Third Time's a Crime
Page 20
“Yes,” he said.
“Why did you deny being up there?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It was nonsense, really. I’d found the dumbwaiter and followed the path. I found him upstairs. Both of us knew neither of us was supposed to be up there and we certainly didn’t want to share anything we’d found. This is a contest after all. Then we heard you break through the floor.”
“Did you push him out the window?” I asked.
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous,” Dr. Arch said. “I’m a doctor, not a murderer.”
“You’d like to win the show badly,” I said. “Your Hollywood career depends on it.”
He stared back at me. “Well, so does yours.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been invited to be on another show, but the offer’s contingent on my doing well here.”
He smiled and nodded.
“And you, likewise?” I asked.
He grumbled. “How do you know?”
“It’s the way Hollywood works,” I said. “Garner an audience, and you get to keep playing.”
“Yes,” he said, looking a little sad.
“Did you tamper with the results?”
His eyes grew wide, and they flickered over to the camera. “Of course I didn’t.”
That was all I needed to know. He needed to win this show in order to continue his career, and I needed to get justice.
I flipped through the pages of Jane’s file. Something was amiss. Something was missing in this report that was in the file Officer Holtz had given me at the police station.
Gertrude’s name was gone.
Someone had scrubbed the report that was given to the final four contestants.
Who would have had access to it? Could Gertrude herself have taken care of that? It suddenly seemed that I needed to speak to Gertrude.
I whipped around to Adam, the cameraman, as I sprang up from my chair. “Tell Cheryl I’ve got her finale!”
I raced down the corridor and bolted out of the castle in search of Gertrude. In the parking lot was one of the sound techs, whose name I knew was Collin.
I called out to him. “Collin! Collin! Have you seen Gertrude?”
“Who?” he asked.
“The historical society lady, Gertrude. She’s running around here, the one who doesn’t want us on the third floor who’s been trying to kick us out.”
“Oh, that bat? Yeah, she just sent our food service truck away. She’s hovering around the gardens, but be careful, she’s seething. She hates that we’re here and can’t wait until we’re done.”
“I need a word with her,” I said. Adam, the cameraman, made to follow me but I shooed him away.
“I have to get it on tape,” he said. “Every move you make.”
“All right,” I said, “but not with Gertrude knowing. Can you be discreet?”
He nodded. “I can put a camera on you if you give me a minute.”
I agreed. Together we went over to one of the trailers and he set me up with a camera hidden in my clothes. “Is this really going to work?” I asked.
He said, “I don’t know, but I think I’ve set you up a little better than those silly police stings.”
I laughed. “Well, what do the cops know? You’re a Hollywood pro.”
He grinned at me. “Remember, this is not a live feed. Be careful, Georgia.”
“Oh, I will be,” I said.
After all, I’d been through the police academy. I knew how to take a suspect down if I needed to. But right now I needed to speak with Gertrude before Scott or Cheryl could stop me.
I headed back toward the gardens and saw that Gertrude was now wandering around the pool grounds.
She saw me approach, her face fixed with a look of disdain. “Are you still skulking around here?”
“I’m not the one skulking,” I said. “We have a show to produce.”
“Right. Why don’t you get back to work? You all are supposed to leave here by ten P.M. tonight. I refuse to let this go on any longer.” She glanced at her watch.
“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” I said. “For us to stop poking around into the murder of Jane Reiner.”
She quirked an eyebrow at me. “I want the murderer to be found as much as anyone else.”
“Was Jane your friend?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, no. I didn’t know Jane.”
“You were living in Golden at the time of her murder. And later you came to work here. You’ve been at the castle a long time.” I said.
“Well, there’s nothing unusual about that,” she said. “I’m a local. A lot of the locals have been to the castle. We grew up around here.”
“But you didn’t know Jane?” I asked. “You and she are about the same age.”
She looked at me. “No, I wasn’t allowed near the castle when I was a youth. There was all sorts of debauchery going on here. My parents wouldn’t allow it,” she said.
“Right, but you certainly love the castle now. You protect it with everything you have.” I said.
She shrugged at me. “So what, a lot of us would. This is our local economy. We make money off the castle. This is how our town survives, otherwise we’d be pushed into the cities with everybody else, living in a bunch of human filing cabinets.”
“Apartments?” I asked.
She waved a hand at me. “Call them what you want, but they’re certainly not castles. Anyway, working here has allowed me to stay out in the country, enjoy the acreage and the fresh air. There’s nothing like it.”
She had a point there. Being a farm girl myself, I knew exactly what it was like to live in the country. Instead of arguing with her about the merits of town versus country, I said, “I find it hard to believe that you didn’t know Jane.”
She jutted her chin out at me, challenging me. “Well, I didn’t. Anyway, I’ve been here all my life. If I had done something suspicious, the police would’ve caught on by now.”
She had a point there, but there was still the problem about the missing page in the police report.
“I saw your name in the police report,” I wagered.
She glanced at me. “Yes, I imagine everybody’s name was in the police report, the whole town probably,” she said. “They asked everybody questions when that poor girl was found.”
“Well, the funny thing is, there are pages missing out of the police report the final members of the cast were given.” I said.
She looked at me, a blank expression on her face.
Waiting for me to say more.
“You wouldn’t have tampered with something that was given to the contestants, or would you have?” I asked.
Her face turned red and she closed the distance between us. “Listen here. I don’t know what you’re implying, but I haven’t tampered with any police reports. I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Right.” I remained calm, itching to increase the distance between us. Because of my training, I knew it was best to keep all her limbs in my line of sight. I took a small step back. “Here’s what I think,” I said. “I think Jane’s murder is connected with the drowning of Merle Greens.”
