Edna laughed. “Yes, and I remember how mad you both got the day we were playing outside, and I said ‘I’m thinking of something blue.’ Both of you gave up on that one.”
Starling flushed. “Well, you’ve got to admit, picking the sky was pretty sneaky.”
“What you’re getting at,” said Edna when their laughter died down, “is playing ‘I’m thinking of someone who committed murder,’ only neither of us knows the answer.”
“Exactly. I guess it’s a stretch comparing this to our old childhood game, but we should be able to come up with a bunch of questions that might help you track down answers.”
“We just might at that.” Edna was starting to feel some of Starling’s excitement. “Where shall we begin?”
“I think we should start with motive. I read somewhere that murder is usually committed for one of three reasons—love, money or revenge.” Starling untangled her legs and rose from the couch as she spoke. “I think we need to write stuff down.” Disappearing into the kitchen, she returned with a small stack of three-by-five index cards and two pencils.
Edna accepted several cards and a pencil, throwing herself into the game. “We should make a separate card for each idea or person.”
“Good thinking. You do one for love and another for money. I’ll take revenge.”
As Starling bent over the task, her hair glowed almost red in the light from the lamp behind her. Looking up, her eyes flashing with excitement, she flipped a strand of the auburn mane behind an ear. “Okay. We should make some people cards, maybe start with who saw him that day—I mean, besides you, of course.”
“Well,” Edna thought for a moment “he had his grandson Danny with him.” She felt her face heat up, thinking of her humiliating visit to Nancy’s home. “I’ve tried to see the boy, but his mother won’t let me near him. She thinks, as the police seem to, that I’m to blame.”
“I can’t believe anyone would think of you like that.” Starling stared at her intently for a few heartbeats before tapping her pencil against a blank card. “We need to list witnesses, too, so we don’t leave anything or anyone out.” She scribbled a name and placed the card on the cushion between them. “That’s the witness pile with a card for Danny. What about places? Where would Tom have gone after he left your place?”
“He mentioned going somewhere at the shore, but I had the impression that would have been later in the day. It was almost lunchtime when he left, so he probably took Danny to McDonald’s.” Edna smiled. “Tom told me once that his grandson always insisted on McDonald’s for lunch.”
“He probably wasn’t poisoned in a public place. Others would have contracted the same symptoms, and the news would have been all over town. Still, I’ll make a card for McDonald’s and that other place. What was the name?”
“I don’t remember . . . some kind of fish, I think.”
Starling waited for Edna to remember, then grew impatient. “It doesn’t matter. You can fill in the name later. I’ll just put ‘shore place’ for now. When you get home, take a drive down to the beach. Maybe a shop sign will jog your memory, and you can go in and find out if Tom and Danny were there and whether someone was with them.”
“I bet Norm knows where Tom was on Thursday.”
“Who’s Norm?”
Edna explained Tom’s employer to Starling and told her how he had accused her of being in cahoots with his cousin to steal from Honeydew Home Repairs. “I’d bet anything he knows where Tom went that day,” she said again, finishing her story. “He’s making me look guilty by saying Tom was scheduled to work all day at our place. He knows darn well it isn’t true.”
“Do you think he’s covering up something?”
“Maybe.” Edna thought for a minute while her anger cooled. “I can’t believe he’d gain anything by killing his best worker.” She shook her head. “Maybe he just wants to bill us for eight hours instead of one. I think he’s lying for the money.”
“Well, just in case, I think we should put him at the top of our suspect list. Why don’t you make out a card and note on it something like ‘knows where Tom was.’ Maybe mark it with a question. He sounds fishy to me.”
Edna began to realize that all these cards were creating quite a lot of work for her when she got home, but the game was helping her organize her thoughts. As she finished filling out the card for Norm, Starling said, “Do you know anyone who might have had a grudge against him? You know, the revenge angle.”
