“Good point. I’ll be more careful.”
“I’d appreciate it. If I let you get hurt, the entire Burnette family would come after me.”
“Then the Nortons would come after them… .”
“And we’d end up with a feud that would make the Hatfields and the McCoys look like best buddies.”
I shuddered at the thought. “Anyway, even if Tim wasn’t the killer, he could have provided a motive.”
“How’s that?”
“What if Tim’s wrong, and David and Jake do know he’s their half-brother? They might not want anybody else to find out.” Though I’d never seen signs of either brother being particularly racist, it might not show when they were dealing with another white person. “Having a moonshiner in the family could be romantic, but having a black, illegitimate half-brother is something else. I know it’s better in Byerly than it used to be, but racial stuff goes pretty deep.”
“Especially with somebody like Florence Easterly in the family,” Junior said. “She could have done it to keep her name unbesmirched.”
“Or if David knew and she didn’t, he could have done it to keep her from finding out. Jake might have done it because he was ashamed.”
“Or either David or Jake could have done the math and realized that Seth cheated on their mama while she was dying of cancer.”
“Right! Though the timing seems funny. Do we still agree that the killing looks unpremeditated?”
“We could be wrong about that, but I’ve got a hunch—”
“Say no more. I’m not arguing with one of your hunches. So if the killing wasn’t premeditated, that implies that Seth had just told either David or Jake about Tim, and whichever brother it was reacted immediately by killing him.” I shook my head. “I don’t think that works.”
“Go back to the scandal, then,” Junior said.
“If they were trying to avoid scandal, killing Seth was the absolute wrong thing to do. There’s nothing like a murder to get tongues wagging and people prying into secrets.”
Junior nodded. “It would have made more sense to kill Tim than Seth. Considering how long Seth had kept the secret, I don’t think he’d have come forward if Tim were dead.”
“And there’s no way to guarantee that Tim won’t come forward now,” I added. “Though with both Tim’s mother and Seth gone, he couldn’t prove it.”
“Sure he could. DNA testing. They could exhume Seth’s body, or even just compare Tim’s DNA to Jake’s or David’s, the way they compared samples from Sally Hemmings’ descendants to Thomas Jefferson’s to find out they’re related.”
“Wouldn’t they have to get permission?”
“That’s right. If any of the Murdstones killed to avoid a scandal, they sure as heck wouldn’t allow it.”
Remembering something Tim had mentioned, I said, “What about the money? Tim said he didn’t want Jake and David to think he was after Seth’s inheritance. Maybe they didn’t want him to get it, either. Jake said he and David are splitting everything, and half is a whole lot more than a third. Florence could be involved, too, because she’ll have access to David’s share.” Then I had to add, “Of course, it doesn’t sound as if Seth had a whole lot.”
“We could find out. The will’s probably gone into probate.”
“This soon?”
“Florence is a lawyer,” Junior reminded me. “With Jake living in the house, they’d want to get the title clear as quickly as possible.”
“That makes sense. Though you realize that the will might not tell the whole story. I bet it doesn’t include the money Seth made from moonshining.”
“You may be right. Most moonshiners only deal in cash, and then hide it in a jar or under a mattress. Daddy and I have both taken peeks at Seth’s finances, and we never saw anything that wasn’t accounted for legitimately. Which is probably why he kept the furniture business going—to cover his tracks.”
“So there might be a lot of money involved after all.”
“Of course,” Junior said, “all this hinges on whether or not Jake or David or Florence knows about Tim, which we have no way of knowing other than asking them.”
“We can’t do that without breaking my promise to Tim, and they wouldn’t necessarily tell us the truth anyway.” I thought some more. “Even if they didn’t know about Tim, one of them might have been after the money. In fact, I feel like an idiot for not thinking about Seth’s money before now. Isn’t ‘Who benefits?’ one of the classic questions a real investigator asks?”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Laurie Anne. I thought about the money even before I asked you to help.”
“You don’t think Seth’s ill-gotten gains are involved?”
“Not really. When people kill for money, it’s usually from greed or desperation. If either of the Murdstone brothers were that greedy, they’d have left Byerly years ago. There are a whole lot better places to make a living. I don’t think either of them is desperate, either. Jake gets the house and the business, but he already lived in the house and made a decent living off the business, so he’s not gained that much. David gets the insurance money, but from looking at his house, he’s not exactly short on cash. And if either of them are in debt, I’ve never heard anything about it.”
“What about Jake’s son? The hospital bills must have been high.”
“They were pretty steep, but Jake had insurance to cover part of it and the community has been helping with the rest. That’s why we’re doing this play, remember?”
“I almost forgot,” I admitted.
“Anyway, I don’t think money was the issue, but it’s not a hunch, so you can argue with it if you want to.”
“No thanks. What you said makes too much sense.” I thought for a minute. “One other thing. Why did Seth pick now to tell Tim the truth?”
“Maybe because he was handy, what with the two of them working together. Does it matter?”
“It might. David said Seth had been diagnosed with a bad heart, and we know he was thinking about retiring. Those two combined could make a man start thinking about coming to the end of his life.”
