“What are you doing here, Hutchers? You have no right busting in here--” Percy stepped in front of Lily. Hutchers and Percy moved closer to each other, facing off.
“And you have no right shielding a person wanted for murder. I came here right after they booked that freak. I had a sneaking feeling you were hiding something….or someone.”
“Come on, you know Lily didn’t do it, Hutchers. Use your brain.” Percy challenge was said with exasperation.
“You’re the one who convinced me the guy in the tunnel couldn’t have done it. So we’re back to her.” He looked over Percy’s shoulder and pointed at Lily standing in front of the kitchen door, not moving.
The sound of Oliver’s footsteps thudding down the building’s hallway stopped Percy’s reply. She hurried toward the front door. Boy and dog raced inside and scooted around her, only stopping when coming toe to toe with Hutchers.
Confused, Oliver looked around him, but knew something was happening. The dog came closer to Oliver and sat at his feet. Both looked up at the statue-still man.
“Oliver,” said Percy. “Take Fred into the bedroom and put your pajamas on. I’ll be right in.”
Oliver picked up the leash, looked up at the burly man standing beside him, and went into Percy’s bedroom leading the dog without saying a word.
“What’s going on around here, anyway?” asked Sera. “Every time I walk in this door, something’s going on around here.”
“Sera, go help Oliver into his pajamas and keep the dog off the bed, would you?” Percy said.
“Sure, sure. Trying to get me out of the way, but I don’t take offense.” Sera scurried into Percy’s bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
“Hutchers, Lily in innocent --” Percy began.
Hutchers shook a finger in Percy’s face and interrupted her. “You need to shut up. I should run you in right now for aiding and abetting a criminal. But I’m not going to unless you give me trouble. I’m going to say I apprehended this Waller dame as she was approaching your apartment.”
He turned to Lily. “You get your coat; you’re coming with me.” His attention went back to Percy. “You, don’t press your luck.” He looked over Percy’s shoulder at the small brunette, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Get your hat and coat, Miss Waller, like I said. You’re under arrest.”
“Listen, Hutchers, Lily didn’t kill the elf. I’ve almost got the proof. Give me another twenty-four hours, please, and I’ll give you your real killer.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Perce. You keep talking, I’m going to run you in, too. Let’s go, Waller. Right now before I get mad.”
Percy stepped nose to nose with him, as Lily made a move to the coat rack. “Sometimes you can be so stupid, Hutchers. I know you’re sore at me and I suppose you’ve got every right to be, but--”
Lily laid a hand on Percy’s arm. “It’s all right, Miss Cole. I’m willing to go.” She turned a pleading face to Hutchers. “I just hope I’m not in there too long.”
Percy blocked her way for the moment. “I’ll have you out before morning, I promise. But right now I’m going to have to do something you’re not going to like, Lily. I want to say I’m sorry about it upfront and get it out of the way.” She stared down at the girl.
Lily gulped then nodded, but said nothing. As she turned around to remove her apron and don her coat, Percy turned on the detective saying in a low voice,
“Hutchers, she’s pregnant. Don’t take your anger at me out on her. Don’t scare her or be any nastier than you have to be. You don’t want her losing her baby.”
Hutchers eyes opened wide at the pronouncement, but he didn’t say a word. After a second, he nodded in agreement. He turned to Lily and his voice was gentler.
“Okay, Miss,” he said touching her arm, “Come with me, please.”
Lily turned to Percy, barely able to mask her fear.
“You’ll be out by morning, Lily, I promise.” Percy felt the need for reiteration. “Just hang on until then.”
Lily tried to smile and managed a nod of her head. Percy watched them leave then shut the door.
And there goes five thousand smackers, too. Crap.
Chapter Twenty-three
Percy shut the motor off and starred at number Sixty-five Beekman Place. A three-story, red brick townhouse, it looked polished and elegant with its gleaming white trim. Window boxes and planters filled with hardier winter flowers, ivy, and evergreens lined the walkway and front porch. Even in the catches of winter, the streetlights showed a residence long on grooming and care, unlike most of the places Percy frequented.
