Chapter 31
It was shortly before five o’clock on Tuesday afternoon when Sheriff Redmond called and asked Valerie if it was convenient for him to stop by. He arrived a short time later, accompanied by a state trooper and a plainclothes investigator. Miss Fallon showed them into the front parlor and Anne and Valerie joined them moments later. In a few minutes the hospitable innkeeper returned with lemonade and pastries. Placing the tray on a buffet cabinet, she quietly slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
“Our first question, Mrs. Ferguson, is how are you feeling?” asked the state investigator who had met her the previous morning in her hospital room.
“Well, thank you. Just scratches and bruises.” In return, she asked about Meg and Rosemary.
“Mrs. O’Neil is resting at the hospital, and her family is with her,” said Sheriff Redmond. “Physically, she wasn’t hurt, but she’s had a terrible shock and the doctor was concerned about her emotional state. He plans to release her in the morning.”
As Anne listened, he continued. “I wish I had more news about Mrs. Gordon. They operated on her arm and feel she’ll have full use of it with physical therapy, but she also has a concussion. I understand she’s regained consciousness, but they won’t know the extent of that injury until they do some tests. Thankfully, both women are alive and are being well cared for. Considering their ordeal, that’s good news. If you’re staying overnight, I’ll see what I can find out for you.”
While he was talking, Valerie listened from the sideboard where she poured and passed glasses of lemonade and pastries, first to her mother then to the officers. She then sat beside Anne on the sofa and held her hand.
Addressing Anne, the investigator began, “We know you made a statement at the hospital, but it will help if you can give us a little more information.”
“I’ll try.”
Anne told them she couldn’t describe the men because she didn’t see them. She was upstairs in her bedroom during the entire incident. Even so, they asked her numerous questions in their attempt to reconstruct the events of Saturday night.
“What time do you think it was when you became aware that they were in the house?” asked the official.
“I went upstairs shortly after ten. I’d taken a shower and was dressed for bed when I heard the gunshots and screams. Maybe ten-thirty, a little after.”
“What exactly did you do then?”
Anne then described her reaction, how she had put out her bedroom light and crept out onto the terrace and hid behind the back wall and waited. When she saw the car lights in the woods behind the house, she knew they were leaving but waited a long while before going downstairs.
“How many cars were there?”
Anne had not thought of it at the time, because she was so terrified, but now that she did she realized there were two. She was watching the first lights, assuming they were leaving, then she saw the second lights, both encircling the woods as they turned around.
“They must have driven up with their lights out,” said Jack. “Evidently the women didn’t see or hear them until they were in the house.”
“Hopefully, the other ladies can tell us how they got in,” said the investigator.
During the next half-hour, Anne answered more questions, detailing how she waited until morning and made her way through the woods behind the cabin to get to the church for help.
“It was your description of Mrs. Gordon’s vehicle and license plate number you gave my deputy at the hospital that helped catch them so quickly,” Sheriff Redmond told her.
Anne nodded silently, acknowledging his compliment but making no reply. She was still shaken by the violence that took Claire’s life and put Meg and Rosemary in the hospital. She knew those responsible had been caught; she had heard about it yesterday from the young deputy at the Lodge. Now as she learned more details, she was shocked that it was the youths in the cabin, the same ones who broke into the Lodge last April. She recalled how uneasy Claire had been every time they passed the cabin that weekend. They must have seen the women coming and going and decided to rob them Saturday night.
Physically, she was bruised and sore, but the physical pain couldn’t compare to the emotional pain that stabbed at her heart. She was grief-stricken, heart-broken and despondent, so unlike the lively, vibrant woman who arrived in Woodbridge Notch five days earlier.
Sheriff Redmond noticed Anne’s state of mind and decided to end the interview for now. Standing to leave, he was joined by the other officers as he thanked her for her cooperation. All three shook hands with both women as they left. It was the second of many such interviews in which Anne would be asked to recall the details of how she survived the horror of that night in the beautiful New Hampshire mountains.
