“Not Mother.”
“—Or had to pay blackmail to somebody who knew she’d killed your father.”
Alexander licked salt off his lips.
“How could anybody know?”
“What if she confessed? She was in a really bad way when they found her, wasn’t she? Maybe she thought she was going to die. To ease her conscience, she told a minister or someone at the hospital. Then when she got better and turned out to be a wealthy woman, that person threatened to expose her.”
“That doesn’t hold water, Sarah. Mother could say she’d been raving, delirious, that it simply wasn’t true. She’d count on my backing her up because she never did know I’d seen her get rid of the medicine. I suppose there’s always the chance that some fisherman or someone happened to come alongside the Caroline in the fog at the precise moment she emptied the bottle over the rail, but if he was close enough to see her, then she’d also have seen him. Anyway, why should a blackmailer find it necessary to kill Ruby? They’d have no possible connection with one another.”
“Are we safe in assuming that? I don’t want to undermine your ego, darling, but you did say that you were one of a crowd of fans and couldn’t think why Ruby singled you out as her favorite. I’m sure you were the best looking of the lot, but you probably weren’t the richest or the most sophisticated.”
“Sarah, are you implying that her getting friendly with me was part of a scheme to fleece Mother? What could she get out of me?”
“The jewels, silly. Aunt Caroline would have had to tell whoever was getting the money that she couldn’t give them up because they didn’t belong to her, so they intended to use Ruby to wheedle them out of you. Then Ruby heard about that ruby parure and decided to double cross them because it would go so nicely with her teeth.”
“Darling, you’re seeing mermaids again.”
“All right, I’m only guessing about that, but I do have one solid piece of information. Do you remember Tim O’Ghee?”
“The bartender from Danny Rate’s? How could I forget? His being there when you opened the vault was like a judgment. Frankly, I’ve been wondering why he hasn’t come around trying to blackmail me.”
“Because he’s dead,” said Sarah.
“How do you know?”
“I found him.”
“Sarah!”
“Darling, don’t look so aghast. Let me tell you how it happened. First, you must realize that by Tuesday morning, I was in what you might call a state.”
“You had every reason to be.”
“At any rate, I felt I simply couldn’t endure sitting around waiting for the next awful thing to happen. It occurred to me that if I could find that old bartender, he might be able to answer some of my questions.”
She explained how she’d tracked O’Ghee to his rooming house, and how the landlady had sent her upstairs alone to discover his body.
“Oh, my God!” Alexander gasped. “How did he die?”
“Some kind of poison injected by the needle he took his insulin with, I should think. It had been faked up to look like suicide by Milky Ways.”
He stared at her. “Sarah, whatever are you talking about?”
“Milky Ways,” she repeated. “You know, those candy bars I used to be so crazy about.”
“I thought you still were.”
“I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my taste for them.”
She told him why. “You see, I was supposed to believe he’d stopped his medication and stuffed himself with candy so that he’d go into a coma and die.”
“And mightn’t he have done just that? It doesn’t seem such a bad way for an old man to go, my dear.”
“Of course he didn’t. Why should he? He was chipper as a bee the day before. That landlady of his tried to pretend Mr. O’Ghee was shattered by finding Ruby Redd’s body in the vault because they’d been sweethearts, which was utter nonsense. You should have heard the earful he gave us about what an awful person she was! He wasn’t the least bit sorry, only excited at being on the spot when she turned up and pleased with himself for being able to tell us who she was. Anyway, he couldn’t eat Milky Ways because his teeth were no good. He told me so himself.”
Alexander pondered, his magnificent head bowed into the upturned collar of his threadbare pea jacket. “Then you honestly believe that the landlady staged this whole performance?”
“She and that so-called doctor together, I should say. They were feeding each other lines like a couple of professional actors. Oh, and as a grand finale, they reached into the wastebasket and pulled out a copy of Monday night’s paper that had the story about Ruby Redd and that awful picture of me and Dolph right on the front page. They recognized me from the photograph, accused me of coming there to—to make trouble for my family, and practically threw me out by the scruff of the neck.”
