Cruel as the Grave (13 page)

A sound suspiciously like a snort came from Lavinia's direction, but everyone stood up just then, pushing chairs back from the table, so Maggie couldn’t be sure she had heard it. Ernie cast a bland glance in Lavinia’s direction but otherwise did nothing to acknowledge her. They trooped after the policeman and the lawyer who, Maggie noted, moved quite spryly for someone in his late seventies.

In the entertainment room Adrian rearranged the chairs so that the configuration was as it had been the night before. The small sofa where Maggie and Helena had sat was centered several feet in front of the large television screen. Directly behind the sofa by about six feet were three comfortable, high-backed leather chairs. There were three more chairs several feet to the left of the ones in the center and three to the right, forming a loose semicircle behind the sofa. Off to the right side were two larger sofas, positioned perpendicular to the small sofa. A small table with a lamp divided the two.

Arthur Latham and Lyle Levering stood to one side as the others assumed their places. Maggie twisted around to see where the others had been sitting the night before. Right behind her and Helena, Adrian sat in the middle chair with Sylvia to his left. To Sylvia’s left, and several feet away, sat Lavinia. Next to her sat Claudine, with Harold on her left.

There was an empty chair on Adrian’s right side, with some space to its right, followed by another empty chair. Ernie, taking Retty’s place, sat next to the empty chair, with Gerard to her right.

Maggie attempted to memorize their positions. Glancing at her companion, however, Maggie was amused to see that Helena had pulled a small notebook from her running suit— electric lime this morning—and was surreptitiously making a diagram of the scene.

Latham moved to stand in front of the television screen while Levering sank into the cushions of one of the larger sofas. Latham looked right at Maggie and Helena. “You told me last night that neither one of you moved from your seats during the movie. Right?”

Maggie and Helena nodded an emphatic yes.

Latham then glanced at the others. “Everyone else, if I remember correctly from your statements last night, got up at some point and left the room.”

Turning their heads, Maggie and Helena watched each of the others nod slowly in turn. Ernie, prompted by Gerard, nodded as “Retty.”

“How clearly could those of you in the chairs see anyone else?” Latham asked.

Adrian spoke first. “Well, Helena and Maggie were easy to see, of course, because the only light in the room—from the television screen—was shining right on them. I could see Sylvia too, and generally the others on either side of us, but most of the time I wasn’t paying attention to anything except the movie.”

Sylvia concurred. “I got up once to go to the bathroom,” she said. “I guess it was about halfway through the movie, and after I came back, I think Claudine went a few minutes later. Adrian had already gone, and when Claudine came back, none of the three of us left again.” She shrugged. “I really didn’t notice anyone else.”

“Is that right?” Latham asked Claudine and Adrian. They agreed that it was.

Harold said that he had left the room twice, once during the first half hour of the movie and again toward the end. Claudine confirmed this.

Latham then turned to Gerard and Ernie-Retty. Gerard spoke for both of them. “I left the room only once, late in the movie. In fact, I met Harold in the hallway as I was coming back.” He looked across at his uncle, who nodded. “Retty left once, about midway through the movie. Neither Maggie nor Helena ever moved from the sofa, unless they did so while I was out of the room, but I don’t think they did.”

The others agreed they had not seen either Maggie or Helena leave the room. “As I said before,” Adrian commented, “they were in pretty plain sight the whole time.”

Latham nodded. “Yes, you’ve all made that fairly clear. Now—” he started to say, but Helena forestalled him, a triumphant note in her voice.

“And that means that only Maggie and I have alibis for Henry’s murder. Doesn’t it?”

Arthur Latham frowned in annoyance at Helena’s remark. “Just why do you think that, Miss Helena?” he asked her in a tone that managed to be both repressive and somehow polite. Maggie marveled again at the Southern capacity for courtesy even under trying circumstances.

Slightly abashed, Helena subsided against the cushions of the couch. “Well, I don’t really know, of course, but it just seems kind of reasonable that whoever killed Henry did it while we were all watching the movie. That would have been the best time.”

Clearly she had brought up a point which he hadn’t been ready to discuss, as he frowned in response. But now that the subject had been broached, Latham seemed inclined to answer Helena's question.

