As she stood up, he thought of another question. “You have just the one child?”
She stiffened noticeably. Her voice lost its animation and became flat and mechanical. “Yes. A boy. His name is Stephen.”
“He’s in your custody?”
“Yes.”
“Does his father see him often?”
“No.” Her voice was like steel.
“You’ve been married just the once?”
“Yes.”
“And the name Reimer?”
“My maiden name.” Dark eyes flashed.
“You work?”
“I’m a personnel consultant with a national company.”
“Good pay?”
“Very.”
“Does Mr. Martin pay support?”
“Not a cent. I don’t want his money.”
“All right. Thanks for your time. I’ll let you know if there’s anything else.”
He shut the door behind her and turned to look at Ryan. His mouth was stern, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Well? What do you think of the ex-wife?”
“I didn’t think I was supposed to have an opinion.”
He stared at her.
She shrugged. “This is my first case, remember?”
“What’s the matter, did I hurt your feelings?”
“No.” Cheeks burning, she looked at the notes she had made.
“I asked what you thought of Hildy Reimer. Or don’t you have an opinion?”
“I think she’s one smart lady. The type you’d expect to see in an important job. Career woman.”
“Got pretty nervy when I asked about her kid.”
“Could have scratched your eyes out, as they say.”
“Think she’d hesitate to lie to the police?” he asked with a raised brow.
“About as long as she’d hesitate to step on a cockroach.”
“That’s what I thought, too.” He took several strides around the room, and she was reminded of a prisoner pacing his cell. Manziuk dwarfed the study, making it seem too small, too stuffy, and too confining. “Well,” he said at last. “We’ve seen them all. Now the hard part begins.”
There was a knock on the door. Constable Carnaby entered. “Mrs. Brodie wondered if they may go ahead with supper now that you’ve talked to everyone.”
“Certainly.”
“She also wondered if you would like a tray in here. Nothing fancy, she said. Just a cold supper.”
“As befitting the circumstances,” Manziuk said. “Yes, that would be fine. I’d like to talk with Ford now, too. See if he’s finished inside. If he is, you can tell the people they are free to go around the house. But I’d like them to stay inside.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll tell them. I’ll tell Special Constable Ford you’re ready for him.”
When they were alone, Ryan said, “Who do you think did it?”
“I rather think we don’t know the half of what’s been going on here. Why don’t you start by going over their stories and figuring out where each of them say they were between when Mrs. Martin was last seen and when the body was found? That should prove interesting.”
Ryan bent to her task.
There was a light tap at the door before it opened to let Ford in. He was only 5’ 10” but was as sturdy as a redwood and could have played the heavy in any movie. To go with his stature, his voice was brusque and low, and a long scar ran across his left cheek. The kind of man a person would think twice before talking back to.
He sank into the empty armchair and looked at Manziuk. “Well, we don’t have much. We’ve fingerprinted the girl’s room. Not much hope. Masses of prints. But we’ll check them out. Only thing of interest was this.” He handed Manziuk a scrap of paper. “Two sets of prints, one of them likely hers. We’re working on identifying the others.”
Manziuk opened it. There were a few typewritten lines.
Jillian Darling,
You may think it’s all over and finished between us, but you’re wrong. You can’t play games with me. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you said you loved me and wanted to marry me once, and I know you meant it. I still want you and I will have you. I won’t let anything or anyone come between us. Nothing will stop me. I’m not afraid of what will happen. And you should
The paper was torn and there was no signature.
ELEVEN
Interesting,” Manziuk said as he passed it to Ryan, who read it and then began hunting through her notes.
“Where did you find it?” Manziuk asked.
“That’s the strange thing. In the Fischers’ room,” Ford said.
“Fischers’?”
“Yes, sir. Taped to the bottom of a drawer in the bureau.”
“Well, that’s certainly going to take some explaining,” Manziuk muttered. “Anything else?”
