The Fool Dies Last, page 19
‘I don’t understand how he got inside,’ Hope mused. ‘We’re good about keeping the doors and windows locked. And why is he all the way up here? The third floor of a house like this isn’t usually the best place to find cash and other valuables, plus it increases the chance of getting caught.’
Having done what he could for the man, Dylan rose to his feet. ‘I don’t pretend to be an expert on burglars, but this guy doesn’t appear to be a criminal mastermind. He doesn’t have a mask – or even a hat – to conceal his face, and he’s not wearing gloves. He looks, well, pretty ordinary, like some chap you’d see—’
‘Like some chap you’d see sitting on a bench with Sylvia Norquist,’ Hope finished for him.
Not comprehending the connection, Dylan frowned at her. She, in turn, frowned at the man lying on the floor in front of them. It was Gerald. He was dressed in the same navy shirt and shorts that she had seen him in earlier that day with Gram and Sylvia in the hotel dining room. His bird’s-nest hair was even more scraggly than before, matted down on one side with a thick streak of dark red blood. There was a streak of blood on the crown of his head also, and several more on his arms, no doubt from abrasions sustained in his fall. A large purple welt was beginning to form above his left knee.
Gerald’s eyelids flickered, and he moaned once more.
‘Don’t worry, Gerald.’ Hope reached down and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. ‘Help is on the way. They’ll take you to the hospital, and the doctors there will set you right. The doctor here says that you’ll be just fine. Probably a little sore for a while, though.’
‘You know him?’ Dylan asked in astonishment.
She nodded. ‘I met him today – for the first time – at Amethyst’s brunch. He’s the mystery man from the park. The one that Rosemarie overheard talking about Gram and the equally mysterious piece of paper. This is Gerald, Sylvia Norquist’s son.’
‘What is he doing here?’
‘Looking for the paper, I presume. At brunch, Gram told us that it was in the brownstone, in the attic. That was what I was searching for all afternoon, without success. Gerald must have been so anxious to get the paper that he crept into the house and tried to find it.’
Dylan’s frown resurfaced. ‘What is on this piece of paper? And if it’s so important to everyone, why is it kept in the attic?’
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the door at the top of the attic steps slammed shut with a thunderous bang. Both Hope and Dylan jumped at the sound, but only Dylan turned toward it.
‘I’ve never seen an attic with multiple doors before,’ he said, peering up the steps. ‘One at the bottom of the stairs, and another at the top. Why are there two?’
‘Privacy,’ Hope told him.
‘Privacy? Who would need privacy in an unfinished attic that’s used primarily for storage?’
She was saved from having to elaborate by her sister.
‘Hope?’ Summer called from downstairs. ‘Are you and Dylan all right?’
‘We’re fine,’ she answered. ‘No worries.’
‘Thank goodness. I heard the door slam, and I wanted to make sure that you didn’t get stuck in the attic or, worse yet, that Dylan got stuck in the attic …’
With a puzzled expression, Dylan peered up the stairs again.
‘The ambulance should be here shortly,’ Summer continued. ‘I’m on the phone with Nate now, and he’s heading over as quickly as possible, too.’
‘Okey-dokey.’ Hope couldn’t help smiling at the cheerful way her sister announced the imminent arrival of the detective.
Dylan chuckled. ‘Most people aren’t quite that eager to have the police drop by.’
‘Anybody who gets Summer’s mind off Gary for even a short while is good in my book, police or not.’
‘Speaking of Gary,’ Dylan said, still studying the steps, ‘I can see why you wanted him – or one of his construction buddies – to do something about these stairs. They are incredibly dangerous. The staircase is much too steep and narrow for its height, the overhanging ceiling appears to be buckling in several spots, and there’s no handrail for support. I highly doubt whether it’s insurable, and if modern safety codes are applied, the property in its current condition may not even be saleable.’
‘Lucky, then, that we’re not trying to sell it.’
Dylan shook his head at her in reproach. ‘I’ve seen some horrendous staircase accidents over the years. My dad is right. Olivia should never go anywhere near these steps. Neither should you, for that matter. Or anybody else who values their health and appendages. I agree with my dad’s recommendation that the attic be shut off permanently—’
He was interrupted by a low growl from behind the door at the top of the steps.