Edna considered the idea. “It’s a terrible thing to imagine, but I suppose his son-in-law, Walt Alcott, might have hated him enough to want him dead. According to what Tom told me, Walt blamed him for breaking up his marriage and talking Nancy into moving back home with Danny.”
“Is it true?”
“No. I think Tom was smarter than that. If he did want Nancy to leave Walt, he’d have kept it to himself. The fastest way to send her back to her husband would have been to try talking her into leaving him. Besides, Tom knew better than to interfere in his daughter’s life. I think he was genuinely bewildered that his son-in-law didn’t like him.”
“Do you think Walt would kill his wife’s father? Should I add him to our suspect pile?” Starling flipped a clean card to the top of her stack.
“Well,” Edna hesitated “from what I gather, he’s a bully, and he drinks too much, but I don’t see his type of person being sneaky. I think of poison as the work of a devious person. A tyrant like Walt uses a gun or even his fists, but not poison.”
“Okay, but I’m going to keep him as a suspect. I’ll note your objections on his card. Who else could it be? What about the money angle? Who inherits?”
“I don’t have any way of knowing Tom’s net worth, but I don’t think he was wealthy enough for anyone to kill him for money. I assume his daughter will inherit whatever he had.”
“Mom,” Starling sighed, “you need to be more hard-nosed about this. Putting someone’s name down on a card doesn’t mean they’re guilty, but you should investigate all possibilities.” She giggled when she added, “We’re turning you into a grade A, class one detective.”
Edna smiled, appreciating her daughter’s attempt to lighten the conversation. “Okay, make a card for Nancy, too, and a question as to whether or not she’s Tom’s sole beneficiary. I’ll check into it when I get home.”
When Starling completed the task, she said, “Who else could have wanted him out of the way? Any angry husbands out there? Could he have been killed for love?”
The image of a tear-stained face popped into Edna’s head. “I think Mary Osbourne was very much in love with him, probably since childhood.” She saw again the pain in Mary’s eyes. “She’s the last person I’d suspect of hurting Tom, though.
“Now, Mom, think again.” Starling raised an eyebrow. “Could she be a woman scorned?”
“No. Mary doesn’t seem to expect attention from anyone. I think if Tom had made a pass at her, she would have scurried off to hide. As odd as she might be sometimes, I like Mary. She’s a gentle soul who needs someone to care for.”
“Well, I’m going to make a card for her. According to you, nobody you’ve mentioned is capable of murder. So far, the only one mean enough seems to be this cousin, but he may be too obvious. You really need to look deeper and be less sympathetic.”
As she said this, Starling took a blank card from the bottom of the stack, but Edna had had enough. The thought of someone she knew being capable of murder was giving her a headache, and she felt unbearably tired.
“This has been a big help, dear.” Her voice sounded weary, even to herself. “I’ve had enough for tonight. How about we start fresh in the morning?”
But that night did not bring much rest to Edna. Falling asleep shortly after crawling beneath the warm blankets, she woke two hours later to the sound of wind and rain rattling the window beside her bed. She thought of Albert, which made her wonder why he had called Dr. Isaacs Phil instead of Phyllis, and then spent the next several hours tossing and
turning, her mind switching between what Albert might be doing and who could have poisoned Tom. Sometime before dawn, she must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, Starling was shaking her.
“Wake up, Mom. The weather bureau has issued a severe storm alert—hurricane force, they’re saying.”
Startled awake, Edna sat up too quickly and immediately felt light-headed. “Wha …” She stared, dazed, toward the window. Rain cascaded down the panes while nearby tree branches whipped and cracked in the wind. “I’d better get home,” she said, tossing the covers aside.
“Maybe you should stay here until they know what the storm is going to do. You could get stuck on the highway.”
Still slightly groggy, Edna swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Have they closed the roads?”
“Not yet. So far, it’s just an alert.”
“Which is why I must leave for home as soon as possible. I’ll feel better knowing everything is battened down.” She reached for her slacks, talking more to herself than to Starling. “I’ll need to fill the bathtub with water and get out candles and the kerosene lanterns.”
