The Body In the Belfry (26 page)

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Authors: Katherine Hall Page

BOOK: The Body In the Belfry
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“You should try the pizza in the Bronx sometime,” he told everyone reminiscently, “Now that's real pizza.”
Faith was happy to sit there safe, warm, and just about fed, but there were too many missing pieces.
“All right. Who goes first? How the hell did Millicent figure out where we were?” She knew she was swearing; she figured she had the right.
Millicent looked over at Detective Dunne. They seemed to have developed their own special brand of communication. Faith wondered what the odds at Vegas might be on Millicent's joining the force. Like some sort of Yankee Miss Marple.
“You start, John. After all, you had figured it out, too, and it was only a question of time before you would have found the closet.”
John, was it!? This was worse than Faith thought.
Dunne gulped the last of his pizza, reached for another beer, and leaned back in his chair.
“I have never felt so helpless about a case before. Suspects seemed to be literally jumping out of the bushes.” He shot a friendly glance at Sam, who had come in shortly after Charley. Sam managed to return a smile still fraught with guilt.
“That damn box was taking us up one blind alley after another,” he continued, “We managed to identify some of the gentlemen, but they weren't leads worth pursuing, although it was probably one of them who broke into the Moore's. Pearson didn't have much of a motive either.
Nothing made sense. And if Svenson had wanted to kill her, why didn't he wait until after they were married and do it in some less obvious way? I figured he would have inherited the money, too. Of course now I know about the will, but even so he would have come away with something. The condo, car, whatever they bought together.
“And there was another thing. Her murder was planned. Dave may have hated her enough to think about murder, but if he had actually done it, I was convinced it would have been on the spur of the moment. One of the times she was goading him. He'd just reach over and choke her to death to shut her up. Plus he didn't have any medical training and the way the knife was angled, just under the fourth rib, whoever did it knew precisely where to stick it. Now Dave is mostly interested in trees or tomatoes or something, I understand. Still, we had to take him in.
“That is until Sam here very conveniently entered the ring, entered, that is, with just about every member of the Massachusetts Bar.” He swung around to look at him. “Say, Sam, is it true that they were starting a defense fund for you at Lock-Ober's?”
“No, it was at the Last Hurrah,” Sam retorted.
Dunne nodded. “Much more appropriate.” Everybody laughed.
“Anyway, Sam had too much to lose. Not that a murderer doesn't, but somehow I didn't see this guy giving up home, job, not to mention the Porsche for the satisfaction of doing away with an adolescent, but pretty professional, blackmailer.”
Sam spoke up, “I had just about decided to tell Pix, then explain as best I could to the kids. Cindy did have me rattled, but I know what happens with blackmail. I've seen enough of it. The ante keeps going up and up. I like to think I would have been able to say no.”
“Of course you would have!” exclaimed Pix. “And if
I hadn't been so dimwitted, I would have figured out that something terrible was bothering you and we would have taken care of her, believe me.”
Sam looked at her gratefully. Faith was glad that neither one of them knew that in fact almost every teenager in town had known of Sam and Cindy's affair. They might never get ice cream at Friendly's again.
Dunne's deep voice resumed, “So that left Robert Moore. He had been in medical school before he went to law school. Bet you didn't know that, Faith. And he didn't have much of an alibi. I began to sniff around for a motive. Everyone has money troubles, so why not him? He wasn't exactly going to starve, but he had put a lot of money in the house in New Hampshire and the boats, plus the kid's college expenses. Things were a bit tight just at a slack time at work.
“I had checked with the lawyers and they said the money went to Patricia, a lot of money. Unfortunately they didn't tell me about this fool thing with the female descendants of the Captain and Persis. I had to read the books to find that out.”
Faith was annoyed. So that was who had taken the books out. She might have guessed. If he had left them where they should have been, she wouldn't have had to go to Eleanor's for them. But then she might have gone anyway to ask her more about the family and how she was related, so it would have ended up the same. Maybe.
