“He paid $575,000 for that thing. It has a navigation system, a galley, sleeps people. It’s incredible. He just lost his head. Midlife crisis, I guess.”
“Why would he take it out on you?” Ben asked, voice level as though this were a coffee-break conversation.
“Don’t you usually lash out at the people closest to you? Knute and I have been friends ever since I moved here. I told him he was losing it. Told him not to be impulsive. He wouldn’t listen. The bills mounted up and I think he just snapped. Even his wife didn’t know how bad it was.”
Charlotte, Carter, Walter, and Ben considered this as they walked up the long steps to the front doors of Old Main Hall, lights blazing inside.
Felicity, Howard, and Pamela Rene had joined Sister, Tootie, Valentina, and the others.
Sister greeted Ben, then said, “Whatever this is about, starting with the hanging of Al Perez, is in these cases.”
Ben’s eyes took in the artifacts. He turned to Tootie, Valentina, Felicity, and Pamela. “You worked with Professor Kennedy more than the other students, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied.
“When she handled these objects, did she say anything that aroused your interest?”
“No. We gave Mrs. Norton our notes,” Pamela replied.
“They did. I reviewed them briefly. Seemed like a dry description to me.”
“What about the photographs?” Ben persisted.
“No,” Valentina answered. “She made us shoot every side or angle of the objects. But she didn’t say anything.”
Tootie thought a long time, then said, “The only thing she did that I noticed was sometimes when she was writing up her description she’d put a star by an item.”
“Did you put that in your notes?” Sister asked, her intuition about Tootie’s intelligence and plain good sense again confirmed.
“This ring a bell with any of you other girls?” Ben corrected himself, “Young ladies?”
“Well, I saw her do it, but I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t put a star in my notes. But my notes aren’t very good,” Pamela confessed.
Valentina shrugged, “I didn’t pay much attention. Sorry.”
Felicity chimed in, “Sometimes when I’d photograph an object—that was my job—I didn’t take too many notes, but Professor Kennedy would come over and pick up some things, not others.”
“What’s unusual about that?” Bill was curious.
“At first I didn’t think anything, but then I began to see that what she picked up was usually in good shape. She didn’t touch other things at all and some things no one touched. They were too delicate. She had me photograph them in the cases.”
“Charlotte, would you get Tootie’s notes?” Ben asked the headmistress.
“Of course.”
As Charlotte left for her office, Ben said, “Why don’t you first show me what she wouldn’t touch?”
“Sure.” Pamela walked right over and pointed to a large basket made of soaked strips of wood. Small bits of yarn, the balls long ago removed, remained inside along with a pair of horn knitting needles.
“Was the area underneath, around these kinds of things, clean?” Ben asked.
“Depends.” Valentina led him to the case next to the one where Pamela had pointed out the basket. “See this baby’s bonnet? It’s been dusted around it but we were afraid to pick it up because it’s disintegrating.”
“I see.”
“But most of the stuff is clean, shelves, too.” Valentina wondered what they’d find.
“Are the jewels real?” Ben asked, just as Charlotte returned with Tootie’s handwritten notes as well as the ones she’d typed into her computer. She also had the key to the cases.
“She didn’t say anything about that. I mean, Professor Kennedy didn’t say if the jewelry was expensive.” Felicity studied a fancy brooch as Charlotte returned.
“Charlotte, have any items ever been removed from these cases with your knowledge?”
“The only time I know anything has even been taken out of these cases is during Professor Kennedy’s investigation.”
“Tootie, point out from your notes anything Professor Kennedy starred.”
As Tootie’s eye ran down her lists, Sister asked Bill, “Would it be possible to sew diamonds onto dresses without anyone noticing?”
“You mean noticing that they were real diamonds?”
“Yes.”
“It’s possible.” He shrugged. “Seems like a lot of work. Wouldn’t it be easier to put them in a safe-deposit box?”
“Old Main Hall is always open, right?” Gray asked.
“No, it’s locked at night,” Charlotte answered.
“So who could get in?” Ben raised an eyebrow.
