Cruel as the Grave (12 page)

As she turned, Maggie, still half-asleep, noticed that someone had pulled a chair next to the bed. And that someone was smiling seraphically at her.

Maggie screamed, but the figure only frowned in dismay. It didn’t leave. In fact, it moved solicitously closer, stretching out a hand.

“Who the hell are you?” Maggie, now wide-awake, asked as she inched as far away from the questing hand as she could.

While the unknown visitor struggled to frame a reply, someone knocked on Maggie’s bedroom door. The visitor moved to unlock the door, and Gerard, dressed in chinos and button-down shirt, his hair still damp, burst into the room. He frowned in relief as he saw Maggie lying puzzled, but unhurt, in the bed. Then his gaze took in Maggie’s companion. He grinned broadly as he said, “I might have known!” He engulfed her in a hug, held her tightly for a few moments, then stepped back. “Ernie! How the heck are you?”

“I’m doing well, Gerryboy.” The woman grinned at Gerard, displaying a magnificent set of teeth for someone Maggie judged to be around sixty. She turned to Maggie apologetically. “I’m so sorry I scared you—I just came up to pay my respects to Magnolia, not having any idea that anyone would be sleeping in here. And when I saw you, I just couldn’t leave.” She frowned at Gerard. “Besides, I figured somebody ought to be keeping an eye out for you, since this shiftless father of yours wasn’t doing anything to protect you.”

Maggie sagged weakly against the headboard. Maybe this person had escaped from the state mental hospital Helena had told her about. But, no, she obviously was acquainted with the family. Who on earth was she?

Gerard and the woman were still grinning at each other, so it was a moment before they noticed Maggie’s irritated stare.

“I’m Ernestine Carpenter, but most people call me Ernie.” Her voice, dark and rich in tone, reminded Maggie of Lauren Bacall. “My mother and Gerard’s grandmother were sisters, so that makes you and me cousins.”

Cousin or no, the woman had given Maggie a good scare, and she wasn’t quite ready to smile and hug this new relative. At least, not until Maggie had had her bath and several ounces of cold caffeine.

Ernie apparently realized that Maggie was slightly out of sorts at the moment, for she began pushing Gerard out the door. “We’d better get going so Maggie can get up,” she said firmly. She smiled at Maggie. “I’ll make my apologies later—see you downstairs!” The door snapped shut behind them, and Maggie sank down on her pillows.

Now that her heart had resumed its normal rate, Maggie could see some of the humor of the situation. From what little she had seen, Gerard was fond of this cousin, and that was a good sign. She yawned as she pushed back the covers. As she was getting out of bed, she spied the key to the bedroom door on the bedside table where Ernie had placed it.

She was certain that she had locked the door before she had gone to bed. How, then, had Ernestine gained access to her room? Surely the woman didn’t have a set of keys to all the rooms in the house. And from the way she had talked, no one had known she was coming upstairs to Magnolia’s room, so no one would have furnished her with a key.

Shaking her head, Maggie wandered into the bathroom, where she looked blearily into the mirror. She was never at her best first thing in the morning, even after a good night’s sleep. She was not one of those people who bounce perkily out of the bed each morning, eager to greet the new day. Getting up each morning was the low point of her day.

As she turned to begin running water into a bathtub that would easily have accommodated several Sumo wrestlers, her eyes saw something she had overlooked the day before whenever she had come into the bathroom. There was a door in the bathroom which gave access to the hallway. Maggie walked over to it and twisted the knob. It opened easily.

“Damn!” she said. She had lain there all night within easy reach of anyone who had wanted to enter her room. She couldn’t blame Ernie for her own carelessness.

Half an hour later, after a steaming soak in the massive tub, with her hair nearly dry, Maggie dressed comfortably in a khaki skirt and navy blue polo shirt. Her stomach had begun to rumble, so she went downstairs in search of breakfast. It was after nine o’clock, so the rest of the family were probably already downstairs.

She found them all, except for Retty, in the dining room. One look at the tired, miserable faces around the table lessened Maggie’s appetite somewhat. Ernie and Gerard, sitting at one end, were engaged in a reasonably cheerful conversation, catching up on two decades of news, but the rest picked at the appetizing food on their plates. She helped herself to scrambled eggs, biscuits, and bacon from the steaming dishes on the sideboard and took a seat next to her father. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, wishing instead for a Diet Coke.

