Close Knit Killer

by Maggie Sefton

  “Well, I’m ready for my first mug of the day,” Kelly said as she headed for the kitchen. “Have a seat, Burt. Try out that comfy new chair I bought.”

  “Don’t mind if I do, Kelly. This may be the only time I get to sit down all day.” Burt settled into the overstuffed armchair and leaned back. “Say . . . this is comfortable. I may sneak over here and steal a nap sometime.”

  “Be my guest, Burt,” she said as she filled her mug. “You won’t bother me or my accounts. Besides, you may need a break in between trips to Estes Park and back. Is the booth ready for the market opening tomorrow?”

  “Almost. The shelves are nearly filled. Both Rosa and Connie are taking turns driving loads of stuff from the shop to the exhibition building. We should be ready by tonight. We’re going to take both of them to dinner and pay for their hotel. We always need them during the market on Saturday and Sunday.”

  “You’re bringing in the part-time help to run the shop tomorrow, right?” Kelly settled into another upholstered chair across from Burt.

  “Yes, thank goodness, we have a deep enough list of temp helpers who’ve worked in the shop, so they know what to do and can answer customers’ questions.” Burt settled his hands in his lap, lacing his fingers, in what Kelly recognized as his “let’s talk” pose. “Now, let’s go over how we’re going to handle this meeting with Madge. I called her earlier this morning and asked her if she could come in and discuss another spinning class we might have her teach. So we’ll have some time before I have to drive back to Estes Park. I’m thinking we’ll meet her in the remodeled storage building. That’s where we’ve been keeping bags of fleece for the market. Plus, it will give us some privacy.” Burt sighed. “I have to tell you, Kelly. I think you’ve really gone out into left field with this one. I know what you’ve told me sounds incriminating, but . . . I just can’t picture Madge doing something like that. I don’t even know if she has the strength to rip open Jared Rizzoli’s throat. I just don’t think she could. It’s entirely possible Bridget thought she recognized Madge, when she didn’t. Maybe it was someone else. Then again, why would some unknown woman be washing her hands behind Lambspun?” His familiar puzzled frown appeared.

  Kelly took a deep drink of her coffee. She still had her doubts, too. Assuming Bridget was correctly identifying Madge, then everything Bridget told her sounded suspicious. Then add Madge’s lies—to her daughter and to Kelly. Why would Madge lie about something so innocuous if she wasn’t hiding something? Then again . . . Madge was slightly built, not big and muscular like her daughter Barb. Could Madge commit such a brutal murder?

  “I know how you feel, Burt. That’s precisely why I called you. Why I always call you. You’re my sounding board. And I admit, I could be completely wrong about Madge. That’s why we’ll have to make this questioning sound innocent. I certainly don’t want to accuse an innocent woman and have her mad at me forever.” Kelly made a face.

  “Same here. Madge is a valuable teacher, and a wonderful spinner, and a good friend of Lambspun. We don’t want to lose her. So we’re definitely going to have to tread carefully. As I said before, Bridget could have been completely mistaken.”

  Kelly glanced at her watch. “Maybe we should go over there now. She’s coming in fifteen minutes, so we might as well get set up and comfortable in the storage area.”

  “I agree.” Burt pushed himself out of the chair. “We’ve got a worktable and chairs in there now, so we can be working when Madge shows up. I’ve got some files with class schedules inside, so I’ll go get those now.”

  “I’ll bring my charity baby hat with me,” Kelly said as she headed back to the kitchen for a coffee refill. “I’m almost finished anyway.”

  Burt stood in the open doorway. “Okay, grab your knitting and come on over. I think we should settle in now, so we look natural. Madge often shows up early.”

  “Got it. I’ll be right over,” Kelly said, but Burt was already out the door.

  * * *

  “Okay, that looks like Madge’s car pulling into a parking space now,” Burt said, as he leaned back in the metal chair to peer through a side window.

  Kelly looked up from the almost-finished baby hat. She was working on the crown now, reducing the stitches row by row, so the circle narrowed and narrowed, until it was just a small opening that she would pull closed from a strand of yarn beneath the crown. She looked toward the door. “Okay, I’ll follow your lead as usual. Have you figured out how you’re going to make this sound innocent?”

