“But what about all the money Quint stole from Marcus Stanton's office?” I asked, bemused.
Gabriel groaned. “I didn't know about it until the night I went looking for something in his bag. He was out getting food, and I found the cash. We had a huge argument when he returned to the hostel. Quint hadn't wanted to spend that money until he was sure the bills weren't traceable, and he wanted my name on any formal records to ensure nothing could fall back on him. His uncle had warned him. That night, Quint packed up his stuff, the cash, and the jewelry, and he disappeared. I never heard from him again. I panicked and entered crisis mode. I knew I could never come home again for a long time.”
I could've killed Quint myself for what he'd done to my brother. “Is that why you called the pawn shop to tell them where to find the owners of the rubies?”
“Yes, I disguised my voice and left a message from a random pay phone in another part of San Francisco. Then, I got a job, went back to school, and you know the rest, I guess.” Gabriel indicated we should head back if I needed to get to class on time.
“I know the rest in terms of your time away from Braxton, but what happened when you came back this year. Did you confront Quint again?” I asked as we reached his motorcycle.
“I didn't see him the first few weeks, but we ran into each other at lunch one day. He told me how bad he felt about the whole situation and that he hoped I could get past it. He promised me he'd changed.” Gabriel explained that he told Quint he'd give it some thought, but they never found a chance to talk again. My brother had no information about the current jewelry thefts, nor did he know who might've been angry enough with Quint to kill him. “Imogene and Paul never knew what Quint had done, and now they're happily engaged in their own world. Tiffany, Imogene, and Helena don't know that Krissy had asked Quint to steal the original brooch, so they'd never suspected him of being the thief. Tiffany thinks it's me because I was with her at the funeral parlor the day her mother had been robbed, and she saw Quint dressed like me in my dorm room with the stolen jewelry. Nicky only hired Quint because he didn't know what the guy had done to me until I told him a few weeks ago.”
Gabriel confirmed he had no alibi for the night Quint had been killed. He was at home sleeping and couldn't prove that he wasn't anywhere near the cable car. Nana D was sleeping too. Gabriel knocked the kickstand away and drove to Danby Landing, so I could change clothes, then we headed back to campus. He went to work, promising to tell the whole truth to Connor later that afternoon.
As he left, I contacted Lucy Roarke to learn if she'd ever been told who'd stolen the rubies. She stated that Silas Crawford claimed he'd never discovered any names when the San Francisco police transferred the gems. He'd definitely been covering up his nephew's role and had chosen not to release any information he'd learned from the pawn shop to the Roarkes. I ended the conversation just as my father called to mention that he hadn't recollected anything else since our previous discussion. “But remember, bad blood runs through the Crawford men, so Quint's the true thief. I'm sure there won't be any more break-ins again, Kellan.”
I wasn't so certain. Walking back to Diamond Hall, I contemplated everything I'd learned; new connections in the spiderweb of clues began to grow much clearer. Quint had been angry because he felt the girls in the sorority had taken advantage of him. Then, Lara forced her daughter, Imogene, to break up with him. Quint wanted revenge. He'd purposely chosen to steal from the families who'd founded Alpha Iota Omega, and he'd left the calla lily to implicate someone in the sorority for stealing all the jewelry. Except he'd gotten away with it and left town to cash in on his rewards.
When Quint returned to town, he'd begun repeating the crimes but in a slightly different manner. There was a more intricate pattern that no one else had figured out. In the first theft of each series, he stole from Gwendolyn Paddington and her daughter, Jennifer. In the second thefts, it was Agnes followed by her daughter-in-law, Lydia. In the third thefts, it was Lucy Roarke and her daughter, Maggie. In the fourth thefts, it was Lara and her daughter, Imogene Grey. When I considered the original fifth victim, Wendy Stanton, I found myself stumped. Wendy didn't have any daughters and her son was too young to be married. Then, I realized she had a stepdaughter, Krissy. If there was a new accomplice who'd killed Quint for an unknown reason, we might still have another burglary. Based on the pattern, it'd be happening very soon. Could we get ahead of the second thief and Quint's probable killer?
I needed to share my theory with Connor and April, but it would have to wait until after class. I made up an excuse, announcing that I needed to speak with Krissy and another student during the break about an issue with their transcripts. I wanted to ensure Krissy would be available to talk with me, in case she had any concerns about being targeted for a future jewelry heist. For ninety minutes, we discussed the pros and cons of changes in documentary-style reporting since the Internet had become available. While the first student came to see me during the break, Krissy did not. I told the first student that I was confused and had found what I needed for her files, so she could ignore everything. I searched the entire floor for Krissy, but she wasn't anywhere in sight.
Raquel saw me looking around. “Who are you looking for, Dr. Ayrwick?” After I told her, she said, “Krissy and Imogene went out the back door a few minutes ago.”
I thanked Raquel and went to check for myself. Those exits were usually only for professors to get to our second-floor offices. The last time something unusual had sent me up that staircase, I'd found my first dead body. My stomach flipped at the thought of it happening all over again.
