by Kate Wilhelm
He pretended not to see the look of consternation and refusal on Jenna’s face, waved, took Constance by the arm, and left for the front door and a word with Deke Hanson.
#
“Here’s another one,” Constance said late that night. She had the novel Eve had marked up and Andrea’s notebook that Charlie had picked up in Eve’s apartment. Charlie joined her on the sofa and looked at the written words, then at the highlighted section of novel.
“How many does that make?” he asked.
“More than enough, and I’m only halfway through. Eve went all the way, apparently. I’m going to skip to some of the much later highlighted passages.”
He had not been able to make heads or tails of that notebook, he thought as he stood and walked back to the other table where he had been playing solitaire for an hour. Alone, the notebook didn’t make sense, but with the printed novel it was as clear as having the Rosetta stone at hand.
When Constance finally closed the novel and the notebook, she and Charlie regarded each other.
“It’s a gamble,” he said.
“I know. But I’m sure.”
“So we go with it. Time to talk about ways and means. I’ve been thinking.”
“Let’s sit out on the balcony and watch the storm move in as we talk,” she said.
Distant thunder rumbled, closer than it had been an hour earlier, louder than it had been. The air smelled of rain, a change in weather, foretelling the end of summer.
They talked a long time, then they sat close to each other with his arm around her shoulders. The wind of the afternoon had died down, and the air had become much warmer and very still, but as the storm moved nearer, wind gusts moved in with it. Lightning flared almost simultaneously with the booms of thunder and the air cooled ten degrees in minutes. When the rain started it was with a scattering of drops, and suddenly with a deluge.
Laughing, they hurried inside, dragging their chairs after them. Rain blew in on the balcony, against the hastily closed French door.
She ran her hand through his hair, always wiry and crisp and now sprinkled with white flecks that looked like diamonds against the black background.
“You’re wet,” she murmured.
“Look who’s talking,” he said pulling her close. “Cold?”
“No. Are you?”
“Yes, and the only place to warm up is right over there.”
Moments later he said softly, “Know what I like about you?”
“Several things,” she said, “but tell me.”
“That you’re always as ready as I am to go to bed.”
She laughed.
20
“YOU DO YOUR CALLS AND I’LL BRING UP A TRAY,” Constance said that morning. “It might take me a while since it’s raining and no one’s going to be eating out on the terrace.”
Raining, definitely cooler and, Charlie noted with satisfaction, the rain was expected to taper off late in the afternoon. He turned off the television. “Bacon and sausage,” he said as Constance was leaving. She gave him a not-on-your-life look and simply smiled at his crestfallen expression.
His first call was to Debra Rasmussen.
“Good morning,” he said when she answered the phone. “I got your message, and I must say I don’t blame you, not a bit. However, I’m arranging a little get together at the Bainbridge house later on, and it’s in your interest to be there. I know you’ve scheduled a reception for staff and others, so the time could be a problem. What’s the earliest you could make it?”
“Mr. Meiklejohn, I really don’t have time, as you know. Does this mean that you’ve found those checks?”
“It isn’t absolutely mandatory for you to join us,” he said. “More of a courtesy. What time would be good for you?”
There was a long pause. Then she said four thirty in a snappish way. She sounded very irritated.
“Great. I’ll see you at the house.”
He walked to the glass door and gazed at the lake under rain as he considered his next call. The water was gray and choppy and looked cold. Returning to the chair at the sofa, he placed his call to Dorothy Dumond.
“Mrs. Dumond, we haven’t met, but we have a common interest. My name is Meiklejohn and this concerns the Bainbridge house. As one of the trustees of Stillwater College, it’s in your interest perhaps to represent all the trustees, to attend a little gathering at the house this afternoon. Dr. Rasmussen will be in attendance also, I might add.”
“You found the checks? Is that it?” she asked. “How exciting! I’ve never set foot in that house, and if it’s going to belong to the college, or course it’s in my interest to attend. What time is your meeting?”
“Four thirty. And, Mrs. Dumond, please bring Mr. Marshall with you.”
Before he could continue, she cut in to ask, “Whatever for? He has no interest in this matter.”
“I understand that. However, in our investigations, we’ve come across some very interesting information concerning the death of his wife years ago. That certainly is in his interest.”
“Why are you bringing that up at this time?” she demanded, her voice suddenly shrill and strident.
“It came up,” Charlie said. “And, Mrs. Dumond, it very definitely is in his interest to be there and hear what I have to say and not get it second hand, or third hand. Four thirty.”
He could hear her breathing for a few moments. “Mrs. Dumond? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “I’ll see what I can do about bringing Earl with me.”
“All I ask,” Charlie said. “I’m looking forward to meeting both of you.”
When Constance kicked the door, he hurried to open it and take the laden tray from her. “You done good, babe,” he said, putting it on the table. “You brought croissants!”
“I can’t bear to see a grown man cry,” she said, removing various covers from dishes. “Did you reach everyone?”
“Not the chief yet. He’s probably in church. Want to bet his wife has him in church without fail every Sunday.”