‘Was that a dog?’ Dylan was confounded. ‘In the attic?’
Hope feigned a shrug. ‘Let’s change the subject. Before anyone gets too upset.’
‘I’m not getting upset.’
‘I wasn’t referring to you …’
To Hope’s relief, Gerald chose that moment to regain his senses. He coughed and spluttered as if he had just taken a tumble in an ocean wave and sucked up a gallon of sea water in the process.
‘What! Huh!’ His eyes flew open in alarm. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Easy. Easy does it.’ Dylan set his hands on Gerald’s shoulders to keep him from rising. ‘Don’t get up. Stay where you are.’
‘Don’t get up? Why not?’ Gerald coughed and spluttered some more. ‘What’s happened?’
‘You’ve fallen down the stairs, picked up a couple of bumps and bruises along the way, and hit your head. That’s why everything seems fuzzy and muddled right now. I have a few questions. Try to answer them to the best of your ability …’
Dylan began a series of medical tests. Hope presumed that their purpose was to check the severity of Gerald’s head injury and also to confirm whether his motor skills were functioning properly. In any case, she was happy to have Gerald awake and to have Dylan focused on his patient’s condition rather than that of the attic steps. Dylan was taking far too great an interest in the attic, and by the sound of it – considering the slamming door and the growl – the attic was taking far too great an interest in him.
Watching Dylan work, Hope was impressed by his composure and professionalism, particularly in view of the fact that Gerald was still technically an intruder in the house. She was also struck by how Dylan’s inquiries gradually, adeptly became less like a doctor’s and more like a detective’s.
‘Were you heading up the stairs when you fell?’ he asked Gerald. ‘Or had you already been in the attic and were heading back down?’
It was an excellent question. If Gerald had been in the attic, could he have found the paper when she couldn’t? Hope looked at his hands. They were empty. There was also no paper protruding from his pockets. One pocket did have a bulge, but it was bulky and heavy, like a wallet or a phone.
‘I think I was heading up …’ Gerald paused to consider. ‘Yes, I was heading up the stairs, and there was a door at the top. That’s strange, isn’t it?’ He looked at the door next to him. ‘A door at the bottom, and a second one at the top?’
‘It is strange,’ Dylan concurred, before encouraging Gerald to continue. ‘Did you reach the door at the top?’
‘Yes.’ He paused and considered again. ‘I remember standing there and asking myself: Now if I were an important document that somebody had decided to hide in the attic, where would I be?’
Dylan gave Hope a sideways glance. ‘And what answer did you come up with?’
‘I didn’t. The door was open, but the attic was too dark to really see anything. I could only make out some shadows and the outline of a few boxes. I was trying to figure out where the light switch was when all of a sudden, out of the blue …’ Gerald faltered, wincing at the memory.
Hope found herself wincing, too, wondering what he had encountered and how she was going to finesse an explanation.
‘Out of the blue,’ Gerald repeated, taking a gulping breath, ‘or more accurately, out of the black, there were these red eyes. Glowing red eyes. And they were looking straight at me. At first I thought it must be a cat. Cats have those reflective eyes that shine in the night. But as the eyes started to move toward me, I saw that they were much too big for a housecat’s – and much too tall. They were waist-high, at least. Then it growled. It was a terrible sound. Deep and rumbling, like a predator …’
Gerald shivered and looked apprehensively up the steps. It must have suddenly occurred to him that the purported predator was still in the attic – only a staircase and one closed door away – while he was lying helplessly on the floor below, because he blenched and with considerable effort, began to drag himself away from the stairs.
‘Don’t do that.’ Dylan hurriedly stopped him from moving. ‘You’ll injure yourself further. You need to keep still and remain where you are.’
‘I’m not remaining here!’ Gerald protested. ‘Not when it’s up there!’
‘There is nothing up there,’ Dylan told him.
‘Yes, there is! It was growling and salivating. I’m sure of it. And it was stalking me. First it circled around to the left, then it went around to the right, and all the while, it was getting closer and closer. It was hunting just like a predator in the jungle or the woods, except we were in the attic, and I was the prey!’