“Do you really think you should?”
“Yes, dear.” Edna cut her daughter’s protests short, then smiled, giving Starling a quick hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I have my cell phone, and if I get into any trouble, there’ll be other cars on the highway. People always help each other in these kinds of emergencies. Besides, I’ll only sit and worry if I stay here, and there’s Benjamin to think about. I know Mary will take care of him, but he’ll feel better if I’m home. Now, would you please go make some coffee while I take a shower?”
Starling looked doubtful, but she nodded, and Edna hurried off to the bathroom with an armful of clothes. By the time she’d showered and sat for a minute to have a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, the wind had picked up, blowing the rain almost sideways.
“I’d go with you, Mother, but I have a really important photo shoot tomorrow that I can’t cancel.“
“I’ll call you as soon as I get home,” Edna promised and headed for the foyer, lifting her coat from the rack by the door. “Stop worrying. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
Thirteen
Phyl-lis, Phyl-lis, Phyl-lis,” the windshield wipers seemed to taunt her.
As she left Boston, Edna had been preoccupied by traffic and lights and detours until she reached the interstate. Then, trying to plan how to secure the house against a major storm, she thought about Albert and what he would do. This made her remember that she had forgotten again to phone him last night. Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Was he thinking about her, or was he having too good a time with Dr. Isaacs? I’ll call as soon as I get home, she thought. It was about then that the wipers began their ceaseless chant as rain beat down on the car.
The weather got worse as Edna neared the Rhode Island state line. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she fought to keep her Buick on the road. Momentarily blinded each time a passing car or truck sprayed the windshield, she began to wish she had stayed with Starling. Too late now, she scolded herself.
For a moment, she thought about turning on the radio to find out what the storm was doing, but she decided not to take her hands from the wheel or her eyes off the road, not even for a second. Sticking to the far right lane, she made slow but steady progress, reaching home two hours later after a drive that should have taken no more than forty-five minutes. It was nearly noon, but the rain and dark clouds made it seem more like late afternoon.
Pulling into the detached garage on the north side of the house, Edna grabbed her overnight case and tote bag and hurried along the path to the back of the house, entering through the mudroom. Puddles of water formed on the wood floor from rain dripping off her coat as she shrugged out of the wet wrap. She sat on a small bench to tug off her overshoes and was tousling the water from her hair when a sudden, loud banging on the door beside her made her jump.
Who on earth would be out in this weather? she wondered, reaching over to turn the knob. Mary blew in with a gust of wind and a sheet of water, holding something tucked into her raincoat. Jumping to her feet, Edna grabbed for the door as a large, black dog slipped into the house and, shaking his lustrous coat, proceeded to spray everything and everyone around him.
“Hank?” Edna said, shouldering the door shut against the raging gale. “What’s Hank doing here?”
As Edna was exclaiming about the dog, Mary opened her wet slicker, and Benjamin jumped clear, leaped onto the bench Edna had just vacated, and began to straighten his own coat with long laps of his tongue.
Edna laughed, trying to take it all in. “Don’t tell me you’ve been out walking in this storm.”
“Nope. Saw your car pull in. Thought you might be worried about Benny, so I brought him home.”
“Benjamin,” Edna corrected automatically. She was grateful but protested, “You should have called. I would have driven over to pick him up.”
“Phone’s out.”
“Oh, no.” Edna moved to the electric switch beside the door to the kitchen and flicked it up. “The lights are on. The electricity isn’t out.”
“Not yet.” Mary seemed to be enjoying herself. “It’s only the phone lines so far. I don’t know if we got flooding or if a car hit a pole or what, but the phone’s been out for almost an hour.”
“What’s Hank doing here?” Edna reached down to pat the dog’s wet head.
“Nancy brought him over yesterday. She’s asked me if I would keep him for a few days. She says he’s upsetting Danny.”