“The coroner finished his examination this morning. According to him, death occurred most likely within two to three hours of the discovery of the body. In other words, not earlier than about 7:00 p.m.” Latham paused for a moment, glancing around at the faces of his audience.

“Of course, Miss Sylvia Butler claims that Mr. McLendon was alive when she left him around seven-thirty to come downstairs to watch the movie.”

A small sound of protest came from Sylvia’s direction. Latham waved a hand peremptorily lest someone interrupt him. “If it hadn’t been for other evidence which has come to light, Miss Butler’s situation might be a little more difficult. But, as y’all may remember, Mr. Levering here received a phone call from Mr. McLendon last night.”

We’d all forgotten about that. Maggie grimaced. Her grandfather had wanted to change his will. Did that precipitate his murder? This question set her mind spinning onto various tangents.

Lyle Levering spoke from his comfortable seat at the side of the room. “Henry called me last night right around eight o’clock, told me he wanted to see me this morning about changing his will. And I do assure you that it was Henry McLendon I talked to.” He smiled grimly. “Well, we talked only for about five minutes, then he hung up. But Henry was alive at eight o’clock last night.”

“Thank you, Mr. Levering,” Latham said. He turned his attention back to the family. “Now, as you see, we have a time frame that the murder has to fit into.” He offered a small bow in Helena’s direction. “And, as Miss Helena said, that frame does provide an alibi for her and Maggie, since by eight o’clock, y’all were already watching the movie.”

Helena and Maggie both breathed small sighs of relief, but Maggie cast a worried look at her father. She knew he was innocent, but his position as the prodigal son might make things difficult for him. Helena, evidently intuiting the direction of her thoughts, squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“Maggie,” Latham spoke quietly, but still Maggie started in surprise, “Miss Helena, and of course. Miss Carpenter, may now be excused for a while. The rest I’d like to stay here. Y’all made statements last night about your movements in and out of this room, and I want to go over all that again with you.” He looked pointedly at Maggie and Helena. “Now, if you three ladies will excuse us.”

“Certainly,” Helena said, jumping up from the sofa and pulling Maggie with her. She motioned for Ernie to follow them. Turning back toward the policeman, she asked, “Shall I see if Retty feels up to joining you down here? Or would you rather wait to talk to her upstairs?”

Latham considered her gravely for a moment. “I’ll be up to talk to her shortly, so there’s no need to trouble her just now, thanks all the same.” His tone indicated disinterest in further help from her, at least for the moment.

“Okay,” Helena replied meekly. “Come on, girls.”

The same young police officer who had watched over them the previous night was standing beside the door, but Maggie had never even noticed him. There was no telling how many men Arthur Latham had sprinkled around the house.

Helena led the way directly upstairs to her bedroom, down the hall in the opposite direction from Maggie’s room. This room faced the back, as did Maggie’s, and structurally it was similar, with the same large French doors leading out onto a balcony. The room was furnished eclectically. That was the kindest word Maggie could use to describe what she saw. She didn’t know a lot about furniture, but it was obvious, even to her untrained eye, that the styles of the various pieces did not match. The one common quality, she felt certain, was the price tag. Mismatched as it was, this furniture looked expensive.

Helena plopped down on a brocaded sofa with claw feet and gestured for Maggie to join her. She pointed Ernie to a steel-and-leather chair nearby.

Ernie wasted no time. “Well, the family’s in one hell of a mess this time.” Her tone indicated that this was a state of affairs not likely to endure for long, and Maggie was delighted to hear the note of assurance in her cousin’s voice. Ernie might be just what they all needed.

Ernie grinned at Maggie, who thought for a moment that the woman had read her mind. “Sorry about this morning,” Ernie apologized again. “I never meant to frighten you, but once I came into the room and saw you sleeping there, so defenseless, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on you.” She grinned. “I bet you’ll lock that bathroom door tonight.”

Maggie grinned back. “You bet I will!”

Helena looked from one to the other, and Ernie quickly told her how she had surprised Maggie that morning. Helena joined in the laughter as Maggie described her reaction to Ernie’s presence in her bedroom.