“He had the knowledge, opportunity, and it all made a lot of sense, but I didn't have any evidence. So I figured I'd let things ride for a bit and see what he did. Sam and Dave weren't exactly in the clear, but no one was hurting.”
“That's what you say,” Sam said. Dave nodded in vehement agreement.
Faith interrupted, “What made you change your mind?”
“Something completely unscientific. A gut reaction. I just couldn't see this guy killing his wife. And I had the advantage of having Charley here, who practically knows the number of cavities every person in this town has. He told me not to waste time on Dave and Sam, then after Patricia was murdered, to forget Robert.”
Charley looked a bit abashed. “I'd never want Robert to know I suspected him, but of course we had to consider everybody. My God, Faith here even thought it might be you, Millicent.”
“Thanks a lot, Charley,” said Faith.
Millicent just smiled and stored it all away.
Charley spoke sadly, “I knew how Robert felt about Cindy. It had been going on for years. She was almost destroying his home and family. If a man isn't driven to kill for that, I don't know what for.”
“She was about to leave, true,” Dunne picked up the narrative, “but he might have wanted to cast some blame elsewhere—Dave maybe. And besides the wedding was going to set him back a lot. All that made sense. Then came his wife's death. I've seen people grieve, but few like this.”
He paused and they all thought of Patricia.
“Then there was the rose in Faith's mailbox. I still had him pegged at the time, in fact he was under surveillance. But the rose business. It seemed more like something a woman would do. All right, all right,” he said as a sea of accusing fingers was raised, “That's sexist, but I was right, wasn't I? It was Eleanor Whipple.”
“Only partly right, John,” Faith was glad to supply some new information. “It was a female, but it wasn't Eleanor and I think it was told to me in confidence, so I can't tell.”
“Okay, so it wasn't Eleanor.” He grinned. “It's not really hard to guess, Faith. After all, who have you been
with for the last nineteen or twenty hours? Jenny—protecting her old man, right?”
Faith flushed. “You're beginning to talk like cops on TV. I thought you went to Harvard.”
“Better. Columbia.” He reached across the table for her hand, “So don't tell. As long as the three of you are safe, I don't care what girlish secrets you may have shared.”
Faith was touched. Tom had left his post behind her and sat down in the chair by her side. He grabbed her other hand. For a moment she felt like some sort of electrical connection and a pleasant feeling of warmth came over her. Dunne let go. Tom didn't.
“No.” Millicent hadn't heard her own voice for a while and must have been lonely. “Robert loved Patricia very much. I was at their wedding—I was almost a child, of course.”
“Of course,” everyone murmured tactfully, smiling slightly into their sleeves.
“Perhaps you were the flower girl?” queried Faith, not so tactfully.
“Not as young as all that, dear,” Millicent answered tolerantly, “I do remember thinking, however, that if they looked at each other for the rest of their marriage the way they did when they exchanged their vows it would be a very happy marriage indeed. And they always did. Cindy was a terrific burden, but she never caused problems between the two of them.”
She gave a regal little nod to John and he acknowledged it with one in return and continued.
“When two people in the same family are killed, the obvious thing to do is start digging around in the past—their common past. So that's what I did. And I gather,” he looked at Faith quizzically, “the same idea occurred
to you, despite all our warnings and all your assurances?”
Charley looked particularly downcast. “Really, Faith, I thought you had promised. I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you. I mean something much worse. We figured you wouldn't get involved, not after Patricia's murder.”
“But Charley, it was exactly because of what happened to Patricia that I had to—and you felt the same way. Even if it hadn't been your job, you would have tried to find out who killed your friend.”
Faith found she could be comfortably adamant now that she was alive.
“And don't blame Tom. He had no idea what I was doing. And really all I did was ask to borrow a book. You can't imagine how surprised I was when she suddenly turned a gun on me.”
Tom tightened his already bone-crushing grip on her hand.
