Ghost Walk

by Laurel Pace

  They had just seated themselves in the sunny dining alcove when the doorbell chimed. Dani took a quick sip of juice before excusing herself. "That must be Ben."

  "Having a late breakfast?" Ben eyed the glass of juke Dani held as he sauntered through tiie doorway.

  "Umm, yeah. Gee, thanks for bringing this tape by. I really appreciate it. Did Kate say when she needed it back?"

  Ben's attention was now clearly focused on the strange man wearing a head bandage and a beach-towel toga seated at Dani's table, and he took a few seconds to answer. "You can keep it as long as you like," he replied absently.

  Dam inadvertently glanced over her shoulder to catch Ken raising his juice glass in a jaunty greeting.

  Always equal to the occasion, Ben nodded politely to Ken and then checked his watch. "Well, I guess it's time for me to get going. That's a six o'clock setup for the anniversary dinner tomorrow night, right?"

  "Six o'clock. And thanks again, Ben." Dani closed the door so quickly, she almost caught the tail of his jacket.

  "Ben is the actor who arranged my meeting with Kate McPherson," Dani explained as she returned to the dining nook. "I'll introduce you two sometime when you're more..."

  "Introduceable," Ken provided helpfully.

  Dani held the videocassette up for his inspection. "Why don't we pop this into the VCR and have a look at it while we eat breakfast?" she suggested, but Ken had already collected the plates and was headed for the living room. He folded up the sofa bed and then arranged the coffee table directly in front of the entertainment center. Dani and Ken perched on the edge of the sofa, nibbling at the scrambled eggs while they waited for the tableau to appear on the screen. The color bars dissolved into a rainbow of squiggles and were then replaced by a shot of the theater's stage.

  "That's the place where the troupe rehearses," Dani explained to Ken between bites of toast.

  They watched intently as the costumed players assembled on stage and the action began. The story was easy to follow, thanks to the thorough grounding Kate had given Dani. The dramatic content of the enactment was of only secondary interest to Dani and Ken, however, for their attention was focused on one minor character hovering on the sidelines.

  Dani pointed with her fork to the picture's foreground. "Lawes is dressed in the same costume he was wearing when I saw him at the theater Thursday afternoon." She suddenly jumped in her seat, almost choking on a corner of toast. "Oh, my God! He knew about the yacht!" She grabbed the remote control and hit the freeze-frame button. Ken swung around on the sofa to face her, his bruised brow knit in a puzzled frown. "What do you mean?"

  Dani coughed into her napkin and then cleared her throat. "I just remembered something from my meeting with Kate. I told you that I caught Lawes hanging around outside the office. Well, when we were trying to work out a time for me to pick up this cassette, I mentioned to Kate that I had an appointment at the yacht club on Friday. I'm sure Lawes heard me. If he suspected I was on a trail that could lead to the Bandeira Branca, he might have figured he needed to beat me to the boat—to destroy whatever he feared I would find there."

  Ken studied the caped man frozen on the television screen. "The next logical assumption is that Lawes is responsible for the extortion note and the murder. That means he somehow found out about this child of Richardson's that Ned Poole alluded to."

  "Remember that Lawes's mother worked closely with Richardson for almost twenty years," Dani said. "She could have learned about the child in much the same way Ned Poole did. Bea would have been too loyal an employee to broadcast such a revelation about her boss, but she might have inadvertently let it slip in front of her son."

  "I can go along with that line of reasoning, but that still doesn't answer the question how Lawes managed to kill Richardson."

  Dani reached for the remote and released the actors hanging in suspended animation. "Let's look at this tape very carefully. Lawes's role wasn't a major one, so no one's attention would have been riveted on him. See, they're duelling right now, and you scarcely notice Lawes over there to the side."

  "It was dark on the piazza," Ken agreed. "He conceivably could have slipped into the shadows. But would he have had enough time to circle around to the back of the house shinny up onto the balcony, commit the crime and then get back downstairs before anyone was the wiser?"

  Dani frowned as she rewound the videocassette."I don't know." The admission made her feel profoundly dejected.