Edna frowned. “Upsetting Danny? I would have thought he’d be good for Danny. Hank’s a connection to his grandfather.”
“Actually, I think it’s Nancy who’s bothered by having the dog around. She told me that Hank keeps wandering around the house looking for Tom. She can’t get him to settle down, and I think it’s making her edgy.”
“I can only imagine how much he misses his master.” Edna stooped to scratch Hank’s ears and rub beneath his collar. “It’s hard for all of us, big fella, isn’t it?” Straightening and turning to Mary, she said, “Come. Take off your coat. I’ll heat up some soup and make a pot of tea.” The words were scarcely out of her mouth when she heard the front doorbell and looked at Mary with a frown. “Who could that be?”
“One way to find out.” Mary shrugged off her coat and hung it on a peg beside Edna’s.
Grimacing at the obviousness of Mary’s remark, Edna hurried to open the front door, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Dee burst past her, shaking a partially collapsed and dripping, bright-red umbrella. “Wow, what a storm. I thought I saw you driving through town.” She looked at Edna from beneath the hood of a black rain cape. Edna’s face must have reflected her feeling of unwelcome surprise because Dee said quickly, “I was going to call first, but the lines are down. I came by to invite you to have lunch with me.”
“Hi.” Mary had come up behind Edna, bent over as she held Hank by his collar.
After the two women had been introduced, Mary said with a smile, “And this is Hank.”
Ignoring the redhead, Dee spoke to Edna. “What about lunch?”
“Lunch?” Mary seemed oblivious to Dee’s slight as she looked from her to Edna. “We were just going to make lunch, weren’t we, Edna?”
Edna felt trapped. There seemed nothing to do but invite Dee to join them. Relieving her unexpected guest of the black cape and red umbrella, Edna led the way to the kitchen, deciding to shed her annoyance and make the best of the situation. Dee and Mary sat at the table while Edna reached into the cupboard for her supplementary supply of store-bought tea. Orange pekoe would taste good today, she thought.
Mary turned on the radio so they could all hear news of the storm while Edna fixed lunch. Gale, the appropriately named weather reporter, announced that southern New England could expect heavy rain and gusty winds to last off and on for the next three days. The storm, with winds nearing hurricane force, was com
ing out of the northeast.
While the women ate a simple lunch of hot tomato-basil bisque with oyster crackers, Edna regaled her visitors with a harrowing tale of her drive from Boston, purposely making it sound more exciting and dangerous than it had been. Since Dee and Mary seemed to have little to say, particularly to each other, Edna entertained them with Starling’s story of the out-of-town brother-in-law, ending with the identification of Bev Lewis in the photographs on her daughter’s wall. “Now, what do you think the odds are of that happening?” she asked as Mary exclaimed and Dee murmured over the coincidence.
Throughout the meal, Edna noticed that Mary kept looking furtively at Dee and thought it might be because Dee looked so lovely with her mass of curly blond hair pulled up and away from her face, falling in a cascade behind her ears. Or was Mary studying the gold filigree necklace that Dee wore with her black turtleneck jersey?
Between Dee rudely ignoring Mary and Mary surreptitiously studying Dee, Edna felt her tension grow as the little impromptu party progressed from soup to cookies. She had almost run out of energy to keep the conversion going when Dee stood abruptly and announced that she must get on with her errands before the storm got any worse. Much to Edna’s relief, Mary also left, claiming she wanted to get Hank back home and check on her emergency supplies in case they lost electricity.
Free of company, Edna spent the next few hours preparing her own house for the worst. She filled the bathtub with water, hunted for candles, and checked the oil levels in her hurricane lamps. Knowing how capricious nor’easters could be, she even braved the growing storm to bring in a few more logs of firewood from behind the garage. The wood had gotten wet, but not soaked, and it would dry out before the supply in the basket beside the hearth could be used up.
Murder by Yew (Edna Davies Mysteries) Page 11