“Which he did,” Junior said, “though a bit sooner than he expected.”
“It reminds me of Richard’s Uncle Claude. When he found out he had cancer, he started cleaning up all kinds of loose ends. He wrote his will, and gave away all the stuff he said he wouldn’t need anymore, and made up with people he’d been feuding with. He wanted to die with a clear conscience.”
“That must have been comforting at the end.”
“Actually, he didn’t die. The chemotherapy worked, and he’s healthier than ever. The point is that maybe Seth was trying to clean up unfinished business. That’s why he told Tim.”
“I still don’t know why it matters.”
“What if he confessed to others, too? Maybe he finally told Mrs. Gamp that he’s the one who caused her husband’s death.”
“Meaning that she has a motive after all?” she said.
“Right. I couldn’t see her holding a grudge against Seth all these years, but if she’d just found out, that’s another story. The timing would have been tight, but I think she had enough time to kill him. Remember how bad off she was when we got to her? Maybe that’s when she realized what she’d done.”
“Or maybe she’d just found an ex-lover dead. That would throw most people for a loop.”
“So would killing somebody. It seems to me that a grown woman with an imaginary friend might not be the most stable person in the world.”
“I don’t know, Laurie Anne. She’s never shown any sign of violence. Being eccentric doesn’t make somebody a killer.”
“But—”
“Do you want examples from your own family?”
“Never mind,” I said. “I get your point. But I still think we should keep Mrs. Gamp on the list.”
“Fair enough, but I sure as heck wish we could take somebody off of that list.”
Right then, Richard announced that he was shutting dow
n rehearsal so that people could get home in time to dress for Seth’s visitation.
“Are you going, Junior?”
She shook her head. “Mama invited some of her cousins over for dinner. You?”
“I imagine so. Richard said he thought he should go.”
“Then keep your eyes and ears open. Not that I’ve ever known a killer to break down and confess at one of these things, but you never know.” She left to gather up her nieces and nephews, and I went to find Richard.
Chapter 26
“Do these shoes look ridiculous?” I asked Richard as he helped me out of the car. I’d quit wearing high heels after having my feet swell during an early holiday party, and even my flats weren’t comfortable anymore, so the only shoes I’d brought to Byerly were sneakers. I just didn’t feel properly dressed.
“Don’t worry,” Richard said. “You look fine, and anybody should be able to figure out why a pregnant woman isn’t in stilettos.”
“I guess,” I said doubtfully. At least the outfit I’d borrowed from Vasti was suitable. I’d been trying not to spend a lot of money on maternity clothes and didn’t have anything appropriate with me, but my cousin had an entire wardrobe of maternity dresses, including the navy blue one I was wearing.
The sign inside the funeral home directed us to the Magnolia Room. “Florence must have set this up,” I told Richard. “That’s the nicest room in town. I’ve heard that deathly ill society types will hang on for just another week to make sure they get it.”
“You’re making this up.”
“I am not,” I insisted. “Byerly’s Junior League set takes these things just as seriously as the Boston Brahmins would.”
“If you say so.”
Thinking about the rules of society led me to think about Florence marrying David Murdstone. As crazy as it sounded to me, women were frequently judged on their husband’s lineage and bankbook. Of course, Florence was an Easterly, and the Easterlys were thoroughly entrenched in local society. So I didn’t think anybody would dare snub Florence, especially not with David being so well dressed and such a successful businessman. But what if they found out what Seth had done for a living?
Admittedly, I’d considered bootleggers romantic figures, at least until I found out about Seth and Clara Todger, but the Junior League members might not have those same fantasies. I was willing to bet that they wouldn’t accept a real, live bootlegger in their midst. Easterly or not, Florence would have been cut dead. The question was, would she have minded? She said she didn’t care what people thought, but then again, she’d booked the Magnolia Room.
I was relieved to see that the Murdstones had opted for a closed casket. Though I can certainly understand wanting to see a loved one one last time, I’ve never felt comfortable making small talk with that loved one’s face in sight. To me, the casket covered with flowers was more than enough of a reminder of why we were there.
David, Florence, and Jake were receiving people as they entered, and Richard and I joined the line to greet them. After Junior’s and my earlier conversation with Florence and David, I felt a little awkward, so I relied on the standby line my mother had taught me. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Laurie Anne,” David said. “I appreciate your coming, and everything you’re trying to do for us.” To Richard, he said, “My father was so pleased to have a part in the play, and he’d be glad you were here.”
Though David was holding up well, Jake looked terrible. His clothes were fine, probably thanks to David or Florence, but his hair was a mess and his hand must have been shaking like a leaf when he shaved to have left so many nicks.
“I’m sorry about your father,” I said helplessly. Jake just nodded and swallowed hard.
Florence gave me a quick hug and, with a tiny grin, said, “Sorry we didn’t see you out properly this afternoon.”
“That’s all right. I was a newlywed once myself.”
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she said. “Now don’t stay on your feet too long. There are some comfortable chairs right over there.”