Her hand reached inside the glove compartment and drew out the World War One pistol, a German Lugar semi-automatic. Percy’s uncle had brought it back as a souvenir from the Great War, leaving it to her in his will. Well-oiled, she’d maintained it as impeccably as the landscaping she saw before her. Percy got out of the car and headed for the white, brass-trimmed door on the house. She reached inside her jacket, tucking the gun into the belt of her pants, a belt she’d taken back from her son and dog.
The polished and ornate brass handle gleamed in the light cast from the two frosted lights hanging on the wall on either side of the door. She fisted the knocker and banged it three times, hearing the sound resonate from inside. While Percy waited for the door to open, she read her wristwatch. Nine-thirty. Too late to call at someone’s home, Emily Post would say.
But Emily Post isn’t looking for a killer. All bets are off when you’re looking for a murderer.
The door open slightly and a graying man of about sixty-five, impeccably dressed in a black suit, peered through the crack. He had an imperious look on his face. “Yes? May I help you?”
“You must be Hanson. Your bosses around?”
The man studied the woman, a look of distain crossing his face. His expression turned to puzzlement, but he did not open the door any wider. “I’m afraid the Wallers are dining and cannot be disturbed.”
“That would be Waller senior and Waller junior, right?” Before the butler could answer, Percy pushed at the front door with both hands. Hanson lost his balance and took a step or two backward. Percy stepped inside.
“Now see here,” Hanson said severely. “You cannot push your way in. Just who do you think you are?”
“I know who I am buster. Do you?” Percy moved around him and into the foyer. A quick glance around caused her to say, “Nice digs. The dining room this way?” She took large strides down the hallway toward a well-lit room.
Trying to keep up, Hanson sputtered. “See here, madam, you cannot disturb them --” Hanson interrupted himself as they both entered the dining room, he coming to a short stop at the threshold.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Percy said in a loud voice.
Both father and son sat opposite one another at one end of a mammoth dining room table, dark wood gleaming under the light of a crystal chandelier. In front of each man sat an elaborate set of plate ware and dining utensils. Silver and crystal goblets sparkled on two individual brocade placemats. Otherwise, the immense table was bare. The two men turned to her in surprise.
“So this is how the other half lives. I’ll bet you still need some Pepto Bismol now and then.”
The younger Waller was the first to recover and half rose from the table. “Miss Cole. I don’t understand. Do you have news of Lily?” The older Waller remained seated, eyes narrowed, mouth grim.
“Forgive the intrusion, boys, but this won’t take long. I --”
Hanson interrupted her with a snarl. “Should I call the police, Mr. Waller?” His question was directed at the senior Waller, who had yet to move. “I apologize, sir. I couldn’t keep her out.”
“Good idea! Let’s call the cops. Allow me,” Percy said, heading for the white French style phone resting on the end of a credenza. She picked up the phone and dialed zero.
“Miss Cole,” said William Waller, now standing in front of his chair. “What is the meaning -”
“
Shhh!” Percy put her finger to her lips then turned back to the phone but kept her eyes on the three men at the dining table. The other end answered.
“Hey, Matt. Persephone Cole here. How you doing? Uh-huh. Listen, is Hutchers there? Good. Tell him to get his duff and two of his finest over to Sixty-five Beekman Place right away. He has? Why has he been trying to reach me? I see. Well, he can talk to me when he gets here.”
She hung up the phone and turned back to the three staring men. “Before we get to anything else, gentlemen,” Percy said in a commanding voice, “I should tell you that Detective Hutchers arrested Lily for murdering Conrad Barnes about an hour ago. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
“Oh, my God,” William Waller said, falling back into his chair. He threw a white linen napkin on the table with determination. “We’ve got to save her. I can’t let her --” He stood again.
“Sit down, sit down. All in good time,” Percy ordered. “We need to have a talk first and we don’t have a lot of time.” She turned around and faced the butler standing behind her. “That means you, too, bub. Why don’t you go join your employers at the other end of the table?” She circled behind him. “Oh, that’s right. It’s just one employer. Singular. You work for the senior Waller only, don’t you? That leaves junior hanging out to dry most of the time, doesn’t it?”