Pix gasped. “Faith, I'm going to get the brownies I made yesterday morning and that champagne I mentioned. I have to have something to fortify myself and probably you'll say they don't go with champagne, but you'll just have to bite the bullet—whoops, that's not exactly appropriate, I mean you'll just have to grin and bear it this once. Now don't say a word until I get back.”
“Champagne and chocolate are fine, especially your brownies,” Faith reassured her. The idea of one of Pix's dense, dark brownies and a glass of champagne appealed to her, even on top of pizza and beer. She was tired, euphoric, and still hungry.
They all needed a stretch and got rid of the pizza boxes and empty beer bottles. Tom took out some ice cream and by the time Pix returned with her arms full,
they had resumed positions and were ready for the next round.
It was Millicent's turn.
“Of course,” she said daintily, sipping at her champagne as if she never touched the stuff and had not earlier put away an entire bottle of beer, just this once for the shock. “Of course, I had no idea anyone was missing. I didn't see you or Jenny go into Eleanor's house, Faith.”
Faith was astonished. Was Millicent slipping?
“I was having my hair done at the Beauty Shoppe.”
Faith was relieved. There had to have been some logical explanation. Since Millicent's hair was unvarying in both its shade, white as snow, and style, Mamie Eisenhower, the Beauty Shoppe would never have suggested itself.
A thought struck her. How long does it take for a marcel wave or two? “But Millicent, if you knew where we were, why didn't you get us out sooner?” Faith knew there was bound to be some retribution for ringing the belfry bell, yet this was going a little too far, even for Millicent.
“Yes, it was unfortunate,” Millicent managed to make it sound like a nasty cold, “You see, I went straight from the hairdressers to a meeting of the Historical Society in Fitchburg.” She turned and addressed the room at large, so no one would miss the importance of her next remarks, “I was the featured speaker. My talk was ‘The French Connection: Apollos Rivoire and Paul Revere.”' She hastened to add lest anyone think her title frivolous or worse, “I like to have a catchy opening. It gets people's attention. The Reveres originated in France you know.” Everybody nodded solemnly except Scott. Millicent reminded him of his third-grade teacher—as cracked as the Liberty Bell, and was she
strict! He'd spent most of the year in the cloakroom or the corner.
Since no one had offered to book Millicent for the season, even though she had paused meaningfully, she was forced to go on, “I stayed overnight with my cousin and didn't get back home until close to noon. Of course as soon as I heard the news I called the police.
“I had begun to have very strong suspicions about Eleanor and while I was away I thought I would talk them over with someone. It struck me that Detective Dunne here was an intelligent and understanding man.” Millicent managed to suggest that in this he was the only one in the greater Boston area.
Dunne blushed, or maybe it was the champagne.
“So when I called the police department, I asked for him. Unfortunately, he wasn't there, because he was so busy looking for you.” She looked at Faith in mild reproach for all the delay and inconvenience she had caused.
“You see, I knew about the will, but when I first thought of Eleanor, I found it hard to believe. Consider, she is a member of your church and the DAR. Then as I began to think, it seemed she was the only possibility.
“I remember when Eleanor, Rose, and their mother moved to Aleford. They were so proud and you know,” she turned to Tom and Reverend Sibley for support, “pride can be a sin. They were so proud they wouldn't make friends with anyone and they made poor Patricia's mother terribly unhappy. On the one hand they expected her to give them everything, then on the other they wouldn't take it. I knew right away that they were terribly jealous of the Harveys. That was Patricia's maiden name. I think it had all started even before the doctor, Eleanor and Rose's father, died. They were brought up on their mother's stories of life in the Captain's house and when they went to visit, it must have been a great
contrast. Doctor Whipple could never make much of his practice because he was a very lazy man. Just liked to take a bottle and a sandwich and fish in the Concord River. It drove his wife crazy. I think she actually was a bit disturbed anyhow. There always was a slightly hysterical strain in the Cox-Dudley line.” Millicent took a breath and preened on her own impeccable nonpec-cadilloed ancestry for a moment.

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