  “Kind of. I’ll probably play it by ear. We’ll see.” Burt moved more of his class schedule papers around him on the table.

  Suddenly Madge appeared in the doorway, and Kelly was astounded to see she was carrying another bag of fleece. A beige one this time. Instinctively, Kelly jumped from her chair to help the older woman. “Here, Madge, let me take that. I can’t believe you’ve spun another whole bag of fleece.”

  “Well, I had some left over from my Creamy Beige Beauty. She always throws the prettiest shades of beige and brown.” She handed the bag off to Kelly. “Thank you, my dear. That’s very sweet of you, but I can really manage, you know. I’m stronger than I look.”

  Burt stood and pulled out a chair on Madge’s side of the worktable. “Hey, Madge. Have a seat, will you, and take a look at this schedule I’ve drawn up. I think I could use you for another class.” He placed a sheet of paper on the table in front of her chair.

  Madge looked up at the ceiling and the bigger windows on the walls. “Hal Nelson certainly did a good job with this old garage. Repaired the walls, brought in more light. Even patched up the stucco with new.” She gave a satisfied nod. “He’s a good craftsman.”

  “He certainly is,” Kelly added as Madge sat down. “I kept track of his progress every day. His and Malcolm’s, that is.”

  “Oh, yes. Malcolm. He seemed to be a good worker, despite his problems.” Madge looked down at the paper in front of her. “Looks like you could use someone for a Thursday afternoon class, am I right?”

  “You sure are. Do you think you could handle another class, Madge?” Burt asked, his pen poised over some other papers.

  “Certainly, Burt. I’d be glad to,” Madge said with a little smile. “Now, is that all you wanted to talk to me about?”

  Kelly looked up from the knitted baby hat, surprised by Madge’s question. Burt looked surprised, too.

  “Well, I . . . I did want to get on your schedule so you could . . . plan ahead,” Burt answered after a few seconds’ pause.

  “You could have asked me that question on the phone, Burt,” Madge said, her little smile turning sly. “Are you sure you don’t have some other questions?”

  Kelly stared at Madge. She couldn’t help it. Madge was acting like she knew what Burt was going to say before he said it. Kelly’s little buzzer went off inside.

  Burt seemed a little nonplussed for a second, then looked down and cleared his throat. He laid the class schedules aside. “Well, yes, Madge . . . there is something else I wanted to ask. I . . . We, Mimi and I, have noticed you doing some weeding in the garden lately.”

  Madge cocked her head and kept that little smile. “Yes, whenever I see an intrusive weed in a garden, I just have to yank it out. Why do you ask? Did you not want me to remove the weeds?”

  “No, no . . . it’s just that . . . Mimi planted some new flowers and she wanted to make sure you didn’t mistake them for weeds. And someone said you were weeding at the back of the building Friday night, two weeks ago. And that’s where Mimi planted her new flowers.”

  Madge folded her hands in her lap. “No, I wasn’t weeding behind the building two weeks ago. That was the night Jared Rizzoli was killed.”

  Burt’s expression grew somber. “Yes . . . yes, it was.”

  Kelly was watching this short exchange with fascination. Madge was carefully answering Burt’s questions. But she also added information or asked a question of her own. Kelly’s little buzzer got louder. Something was defin
itely up with Madge. She decided to jump in, if for nothing else than to distract Madge’s attention.

  “Don’t be annoyed with Burt, Madge. It’s all my fault for telling him that one of the café waitresses said she saw you that Friday night about seven o’clock. You were washing your hands and your dress beneath the outside water faucet. I just happened to mention it to Burt, and . . . well, he got worried about Mimi’s flowers.”

  Kelly was quite pleased with her quick subterfuge and even quicker lie. She’d noticed that lying in the midst of questioning suspects had come all too easily when she was sleuthing. She glanced at Burt and he looked slightly grateful.

  Madge, however, eyed Kelly and her smile grew. “Just happened? Kelly, I doubt that you ‘just happen’ to do anything. You appear far more deliberate a person than that.”

  Kelly blinked. She wasn’t expecting that response. “I’m not sure what you mean,” Kelly managed after a few seconds’ pause.

