The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  "It does imply that this was deliberate, doesn’t it."

  "Yes," Elizabeth said. "Now let’s try a different track. Maybe her death had nothing to do with the retreat. Bonnie said she and her husband were splitting up. What do you know about that?"

  "Oh, Gerald was terrible to her. Going out with his friends and not coming home for days, drinking while at work and getting fired from his jobs, laying around the house and not lifting a finger to help with the housework. She had a steady job and was paying all the bills. Then after work she would have to cook their meals, and clean the house on her days off. She is so much better off without him."

  "Would he be the type to get mad enough about the split to kill her?"

  Madeline’s eyes widened. She put her hand to her throat. "I never thought about that." She shook her head. "I don’t think so, he was usually too drunk to care about anything."

  "But he was losing his meal ticket, the person who was supporting him."

  "Still, I can’t see him doing it, not because he wouldn’t have gotten mad but because he didn’t have the mental ability to plan something like this nor the physical energy to execute it."

  "Did Bonnie have a life insurance policy?" Elizabeth asked.

  Sally was watching and listening to Elizabeth. She now understood how she worked when she was trying to figure out who had committed a murder. Her mind seemed to be going in many different directions. The questions she asked proved it. She didn’t settle for just one possible theory, she wanted to explore as many as she could think of.

  "She did at work."

  "And I’m assuming Gerald was the beneficiary."

  "I believe so." Madeline nodded.

  "Do you think he would kill her over that?"

  "Oh, I don’t think so. It was only for about twenty-five thousand dollars."

  "Well, if you are out of work and your wife is calling it quits probably leaving you on the streets, twenty-five thousand is a lot of money."

  "Oh, my god."

  This time Sally put her arm around Madeline as she rocked back and forth.

  * * *

  "Let’s go into the Village," Elizabeth said, after they had eaten supper. "I could use a strong drink and lots of people around."

  "Okay, I’ll phone for a cab," Sally said.

  Elizabeth and Sally wandered along the Village Stroll and stopped at one of the outdoor patios. They found an empty table and sat down. When the waitress came over Elizabeth ordered a Caesar while Sally asked for a rye and water, neat.

  Sally was taking a sip when she noticed the man from the flower yard coming across the Village Stroll. She rose and waved to him. “Hi,” she called.

  It took a moment for him to recognize her, then he smiled and nodded back.

  "Would you like to join my friend and me?"

  "Thank you, I would."

  Sally noticed that he staggered a little as he walked towards their table. Had he already had a few drinks? When they were seated, she said. "I’m Sally Matthews and this is Elizabeth Oliver."

  "My name is John Peterson." He shook both their hands.

  "Is your daughter joining you?"

  "No, I called a cab and snuck out. I do that sometimes just to get away on my own."

  Elizabeth looked quizzically at Sally.

  "John has the prettiest yard in Whistler," Sally explained their relationship. "I walk by it on my way to the retreat."

  The waitress came over. "I’ll have a cup of coffee," John said. "I’m not much of a drinking man."

  So that didn’t explain his unsteadiness. "The first day we met you said you left your job and moved here," Sally said. "How long have you lived here?"

  "Six, no seven years. And I hate it."

  "You do?" Sally asked, surprised. "This is Whistler. Most people would do anything to live here."

  John shook his head. "Not me. I liked it better in Sparwood where we lived before."

  "Then why did you move?" Elizabeth asked.

  John seemed to think that over. "My wife died and I was very lonely. I had a few girlfriends but nothing serious. Then I won the lottery." He stopped, remembering.

  "Did you buy the ticket here in Whistler?" Elizabeth asked.

  "No, in Sparwood. My picture was on the front page of the paper and women began to throw themselves at me. My daughter, Wendy, moved in. To protect me, she said. She wanted me to quit my job and move somewhere else to get away from all the charities, friends, and relatives who wanted money. She loves to ski so insisted we buy here."

  He played with his cup a few moments. "Now she tries to run my life, not letting me go anywhere without her. She’s even talked about selling my car.”

  Poor man, Sally thought. It sounded like he needed someone to talk to. “Why would she want to sell your car?”

  “About three years ago my doctor prescribed some pills for my high blood pressure. She’s worried that something might happen while I’m driving.”

  “You should be okay as long as you take the pills,” Sally said.

  “Well, I have no choice about that. She makes sure that I take them every morning. Sometimes she also gives me vitamin pills. I think she gives me too many of those because I don’t feel well after taking them and I can’t always remember things."

  “What type of vitamins are they?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I don’t know,” John answered. “She keeps them somewhere in her bedroom.”

  "You said you see a lot of people who attend the retreat every year," Sally said, changing the subject

  John nodded. "The ones who stay in the bed and breakfasts along Ambassador Crescent."

  Oh. Madeline had said that Sylvia had stayed in a room at the retreat itself. Well there went that idea.

  "Why do you ask?" John said.

  "Oh, there was a woman who was here two years ago and I was just wondering if you might have met her. But she stayed at the retreat so I doubt it."

