Dead Past dffi-4

by Beverly Connor

Frank took the book and turned to page fifteen. Diane watched him reading the entire page. While Jin and David were explaining to Neva how some women are just unapproachable, Frank took the book to the computer. From her vantage point it looked like he was trying out a couple of words-with no success. Then she saw the familiar twinkle in his eye. She watched for a moment before she spoke up.

  “You have it, don’t you?” she said.

  The others looked at her, then Frank.

  “What?” said Jin. “When we weren’t looking?”

  He jumped up and started to go over to the computer for a look, but Frank was already printing something out. He brought it to the table.

  “What was the word?” asked Diane.

  “Roman,” said Frank.

  “Roman? How did you come up with that?” said Jin. He took the book and looked at the page.

  “It was actually the simplest part of the cipher. The sentence has nine words. I went nine lines down from the key sentence and nine words over. The word was Roman, so I gave it a try and… here we are.

  With a flourish he tossed the printout on the table. It spun around and slid almost off before Jin caught it. He read it out loud.

  The private family cemetery of James Vann Llewellyn in the city of Glendale-Marsh Florida Three feet under the headstone of Leander Llewellyn A cheer went up from all of them and Jin patted Frank on the back.

  “It’s real, then?” said Neva.

  “The message is decipherable,” said Frank. “Whether or not there is a buried treasure there is anyone’s guess.”

  “Now what?” said Jin. “We go look for the treasure?”

  “No,” said Diane. “The treasure isn’t our concern. We need to find the murderers. Jin, you call the authorities in-where did the Sebestyens live?”

  “Indiana,” said Jin.

  “Call them and see if they’ll share information. I’m sure they’d like some new leads. I’m going to call Ruby Torkel and hope that she’s in the nice hotel room I put her in.”

  Frank caught her hand as she was about to get up. “Why don’t you go home for a while? Get some rest. Call her from there.”

  “Why don’t you?” said Neva. “We can handle things here. I know it’s hard to tell sometimes by our intelligent conversation, but we’re really pretty reliable and on top of things.”

  Diane smiled. She was feeling tired. She supposed she could call Mrs. Torkel from her house just as easily as she could from her office.

  “OK. But let me know if anything develops,” she said.

  “Of course,” agreed Neva and David together.

  Diane called Andie and told her that she was going home for a while and that, since Kendel was also at home, Andie was in charge of the museum.

  “Great,” said Andie. “I’ve got some really cool things I want to order for the Dino room.”

  Diane smiled as she hung up. “OK, I’m gone.”

  Frank drove her home. He pulled in just behind her car with its new paint job-her mechanic had delivered it while she was gone. She gave it a brush with her hand as she passed. Nice.

  On the way into her building she ran into her landlady. She was a kind and good-natured woman, but Diane hated running into her. She loved to talk.

  “Did you hear what happened to poor Dr. Shawn Keith?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “The police arrested him. Can you beat that? A nice man like Dr. Keith-so good to the ducks in the park. I help him feed them, you know. The police wouldn’t tell me why, but I can’t imagine what a man like that would do to get arrested. I don’t know where I’m going to find another tenant like him; he always paid on time, he was never noisy, and he didn’t smoke. You know, a lot of people say they don’t smoke when I tell them it’s a nonsmoking building, but then they try to sneak and smoke with the window open, but I can always tell-the smell you know, it permeates everything, and that poor Marvin Odell, he hates cigarette smoke and he always complains if he thinks someone is smoking. Between you and me, I don’t know why he can’t be arrested, but they are good tenants, too; they always pay on time and they don’t smoke, though Veda Odell burned a turkey one time and we had smoke all over the place; that was before you got here… ”

  Diane was wondering if the woman ever took a breath. She started to tell her she had to go in. Frank grasped her arm and started moving her toward the staircase.

  “Of course, some guests think they can smoke, and I have to tell them they can’t. I don’t like to, but I do… like that policeman who came to see you today, he was smoking and I told him he had to stop or go someplace else. I’m sorry, but I can’t have…”

  Diane put a hand on her arm. “Who came to see me today?”

