Armed (33 page)

BOOK: Armed

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“So you’re saying Monica set up Emmanuelle?” Mom asked.

“Yes. Or anyone actually, as long as it cast suspicion elsewhere. Another thing, Mrs. Scott bookmarked a college in Redding. She obviously saw the similarity to Irwin and found a picture of Monica on the Internet at some school she had attended. Monica planned to kill Mrs. Scott. Totally premeditated. And then there was the shorthand note. Once I figured out the Redding connection,
could it be MS
fell into place.”

Mom shook her head. “Could it be Monica Scott? How awful. I read in the paper she used her grandmother’s maiden name of Ballister.”

“She legally changed it a few years ago. She had this planned for a long time,” John said.

That sent a chill up my spine to think someone plotted to kill another for so long.

“I spent all of last night in the hospital interrogating her and she really is crazy.” John’s eyes locked with mine. I noticed small lines around his eyes, but something else, a real tenderness I hadn’t been sure about.

“She told me she planned on killing Mrs. Scott on Christmas but Mrs. Scott figured it out and then Monica overheard Mrs. Scott and Mr. Poupée planning to meet that night. That same day another bit of information fell into her lap by chance. Monica overheard Ruth phoning Emmanuelle. She knew, as most everyone did, that Emmanuelle worked at home at lot, and probably wouldn’t have a good alibi for the time of the killing.”

“One other thing, Monica is the person who broke into Mrs. Scott’s house. She wanted a picture of her father,” John added.

“Well, the murderer is caught, but what about the diamond smugglers?” Sam asked.

“Richard, Jerry, and Mr. Schwartz, right?” I looked toward John for conformation.

“Yes, that’s right.”

I squirmed in my chair, feeling uncomfortable on a whole lot of levels. I could’ve died yesterday. I could’ve died.

“Are you all right? Let’s go into the living room. It’s more comfortable,” Mom suggested.

We grabbed our drinks and sandwiches and went into the other room. Sam carried the platter with the turkey so she could pick off the rest of the meat.

“What about Emmanuelle—what happens to her?” Sam wanted to know.

“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” Mr. Poupée started, “but I don’t see any reason to fire her. She had nothing to do with the diamonds or the murder. She’s done a remarkable job for us. I believe everyone deserves a second chance. And with Richard gone, there’ll be an opening to fill. I’ll keep an eye on her, though, you can count on that.”

I fidgeted in my seat and, finally finding a comfortable position, asked, “And the museum job? Did you find out, Mr. Poupée, exactly what happened?”

“Well, Alex, you’re not the only one around here good at figuring things out. In all the excitement I forgot to tell you. I learned that the other firm is in Virginia. Seems Joanne gave them a copy of our proposal. Well, most of it, anyway. Mrs. Scott asked her to makes copies and she conveniently made a copy for herself. Mitch had an interview with this other firm at some point and Joanne went with him. She and the owner started an affair and he promised her a great job if she could help him get a copy of the proposal.”

“Joanne! Well, I’ll be. So she was just using Mitch.”

“In a way. She pumped him for information about the design but she planned to bring him along to the other firm once she got her new position,” Mr. Poupée said. “We’ve contacted the museum and the other firm has agreed to withdraw their bid in exchange for our not pressing charges. I told them definitely not. I plan to press charges next week and the museum wants nothing to do with them. I’m also pressing charges against Joanne.”

“I’ll bet her back problems were fake. She just used that as an excuse to fly down to Virginia and sell the plans, right?”

“That’s right.” Mr. Poupée stopped, took a deep breath and then continued. “I’ve been an old fool. I never looked around me. Joanne, Richard, Jerry. How could I have been so blind? And Elvira killed.” He shook his head while Dolly reached over and touched his face.

“Mr. Poupée,” I said, “You can’t take any blame for what happened to Mrs. Scott. You couldn’t have known about Monica. Mrs. Scott didn’t even know at first. And as for the other, maybe next time just don’t give your assistant so much responsibility that you lose contact with your employees. It’ll work out fine. I’ll make sure you get the right person for the job.”

Mr. Poupée smiled at me and Mom went to make more coffee.

*****

The afternoon light faded into night. Everyone, including Dad and Mom, discreetly left John and me alone. Meme gave me a thumbs-up before my mother dragged her back to the kitchen.

“Alone a last,” John settled next to me on the sofa. “Promise me you’ll never, never take off like that again?” He slipped his arm over the top of the sofa and touched my hair.

“That’s easy. Before Mrs. Scott, I think the only murder in Indian Cove took place about a hundred and fifty years ago. So I doubt I’ll be around for the next one.”

“From now on, just leave murder and mayhem to the police.”

“Yes sir!” I saluted with my left hand.

“Alex?”

“If you’re going to ask if you can kiss me, the answer is yes.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

I looked dejected. I didn’t know if we’d be able to get past this awkward stage. Had I gotten everything wrong? Was John just a good policeman concerned for a fellow citizen?

He leaned close to my face and brushed his hand along my cheek. “I wanted to ask if you’re free New Year’s Eve.”

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