Ernie interrupted her conversation with Gerard to apologize to Maggie for scaring her. Maggie, her sense of humor somewhat restored by several mouthfuls of the delicious food, waved Ernie’s apologies aside. But to satisfy her curiosity, Maggie did ask whether Ernie had entered through the bathroom door.

“Yes, I did,” she responded laughingly. “I remembered there was a separate door from the hallway, and since I needed to make a stop there anyway, I just went in that door. It wasn’t until I had... er... finished, that I realized someone else had been using the bathroom. Then I peeked into the bedroom and saw you in the bed. The rest you know.” She beamed at Maggie.

Maggie smiled back, then devoted her attention to her food as Ernie resumed her conversation with Gerard. While Maggie ate, she avoided looking at anyone except her father and Ernie. After Helena’s revelations Maggie found it difficult to face any of them without recalling the secrets Helena had told her. Being privy to such knowledge might prove necessary, Maggie realized, but necessity did little to relieve her discomfort.

Adrian wandered in and out while they ate, checking the contents of the dishes on the sideboard, occasionally taking an empty one away. He ambled over to inquire whether she had everything she wanted. Maggie, her mouth full of biscuit and grape jam, swallowed quickly, then asked for a Diet Coke.

Flashing an amused grin, Adrian departed and returned scarcely three minutes later with a large glass of Maggie’s favorite beverage. “Thanks!” She flashed him a shy smile.

The doorbell rang distantly, and everyone tensed. Maggie could feel the change in the atmosphere immediately. Adrian left the room, returning soon after with Arthur Latham and someone Maggie had never seen, an elderly man whose sloping posture gave him the appearance of a tortoise.

“Good morning, everyone,” Latham said briskly. “I’m sorry to trouble you again so early this morning, but, as I’m sure you’ll realize, we can’t afford to lose any time in a situation like this. We have a report from the coroner’s office, as well as some additional evidence. I'd like to go over all your statements again.” He looked around the table, noting the absence of one family member and the addition of one other. “Miss Carpenter, how are you? It’s been a while.” Not waiting for a response, he continued, “How is Mrs. Butler this morning?”

Sylvia smiled nervously. “She’s still upset by all this, so I told her she should stay in bed. She wouldn’t let me call the doctor.” She frowned. “If you really need to talk to her, she might feel up to it by now.”

Latham inclined his head. “I do need to talk with each of you, but there’s no reason Mrs. Butler can’t rest a while longer.” He turned to his companion. “I guess y’all know Mr. Lyle Levering.”

The elderly man frowned at them all from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. Dressed in a fashionably cut black suit, he reminded Maggie of the much younger businessmen one might see on the streets of downtown Houston. Mr. Levering waved a hand at them.

“We’re all old friends here, Arthur, more or less.” His eyes had fastened upon Maggie and Gerard with a puzzled look of semi-recognition. “Yes, old friends, I guess you’d say. Henry McLendon and I knew each other for over fifty years, ever since law school.” He peered shrewdly around the room, taking a quick look at each face. “Henry called me last night, said he wanted to change his will, asked me to come over this morning. I came anyway, even though they said on the news that he’d been murdered.”

Chapter Nine

After the lawyer made his announcement, Maggie glanced around the room to see the expressions of her family.

Lavinia appeared insufferably bored with the whole proceedings, but Maggie was willing to bet that her great-aunt was much more interested than she let on. Helena and Harold were plainly curious. They kept looking back and forth between their plates and each other’s faces. Adrian stood aloof from the family, while Claudine and Sylvia toyed with the food on their plates.

If Lyle Levering and Arthur Latham had hoped for some startling revelation after their surprise announcement, they were surely disappointed in the results of their stratagem, Maggie thought. These people were much too practiced in schooling their emotions to let such a cliched trick unnerve them.

Ernie, Maggie could see, was highly entertained by it all. Patting her lips with the linen napkin, Ernie attempted without much success to hide her wide grin. She winked wickedly at Maggie when she caught the younger woman looking her way.