  “A policeman. I didn’t think they were allowed to smoke on duty… ”

  “Did he give a name?” asked Diane.

  “No. He just said he wanted to see you. He waited for a while; then he left when I told him he couldn’t smoke. I don’t know why he didn’t go to the museum; everyone knows that’s where you are in the day… ”

  “Can you describe the policeman?”

  Interspersed with more monologue about how smoke permeates the draperies, carpets, and upholstery, and how the policeman smelled of cigarette smoke, the description she gave Diane of a middle-aged police officer in uniform fit Archie Donahue perfectly, down to his bloodhound face.

  “Thank you. I believe I know who it was. I need to go up to my apartment now and give him a call to find out what he wanted.”

  Archie, she thought. He came to see me. Why? Diane started up the stairs. Frank followed.

  “It’s just awful the things that go on,” said her landlady. “I just don’t know what the world is coming to. That business with the explosion and the fire and all those poor students, and now that councilman’s gone missing… Of course he wasn’t no good no way.”

  Chapter 51

  Diane stopped on the staircase and turned back to look at her landlady-the kindly elderly lady who wore her gray hair in a bun, dressed in running clothes, and who made sure that no one smoked in her building. She was smiling up at them.

  “What councilman?” said Diane.

  “That moron Adler. He’s gone missing. It was on the news. I hope he’s gone far from here.” She turned around and went back into her apartment.

  Diane and Frank exchanged glances and walked the rest of the way to her apartment. Inside, Frank told Diane to get comfortable on the couch and he would heat her some soup. Warm soup sounded good. Soup was about all she felt like eating. She curled up on the couch, pulled a zebra throw that Star had given her for Christmas over her lap, and reached for the phone. She dialed Garnett’s cell.

  Several rings went by and she thought it was going to roll over to voice mail when Garnett picked up.

  “I know you’re busy, but my landlady just told me a policeman was here to see me. From her description, there’s little doubt it was Archie Donahue,” she said.

  “Archie was there? When?”

  “This morning. He must have known I was in the hospital last night and thought I would come straight home, but I went from the hospital to the museum.”

  “I could have told him that,” commented Garnett. “How are you feeling?”

  “A little sore in the back of the head.”

  “I’m sorry not to have sent a detective over to interview you at the hospital, but… we’re stretched a little thin here-ironic for Councilman Adler at the moment, considering his cutbacks in the department’s budget.”

  “The landlady told me the news about Adler. You think Archie is connected with his disappearance?”

  “I don’t know, but if you see anything of Archie, call me,” said Garnett.

  “I will. My landlady said you arrested Shawn Keith. Is that true?”

  “We took him in for questioning and he became a regular magpie. Couldn’t shut him up if we wanted to. Obviously eager to get everything off his chest. He was helping the Stanton kid steal from the university library’s r
are book room. Did find out something interesting. That night, when the kid tried to jack your car, he was having an argument with Keith. Keith thought he was high-didn’t realize he was hurt. Keith was trying to get himself and his mother out of the blast area and he saw you behind him. He told the kid you had found out he was stealing from the museum and you were going to turn him in. That’s why Blake came to your car. I don’t like to think about what he might have done if you had driven off with him in the car.”

  “That wouldn’t have happened. I know better than to go to a second location with someone holding a gun,” said Diane.

  When she got off the phone, Frank came from the kitchen with chicken noodle soup and crackers.

  “Your landlady’s a talker, isn’t she?” said Frank.

  “She is. She doesn’t even stop for periods. But she is observant. The policeman she described had to be Archie Donahue. I wonder why he came to see me.”

  “Forget about that whole business for a while. Eat your soup before it gets cold,” said Frank.

  “Did you fix yourself something?” she said.

  “I did. I’m heating leftover pizza,” he said, disappearing back into the kitchen.

  The hot soup felt good going down. There is something about chicken noodle soup that is soothing-good comfort food. It made her relax.

  Diane was surprised to hear what a rat Dr. Keith was. No wonder he was feeling so guilty when he approached her the other day. He should have been feeling guilty. The little pissant Blake Stanton could have had it in his mind to shoot her.

