by Lane Stone
A nanny had brought Paris up to us and handed her the leash. Albert was watching his sister, and Betsy used his inattention to waggle her eyebrows at me. With a quick wave to the others she turned and I followed her out. When we were outside I took a deep breath.
“Sue, he is close to making an arrest, isn’t he?” She kept her expression lighthearted for the benefit of the pet parents walking by us in increasing numbers, but in spite of her best efforts, I heard panic in her voice.
“Yes, he knows who to arrest, but he feels he needs more solid evidence.”
“Are we talking about the same Chief Turner? The fine-looking man you’re sleeping with?”
I nodded.
“Haven’t you always had the opposite problem with him? He’s always labeled some poor citizen a suspect too early!”
“Yeah, he is, let’s say, decisive,” I said. She interrupted me with a harrumph. I continued, “But he always comes around. My point is, if he says he needs more evidence to arrest Roman Harper, he does.”
Betsy choked and leaned over, clutching her waist. I grabbed her shoulders. “Who? Did you just say Roman Harper?”
I nodded.
“The billionaire? Married to socialite Bess Harper? Patron of the arts?”
“One and the same,” I said.
“That couple is at the intersection of the wealth of technology and the need for arts funding,” she said. “Do you have any idea how much money one creates and how much the other needs? And the PSO chose Lewes, a town of three thousand people, to come to with none other than Maestro Georg Nielsen!”
“I get that you don’t want to call bullshit on the cultural establishment, but no one gets away with murder,” I said.
Her phone rang and mine pinged and we reached for them. Before I answered mine, I hugged her.
“Sue, stay safe,” she said, as she and Paris walked to her car.
“You too,” I called after her.
As I walked back inside I looked at my phone and saw a message from John. Charles Andrews says to comp him a night in a large sleepover suite for So-Long.
Sure, I texted back.
“Shelby,” I whispered. “Call the hostesses scheduled for tonight and tell them not to come. I’ll spend the night with the boarders.” We have a group of six moms who job-share the overnight hours.
She nodded and picked up her phone to text. “I’ll tell Jeffrey to bring me clean clothes.” Then she telephoned Taylor Dalton and Laurie Williams.
“Where’s Albert?” I asked.
Lady Anthea was inputting So-Long’s new credit on the computer and said, “Abby took him upstairs. I think you’re going to regret teaching her to use the lift.”
“She taught herself, and I already do.”
Chapter 38
At seven o’clock we locked the doors and set the alarm. Lady Anthea and Albert chose more comfortable lodgings. Rather, he wanted to leave and she didn’t want him to be alone. The Harpers knew where he was staying and so I suggested they spend the night at my home instead of my neighbor’s.
Mason and Joey called once to say they were at home safe and sound. An hour later they called again, this time to Shelby’s phone.
Shelby listened, then laughed and put them on speaker. “That’s not the real reason. You guys are checking in on us. That’s so sweet.”
“It is the real reason!” Joey said. “We need you two to vote and settle our argument.”
“Okay, what is it this time?” I asked.
“How much sock should show?” Mason yelled to the phone.
“Do you even need to wear socks?” I teased.
Shelby’s phone buzzed and vibrated. “This is Dana. I’ll add her to the call.”
“Dana! I’m saved.” Joey was laughing so hard he hiccupped.
“How much have you had to drink?” Shelby asked.
Dana talked about the trend of shortening jacket sleeves to show more cuff. Mason had not only heard about it, he had taken a few of his jackets to his tailor. “The important thing is,” he said, “and it’s really important—I forgot what I was about to say.”
When we stopped laughing enough to be able to talk again, Dana said, “You can’t have both short sleeves and short pants length. That’s the important thing.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Mason agreed.
“Because you would look like you’d had a growth spurt,” Dana finished. “Sue, are you still there? You’re being really quiet.”
Jerry had made the same comment. Obviously, the week was taking its toll. I looked around at the sleepover suites. Each was decorated with a different photograph of Frithsden, along with a pet portrait photograph by Dayle Thomas. Dayle was the mom of Dottie the Dalmatian and the woman Rick Ziegler wanted to marry.
“I wish Lady Anthea could be here listening to this,” I answered.
“Her brother is family and he needs her,” Shelby said.
We all agreed that was the most important thing.
My phone rang again at eleven o’clock. Shelby was napping on the cot and I had fallen asleep reading Suffocated by Someone in Suffolk. Abby and Marin Alsop and our other boarders were asleep, some dreaming and some snoring.
“Hi, John.”
“Let me in. I’m downstairs.”
I took the stairs down to the lobby, and after keying in the passcode to disarm the system, I opened the front door.
“Let’s go to your office,” he said. “Here in the lobby we’re visible to anyone driving by.”
We sat close on the sofa, the long arm of the law over my shoulder. “I’d better not get too comfortable,” he said. “Might fall asleep.” His ability to go without sleep at this point in breaking a case amazed me. At first it reminded me of a bulldog’s tenacity, now I knew it was the focus of a Siberian Husky.
“Would that be so bad?” I asked.