“Not too much of interest.” Ford opened a small worn notebook. “I’ll give you a general idea. Peter and Jillian Martin. A lot of women’s clothing. Expensive and very feminine. Lots of lace and ruffles. Much more than you’d need for one weekend. Expensive jewelry. Lots of cosmetics and such. Just a few men’s things. Blood pressure tablets in the nightstand. His. Prescribed four months ago.”
Manziuk nodded.
“Hildy Reimer has a picture of a young boy on her dresser. Nice, expensive tailored clothes, some jewelry, cosmetics, not much else. Except for a gun hidden in a pocket of her suitcase.”
“A what?” Manziuk asked in astonishment.
“A Browning .22 target pistol to be exact.”
“Now what on earth is she doing with that?”
Ford and Ryan both looked at him.
“Okay,” Manziuk said, “we’ll have to ask her later. Go on.”
“Kendall Brodie, room barer than you’d expect. Apparently he doesn’t actually live here. A lot of car magazines. Also a number of trophies for debating and public speaking. Some law books. Clothes. Toiletries. Things from earlier years. Nothing that looked unusual.
“Nick Donovan is sharing the room. Just clothes and toilet items. Nothing personal except a couple of Dean Koontz paperbacks.
“George and Ellen Brodie. Large room. Decorated very nicely. Flowers everywhere. Clothes, personal items, a lot of pictures of people. Knickknacks. Not much of interest. Some mild sleeping pills. Hers. She got them about three months ago. Bottle is half-empty. And some pills for an ulcer. His. A month old.
“Douglass and Anne Fischer. Clothes and toilet items. Not a lot. Normal things. Tylenol 3 with codeine, Seconal tablets, and an ice pack. The note I showed you. And one other item of interest—an empty brandy bottle in the back of the closet, behind a suitcase. We took prints.
“Shauna Jensen. Clothes of the same style as her sister’s. One torn dress lying on the floor of her side of the closet. Looks like it was a sharp dress. A sketch pad with some pretty good drawings under her pillow. Also a brochure from an art school. And a suitcase with some clothes in it lying open on the floor. Nothing fancy. A few toiletries and makeup items. Lot of Kleenex in her wastebasket. Offhand, I’d say she or her roommate shed quite a few tears. And one A pair of glasses that had been broken in two across the nose piece.
“Lorry Preston is in the same room. One empty suitcase. One full, unopened. Mostly clothes. Some hanging, too. Not expensive. Not too fancy. Jeans and such. Dresses and skirts without labels. Looked hand sewn but well-made. Toiletries and makeup, but not much. A Bible and other religious books, some music books, and a diary. Apparently she feels an interest in someone she met this weekend, and it bothers her. There seems to be someone back home she’s not sure whether to marry or not.
“That leaves Bart Brodie. He’s in an apartment above the garage. Interesting. Some very expensive items. Also some very cheap ones. Several books of poetry. Browning seems to be a favorite. Some copies of somewhat, ah, explicit magazines.” He looked at Ryan when he said this. “Two hundred dollars in a wallet with his clothes. A couple of bottles of Scotch and two glasses. Same label as
the Scotch in the house. Also same glasses. A packet of business letters about some kind of scheme for selling condos in Florida. Looks like it went bust.
“We also checked the bathrooms and the servants’ rooms, and the kitchen. Nothing unusual. You can see the complete list after we’ve finished off the main floor. Thought we’d do it while they’re eating.”
“The grounds?” Manziuk asked.
“No indication anyone came in from outside. Neighbors saw nothing. Looks like an inside job to me. Not much help in the garden. You got that daisy chain thing?”
Manziuk nodded.
“Nothing shows on that path. No deep scuff marks or anything. Victim doesn’t appear to have put up much of a struggle.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, we were looking for the murder weapon. We found two possibilities.” He held up a plastic bag containing what looked like a black braided cord.
“What is it?” asked Manziuk, taking the bag to have a closer look at its contents.
