard for her, knowing the last thing they did was quarrel.” Peg kept her eyes on Guy as she adjusted the coat on her shoulders and began to button it.

  He shook his head. “She doesn’t know about Virginia. We haven’t told her. She’s been so upset over losing her precious pin, we’re waiting until the investigation is over before we decide how to tell her. It’s best if she hears it all at once instead of fretting over unknowns.”

  Once they said good-bye to Guy and were back in the car, Peg took out her cell phone and Detective Ruthers’ business card. Edna listened to one side of the conversation as Peg explained about the duplicate brooch.

  After she’d ended the call, Peg told Edna that the detective asked her to meet him at the station. He did want to keep them for the time being, and asked if she would give her formal statement as long as she was coming in. If Edna would drop Peg off at the Division, Ruthers would see that she got home.

  Before starting the car, Edna turned to Peg for reassurance. “Is it possible that your father had the copy made and you just didn’t know about it? Maybe he had a replacement made after you left for college.”

  Peg shook her head. “He was convinced that Mother had only misplaced it. He was certain it would turn up, that she’d find she’d left it on a dress or dropped it in the closet among her shoes. He never believed that Cherisse stole it. I remember that clearly.” She gave Edna a wry smile. “He kept the original drawing, but I’m positive I would have known if he’d commissioned a jeweler to make another brooch for Mother.”

  Edna started at the significance of what she’d just heard. “Wait a minute. Are you saying the design is still around, still available?”

  Peg frowned as if the answer were obvious. “Of course. Father never threw anything away. The sketch was in the desk with his other papers. When Joey used the office, he left Father’s papers alone, but Stephen wanted to use the desk for himself. He boxed up all of Father’s things and probably stored them in the attic.” She turned away from Edna and, settling herself more comfortably, pulled the seatbelt across her chest and buckled it, ending the conversation.

  After a brief silence as she assimilated this latest discovery, Edna buckled her own seatbelt and started the car.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The drive between her home and Peg’s had become rhythmic for Edna. Leaving Peg’s neighborhood for the third time that week, she slipped into the traffic’s pattern and allowed her thoughts to run over the events of the last four days. The rain had stopped earlier that afternoon and billowy white clouds drifted lazily across a pale blue sky. The cool air smelled of spring and wet pavement. Although the late afternoon was pleasant, Edna’s mind was troubled.

  Thoughts of rosary beads and snake venom whirled in her head and, with them, the question of who would benefit from Virginia’s death and in what way? Was the murderer’s motive financial or emotional? Would Stephen have given the rosary to the police if Edna hadn’t forced his hand? If not, why not? Who would know enough about rosary peas to realize they could be lethal? Did the killer know about Virginia’s heart condition? Why did she hide the brooch beneath her jacket lapel? A very good hiding place. Edna’s conscious mind took a slight detour to admire the housekeeper’s ingenuity before concentrating again on more immediate concerns. Who had commissioned a duplicate of the ruby, sapphire and diamond circle pin and when?

  She made a mental note to look in Mrs. Rabichek’s journals for more information on the rosary peas, or maybe she referred to them as precatory beans, another of their common names. Thinking of plants and gardens, her thoughts flashed to Goran and Jaycee. Had the two of them hit it off so well that they ran away together? They’d known each other for such a short time. Jaycee didn’t seem like the type who would willingly hitch herself to a stranger. Why was she hiding her real identity? Why change her name? Edna wished anew that Jaycee’s note hadn�
�t been obliterated by the rain. It might have revealed where she had gone or why, and when she’d return. Obviously, she’d be back. She wouldn’t simply walk away from a house and all her belongings, would she?

  As Edna drew nearer to home, she made a quick decision and, passing her own driveway, turned up the slope beside Jaycee’s house and parked in front of the garage. Stepping out, she went around to the side door and peered through the dusty glass panes of its top half. Light from the setting sun filtered through the row of small windows set high in the main garage door, illuminating a black-and-chrome motorcycle parked beside a red scooter, but no car. She stared at the bike, wondering what was different about it until she realized that the black leather saddlebags were missing. If Goran and Jaycee made plans to go off somewhere together, he’d use the bags as a suitcase, she decided and shrugged. She’d seen what she’d come for and that was to learn if Jaycee had returned home.

