At the top of the hour the news came on. The announcer began with. “Dick Pearson, the man who made the grisly discovery last week of bones in a local septic tank, has confessed to the murder of Harry Wilson, previous owner of the septic tank property.”
Chapter 23
“Mr. Pearson,” the newscaster continued “told police that soon after he’d arrived home Sunday night, Harry Wilson had shown up. They’d got into a fight and Dick had grabbed a cast iron frying pan from his table, hitting Harry Wilson over the head with it. Mr. Wilson fell to the floor. When he tried to get up, Mr. Pearson panicked and hit him three or four more times. He then half-carried, half-dragged the body of Mr. Wilson to his truck. Mr. Pearson admitted he was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight when he left the body by a creek close to the bed and breakfast belonging to the victim’s daughter.”
For the second time in two days Elizabeth was stunned. She listened for more.
“When asked about his motive, Mr. Pearson said: ‘Harry Wilson stole my sweetheart from me once. I couldn’t let him do it to me again.’”
He’d loved Peggy so much that he had killed Harry to prevent him from messing up her life again. What a tragic love story. Elizabeth felt sorry for Peggy. It seemed as if she was destined to lose out on love.
Elizabeth decided to make a quick stop at Elvina’s. She wanted to know if she had remembered who the man in the sketch was, and if Brian had contacted her. She really wanted to know if her own theory about Harriet being Brian’s grandmother and Harry being his father was true. If it was, she might have a future solving crimes and writing about them.
There wasn’t any answer to her knock at Elvina’s door so she went away disappointed. She would have to wait until she saw Brian.
Elizabeth stopped in at the RCMP detachment to let them know she was back, and then drove by the acreage on her way back to the B&B. It looked strangely abandoned. The house was gone and only the cement foundation remained. The barn and other buildings still leaned, but the yard was full of dirt mounds and many of the bushes had been pushed over. Would the corporation just leave it like that?
When she arrived back at the B&B there were no news vans parked in front and no reporters asking questions. Even the parking lot was empty. Did that mean Brian and Cindy were gone? Now she was very discouraged. If they were, she wouldn’t have a chance to ask him anything.
Al and Shirley sat in silence at the kitchen table. They barely acknowledged her greeting. The only one glad to see her was Stormie, who was back from the neighbour’s, and that was because of Chevy. And Chevy was just as excited to see her. Elizabeth had been neglecting him these past few days. Chevy and Stormie went outside with a ball and Elizabeth sat down at the table.
“Raymond Clarke and the Sinclairs checked out this morning,” Al said. “I hope you understand that we need to close down for a while so we’d appreciate it if you’d check out tomorrow.”
“We can give you a list of other places to stay,” Shirley added.
“That won’t be necessary,” Elizabeth said gently. “I was planning on leaving tomorrow anyway. How is Peggy doing?”
“Not very well. This whole experience has been tough, and then to learn that Dick killed Harry because of his love for her was the last straw.”
“I can imagine. I had a hard time believing it when I heard it on the radio. Did he go to the police?”
“No, he came over here drunk and told her about it,” Al said. “We called the police.”
“Why did he come here?”
“He kept saying they could go on the cruise now and she could marry him. That she didn’t have to go back to Harry.”
“So he actually thought there was a possibility that she might have done that?”
“He was incredibly drunk, almost incoherent,” Shirley said.
“Do you think she would have?” Elizabeth felt so sad for Peggy and Dick.
“No,” Shirley said, emphatically.
“So, if he killed Harry to keep him away from Peggy, why did he confess?”
“Like I said, he was drunk, so I don’t know if he really meant to. When he sobered up, and found himself in jail, he did say he probably would have confessed eventually. He admitted he’d been drunk since the killing and that was because of his conscience.”
“What happened to Raymond Clarke?”
“He was released and he came back here to pack. He didn’t say where he was going.”
“What about the book the newspapers said the police had found and used as evidence against him?”
