A Despicable Mission (Olympia Brown Mysteries)

by Judith Campbell

  “Bullshit,” said his wife.

  “You might say that.”

  Jack swung himself on board and joined the two women.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “No different than when I left two hours ago, Mel. That’s the screwy part. I don’t feel any different. Maybe that’s a good thing. Ya think?”

  Melody half-smiled at her brother. “That’s the worst part of all of this is that people often don’t feel anything other than maybe a little tired, or they start losing weight. Usually that’s what sends them to the doctor.”

  “I guess it was both for me. But tomorrow we go back in, and I get the full report and the schedule for what happens next.”

  He was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. Janney had dropped her drink and was looking confused.

  Melody jumped up and grabbed a towel, and Janney threw up her hands. She looked both embarrassed and defeated. “Just shows what happens when I don’t drink. Guess I’m not used to it. Maybe I’ll have something when the holy orders arrive. On the other hand, maybe I won’t.”

  “I’m not counting,” said her husband.

  ~

  As Olympia pulled up and parked in front of her cottage, she saw William Bateson coming out of Dory’s house. When he caught sight of her he waved and rushed over to open her door and help her up onto the sidewalk.

  “I was just looking for Dory; do you know where she is?”

  “I’m not sure, William. Earlier this afternoon she was here with the insurance adjuster, and then she and her daughter Jessica both left with Julia Scott-Norton.”

  “They didn’t say where they were going, did they? I need to ask Mrs. West something about the house.”

  Olympia sidestepped William and the question and opened the passenger door.

  “William Bateson, meet Father Jim Sawicki, my best friend. He’s a colleague of mine from another life.”

  Bateson held out his hand, and Jim shook it.

  “To answer your question, when they left I heard mention of dinner at a restaurant somewhere, but I have no idea which one or what was on the schedule after that.”

  “Is she still staying with Julia?”

  “Her daughter arrived this morning.”

  “Where is Dory staying, Reverend?”

  “As far as I know, she’s still with Julia. Maybe if you called over there.”

  “Well, if you see either of them before I do, would you tell her that I’ve got some numbers for Mrs. West?”

  “I’d be happy to, but if you’ll excuse us, Jim’s been traveling most of the day, and he needs to freshen up.”

  William stepped back and inclined his head. “Of course. Nice meeting you, Jim. I hope our paths will cross again when we’ve got more time. I love to hear news from the outside world.”

  “Oh, it can’t be that bad down here,” said Jim, looking around.

  “Yes, it is,” said Olympia and William Bateson simultaneously.

  The first words out of Jim’s mouth when he was behind a closed door were, “I don’t like that guy.”

  “He’s one of the reasons I asked you to come down here.”

  “One of the reasons, you mean there are more?”

  “How long have you got?”

  “I hate it when you say that. It always means you are up to your neck in alligators, and you’ve forgotten how to drain the swamp … again.”

  “Let’s just say he’s just one of the alligators. Look, I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure that you need a rest. We can talk when we get back tonight. The shoebox just off the kitchen is yours. I measured it. The room is eight by six, exactly enough room for a single bed. There are some pegs on the wall beside the door for your clothes and a towel. It does, however, have a window that opens, and the cats don’t go in there.”

  Jim didn’t need a second invitation, and within a few minutes Olympia learned that Jim snored. Sounds just like one of the cats purring, she thought and then smiled. Her friend was there. Whatever was going on and whatever might happen next didn’t feel so threatening now. Olympia scooped up Thunderfoot, the larger and younger of the two cats, and sat down in her chair. Soon they too were … purring.

  When Jim surfaced, he had a quick shower, and the two of them made ready for a social evening aboard the Janney-Lee. On the drive to Oak Bluffs Harbor, Olympia pointed out spots of interest and promised Jim a walking tour of the famous campground along with an ice cream cone as big as his head.

  “Is this a bribe?” he asked, trying to look in all directions at once.

  “Not at all, Jim. This place really is beautiful, charming and unlike anything else you’ll ever experience. I want to share it with you.”

  “And you like ice cream.”

  “You know me too well, my friend, but it really is like walking around inside a storybook.”

  “With some very dark chapters.”

  “That’s why I asked you to come down. Oh, look, we’re here, and would you believe it, there’s even a parking spot. There is a God somewhere, and tonight she’s on my side.”

  Jim crossed himself and groaned.

  Later that evening when they were back in Olympia’s cottage and they could speak freely, she filled him in on the series of troubling events thus far and the attendant unanswered questions surrounding them. Even she had to admit that in just over a week of her being on the island, it was quite a list.

  Jim looked at his best friend and shook his head. “What is it with you? Are you some kind of trouble magnet? Every time I turn around, you’re tangled up in something that needs more than passing attention, and then you call me to bail you out.”

  Olympia leaned back in her chair and held up her hands, palms out in the not-me position. “The only person I’m really concerned about in all of this is Dory, and quite frankly, it’s the only situation I might be able to do something about. Jack Winters and family need pastoral support. That’s clear, and I can do it. But Dory may or may not be the target of a person or persons intending to con her out of her property. That’s where I may be in over my head.”