  Frank came out with his pizza and Coke-the foundation of the food pyramid as far as he was concerned-and as they ate, she told him about Dr. Keith and his connection to Blake Stanton.

  “Keith, your neighbor? The one who feeds the ducks?” said Frank.

  “That’s the one. You never know how people really are. Unless you told me, I’d have never guessed you know how to play the accordion.”

  “I know, and who would ever guess that you enjoy hanging over bottomless pits on the end of a rope?” said Frank.

  They talked about Star and her grades. So far, she was making good enough grades to earn her trip to Paris.

  “She’s even doing pretty well in math,” said Frank. He was very proud, since that was his best subject.

  Star’s good grades were a relief. Diane finished eating and put her empty soup bowl on the coffee table.

  “I need to call Ruby Torkel,” she said.

  “Why don’t you lie down and rest a few minutes? You just got out of the hospital and if I remember correctly, the doctor told you to rest.”

  “I’m resting now.” She pointed to the throw across her lap as if that was clear indication she was in rest mode. “I’m just going to make a few phone calls.”

  She was interrupted by Frank’s cell. He fished in his inside pocket and looked at the display.

  “Work,” he said as he answered it.

  “Duncan here,” he said.

  “Now?” he asked

  “OK.” He flipped the phone closed.

  “It’s the Rosewood case I mentioned. I have to take care of some stuff. I suppose it would be demeaning of me to ask if you’ll be OK by yourself?”

  “Yes, it would. I’m a law enforcement professional. Plus, I have connections with influential people,” she said smiling, and put a finger through a belt loop on his trousers.

  He leaned down and kissed her on the ear, which produced an instant shiver in her.

  “I’ll be back when I can. I expect to find you here resting under your zebra blanket.”

  Frank took another swallow of Coke and left, telling Diane again that she’d better be good and take a nap.

  As soon as he was out the door, she called the hotel where Juliet and her grandmother were staying. The number was busy. She lay back and closed her eyes for a few moments. Her head throbbed, but the pain seemed to be coming more from the cut than from her concussion. She decided not to take anything for it. She hadn’t even filled the prescription the doctor gave her. After a few minutes she opened her eyes and tried the number again. Still busy.

  It would be easier in person, she thought. She got up, grabbed her purse, and went out the door, mentally thanking her mechanic for bringing the car to her. This was the first good look she had had of the new paint job. It looked just like the original before Patrice Stanton took a paint can to it. Diane keyed in the combination and opened the door. The keys were in the ashtray. The bill was lying on the passenger side. She left the bill there, grabbed the keys and put them in the ignition, and drove off to the hotel.

  As Diane knocked on the door to Ruby Torkel’s room, the security guard from the museum stuck his head out of the adjoining room’s doorway.

  “Oh, hi, Dr. Fallon, just checking,” said the guard.

  “I’m glad,” said Diane.

  Diane heard somebody on the other side of the door.

  “Who is it?” Ruby Torkel asked.

  “Diane Fallon,” she said.

  “I thought it looked like you. You can’t be too careful. These peepholes distort things.” She unlocked the door, unlatched the safety chain, and opened the door. “Had any luck finding who’s behind all this? I’m getting kind of tired of being cooped up in a hotel room. It’s nice, we have a bedroom and a little sitting room and two bathrooms, and room service is just real nice, but I’d like to get out and go shopping.”

  “We’re trying,” said Diane. “I came to ask you some questions about Leo Parrish and his relatives.”

  “I told you about all I know. I don’t know the family at all,” she said. “Can I get you something to drink? This little refrigerator is full of all kinds of drinks.”

  Diane didn’t want to even think about how much all this was costing.

  “No, thank you. I’m fine. I wanted to ask if there is anyone back in Glendale-Marsh who might know Leo Parrish’s relatives?” she asked.

  “Well, I expect Elnora St. James would know. She’s in her nineties, but is sharp as a tack. She lived by the Parrishes growing up. She likes to talk to people. Her hearing’s not too good, but like I said, her mind is still with us. You want me to call her for you?”