“He thinks it fell out of his pocket on one of the walks he took there,” Shirley said.
“Yes, that makes sense. He told me he liked to walk the path at night,” Elizabeth said, feeling guilty that she had been so ready to convict the poor man of murder.
Stormie and Chevy came through the door. Chevy was panting. He must have had a good workout. That meant she probably didn’t have to walk him. Stormie gave him a bowl of water. Chevy lapped it up greedily.
In her room Elizabeth turned on the television. A movie was playing. She didn’t bother to look for anything else. She left it on for background noise.
She felt a nagging dissatisfaction about not finding out if Brian had gone to see Elvina and if Martha’s mother Harriet was his grandmother. She wondered if he’d mentioned anything about her theory to Peggy or Shirley, but there was no way she was going to ask either of them. After all her effort, she would have to go home without learning the truth of the matter.
Elizabeth had a shower and laid out the clothes she would wear tomorrow. The rest she folded into a pile. When the movie ended the news came on and she sat on the bed to watch. There was a repeat of Dick Pearson confessing to Harry Wilson’s murder but not one word on Septic Stan. She guessed it was old news now. That would be another mystery that wasn’t going to be explained before she left.
* * * *
In the morning, Elizabeth carried her clothes and toiletries to her vehicle then went to settle the bill and say her goodbyes.
“May I see Peggy before I leave?”
“I’ll check if she’s up to it.”
Shirley returned quickly. “She said she’d hoped you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”
Elizabeth walked into Peggy’s bedroom. She looked pale sitting up against the dark pillowcase. Her hair was mussed and she was holding a cup of coffee.
“It’s been quite a stay,” Elizabeth said. “Does Shirley offer all her guests so much excitement?”
Peggy smiled wanly. “If she plans to, I’m going to quit coming.”
“Dick must really have loved you.”
Peggy blushed. “I guess he did, but I don’t know where to draw the line between love and what he did. I’d hate to think killing someone was a sign of love.”
“Probably more a sign of fear.” Elizabeth hesitated. She hated to admit her nosiness but… “When I was getting your clothes that day, I noticed an old black and white picture of you and a young man on your dresser. I’ve been curious ever since. Who was he?”
“Ah, you’ve been wondering all this time if he was Harry or Dick, haven’t you?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, he’s neither. That young man was my brother. He was killed just two months after that was taken, and I’ve kept it as a reminder of him ever since.”
Well, at least she knew the answer to that question. She hugged Peggy goodbye.
As Elizabeth drove to Fort Macleod she knew she just couldn’t leave without talking to Elvina again. She needed to have some answers. So instead of heading west out of town to Highway 2 and home, she went east to Lethbridge.
“Come in,” said Elvina when Elizabeth knocked and she smiled when she saw her. “I wondered when I’d see you again.”
“I finished my research yesterday.” Elizabeth said as she sat. “I couldn’t go home without seeing you to say goodbye.”
“And you’re wanting to know if Bria
n Sinclair came to see me.”
Elizabeth grinned. You sure couldn’t fool her. “That, and if you remember where you know the man in the sketch from?”
“First of all, Brian did stop in to see me. He confirmed that his grandmother’s maiden name was Douglas, the same as Harriet Barber’s maiden name.”
“So she was his grandmother.”
“It appears that way.” She waited a moment. “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t tell you. I thought he should know first.”
Elizabeth nodded in understanding. “Did he go to see Martha?”
“He called her from here. He said he was looking for his father, Allen. I don’t think Martha took it very well. She hung up on him.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Wouldn’t you if some stranger phoned you and said he was your nephew because your mother had had a son in Ontario and left him there?”
“Yes, I guess I would.” It had seemed so easy from her point of view. “So that was the secret Harriet told you.”
“Yes.”
“And no one knows yet who or where his father is.”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“What about the man in the sketch?”
Elvina reached for the newspaper with the picture on it. She stared at it again.