  “Yes, you do. Burt didn’t ask me to come in for a simple scheduling question. There’s something else he wants to ask me. Why else would he be sitting here in this nice quiet room, where we cannot be disturbed? And why else would you be sitting next to him, Kelly?” Madge gave her an almost maternal smile. “You really should finish that hat, dear. Those little babies could use it.” She pointed to the knitted hat in Kelly’s lap.

  Kelly stared back at Madge, who was sitting in the chair, calm, cool, and collected—asking them questions.

  Burt cleared his throat again, and leaned forward over the table. “You’re right, Madge. We do have some other questions to ask you about the night Jared Rizzoli died. Kelly said you told her you asked Barbara where she had driven when she returned to your home that Friday evening. Yet, Barbara told Kelly that you were not there when she came home. You came in later, and your dress was wet. Barbara said you told her you walked through a neighbor’s sprinklers. Now, those seem to be innocuous lapses from truth, except for the fact that you were seen outside Lambspun within the time frame that Jared Rizzoli was killed.” Burt’s voice dropped lower. “So, Madge, would you like to tell Kelly and me exactly where you were during the hours of six o’clock and eight o’clock the evening that Jared Rizzoli was killed?”

  Madge looked first at Burt, then at Kelly, her little smile still in place. She leaned back into her chair and folded her hands again. “I’ll be glad to. I met Jared Rizzoli here in the Lambspun driveway. I spoke to him for a minute, then I stabbed him in the throat with the knife I took from a toolbox in this building.”

  Kelly stared at her. She couldn’t help it. What the heck? Madge calmly admitted murdering Jared Rizzoli like she was describing a new spinning technique. Kelly quickly glanced to Burt, who looked equally stunned at Madge’s brazen statement.

  “Madge . . . do you know what you’re saying?” Burt asked, looking startled. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Of course I’m all right. And I know exactly what I’m saying. I borrowed Jennifer’s cell phone overnight so I could send a text message to Rizzoli that he would respond to. I figured he would definitely show up later in the evening if his real estate agent asked him to.” Her smile turned smug. “Of course he did. If it had to do with money, Rizzoli would come running. So, I waited until Hal Nelson and Malcolm left for the evening, and I took one of their work knives. I purposely chose one that was old and worn. But the blade was still sharp enough to do the job.” She gave a self-satisfied nod. Job well-done, obviously. “I gave it an extra yank to make sure he died quickly. Got all those important veins and arteries. I didn’t want him trying to get out of the car and attracting attention. Of course, that made quite a mess. That’s why the waitress saw me. I had to wash off all that blood, for goodness’ sake.”

  For goodness’ sake. Kelly stared at Madge, mesmerized by her calm recitation of a bloody, brutal murder. For goodness’ sake. Goodness had nothing to do with it. She looked at Burt and their gazes met. Burt looked as shocked at what he’d heard as Kelly felt. What was it the night watchman would cry out in warning as he walked London streets two centuries ago? “Murder! Bloody murder! Murder most foul!” Murder. For goodness’ sake.

  Burt leaned forward a little more. “Did you know Hal Nelson was going to talk to Rizzoli that night? Had the two of you discussed—”

  “No such thing!” Madge snapped angrily, sitting up ramrod straight in the chair. “I was shocked when I saw Hal outside talking to that awful man. Hal Nelson had nothing to do with my plans. I’d already decided to kill Rizzoli the day after Barbara went to his seminar and confronted him in public. Rizzoli was an evil, evil man who caused great pain and suffering and death. Yes, death! Good people sickened and died like Hal’s mother or committed suicide like my dear husband. All because of Jared Rizzoli’s greed and hateful schemes. He was an evil man and deserved to die. And I’d kill him all over again if I had the chance!” She gave a firm nod, as if saying, “That’s that.”

  Kelly watched Madge, sitting tall and proud in her Righteous Anger. She looked to Burt, who was watching Madge with a mixture of astonishment and sadness. Burt took a deep breath and spoke. “Madge, you realize I will have to report this conversation to the police.”

  “Of course I do. I knew you two had figured it out when you asked me down here.”

  “You also need to speak with an attorney. Do you have someone you’ve used and can trust?”