  As long as she was there, Edna thought she might as well check the doors and make certain the house looked undisturbed. She climbed the stairs and crossed the deck to the back door. She looked into the kitchen through the gauze curtain covering the single, large window. Seeing nothing amiss, she tried the knob and eased her mind that the door was locked. Next, she walked around to the front door and made sure that door was also secure. She tried looking through the windows to check the front rooms, but drapes completely obliterated any view into either room. Having made the attempt, Edna was somewhat satisfied that all seemed safe and peaceful. She returned to her car and backed down the driveway to park before her own house.

  Darkness had fallen by the time she slid her key into the lock and let herself in through the front door. Benjamin came scampering around the corner from the side garden and slipped inside before the door shut. She stopped only long enough to hang her coat in the closet and set her purse on the hall table before heading into the kitchen.

  A note Starling had left on the table informed Edna that her daughter was with Charlie and wouldn’t be home for dinner. Edna was disappointed. She’d hoped to discuss her thoughts with Starling, if only to put some perspective on the recent events. Sighing with resignation to an evening of explaining everything only to her cat, she fed him his supper. With that done, she poured herself a glass of wine and took it upstairs where she drew a hot bath.

  An hour later, dressed in her long, blue velveteen robe, she poured a second glass of wine and, with a plate of sharp cheddar cheese and homemade crackers, she went into the living room. Lighting a small fire in the grate, she sat in her favorite wing-back chair beside the hearth and stared at the flames while sipping chardonnay and nibbling crackers.

  The idea of Jaycee running off with Goran didn’t make any sense to her. Even if Peg’s gardener were a fast mover as Starling had teased, it didn’t explain Jaycee’s behavior. Edna felt her young neighbor would be more cautious than to traipse off with someone she’d only just met. Had she been forced to leave? She had to be with Goran or why would his motorcycle be in her garage and her own car missing?

  Edna thought of the envelope Jaycee had left in her care. On impulse, she went to her office, opened the drawer and took out the envelope. She read again what Jaycee had written on the front. “Property of J.W. If not collected within a week, please phone …” And there was the area code for Chicago. It was the only connection she now had with her young neighbor. She wondered about dialing the number and asking whoever answered if he or she had heard from Jaycee in the last day or so.

  She was staring at the envelope without really seeing it, trying to decide whether or not to phone, when a loud pounding on the front door made her jump and almost drop the packet.

  “Who in the world ...” she muttered, clutching the envelope to her chest and leaving the office. The banging sounded again when she was halfway to the door, increasing her agitation and causing her to hurry the rest of the way. “Hold your horses,” she shouted at the door. She was rattled by having her peace unexpectedly disturbed and impatient to see who would be knocking so viciously instead of ringing the bell. She switched on the porch light and wrenched open the door without first looking through the peek hole.

  She did not recognize the man standing on her stoop, hunched against the cool of the night. The collar was turned up on his black leather jacket, partially hiding his jaw and chin. The black baseball cap pulled low over his forehead held no design and served to cover his head and shield the upper part of his face. The partial glare she was able to discern in his dark eyes was hard and gave Edna a sudden chill.

  “Yes?” She flicked her eyes to the hook that was the only deterrent to the man pulling open the screen door and forcing his way into the house. “What do you want?” Some of her anger was returning, and she was glad her voice didn’t quiver as the muscles of her legs seemed to be doing at the moment.

  His voice was low and rough, as if he were a heavy smoker. “I’m looking for your neighbor.” He pointed with his thumb, half turning to indicate Jaycee’s place across the street.

  “Sorry,” she said, beginning to shut the door. “I can’t help you.”

  “Saw you up at the house earlier’s why I’m askin’. You know when she’ll be home?” He pulled on the handle of the screen door, but the hook held. The door’s clatter as he jerked on it chafed at Edna’s nerves.

  It was then she noticed he was staring at the envelope she held across her chest. “I don’t know where she is or when she’ll be back. I can’t help you,” she repeated.

