Chapter 9
I stewed about the case on the drive home that night. Magdalena’s deduction that the murderer had left Jack’s body where Wendy and I would find it suddenly made the murder a whole lot more personal. Someone was trying to frame me. Worse, someone was trying to frame me who knew my habits. That meant that the killer was either someone I knew or someone who had been watching me. My heart rate quickened and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I wrestled with that idea.
The murderer also had to be someone who benefitted from Jack’s death, or someone who hated him enough to kill him. I couldn’t think how anyone other than me benefitted from his death; Jack didn’t have much of anything. As to hating him, that was a definite possibility. His whole life had revolved around acting and women. Jack had been a womanizer, and “cherchez la femme” definitely seemed to apply to his murder. But I had been out of touch with him for four years. What I needed to know was what Jack had been up to and who he had been doing it with since our separation.
Clive had talked about Jack sleeping with some of the women on the movie set, particularly Amy Bright. I didn’t know the movie people, but I did know Amy well enough to say hello to her. Maybe I should follow Miss Marple’s example and talk to a few likely people about Jack. I could get some inside information from the movie folk that they wouldn’t want to share with the police. If I passed it on to Tremaine, he might be impressed by how cooperative I was being, plus I might find something that would help him solve the case. It was better than hiding out in my house, waiting to see if Tremaine was either going to find Jack’s killer or tighten a noose around my neck. I could begin by going over to Amy’s house on the pretext of wanting a manicure. She would know that I was married to Jack, and I could steer the conversation around to his murder. Yes – I had a plan! It felt good to be able to do something to forward the investigation.
When I got home, I ate supper and took Wendy out for a walk. I wanted it to look as if I just happened to be passing by Amy’s house when I remembered that I needed a manicure. I wouldn’t be able to get much information out of her if she was suspicious of me.
Amy’s house was on a side street five blocks away from mine, on the boundary between the old part of town and the new subdivision. It was a cute little two-storey with white siding and a neat front lawn enclosed by a white picket fence. A driveway ran up the left side of the house with a detached garage set in behind. There was a wood sign advertising Amy’s hairdressing business on the front lawn with an arrow pointing to the side entrance reserved for customers. Not knowing if she were busy with a client, I decided to try the front door first. I rang the doorbell a couple of times and waited, but Amy didn’t appear. The curtains were drawn and it didn’t look as if anyone was home, but there was a strong odour of wood smoke about the house. Surely she wouldn’t have lit a fire and left it? She had to be around somewhere. I stepped off the porch and craned my neck upward to see the chimney, but there was no smoke coming from it.
“Come on, Wendy. Let’s try the side door,” I said.
We didn’t get a response there, either, so we wandered up the driveway. A high wooden fence separated the driveway from the backyard with a gate leading between them. I spotted smoke wafting over the gate. It smelled like wood smoke. What was she up to? People didn’t barbecue with wood. I hesitated, not wanting to trespass, but timidity wasn’t going to help me. I unlatched the gate and pushed my way in, pulling Wendy in behind me and closing the gate. I looked around. There was a deck running along the back of the house with a fire pit sunk into the grass before it. A fire was burning in the pit and Amy was standing beside it, her back to me, with a poker dangling from her hand. I noticed a small pile of clothes lying on the grass beside her.
I walked up behind her and said, “Hi, Amy, what are you doing?”
She whirled around in surprise, swinging the poker toward me in defence. Wendy growled and leapt at the poker, knocking Amy to the ground.
“Get her off me, get her off!” Amy screamed as she wrestled for the poker. Wendy clenched it in her teeth and growled, shaking her head.
“Wendy, off!” I commanded, hauling on her leash. She growled even louder and Amy screamed again before letting go of the poker.
A man’s face suddenly appeared over the fence. “What’s going on in there?” he called. “Hey, Amy, do you want me to call the police?”
“No!” Amy and I both shouted. Startled, we exchanged a look. Amy looked frantic. “No,” she mouthed at me, her eyes begging me to comply.
“It’s okay,” I called. “My dog thought the poker was a stick. When Amy didn’t throw it, my dog grabbed it and Amy tripped and fell. Wendy, lie down!” I grabbed the poker from her mouth and shoved Wendy onto the grass. She whined, flattening herself onto her belly while I helped Amy up.