Dylan responded by once more stopping Gerald from rising.
‘I am not staying here,’ Gerald insisted. ‘You can think that I’m crazy, but I know what I saw and heard.’
‘I don’t think that you’re crazy,’ Dylan replied calmly. ‘I do think that you’ve suffered a significant head trauma, which can make the most rational person believe they’ve seen and heard all sorts of things that aren’t actually there.’
‘But I was so certain …’ Gerald started to waver. ‘I was positive that …’
‘How about this for a compromise?’ Dylan said. ‘I will help you to sit – but not stand – up, so we can get you off the floor and out of the doorway. Having observed you for a while now, I don’t think that should cause any problems from a medical perspective.’
Gerald didn’t hesitate in accepting the offer. With Dylan’s assistance, he moved slowly and carefully away from the stairs and into the hall. There were a few exclamations of pain and grimaces of discomfort along the way, but Gerald was too determined to quit. He gritted his teeth and struggled onward until he finally managed to get himself seated upright, leaning against the hall wall for support.
The moment that Gerald was clear of the steps, Hope closed the attic door, giving it an extra pull to make sure it was firmly shut. Dylan raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn’t comment.
‘Thank you,’ Gerald said to Dylan, breathing heavily from his exertions. ‘Odd as it may sound, I feel better now. The pain is worse in my leg and my head, but lying there on my back, utterly defenseless, was awful.’
‘Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to enter someone’s home uninvited,’ Dylan remarked, his tone unsympathetic.
‘My sentiment exactly,’ Hope agreed. ‘How did you get in here anyway?’
Gerald’s brow furrowed, and he mumbled something.
‘What was that?’ Dylan folded his arms sternly across his chest. ‘Speak up.’
‘I, um …’ Gerald stammered. ‘I …’
Rather than complete the sentence, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the bulky object that Hope had noticed earlier. To her surprise, instead of a wallet or a phone, the bulge turned out to be a jangling keychain.
Dylan was surprised also. ‘You have a key to the house?’ he asked incredulously.
Gerald stammered some more.
Hope leaned forward to take a closer look at the keychain. There was something familiar about its triangular silver shape. And then suddenly she realized why. It was Gram’s keychain – holding Gram’s keys.
‘Are those Gram’s?’ Hope exclaimed. Then a horrifying possibility struck her. ‘Is Gram all right? What did you do to her?!’
‘Me? Huh?’ Gerald was flustered. ‘I didn’t do anything!’
‘You must have done something,’ Hope snapped. ‘You have her keys! Where is she? How—’
‘Wait a minute,’ Dylan interjected. ‘I thought that Olivia was with my dad tonight.’
‘She is with your dad tonight. Or at least she was supposed to be.’ Hope turned heatedly back to Gerald. ‘You better not have hurt my grandmother – or Morris, either. Because if you did, I promise you that what you experienced in the attic this evening will be child’s play in comparison.’
Gerald’s face went deathly pale. ‘I didn’t hurt anybody. I swear! Certainly not your grandmother. And I barely know Morris.’
Dylan took a menacing step toward him. ‘Then how did you get Olivia’s keys?’
Gerald hesitated.
Ignoring his injuries, Dylan grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. ‘If you don’t tell us right now—’
‘My mom,’ Gerald bleated.
‘Your mom?’ Hope echoed. ‘Why would Sylvia have Gram’s keys?’
Again Gerald hesitated. Dylan’s fingers curled into a fist.
Cringing in anticipation, Gerald answered hastily, ‘My mom took the keys from your grandmother’s purse after brunch, as we were all leaving the table. She did it so that we could get into the house – into the attic – for the paper.’
Hope stared at him.
Dylan began to question Gerald further, but he was interrupted by voices below. The ambulance had arrived. Summer could be heard letting in the paramedics and responding to their inquiries.
‘I’ll go downstairs and talk to them,’ Dylan said to Hope.
She nodded. ‘But you won’t tell them … too much, will you?’