  She was stepping back and about to close the door when her attention was drawn to his hand as he unzipped his jacket and reached across his stomach to grab something attached to his belt. The sight of a knife handle mesmerized her.

  “Hi, Edna. Wha’cha doin’?”

  The spell broke in a rush of relief at the sound of Mary’s voice. Edna looked beyond the man on her doorstep to see Mary standing in the driveway with Hank at her side. The dog was alert, tail down, but he neither barked nor growled. Clad in jungle fatigues, Mary was barely visible at the edge of the light from the porch. Her left hand rested on the dog’s head. Her right was down by her side and slightly behind her thigh.

  Edna’s mind flashed back to the first and only time she’d seen Mary stand like that and knew instantly her neighbor was holding a gun. She didn’t know whether to be frightened or relieved.

  “Wha’cha doin’?” Mary’s repeated words were for Edna, but her eyes never left the stranger.

  The three of them stood frozen in a tableau for several heartbeats until the man backed slowly off the porch. He kept his eyes on Mary and Hank until he melted into the darkness. Edna waited until his footsteps faded down the broken-shells to the road.

  “Come in, Mary. Quickly.” She unlatched the hook and swung the screen door wide. When they were inside, Edna bolted the front door, before collapsing back against the heavy wood. “I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life,” she said and straightened. Her heart was beating like a jack hammer. As she opened her arms to give Mary a hug, Jaycee’s envelope fell to the floor.

  “What’s this?” Mary dodged the hug to pick up the envelope while Hank bent to sniff what he thought Edna had tossed to him. Uninterested, the dog turned to smell Benjamin instead, the cat having padded up beside him.

  “It’s something Jaycee asked me to keep for her,” Edna said, taking the packet and heading back to the living room. “Come sit. I’ll tell you about it as soon as I get you something to drink.” She glanced at the gun in Mary’s hand. “Please put it away. I know you know how to handle it, but it does make me nervous.”

  Mary took off her coat, folded it over the gun and set them on a chair just inside the arch to the living room. Edna put Jaycee’s envelope on the coffee table before leaving for the kitchen. When she returned moments later, wine in hand, she saw Mary, seated on the sofa, drop the envelope back onto the coffee table.

  “Have you tried the phone number,” she asked, accepting the goblet Edna held out.
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  “Didn’t have time,” Edna replied, tossing another log on the fire before resuming her chair. “I was in the office, trying to decide whether or not I should call, when that man started banging on the door. He scared me.”

  Mary took a sip of her drink, nodded and said, “Scared me, too. Hank didn’t like him either.” The dog was lying near Mary’s feet, head on his outstretched paws, eyes alert for any morsel of cheese or crumb of cracker that might possibly hit the floor. Benjamin was curled up in a bed beside the hearth.

  It was a peaceful scene and Edna’s nerves were beginning to calm when Hank’s head jerked up and a low growl began deep in his throat. He was struggling to his feet when a deep voice said, “Hold him or he’s dead.”

  As Mary grabbed Hank’s collar, Edna saw Benjamin streak off to hide in a far corner of the room. At the same time, she whipped her head around and saw the darkly-clad stranger standing in the archway, holding a gun. His collar was still up around his chin and mouth and his cap pulled low on his forehead. All she could see of his face were cold, dark eyes, a nose that had been broken more than once, and lips twisted in a snarl. Inches from his right knee was the chair on which Mary had left her pistol.

  “Toss me that envelope,” he growled, wobbling his weapon in the direction of the coffee table. “Do it and I won’t have to shoot you.”

  Edna started to stand, but he stopped her. “Sit down. Pick it up and throw it over here. Careful like.”

  She did as she was told, tossing the packet as her granddaughter had taught her to throw a Frisbee, only with less force behind her wrist. She wished she dared throw it at his face. The envelope landed about a foot from his shoes which she noticed were scuffed and rubber soled. With her artist’s eye, she was trying to remember every detail she could in order to sketch him later for Charlie and the police. She knew she’d get the eyes right. It would take many days and not a few nightmares to forget the evil in them.