“Gee, lady, you should have better control of your dog. A dog that big could really hurt someone,” the man said.
“I’m okay,” Amy called, brushing herself off. “Thanks for checking, Jim. That was very kind of you.”
The man shook his head and disappeared while Amy and I gazed at each other. My hair had toppled out of its knot and was hanging in my face, while Amy’s shirt had half-pulled out of her shorts.
“You’re Anna Nolan,” she said in a soft, girlish voice. “I recognize you. You used to be Jack’s wife.”
“That’s right. I was just stopping by to see if you could give me a manicure. I hope you can forgive this misunderstanding with my dog. I don’t know what’s got into her lately.” I said this over my shoulder as I strolled over to have a look at the fire pit. When Amy saw what I was doing, she hurried after me. Bending to examine the pile of clothes, I spotted a man’s white shirt lying on top.
“What’s this?” I asked.
She flushed and bit her bottom lip. “Uh, they’re just some old things I don’t wear anymore,” she said.
“Really?” I said. “Most people donate their clothes to charity when they don’t want them anymore.”
“I guess I’m just too lazy to bother doing that,” she said, twisting her fingers together.
“Why didn’t you just throw them in the garbage, then? Why go to all the trouble of burning them? Unless you’ve got something to hide?”
Amy laughed nervously. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have nothing to hide.”
I bent down to pick up the shirt, revealing a pair of men’s white briefs underneath.
“Hey!” Amy shrieked, snatching the underwear off the pile, only to expose a pair of men’s black dress socks.
“Amy Bright, either you’re a cross-dresser or you’re the worst liar in the world,” I said. “Who do these clothes really belong to? Or, should I say, who did they used to belong to? You were seeing Jack, weren’t you?” Amy gasped, and I pressed my advantage home. “These were Jack’s clothes, weren’t they? What are you doing with them, and why are you burning them?”
Amy’s eyes darted around the yard as if she were afraid that someone was spying on us from the shadows. Stepping a little closer, she said, “Please, Anna, don’t tell anybody,” in a low, urgent voice. “Yes, these are Jack’s things. The last time he came over, he asked me to do some laundry for him so that he wouldn’t have to go to the laundromat. I told him that I didn’t mind.”
“When was that?”
Her voice got even quieter, as if she were a small child confessing to a transgression. “Last Thursday, the day he died. He followed me home after we were finished shooting and stayed for the afternoon. I barbecued him a steak for supper. Only, no one knows that Jack was here, and I was afraid to say so in case I got in trouble. That English police sergeant was over here today, asking about Jack. Please don’t tell him about the clothes – he might get the wrong idea.” Amy looked at me beseechingly, her big, blue eyes looking scared.
“Look,” I said, “maybe we should sit down and talk about this. Sergeant Tremaine has been asking me about Jack, too.”
Amy smiled. “Oh, I’d like that. I’v
e been so nervous since Jack died, I didn’t know what to do. It would be nice to talk to someone about it.”
I gestured toward the deck. “Shall we?”
“Okay,” she said, leading me to a table and some chairs. I was excited, feeling in charge of the situation for a change. Finally, someone was more afraid than I. Pulling out a deck chair, I sat down while Amy perched on a bench beside me.
“How long did you know Jack?” I asked.
“Not long, just a few weeks. We met on the movie set. He was really nice to me. We used to talk about acting while we were waiting to shoot our scenes. He even took me to a party for the actors and the director at an expensive restaurant once. I mean the actors with big parts, not us extras. After that, Jack came over a couple of times for drinks. He said my house was real homey, and that he missed having a woman waiting for him when he got home. Jack was lonely, you know.”
“Yeah, poor Jack,” I said. She nodded, not noticing my sarcastic tone. “How long was he with you on Thursday?”
She closed her eyes to remember. “Let me see. He came to the house around three o’clock after he was done for the day. He parked his car in my garage so that no one would see it in the driveway. Jack said that we should keep our friendship secret because the director didn’t like the actors dating each other. ‘That kind of thing can cause trouble on the set,’ he told me.”
More likely, he didn’t want to be spotted around town in case word got back to me, but I kept that thought to myself.