“You know very well I don’t gamble,” she said. “Especially on a Sunday. Of course, she does. He’s the chief of police and must keep up appearances.”
“If we weren’t already married, I’d propose here and now,” he said happily. “Bacon and sausage!”
“The bacon is mine. Keep your hands off.”
Breakfast was unhurried and they lingered over coffee afterward. But finally Constance said, “I should go get Jenna. She may be cold. And Stuart surely is cold. He was wearing shorts yesterday.”
“Right-o,” Charlie said with a grimace after glancing out at the rain. “Let’s do it.”
#
That morning the lake had become a gray slate without a ripple. The park was deserted, and water still gleamed on the sliding board; a cascade had gouged out its own pool in the sand at the bottom, below. The swings were lifeless and the air was chill. The park looked frozen into silence.
The chill had extended to the Bainbridge house. Tricia met them in the hall and motioned to the television room. “Stuart and Jenna are in there, Lawrence is around somewhere, Ted… ” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you have any news, anything new happening?”
“Maybe another body to report?” Lawrence asked, coming from the den.
Tricia’s hands clenched and she ducked her head.
“All’s quiet on the western front,” Charlie said. “What we’re here to do is let Constance take Jenna back to the apartment to change clothes, whatever. And I volunteer to take Stuart to his camp to have a look around, see what mayhem the sheriff’s bad boys left in their wake.”
Stuart and Jenna had stepped into the hall at his words, and they both nodded silently.
“I’ll go with you,” Law
rence said to Stuart. “If they trashed your stuff we might have to go to my place to get you something to wear.”
“Speaking of something to wear,” Constance said, “I brought you a sweater, Jenna. It’s a bit cool out this morning.”
Jenna didn’t respond. Constance thought she probably was angry for being coerced into staying at the Bainbridge house overnight, sleeping in Howard Bainbridge’s bed, having nothing of her own at hand in the morning. “Well, we might as well get started,” Constance said. She tossed the sweater to Jenna, who caught it reflexively but didn’t put it on or even cover her head as she followed Constance out to the car.
When Constance pulled to the curb at the Hammond house, Jenna had her key out and hurriedly left the car and started up the stairs. She had unlocked the door and was opening it by the time Constance caught up with her, but inside the apartment, she came to a full stop and gasped. Constance pushed past her to see a kitchen that looked as if it had been hit by a tornado.
Drawers had been pulled out, cabinets opened, boxes of cereal and crackers, flour and sugar on the floor, pans on the floor, the refrigerator door standing open. Constance hurried past the young woman and went into the bedroom where drawers had been emptied, the bedding pulled off the bed, the closet door open, garments on the floor. She retraced her steps to the living room, which had been searched, leaving cushions off the sofa and chairs. The study had been ransacked also, papers and books on the floor, drawers emptied.
Jenna stood at the bedroom door, ashen-faced and shaking. When Constance came near, she turned. “You knew,” she whispered. “You and Charlie, you knew something like this would happen. What if I’d been here? What if—”
“We didn’t know,” Constance said. “We were being cautious. And you weren’t here. Do you think you can change your clothes in that mess?”
Without warning, Jenna flung her arms around Constance and clung to her, shaking, whispering, “Thank you. Oh God, thank you.”
Together they found clothes that hadn’t been touched and, when Jenna went to the bathroom to shower and change, Constance began to pick up scattered garments and sheets and stuff them into a pillowcase. She knew Jenna would not wear anything that the searcher had handled until after it had been laundered.
“There’s a perfectly good washer and dryer in the house,” she said when Jenna emerged from the bathroom. “This will give you something to do until our little get-together later this afternoon. Ready?”
Jenna nodded without a trace of dissent, and without a backward glance at the apartment they left to return to the Bainbridge house.
Charlie met them at the door. When he saw the stuffed pillowcase, he raised his eyebrows at Constance, who nodded. “Ransacked,” she said.
The others crowded around and Stuart made an involuntary gesture as if to take the pillowcase from Jenna, then pulled back awkwardly. “Are you all right? What if you’d been there?”
She nodded toward Constance and Charlie. “But I wasn’t,” she said. “They saw to that. Now I have a load of laundry to do. Where’s the basement?”
“I’ll show you,” Stuart said and took the pillowcase. They walked down the hall together.
“His place was left in an unholy mess by those deputies,” Lawrence said, “but deputies had no reason to go to her apartment. Is that what you expected to happen last night? Why didn’t you post a guard there?”
Charlie shrugged. “Why don’t you crack out the Scrabble or something to keep yourselves amused. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He jerked his head toward the door, took Constance by the arm, and they left together. No one protested. It was as if they had reached a point where they were incapable of it.
“Was it a break-in?” he asked her in the car. He had taken the passenger seat.
“No.”
“Interesting,” he said as she started the engine. “Time to call the chief.”
Chief Engleman sounded peeved when he answered the call. “Now what?”
“Remember our little discussion about questions without answers? You said when I had some answers to let you know. I have some answers, Chief. Today at four thirty at the Bainbridge place.”
Engleman argued some but in the end he agreed to be there.