I ascended the first staircase, but they weren't there. Then, I heard a voice in the distance and realized someone had gone to the third-floor library space. I quietly climbed the steps, hoping not to make my presence known. When I reached the top of the platform, Krissy and Imogene were arguing. They couldn't see me through the small crack in the doorjamb, as far as I could tell.
“The police came by to see me today. They suggested Quint's death wasn't an accident. I know you were there.” Imogene sounded nervous but determined to confront Krissy.
“I don't know what you're talking about. You really are a dumb little mouse. I don't understand what Paul sees in you,” Krissy retorted with venomous anger in her tone, which I'd never heard before.
“Aren't you worried that I told them about you hanging around the cable car? I wonder if they're coming to interrogate you next, maybe arrest you for something, huh?” Imogene taunted, her normally calm demeanor holding firm.
What was Krissy doing in the cable car? Was Imogene referring to the day Quint was murdered?
“The cops called. I'm meeting them tomorrow. I have a lot to tell them about you too, you witch.” Krissy took a few steps closer. “I was just visiting Quint that night. We were friends.”
I reached for my phone to record the conversation, but I was afraid they'd hear me pressing buttons. I kept listening, curious as to what else they might say. My word would be good enough for the sheriff if anyone confessed that afternoon.
“At eleven o'clock the night Quint was electrocuted? I saw you before I went home to Paul's house that night.” Imogene backed away and slipped behind a small chair.
I considered the layout of the room and wondered if there were any weapons around. Nothing came to mind, but I hadn't been up there in weeks. Even a book could hurt someone.
Krissy guffawed. “Yes, Quint and I had drinks that night. He mentioned needing to get something he'd left in the cable car earlier that day, so I went with him. That's all. You probably saw me leaving the parking lot while he remained behind working, before accidentally electrocuting himself.”
“Odd time to be on campus, huh? Quint was very smart. I must agree with the police; I don't think he'd be foolish enough to leave the power on. I told them you'd been spending time there, that you tried to steal Quint from me back in college too. That detective was extremely interested in hearing what I had to say,” Imogene r
eplied.
I'd have to find a way to corroborate Imogene's story about going home to Paul that night. If Krissy had been there an hour before Quint died, did it mean she was guilty, or had she seen someone else skulking around the cable car? She'd known about the purpose of the calla lilies and asked Quint to steal the first item for her. Had I missed key clues when she revealed the story at the Chinese restaurant the other night? I tiptoed down a few steps, worried they might find me eavesdropping. I had to rethink my plan to talk to Krissy about the next potential robbery. Perhaps this girl was wound more tightly than I'd realized. Could she be Quint's accomplice, trying to cover her tracks?
* * *
After class finished, I wrote a few lesson plans and sent a text to Connor and April to inform them I had urgent information. When I checked the time, I realized they were still cross-examining Gabriel and I had to collect Emma from the bus stop. She'd taken the later bus home today. Once I did, we drove to Bertha Crawford's house to provide an update on what I'd discovered since Quint's funeral service.
Emma regaled me on the ride over by sharing stories about all her new friends at camp. I also learned that Miss Roarke, Helena to me, had gotten into an argument with someone who'd shown up that afternoon at the school. Emma recalled that the other woman kept saying, 'How could you not tell me he was a cheater?' She then asked me, “What's a cheater, Daddy? Is that like when Nonno hides cards in his jacket pocket?”
I hadn't realized Vincenzo was that obvious in front of Emma. “Oh, sorta, honey. That's why I always say it's best to be honest and learn how to be a good loser. You can't win them all.” I'd have a word with my father-in-law the next time I saw him, to suggest he stop doing foolish things when Emma was nearby. Would it be awful of me to wish he'd been kidnapped instead of Francesca? I still hadn't produced a reasonable plan on how I'd tell Emma that her mother was alive. Any day now, Francesca might be a free woman again. I should've been thrilled by the news, and perhaps six months ago, I might have been. Too much had happened this year, I supposed. Whom had Helena fought with at work?
Emma and I knocked on Bertha's door, and she yelled for us to come inside. She lived in a small three-bedroom home not too far from the Betscha mines where her husband used to work. Nana D had told me that her brother-in-law, Silas, the former sheriff, had moved in with her after his brother died, to help provide a male role model for his young nephew. Based on what I'd learned, he'd been successful. While the sheriff had been a corrupt law enforcer, Quint had grown up to be a thief.
“Have a seat. This must be Emma,” she said. After quick introductions, Bertha told Emma she'd baked cupcakes that were cooling on the kitchen table. “You can put the icing on them if you'd like.”
Once Emma raced to the kitchen, I said, “Thanks. I appreciate you giving me time this evening.”
“Based on the darkness in those normally pretty blue eyes of yours and the hesitancy in your voice, I assume you've come bearing unwelcome news.” Bertha removed the oxygen tube clipped to her nose and rested it on a nearby shaky table. “I needed to learn to breathe on my own again anyway.”
“You're a smart woman, and I'm truly sorry to have to deliver this news.” I sat on the couch next to her and rubbed her cold hand. Bertha had been putting up a good fight, but the chemo had taken a lot out of her. I worried she didn't have much longer to live.