“It’s the cord off a housecoat. Frankly, it was the only thing I saw that looked like a possibility. There were a lot of belts and scarves and such. But Dr. Munsen said something about a smooth rope. Well, there it is.”
Ryan was leaning forward, across the desk. “I’ve got a cord like that on some lounging pajamas. It’s made of polyester or something, but it’s braided like a rope. It would leave marks like a rope, but it wouldn’t be abrasive.”
“Where did you find this?” Manziuk demanded.
Ford consulted his notebook. “It was with the clothes belonging to George Brodie. A sort of kimono-style silk robe.”
“And the other possibility?”
“Well, it’s not any one thing in particular. There’s a type of cord used in the garden. It’s beige, but it’s not twine. It’s more like a smooth twisted cord. Maybe even cotton. It’s used a lot. In some places, it’s holding up plants tied to stakes. In a number of places, it’s used to hold together little water fountain things. Like the one where the body was found. And in a few places, it’s used to hold weights.” Ford shook his head. “We couldn’t make it out. Looks like whoever tied them there is trying to pull the branches down by weighting them. Never saw the likes of it.”
“Did you find a loose piece of the cord?”
“Not yet, but we’re looking for it.”
“See if Mrs. Winston knows where the gardener would keep extra cord. Get a sample from somewhere and get both cords to Munsen right away.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any other surprises you’ve been holding back?”
“That’s it. I’ll have the itemized lists for you by morning. This looks like a real dilly. Of course, the cord and the note may be all you need.”
Manziuk nodded. “Could be.”
“Need me for anything more?”
“No. Finish up here and then go home and get eight hours. We’ll see how things pan out in the morning. Oh, there is one other thing. Get Moffatt looking through our files to see if we have anything on these people. Check them all. Noon tomorrow will be good.”
“Will do.”
When he was gone, Ryan asked, “Do you think Nick Donovan wrote that note? The bit about ‘this time’ sounds like him. She got away once.”
“It certainly sounds like something he could have written. It was done on a typewriter, not a computer.” He walked over to the corner table, where a Selectric typewriter sat under wraps. “This one, I expect.”
“He was still in love with her and she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. Maybe laughed at him. So he killed her. You saw what he was like. Distracted. Didn’t seem to be all here. And his alibi is pathetic.” Her voice became animated. “‘One of us must have been mistaken about which garden.’ Give me a break!”
“Maybe.”
“You’re not satisfied?”
“I don’t like things to fall into place too easily. Takes the challenge out of it.”
She rolled her eyes.
Fortunately, there was a knock on the door and Mrs. Winston appeared with a tray, followed by Crystal with a second. Manziuk and Ryan set themselves to eating. She finished first and busied herself with her notes. At last she looked up. “Okay, here it is.”
“Alibis?”
“Uh huh. Want to hear them?”
He moved his chair closer so he could see the paper she had been writing on. He laughed. “Alphabetical?”
She didn’t reply. “She was last seen at about three-thirty, so I’ve just looked for where people were starting then.”
Bart Brodie — walking with Shauna from about 3:00 to 4:00
Ellen Brodie — napping in her room from 3:35 till 4:00
George Brodie — in the billiard room for a few minutes after 3:30, and then in his study talking to Kendall until about 3:45 and sending e-mail on his computer until Lorry arrived after 4:00
Kendall Brodie — came out of his room about 3:30, went to his dad’s study to talk. About 3:45, he went to find Lorry Preston in the music room and they went to the garden.