“Sarah, this is unbelievable!”
“I know. It was as though they knew I was coming and set the stage in advance. I suppose what actually happened was that they saw me dithering around outside, wondering if I’d got the right house, and recognized me from the news broadcast Harry and Leila saw. I was wearing the same old brown coat and no doubt looking just as idiotic. The man must have rushed upstairs and planted the things under the bed, then sneaked around back and waited till the landlady signaled for him to make his appearance as the doctor.”
“Would they have time for all that?”
“Easily. The woman kept me talking at the door for a few minutes before she let me in, and then after I found Mr. O’Ghee dead, I stayed upstairs with the body while she telephoned—or pretended to. The man did drive up in a car, but he might have had it parked just around the corner somewhere.”
“Didn’t he have a stethoscope or anything?”
“I don’t know. He never opened that little bag he was carrying, and he kept his overcoat on so I’ve no idea what he was wearing underneath. We were only in the room together for a few minutes before they raised that big hullabaloo and forced me to leave, with dire threats of what they’d do if I ever came back.”
“What puzzles me is why the woman ever let you see the body in the first place,” said Alexander. “Why didn’t she simply tell you Mr. O’Ghee wasn’t around?”
“I suppose because they were afraid I’d keep coming and pestering them if they didn’t scare me off good and proper. Or they may have wondered if Mr. O’Ghee told me something they didn’t want me to know, and thought they’d better take the chance to sound me out.”
“My God, Sarah! What if he had, and you’d let them know?”
“Obviously he didn’t since I got out alive,” she replied with a shiver. She hadn’t thought of that before. “Anyway, don’t you think this opens up some new possibilities?”
“Yes, I expect it does.”
There was a curious hesitation in his voice. Sarah caught the nuance.
“Alexander, don’t you want it to be somebody else?”
“Darling, how can you ask that? Of course I’d rather not have to think of my own mother as a red-handed murderess, but what a terrible injustice I’ve done her all these years if she isn’t guilty.”
“She is guilty of your father’s death, you’re positive of that.”
“Yes, but that’s—not quite the same. The plain fact is that Father could be absolute hell to live with. There were times when I felt like doing something drastic, myself.”
“Not murder!”
“No, I don’t think my destructive fantasies got any further than a punch in the mouth. What I actually planned to do was clear out of Boston as soon as I got my degree and find a job somewhere. I think Mother knew what I had in mind, although we never talked about it.”
“Leaving the family nest would be the normal and reasonable thing for any young man to do.”
“I’ve never been much good at doing the normal and reasonable thing, have I?”
Alexander slid off the wishing rock. “Shall we walk on a bit? I’m getting stiff with sitting, an
d it looks as if the fog’s beginning to lift.”
“Don’t you think we ought to start back?” said Sarah. “Aunt Caroline’s fire must be almost out by now, and I should get going on that chowder if we’re to have it for supper. It’s always better if it stands awhile.”
“You’ll need me to open the clams, I suppose?”
“No, I bought them already shucked. And frozen, unfortunately, since those were all they had.”
“They’ll taste just as good. You make a marvelous chowder, Sadiebelle.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
He smiled a little. “Well, I was rather thinking that if you don’t want my help, I might nip down and have a look at the Milburn.”
“I thought you’d got the old girl all tucked up in her winter nightie.”
“I have,” he answered eagerly, “but it wouldn’t take me ten minutes to untuck her if you’d care for a little spin.”
“Why don’t you take your mother while I’m chopping the onions?” Sarah suggested instead. Jogging along at ten miles an hour in an antique electric car was not her favorite pastime, but Aunt Caroline loved the Milburn almost as much as her son did. “Give her a nice ride, and then she won’t feel quite so abused and neglected if we go off again by ourselves this afternoon. I do believe you’re right about the weather. Look, there’s the patch of blue big enough to make a Dutchman’s breeches.”
