by Gwen Moffat
‘I think in Val’s case it’s opportunism. He seized his chance. What I’ve seen of the fellow, and the way people speak of him, suggests a petty criminal, a thief, opportunist — all of those, not a murderer, not one who can plan. That takes strength of character.’
‘You have someone in mind?’
‘I’m not trying to squeeze someone into the frame. I’m saying Byer doesn’t fit the role, unless there’s something we don’t know.’
‘What we don’t know is the hold he has over Val.’
Miss Pink went to bed grateful that Sophie was virtually stupefied by fatigue and bourbon. If she’d had her wits about her she would have realised that if you ruled out Byer for Charlie’s death — and Skinner? — the spotlight came back to the family. But Hilton had shown an interest in Skinner. It was her last thought as she drifted to sleep. And her first in the morning.
‘Tell me about Paul Skinner,’ she demanded, coming into the kitchen. ‘Skinner and Byer are friendly, if not friends, and Charlie said Skinner was a thief and responsible for the death of his second wife?’
Sophie handed her a mug of coffee the colour of molasses. ‘Skinner had an alibi,’ she said. ‘He was in Ballard when his wife was drinking in Irving. Or so it was said. He was never charged, you know. You figure he’d have what you call the strength of character for murder?’
‘With Charlie he has a motive.’
‘No. He has no claim on the family, no bond. Unlike Sam. Hilton might suggest Sam has a motive because he’s the father of an heiress.’
‘I wasn’t thinking in terms of money but hate: revenge for the slander that he murdered his wife and made Jen pregnant, was even her father. We considered a fight between Bret and Charlie, why not between Paul and Charlie? A fight, a shooting and the “accident” rigged with the stallion.’
‘Impossible. How could you hoist a corpse on to Ali’s back? Remember how spooky he was. And then you have to twist Charlie’s foot in the stirrup so it wouldn’t come out and Ali would be standing still all this time, allowing you to do it? Come on, Mel!’
Miss Pink was unperturbed. ‘Suppose Byer and Skinner acted in collusion. Hilton never saw Ali before. The horse is as quiet as a lamb now, he remarked on it; I had the feeling he didn’t believe your insistence that Ali was wild before Charlie’s death.’
Sophie breathed hard. ‘It removes suspicion from the family.’
‘It brings two more people into the frame,’ Miss Pink corrected.
They soon learned how Hilton was thinking. They were sitting over French toast and Cooper’s Oxford when Clyde rang to say that Bret Ryan had been taken in for questioning.
13
Hilton worked out of Irving and that was where Bret had been taken. Jen was frantic and had called Val to ask about securing the services of the family’s lawyer. Val had dissuaded her, dismissing any suggestion that Bret could be in trouble. She did say she was going to Irving this morning and would have a word with the lawyer herself. Val had called Clyde to inform him of this latest development and he rang Sophie. It appeared that Val viewed the matter with more urgency than she’d intimated to her daughter because when Sophie phoned the homestead there was no answer. ‘Left for Irving already,’ she told Miss Pink. ‘Now what do we do? If they suspect Bret, they have to be thinking Jen’s in there with him. Collusion, Hilton told you. But it’s impossible. Bret’s a plain, simple guy and Jen would never —’ She shook her head, unable to finish it.
‘An accident,’ Miss Pink said, adding quickly, ‘at the worst.’
‘You suggested a quarrel. Maybe Charlie did shoot himself — during a fight.’ Sophie’s face lit up.
‘His rifle wasn’t discharged.’
‘A pistol then. He drew a pistol — they were quarrelling, Charlie threatened Bret, both of them shouting — Ali reared, Charlie was thrown and shot himself, and Ali bolted. There! It could have happened that way.’
It wasn’t a good moment to point out that no pistol had been found.
*
Glenaffric’s kitchen was full of bustle, two large women in overalls at the sinks, Edna setting down a tray of glasses — ‘How nice to see you again, Melinda. Did you come for a ride? Sorry about the mess; we’re going to buy a dishwasher. Isn’t that neat?’ A vacuum whined and growled in the passage.
‘Coffee?’ Sophie said meaningly.