  Ken reached for the remote control. "Why don't we do a little experiment? Got some paper and a pencil."

  Dani went to the kitchen and returned with a notepad and a felt-tip pen. She sat back down next to Ken, eager to continue.

  "Okay, draw a big square on that paper. That'll be our diagram of the stage. Now let's track Mr. Lawes's position. I'm going to move through this tape very slowly. We'll stop the action every time he changes places on stage and make an X on the diagram. I'll time each shift so we'll know approximately how long Lawes could linger on that mark."

  Following Ken's suggestion, they reviewed the tapeiour times. Although the actor remained toward the front of the stage for the first half of the performance, his position gradually shifted to the rear as the action between the protagonists heated up. By the time the young dance master challenged Captain Parr to a duel, Lawes had drifted to the back of the stage, near the periphery at the left of the screen.

  Dani surveyed the black Xs arranged on the pad, along with the time noted next to each. She had been so elated with the lead she thought she had uncovered yet now, their hopes of substantiating it seemed frustratingly remote. "All we've really proved is that Stephen Lawes should have been standing somewhere near the back of the piazza at the end of the performance." She tossed the notepad onto the coffee table and slumped back against the sofa. "Too bad we don't have a tape of Saturday night's performance."

  Ken retrieved the discarded notepad. "We could still give this a dry run. What's to stop us from going to Richardson's house and pacing off Stephen's part in the vignette? We could even see how long it would take someone to sprint around back and try to get upstairs."

  Dani liked the sound of the plan, but after the debacle of the previous evening, she had written off clandestine operations for good. "What if Bea or Sapphira are at the house? Somehow, I don't think either of them would be thrilled to have us bounding all over the piazza and the back garden."

  Ken smiled wryly. "Then I guess we'll just have to wait until they aren't there. It's worth a try," he added, rightly interpreting Dani's ambivalent expression.

  Dani shoved herself up from the sofa. "I agree, in principle at least. Why don't we drive over to the house right now, before I come to my senses and back out?"

  "Uh, I think we may need to stop by my apartment on the way." Ken stood up, holding the folds of the beach towels out to each side as if he were about to curtsy.

  Dani chuckled. "Good thinking. We're going to attract enough attention as it is. And while we're trying to reestablish ourselves as respectable citizens, I ought to give Theo a call. Before he calls me," she added ominously.

  Ken followed Dani to the kitchen, posting himself in the doorway to lend moral support. Praying that she hadn't exhausted her entire supply of luck the previous evening, Dani crossed her fingers in the fervent hope that Rebecca wouldn't be visiting her fiance and chance to pick up the phone. Dani was relieved to hear Theo's cultivated voice answer. Far from expressing any rancor over Dani's presence on the yacht, the younger Boynton was full of gentlemanly concern for her well-being. After empathizing with her interest in seeing the Bandeim Branca firsthand, he filled her in on his most recent conversation with the police.

  "They haven't charged anyone yet, but I'll continue to press them. To think that such a malicious act of vandalism might have cost two people their lives!" Theo heaved a disgusted sigh.

  "Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help further the investigation," Dani urged him. She smiled at Ken and gave him an opti
mistic thumbs up.

  "As a matter of fact, I would appreciate your talking with Richardson's insurance man, Art Prevost. I'll be in Father's office tomorrow morning, trying to catch up on some of his business while the phones are quiet. Art offered to drop by around eleven. If you could be there, it would be very helpful."

  "I'll be glad to talk with the insurance agent. In fact, I'll bring along the bartender who accompanied me to the yacht club yesterday. He was injured by the person who set the yacht on fire, you know."

  At the word injured, Theo swallowed audibly. "Yes, of course, bring him by all means."

  After Dani had said goodbye to Theo and hung up, Ken unfolded his arms and followed her to the living room. "Sounds like you aced that one," he complimented her. "Am I going to have to dust off Bartender Ken again tomorrow?"

  "Uh-huh, but it's the least we can do for Theo. Besides, who knows what we may learn if we can get him talking about the yacht. Apparently, my luck is on a roll right now. I suggest we head for Richardson's house before it takes a reverse."

