Death and Honesty (21 page)
Authors: Cynthia Riggs
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy
Victoria climbed the steps to Ellen’s side door, brushing past the lilac bushes that grew on either side. It was a little over a week ago that she’d climbed those same steps and found Lucy’s body. It seemed much longer. She took a deep breath and knocked. She waited, then knocked again. When there was still no answer, she tried the door. It was unlocked and she peered into the neat kitchen.
“Ellen?” she called from the doorway.
No answer.
She went hastily through the tidy downstairs rooms, the dining room, the unused parlor, feeling very much the intruder. Hesitantly, she climbed to the second floor. There, she heard a flurry of activity. A door slammed. Drawers opened and shut. In the front bedroom someone was breathing in heavy, labored gasps. Victoria headed that way. Through the half-open door she saw a suitcase on the bed with clothing being hurled into it.
“Ellen?” she called.
The activity stopped abruptly.
“Mrs. Trumbull?”
Ellen was standing, her arms full of clothing. Perspiration trickled down her forehead. Her normally neat hair straggled out of its pins in disorder. She wore a rumpled and soiled black sweat suit.
“No!” she said, and dropped into the chair next to the bed. She held up her hands as though to protect herself. “No, no, no!”
Victoria remembered Bertie’s gift and pulled the scrap of black fabric from her pocket. “This is yours, isn’t it?”
Ellen looked down at her left pants leg where there was a ragged tear. “The dog attacked me.”
“Did he hurt you?” asked Victoria.
“Merely a scratch. If he hadn’t gone after me …”
“Better put some antiseptic on it. Can I get it for you?”
Ellen took a deep breath and let it out. “In the bathroom cabinet.”
Victoria returned with a brown bottle of peroxide and a handful of cotton balls.
Ellen held out her hand for the bottle. “I’ll take care of it, Victoria. If only that dog …”
“It was more than Bertie,” said Victoria. “We were closing in on you.” Victoria gestured at the open suitcase. “You can’t run, you know. More than anyone else, you must know that.”
Ellen’s eyes darted from one side of the room to the other, from the strewn clothing on the floor, to the suitcase on her rumpled bed, and back to Victoria. She took another deep breath, as though to store up as much free air as she could. She held the peroxide bottle, unopened. “I made one mistake too many,” she said.
“Your mistakes go back a long time,” said Victoria. “An avalanche you couldn’t stop once you’d set it in motion.”
“You know, now, that I killed them, don’t you.”
“Yes,” said Victoria.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?” Ellen looked up. “Knowing what I’ve done? What I’m capable of doing?”
“You won’t harm anyone else,” said Victoria. “You’ve come to the end and you know it. You can’t escape.”
Ellen sighed, and tossed a sweater she’d been holding onto the bed.
Victoria sat down on the end of the bed. “You surprised Oliver while he was looking at your property card, didn’t you,” she continued. “Oliver had taken the cards home with him, including yours.”
Ellen looked away.
“I saw what was on your card.”
“Then you know,” said Ellen.
“Yes. You no longer own your house.”
Ellen looked away.
“You’d better treat that dog bite,” said Victoria, indicating the wound. “Even a scratch can become nasty.”
Ellen twisted the bottle cap and stopped.
“How did you lose it?” Victoria asked softly.
“An unwise, stupid investment.” Ellen closed her eyes.
Suddenly, everything made sense to Victoria. “TruArt Productions?”
“Fine-art films. A sure thing, he told me. A risk-free money maker. A cultural asset.” She laughed without humor. “The Reverend True showed me a slick, bound prospectus, and I fell for it.”
“You had a lot of money to hide, didn’t you?”
“Not only mine, but the other girls’, too.”
“Ocypete and Selena?”
“I talked them into sinking their money into TruArt. I had more than a hundred thousand dollars of my own I’d saved in cash …”
“Cash!?” said Victoria.
“Yes.” Ellen smiled. “I was trying to avoid a paper trail to cover up for having so much cash. I even ‘sold’ my house to him with the understanding that the transaction was in name only. He assured me that the house was still mine. I trusted him, and he cheated me. He lied and sold my house out from under me to pay his bills.”
Victoria whistled softly. “You’ve lost everything.”
Ellen nodded.
Victoria said, “Henry is paying huge sums to the mob for so-called protection. Far more than his company is taking in. He doesn’t dare not pay. Do you want me to dress your wound?”
“No. No, I’ll do it.” Ellen unscrewed the cap the rest of the way and poured peroxide onto the cotton balls. She pulled up the torn leg of her sweatpants.
Victoria frowned. The wound was not a mere scratch. It was a jagged slash above her ankle, flesh torn to the bone. Blood had poured into Ellen’s running shoe and the wound was still oozing blood.