“Well, I suppose,” Ernie said, once the laughter had subsided, “that we could spend the whole morning catching up with one another, but I guess we ought to discuss what we’re going to do about Henry’s death first.”

Assuming that she could take their cooperation for granted, Ernie continued before either Maggie or Helena could say anything. “I suppose the first thing we should do is figure out who actually had the opportunity to do it. Motive’s important, of course, but if you don’t have opportunity, motive’s not much good.” She glanced uncertainly at Maggie before turning toward Helena. “There are probably plenty of motives, once we start shifting through all the skeletons in the McLendon family closets—”

Helena interrupted her. “I’ve already told Maggie the worst, Ernie.”

Maggie nodded. Her conversation with Helena seemed more like a bizarre dream now than an actual conversation. Fortunately for her peace of mind, she had been too busy thus far this morning to give much thought to what her great-aunt had told her in the small hours of the morning. Now, however, she would have to confront everything head-on.

“That’s good, I guess,” Ernie remarked, “although it’s a shame for Maggie to have to hear the worst about the family before she gets to hear much of the good.” She grinned again. “And believe it or not, there are some good things about this family. It may take us a while, but eventually we'll get around to them.

“Now then,” she continued briskly, “let’s talk about opportunity. From what I heard this morning, everybody in the house, except the daytime help—and that includes the cook—and you two, had the opportunity of sneaking out of the room while the movie was going on.” She ticked the suspects off on her fingers. “Gerard, Lavinia, Retty, Harold, Sylvia, Claudine, and Adrian. That’s seven—although I’m sure we can count Gerard out—but it’s better for the sake of discussion not to leave any possibilities out.”

Maggie hated talking about her father as a murder suspect, but Ernie was probably right. What mattered in the long run was getting to the truth, and Gerard would know his daughter couldn’t really consider him seriously as a suspect.

Helena broke in before Ernie could continue. “I performed a little experiment this morning.” She looked slightly embarrassed. “I thought I’d time how long it took to run upstairs from the TV room and back down again.” She swallowed hard. “And I estimated how long it would take to... er... do what the murderer did.”

“Well?” Ernie demanded as her cousin stopped. “How long did it take?”

“I did it several times. The first time was as fast as I could, just like I thought a younger person could do it. It didn’t even take five minutes. So, I suppose Gerard, Sylvia, Adrian, or Claudine could have done it in as much time—or less even— than I did. It takes that much time just to go to the bathroom. Lavinia, Retty, and Harold are all in pretty good condition for their age, but I think you’d about have to double the time for them. And that’s still not an unreasonable length of time for someone to be gone during the movie.”

Ernie was impressed with Helena’s “experiment” and said so. “In that case, I guess any one of them could have done it without anybody really thinking much about how long they’d been gone from the movie.” Ernie frowned. “But what about the weapon? Anybody have any idea what happened?”

Maggie felt sick to her stomach, because she was certain she knew the answer. Hearing her voice coming as if from far away, she explained as dispassionately as possible what she thought had been used.

“Dear God in Heaven,” Ernie said, her face pale. “A baseball bat! Dear Lord above!” She closed her eyes for a moment, as if in prayer. Helena stared off into space.

Drawing a deep breath, Ernie went on. “Well, since a weapon was so ready at hand, it would take only a few seconds and then the killer could dash back downstairs.”

“I agree with everything you’ve both said so far,” Maggie remarked, forcing herself not to dwell on mental images of her grandfather’s bludgeoned body, “but there are a couple of points which puzzle me, and I think they’re important ones.

“First of all, how did the murderer know that there would be a weapon on hand? And second, what happened to make the murderer act so quickly? In other words, what made it necessary that the murderer act last night rather than today or tomorrow?”

Ernie nodded briskly. “Very good questions. And you’re right—they are important.” She looked at Helena. “Got any answers?”

Helena shrugged. “Well, the first one’s easy enough. Henry had a pretty busy day yesterday. He talked to more of the family in that one day than he probably had the whole week before that.” She turned to Maggie. “Lately, Henry was pretty quiet. He didn’t encourage us to come by his room to chat, and honestly, none of us really felt the urge. If he ever wanted to talk to us, he would tell Sylvia or Claudine or Adrian, and we’d be summoned for an audience.”