The elder man, who had remained silent and motionless, finally spoke. His gaze never left Percy standing at the other end of the table. “Hanson, call the police back. Tell them I want to file charges against this woman for breaking and entering.”
Hanson made a move for the telephone. Percy reached inside her jacket and withdrew the pistol, brandishing it for all three men to see. Three startled men stared at her in horror.
“Sorry, gentlemen, but we’re going to have to sit tight for awhile and I want you three where I can see you at all times. The cops will be here in about ten minutes, anyway. You can tell them anything you want to then.” She turned back to Hanson, gesturing with the gun,
“Meanwhile, get back over there with those two, like I said.”
The butler’s face drained of color and he stumbled toward his master. He stood behind the senior Waller’s chair, gaping at Percy.
“Miss Cole, have you lost your mind?” William Waller stuttered, nonetheless sitting back down.
The elder man was quiet and unmoved by having a gun waved in his direction. Percy directed her stare at him.
“If I have, Bill, it wouldn’t be the first time,” she answered then turned to his father. “For the record, Mr. Waller, I can’t be arrested for breaking and entering. Your good man let me in, albeit a little reluctantly. Now I could get arrested for threatening you with a lethal weapon, but we’re going to see how our little conversation goes before we get to that and just who gets arrested for what.”
“What conversation?” William Waller looked from Percy to his father.
“I’m going to tell you both a story. Actually, I’m going to tell all three of you a story, because this involves you, too, Hanson. You see, this didn’t start the night the elf was killed.”
“What didn’t start?” William Waller spoke up again.
“Now, shush, Bill. Let me tell it my way and don’t interrupt me. I’ll get to it,” Percy ordered. “Does anybody call you Bill, I wonder? If not, they should. Might loosen you up a bit. Anyway, ten years ago your wife died, or should I say, your wife was murdered --” She left the rest of the sentence dangling.
“Murdered?” The son echoed the last word and it exploded in the still air.
“Yes, murdered, Bill. She was murdered in your house on Long Island. All this time, Lily thought you had done it.”
“Me?” His voice came out more like a squeak than a sound.
“Before you came in and found Lily with her mother, your daughter had cleaned the snow off the floor and window sill, closed the window, and covered her back up with a blanket.”
“Snow? What snow? I don’t under --”
“If you don’t let me finish, Bill, we’re going to be here all night.” Percy’s voice had an impatient air. “Let’s just say, all these years Lily thought it was you who opened the window and threw back the blankets on her drunken and sick mother that night, causing her to die the next day. When all the time, it was you,” she said, pivoting. Percy focused the nozzle of the gun on the elder Waller. Waller senior remained implacable, but Hanson gasped, and took a guilty step back.
“Well, I see Hanson knew about this, too,” Percy remarked. “As I’m sure he’s known about everything else. The trusted, helping hand. Ah, they don’t make dedicated servants like him, anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” William Waller’s voice was loud and firm. “Explain yourself, Miss Cole. My wife died of pneumonia from too much alcohol and not taking care of herself.”
“Let’s just say she had a little help. Actually, a lot of help.” Percy turned to his father. “Didn’t she, sir?”
“You can’t prove a thing,” Waller senior stated. He wore a faint smile, but his eyes were cold.
“Father! Father, why aren’t you denying these charges? I --” Young Waller broke off, staring at his father.
“Be quiet, William. Hanson, do something.” Waller senior waved a hand in the butler’s direction.
Percy let out a small laugh. “Boy, you two are ones for the book. The feudal system is alive and well around here,” Percy said, shaking her head.
Hanson made a move toward her. She leveled the pistol at him.
“Piece of advice, Hanson. Don’t come at me if you like all your body parts the way they are. I mean, I know you’d do just about anything – and have – for your boss, but I don’t think it involves getting shot.”
Hanson swallowed hard and retreated back behind the elder Hanson’s chair. Percy went on. “Besides, I’m not through talking yet and a good servant never interrupts. It’s rude.” She turned back to Lily’s father. “To continue, your wife’s murder, Bill, was only the first.”