“That needs stitches,” said Victoria. “And you’ll have to get a tetanus shot.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“We’ve got to stop the bleeding. Now. I’ll bind up your ankle until we can get you to a doctor.” She went to the bathroom and
returned with a roll of gauze. She pulled a chair over for Ellen to set her foot on, and knelt beside her.
returned with a roll of gauze. She pulled a chair over for Ellen to set her foot on, and knelt beside her.
“I can understand your anger at Henry,” Victoria said as she wrapped gauze around Ellen’s ankle, “but why didn’t you kill him, rather than the pilot? Not that I condone any killing.”
“I intended to kill Reverend True.” Ellen winced as Victoria pulled the gauze tightly over the wound. “I thought the pilot was the reverend. Another mistake.”
“How could you possibly mistake the pilot for Henry? They weren’t at all alike.”
“I’d never met Reverend True. I’d only talked to him on the phone and corresponded with him.”
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” asked Victoria.
“That’s all right. Someone told me Reverend True was on Island, so I called him, disguising my voice. I told him I was an admirer of his television show and I wanted to meet him and get his autograph. I never gave him my name, of course.”
“Didn’t he seem suspicious of you?”
“In retrospect, he must have been. I think he sent the pilot in his place, sensing something was wrong.” She looked down as Victoria finished wrapping the gauze around her ankle. “Thanks, Mrs. Trumbull.”
Victoria got to her feet again. “I suppose after that Henry was very careful.”
Ellen nodded. “I didn’t get another chance.”
“He thought Delilah’s chauffeur had killed the pilot, you know. I don’t think he suspected you for a moment.”
“When I called him, I said I was visiting the Island and would love to see his grounds. He agreed to meet me around sunset by his pond, one of his favorite times.” She lifted her foot off the chair. “I realize, now, that he wanted it dark, in case I’d seen pictures of him.”
“As an assessor, you must know that property well,” said Victoria.
“I had walked every inch of it, long before Delilah Sampson bought it. That evening, I hid in the underbrush. When the person I thought was the reverend showed up, I strangled him. And it wasn’t my intended victim after all.”
Victoria shivered.
Ellen noticed the shiver. “I know it seems cold-blooded to you, Victoria, but I was trained to kill.”
“You were in the military, weren’t you?”
“Intelligence.”
“Do you think you can walk all right?”
“You’re really a pretty good medic, you know,” Ellen said, examining the bandage. She got slowly to her feet. “I suppose the police are waiting for me?”
Victoria nodded. “I’ll ask them to take you directly to the hospital. But before we go, I have a few other questions. Sit down again.”
“I think I know what you’re about to ask,” Ellen said, as she slumped back into her chair. “I moved to West Tisbury after a twenty-year career in the military, still in my forties. I wanted to do my bit for my community. I ran unopposed for assessor, a job nobody wanted, and naturally I won. Selena and Ocypete were already in office. We three hit it off, early on. What we called our ‘setting-aside account’ started entirely by accident. We’d overbilled a taxpayer by mistake, and fully intended to refund his money. But he never questioned the overpayment.” She paused for several moments. “That’s how it started. After that, we targeted only a few people each year.”
“Did anyone ever question the bills?”
“A few. Not many. It was quite a modest scheme until Oliver Ashpine indulged in his over-the-top scam.”
“How did Tillie get involved?”
“Once we saw how easy it was to skim off a few thousand here and there, we decided it was a foolproof way to supplement our incomes.” She got to her feet again. “I suppose I should change my clothes.” She looked down at her torn, bloodstained pants and muddy, blood-soaked shoes.
“Do you need any help?”
“I think I have everything that I need right here.” She indicated the heap of clothing on the bed. “Actually, this is all I have left.” As Ellen changed her clothes she continued to talk. “We realized, as we got more ambitious, that we needed the support of the tax collector, as well as a trustworthy clerk. Lambert
Willoughby, who works in Town Hall, suspected what we were doing, so we had to cut him in. Lambert recommended Tillie, his sister, and she worked out perfectly. She couldn’t have been more trustworthy.”
Willoughby, who works in Town Hall, suspected what we were doing, so we had to cut him in. Lambert recommended Tillie, his sister, and she worked out perfectly. She couldn’t have been more trustworthy.”
“Trustworthy, I see,” Victoria repeated. “When did that change?”
“With Reverend True. Tillie wanted to be a movie star, and the reverend told her that his videos would be a sure entree into Hollywood. She decided she needed money to go to California, to buy a wardrobe, to take lessons, to rent an apartment. She started to pressure us for a larger share of the setting-aside account. Then she threatened to tell the selectmen what we were doing. We couldn’t tolerate blackmail, so she simply had to go.”