  Ken disappeared into the bathroom to change into his salt-caked pants and shirt before he and Dani set out on foot from the condo. His apartment was less than five blocks away, closer than Dani had imagined, a tiny furnished efficiency that would almost have fit into her living room. In a record five minutes, Ken had dressed in clean clothes. Another five, and they were in his car, headed toward King Street.

  The thoroughfare in front of Richardson's house was lined with cars, but it was impossible to tell if any of them belonged to someone inside the imposing Federal Period home. Ken parked on South Battery, within sight of the house. He and Dani watched for several minutes, alert to any sign of activity behind the bare windows. Finally, Dani reached for the car door latch.

  "We're going to sit here until we have cobwebs on us, and we still won't know if anyone is home. I'm going to find out once and for all." She snapped the door open impatiently.

  "How?"

  Hand still on the car door, Dani stuck her head through the open window. "Knock and see."

  If Bea or someone equally forbidding answered the door, Dani would simply say she wanted to apologize for the earlier intrusion. It would be hard to fly into a rage at someone trying to say she was sorry. Still, Dani hoped no one would respond to the horseshoe-shaped brass knocker she was rapping against the door. She knocked three times, waiting a generous interval between each attempt, before she was satisfied that the house was empty. She tried not to feel like a prowler as she waved to Ken, motioning for him to join her.

  They both felt faintly silly as they referred to their diagram and began to measure Stephen Lawes's progress around the piazza. Without the crush of guests spilling out of the house and onto the lawn, it was hard to estimate how much space the troupe had actually occupied. Then, too, a spot that seemed blatantly visible in broad daylight might have afforded the actor plenty of cover at night. By the time they had located and timed Lawes's positions over the entire performance, neither Dani nor Ken felt they had reached any iron-clad conclusions.

  "Let's see how long it takes to sprint around to the back of the house from that corner of the piazza," Ken suggested. His eyes followed the sweep hand of his watch as he counted under his breath. He signaled with his hand, and both he and Dani rushed down the piazza steps, past the thick stand of trimmed shrubs and into the rear alley. They were racing toward the wrought-iron gate when they spotted a heavyset woman trudging toward them, a bulky parcel clutched to her chest like a shield. Dani managed to brake just as Mona Sams bhnked over the edge of the brown-paper-wrapped bundle.

  "Miss Blake! Well, it's certainly nice to see you again." The friendly housekeeper smiled at Dani from behind her burden. "Just had Mr. Whyte's draperies cleaned, and I thought I'd get them hung before they close the house up for good. It's quite a chore, I'll tell you." Her graying head nodded toward a Ford station wagon parked at the end of the alley. The rear of the vehicle sagged, packed to the ceiling with more brown-paper bales.

  "I'll get those for you," Ken was quick to offer.

  Mrs. Sams smiled in a grateful benediction. "Why, that would be right nice of you." Dani imagined the woman almost added "sonny" before catching herself.

  While Ken trekked back and forth between the station wagon and the courtyard, the housekeeper invited Dani to have a seat at the white patio table. Without the threat of Bea Lawes suddenly appearing to put a damper on things, Mona Sams seemed relaxed, even chatty.

  "Just make yourself comfortable, Miss Blake. Nobody's here to mind a visitor or two today," the housekeeper confided with a wry smile that left no doubt which somebody she had in mind. She disappeared into the house for a few minutes. When she returned with a rosewood tray decked with minted iced tea and sesame-seed cookies, Ken had just deposited the last of the packages on the brick patio steps.

  "When I'm doing housework, I always keep a little something cool in the refrigerator." She dispensed the refreshments with the grace of one practiced in fine service. "Though I don't imagine I'll be doing much work around here after today." The housekeeper stiffly eased her substantial frame onto one of the patio chairs. A heavy sigh stirred her expansive breast, a sound that was at once weary and sad. "Sure is going to take some getting used to, after all these years."

  "How long did you work for Richardson? My mother and I were invited to an open house here one Christmas. I was only about ten years old, but I remember the lady who served us eggnog and cookies. You must have come after her."