“We had a couple of beers, and one thing led to another – you know. Later on, we had supper, and he left around 6:20 to take care of some business. I know that it was 6:20 because I had a 6:30 hair appointment and I was watching the time. And that was the last time I ever saw him.” A tear slid down Amy’s cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“Did he say where he was going?” I prompted.
“No, he didn’t tell me. To be truthful, I was a tiny bit jealous. I heard Jack tell a guy once that he had some ‘business’ to take care of when he meant that he was coming to see me. I thought it was pretty cute at the time, referring to me as business. So, when he told me last Thursday that he had some business to see to, I thought that he was leaving me to see another woman.”
“Was Jack seeing anyone else from the movie?”
“I don’t know. I’m not there all that much. They only need me for a few scenes now and then. But Jack was good-looking and funny, and he flirted with the actresses and the female crew members all the time, so he might have been seeing someone else and not told me.”
“Would that have hurt your feelings?”
She shrugged and smiled. “Not so much. Jack and I both knew that we were just having some fun together. I did ask him once if he was serious about someone, though. He wore this diamond and ruby ring all the time, you know, and I wondered if a girlfriend had given it to him. He told me that it was from an old flame, but she had died, so he wore it in memory of her. That’s why he was so lonely – he couldn’t get over her, even though she died years ago.” Amy sighed. “Jack was so romantic.”
I just about gagged when I heard about the ring. I had given it to him the night before we were married. It had been my grandfather’s ring, a handsome, square-cut diamond with a fat ruby set on each side. Pretty valuable, but my father wouldn’t wear it because he thought it was too gaudy. He gave it to me to give to Jack, however, saying that it would suit an actor just fine. Jack had loved that ring and wore it all the time. Closing my eyes, I tried to picture his body lying on the ground on the night of the murder. I couldn’t remember seeing the ring, and I was sure that it would have caught my eye if he had been wearing it.
“Amy, did Jack wear the ring over to your house last Thursday?” I asked.
Her forehead creased as she thought. “I’m pretty sure that he did. He always wore it when he wasn’t filming.”
“Any chance he left it behind with you?”
“Oh, no, I’m sure that he didn’t. He hardly ever took it off.”
I thought for a moment. I just couldn’t believe that this simple-minded woman had killed Jack, but whoever had done so must have taken the ring. Now we had both the ring and the missing gun to incriminate the murderer, if he – or she – still had them in his or her possession.
“Amy, I think that we can help each other out,” I said. Her eyes widened and she looked hopeful. “Inspector Tremaine suspects me of killing Jack because Jack left me some insurance money, but I didn’t do it, and I want to find out who did. You know the people over at the movie set – are they still filming, by the way?”
“Yes. They flew someone in yesterday to replace Jack. They’ll have to reshoot the scenes that he was in.”
“Okay, I want you to find out all the gossip you can about Jack. Talk to the crew, talk to the other extras, and try to find out if Jack was seeing someone else. I know that your feelings could get hurt, Amy, but Sergeant Tremaine suspects both of us, so if we find out who really killed Jack, we’ll be off the hook.
Amy nodded her head eagerly. “That’s a really good idea. But what should I do with the rest of Jack’s clothes?”
I paused. The clothes were pretty important evidence. I didn’t want to rat Amy out to the police, but I was afraid to hold back something as crucial as Jack’s whereabouts on the day of his murder.
“Look, I think that it would be a good idea if you told Sergeant Tremaine about last Thursday,” I said. She looked frightened and shook her head no. “Now, wait a minute, Amy. Just hear me out. Tremaine has to find out where Jack was the day he died, right? He’s not going to rest until he’s got Jack’s whole day figured out. He’s bound to find out that Jack was here sooner or later, and if you hold out on him, it’s going to make you look guilty. You don’t want that, do you?”
Amy shook her head, looking worried. “You’re probably right, I should tell him, but the sergeant’s so scary. I’m afraid to talk to him. Please, can you be here when I tell him?”
She stared imploringly into my face, and I did a mental eye roll. I’d never seen anyone look so helpless before. What the hell, I’d help Amy if she told Tremaine the truth. The closer the sergeant got to finding the killer, the better off I’d be.