“Did you ever meet an Allen Sinclair during the time you knew Harriet?” Elizabeth asked
Elvina shook her head.
“So you don’t know if that sketch is of him.”
“No. Do you think it is?”
“I’m just wondering if Harriet Barber’s illegitimate son might have shown up at the farm,” Elizabeth said.
“Oh, I see and Warren Davidson, fearing that he might lose the farm, killed him?”
“How could he do it, though, without Harriet or Martha knowing?”
“They might not have even known he’d been there at all. Or Warren might have threatened to kill them, too, if they said anything,” Elvina said. “I just thought—if the car belonged to Allen Sinclair, that would explain why Warren didn’t want the photograph of the farm getting out.”
Elizabeth liked talking with this woman. Their minds worked the same way. “Except, the photographer offered to take the car out of the picture and Warren still didn’t want it. I can only guess that the reason was because he hadn’t built the farm up so he didn’t have any emotional attachment to it.”
“So, if he killed Allen Sinclair, what did he do with the car? I don’t recall ever seeing them driving anything other than a farm truck.”
“He probably took off the license plate and hid it somewhere on the farm.”
“That could be true.”
“Well, we could sit here for hours and go round and round with our questions and theories. And though I thoroughly enjoy your company, I really have to go,” Elizabeth said, as she stood up. “It’s been a real pleasure meeting you. Thank you for all your help.”
“You can repay me by sending me a copy of the magazine with your article in it.”
“I certainly will.”
Elizabeth had one more place to go.
She stopped behind Brian Sinclair’s car, which was parked in front of the Davidson’s house. She rang the bell. She could see Brian and Cindy standing just inside the door. Cindy turned and let her in. Brian moved further into the living room to make space for her. Martha sat on the far end of the couch with Warren standing beside her. Neither appeared to notice her. They were staring at Brian.
Brian took a letter from his pocket. “I have proof that we are related. This is from Betty Altman, my father’s half-sister on his father’s side. She raised me after he left to come here looking for his birth mother. It says that my grandmother’s maiden name was Harriet Douglas. Your mother’s maiden name was Harriet Douglas. You are my father’s half-sister on his mother’s side.”
Martha’s voice was barely a whisper. “That proves nothing. There were probably a lot of Harriet Douglas’ around here at that time.”
“Mrs. Davidson, Allen Sinclair is your half-brother, isn’t he?” Elizabeth took over. “He came to see your mother sometime after you married Warren Davidson.” She’d given up thinking that Allen and Harry were the same person.
Martha shook her head but didn’t speak.
She directed her questions at Warren. “Did Allen want half the farm? Did you kill him to keep him from doing that?”
Martha gasped and looked up at Warren. He was staring at the floor. Was she on to something? Could it true? But what about their lives since then, the harmony, the trips with her mother, the love between them? Could Martha and her mother have forgiven Warren that easily?
“Mr. Davidson, is that why you killed him? To keep the farm?”
Warren sank down beside Martha. He took her hands in his. Neither of them answered.
“Are you my aunt and uncle?” Brian asked. “Did you kill my father?”
“No,” Warren moaned. He put his hands over his face and dropped his elbows to his knees. “No.”
Elizabeth’s cell phone rang. What bad timing. She tried to ignore it but the noise kept up. It had broken the spell. She opened the case and took it out to turn it off, but saw that it was Elvina’s number. Her heart gave a little thump.
“Hello?”
“Now I know why I didn’t remember who he was.”
Eureka, she’d finally remembered!
“His face was fleshier, with heavier jowls.”
“Whose face? Who was it, Elvina?” Elizabeth could hardly contain herself.
“Warren Davidson’s face.”
“What do you mean, Warren Davidson’s face?” Elizabeth glanced at Warren, puzzled. He was staring at her.