Richard and I moved on to let the next group of people come through. I imagine that a real investigator wouldn’t have hesitated to hang around the receiving line to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t do it. Especially not with swelling feet. Instead, I found the chairs Florence had pointed out and took advantage of them.
“Are you feeling all right?” Richard said. “Do you want anything?”
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to calculate how many more times I’d have to tell him that before the baby was born.
I saw Tim Topper going through the receiving line and wondered what he was feeling. He’d just found his father, and even though he’d had no reason to like him, surely the man’s death had meant something to him. He shook hands with his two half-brothers just as Richard had, when by rights he should have been receiving guests with them.
Big Bill Walters came through the line next, dressed elegantly in a black pinstripe suit. He was widely known as a tough businessman, but I honestly couldn’t imagine him killing Seth over a piece of land. Which was a relief, considering his obvious feelings for Aunt Maggie.
“Laura,” Richard said, “do you mind if I go see Big Bill? I’ve got an idea for the last act I’d like to discuss with him.”
“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll keep on people-watching.”
He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and joined Big Bill just as he made it through the receiving line.
It was actually an interesting group of folks to watch. There were some rough types who looked as if they didn’t come to town often, and I suspected that some of them were Seth’s moonshining colleagues. Then there were society types, paying their respects to Florence. Or maybe, I thought cynically, scoping out the family she’d married into. And naturally, there were quite a few people from the play.
I hadn’t been by myself long when Oliver Jarndyce came over.
“Hey there, Oliver,” I said.
“How’re you doing?” he asked.
“I’m doing all right. I think it’s nice that so many of us from the play came. Or did you know Seth before then?” It wasn’t the smoothest opening gambit, but since conversation at a visitation is always awkward, I figured Oliver wouldn’t notice.
“I didn’t know Seth well,” he said, “but I had done some business with him. At least, I tried to.”
“Is that right?”
“He and I went to see some land late last summer, but he decided it wasn’t what he was looking for.”
“Maybe he was thinking about moving,” I said idly, “since Big Bill wanted to buy his property.”
“Big Bill Walters is in the market?” Oliver said eagerly, his ears all but pricking up.
“I don’t know that for sure,” I said, not wanting to steer him the wrong way. “It’s just something I heard.”
“Still, it won’t hurt to inquire. Now that I think about it, Jake will almost certainly want to move now. That house is far too big for just one man, especially considering the tragedy that happened there.” He looked over at where the Murdstones were still greeting people, and straightened his tie. “If you’ll excuse me, Laurie Anne, I should pay my respects to the family.”
“Of course,” I said. There’s nothing quite so determined as a real estate agent who smells a commission, even if it did mean talking business at a visitation.
Then again, there were those for whom a visitation was business. Pete Fredericks wafted toward me, carrying a tray with a glass of ice water.
“Mrs. Murdstone was concerned that you might be overexerting yourself,” he said, “and asked me to bring this to you.”
“Thanks, Pete,” I said, taking it from him. “Thank Florence for me, too.” I lifted it to my lips and then hesitated ever so slightly. After all, Pete was still a murder suspect, and I didn’t know for sure that Florence had asked him to bring me anything. Then I went ahead and sipped. It tasted fine, of course. Pete would have had to be a f
ool to try anything in public, in his own place of business. Besides, I didn’t even have a motive for him. Not yet, anyway.
I said, “You’ve done an excellent job pulling this all together so quickly.”
He nodded in acknowledgment and said, “Our services are usually performed expeditiously. Even with advanced planning, there are always last-minute details to attend to.”
“I suppose so.” He looked as if he was about to leave, so I quickly added, “Does it ever bother you, working with a client you know?”
Pete smiled as if he’d heard the question before. “In simpler times, the women of a family would prepare the departed for his final farewell. They saw it as their duty to tend to the remains with care and respect, all the more so because they’d known the person. I regard my work the same way.”
I’d always thought of a mortician’s job as fairly grisly, but Pete made it sound like a noble calling. Thinking of how hard it must be to deal constantly with bereaved families, I was glad there were some compensations for the job. “Were you and Seth good friends?” I asked.
“No, we only met in connection with the play, but I knew of him through David, who I met through the chamber of commerce. Since I left the mill, I’ve lost touch with many of my old friends and have had difficulty cultivating new ones. You may not realize this, but many people are reluctant to socialize with a man in my line of work.”
“Is that right?” I said, trying to sound shocked even though I’d have been just as reluctant as anybody else.
“It’s ironic, actually,” he said. “David encouraged me to talk to Vasti about a part in the play because he thought it might help if people saw me in another aspect than as a funeral director. My assisting with Mr. Murdstone’s final arrangements has only reminded the community of what it is I do.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I said sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Pete. People will figure it out eventually. Maybe you can try out for another play.” Though if he really wanted to change people’s assumptions about him, he might do better than playing Jacob Marley’s ghost and the spectral Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come.
Toni L.P. Kelner - Laura Fleming 07 - Mad as the Dickens Page 18
