by J A Whiting
“Why not?”
“The way the sentences are formulated, the words used in the note. Remember when I was taking that anthropology course in college? Communication was discussed. Most people have different ways of stringing words together to make sentences. Take you and Ellie for example. Ellie has a more formal way of talking. If she wrote a note on a certain subject and you wrote a note on the same subject, we’d all be able to pick out which one of you wrote which note.”
“I get it.” Angie nodded. “I see what you mean. But you didn’t know Perry. You can’t be that sure he didn’t write this.” She gestured to the paper.
Courtney folded her arms and leaned onto the table. “I have a feeling. I know I’m right.”
Angie raised an eyebrow in thought and then she said, “What if you could get a few samples of Perry’s writing, some emails he sent to friends and to professors, maybe a sample of a paper he wrote for a class. Take a look at them, get a feel for the way he communicated and compare it to this note.”
“I could ask Chief Martin if he could show me some examples of Perry’s writing from his laptop,” Courtney’s eyes were bright. “It’s a great idea.”
“If the writing samples are different from the suicide note, then we’ll know someone who had access to Perry’s laptop wrote the fake note,” Angie said.
Courtney’s tone was full of excitement. “And that same person must have killed Perry.”
The cats meowed their approval from their positions back on top of the refrigerator.
13
In the waning early evening light, Mr. Finch, Angie, Courtney, and Jenna sat in Finch’s sunroom painting and drawing at the long table and at easels, and Ellie perched at the edge of her chair with her cello in front of her practicing new music. Near the big open windows, the two cats rested on the back of the sofa keeping their eyes on the birds and squirrels moving about the backyard. Betty, Finch’s girlfriend and a successful real estate agent and broker, was at the dining room table doing paperwork, returning emails, and making calls to clients.
Finch worked at an easel on a large seascape while Angie used a charcoal pencil to draw a picture of Euclid and Circe sitting under the pergola behind the Victorian. Courtney practiced her new interest in calligraphy and Jenna used colored pencils to sketch out some new jewelry designs for the fall line.
“This is a most pleasant way to spend a few hours,” Finch said as he sat back to check his painting. “Your cello playing is just lovely,” he told Ellie.
“I’ve been trying to master this piece and I think I’m almost there.” With a satisfied smile, Ellie rested the cello to the side and placed her bow against the chair next to her.
“Shall we take a break and have refreshments?” Finch asked.
Finch and Courtney brought in crackers and cheese, fruit, lemonade and iced tea and everyone settled at the round table. Although there had been no discussion of crime or murder all afternoon with the group wanting a break from such talk, they all knew it was time to bring up the subject of Perry Wildwood.
Courtney went through the reasons she suspected the suicide note was a fake which had been written by someone else to throw off the authorities. “The way people describe Perry makes me think the note is worded in a way that isn’t consistent with the way Perry would write it.”
“That’s a very interesting viewpoint.” Finch poured lemonade into his glass. “And I think you’re on to something.”
Courtney gave a nod. “I’m meeting with the chief tomorrow to take a look at other things Perry wrote on his laptop. That way I can compare the language he used to the suicide note. I’d bet money that the word use and arrangement in the other written pieces will be different from the note.”
“I think this idea has a lot of merit,” Jenna praised her sister. “It’s very clever.”
“From the beginning, I didn’t think the note was written by Perry,” Courtney said. “I had a hunch about it, I guess. Now we just have to prove it.”
“What about motivations?” Ellie asked. “Who could have had motivation to kill Perry?”
“We have nothing concrete,” Angie said, “only suspicions.”
“Megan Milton claims she had an interest in Perry, but respected that he didn’t want a relationship so remained within the bounds of friendship only,” Jenna said.
Courtney added, “But Perry’s former girlfriend, Maura Norris, told us Megan was clearly after Perry, and that she acted in such a bold way that it made Maura uncomfortable.”
“What about Maura?” Ellie asked. “Was she upset with Perry for only wanting a casual relationship?”
Angie’s face wore a serious expression while she thought about her interaction with Maura. “She claims to have wanted the same thing as Perry, nothing serious, a fun, easy-going relationship with no strings attached and no plans for the future.” Tilting her head to the side, Angie added, “But I’m not sure I believe that’s really what she wanted.”
“I got the same feeling,” Courtney said. “I wouldn’t be one bit surprised if Maura was the one who injected Perry with an overdose. Maybe she’s good at hiding her real feelings.”
“Who else do you suspect?” Finch asked.
“I don’t like Andy Hobbs.” Angie’s lips were tight and her eyes darkened. “I don’t trust him. He didn’t like Perry and he was flip about Perry’s death. It’s like it doesn’t faze him at all. He doesn’t seem to feel an ounce of sympathy or empathy over the death. He doesn’t care that a housemate died, or that he might have been killed.”
“Why does a guy like that choose to go into the nursing profession where he’ll have to care for people?” Ellie asked. “It doesn’t seem to fit with his personality.”
“For the money, I bet. He’ll have a stable, solid salary.” Courtney moved to the sofa to pat the cats. “Maybe he plans to go into administration where he won’t be involved with actual patient care.”