“Sure, I can do that for you,” I said. “I know that he’ll appreciate your help, and it’ll look better if you volunteer the information.”
“You’re right. Can we call him right now and get it over with?”
And that’s how I ended up having a three-way conversation with the last woman to ever sleep with my ex-husband, and the cop investigating his death. Actually, the conversation between Tremaine and Amy was pretty amazing to watch. When she had been alone with me, Amy had radiated a helpless, child-like quality. With Tremaine, that quality somehow amplified itself into full-blown, pheromone-rattling sex appeal. Amy was like a real-life Jessica Rabbit. When Tremaine arrived, she somehow managed to squeeze him onto the bench beside her. She was so close to him that he had to keep his elbows down while taking notes to avoid jabbing her in the ribs. It was amusing to watch him trying to maintain a professional demeanour with Amy being so openly seductive.
“I guess I got confused as to which day you were talking about when you dropped by before, Sergeant Tremaine,” she was saying. “But then Anna came over for a manicure, and we started talking about Jack. I told her that Jack was here with me on the afternoon he died. She thought that it was really important to tell you. Jack was a sweet, dear man, and I would do anything to help you catch the person who killed him.” She stared up into his eyes like he was the woodsman come to save her from the big, bad wolf. Tremaine glanced down into her upturned face; at that angle, it would have been impossible for him to miss the magnificent cleavage so amply displayed by her low-cut t-shirt.
“Very admirable, Ms. Bright,” he said, a little smile playing at his lips.
“Please call me Amy, Sergeant.”
“Of course. Now you mentioned that you hav
e some of Mr. Nolan’s clothing?”
“Yes, sir, I put it in a bag for you.” She turned and picked up a plastic grocery bag containing the clothes that had escaped the fire. “Here it is.”
“Ms. Nolan,” Tremaine said, turning to me, “Ms. Bright claims that your ex-husband was wearing a diamond and ruby ring when he left here last Thursday. Are you certain that Mr. Nolan was not wearing that ring when you discovered his body?” He waited for my answer, the smile completely gone from his face now.
“Yes, I’m sure that he wasn’t wearing the ring.”
“And from Ms. Bright’s description, you believe that it was the same ring you gave Mr. Nolan on the night before your wedding?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Very interesting. Ladies, thank you for your help. I’ll take the clothing with me and have it checked by forensics, although I doubt we’ll find anything since Ms. Bright laundered the clothes. By the way, would you mind dropping by the station tomorrow, Ms. Bright, to provide us with your fingerprints? It would help the investigation.”
“I’d be happy to do that for you,” she said, practically crawling into his lap.
“Thank you,” he said, scrambling to his feet and tucking the notebook into his jacket. Amy got up, too, and leaned in toward him.
“Ms. Nolan, are you leaving now?”
I glanced at my watch. It was going on nine. “Yes, it’s getting late.”
“Let me give you and Wendy a lift home.”
“That’s not necessary. It’s only a five-block walk.”
“But it’s getting dark. I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting you walk home alone in the dark.”
“It’s very kind of you to be concerned, but Wendy and I could use the walk.”
“Let me walk you home then. I’d be glad of the exercise, too.”
“Poor guy,” I thought, “maybe he’s afraid that he won’t be able to get away from Amy if I leave him alone with her.” I accepted his offer and rose to my feet. Tremaine turned back to Amy and extended his hand to her.
“Thank you again for the information, Ms. Bright. I’ll look forward to seeing you at the station tomorrow. Shall we say at 9 a.m.?”
“I will if you promise to call me Amy,” she said, holding onto his hand.
“Amy it is, then,” he said with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”
“Night-night, Sergeant,” she said, beaming. Obviously, she was over her fear of Tremaine. I could feel the heat she was generating from where I was standing. How on earth was she doing that? I shrugged. It was none of my business what went on between the two of them.
“Coming?” Tremaine asked, glancing at me. I smiled, and Wendy and I followed him across the lawn to the gate. I turned to wave goodbye to Amy, and she gave me a “thumbs-up” gesture. I nodded before following Tremaine down the driveway and out onto the sidewalk.