“Out with it. My son did some foolish things, so don't worry about breaking an old woman's heart. I did the best I could to raise that boy, but when we lost his father, things never did improve. There were some bad influences hanging around.” She sighed while glancing at a picture on a shelf across the room. It was a framed photo of her and her husband with Quint when he was a small boy.
“I know with certainty that Quint stole all the jewelry and cash from a few families eight years ago.” I paused to let her take in the information. Unmoved, she continued to stare at me. “He roped someone else into hocking a few pieces, then he must've taken off and lived on the profits.”
“It makes sense. I got a few expensive gifts in the mail from him shortly after he left last time. Did he continue to steal once he left Braxton?” Her chest heaved up and down with great force.
After Bertha recovered, I said, “I'm not certain, but I suspect he had something to do with the recent string of burglaries. I also know your brother-in-law covered up the original ones.”
Bertha expressed sorrow for the son she'd lost when he was a young boy and the one she'd lost once he'd grown up and followed in his devious uncle's footsteps. “Your classic family tragedy. A mother always knows when her son is up to no good even if she can't admit it to anyone else until too late.”
“The other person involved years ago is currently talking to Sheriff Montague.”
“Do you think this person killed my Quinton?” Bertha's eyes teared.
I handed her a tissue. “No, ma'am. I believe with every fiber of my being he didn't harm your son. But my good friend is the lead detective on this case. I'm confident he will find the real criminal.”
“You've been honest with me, Kellan. I appreciate that. You can search Quint's room if you want, though I don't know if you'll unearth anything. One of his friends came by wanting to be close to him one last time,” Bertha said, drying her cheeks and reattaching the oxygen tube to her nose. “He hardly kept anything in there. Doubt you'll find much.”
I was curious to hear a friend had rummaged through the room. “Do you recall who?”
Bertha closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips together. “She came in right after I finished baking. Mixing the cupcakes had knocked the wind out of me. I told her to just go ahead into his room. I didn't have my glasses with me, and I'd taken a painkiller. I was simply too out of it to remember much.”
“Can you describe the girl?”
Bertha couldn't recall any specific features other than she had medium to dark hair. “About the same age as Quinton. I must've fallen asleep. Next thing I remember, you were knocking at the door.”
It sounded like Imogene, but when I showed her a picture on my phone that I'd found online, it didn't help. Bertha was tired. It was time for us to leave. I checked Quint's room myself but only found a set of lock picks and other tools he'd used to break into various places. “Is there anything else you can tell me, before we head out?” I waved to Emma, who'd brought an iced cupcake to Bertha.
“Take a few home, sweetie. I don't have any grandchildren. It makes an old woman feel useful to bake them for someone who loves them so much.” Bertha reached out and tousled Emma's hair, then turned to me. “Quinton did have some money the last couple of months. He kept paying all the expenses to keep the house up. The Paddingtons offered to pay my medical bills, but I wouldn't let them. My pride stood a little too firm, I suppose. I feel awful that my son stole from them years ago.”
“If you remember anything about the woman, please give me a call.” Before we left, Bertha confirmed she'd given the Paddington estate keys to her son to return and assumed he'd followed through on the task. We both agreed he must've used them to steal Jennifer's watch. The keys had either gone missing again or Quint tossed them, so they couldn't be traced back to him.
Emma and I left Bertha's place and spent the evening with Nana D. I lacked the energy to update Connor and April on what I'd learned from Bertha. When they contacted the distraught and sick woman, they'd find out. Gabriel confirmed he'd survived the discussion with Connor and promised to call soon to explain how it had gone. Knowing tomorrow was Nana D's first day as the new mayor, I climbed into bed to get some sleep. Then, I noticed a new message arrive on my phone.
Connor: The Paddingtons sent me the list. This is confidential information. Lots of visitors but only four could've had access. Imogene and Paul brought an engagement present and were left waiting in the Great Hall for a few minutes. Krissy Stanton got lost using the restroom after stopping by to collect a donation for a charity she was sponsoring. Nicky Endicott dropped off a quote for s
ome construction work on the ceiling in the Great Hall, and he was alone while the maid went to get him a glass of water.
Four people with access, but just because one had dropped a bouquet of black calla lilies near Quint, it didn't mean they'd also killed him. I needed to produce a plan to interrogate everyone myself. Hopefully by morning, the best approach would reveal itself. As I nodded off, I realized tonight had been nine days since the jewelry theft at Lara's place, yet nothing else had happened. Based on the pattern, it should be in progress right now or within the next twelve hours. Would anything happen overnight?
Chapter 15
Nana D held her press conference promptly at nine the next morning outside the county administrative building. Mother Nature cooperated by delivering a glorious day with bright sunshine and a soothing seventy-five-degree temperature. It was an almost near-perfect moment, short of Town Councilman Marcus Stanton's rants at the back of the crowd. All four towns in Wharton County had elected a new councilman, which meant there were five new leaders joining the ranks at the half-year mark. What a welcome July had brought in!
Mistaken Identity Crisis: Death On The Cable Car (Braxton Campus Mysteries Book 4) Page 19