Latham cleared his throat. “Well, since most everybody’s right here. I’d like to clarify, if we can, your movements last night. But, before we start, I do have one question. Miss Carpenter, I was just wondering, when did you get here? And why are you here, if I may ask?”

“Hello, Arthur, good to see you again, except for the circumstances. Well, I got here just a couple of hours ago, I guess. As to the reason I’m here, late last night I got a call from Cousin Helena, telling me what had happened, and I thought I should be here to support my family in this time of... of difficulty.” She paused, making a move to push her chair back from the table. “I'll be glad to withdraw from the room, if you wish.”

Latham sighed. “I suppose you might as well stay, now that you’re here.” Ernie grinned at him. He pulled one of the empty chairs from the table and sat down, motioning for Levering to do the same. “Now, about last night.”

Maggie wondered what he was hoping to accomplish by this group interview. Did he think he would catch one of them in a lie? This could prove interesting. She sat back to watch, noticing as she did that Ernie was surveying the room, alert for anything that might happen.

The rest of the McLendons looked tentatively at one another, and then Harold spoke in his patient, well-modulated lecturer’s voice. “Well, we usually dine at six-thirty, and last night was no exception. Everyone except Henry and Sylvia were at the table.” He frowned, then turned his head to look at Claudine. “I believe Claudine came in just a few minutes after we had begun eating.”

Aware that all attention had focused on her, Claudine took a deep breath before responding. “Yes, I was running a little behind yesterday.” She looked steadily at Latham. “Yesterday was my evening off, and once Sylvia relieved me in the afternoon, I went shopping and to a movie. I got back a little later than I had planned, and I dropped by to check on Sylvia and Mr. Henry before I came down to dinner. Sylvia asked me if I’d mind staying with him while she went down to the kitchen to check on his dinner. Whoever's with him in the evenings,” she explained, “has... er... had to bring up his dinner from the kitchen because the daytime help all leave at six-thirty.” Latham nodded encouragement, making a quick notation in his little book.

“That’s about it, really,” Claudine continued. “I was with him, oh, probably not even ten minutes, and then Sylvia was back, and I came on down to dinner, just a few minutes late.” She frowned. “But we went through all of this last night.”

“Yes, we did,” Latham answered her firmly. “But sometimes it’s necessary to go through everything several times.”

He looked across the expanse of linen-covered table at Sylvia. “I believe that fits in with what you told me last night, right?”

Sylvia nodded. “I hated to ask Claudine to stay there on her night off while I went downstairs—ordinarily Uncle Henry was all right on his own—but he overdid it a little yesterday, and he was fussy last night. I just felt better having someone with him, and I knew Adrian would be busy enough down here.”

She trailed off, then revived momentarily as another thought surfaced. “But by the time I came downstairs to watch the movie, Uncle Henry seemed to have settled down. I felt like I could leave him to rest, just like we always did. And I had my beeper, in case he needed anything.” Her voice held a pitiable appeal. She was clearly upset at the thought that someone had murdered her patient while she had been enjoying a movie downstairs.

Claudine reached over to pat her hand reassuringly, and Sylvia smiled back.

“Right,” Latham said. “Let’s switch back to downstairs for the moment. How long were y’all at the dinner table?”

This time Adrian spoke. “We were all in here for close to an hour. I’d guess. I looked at my watch when we moved to the room where we watched the movie, and it was about seven- twenty-five then.”

Seeing Latham’s nod, Adrian continued his narrative. “Sylvia joined us there, and we talked for a few minutes until the movie was selected. Helena suggested that Maggie choose the movie, which she did. Then we settled down to watch the movie, which I believe runs something over two hours, say two-and-a-quarter, so that would make it roughly quarter to ten or ten o’clock when we finished it.”

Latham consulted his notebook, flipping through several pages before he found what he wanted. “The call from this house to the police station was recorded at ten-oh-three, so that time frame sounds about right.” He glanced around the table. “I think, if you don’t mind, we’ll go into the other room now so I can get a clearer idea as to what you all were doing.” He stood up. “Miss Carpenter, if you wouldn’t mind standing in for Mrs. Butler for a while. I’m sure the others will tell you just what to do.”

Ernie beamed. “I’d be delighted, Arthur, to assist in any way.”