A Three Book Problem, page 25
“Billy,” I said. “I need you go to upstairs and check Miranda’s room.”
“Why?” he asked.
“She might have come inside after Cliff left without telling anyone.”
“So?” Billy said.
“Leave her alone,” Rebecca said. “All Miranda ever wants is attention.”
“She’s not getting any by being upstairs in her room, is she?”
Everyone looked at everyone else.
“Who cares?” Rebecca said. “Why are you still here, Jennifer? Didn’t I tell you to get out of my house? I’ll call the police and have you removed if I have to.”
“I’m leaving,” Steve said. “Jennifer, do you want to come with me or wait for Jayne and Gemma?”
“Billy, check Miranda’s room,” I said. “I’d like the rest of you to stay here. Jayne, come with me.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” Rebecca said to my rapidly retreating back. “I’ll be in the morning room. I left my magazine there. The rest of you can do whatever you want. I’m beyond caring about any of you.”
Jayne trotted after me down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You think something’s happened to Miranda?”
“I think it highly uncharacteristic of her not to want to have a front row seat to Jennifer and Rebecca’s quarrel.” I opened the back door and stepped outside.
“What—?” Jayne said, but I held up one hand. The music room windows were open and the sound of continued arguing came from within. Kyle had stopped playing and his voice was among them. High in the branches of an ancient oak a crow called to another. Raindrops dripped from holes in the gutters. Otherwise, all was quiet.
Then a voice came from behind the hedge surrounding the kitchen garden. “You’ve misunderstood me.” Miranda.
I put my finger to my lips and, taking care not to make any sound, walked down the path, dodging puddles drying in the warm sun. I sensed, rather than heard, Jayne behind me.
“I don’t think so.” Annie.
“We can come to an understanding. Let me assure you, I’m not lying awake at night worrying over who killed David. I’m glad to be rid of him. You did me a favor.”
“You have a funny way of returning a favor, as you put it.”
“All I’m asking for is a cut,” Miranda said. “In exchange I won’t tell the police about that nasty little dart I saw in your backpack on Friday evening.”
Jayne threw me a wide-eyed look.
“Always snooping, aren’t you?” Annie said.
“You never know when it’s going to pay off. And this time, it did. I was so curious about the dart and the metal tube with it, I took a picture. Just in case it turned out they were important. That metal tube I saw looked an awful lot like the one the police showed us a picture of. They never actually said how David died. How he could have been murdered in the library in the middle of the day in the presence of that nosy Englishwoman and her ditzy baker friend …”
Beside me Jayne sucked in a breath.
“… yet no one heard a thing and the killer got clean away. A dart. Such a small thing. So dangerous in the right hands. In your hands, Annie.”
“I have no comment on any of that, but even if it’s true, I’ve got nothing to cut you in on.”
“Not at the moment, but you will. When David’s estate’s finally settled. That’s why you killed him, isn’t it? You knew he never intended to leave any more than required by law to Rebecca, leaving the bulk of it to you and Billy. It’s only a guess, but I’m thinking you had plans for an accident for your dear Uncle David. A fall in the street maybe, directly into the path of an oncoming taxi. Such a tragedy. You thought you had time, but suddenly you couldn’t wait any longer. You had to get it done before he contacted his lawyer and wrote in that ridiculous Jennifer.”
“David had nothing but a mountain of debt to leave to anyone,” Annie said.
“That news came as much of a shock to you as to the rest of us.” Fabric rustled as Miranda moved. “I could read it all over your face. There’ll be something. Maybe not as much as you’d been hoping for, but something. David wasn’t a total fool, as you well know. He’ll have kept some assets safe. Enough for you to share with me. Now, let’s go inside. It’s getting chilly out here.”
“Whatever money I might, or might not, inherit from David, I’m not letting you hang that nasty accusation over me for the rest of my life, Miranda. You’ll never let it go. Never.”