“Did the other assessors know you’d killed her?”
“They may have suspected. I don’t know. When Selena’s candy poisoned us but not her, I thought she’d caught on. She hadn’t, of course.”
“How did you lure Tillie up to the attic?”
“That was easy. During lunchtime when everyone was gone, we went up there together to look up some records. She had her back turned. I put my hands around her throat and throttled her. It’s quite easy, you know. I thought her body would mummify in that dry environment, and it did.” Ellen untied her shoes, slipped them off, and eased her torn sweatpants over her bandaged ankle.
“Why did you kill Lucy, Lambert’s mother-in-law?”
“Like most people in town, she thought Tillie had run off with that Edgartown man. When she ran into him at the Stop and Shop a couple of weeks ago, she asked about Tillie, and he had no idea what she was talking about.” Ellen selected a pair of slacks and slipped into them, then gently pulled on clean socks and shoes.
“We understood you were off Island at the dentist’s when Lucy was killed.”
“That was the only tricky killing to work out.” Ellen sat back in her chair. “I actually did have a dental appointment. I told Lucy I had an emergency dental appointment, and would be staying overnight in Falmouth. I asked her to take care of
Adolph. I took the early ferry to Woods Hole, but returned to the Island on the very next boat. It was still early when I arrived home. She was in the pantry I don’t think she even heard me. I strangled her with her own scarf. Then I took the next ferry to Woods Hole, went to the dentist, stayed overnight, and you know the rest.”
Adolph. I took the early ferry to Woods Hole, but returned to the Island on the very next boat. It was still early when I arrived home. She was in the pantry I don’t think she even heard me. I strangled her with her own scarf. Then I took the next ferry to Woods Hole, went to the dentist, stayed overnight, and you know the rest.”
“If you’re ready,” said Victoria, getting up from her chair, “we’d better go, Ellen. They’re waiting outside for us.”
A week later, Victoria and Howland were in the cookroom, drinking coffee and talking about the murders. Victoria sorted her mail and was slitting it open.
“Sad, isn’t it.” Victoria put the letter opener down and stirred her coffee. “Ellen Meadows got caught up in a scheme too good to pass up. As a result, three people are dead.”
“I’ll never understand how one human being can kill another,” said Howland.
“She was trained to kill. She was awarded medals for killing the right people. Now she’ll spend the rest of her life in prison.” She showed Howland a bill from the tax collector. “How can anyone afford to live here?”
“I think they’ll be adjusting the bills downwards, thanks to you, Victoria.”
She set the bill aside. “Whatever good reputations Selena, Ocypete, and Oliver had are gone forever. No one will ever trust them again. They, too, will go to prison for a long time. What will become of Lambert Willoughby?”
“He has to return all the money plus interest, and he’ll be on probation until he does,” said Howland.
“You knew Darcy from your work, didn’t you?”
“I knew who he was,” said Howland. “Emery Meyer. I suppose everyone in clandestine operations knows of him.”
“Darcy told me Senator Hammermill sent both him and the pilot to get evidence of Henry’s chicanery.” Victoria removed a check from an envelope and laid it next to the tax bill. “Another one of my poems was accepted. I’ll need to write a few more.”
“Why didn’t she tell Darcy up front?”
“That’s what Darcy said. Apparently she wanted them to work independently.”
“Henry thought Darcy was from the mob, here to kill him. He’ll feel safer in prison,” said Howland. “Have you talked to Delilah lately? What’s she going to do now that her property’s been repossessed?”
Victoria tossed a catalog into the trash. “This company sends me one every month. I refuse to do business with them. Waste, waste.”
“Delilah?” asked Howland.
“She’ll be fine. The town is leasing her house back to her at a fair rate,” said Victoria. “She’s opening a bed and breakfast with help from Lee, and the planning board approved a petting farm with chickens and fainting goats.” She tore up a sheaf of checks from her credit card company and tossed the pieces toward the trash. “Jordan gave her some honesty seeds. He told her honesty was invasive, so she had Darcy scatter them in front of Town Hall.”
“Has Darcy left yet?” asked Howland.
Victoria raised her head and listened. She could imagine his voice. “We have a lot in common, you know. He’ll be back,” she said with assurance.
“You and your bad boys.” Howland got up from the table. “Let me have your mug. I’ll put it in the sink.”
Victoria followed him to the door. The sun was shining. Daffodils and forsythia were in bright, full bloom. A hundred or more blackbirds caroled from the maple tree. Spring had come to the Island.
Howland and she stood at the top of the stone steps admiring the fresh new world.
“Elections are coming up in a couple of weeks,” said Howland, turning to her with a grin. “We have vacancies for three assessors and a tax collector. How about running for office, Victoria? You’re a shoo-in.”
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