They took it to Edna’s bedroom. She was full of chatter, raising the blinds, smoothing the bedspread. ‘The women have finished in here,’ she told Miss Pink. ‘Nancy — she’s the one doing the vacuuming — she’s persuaded me to take it easy; why, she wouldn’t let me make my bed. She did it. They’re very thoughtful.’
Miss Pink murmured agreement. Sophie said harshly, ‘We have to talk. Where’s Clyde?’
‘He’s down with your horses, dear. Didn’t you see him?’
‘We didn’t stop, and the herd’s up the back. Is that where Val is?’
‘No, she went to Irving. She asked Clyde to check on Ali and the others.’
‘For heaven’s sakes, Edna, couldn’t you stop her dashing off like that? How does it look to the police?’
Edna smiled sweetly. ‘She hasn’t gone to the police; she has to fetch some feed and she’s going to look in on Mr Seaborg.’ She turned to Miss Pink. ‘That’s our lawyer. There’s so much business to attend to at a time like this; not that anything’s settled as yet but my daughter is bothered about taxes and stuff. I don’t understand any —’
‘Edna!’ Sophie was beside herself. ‘She’s not seeing Seaborg about taxes, she’s consulting him about Bret.’
‘Bret?’ Edna looked surprised. ‘What does he have to do with Mr Seaborg? Nice manners,’ she resumed to Miss Pink. ‘He was here yesterday — Bret, I mean, not Mr Seaborg, although he was here too, of course, he came to read the will and stayed for champagne. I had the will right, Charlie hadn’t changed it. We brought the Veuve Clicquot up from the cellar, Sophie — oh, but you were here! Stupid of me. Nicely dressed, too, and he takes his hat off indoors.’ She nodded happily. ‘I’m pleased. Jen’s gotten herself a good man there.’
‘Bret’, Sophie said, ‘is being questioned as a suspect in Charlie’s death. Now did I get through to you?’
‘You always have to dramatise everything.’ Again that sweet smile and, turning back to Miss Pink: ‘Bret and Jen live at Benefit. That’s an old ghost town at the back of the canyon rim.’ She must have been told that Miss Pink had been at or near Benefit several times. ‘And that’s one of the trail-heads for our hunting camp,’ she went on. ‘Anyone going into the back country has to leave his rig at Benefit and ride from there. So the police need to ask Bret who passed that day, or maybe in the days before the accident, because they could have gone in and set up camp some place.’
‘Did Clyde tell you this?’ Sophie asked. ‘Or did you make it up yourself?’
‘She always treated me like the kid sister,’ Edna told Miss Pink. ‘She’s five years older than me. Actually, Byer told me.’
‘You’re getting worse.’ Sophie shook her head in despair. ‘Tell me, how do you feel in yourself?’
‘Free,’ Edna said, and looked pleased with the word. ‘The atmosphere’s less strained. Nancy was remarking on it: “You got no one to consider now except yourself,” she said. And Kay’s a good cook, I should let her fix me some fancy meals for a change. “What’s the use of having maids if you’re going to work yourself,” Nancy said. So kind, treating me like an invalid. I’ve told them to go home at noon, make a long weekend of it; they worked so hard yesterday: all the baking and then waiting on the company.’
‘So you’ll be alone over the weekend,’ Sophie said.
‘No. Clyde will be here, and Byer.’
‘Byer has weekends off. Clyde won’t be here at night. Come to my place for a few days.’
‘This is my home,’ Edna said with dignity. ‘It wouldn’t be right to abandon it so soon —’
‘I’m not suggesting —’
‘Homes are like people. They demand loyalty. I’ll come later, dear. Besides’ — her eyes shone — ‘the house belongs to Jen now; I’m a kind of custodian.’
*
‘It hasn’t penetrated,’ Sophie said. They had stopped on their way to the car to watch a leggy foal skip jerkily round its mother.
‘It could be shock. It’s less than a week since Charlie died — and violently at that. Violence always intensifies the shock of bereavement.’
‘I don’t see any signs of shock in her.’
‘That kind doesn’t show. It goes too deep.’
‘I hear what you’re saying but — hello, here’s Byer. So he’s working up here and Clyde’s down at the homestead. Everything’s at sixes and sevens today. Now what?’
Byer was approaching with deliberation. He nodded casually to Miss Pink. ‘Any news?’ he asked Sophie.