I turned to Jayne, touched my finger to my lips again, and indicated making a phone call. “Police,” I mouthed, pointing to the house.
She nodded and slipped away.
Piano music drifted out of the house once again. It was a different tune this time, something I didn’t recognize. Still haunting, still beautiful. Above the music, I could hear the sound of Rebecca’s voice. Still complaining.
The women in the kitchen garden had stopped talking. I heard a soft grunt as someone, presumably the older Miranda, moved. “Whatever you’re thinking, Annie, I’d suggest you reconsider. I’m going inside. Time to say my cheery goodbyes and get out of here. That ride I offered you? Forget it. What are you doing? Annie? We can work this out!” Her cry was cut off.
Time for me to move. The iron gate screeched on its rusty hinges as I struggled to push it open. I burst into the garden to see the two women by the bench. Annie stood behind Miranda, holding Miranda’s brightly colored scarf in her hands. The scarf was wrapped around Miranda’s throat, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes bulging, her face flushed with fear. Her hands were up, clawing at the scarf, trying to pull it away, trying to get air. Annie’s eyes also bulged, but with rage and a touch of madness as she tightened her grip.
“Annie,” I yelled. “Stop that.”
Miranda saw me and threw me a desperate panicked look.
Annie gave the scarf one last sharp twist, and let go. She stepped back and lifted her hands in the air. “This is none of your business. Go back in the house.” Her voice was steady.
Miranda tore the scarf off and dropped to her knees, gasping, sucking in air.
I took a step forward. I held my own hands out, and I kept my own voice calm. “The police have been called. We’ll go into town and talk it all over. I heard some of what you said. Miranda was going to blackmail you, wasn’t she? I’ll tell the police it was her fault.”
Annie nodded. “I only want what’s mine. I sucked up to him for years. Years. I didn’t even care about his money. All I ever wanted was to sing on a big stage. To take my rightful place. He could have helped me with that. But he didn’t. He could have put a word in for me last year. He said he would, but he didn’t. He said I wasn’t ready. I needed more time. Time! I’m running out of time. He promised to send me to Italy after Christmas, so I could spend a year in Europe, taking lessons from the best teachers, audition at the great opera houses, buy the right clothes, travel in the right circles. He’d provide me with introductions to all the right people.” Tears welled in her eyes and dripped slowly down her cheeks. She made no move to wipe them away. “Miranda was wrong. I knew he was in serious financial trouble but I acted as though I didn’t. I’m a good actress as well as a great singer. I fooled you too, didn’t I? It came as no shock to hear that Uncle David was almost out of money. His offer to me was nothing but a sham. A pretense. A way of keeping me doing his bidding as long as he could. I had to get rid of him before all the money was gone. No one would be interested in any introductory letter from him if he was disgraced, ruined! And then he started making plans with that woman! He’d never even met her until last week and he was prepared to divorce Rebecca and marry her!”
Annie had killed David, but it sounded to me as though she didn’t quite understand why, even to herself. A combination of things, probably: resentment at what she thought was him squashing her career hopes, humiliation at being forced to act the role of servant. Finally, his plans to marry the unassuming, pleasant Jennifer and dump the hated Rebecca, which would leave Annie without a role to play in his life, as much as she hated that role. It sounded as though David had hung the promise of future favors over Annie for years. She had to have realized, on some level, the grand tour of Europe was never going to happen.
All that didn’t matter now. “I understand.” I walked slowly toward her. I held my hands out. She looked at me. She smiled, ever so slightly, and took a step forward.
As Annie talked, Miranda had crawled away from the bench. The ground was thick with mud from last night’s rain, drying slowly in the sun. Miranda’s hands and knees were coated with the stuff and streaks of dirt ran across her face. She grabbed a wooden trellis, supporting nothing but dead vines, and hauled herself upright. “I didn’t know anything about this,” she yelled at me. “I was lying, stringing her along. I told her to go to the police and confess but she refused, so I had to trick her into confessing.”