“Yes, it would.” I snuggled into his shoulder and he held me tighter. “Talk to me,” he said.
“We’ve felt like we were in the middle of something being orchestrated. Right?”
“Right,” he agreed. “When we found out Cordy was driving that car, I thought she was the key to all this. Even if she wasn’t the conductor she’s going to do time. I’ve spoken to the county prosecutor. She’s had all week to come in and tell what she knew and she chose not to.”
“Have you found a connection between Georg and Nick?” I felt him shake his head no against the side of my head. “How would Nick know who would buy it from him? Or maybe Roman Harper knew that Nick had it from the ransomware attack, and knew who to sell it to.”
“The FBI is looking at Georg’s finances for bitcoin transactions,” he said.
“You loved making that call, didn’t you?”
I found that baritone laugh so soothing.
“Can you trace bitcoin transactions?” I asked.
“The FBI and Treasury can. I really want to find that gun.”
“Can’t you get a search warrant for their house?”
“No, because I have no evidence against Roman Harper.”
“How about where he lives? I think Cordy let him out before she got to a camera and he walked to his house,” I said.
“Not strong enough, since she’s still saying she didn’t pick anyone up.”
“Maybe his DNA is in her car?” I suggested.
“I thought of that, but they would just say he had been in the car before. Let’s face it, you’re my only witness for the attack and the second murder.”
Halfway through telling him about my talk with Betsy Rivard, I jerked upright. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh?”
“On Tuesday when I talked to Bess Harper on the beach I told her I hadn’t seen the man. I know it was Roman’s hand, but now my testimony won’t be worth much, will it?”
“No,” he said, exhali
ng. “If only I had caught him Sunday morning…” His sentence drifted off.
“If Robber and Bernice couldn’t catch him, there was no way you would have been able to,” I said.
“Too bad those dogs can’t be forced to testify.”
“Maybe they can,” I said.
Elvis was singing in the background, “‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’”
Chapter 39
As John left Buckingham’s around midnight, Shelby’s husband, Jeffrey, came in. I went back upstairs, and we spent the next hours comparing the many ways dogs can sleep and taking turns napping in the rocking chairs the night nannies use. Lady Anthea, Mason, Joey and Dana texted to check on us again. By six o’clock I felt stupid from lack of sleep, which made me especially susceptible when the ocean called to me.
Since Jeffrey was there with Shelby I decided it was okay to leave. I changed into the running clothes I kept at work and before I knew it I was driving to Roosevelt Inlet. I had gone there rather than Lewes Beach because although I was sleep deprived, I wasn’t a complete idiot. I parked and walked to the waterline to warm up.
During the night I’d listed my many questions, and now it was up to the ocean to give me some answers. Like, why had Roman shot Nick rather than me? Maybe when Nick learned who the recipient of the original composition was he threatened to expose Georg? He and Cordy didn’t get along so I doubted he would have done it for her. I imagined the USB drive floating in the water. Roman was the link between Georg and Nick, and that proved it—at least to me. Shutting Nick up and getting that USB drive was more important to Roman than killing me. What had Nick told Beaut? Maybe she wanted the truth about Symphony by the Sea to come out? I had guesses for those questions, but there was one question that I didn’t even have that for. What motive did Roman have for killing Georg Nielsen?
I looked out across the bay and breathed. I knew this was where I needed to be. It was hard to have limited thoughts when looking at such an expanse of water.
I remembered how John looked running after Robber and Bernice. “If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay under the porch,” I said to myself. Already feeling better, more confident. Neither were trained as guard dogs, but that day they were.
Since I was jogging south, the bay was to my left and I could see the two lighthouses in the distance ahead. They sat at the entrance to the Atlantic Ocean. I thought about vastness and time. Suddenly, I knew I needed to go back further, earlier. Cordy was to have stayed with Bess for the week, but since she had a dog she was uninvited. The Harpers originally planned to come on Monday but changed their minds.
As I ran I imagined I was Cordy. Angry and frustrated that I hadn’t gotten Georg to agree to acknowledge the work was my creation. He couldn’t agree to that since his contract as guest conductor depended on an original composition. That’s what Margo had said.
Still imagining that I was Cordy, I stomped through the sand, and I see caked sand on my feet. Where do I go? To my car? I’m in front of Bess’s house. I’ll go there.
I stopped running and took my phone out of my pocket. “John? Can I talk to Cordy this morning?”
“That’s up to her. She wants to leave and at this point, she has that right.”
“They’re not rehearsing this morning, are they?” I asked.
“The mayor has discouraged it,” he said.
“Good.”
“I think she made that decision after you and she spoke,” he said, solemnly. “So, thank you.”
I brushed off the comment and asked, “Can you tell Cordy that if she talks to me it could be the difference between being charged with obstruction of justice or conspiracy to commit a crime? Would you let her out to conduct the symphony tonight if this goes well?”
“Define well.”
“If she tells the truth.”
* * * *
I made a quick call to Buckingham’s. Mason and Joey had come in early. Dana was on her way home from school and would be at Buckingham’s by the afternoon. Lady Anthea and Albert were in and she wanted to speak to me.