‘The bare minimum. Only what they need to know in relation to his injuries.’ Still holding Gerald by his collar, Dylan gave him a forbidding look. ‘You slipped and fell down the stairs. It was a simple accident. You weren’t paying enough attention. That’s the official story. Got it?’
‘Yes,’ Gerald squeaked.
Dylan roughly released him. ‘If you move one inch from that wall while I’m gone, there’s going to be another accident. You understand me?’
This time Gerald couldn’t even manage a squeak.
With quick steps, Dylan headed down the main staircase. Hope waited until she heard him reach the ground floor and greet the paramedics. Then she turned toward Gerald, cautiously keeping her voice low.
‘They’ll be up here in just a minute or two,’ she said, ‘so you need to answer my questions fast. If you don’t, I’ll open both the attic doors – in which case, a minute or two will seem like an eternity.’
‘Don’t open them,’ Gerald begged.
‘Then you better start telling me the truth, because I don’t believe your story. Not one word of it. The Sylvia Norquist I know would never steal keys from another woman’s handbag or consider trespassing in someone’s home.’
Gerald swallowed hard. Hope took it as a sign that she was on the right track.
‘Your mom cares far too much for her reputation to risk being branded a thief among the sweater-set-and-pearl crowd.’
Either from a fear of the attic or a desire to protect his mother’s good name, Gerald gave an anguished confession.
‘It was me,’ he admitted, his voice strangled. ‘I was the one who took the keys from your grandmother’s purse. But I had to do it! I had to get the paper!’
Hope was skeptical. ‘And you thought that you could just wander up to the attic, the paper would magically fall into your lap, and you would be able to stroll out the front door with it, easy as pie?’
Gerald’s pallid lips trembled.
She frowned at him. ‘I still don’t believe you. There’s something missing from your story, and you have five seconds to tell me what it is.’ She put a threatening hand on the lower attic door.
‘You don’t understand!’ Gerald exclaimed, his neck and shoulders now trembling also. ‘I didn’t have an option. She didn’t give me a choice. She made me do it!’
‘Who did?’
There were footsteps on the main staircase, followed by voices. Dylan was headed back up, accompanied by the paramedics. Gerald must have heard them, too, because he reached toward Hope and desperately grabbed her arm.
‘Tomorrow. At noon. In the spa.’ His words tumbled out in a frantic rush. ‘You have to bring her the paper. If you don’t, she’ll—’
Gerald’s whole body began to shake violently. Not sure if it was from too much stress and agitation or something more serious, Hope knelt down next to him.
‘It’s all right. You’re all right,’ she said, as soothingly as she could. ‘Try to breathe. Try to relax. We’ll get everything with the paper sorted out. Don’t worry. It will be fine …’
‘No, no!’ Gerald cried. ‘It won’t be fine. Not unless you go to the spa and give her the paper. You must! Your grandmoth—’
Although his mouth continued to move, only garbled syllables emerged. Gerald’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his hand tightened painfully around her wrist.
Struggling out of his grasp, Hope spun toward the staircase. ‘Dylan, hurry! Something is wrong with Gerald! I think he’s having a seizure.’
Dylan was next to her in an instant. The paramedics were only a step behind. Hope moved hastily out of their way, letting them do their jobs. She watched for a moment as they bustled about Gerald, then she turned and headed down the stairs to the nearest phone.
TWENTY-ONE
Hope breathed a tremendous sigh of relief when Gram answered her phone. She and Morris were safe and sound, curled up on Morris’s sofa, having just finished a Sunday-evening bowl of popcorn and a nature documentary featuring the nesting habits of ospreys. Gram expressed surprise that Hope was calling at such a late hour. Although Hope had intended to tell her about Gerald and the stolen keys and his fall down the attic stairs in pursuit of the paper, when she heard Morris yawning in the background and murmuring something about heading off to bed, she changed her mind. There was no need to share all the trouble with them now. The news could wait until the morning. At least that way Morris and Gram stood a chance of getting a peaceful night’s rest, which was more than Hope expected for herself. In the end, she simply told Gram that she had found her keyring. It turned out that Gram hadn’t even known it was missing.