  “Yes, I’ve used Lawrence Chambers for years. He’s excellent and as trustworthy as the day is long.”

  Kelly sat up straighter at that. At last she could do something to help Madge. “Lawrence Chambers is my lawyer, too. I have his number in my directory. Would you like to call him now?” She dug her phone from her pocket.

  “Why, thank you, Kelly. I’m not surprised you have Chambers as your attorney. He’s sharp as a tack. Like you.” Madge gave her another of those disconcerting maternal smiles.

  Kelly found the number and handed over her phone as Madge pushed away from the table. “Is it all right if I speak to him outside, Burt?” she asked politely.

  “Of course, Madge.” Burt gestured toward the door. Then he sank back into his chair and looked over at Kelly. “Well, that is the damnedest thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve had criminals confess before, but nothing like this. I’d better leave a message for Dan. I can talk to him while I’m driving back to Estes Park.” He shook his head. “Mimi’s never going to believe this.”

  Kelly could barely believe it, either. “What do we do with her? I mean, after she finishes talking with Chambers?”

  “Oh, I’m going to take her to Chambers’s office, then I’m going to notify the investigating officers in this case and tell them what we just heard and inform them that Madge is presently with her lawyer. I assume that good attorney Chambers will personally take Madge to the police department to turn herself in.”

  This time, Kelly wagged her head in Burt fashion. “I swear, Burt. If you’d told me yesterday that we’d be having a conversation like this today, I would have thought you were crazy. Good Lord! She was so . . . so calm and collected and cold-blooded about it. Just sat there smiling, like she was pleased with herself or something. Talk about bizarre.”

  “I’ve learned over the years to never say ‘now I’ve heard everything.’ Because sure as shooting, you’ll hear something even stranger later on.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, Burt.” Then she couldn’t resist saying, “For goodness’ sake.”

  Burt just rolled his eyes as he pulled out his cell phone.

  Twenty

  “Man, I forgot how big this event is,” Steve said, looking around at the colorful vendors’ booths, crammed cheek-by-jowl into every aisle of the Wool Market exhibition building. “Look at all these people.”

  “I know. Fiber arts have surged in popularity these last few years,” Kelly said as they slowly maneuvered their way toward the Lambspun booth ahead.

  People crowded every aisle in the large building on the county fairgrounds whe
re the Estes Park Wool Market was held every June. Knitted, spun, woven, crocheted, tatted, sewn, and felted creations beckoned from every booth; some even spilled over the sides. Spun yarns of every fiber imaginable and in colors that would put a rainbow to shame enticed passersby. Kelly would have given in to the temptations as she moved through the aisles, but today she was looking for information, not fiber.

  “Hey, I think I spotted the booth,” Steve said, craning his neck. “Yeah, there’s Burt.”

  “Good. He’s the man I want to see,” Kelly said, sliding sideways around a woman who had stopped in the middle of the aisle. Kelly sped up in front of a gaggle of women who had stopped to admire a weaver’s exquisite handiwork. Now there was a clear shot to the Lambspun booth.

  “Slick move,” Steve said with a chuckle as he caught up with her.

  “I learned to walk in big East Coast cities,” she joked, heading straight for Burt, who was placing books on a lower shelf of the booth. She called out as she sped up, “Hey, Burt. How’re you folks doing?”

  Burt glanced up and smiled as Kelly and Steve approached. “Hey, there, you two. Good to see you both.”

  “How’s business so far?” Steve asked, shaking Burt’s hand as he scanned the crowds. Lambspun’s booth was filled with customers.

  “Great, so far. We’re nearly sold out of the Lambspun hand-dyed yarns. I’ll run back tonight and ransack the basement for more.”

  “Did you hear anything more from Dan?” Kelly asked. “Last night you said that Madge would go before a judge on Monday to hear charges. Did she spend the night in the county detention facility?”

  “No, Dan said the detectives in the case took her statement, then conferred with the county prosecutor about charges. Meanwhile, she was allowed to post bail. But I’m fairly certain she’ll be heading to the detention center on Monday after she’s been charged with murder.”

  Steve shook his head. “Brother, that is so hard to believe. I’ve never met Madge, but listening to Kelly describe what this sweet little grandmother did . . . Wow. Scary.”