  “So what can I do?”

  “I’m not sure yet, Jim. Once I get wind of something, the first stage of my amateur investigations involves collecting information, which I’m still doing. The next step is talking it over with you—and Frederick, when he’s around.”

  “So where is your hopeful, helpful Englishman? I was hoping he’d be here.”

  “Back in Brookfield, tending hearth and garden. He was here over the weekend.”

  “And you didn’t talk it over with him?”

  “There wasn’t really anything to say. It’s only recently turned suspicious, and even now it still could all be circumstantial, and I’m the one that’s blowing it out of proportion.”

  Jim leaned back on the sofa. “Start at the beginning, Olympia.”

  And that’s exactly what she did. It was well after midnight when she finished, and the two were slit-eyed and yawning. The cats had already gone to bed.

  “Let me sleep on all of this, Olympia. What’s on for tomorrow?”

  “That’s part two of the developing drama.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “An elderly parishioner died in an accidental fall just before I got here. Unfortunately, I’m finding some unpleasant parallels to that situation and what’s going on right now with Mrs. West. Tomorrow morning, the woman’s son, Dan Parker, is taking me to her house so I can see where it happened.”

  “Has he any idea of what you’re thinking?”

  “Let’s just say we both have some unanswered questions. I didn’t want to say too much to him at this stage, but there’s a real estate-slash-legal issue in this one, as well.”

  “Good thinking. Want me to come along?”

  “Thanks, Jim, and no thanks, but trust me. If I think a second visit or a clerical consultation is in order, you’ll be the first to know. Meanwhile, the Rev. Doc prescribes a lazy morning, maybe
a gentle walk along the water and some serious cat-patting. I won’t be gone long.”

  Twenty-Two

  Outside the front of the church Dan Parker eased up on the clutch of the faded maroon Mercedes and slipped into the crawl of summer traffic inching along Main Street.

  “You can roll down the window if you’re too hot. This car was made before air conditioning was standard equipment. It’s my island car—old, ugly and dependable.”

  Olympia cranked open the window as instructed and let the humid sea breeze do its worst on her already limp, gray-streaked hair. She’d given up on high maintenance hair years ago and made do with a wash and wear style that she cut herself. As she pushed a vagrant strand out of her eyes, she remembered her sons when they were in grade school, begging her to go to a salon and have a real haircut and think of having it frosted or streaked so maybe she wouldn’t look so much like, well, somebody’s mother. Olympia smiled at the memory and then brought herself back to the present.

  “I never thought to ask, but does your ex-wife have any thoughts about all of this? Are you still in contact with her?”

  “We’ve been divorced for years. I don’t even know where she’s living right now. My mother never liked her.”

  “I’m sorry. I either shouldn’t have asked or asked more delicately.”

  “Believe me, it’s not an issue. It was a long time ago, but I might as well finish the picture. I think I mentioned that I have grown kids, a son and a daughter, both living on their own. I get along pretty well with them, but they’ve got their lives, and I’ve got mine.”

  “You never married again?”

  “Never saw the need. I don’t know, maybe someday.” Dan shrugged his shoulders and stared at the road ahead.

  Time to change the subject!

  “Ummm, how long do you think this humidity going to last?”

  “Thanksgiving?”

  Olympia made a face, then pulled a wadded piece of paper towel out of her pocket and wiped her forehead. “Certainly drains the energy.”

  The two continued to make small talk about the weather, the state of the world economy, the influx of Brazilian workers over the summer and how cruelly they could be exploited, and nothing about the circumstances of his mother’s death. When they arrived at the up-island home of the late Mary Elgin Parker, a sun-bleached, grey-shingled sprawl of indeterminate age, Dan sighed and started up the bumpy dirt road to the front door. The house was set well back from the street and surrounded by acres of rolling grassy hills, sparse scraggy oaks, and all of it demarked by irregular stone walls. It was breathtaking. Olympia could easily see why no one in his or her right mind would ever want to part with it—and why someone else might find it so very desirable. But to what ends would a person go to get it?

  When they were inside Dan opened a few windows, got them each a glass of cold water, and directed Olympia to the chair with the best view of the distant silver sea.

  Olympia sat and took a grateful sip of the water. With the windows open it was much cooler than down-island in Vineyard Haven.

  “This is too lovely for words, Dan. I can see why it is so important that you keep it in the family, but that’s not the point, is it? We want to know who or what made your mother change her mind. Tell me, have you learned anything more about the supposed sale?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not supposed, it’s a fact. I’m going to fight it, of course, but it’s hard to get the energy with her so recently and suddenly gone. None of it makes any sense. This is so unlike her.”

  “Dan, can I ask you a few questions about all of this?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

  Olympia shifted in her chair. “Let me get right to the point. I think there might be something suspicious going on. Your mother, a healthy, active woman in her early eighties, used to going up and down stairs, dies in an accidental fall.”