Nick Donovan — in rose garden 3:20 to 3:45, walked to the Japanese garden with Kendall & Lorry 3:45 to 4:00
Anne Fischer — asleep in room the whole time
Douglass Fischer — reading in room from just before 3:30 until 4:00
Peter Martin — asleep in bedroom from just after 3:30 until 4:05
Lorry Preston — playing piano (heard by several others) until Kendall came in at 3:45, went for walk
Hildy Reimer — out front alone until 4:00, heard clock ring hour as she came in
Shauna Jensen—walking with Bart from 3:00 until after 4:00
Mrs. Winston — in kitchen
Crystal Winston — in kitchen except maybe for a couple of brief trips to pick up dirty dishes
“Well, isn’t that terrific?” Manziuk said. “Other than Bart and Shauna, the only ones who weren’t alone for at least a few minutes are George and Kendall Brodie and the Fischers, and being father and son and a married couple, none of them would likely hesitate to lie for each other. So there’s not one out of the lot of them that couldn’t have done it! Well, Lorry appears to have been heard playing the piano by several people, but that’s not to say even she couldn’t have whipped out, killed Jillian, and got back to the room without anyone noticing. You don’t pay that much attention to music you hear in the background. Or she could have even set up a tape to fill in. So none of them are out of this.”
He circled the desk, then stopped. “Here, let’s time this. You set your watch. I’m going to sneak out of the house into the garden, strangle someone, and sneak back here. Let’s see how long it would take me.”
So saying, he went out.
When he came back into the room, Ryan looked up. “Eight minutes,” she said. “And a lot of luck. It’s amazing somebody didn’t see him, with all the people in this house.”
“A lot of people, yes, but things seem to have been pretty quiet for those particular moments.”
“But how could the murderer have known that?”
“Luck,” Manziuk replied. “Or maybe he was seen.”
“You mean someone might know more than he told us? Other than the murderer, of course.”
A smile touched Manziuk’s lips. “I’d guess at least half the people kept something back on purpose. And the other half kept something back without realizing it was of importance.”
“That many?”
“That’s normal. Well, we’ll just have to see what we can do. I wish there was at least one with an iron-clad alibi. Then all we’d have to do is break it. But this mess!” Manziuk threw up his hands. “I don’t think we can rule anyone out in terms of opportunity. So now we look at possible motives. Lorry also has no motive whatsoever, so, given she’s neither an impostor or a maniac, I think we’ll skip her for the time being. George, again, has no real motive. You don’t strangle your partner’s wife merely because she annoys you. Ellen—nothing I can see. Kendall had never met her befo
re this weekend. Bart hadn’t met her, although he seems to have enjoyed getting her upset. But I can’t see why he’d murder her. Unless, of course, he knew her from somewhere else. But that would seem like an awful coincidence given Nick’s story. Anne dislikes her, even hates her, but enough for murder? Ditto Hildy. Her sister? I don’t know. Could be something there. Douglass Fischer—is he telling the truth or not? Then there’s Peter Martin, the husband. Or Nick Donovan. He looks the most obvious. He was in love with her once and she refused to marry him. The letter refers back to the past. He could have known about the cord from the bathrobe, if that is the murder weapon, because he’s likely visited with the Brodies before.”
“But the note was found in the Fischers’ room,” Ryan protested. That doesn’t make sense. And despite Douglass Fischer’s denial, I think something was going on between him and Jillian Martin. And his wife thought so, too.”
“So you think one of the Fischers could have done it?”
“Why not?”
“Who else?”
Ryan thought for a moment. “Peter Martin, I guess, but there doesn’t seem to be a strong enough motive for him.”
“Anybody else?”
“Well, there’s Shauna Jensen. She had good cause to hate her sister, if you believe Lorry Preston. But she was with Bart Brodie. Unless, maybe they knew each other from before. Maybe it was all part of a planned-out scheme.”
“Now you’re starting to think like a cop,” Manziuk said.
She stared at him. “You really think Bart and Shauna could have been working together?”
“No, but you have to look at all kinds of options. Never take anything or anybody at face value. Who else?”
“Well, Hildy Reimer. Why was she really here? And why did she have a gun?”
“Okay. So now we have a starting list of suspects with Nick Donovan at the top of the list. So we go back to the station and get these notes typed up. Then we go over them with a fine tooth comb and come up with a list of questions we need to ask to clarify things. For instance, why did Hildy have a gun? How drunk was Anne Fischer when her husband went upstairs?”
Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) Page 20