  “Yes, please,” said Diane.

  Ruby went to her suitcase and got an address book. “She lives with her great-granddaughter.”

  Ruby seemed to have developed some skill in the procedure for making a long-distance call from the hotel. In just a few moments she had someone on the line.

  “Arybeth, is Elnora there? I have someone who wants to know about the Parrishes.”

  “Yes, it’s about that, but mostly it’s about the Parrishes themselves. She’s a museum lady.”

  Ruby Torkel put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “She wants to know if it’s about the treasure. Lots of people have called to ask Elnora about the treasure. Sometimes she gets tired of people wanting her to tell them where to dig-if she knew, she’d have dug it up a long time ago.”

  She directed her attention to the phone again. “Elnora, how are you feeling today? That’s good. I got someone here who wants to speak with you about the Parrishes. She’s a real nice lady. My Juliet works for her at the museum here in Rosewood, Georgia.”

  Ruby handed Diane the phone. “She’s feeling real good today.”

  Diane took the phone and settled herself down in a chair. “Mrs. St. James…”

  “Call me Elnora, dear. I prefer it. So you want to know about old Luther and his boys? They were the devil’s own.”

  Chapter 52

  Mrs. Elnora St. James had a clear voice and an equally clear mind-and a strong opinion about the Glendale-Marsh Parrishes. This was a topic in which she was well versed. Diane found it easier just to let her talk about the family at her own pace and to interject a question only occasionally.

  “The two brothers, Luther and Henry, couldn’t have been more different,” Elnora began. “Henry was smart and kind. Luther was dumb and mean. The land belonged to He
nry. Their father left it to him. Luther was allowed to live in a small cottage near the north boundary marker, and he was bitter about that. He made Henry’s life miserable. Henry left the land to his son, Leo Parrish, and Leo let Luther work it while Leo traveled. Leontine, Leo’s twin sister, married and moved to New York. Stop me if I’m going too fast for you.”

  “You’re doing fine,” said Diane, glad that Beth had provided her with a Parrish kinship chart or she’d have a hard time keeping up.

  “Leo Parrish was supposed to have found some treasure-I guess Ruby told you about that?” she said.

  “Yes, she did. But I’m more interested in the family history,” said Diane.

  “You’d be about the only one,” said Elnora. “Now, where was I?”

  “Leontine moved to New York,” said Diane.

  “Yes. Leo lived with her for a while there, I think. He didn’t like coming back to the family farm, and I can’t say as I blame him. We sure didn’t like being neighbors with Luther and his boys.”

  “Did Leo will the land to Luther?” asked Diane.

  “Why no. Leo willed it to his sister, Leontine. Luther just took it,” said Elnora.

  “Took it?” said Diane.

  “Stole it,” declared Elnora. “Wrote Leontine and told her it was his land, should have been his land all along, and if she didn’t like it, that was too bad. Though his language was probably more colorful.”

  “She didn’t do anything about it?” asked Diane. So far the history of the Glendale-Marsh Parrishes wasn’t getting her anywhere, but she kept hoping, and Elnora was interested in talking.

  “Not anything direct, she didn’t. She was afraid of her uncle. Isn’t that a shame, being afraid of your own kin, especially an uncle? But Luther was mean, so was his sons. They’d have as soon killed her as look at her. So Luther took the land, but in the end Leontine got the last laugh.”

  “How was that?” asked Diane.

  “Leontine was the owner of record, so the tax bills for the land went to her home in New York. And she didn’t pay them; nor did she tell Luther they weren’t paid. You’d think the fool would have realized he had taxes due. But he might have thought Leontine was too scared of him not to pay them herself. Anyway, the unpaid taxes built up over the years. And one day when Luther was an old man, the sheriff came and ordered him off the land. Said it had been sold on the courthouse steps for nonpayment of taxes. I would like to have been a bird in a tree when the sheriff came to the door. I understand ol’ Luther was fit to be tied. He died a year later, probably from stewing over losing the land. Him and the boys tried to protest, but the tax people told Luther it wasn’t his land and he had no interest to protest. I bet that made him mad all over again.