“Trick me!” Annie whirled around. “You used me.”
That, I thought, was probably true. If Miranda had found a blowgun and a single dart in Annie’s luggage, it was highly unlikely she thought the other woman was intending to practice in the woods. Miranda had known Annie intended to kill David. She’d done nothing to prevent it, and after his death she hadn’t bothered to tell the police what she knew.
“We can talk about all that down at the police station,” I said. “They’ll be here any minute.”
At that moment I heard the sound of sirens coming down the long driveway.
Annie hesitated. She glanced at me. I smiled at her.
“Gotcha,” Miranda said, not bothering to disguise the triumph in her voice.
Annie turned and ran. I was standing in the middle of the path leading to the gate, blocking her exit. She charged at the ill-kept hedge and shoved her way through.
“Wait!” I yelled. “You can’t get away. Annie! Let me help you.”
I took off after her. Branches scratched at my face and tore at my clothes as I pushed my way through the foliage. I stumbled free and emerged onto the grass at the back of the house. Annie was running across the lawn, away from the house, down the slope toward the creek at the bottom of the property. Her long sweater streamed out behind her and her sturdy boots didn’t falter. Two crows lifted off from a branch of a big old oak as she passed, and another cawed.
I ran after her. The grass and stones were slick from the rain and I’d dressed for a day at the store, not for chasing a killer, so I had thin-soled flats on my feet.
Last night’s winds and heavy rain had blown the last of the autumn foliage off the trees, and the ones marking the boundary of the property stood stark and bare against the pale blue sky. Annie was heading for those trees. I didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t know where she was going, and I didn’t know why I was chasing her. She was running in blind panic, and I was chasing her because my instincts told me to.
I flew past the statue I’d admired earlier, the bronze of a girl and her dog. So lifelike, I almost expected the dog to break off the game and join the chase. I could hear shouts from the police in the distance. I kept running, but the space between Annie and me was increasing.
Annie reached the woods and carried on without hesitation.
Footsteps sounded behind me, getting close, and I turned my head to see Jayne, who’s a faster runner than I.
“Where’s she going?” Jayne yelled.
“Nowhere. Everywhere. She doesn’t know.”
When I’d seen it the other day, the stream that runs through the bottom of the property had been calm and clear and serene. A gentle babbling brook, no deeper than the top of my foot. I didn’t know what effect the rainstorm would have had on the water level or the speed at which the current moved, but I feared the worst.
I glanced over my shoulder again. Men and women were leaping out of the cruisers, but they were a long way away. Other figures huddled in a group at the kitchen door.
“Go back,” I called to Jayne. “Tell the police not to let Miranda leave.”
She spun on her heels without a word and headed back to the house.
Ahead, I could see Annie’s red sweater moving through the line of trees. I called to her, but she didn’t turn. She must have heard me, because she put on a burst of speed. She was younger than me, probably in better shape, and wearing better shoes. The distance between us was increasing but she had nowhere to go. This property was fenced. In some places the fence was broken or falling down, but it would take time to find a weak spot to break through, and time to get over or through it.
I heard the sound of rushing water, and I stepped out of the line of trees, gasping for breath. Annie had stopped at the edge of the flooded creek and was watching the fast-moving water, seeking the best place to cross. “The police have arrived,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “Why don’t we go up to the house and join them?”
She slowly turned to face me. “He wasn’t a nice man.”
“No, he wasn’t.”
The creek had risen with the rain and burst its banks. The water was no longer clear but dark with mud and debris, and I couldn’t see the bottom. The water rushed over rocks and grass and swirled around the base of trees. Eddies flowed and whirlpools sucked water. Annie stood at the edge of the bank, her feet sinking into the mud.
She looked into my eyes. She touched her forefinger to her temple, and then she stepped backward.
Chapter Seventeen
I pulled off my shoe and then my sock. I gave the sock a good twist and watched muddy water drip to the ground. “That was cold.”