#
Dorothy Dumond and Earl Marshall were the last ones to arrive that afternoon. She went straight to Jenna and said, “My dear, I am so terribly sorry about your loss.”
Jenna ducked her head a little and said nothing. When Earl Marshall drew near as if to express his condolence, she turned away and took a chair next to Tricia, with Stuart on her other side. He looked tense enough to lash out if Earl took another step toward her.
“Glad you could all make it,” Charlie said. “I think there are enough chairs for everyone.” The only two vacant ones were well apart. Disdainfully Dorothy sat next to Dr. Rasmussen, and Earl sprawled between Ted and Lawrence without a glance at either of them. Chief Engleman was in an easy chair across the room, looking glum and very unfriendly.
Charlie surveyed the group and began by introducing everyone. “My wife and I were engaged to help find certain cashier’s checks, which we have done,” he said, taking a bulging envelope from his pocket.
There were gasps, and both Ted and Lawrence jumped to their feet as if to seize the envelope. Tricia said a fervent, “Thank God! You did it! You actually did it!”
“Where were they?” Ted demanded. “Just tell us where they were.”
“Doesn’t matter now, does it? There were other matters that we were asked to look into, and we did that also. So, consider this as simply act one of any ongoing presentation and be patient for the second act to start.” He glanced over them all and motioned for Ted and Lawrence to sit down, which they both did with some reluctance.
“Mr. Paley,” Charlie then said, “please verify that the checks are valid, the amount confirmed.” Charlie crossed the room to where Paley was sitting.
Paley’s hands were shaking hard as he took the envelope, removed the checks, and counted them. His voice was husky when he said, “Five million dollars,” without raising his eyes from the checks.
“Right,” Charlie said, taking them again. He returned them to the envelope and called, “Gus, will you please bring the box.”
Gus entered the room with a metal box that had a chain and metal cuff attached. Charlie introduced him as he put the box on a table at Chief Engleman’s side. No one moved as Charlie placed the envelope in the box and closed it. He turned on a small red light on the front of it.
“That box is locked now and Mr. Jesperson in New York City has the key to open it. If any attempt to open it is made without the proper key, a very loud alarm will sound. Mr. Paley, Gus, and Stan Leib, another employee of the Slocum Detective Agency, will leave us and deliver it to Mr. Jesperson. But before Gus attaches the cuff to his wrist, he and Stan will assist Mr. Paley with his boxes of books and other belongings. This may take a few minutes and I suggest that all of you help yourselves to coffee or tea or something on the dining room table. We’ll finish this act before we get on to the next one. Chief Engleman, will you please keep an eye on the box until Gus is ready to take possession?” Engleman gave him a murderous look and grunted.
Most of them stood up then and clustered in twos and threes. Jenna remained seated, and so did Earl Marshall, who looked asleep.
“Debra, let’s look over the house,” Dorothy Dumond said to Dr. Rasmussen, taking her by the arm. “So many possibilities! It’s a treasure… ” They left together.
Tricia embraced Constance and then Charlie. Tears stood in her eyes. “Thank God that’s over,” she said in a low, intense voice.
Stuart said something in a voice too low to hear. Jenna shook her head, but gradually they all moved out of the living room with the exception of Chief Engleman, who was guarding the box with the checks
.
#
It wasn’t long before Gus and Paley returned, with Paley carrying a suitcase. The group that had dispersed came back and gathered near the table with the locked box. No one spoke as they watched Charlie put the cuff on Gus’s wrist.
“When will all this be settled and the money distributed?” Ted asked Paley.
“I’m sure the firm will expedite settling the estate and transferring the property deed to Stillwater College,” Paley said. “Very soon. I’m confident, it will be very soon. You’ll be officially notified as soon as possible.” He was edging toward the door as he spoke, and it was clear that he wanted to leave instantly. He avoided looking at Charlie or Constance.
Charlie made a shooing motion at him and Gus. “I’ll go to the car with them for just a word,” he said. “Won’t take more than a minute.” The three of them walked from the living room.
As those remaining began to move restlessly toward the hallway, Constance said, “He’ll be right back and act two will begin.” With reluctance Tricia reclaimed her chair, and with even more reluctance Ted and Lawrence seated themselves. Dorothy Dumond sniffed and said, “I want another look at that kitchen. My God, what a party you could prepare in such a kitchen. Debra—” She stopped when Dr. Rasmussen deliberately returned to her chair and sat down.
When Charlie came back, he was accompanied by Deke Hanson, who was carrying a black trash bag. Charlie introduced him. “Mr. Hanson will be joining us for the next part,” he said. Deke sat in a straight chair near the door with the trash bag at his side.
“Tricia,” Constance said as soon as Charlie had seated himself, “when we first discussed this, I suggested that I would have to learn something about Howard Bainbridge. I want to tell you all what Charlie and I have learned.” Dorothy Dumond whispered something to Dr. Rasmussen, and Constance turned her gaze toward her. Her eyes were like blue ice as she said, “This ultimately concerns all of you. Bear with me.” Dorothy Dumond shrugged, leaned back in her chair, began an intense scrutiny of her fingernails.