Chapter 32
As Anne and Valerie sat in the gazebo on that golden September afternoon, Ed and Paul, accompanied by Drew and Beverly, were leaving Paul’s condo at the Jack O’ Lantern Resort to return to Marblehead. They had waited twenty-four hours for the medical examiner to release Claire’s body, during which time they coordinated arrangements with a local mortuary and the Crawford Funeral Home in Salem. Being a medical doctor, Paul had studied the ME’s official report, which listed the manner of death as homicide and the cause as gunshot wound to the heart.
Backing out of his driveway at the Jack, Paul headed for the Hammond Medical Clinic. Upon arrival he pulled the Lexus up beside the hearse from the Woodbridge Funeral Home, which was waiting at the emergency room door. Ed sat motionless in the car while his brother and son went in to release Claire’s body. It was sheer agony for the grieving widower to watch them put his beautiful, vivacious wife into the late-model gray vehicle. He wanted to ride with her, but knew that was not possible. Deep in thought about the woman he loved and lived with for forty-plus years, he wondered how he’d go on without her.
Paul drove out first, followed by the hearse, which in turn, was followed by Drew and Beverly. In tandem, they pulled onto Route 93 and headed south. It would be a long sad journey for the father and son as they escorted the body of the woman they loved back to Massachusetts.
Like Boston, the towns along the North Shore are rich in history. The Bensons moved to Marblehead shortly after their marriage and have lived there ever since. In this quaint city by the sea, residents don’t reflect on its history; they live it. At the time Salem was founded in 1626, it included much of the North Shore, including Marblehead and seven other nearby townships. A major seaport, the Salem Maritime National Historic Site is the only remaining intact waterfront from this country’s long-ago “age of sail.” It was, in fact, the first national historic site designated by Congress.
Salem had become a sprawling residential and tourist area that included a thriving downtown, multiple neighborhoods, parks and playgrounds, and the campus of Salem State University, the largest of nine schools that made up the state university system in Massachusetts. Its historic district featured the greatest concentration of 17th and 18th century buildings in America, but much of the city’s cultural identity reflected the location of the Salem Witch Trials of 1692, mentioned in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible.
On the other hand, Marblehead was a 3,700-acre rocky peninsula, very distinctive and fascinating. Since winning its independence from Salem in 1648, due mostly to a desire to escape the strict discipline of religious Puritans, the small seaside village became known for its rugged individualism. At the time, Marblehead, like Salem, was a prosperous fishing village. Later its attention turned from fishing to sailing. Marblehead Harbor has been both a fishing port and a starting port for numerous national and international sailing competitions.
An annual race between Halifax, Nova Scotia and Marblehead, which began in 1905, has continued to this day. And the yearly mid-summer Marblehead Race Week competition dating back to 1889 is still attracting yachtsmen from around the world. Marblehead, appropriately, has earned the title as the “Yachting Capital of the World.”
While the downtown landscape that tourists see is mostly narrow, crooked streets and tiny, odd-shaped houses of early fishermen now transformed into trendy shops and boutiques, the private homes in Marblehead’s residential neighborhoods are spacious and luxurious. For more than forty years, the large stone and shingle oceanfront home at 220 Bay Shore Drive has been the residence of the Edward Andrew Benson family.
After making arrangements at the funeral home in Salem, Paul brought his heart-broken brother back to that beautiful house that would never be the same without the woman who had made it a happy home for the family she loved and who loved her.
The funeral was held on Friday at the historic St. John’s Episcopal Church in Marblehead, which Claire and Ed joined soon after they moved to the North Shore. Claire was a “cradle Episcopalian,” and like many who honored the doctrines and traditions of the religious faith they embraced since childhood, she was not happy with some of the changes taking place in modern churches, including her own. Ed, too, though not born into the Anglican community, loved St. John’s, which welcomed him and his bride as newlyweds. It was here that Drew was baptized, attended Bible school and served as acolyte for five years. His marriage to Beverly was performed before its beautiful altar, bringing tears to Claire’s eyes and enormous pride to the father of the groom. Like families everywhere, church was an important part of the Benson family’s lives.