“What? That was an accident,” she said. “Everybody knows that. The whole town knows it.”
“I’m willing to guess that it wasn’t. Somebody drowned him and somebody knew about it. Maybe Jane witnessed it. Could she have been killed to keep her silent and keep the other crime a secret?”
Gertrude looked as if I had completely taken her by surprise. She paled. After a moment, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose anything is possible. Stranger things have happened.”
I pressed further. “Well, we’ll soon know,” I said. “I recovered a piece of critical DNA from Jane’s bedroom.”
She put her hands on he
r hips. “So you broke the rules again and headed up there, didn’t you? I can’t wait for all you Hollywood types to be out of here.”
“Karen Kenley is investigating the DNA match right now,” I said.
Gertrude studied me carefully. “What do you mean?”
Was that fear in her face?
“We’ll soon know the identity of Jane’s killer,” I bluffed.
Gertrude’s eyes shifted around the grounds, looking for an escape. Then our eyes landed on the same item. A rusty pair of pruning shears discarded near the rosebushes.
“We didn’t kill Merle,” Gertrude said. “He drowned. It was an accident!”
“You were there the day he drowned, weren’t you?” I guessed.
“Gabriel was in love with me. He fought with Merle, but it wasn’t his fault. Merle slipped on the rocks and smashed his head. We had to get rid of the body or Gabriel would have never been released from the reform school. Walter saw the whole thing. He helped us. We convinced the police that Merle had gone swimming and never returned. And then it was all over,” she said.
“But Jane saw the fight, too, right? From her window. You couldn’t convince her to stay quiet.”
“That’s right,” Gertrude sneered. “Walter and Gabriel didn’t know about her. I knew if they figured out she was a witness, if they knew she could keep them locked up forever, they would have folded. Gabriel was soft and Walter was just stupid. I had to do it.”
“All these years—”
“Yes, all these years, I kept it quiet.” She shifted toward the shears, inching closer to them ever so slightly. “Gabriel moved out of state and Walter stayed around, but none of us talked about it. The murder mystery of Jane Reiner kept this castle in business. Haunting tours, Halloween spook-taculars, we were doing all right. Until your stupid Hollywood show came along.”
I grimaced. “But the pay was good, right? You thought you could take the money and keep everyone in the dark.”
“It would have worked, but after all these years, with you all poking around . . . and seeing Gabriel . . . Walter suddenly developed a conscience, decided he had to confess,” she said.
“You couldn’t have that.”
“No. I killed him in the basement. I would have gotten away with that, too, but you were out by the pool. I thought you saw me. Then Gabriel. He wouldn’t leave. I begged him to go, but he returned. I had to get rid of him.”
“You were going to use the wheelbarrow again. Move the body.”
“Yes,” she said. “I had to get rid of the evidence. But you were there again. Everywhere I turn, there you are. It’s like you’re haunting me.”
“That’s why you sent me to the third floor, right? Hoping I’d kill myself?”
Her face reddened with fury. “I wish you had. Now I’m going to have to do it myself!”
She dove for the shears, with an agility that astounded me. I raced behind her, slower than I’d anticipated, my stitched thigh tighter than I’d realized.
She reached the shears and hurled them at my head, the point grazing my temple. I cried out as I lunged for her legs, tackling her and bringing her to the ground.
“You have the right to remain silent,” I said.
I may not have been a cop anymore, but I could always perform a citizen’s arrest.
But before I could say more, a white light appeared next to us. Gertrude gasped and my breath caught. Hovering above the ground was a young woman that looked like Jane. She smiled at me and then in a blinding flash, she disappeared, leaving behind such a warm glow that peace spread through my chest, and I suddenly felt complete.
Justice had been served.
Twenty-six
INT. LIBRARY DAY
Georgia and Scott are seated in high-back chairs. Georgia’s hair is curled softly around her face. She wears a lacy white top and lavender hip-hugger pants. Scott is dressed in a blue button-down shirt and slacks. His eyes are fixed on Georgia, doting on her.
GEORGIA
Hello, America. I know you’ve just been shown the confession reel from our killer. I’m happy to report to you Gertrude is in custody and is awaiting due process.
SCOTT
Thanks to you.
GEORGIA
Us. All of us. I can’t take all the credit. Without the amazing cast and crew, I would have never gotten close to figuring out who did it. (lowers her eyes) And I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner. I could have saved some lives.
SCOTT
No, Georgia. Everyone makes their choices. Those men sealed their fate the day they turned their back on Merle. (pauses) You do believe in fate, don’t you?
GEORGIA
(smiles) Definitely.
SCOTT
(stands up and pulls Georgia to her feet) You have to believe. (He reaches into his pocket and gets down on one knee.) Georgia, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?
GEORGIA
(takes his hands in hers) I will. Oh, Scott. I will.
Scott pops open the box and places the ring on Georgia’s finger.
They kiss.
What’s next on
your reading list?
Discover your next
great read!
* * *
Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.
Sign up now.
Diana Orgain is the USA Today bestselling author of the Love or Money Mysteries (A Second Chance at Murder and A First Date with Death), the Maternal Instincts Mysteries, and coauthor of Gilt Trip with Laura Childs in the New York Times bestselling Scrapbooking Mysteries. She holds an MFA and BA in Creative Writing from San Francisco State University with a minor in Acting. Diana’s plays have been produced at San Francisco State University, GreenHouses Productions, and PlayGround in San Francisco. She lives in the city with her husband and their children. Visit the author online at dianaorgain.com.