“Any member of the school’s administration or Jake Walford, in charge of buildings and grounds.”
“You could unlock the doors?” Ben asked.
“I could. My secretary could. Knute. The entire administration is housed in Old Main.”
“Al Perez?” Sister was beginning to get an idea of how the crimes were committed but she still didn’t know what it was—was it diamonds, was it drugs?
“Yes,” Charlotte answered.
“Could Bill get in?” Sister persisted.
“No, not without one of us.” Charlotte, too, was seeing the pattern.
“But Bill, you could come in the middle of the night with Al or Knute?” Sister focused on Bill, who was calm.
“I could. I didn’t, but I could.”
“Were Al and Knute close?” Ben asked. “I didn’t think they were. If they were, it didn’t come out when Custis Hall people were questioned.”
“They had a good working relationship,” Bill offered. “I wouldn’t say they were close.”
Charlotte nodded in assent.
Tootie quietly asked the sheriff, “Do you want me to point out the items?”
“I do, in one minute, Tootie. Charlotte, who knows about the key to the cases?” Ben could feel his own excitement rising.
“Teresa, my assistant. Knute, the treasurer. I think that’s it.”
“Did you ever notice the key had been moved?”
“No,” she answered Ben.
“Is it locked up, the key, I mean?”
She blushed. “Well, no.”
“Do you have it now?”
“Yes.” Charlotte opened her hand, a key on a wide, dark blue ribbon nesting within.
“Charlotte, if you have no objection, I’d like you to open these cases and for Tootie to remove those items that Professor Kennedy starred.”
“Of course.”
Bill interjected, “Charlotte, what if something falls apart in your hands?”
“I’ll take full responsibility. Under the circumstances, I think harming an item is the lesser of two evils.”
Bill said nothing, but his disapproval was apparent.
“Carry them over here to this table,” Ben instructed.
Tootie removed a gold snuff box with a small ruby in the center. She took out General Washington’s epaulettes, his dress sword, shoe buckles, and a beautiful brocade vest.
Sister, Charlotte, Ben, Pamela, Felicity, Howard, Gray, and Valentina crowded around the table. Bill stood just behind this group as did Walter and Carter.
“May I touch this?” Ben pointed to the snuff box.
“Of course,” Charlotte assented.
Delicately, Ben picked up the snuff box, examined it, flicked open the lid. He sniffed the inside; no hint of tobacco remained. He replaced it.
As he reached for the epaulettes, Sister remarked, “Aren’t they in remarkable condition?” It hit her. “Ben, too remarkable.”
A collective intake of breath followed. Sister pulled the .38 from her coat pocket.
Bill took a step back, turned.
Walter grabbed his arm but Bill shook him off.
“Bill!” Charlotte called.
“Bill, stop or I’ll shoot,” Sister also cal
led.
“Ty’s outside the door. You won’t need to exercise your marksmanship.” Ben’s dry sense of humor somehow fitted the rigors of his profession.
Bill flew through the front doors, only to be brought back in a matter of minutes, hands handcuffed behind him.
Ty marched him to Ben and the gathering. “He thought he’d rather live.”
“Bill, what have you done!” The enormity of his betrayal was seeping into Charlotte’s consciousness.
“You might as well tell us, Bill. If you cooperate, things will go easier for you.”
“Sheriff, that’s what you guys always say,” Bill said, his lips pressed together.
“I’ll say this for you, Bill Wheatley. You’re a fabulous costume and set designer. You’ve obviously stolen the original items and faked these”—Sister picked up the epaulettes—“under our noses.”
Bill remained silent.
“You killed for this?” Tootie asked her teacher.
“Tootie,” Bill smiled sardonically, “there are six and a half billion people in the world. What’s one more or less?”
C H A P T E R 3 4
Tuesday’s hunt, December 20, was well attended. College students were home for the holidays. Jennifer and Sari were there and Sari was thrilled that her mother rode with the Hilltoppers. People took off work. Tootie, Valentina, Felicity, and even Pamela, who begged her parents, stayed with Sister and would be there until December 22, when they’d all go home.