  They were quiet then suddenly John asked. "Have you seen her?"

  "Who?" Sally was caught by surprise.

  "My daughter. I haven’t seen her in a long time."

  Sally and Elizabeth stared at each other. Oh, oh, Sally thought. Hadn’t he just said he had snuck out to get away from her?

  "Dad!"

  John winced and his shoulders slumped. "Oh, oh. There’s my daughter, the Warden."

  “Who?” Elizabeth asked.

  John sighed. “My daughter, Wendy.’

  His daughter hurried over to the table. "What are you doing here?"

  Sally wasn’t sure what to make of what was happening. John seemed afraid of Wendy and yet he had just wondered where she was. Was there something wrong with his mind?

  "Just having a coffee with these nice women," John said. "Would you join us?"

  "No, we’re going home."

  "But…"

  Wendy put her hand under his arm and pulled on him. He clambered to his feet. Wendy led him away without a word to Sally or Elizabeth.

  "Wow, what was that all about?" Elizabeth said.

  "I don’t know but I’ve seen her treat him like that before. He sure isn’t a happy man."

  "No, he doesn’t appear to be."

  They watched as Wendy led him over to a bench and made him sit down. Then she came back to their table. "Please stay away from my father," she said, putting some money on the table to pay for his coffee. "He’s an old man with the beginnings of dementia. The meds he’s on make him think that younger women are always falling in love with him. Then when he makes advances and finds out they don’t share his feelings he gets very angry at them and at me. It would be so much easier on me if you just left him alone. He said you were attending the retreat so you are only going to be here another few days."

  "That was strange," Sally said, as she watched Wendy walk over to John and help him up by his arm. "From ignoring us to politely asking us to leave him alone."

  Elizabeth shrugged. "Maybe she has to be firm with him and that doesn’t include bein
g nice to the women he meets."

  "Well, those meds could also explain why he was confused about where his daughter was." Sally became thoughtful. "You know, the first day I met him he seemed so nice, so easy going, so alert. Then the next time Wendy basically dragged him into the house when she saw us."

  "Us?"

  "Bonnie was with me."

  "Maybe his daughter was afraid you would find out about his money or that you wouldn’t be able to resist his advances and want to marry him."

  "Oh, very funny." Sally said

  "It has been known to happen.

  "I think his daughter is scared that everyone he meets will be after some of his lottery winnings. Maybe it’s not him she’d protecting as much as it is his money. So why did you ask if he had bought the lottery ticket here?"

  "I was told that someone had bought a winning ticket from a store here in town. I thought I might be able to talk with the winner and get an idea of what life is like after the win."

  "Judging by John and his daughter, for some people it might not be all that great."

  Chapter 17

  Both of them walked Chevy again then Elizabeth turned on the television to listen to the news while Sally had a bath. The news anchor was speaking about the body found in the demolished house in Whistler.

  "Our reporter, Les Hargrave, did an interview with yet another mother, Jessica Smallwood, who is in the resort town awaiting word about the identity of the young woman."

  The picture cut away to a hotel room where two people sat facing each other in chairs.

  Elizabeth sat down to listen.

  "I understand your daughter was pregnant and left home to give the baby up for adoption," Les Hargrave began. "Could you give our listeners an idea of what happened."

  "My daughter was seventeen when she got pregnant. She went to an abortion clinic but was told it was too late, she was too far along. She was then told by someone at the clinic that she could get money for her baby if she offered it for adoption."

  "And what was your response to this?"

  "Her father and I had already insisted on the abortion so we were definitely in favour of the adoption. She didn’t need a child to look after at that age and we figured she could use the money for her education."

  "And what happened?"

  "When she was almost due the nurse from the clinic came to the house and picked her up."

  “Did you know where she was going?”

  “No.”

  "Weren’t you the least bit afraid or concerned about her welfare?" Les Hargrave’s voice sounded shocked. "There are some pretty strange people out there."

  "She’d been assured by the nurse that she would been safe."

  "And that was what you went on?"

  "Plus, they gave her some money up front," Jessica said.

  "So where did they take her?"

  "They brought her here to Whistler. She spent the week before the birth and a few days afterwards at a place here."

  “Did you know that at the time?”

  “No, she told me when she returned home.”

  Elizabeth leaned forward in her seat. Was this what Cynthia had been talking about?

  “Did she meet the adoptive parents?”

  “No. The nurse was in the room with the doctor and when the baby was born she took him out of the room. My daughter never saw him.”

  “You say ‘him’. Does that mean the baby was a boy?”

  “Yes, she was told that much.”

  “How much was she paid for her child?”

  “She was paid three thousand dollars up front and five thousand dollars after the baby was born.”

  “So she sold her child for eight thousand dollars.”

  Jessica bristled at that statement. “She was giving him a better life.”

  "And what did she do with the money?"

  "Well, she went through it pretty fast, spending it on clothes and going out with friends."

  "She didn’t keep any for her education?"

  Jessica smiled. "She was a teenager who suddenly had a lot of money."

  “So she spent it on frivolous things?"