Shelby handed her the phone. “Hi, I’m on my way back for a shower,” I said. I told her about my mission to the police station. “Want to go with me?”
“Do I ever!” She sounded more like herself than she had all week. “Can you come here?” I hesitated in answering, and she continued. “Please. Albert has changed his flight. He has friends in Martha’s Vineyard who have invited him to stay. They’re sending a limo to take him to BWI and he’d like to say goodbye.”
“Be right there.”
* * * *
“She mixes wildflowers like cow parsley with garden flowers such as tulips, and once I saw her make a floral arrangement with wildflowers and roses,” the duke was telling Mason. He beamed with pride and hugged his sister. So he did appreciate Lady Anthea’s taste and hard work. He did know what a wonderful person she was.
I heard the doors open behind me and turned to see John coming in. I smiled at him before turning back to Albert. “I understand you’re leaving us?”
“Uh, yes.” He looked over my shoulder at John. “Chief, might I have a word?”
John nodded and the two men walked to the gift shop section of the lobby. I went behind the reception desk and checked the computer screen to see who was in for day camp, boarding, and grooming.
Mason whistled. “Nice.” A black limousine parked at our curb. Soon Albert returned and hugged Lady Anthea.
When he picked up his suitcase, I noticed the gold monogrammed crest by the handle. She caught me looking at it and raised an eyebrow. Still no, I mouthed.
Albert gave me a quick nod and said, “Well, goodbye.” From his grave tone I took it I was supposed to understand something other than, “I’m outta here,” though I had no idea what that might be.
“Goodbye,” I said.
“I’ll walk you out,” Lady Anthea said.
They left and John came behind the reception desk. He put his hand on my back and motioned for me to join him in my office.
“What did he want to talk to you about?” I asked.
Shelby, Mason and Joey didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were listening in.
“He’s ceding the field to me,” John said.
“What does that even mean?” I asked.
“He’s going to let me have you.”
Shelby’s laugh came as a shout combined with a snort. Mason and Joey had to hold each other up to get back to the grooming suites.
“He didn’t want me?”
“He said it was too dangerous being around you.”
Chapter 40
Cordy Galligan’s attorney, a fifty-something man in an ill-fitting navy suit, had driven in from Wilmington, Delaware. When John told him about the potential for a lesser charge, he agreed to the interview but warned that he would terminate it before he would let his client incriminate herself.
When Mason heard the lawyer would be there, he insisted I not wear my uniform khakis and button-down shirt with the Buckingham logo. I wore black cotton-and-spandex ankle pants, a black sweater and a bone-colored leather topper. My sandals with four-inch block heels balanced the long jacket—and made John whistle.
Lady Anthea smiled in approval.
“We know your real target is the killer, and that’s not my client,” the attorney said.
John didn’t respond and that seemed to unsettle him. He gave Officer Statler the okay to start the recorder.
“Cordy,” I said as I sat down, “when had you originally planned to come to Lewes with Marin Alsop?”
“On Sunday.”
“And you planned to spend the week at the Harpers’ house?”
“Yes.”
“But they planned to spend the weekend in Washington, DC and come on Monday morning, didn’t they?”
She nodded.
/> “When you left Georg Nielsen on the beach, where did you go?”
“To their house. I let myself in. Bess had told me to and that there was a key under the dolphin statue on the front porch.” I was happy and a little surprised she hadn’t continued with her story about sleeping in her car.
I turned to John. “That’s how the sand got on the floor that made Bess think someone had broken in.” I turned back to Cordy. “What did you do while you were there?”
“I called Alex Whittle.” She bit her lip.
“Mr. Whittle is the orchestra’s bus driver,” John told the attorney.
“I’m letting him down,” she said.
“And you told him what?” I asked, returning to the subject. She was not getting off the hook that easily.
“I think you already know the answer to that. I told him about Georg Nielsen stealing my composition and passing it off as his own,” she said.
“What did you do then?” I asked.
“I realized the Harpers were there and so I left. I didn’t want to talk to anybody,” she said.
“Did you hear someone in the house?” I asked.
She nodded. “That’s why I left. I really shouldn’t have been there. When Bess found out I had a dog she said I couldn’t stay there.”
“Even after you boarded your dog at Buckingham’s, you stayed at the hotel. Why?”
She shrugged. “Pride, I guess.”
I was tempted to offer what I thought was the real reason she didn’t want to stay with the Harpers, but her attempts at honesty had been so short-lived that I couldn’t trust her. I would share it with those who had earned it. “John, can we talk outside?”
As I got up I looked at the lawyer and smiled. “Are you originally from this area?”
“Nah, Chicago.”
John pushed his chair back. Lady Anthea came too, leaving Officer Statler to babysit.
“Roman Harper has such a good memory that he doesn’t even need to use speed dial.” I turned to Lady Anthea. “Remember when we went to their house on Monday and he picked up his wife’s phone to call Ty?”
“Now that you mention it, I do remember!”