Charlotte, also on school break, hunted with Bunny. Everyone needed a physical release from the strain and the extraordinary events.
Sister had had a long talk with Shaker and Walter. They all agreed that Crawford must be asked to leave the hunt. Still, there were many details to be ironed out. They expected him to hit back and hit hard. They’d just have to deal with it, although they knew one of his weapons would be money.
The good news was the hunt ball made Shaker realize that he couldn’t live without Lorraine and he loved Sari, her daughter, as his own. He had asked Lorraine to marry him yesterday so she wouldn’t think he’d done this in the upheaval of the ball or the arrest of Bill Wheatley. She had said yes.
“Guess you asked her when she experienced a weak moment,” Sister teased, then hugged him.
The hunt, down at Chapel Cross, proved wonderful. The grays began traveling in twos early so they picked up a courting gentleman fox. After they ran him to ground, they picked up two others. What a lovely day.
Once back at the trailers, Ben Sidel joined them. He could rarely take off a Tuesday, usually hunting only on Saturdays.
They gathered around the tailgate as Ben told them Bill finally confessed.
“How did it all fit together?” Sister asked Ben for all of them.
“You know, it was ingenious. I’ll give them that. Knute, Bill, and Al all wanted and needed money. Not that Custis Hall doesn’t pay a fair wage, but academic salaries are slim by comparison to other professions. Write it down to greed. Al would sound out those alumnae, or usually their husbands, who would pay big bucks for a sword of Washington. Some people want to own things. We’ve begun questioning those alumnae who bought things from Al and Knute. Knute had a wide net of contacts but quite different from Al’s. Some knew the items were purloined, others did not. Knute’s contacts were people in business who wanted Washington’s epaulettes on their desk or in a display case. An ego thing. They even sold the sword to a museum in Oregon and they faked a document of agreement from Custis Hall. They did this for two years. At night, Al and Knute would unlock a case, after Bill had made a replica, take the original item; Bill would replace it with the fake.”
“And there’d be nothing unusual about Al or Knute working in the evening if anyone passed Old Main,” Charlotte remarked.
“They split the money evenly three ways,” Ben continued. “But Al got shaky after a time and wanted out. Neither Knute nor Bill trusted him not to turn on them to save his own hide should any of this come to light. Knute wore the second Zorro costume. Bill arranged that. And before killing Al, Bill showed Knute Hangman’s Ridge, where the den was. When Halloween came, according to Bill, it was a piece of cake. Knute sprinted to his car, parked away from the Great Hall, drove back, and lured Al out of his car by saying they could have some fun with the kids, seeing double, scare the hell out of them. Bill said he wasn’t there, obviously, being in the school bus, but Al willingly went along with Knute’s ‘gag,’ including putting his head in a noose because Knute said he had another fake corpse. He just wanted an idea how high to lift it or something like that. Bill embellishes.”
“Why so public an execution?” Charlotte thought it way too grisly.
“Theatrical. Make a show. Draw everyone away from the real issue, which was the artifacts in the cases. All was going well until Pamela staged her protest. Al lost his composure after that. He wanted out anyway, that put him right over the edge. It worked for a while. The hanging diverted our attention.”
“Then Professor Kennedy showed up and they both knew time was running out.” Sister felt sorry for the tiny lady, whom she liked.
“Knute did his best to keep current with Charlotte’s plans about responding to the protestors’ issues, which, of course, involved the artifacts. He thought they could make it through the middle of the next semester—wrap things up, as it were. Bill could feign an illness. Knute, if it got too close, would just vanish, but they’d be out of here before the theft of the items was discovered.”
“Yes, we were going to appoint a search committee for an expert in this time period and in slave life,” said Charlotte. “but Pamela beat us to it. When I investigated Professor Kennedy’s credentials, I thought, ‘Why not just get this over with in this fiscal year?’ Knute harped on the budget so I thought we might as well take the hit now in hopes our treasury report for next year would be better. I didn’t see any point in spreading out the pain.”
“Both men showed great self-possession,” Walter said, wondering how they could do it. He’d be ravaged by guilt.