The evening air had cooled and I wanted to zip up my jacket. “Would you mind taking Wendy for a moment?” I asked. He nodded and I handed him the leash. When I straightened up from fastening my jacket, he began walking away before I could take the leash back. Wendy trotted contentedly beside him while I hurried to keep pace with his long legs.
“How long have you known Ms. Bright, Anna?” he asked.
“Amy was already living here when I moved into town. We speak to each other on occasion.”
“And why did you visit her tonight?”
“To be frank, there was talk around town that she had been seeing Jack. I wanted to find out if it was true, and how well Amy knew him.” I thought that my honesty would disarm him, but he didn’t even blink.
“Why?”
“If I’m going to walk with you, you’re going to have to slow down,” I said, starting to puff a little.
“Sorry,” he said, shortening his pace, “I do that to people. So, why did you want to find out how well Ms. Bright knew your husband?”
I decided to try for a more even footing with Tremaine by appealing to his human side. “Come on, Sergeant. If it had been your ex-wife who was murdered and you were the prime suspect, wouldn’t you want to find out everything you could?”
He stopped and turned to face me, his expression sober. “Anna, let me remind you that this is an official police investigation. Prying into the case could land you in serious trouble. Please, stay out of it. Have a little faith in my abilities. I’ll find out who did it. The Mounties always get their man – or woman. Haven’t you heard that?”
“That sounds promising. Do you have any other suspects?” I asked, staring into his eyes. He blinked first. I shook my head and took Wendy’s leash from him, setting off again.
“I’m following various lines of inquiry,” he said.
“Amy Bright being one of them? You don’t seriously think Amy did it, do you?”
“I don’t know.”
I ignored his reticence. “I had my first real conversation with her today, and I don’t believe that Amy is a murderer. She’s too nice, for one thing, and besides, I don’t think she has the brains to do it. If Amy had killed Jack, the police would have found her standing over his body with a smoking gun.”
“Instead of finding you,” he replied with a blank face.
“Ah, but with no murder weapon, and I had an alibi, or most of one,” I countered.
Tremaine said, “It doesn’t take much of a brain to shoot a man and dump his body beside the road, Anna. It could have been sheer coincidence that you and your dog found Mr. Nolan.”
“What’s Amy’s motive?” I asked. He didn’t answer, and I glanced sideways at him. Tremaine’s expression was contemplative as he strode along beside me, his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
He shrugged. “The temperature changes quickly here in the Foothills.”
“With the amount of heat Amy was generating, I’d have thought you’d have stayed warm for a long time to come.”
He grinned at me. It transformed his face, making him look younger and a whole lot more approachable.
“You noticed that, did you?”
“Are you kidding? How old are you, by the way?” The words were out of my mouth before I thought better of them. Holy smokes, would he think that I was flirting with him?
“Old enough to know better,” he said. I snorted, relaxing a little. “Thirty-one. And you’re forty.”
I nodded. “Forty with a grown son.”
“Ben,” he said, his face turning serious again. He looked away, and suddenly I felt afraid.
“Ben has an alibi,” I said.
“A partial alibi. He and his girlfriend met at the theatre at seven fifteen. He doesn’t have an alibi from six to seven. Remember, the coroner set the time of death between six and nine.”
I swallowed because my mouth had suddenly gone bone dry. “Ben didn’t tell me that he only has a partial alibi. Where does he say he was between six and seven?”
“Running errands. He said that he stopped at the chemist’s for some toothpaste and dropped off a book at the library. Tossed the book down the return chute and threw out the chemist’s receipt, so he doesn’t have any proof. He said that he’ll try to find the clerk who waited on him at the store – when he has the time.”
My breath came more quickly. “Maybe if I talked to him, he’d be a little more cooperative.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. After he made that comment, I impressed upon him the importance of coming up with a complete alibi.”
“I’m sure he will. I’m sorry if the two of you got off on the wrong foot.” It was obvious that Tremaine’s questions had alienated Ben, and that my son wasn’t going out of his way to be helpful. That kind of attitude would hurt Ben in the end.
“I hope so,” Tremaine said. “He certainly didn’t hide the fact that he didn’t like his father very much.”
We had reached the end of my driveway. I turned to face him, forcing Wendy to sit at my feet.