Two officers led Annie away. Her hands were behind her back, her head down. She didn’t protest and she didn’t struggle.
“Be sure you get her into a pair of dry socks as soon as possible,” I called after them.
“Why did you chase her, Gemma?” Ryan Ashburton crouched on the grass in front of me. “That was a foolish thing to do. She might have had a weapon, and you knew we’d arrived. We’re not in the wilderness here. She wasn’t going to get away.”
“Pure instinct, I suppose.” I pulled off my other shoe and sock and then I held one hand out. Ryan stood up and pulled me to my feet. I glanced at the stream. “I … uh … thought the water was deeper than it turned out to be.”
Annie had taken two steps backward into the swirling water and sunk all the way up to her ankles. I’d taken one step, and held out my hand. She took it and allowed me to lead her to dry—dryish—land.
As rescues went, it had been a feeble attempt.
“I’m from England,” I said. “We English tend to believe that in America you have mighty flowing rivers.”
“We do have mighty flowing rivers,” Ryan said. “We also have cheerful babbling brooks.”
“In my defense, I’ll point out that the mud in the water disguised the depth. The other day the water was perfectly clear. Sparkling even. I could see stones on the bottom and little fish frolicking about.”
Ryan and I walked up to the house together. I held my shoes in my hands and tried to avoid stepping on small sharp rocks.
“Jayne told me not to let Miranda leave,” he said. “Is she involved in this?”
“The extent of Miranda’s involvement is to be determined, but at the least she knew far more about what had happened to David Masterson than she told you.”
“Before we go in, can you tell me quickly what went on out here? You’ll have to make a formal statement later.”
I explained what I’d overheard and what I’d seen in the kitchen garden.
“Why did you come outside to look for them in the first place?”
“It seemed uncharacteristic of her that Miranda wasn’t involving herself in the argument going on in the music room. Cliff had left in a heck of a hurry after going for a walk with Miranda. I thought I’d better check up on her.”
“You thought Cliff had killed Miranda?”
“No, I didn’t. He and Miranda had gone outside to talk in private, and they’d been seen leaving the house together by several people. He’d argued with Miranda and then departed in great haste, which had been observed by none other than me. If she was found dead shortly after, the police might come to the logical conclusion that he’d killed her. Meaning, it was the perfect time for Annie to make her move.”
“How’d you know it was Annie?”
“When Jayne and I arrived at the house, Annie opened the door to us before my knock had so much as died away. She’d been in the front hall, standing at the window. I suspect she’d been lurking outside the kitchen garden, listening to Cliff and Miranda argue. When he left, she ran through the house to see what Cliff did next. He didn’t come inside but walked around the house, got into his car, and drove away. She saw him leave, and I confirmed that he’d been driving fast in apparent distress. I would have made a reliable witness at his trial.”
“You think she was thinking that clearly?”
“Oh yes. When I was trying to talk her down, first in the garden when she had Miranda by the throat, and then by the stream, of which the less said the better, I murmured all sorts of comforting words to the effect that I knew she’d been justified in killing David and trying to kill Miranda. Obviously, I don’t believe anything of the sort. Not at all. She came here, on this weekend, with her blowgun and her dart intending to kill him. She did so, and she might have got away with it, considering the plethora of suspects. I’ve never known anyone to surround themselves with so many people who had reason to want to see him dead as David Masterson. But Miranda, the eternal snoop, had seen the blowgun and dart in Annie’s luggage. I saw Miranda poking around in the morning room on Friday evening, when the others were in the drawing room. I believe she’d been in Jayne’s room, the one who’d moved Jayne’s ring that first night. She picked it up to check out the quality of the stone and didn’t put it back properly. As long as nothing was taken, I let it go and I didn’t confront her. I didn’t think she’d be so bold as to actually open suitcases. That was obviously a mistake. I should have told you, so you could have asked if she’d come across anything in her snooping.”