“That they did, until the hunt ball.” Gray also thought their ability to act almost admirable. “Who called Sister?”
“Bill,” Ben replied. “He couldn’t resist adding to the drama. And maybe he was beginning to fear Knute.”
In Bill’s case, they might expect it, but for Knute to keep cool, that was something.
“When I asked for the girls’ notes at lunch both Bill and Knute were at the table. That must have sent a bolt of fear through them.”
“It did,” Ben answered Charlotte. “They had no way of knowing how extensive those notes were. They didn’t think Professor Kennedy had told you of her findings because she was the type to make a complete presentation. She wouldn’t have wanted to upset you or Custis Hall without a thorough documentation. Bill met her at the airport before her flight, and learned that she had mentioned irregularities.”
“He killed her?” Betty thought this all dreadful.
“He offered to help with her bags. Said he was flying out, too, but the flight was delayed, which it was as it turned out. Luck played him a good hand. He talked her into a quick lunch, drove down a back road close to the airport, opened the passenger window, shot her in the left temple before she knew what hit her. Most of the debris flew out the window and he cleaned up the rest, dumped her at St. John’s of the Cross. Before he shot her he pulled the gun on her, asking if she’d told Charlotte that items were bogus. She told the truth, hoping to save her life.”
“How much money did they make?” Gray asked.
“Six and a half million dollars. They also sold forged signatures of George Washington. Bill is a man of many talents.” Ben reached for a chocolate chip cookie.
“And a good actor,” Walter said.
“This is terrible for Custis Hall. It will be public record,” Charlotte honestly stated.
“They were clever. They might have gotten away with it for several more years if Pamela hadn’t thrown a monkey wrench
into the works. There’s no way anyone could have foreseen this,” Gray said soothingly.
“No, but it might have been prevented if there had been better security on those cases,” Charlotte said, admitting her failing.
“Knute would still have been able to get into the cases. He was treasurer of the school. You trusted him. We all trusted him,” Sister said.
They talked, ate, considered why some people break the social contract and others don’t.
As people returned to their trailers to head for home, Walter asked Tootie why she stepped in front of Crawford at the hunt ball.
“I owed him one, Mr. Lungrun.” Tootie smiled sweetly. “He helped us when we were lost in the fog.”
“A debt of honor.” Walter, towering over her, dropped his arm over her shoulder.
While Tootie was with Walter, Pamela, Felicity, and Valentina had seen to the horses, even cleaning the tack using the five-gallon water carrier in the trailer tack room.
Sister double-checked the hound list at the party wagon with Shaker. “Good day, huntsman. Good day, hounds.” She called out to Betty and Sybil, “Thank you. Good work.”
“It was a good day, wasn’t it?” Betty beamed.
Sister gazed at the four girls, all together now at her trailer. “Shaker, it’s wonderful to have children in the house. Today is the feast day of Dominic of Silos. He was born around A.D. 1000. He’s credited with healing powers, especially about pregnancies.”
“Thinking of throwing a litter?” Shaker laughed.
“Ah,” she smiled, “my time has passed, but if I could, I would. Well, you can make up for me.”
“I don’t know.” His face turned red. “Funny how we hunt Chapel Cross and there’s St. John’s of the Cross at Little Dalby. And so many times the foxes will run to the little country churches. Guess they’re getting religion since those churches are full of dens.”
“Crawford has already broken ground for St. Swithun. The foxes at Beasley Hall can now worship. It will cost a bloody fortune.” Betty now stood with Shaker and Sister. “We haven’t talked, but Jane, I know what you have to do. I think most of the members will understand. He’ll go down swinging.”
“Well, we’ll get through it, Betty. We always do.” Sister paused a long time. “Funny thing about getting older. You realize every relationship you ever had, on every level, is always with you. The people who hate you. The people who love you. The people whose love turned to hate. And the people who didn’t think much of you and over time learned you were worth your salt. And then you think of the ghosts. Their feelings about you. I sometimes think RayRay is near.”
The Hunt Ball Page 23