“And the sun’s trying to break through,” said Alexander. “Perhaps it’s an omen, Sadiebelle.”
15
THEY WERE SURPRISED TO realize how long they’d been out. By the time Sarah and her husband got back to the house, Aunt Caroline was wondering in aggrieved tones if they were ever to get any lunch.
Alexander pacified his mother with the promise of a ride in the Milburn, then went to get the electric out of its winter wraps while Sarah broiled a fresh halibut steak she’d found, by a miracle, at the fish shack. They had it with grilled tomatoes and hot corn bread, and were thoroughly enjoying the meal when Alexander suddenly exclaimed, “Sarah, I can’t leave you here alone. What if that trespasser’s still around?”
“Peeping Tom?” She shrugged. “We didn’t see anybody on the beach, and your mother stayed here alone all morning without being bothered. I’ll lock the doors and windows, but I’m honestly not a bit frightened to be by myself for half an hour or so. You don’t intend to be gone long, do you?”
“No, darling, just down the road and back. You’re quite sure you don’t want to come?”
“You know Aunt Caroline hates it if we all squeeze in together. Alexander, we mustn’t let this situation get to us. I may simply have imagined that man last night. Go ahead and play with your precious toy. I’ll be fine.”
“Then lock the door behind us, and if you get the urge to do some more investigating, wait till I get back. Promise?”
“I promise. Have fun.”
She kissed him good-bye and watched him help Aunt Caroline down the drive. They kept the Milburn in a shed not far up from the road, to spare her aged axles the torture of the climb. Sarah waited at the door until the dip of the grade hid them from sight, then she dutifully turned the key in the lock and went to peel onions and chop salt pork.
Preparing a genuine New England clam chowder is not a task to be taken lightly. Intent on what she was doing, Sarah again lost track of the time. It wasn’t until she was adding the milk to the cooked onions and potatoes that it occurred to her Alexander and his mother ought to have returned some time ago. Even if temptation to go a bit farther than he’d planned got the better of him, he wouldn’t dare keep the Milburn out very long for fear its batteries would run down.
Maybe they had. It might not be a bad idea to take the Studebaker and go out looking for the Milburn. Sarah knew the route they’d be most apt to take. Aunt Caroline always liked to be driven up along the cliff road, although she could no longer admire the view of the ocean.
That wasn’t far, though, and there were a couple of year-round houses along the way. Alexander couldn’t call his wife if they got stuck because the telephone had been shut off for the winter, but he’d surely be able to find somebody willing to bring Aunt Caroline back and explain about the delay. Everybody knew the Kellings and their crazy old cars.
The early dusk began to gather. Now Sarah was really scared. She was putting on her coat when she heard a car churning up the drive. That wasn’t the Milburn; the little electric was virtually noiseless. They must have had to be towed. Alexander would be heartbroken. She went to offer condolences, and was confronted by a policeman in uniform.
“Mrs.—er—Miss Kelling?”
“Mrs. Kelling, yes. What is it, officer? Something’s happened to the Milburn, hasn’t it? Is my husband all right?”
“Your husband? I’d have thought—no, Mrs. Kelling, I’m afraid he’s not. He and his—the lady that was with him—”
“His mother. Where are they?”
“They went over the cliff,” the policeman said doggedly. “A young fellow happened to be down on the rocks and saw the car go over the seawall into the water. He tried to reach them, but there was nothing anybody could have done. You know what it’s like, a thirty-foot drop and all those big jagged rocks standing up out of the water.”
“Like teeth. When I was little, Alexander used to tell me they were giants’ teeth.”
Automatically, Sarah stepped back from the door to let him in. She didn’t seem to be very steady on her feet.
“Hey, you’re not going to faint on me?” The policeman caught her by the arm and steered her over to the sofa. “Is anybody else in the house?”
“I—no, just myself.”