Miss Pink turned towards the brood mares, ostensibly excluding herself from the exchange.
‘News of what?’ Sophie asked, hedging.
‘Have they charged Ryan?’
‘With what? He’s helping the police just.’
‘He don’t have nothing to do with it.’
Miss Pink stiffened but they were too intent on each other to notice. After a long pause Sophie asked, ‘So who has?’
‘It weren’t Ryan. Nor Jen. Nor Val.’ He seemed to be enjoying himself.
Miss Pink turned. ‘It was Clyde,’ she said flatly.
‘No!’ He was startled at the intervention but behind the surprise she sensed something else. Fear? ‘It weren’t family at all,’ he blurted. ‘I know. Charlie talked to me.’
‘Of course he did — and he told you someone was gunning for him, right?’
Sophie was gaping, looking from her to Byer. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘It were some property developer —’ He stopped.
‘A land sale,’ Miss Pink stated. ‘It went wrong.’
He nodded eagerly. ‘Worth millions. The guy figured he had a raw deal. Lost everything — he were bankrupt. Said he was gonna get Charlie.’
‘He put out a contract on Charlie?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘Have you told the police this?’
He shuffled his feet. ‘I don’t want to get involved. I’ve been in trouble: just cars, no insurance and stuff. I keep my head down.’
‘It can’t be true,’ Sophie said as they drove towards the homestead. ‘Charlie’d never talk to him about an important land deal.’
‘No, but he might have spun him a tale about someone gunning for him. Alternatively, Byer could have fabricated the story to relieve the pressure on Bret — and, by association, on Jen.’
‘You’re saying Byer’s suffered a sea change towards the family, or it’s just that he doesn’t want to lose his job?’
‘Neither. It’s that he can’t employ blackmail if Bret or Jen, or both, are charged with homicide. He wants Bret off Hilton’s hook and back on his own. Byer’s out for Number One as usual.’
‘He wasn’t blackmailing Jen or Bret. It was Val.’
‘So it was.’ Miss Pink became thoughtful.
‘Will he go to the police about this so-called property deal?’
‘No, he’ll expect you to do that. He knows you’ll leap at any opportunity to keep Jen and Bret in the clear. Are you stopping at the homestead?’
‘You bet. I want to hear some sense after listening to my kid sister’s maunderings. “Homes demand loyalty” indeed!’
*
Clyde was cagey at first. They’d come on him leading Ali across the yard towards a saddled horse. ‘Val wants him taken to Glenaffric,’ he told them, eyeing Miss Pink warily.
Sophie frowned. ‘Why? He’s better off here. Why does Val want to be rid of him?’
‘She said she may be away some time.’
Sophie turned to Miss Pink in alarm. ‘She meant overnight?’ Miss Pink asked.
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He was tense.
‘She’s giving herself up!’ Sophie said wildly.
‘Heh! I didn’t say that! She meant —’ Again that cautious glance at the visitor. He turned back to his aunt and took a deep breath. ‘She never left me all the time we were clearing the trail,’ he stated. ‘Not once; no more’n five minutes, I mean.’ He looked from one to the other, defiant as a small boy.
Sophie appealed to Miss Pink who said calmly, ‘I’m not sure about the law here, but Hilton would probably view that testimony in the same light as he would that of a spouse.’
‘Like Jen giving Bret an alibi,’ Sophie explained, in case he didn’t get it.
Ali was nuzzling Clyde’s shoulder. He put up a hand to the soft lips. The defiance faded and the lines in his face relaxed. They made an impressive picture: the ageing Adonis and the sorrel with the shining eyes — much more alert today — back to normal? What was in Val’s mind, handing the animal over to Edna? ‘You could be right,’ Miss Pink said. ‘She may be expecting to be away a long time. She could have gone to the police.’
‘There’s bail,’ Sophie pointed out. ‘That will be why —’
‘Bail!’ Clyde was enraged. ‘I told you! She was with me all —’
‘You’re as bad as your mother,’ his aunt told him, ‘refusing to face the facts. You figure your word stands for proof where the police are concerned — and now there’s Byer saying a developer put out a contract on Charlie. You’re all crazy.’
‘Byer said what?’
Sophie gestured impatiently. ‘It was just a story to get Hilton off Bret’s back.’
He pushed up his hat and wiped his forehead. ‘Byer never said anything to me.’