On this September morning, bright with autumn sunshine, family and friends gathered to say goodbye to a woman who meant so much to them, as wife, mother, friend, and philanthropist, a woman who loved and was loved by many. The church pews were filled and additional chairs were added along the center aisle. In addition, the overflow of more than one hundred was seated in the parish hall where a large screen and sound system had been set up. An entire quarter of the sanctuary was filled with Red Hatters, not only from Claire’s chapter and those of Anne, Meg and Rosemary, but others in the Boston area who knew and loved Claire. They presented a dramatic scene in their beautiful red hats and purple ensembles, as they sat quietly and teary-eyed during the service.
Anne and Valerie attended the funeral, but they did not sit with the Red Hatters, nor did Anne wear her traditional Red Hat colors.
“I think they’ll understand,” she had said to Valerie. And no doubt they did. She, too, was a Red Hat mourner at this service for Claire, but it had much more meaning to her than it did to any of the others. She was there when it happened. Claire was dead, Meg was still in the hospital, and Rosemary was recovering at Brad’s home in Wellesley. She was the only one who could represent them all. She couldn’t bring herself to put on one of her bright red hats and purple outfits, which had always meant happy playtimes with girlfriends. The others could, and she understood. They wore their colors to honor Claire who, in the realm of the Red Hat Sisterhood, was a Queen in the true sense of the word. If circumstances had been different, she’d be seated with the others as she and Claire had done at another Red Hatter’s funeral. But not today, not at this funeral. Ed had asked her to sit with the family. Today she sat quietly with Valerie behind him and Drew, sharing their profound grief and sadness.
During the service, family members and friends shared stories and anecdotes about Claire. Ed, the grieving widower, did not speak, but Drew spoke briefly. Between heart-breaking sobs, he spoke of the love and kindness Claire had shown him all his life.
“From the time I was little, she always encouraged me,” he began tearfully. “No matter what I did or wanted to do, she would always listen and ‘help me decide.’ I say ‘help me decide,’ because she seemed to see problems and issues that I didn’t, and we’d discuss them, then she’d let me decide. She was a wonderful mother and I loved her. She was also my best friend. I love you, Mom, and always will.”
Paul was the next to speak. With a quiet, solemn demeanor, he looked directly at his older brother and said, “Ed, I know it hurts in a way I can’t fully comprehend because I’ve never been there. I know it’s unfair that you lost Claire in such a tragic way and I can only say I’m so very sorry and that I’m here for you. All these people who are here today knew and loved the woman who was your wife. The woman who loved only you as a woman truly loves a man. Be thankful for that. For all the wonderful times you shared. Hug those memories, Big Brother. She’s with you still. She’ll always be with you in spirit, and someday you’ll see her again.” In closing, he looked down at the flower-draped white casket and said, “We love and miss you, Claire. Until we meet again, Sweetheart.”
As he left the pulpit, there was not a dry eye in the church, not in the sanctuary, and no doubt not even in the parish hall.
Others who spoke included a physician from Brookhaven, three members of the church and the Vice Queen from Meg’s chapter, as Claire’s own Vice Queen was too emotionally distraught to speak.
Dr. Roland Atkins, Director of Oncology, thanked Ed and praised Claire for her contributions to the cancer institute.
“Not only for her generous donations,” he said, “but also for her many hours of volunteer service. She was wonderful with the children and they all loved her, especially when she dressed as Santa’s elf and passed out presents at our Christmas parties.”
The church members, a man and two women, spoke of the projects she worked on throughout the years. For three years in a row, she chaired their major fund-raiser, the fall festival, each year overseeing the numerous committees whose dedication and hard work resulted in generous contributions to area charities. She was also on the flower guild and made beautiful floral arrangements for weddings and special services. And she helped out both as a Bible school teacher and a kitchen worker at church dinners.