“That’s ridiculous,” William Waller contradicted, his voice hesitant but skeptical. "I know Father didn’t like her, but why should he want my wife dead?”
Father and son looked at one another, as if there was no one else in the room. The elder man slammed his hand down on the table, rattling silver and crystal in a crescendo. He leaned across the table. The son drew back instinctively.
“William, you are so wanting, so inept. After all these years you have to ask why?” His voice was harsh and each word seemed to feed on the previous in hatred and contempt. “Why? You ask why? She was a harlot, a slut! Her wickedness made a mockery of our good name. I overheard the things she said to you. I listened to you whining, trying to reason with her. She passed out, you left her room, and I saw the opportunity. I took it, unlike you, you sniveling excuse for a man. I’m ashamed of you.”
William stared slack-jawed at his father for a moment before saying, “But, Father, I was planning on divorcing her. I told her so that night.”
The old man leaned in to stare his son down. “Do you think I was going to let you drag our family name through the newspapers with a divorce? The rumor mills were already alive with her despicable behavior. And you were so weak. You are so weak. She probably would have talked you into forgiving her, that sinful, tawdry woman. I was trying to salvage what remained of our reputation.”
“I can’t believe it,” William said slowly. “I simply can’t believe it. You killed Helen?” William gaped at his father.
“I did not kill her. She killed herself.” Senior Waller’s reply was infuriated in tone, as if he were talking to a person lacking in common sense.
“Some people aren’t going to look at it that way,” Percy interjected into the father-son conversation. “You helped Helen out by opening the window in her bedroom during a blizzard and uncovering her as she lay in a drunken stupor on her bed. Nature did the rest. In a lot of books, that’s second degree murder, gentlemen. The state frowns on peo
ple rushing somebody to meet their maker.”
“And all this time, Lily thought it was me?” William’s voice was filled with wonder.
“This gets better, Bill,” said Percy. “Or worse, take your pick. Skip to ten years later and the younger version of Helen, in your father’s opinion. A few nights ago Lily and Conrad, her new friend and lover, showed up here.”
“He was but one of many, that evil dwarf,” Senior Waller interrupted, spitting out the words.
Percy went on as if he hadn’t interrupted. “After a few drinks, Lily and Connie talk about having ‘relations’ in the window of the family jewelry store. Your father overhears them and decides to do something about her behavior. As he had her mother’s.”
The old man drew back his head, his chin nearly disappearing into his neck. He glanced away and was silent. Hanson looked like he might throw up.
“But Waller’s ticker is even in worse shape than ten years ago, so he really needs Hanson’s help this time, which he gets in spades. Odds are your father took the gun out of Lily’s handbag sometime when they were boozing it up here at the townhouse. He knows she carries, so it couldn’t have been too hard to find a moment, right, old man? I’ll bet we’re going to find your fingerprints all over the inside of her handbag. The cops are checking that now.”
She leaned closer to the stiff-backed man, but turned her face, addressing the son.
“When the two lovebirds leave, Frick and Frack here follow them to the jewelry store. They keep an eye on them through the plate glass window. He sees his chance to put the kibosh on the elf when Lily leaves the room to go to the bathroom. Not sure if that was the original plan. Maybe he planned on doing them both in, but this worked just as well. Kill the elf; Lily hangs for the crime. Might be Lily saved her life by going to the john.”
Percy stood up straight and looked at William, now pale and shaking. “He returns the revolver to her purse, while Hanson stuffs the body into the display window. It all probably takes less than a minute.” Percy wheels around to face the elder man. “How am I doing, old man?” She returns her gaze to William. “After the deed is done, they take off before Lily comes out of the bathroom, leaving her holding the bag; no pun intended. She panics and takes off, which plays perfectly into your father’s plan. There was one little problem, though. Your father and Hanson didn’t think anyone else saw them, but they were wrong.” She leaned in again, taunting the man.
Persephone Cole and the Christmas Killings Page 17