“I hope that’s it,” Angie said with a shake of her head. “Andy would not have a very kind or caring bedside manner.”
“What about the other boarding house residents?” Finch asked. “Would they have had access to Perry’s laptop? Could one of them have written the note?”
“We haven’t talked to the other two residents yet,” Angie said, “but Maribeth told us that the residents left their laptops or books or other personal things laying around the house. Perry never locked the door to his room. No one expected any of the other boarders to steal anything, so yes, I think the older residents could have accessed Perry’s laptop.”
“When Mr. Finch touched the laptop, he sensed someone who was angry and jealous of Perry had used it,” Courtney said. “It could have been someone in the boarding house. One of them could have written that suicide note.”
“When does Chief Martin want you to speak with the older boarders?” Finch asked.
Angie said, “We’ve set up separate appointments for tomorrow and the day after with Roger Winthrop and Mary Bishop.”
“Mrs. Bishop and Mr. Winthrop seemed slightly irritated with one another when Miss Angie and I were at the house the morning after the killing,” Finch said.
Courtney chuckled. “Shouldn’t you be calling Angie Mrs. Angie now that she’s married, Mr. Finch?”
Finch’s mustache moved slightly when he smiled. “It doesn’t sound right to my ear. I still refer to Jenna as Miss Jenna even though she is married as well.”
“How about Ms. Angie and Ms. Jenna?” Courtney asked. “It has a good ring to it.”
“That might be a possibility,” Finch nodded. “I will consider it.”
Angie ignored Courtney’s suggestions to Mr. Finch. “I picked up the same thought about Mary’s and Roger’s relationship. They seemed impatient and annoyed with one another.”
“Since they’re not friends, maybe one of them will spill some information about the other,” Jenna said.
“A couple of people have implied that Perry and Maribeth weren’t on the best
of terms,” Angie revealed. “Perry got a break on the rent because he was supposed to help out around the house, but it seems he didn’t do what he was supposed to do and Maribeth wasn’t happy with him.”
“I can’t believe that would be reason to kill the man,” Ellie said.
“They might have been arguing and then things escalated,” Courtney pointed out. “Maribeth mentioned she had been a nurse. She would recognize the medications Perry had in his room and she would know how to use a syringe.”
Angie’s face paled slightly considering Maribeth as a killer. “I can’t wrap my head around that. It can’t be Maribeth.”
“Don’t dismiss anyone until we’re sure,” Courtney warned. “Some people are very good at hiding who they are and what they’re capable of.”
With a sad frown and a sigh, Finch said, “I understand that all too well.”
“I didn’t mean to make you sad, Mr. Finch.” Courtney got up from the sofa and gave the man a hug.
Finch’s brother, Thaddeus, was a mean and terrible man who attempted to kill Finch by pushing him down a long and steep flight of stairs when they were young men. The injuries resulted in a permanent limp and necessitated the use of a cane for the rest of Finch’s adult life. Thaddeus’s evil ways caught up with him in Sweet Cove when someone murdered him in the candy store with a knife. The good Finch inherited the store and invited Courtney to become his co-owner.
“I am continually baffled by how different two people born to the same parents can be,” Finch said softly. “My brother was a monster. A terrible person who cared nothing for the people around him.”
“I’m so sorry you had someone like that in your life.” Courtney gently rubbed the older man’s shoulder.
“Yes.” Finch looked lost in thought as he patted the young woman’s hand, but then he took in a deep breath and said, “But the events of my life brought me here to all of you. One must take the bitter with the sweet.”
Courtney said, “Maribeth said that to us, too. I’d never heard the saying before.”
“No life is perfect,” Finch said as Circe came over to jump onto his lap. “It is a mix of good things and bad, of sadness and joy.” Looking around the sunroom at each of the Roseland sisters, a smile lifted the man’s lips and a twinkle returned to his eyes. “I prefer to focus on the joy. Being part of your family has been the blessing of my life, a blessing I never expected.”
“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Angie smiled warmly at Finch. “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Mr. Finch.”
Circe stood on the man’s lap, put her little paws on his chest, and sweetly rubbed her cheek against his chin.
14
Angie and Mr. Finch sat in the boarding house’s den with seventy-four-year old Mary Bishop, a slim, short, light-haired blonde with soft brown eyes who was dressed in black slacks and a perfectly-pressed pale blue, long-sleeved shirt. She wrung her hands together as they rested in her lap.
“I haven’t felt comfortable in the house since Perry’s passing. I’m having a hard time sleeping. I wake up in the middle of the night feeling either terrified or full of anxiety,” Mary said. “I moved here nearly two years ago shortly after my husband died. I didn’t want to live alone. Having people around is important to me. It makes me feel better to interact with others, but now I worry that I’m not safe here. Is there a murderer living under this roof?”
Angie used a gentle tone when she asked, “When you think about your housemates, is there someone who gives you cause for concern?”
Mary’s eyes widened. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Who in the house makes you feel worried?” Finch asked.
“I don’t know,” Mary nearly wailed.