  “She’d still be playing tennis if I hadn’t taken away her racket.” Dan managed a weak smile, cleared his throat and wiped a speck of dust out of the corner of his eye. “Before she had … the accident, unbeknownst to anyone in the family, she put the house and land into some kind of permanent trust with a lifetime tenancy. She was vague about the details, and I was too busy at the time to come running up here and check.

  “Actually, now that I think about it, back around Christmas time she mentioned something about the house and a long term plan to keep it in the family. She said she had a new financial advisor who had recommended it. I think she said it was someone who gave a talk at one of the senior centers here on the island. As she understood it, she would have lifetime tenancy, and when she passed, the house would always be safe for the descendents. No one could ever get it out of the trust.”

  “So what did you say to her?”

  “I told her not to do anything until I had a chance to talk to this person myself.”

  “And?”

  “And I never got around to it. She didn’t bring it up again, and I’m so busy with my business and my own life that I, well, I just didn’t.”

  “Did your mother tell you the person’s name?”

  “No, but now that I think about it, she referred the advisor as ‘her.’ It was a woman. Of course, I don’t have a name. I suppose it will be somewhere in her papers, but I looked in her desk, and I can’t find them. That’s another mystery, but I’ll admit that I didn’t look too carefully. Maybe she hid them or something, and that’s not like her either. I just don’t know what to think.”

  Olympia set her glass on a coaster on the coffee table. “Dan, hearing this, I‘m even more convinced something very wrong is going on here. Can we go look at the place where she fell?”

  “I guess I’ve been putting it off, but what are you talking about?”

  “Remember yesterday when I asked that our conversations be held in confidence? Well, I’m underlining that now, OK?”

  He nodded.

  “I have reason to believe that something similar is happening with another member of the church. I’m not going to say who or exactly what right now, but there is another older lady with a valuable piece of property who I think may have been given a similar offer. She’s also had an accident that is totally out of character for her. This one didn’t kill her, but it wrecked the house. And the pencil on the staircase that I slipped on could have been dropped by accident or deliberately left there, but either way it could have resulted in a serious fall.”

  “Did you say you found a pencil on the stairs in that other house?” Dan was on full alert. “We found a screwdriver on the floor beside her body. Since there was no sign of any kind of struggle, the medical examiner figured she might have stepped on it and lost her footing. Her bruises were consistent with a fall. There was no other sign of foul play, but none of it makes sense. My mother doesn’t use a screwdriver. She has a handy man that does odd jobs for her, that is, did her odd jobs.”

  “Do you know if he was there any time near the accident?”

  “He was the first person I called. He hasn’t been near the place since before Easter.”

  “Show me where she fell, Dan, and do you by any chance have the screwdriver?”

  “It should be still there. I couldn’t bring myself to touch it.”

  Dan opened the cellar door, turned on the light and led Olympia down the stairs. She could see an irregular red-brown stain on the cement floor, but she said nothing.

  “This is where they found her.” Dan dropped down onto the bottom step and covered his face with his hands. Olympia put a gentle hand on his shoulder and waited in silent witness to the man’s grief.

  “I’m so very sorry, Dan. This has to be awful.”

  He took out a handkerchief, blew his nose, and looked up at Olympia. “I swear to God, Olympia, if some son of a bitch killed my mother, I’m going to see him hang.”

  Or see her hang, thought Olympia. The mention of a woman in all of this changed and complicated the picture considerably, but it was not the time to men
tion that to the man sitting at her feet.

  “Dan, you said that there was a screwdriver down here when they found your mother. Did you pick it up?”

  “Actually, I remember seeing it and then kicking it across the room.”

  “Where did you kick it?”

  “Just over th …” He pointed in the direction of the washer and dryer and froze. “It’s not there.”

  “Think now, Dan. You didn’t pick it up or throw it out? You were very upset.”

  “No. I remember looking back at it as I went up the stairs after they took her away. I remember wanting to burn it or do something to damage it, but I left it there on the floor. I couldn’t touch it.”

  “And it’s not there now?”

  “It’s gone, Olympia.”

  On the way back to the church, Olympia told Dan everything that she knew about what was happening next door and everything she suspected, carefully mentioning only Dory’s name and not that of William Bateson or any other members of the church who were involved. The flood at Dory’s house had already been reported in both island newspapers, so she wasn’t saying anything that was not already public knowledge. But the fact that someone had suggested that Dory put the house in trust with a lifetime tenancy was an unpleasant parallel that needed further investigation. Before she got out of the car, she reminded Dan of the need for confidentiality and asked if he would please contact her after he talked with his lawyer and let her know what he learned.

  The thought of a woman involved in all of this was troubling Olympia. She didn’t usually think of women as villains. Women were supposed to be the nurturers and the healers, not the destroyers; but that was stereotypical thinking, and she was unpleasantly surprised to catch herself doing it. Up until then, if there was something unhealthy going on, everything thus far pointed to William Bateson. So where was the truth? Dan’s mother suffered a cruel accident, and there seemed be some similarities between that situation and what was happening with Dory West right now. Are they connected? And how the hell am I going to find out?