“He didn�
��t do it, Tremaine,” I said. He didn’t respond, and his eyes were guarded. I took hold of the end of his sleeve and gave it a little shake. “He didn’t do it, Tremaine,” I repeated. “I’ll prove it.”
I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes. “No, Anna,” he said. “No playing amateur detective. I don’t want the murderer to see you as any kind of a threat. Remember your son and stay out of this – please.” His hand twitched, and he shoved it into his pocket.
My mouth stretched into a tight little smile. “You said that I’m your prime suspect, remember? What murderer are you talking about?”
He frowned. “I can’t discount anyone at this stage, including you and your son. That doesn’t mean that I’m not concerned about your safety.”
“Of course. You’re just doing your job. No problem. You don’t have to worry about us. But, it’s chilly and I’m going inside now. See you around, Tremaine.”
I pulled Wendy to her feet, and we went inside the house and shut the door. I snapped the leash off her collar and thought about Ben as I headed into my bedroom. Why hadn’t he told me about the big hole in his alibi? I looked out the window and saw Tremaine still standing in the driveway. Our eyes met, and he turned and walked away.
I had changed out of my clothes when there was a knock at the door. I threw a robe over my pyjamas and hurried to answer it.
“Steve, what are you doing here?” I asked, surprised to see him. He was in uniform, and I looked past him to see his cruiser in the driveway. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard that Tremaine got called out to meet with you and Amy Bright tonight. I came over to see if everything went okay. Are you all right?” I looked into his worried eyes and saw something that I hadn’t seen in years.
“Uh, yes, I’m fine. Thanks. Why don’t we sit out on the porch?” I didn’t want him inside my house. I liked Steve, but he was still a kid and I didn’t have time for any of his delusions.
“Sure, if it’s not too cold for you,” he said, taking a seat on the bench. Remaining on my feet, I leaned against the wall and folded my arms over my chest.
“Nope. I’m surprised that you didn’t pass Tremaine on the way over, by the way. He left here on foot about five minutes ago.”
“I came in from out of town,” he replied. My porch light wasn’t on and his face was in shadow. “So, what’s going on with Amy Bright?”
“I just found out tonight that she was with Jack on the afternoon he was killed.”
“Huh,” was his only comment.
“Yes, but I don’t think she had anything to do with his death. Do you know her?”
“I know who she is, but I’ve never spoken to her. She has that hairdresser business – right?”
“Yeah. She seems like a nice person.”
“What did Tremaine have to say?”
“I think he’s a little more sceptical than I am.” I thought about our conversation concerning Ben’s partial alibi. “He’s a little more sceptical than everybody, in fact.”
“He should be. He has to be.”
“Uh huh,” I said, taking a seat beside him. I crossed my arms again and my shoulder nudged up against his. It was a small bench. We sat together quietly in the dark, staring out across the lawn. The open front door let out a pool of warm light, and I could hear Wendy snuffling at the screen.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Steve said. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about the investigation.”
“I didn’t think so,” I said. “It’s kind of you to worry about me, Steve, but I don’t want you to get into trouble with Tremaine. I don’t want any of my friends to get into trouble over this investigation, and especially not with Tremaine.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s sharp, isn’t he? And intimidating. I don’t think anything gets past those eyes of his. He’s not like you boys.”
Steve’s eyes were suddenly cool as he turned to look at me. “He’s a notch above the local police, you mean?”
“More experienced, I would say.” Suddenly, I felt flustered. “Well, he can hardly help it, can he? He gets sent out on those big homicide cases.”
“Not like us local hicks.”
“Come on, Steve, I didn’t say that.”
“He’s only three years older than me, you know.”
“What?”
Steve jumped to his feet. “I’ve got to get going. I’m sure there’s something important I should be doing, like handing out speeding tickets or arresting someone for drunk and disorderly. See you around. Good luck with Tremaine.”
“Steve, don’t be like that!” I called after him as he climbed into his cruiser and reversed down my driveway. I watched his tail lights disappear as he sped away toward town.
What had gotten into him? It wasn’t like Steve to be so touchy. I shook my head and shrugged. He’d get over it in time, I guessed. And there was an upside to our little spat. Now I didn’t have to worry about letting him down easy.
Framed for Murder Page 9