  An earthy chuckle rumbled up from inside Mrs. Sams's chest. "Honey, that was me. There was just a whole lot less of me back then. No, ma'am, I've run this house for almost thirty years, before you were even born, I dare say."

  Dani smiled down at her plate, breaking a chunk off one of the crisp wafers. "But only barely." Her face sobered as she looked up at the sturdy woman sipping tea across from her. "This must be quite an adjustment for you."

  Mona replaced the sweating glass on the table. "Thirty years," she repeated, as if she had trouble believing that impressive figure herself. 'Course, when Mrs. Whyte was still alive, I only came in for part of the day or to help out when they were having a big party. That was just fine with me. I didn't want to work full-time anyhow when my young ones were still at home."

  "Richardson never had any children, did he?" Ken asked.

  The housekeeper shook her head as she reached to refill his glass. "No. To tell you the truth, I don't think his missus wanted 'em—that was just one of the things they didn't see eye to eye on. She was high-strung—you know, the kind that always has to have everything just so in its place. Believe me, that's not easy when there are children about." Her large dark eyes traveled from Dani to Ken as if she were offering them a bit of cautionary advice. "But I do think Mr.Whyte wished he had done different on that count when he started to get on in years, all alone by himself."

  Ken casually fished out a mint leaf floating on the tea's amber surface. "How do you know?"

  Mona's strapping shoulders rose in a shrug. "I just know how I'd feel right now if I didn't have a bunch of grandkids to fuss over and spoil. But, no, I believe Mr. Whyte made a big mistake not taking another wife."

  "Maybe he never met the right person," Dani suggested, helping herself to another cookie.

  "Could be, although there were lots of ladies who wouldn't have minded becoming Mrs. Whyte, I can guarantee that." Mona's voice dropped to a confidential hush. "Especially that secretary of his."

  "You mean Bea Lawes?" Ken's dark blue eyes widened in interest.

  Mona Sams pursed her lips, making only the flimsiest attempt to conceal her distaste. "I've never approved of a woman chasing after a man, mind you, but I know sometimes a person just can't help herself. Even so, Beatrice Lawes went too far. Taking advantage of a grieving man when he's most likely to have a weak moment!" The housekeeper clucked disapprovingly. "Why after Mrs. Whyte passed away, wasn't a week gone by when Bea was in this house trying to take over. I
let her know, plain as I could without being rude, that I could manage Mr. Whyte's house without any of her help, thank you. But, oh, she was a trial! Always 'dear Richardson this' and 'poor Richardson that,' always meddling in his affairs, looking after what he ate and wore, telling him what to do like he was a little boy. I could see clear as anything that she was trying to get him so dependent on her, he'd have to marry her."

  "Did Richardson seem to chafe under Bea's attention?" Dani asked. Mona heaved another of her eloquent sighs. "I think he was a bit flattered by it," she conceded. "But you know how men are when women fuss over them." She hastily cast an apologetic glance at Ken before going on. "Still, I think Bea Lawes was one reason Mr. Whyte would hightail it off to Brazil for months on end, just to get free of her for a while. Now if it had been me, I would have given her a big hint to start looking for another job. Mr. Whyte was too good-hearted for that, though, especially after Bea's husband had up and left her with a child to raise all by herself." Mona's gaze shifted to the empty serving dish. "Would you care for some more cookies?"

  "No, thank you, Mrs. Sams." Dani exchanged glances with Ken, but she could see that he, too, was eager to have a private talk. "This was really lovely. I hope we haven't kept you from your work." Smiling, she stood up, and Ken followed suit.

  "Not at all. To be honest, I don't much care to spend a lot of time here by myself since everything happened. This house just has a funny feel to it." For the first time that afternoon, a shadow of uneasiness passed across Mona's face. "I'm going to make quick work of those drapes and then be on my way home. I've got a grandson that's turning ten tomorrow, and I want to bake him a big chocolate cake."

  Dani wished Mona an enjoyable birthday celebration with her grandson. After she and Ken thanked the kindly woman again, they let themselves out of the wrought-iron gate opening into the alley. As they turned into King Street, Dani plucked at Ken's elbow.