  "Not all were frivolous. She bought us a new wide screen television."

  "Well, that was nice of her."

  Jessica nodded. "She was a very kind daughter."

  "So if she showed up at home again, why are you here?"

  Jessica’s eyes teared and her voice became shaky. "Because she came back to Whistler to find her son and never returned home the second time."

  "Why did she want her son back?"

  "A year after she gave him up for adoption she inherited a large sum of money from my mother. She decided she had enough money to be a stay-at-home mom to her son."

  "But why the change of heart? She basically sold him and now she wanted him back because she had some money?"

  Elizabeth was surprised at how harsh some of the questions were. And yet the woman answered them.

  "I think she grew up a lot in that year and she realized that she had given up a part of her. She was thinking of trying to get him back even before the inheritance."

  "And how did you and your husband feel about losing a grandson?"

  "We knew it was best for her and for the baby."

  "And how did you feel about her looking for him?"

  "We tried to talk her out of it but she became adamant that she wanted him back because she could give him a better life than even his adoptive parents could."

  "Did she know who they were?"

  “No, but she came here hoping maybe someone else did, that maybe they were from here.”

  “Do you mind telling us your daughter’s name? Maybe someone will recognize it.”

  “Penny. Penny Elena Smallwood

  Elizabeth gasped. Penny was the name of the girl Cynthia had talked about. She wondered if Cynthia was watching the program.

  "So Penny came back to Whistler to find out something about her son. Do you know if she did?"

  "No, I never heard from her again."

  "Now this money that she inherited, does she have access to it?"

  "She received a lump sum at the time and is given an allowance every month. She will receive the bulk of it when she turns twenty-one."

  "Has she been using her allowance since you last saw her?"

  "No."

  "You reported Penny missing a month after she left, is that right?"

  "Yes, the police have been looking for her since then. They are the ones who contacted me to come here."

  "I guess the question is, did she make out a will before leaving?"

  "We’ve never looked for one but I doubt it. She was eighteen and something like that wasn’t a priority."

  "So if this body proves to be her, who will inherit the money?"

  Jessica shrugged. "Me, I guess."

  "What about her son?"

  "He would have to be found first."

  Elizabeth was surprised at the woman’s lack of emotion. Maybe she had cried all her tears out, or maybe she was clinging to the hope that it wasn’t her daughter and so wasn’t getting worked up about it.

  Sally came into the room wrapped in a housecoat and drying her hair. "Anything interesting on the news?"

  "Just something that proves my client was telling the truth," Elizabeth said and proceeded to tell her about the interview.

  "Are you going to talk with Cynthia?"

  "Yes, I was thinking about going over and seeing her."

  "Alone?" Sally raised her eyebrows.

  "It’s just across the street."

  "And Bonnie was killed just a few of blocks from here. Let me get some clothes on and I’ll go with you."

  Elizabeth felt a little stupid waiting for Sally but she knew it was the best thing to do. The killer could be lurking outside right now. It felt strange thinking that. She had never thought about a murderer as wanting to kill her. They always went after the other person. And she had never felt this threatened while working on the o
ther murders. She laughed nervously. Maybe she was getting paranoid. Maybe the killer was long gone with no thought about her or Sally.

  They left Chevy in the room and walked cautiously across the yard to the road. The bushes made a good hiding place. When they reached the street they looked both ways, then laughing at their fears, ran to the other side. Elizabeth knocked on Cynthia’s door.

  "Come in," Cynthia said, leading them into the living room. "I was just watching the news."

  "So you saw the interview with Penny’s mother?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Yes. The police were here earlier this evening asking me about Penny. Apparently, they now believe my story." She indicated for them to sit down.

  Elizabeth took a moment to introduce Sally then asked. “What did the police say?"

  "Jessica had been told about the body but couldn’t identify it the way it was. She gave her sample for DNA testing like everyone else then came here. When she told her story, the police here realized that it matched with mine so they came to find out what more I knew. Of course I had nothing new to add." Cynthia leaned forward conspiratorially. "I didn’t tell them that I had hired you. I know that the police don’t like private investigators working their territory."

  "Thank you," Elizabeth said, catching Sally’s smirk out of the corner of her eye. "It will save me a lot of hassle." Especially since the police had already warned her to stay away from Bonnie’s investigation.

  "I knew it." Cynthia sat back, a satisfied smile on her face. "So what are you going to do now?"

  The question caught Elizabeth off guard. She thought the fact that Penny’s mother was here would have been enough for Cynthia.

  "Well," Elizabeth started talking off the top of her head. "the police packed up their things in the yard and I didn’t see that they had found anything more. I will try to find Jessica and talk with her but I doubt that I can learn more than what she already stated. She doesn’t even know if it is Penny so I will still be talking with other family members to try and eliminate other possible girls."

  "How many other families have you talked with?"

  This was tricky. How to make it sound like she was working hard without really lying.

  "There are two couples staying at the bed and breakfast and one mother who is staying elsewhere. I’m not really privy to how many people are actually in Whistler, only the police would know that. I can only watch for those who come to see where the body was found."