“She was truly a ‘church lady’ who loved our church,” said Annette Gilford, who chaired the Women of the Church that year. “Whatever we asked her to do, she did it willingly and she did it right. We loved her and we’ll miss her. There’s no doubt about that.”
Sylvia Grant, who spoke on behalf of the Red Hatters in attendance, also spoke of Claire in glowing terms.
“Claire Benson was one of the finest women I know,” she began. “I’ve known her and Meg Gordon for almost thirty years. They got me to join the Red Hatters and Meg made me her Vice Queen. I’ve worked with them on several programs and it’s always been a lot of fun. Claire always comes up with fun things to see and do and I understand she invited Meg and the other two Queens up to plan a mystery trip for all our chapters. I’m not sure that will ever happen now, but it shows that they were good organizers and we always have fun when chapters get together.”
As she hesitated, searching for something more to say about Claire, she decided to end her remarks on a cheerful note. Removing her beautiful red hat and raising it high in the air, she said with a flair, “We bid farewell and tip our red hats to our wonderful friend, Claire Benson, Queen of Boston’s Bean Town Beauties.”
Her action had the desired effect as chuckles and laughter filled the sanctuary and the adjoining parish hall. As she returned to her pew, people nodded and smiled at her, some seeing for the first time the fun and loving friendships women enjoy as bonded members of the Red Hat Sisterhood.
Anne did not speak at the service, but followed the procession to the Longview Memorial Gardens where Claire was laid to rest in the family plot. She and Valerie then joined the smaller group of relatives and close friends at the Benson home on Bay Shore Drive for a short time before leaving for the airport to catch Valerie’s six o’clock flight to Atlanta.
As she prepared to leave, Anne sought out Ed, who was in the kitchen with Paul and one of the doctors who had been with him at the Jack O’ Lantern. Slipping her arm through Ed’s, she asked with a touch of shared sadness in her voice, “How are you doing, Ed?”
He squeezed her hand and said, “I’m doing the best I can, Anne,” then repeated, “I’m doing the best I can.” He then asked, “And you?”
“The same,” she answered, shaking her head slowly. “It’s so sad. We all loved h
er. She touched the lives of many people, all for the good. We loved her,” she said again. Reaching up and planting a kiss on his cheek, she added, “and you, too, Ed. Take care of yourself. Call me if there’s ever anything I can do for you or Drew.”
“Thanks, Anne. You’ve been a good friend, and she loved her friends. I think you know that.”
Anne nodded, and smiled weakly as she turned to join Valerie, waiting in the doorway.
After dropping Valerie off under the Delta departure sign at Logan Airport, Anne drove home alone to Cape Ann. As she reflected on the day’s events, she found it difficult to absorb all that had happened in the brief span of one week. Last Friday at this time she was with her three friends in Claire’s beautiful mountain home planning a mystery trip for their Red Hat chapters. Today they laid Claire to rest beside her parents in the memorial gardens in Marblehead. Meg was still at the Hammond Medical Clinic, where she would remain for another week recovering from surgery. Rosemary, too, was on her mind as she drove deep in thought along the familiar highway that would take her to her home on Cape Ann.
Chapter 33
Rosemary was resting quietly at the home of Brad’s family in Wellesley on the day of Claire’s funeral. After two days at the Hammond Medical Clinic, her fragile emotional condition showed signs of improvement under the care of the attending psychiatrist, and he released her to the care of her sons.
Like Valerie, they had gone to the Lodge earlier in the week for Rosemary’s things, which they claimed under the watchful eye of a deputy. Russell retrieved her red Camaro from the portico and followed behind Brad, as he drove their mother to the comfort and safety of his home in Wellesley near Boston’s Charles River. The brothers were very concerned about her emotional and physical well-being. They ached at the thought of her having witnessed the violence that took her friend’s life and would do everything possible to help her recover from the tragedy. But they knew her inner world would never be the same.
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