‘It’s a lie, Clyde.’
‘I’d have thought he’d want Bret jailed. They never hit it off. I’d never expect him to try and keep the guy out of jail. Why would he do that?’
‘He was blackmailing Val.’
‘He was?’ He looked stunned. ‘She never told me.’ They allowed him to think about it and they saw the moment the next question surfaced in his mind. ‘What — how could he blackmail her? What for?’
Another dead loss, Miss Pink thought; he was an ingenuous fellow, he really didn’t know the answer. Val had taken no one into her confidence. She listened distractedly as Sophie protested that she had no idea what kind of knowledge Byer held. She observed Clyde’s efforts to recall distant events — a week old, anyway — and she was convinced of his sincerity. She wondered if Byer could be broken — and dismissed the idea; blackmailers didn’t reveal the nature of their hold, even to their victims… Her brain faltered, checked and diverged. Did Val know herself? What kind of information was capable of disabling the victim without her knowing its exact nature? This called for lateral thinking. ‘He could have planted something,’ she said aloud.
They turned to her in astonishment. ‘What?’ Sophie asked, and ‘Who?’ came from Clyde.
‘I’m thinking of the blackmail. Suppose Byer had stolen something of Val’s and dropped it at hunting camp?’ Or Jen, she thought: placing something of Jen’s in the cabin. ‘Not a good theory,’ she went on, backtracking. ‘Val’s been to the cabin twice since Charlie was there. Anything of hers could have been dropped subsequently.’
‘But Charlie didn’t die in the cabin.’ Clyde was mystified. Miss Pink turned to Sophie. ‘Let’s go to Irving. We need to talk to Val.’
‘You said it looks bad to go rushing off — and anyway, what excuse do you have to barge in there — if she’s with the police? I mean, does Hilton know you’ve investigated murders before?’
Clyde’s jaw dropped. Miss Pink said, ‘Not investigated; I’ve just been there when they happened, or someone asked me to find out — I don’t have to go to the police. You do that: find Val and try to get her away from them.’
‘What do I say to her?’
‘We’ll work it out as we drive. The first question could be crucial. If it doesn’t succeed she could throw up defences — more defences. We’ll stop at the Rothbury, I’m go
ing to need my car.’
*
After dropping Miss Pink at the hotel, Sophie went ahead, having given directions to the Riverside Restaurant where they would meet, providing she could find Val.
Miss Pink located the restaurant without trouble and sat in the shade of an umbrella on a deck overlooking the water. Here, in the city, the river had been dredged and deepened, and the water slid by with sluggish power. The occasional log floated past and once a pallet with an egret perched on the slats.
As the egret faded in the distance Miss Pink became aware of Val approaching, with Sophie so close behind that she gave the impression of herding the younger woman, of giving her no chance to run. Val looked drawn, at the end of her tether.
‘Found her parked outside the sheriff’s department,’ Sophie explained. ‘Seaborg told me she’d gone there to wait, give Bret a ride home. But they’re keeping Bret a while.’
Val sat down opposite Miss Pink. A waitress came and Sophie ordered coffee all round. Miss Pink asked curiously, as if in the middle of a conversation, ‘How did Byer know it related to yourself and not to Jen?’
Val stared as if she hadn’t understood the question. After a pause she shook her head in the faintest gesture of denial. ‘It didn’t matter.’
Sophie’s mouth opened, and closed as Miss Pink’s glasses flashed a warning. ‘Either would do,’ she mused. ‘You’d fight even harder for Jen than for yourself. How does Bret come into it?’
‘I don’t know till I’ve talked to him. He hasn’t —’ The waitress brought the coffee. They made small movements in their seats, looking automatically for spoons and sugar. ‘How did you find out?’ Val asked.
‘It was obvious as soon as one realised that Byer need not have turned back at the landslide that evening, that he went all the way to the cabin.’ Miss Pink switched her attention to a sachet of Sweet and Low. ‘If only you’d stopped off as you were passing next morning,’ she murmured, and left it hanging.
‘I didn’t know! Besides —’ She stopped and glowered. ‘I mean I didn’t know I’d dropped anything when I visited with Charlie the — the day before. Anyway, Clyde was with me when we passed and no way would I have him implicated.’