“Do you think maybe your concern doesn’t come from the housemates, but from not knowing what happened to Perry?” Angie tried to get at the root of the older woman’s nervousness. “Is it the uncertainty surrounding Perry’s death that’s causing your worry?”
“Maybe.” Mary’s eyes flicked around the room. “But Perry was killed. Why was he? Why would someone do that to him? Who did it to him?”
Angie kept her face blank. “The police haven’t said Perry was killed.”
Mary stared at the young woman and blinked several times. “Well, what else could be the reason for his death?”
“Suicide?” Finch said gently.
“He killed himself?” Mary said breathlessly.
Angie said, “There hasn’t been a firm determination on the cause of death yet.”
“Perry could have had a fatal reaction to some medication,” Finch said. “Or he may have had an accidental overdose. The police are still investigating.”
“Maybe no one killed him.” Mary seemed to exhale and she moved her hands from her lap to the arms of the cozy chair she was sitting in. “That would be a relief.”
“What’s it like living here?” Angie asked.
“Oh, you know. It’s fine most of the time.” It was clear that Mary was dancing around the question.
“And other times?” Finch asked.
“People don’t get along with each other one-hundred percent of the time.” Mary shrugged a shoulder. “There are squabbles, disappointments, misunderstandings. It happens everywhere humans come together. It’s no different here. Sometimes the residents annoy each other, get on one another’s nerves. It blows over. It can’t be taken too seriously.”
“Did some people in the house get into more squabbles than others?” Angie asked.
“Sure. It’s human nature. When people gather some irritations arise. It can’t be avoided.” Mary gave a nod.
“Is there someone who irritates you?” Angie asked.
Mary leaned forward looking appreciative that someone finally asked who irritated her. “Andy Hobbs. He can be sullen and unpleasant … and impatient. How will he ever make it through nursing school? How would he make a good nurse?”
Angie couldn’t speak to the comment so she gave a slight shake of her head hoping Mary would go on talking without prompting.
A stubborn look crossed over the older woman’s face. “He won’t make a good one. Definitely not. If I was a patient in the hospital and Andy was the only nurse left, I’d tell him to go away.”
“Have you had a run in with Mr. Hobbs?” Finch questioned.
“Not really.” Mary scrunched up her nose. “He has a fresh mouth. He says rude things.”
“To you?”
“To everyone,” Mary huffed. “Maybe some people think he’s funny. He isn’t.”
“Can you share an example with us?” Angie asked.
“Not off the top of my head.” Mary crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like him. I don’t have to like everyone.”
“Of course not,” Finch agreed.
“Did Andy and Perry get along?” Angie asked.
“They weren’t friends. Andy was the same way with Perry. I really don’t think they liked each other.”
“Did they argue?”
“I never saw them argue,” Mary said.
“Did you get along with Perry?” Finch asked.
The woman nodded. “Perry was a nice person.”
Angie wanted to know how well Mary knew the young medical student. “Did Perry mention his headaches to you?”
“He did. It was hard. I felt sorry for him.”
“Do you know if he took any medication specifically for the headaches?”
Mary looked uncomfortable for a second. “I’m not sure. He told me that nothing much helped.”
“Did you ever see what he took when he had one of his headaches?” Angie asked.
“Some pills.”
“Did he take anything besides pills?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I made him a cup of coffee. Caffeine can help with headaches.”
“Your room is on the second floor, is that right?” Angie knew where it was from talking to Chief Martin.
“It is.”
“Which side
of the house is it on?”
Mary raised her arm and pointed to the west side.
“Right above Perry’s room?” Mr. Finch asked.
“Yes. Not exactly above, partially above.”
“Did you hear anything the night Perry died?” Angie watched Mary’s face.
“The police asked that very same question. I don’t recall hearing anything,” Mary said.
“Do you usually sleep right through the night?”
“Oh, no. Almost never. I wake up a few times each night. Sometimes I can fall back to sleep and other times I toss and turn for hours.” Mary sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to fall asleep at night and not wake up until the sun comes up.”
“Did you sleep through the night on the evening Perry died?”
“I don’t remember. The police asked me that, too.”
“So you don’t remember anything unusual that night?” Finch asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Did everyone else in the house get along with Perry?” Angie asked.
“Pretty much, although Maribeth was annoyed with him a lot of the time.”
“Why was she?” Finch questioned.
“Perry got a discount on his rent in exchange for helping around the house and yard,” Mary explained. “Only thing was, he didn’t do any work. He always said he was too busy. It wasn’t fair, really. Maribeth can’t do everything and hiring help for yardwork or little things around the house is very expensive. If Perry didn’t want to help out, he should have declined the discount. Of course, I never said that to him … but I thought it.”
Angie nodded. “Did you know Perry’s girlfriend, Maura Norris?”
“I met her. I didn’t think she was right for Perry. She seemed cold. She seemed very ambitious.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Angie asked, keeping an even tone. “To want to better yourself?”
“Yes, of course, but Maura didn’t seem like she cared about anyone but herself.”
“Do you think Perry loved her?”
“I couldn’t answer that. Perry appeared to enjoy her company.”
“Do you know who broke off the relationship?” Angie asked.