“The sketch is of Warren Davidson, but without his jowls and chins and before he started to go bald. I thought it was strange at the time. A few months after I was run off their farm I saw Harriet, Martha and Warren in town. I was surprised to see them all together and I was really shocked at how much weight he had lost. It made him look a lot younger. It was windy that day and the wind blew off the hat he was wearing. He quickly grabbed it and put it back on but I could see that he had gone quite bald. “
“Are you sure it was Warren Davidson you saw?”
Warren and Martha sat closer together and entwined hands. They were supporting each other. Elizabeth looked at his head with its fringe of hair above the ears and around the back.
“Well, I didn’t speak to them but I assumed it was him because he was with Martha and Harriet and he was dressed the way he always was in coveralls and plaid shirt.”
“Thank you for telling me this,” Elizabeth said. “I’m at the Davidson’s home right now. You should call Corporal Hildebrandt at the Fort Macleod RCMP and let him know what you just told me.” Elizabeth didn’t know exactly what it meant.
“According to Mrs. Thomas, you changed a lot after you married Martha,” she said to Warren. “You went from a large man with jowls and lots of hair to a young, slender, bald man.”
“Farm work makes a person lose weight, and I couldn’t help what my hair did.”
“But, you’d been large for a long time after you started working on the farm.” She paused, then everything suddenly fell into place. “You’re Allen Sinclair aren’t you?” she blurted.
The people in the room fell into a shocked silence when Elizabeth asked that question, herself included. Warren slumped back heavily on the couch as if he’d been pushed. Brian’s mouth gaped. Everyone remained silent as they digested what her question meant.
“Are you?” Brian finally asked.
Martha started to protest but Warren leaned forward and put his hand on her arm. “It’s time,” he said to her.
“No!” Martha cried.
“Yes, it is. I’m tired.” He looked at Brian. “I’m Allen Sinclair. I’m your father.”
The two men stared at each other. Neither made a move to say anything more. And no one knew what else to say.
The doorbell rang. Two
police officers stood on the step. Elizabeth opened the door and let them in. They introduced themselves as being from the Lethbridge RCMP detachment.
“Corporal Hildebrandt from Fort Macleod called us to come and keep everyone here until he could arrive,” one of them said.
They must have been in the neighbourhood to get here so fast, Elizabeth thought.
* * * *
Brian, Cindy and Elizabeth found places to sit. The officers stood. They waited in silence. Even Cindy managed to sit without fidgeting. After a few minutes, with the officers’ permission, Elizabeth went to let Chevy out of the Tracker for a run and to give him some water.
It felt like hours to Elizabeth before Hildebrandt walked in and looked at them sitting in the living room. He asked to speak with her first. She followed him into the kitchen.
“I’ve just talked with Elvina Thomas,” he said. “She told me about remembering who the sketch reminded her of and she said it was of Warren Davidson before he’d lost weight and some hair. She gave me a quick overview of the history of the Davidsons and Barbers and she told me how Brian Sinclair came to visit her. According to her you are the one I should talk to about Warren Davidson.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and explained what she’d found out over the past week and a half. “I wanted to learn the history of the area and was told to speak with Elvina Thomas and Martha Davidson since Martha and her mother had written a book. Martha gave me a copy of the book with her mother’s name, Harriet Barber, on it. I found out that Brian Sinclair was in Fort Macleod looking for his father and grandmother and that his grandmother’s maiden name was Harriet Douglas. I figured Harriet Douglas and Harriet Barber might be the same woman and mentioned it to him. He tried to contact Martha to see if it was true but she hung up on him.
“During that time I also discovered that when they were first married Warren Davidson used to beat Martha, and her mother was scared of him. Around the same time an aerial photographer was taking pictures of farms in the area. Elvina had one but the Davidsons didn’t and I wondered why. I went to the photographer and he remembered that Warren didn’t want the photograph because of a car in it. When Mr. Gunther, the photographer, offered to remove it from the picture, Warren chased after him with pitchfork. Then suddenly Martha, Harriet and Warren moved into Lethbridge and became one happy family even taking holidays together.”
The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 27