“Okay, Mrs. Kelling, take it easy. Anything to drink around the place? Brandy? Whiskey?”
“There’s some sherry in the pantry. On a tray with three glasses. I was going to—I thought they’d like—”
Sarah twisted both fists into the ribbing around the bottom of her baggy green sweater. “Are you sure it was Alexander?”
“Mrs. Kelling, do you think I’d be here if I weren’t?”
What a kind face the policeman had, she thought, kind and tired, as though he’d had to do this sort of thing too many times.
“The kid called us,” he explained. “Jed Lomax is a volunteer fireman. He heard the sirens and came to see what was up. Soon as he found out what had happened, he knew who it was. He says he’s worked for your folks a long time.”
“That’s right. Ever since—I don’t know when. Since Alexander was a little boy. I’ll get my coat.”
The policeman said something, but Sarah didn’t hear what it was. She put on the scruffy old storm coat, not noticing when her sweater sleeves got wadded up halfway to her elbows inside the coat sleeves, and let him lead her out to the patrol cruiser.
She didn’t know where he took her. She was in a thick gray fog, like the one she and Alexander had gone walking through that morning. She was taken into a room where there were two high, rolling hospital beds with long bumpy ridges on them covered with white sheets. The sheets were damp in spots, and stained watery red-brown. Before anybody could stop her, she went over to the bed that had the longer ridge and pulled away the cover. Half of Alexander’s face was handsome as ever. The other half wasn’t there any more.
A hand put back the sheet. A voice said, “He didn’t have time to suffer, if that’s any consolation?”
Sarah shook her head. How could there be any consolation? “Is—is Aunt Caroline—”
“Jeez, I wouldn’t look if I were you. For the record, maybe you could tell us what she was wearing? It’s a formality we have to go through.”
Sarah wet her lips. “I can’t seem to remember. Her blue tweed suit, I suppose, and a matching cape. And a blue-and-green-print scarf around her head, and her pearls. She always wore her pearls.”
“No other jewelry?”
“Little gold earrings and a plain gold wedding band. On her right hand, not her left, because she was a wido
w. Is—is that all right?”
“Fine. Thanks for coming. You’d better go on home and try to get some rest. Walt, you want to take her? Maybe those pearls had better go, too. Are they valuable?”
“Yes.”
Sarah didn’t realize she was supposed to take the envelope that was being held out to her. The kind policeman slipped it into her coat pocket and took her by the arm. She pulled the fog back around her and was not aware of anything else until she smelled wood smoke and mildew and knew she was back in the living room of the summer house.
“How about drinking a little more of this wine?” he asked.
Sarah tried to sip at the sherry he was holding to her lips, ashamed that she was making things so difficult for him. “Please have some yourself,” she urged. “I’m sure you need it”
“Thanks, but I’m on duty. I sure could use a cup of coffee, though. Sit still. I can make it, if you don’t mind.”
“No, let me. I’d rather be doing something. Or perhaps I could give you a bowl of chowder. I was making it for my husband.”
That was when she went to pieces. The policeman found a clean tea towel and stood clumsily patting her shoulder while she mopped at her face with it and got the sobbing under some kind of control. At last she was able to talk.
“I do beg your pardon. You’re being so sweet to me, and I’m acting like a fool. It’s just that—I’ve loved him all my life!”
“Sure, sure. I know how it is. Say, isn’t there somebody I can get hold of to come and stay with you? Your mother or your sister?”
“My mother’s dead and I have no sister. I’ll be all right. I need a little time to get used to it, that’s all.”
“But you’ve got somebody,” he persisted. “Friends? Relatives?”
“Oh, yes, scads of relatives.”
Poor man, what a pickle for him to be in, alone in a house with a weepy widow.
“Do let me get you a bowl of chowder,” she sniffled. “Perhaps we’d both feel better if we had some hot food inside us.”
“Sounds great to me, Mrs. Kelling.”
Family Vault Page 14
