Tippy Toe Murder (16 page)
“No.” Crowley was a man of few words. There
were beads of sweat on his forehead; he was obviously uncomfortable about being
on TV.
“Are you following any new leads?”
“One or two,” said Crowley, “but it’s too
soon to comment.”
“If one of our viewers recognizes Caroline
Hutton, what should they do?”
“They should call the department, on our
nonemergency business line. That number is 861-1234.”
The number appeared on the screen in white
letters, which remained after Crowley’s image disappeared, replaced by the
photograph of Caro.
“Once again,” came Janet’s voice-over. “If
you have seen this woman, please call 861-1234.”
“Thanks for that report, Janet,” said Jack.
“It’s quite a mystery, isn’t it?”
“It sure is, Jack. And after these words
from our sponsors, our Channel Five weatherman, Ed Santini, will explain
another mystery, tomorrow’s weather.”
After the newscast, Lucy helped Toby look
for the missing book and found it under his bed. She supervised baths for the
girls, read them their favorite Angelina book, and tucked them in bed. Toby was
allowed to stay up an hour later, and when Lucy peeked in on him he was sorting
through his baseball cards.
The house seemed unusually quiet to Lucy,
and she could hear the rain drumming on the roof when she returned to the
family room. It had originally been a sun porch, but Bill had made it into a
year-round room by installing insulation and thermal glass windows. Instead of
turning on the TV, she pulled out the old basket in which she kept family
photographs. She always meant to put the best ones in an album but somehow
never got around to it. She was looking for a particular envelope of photos,
and it wasn’t long before she found it.
She had snapped an entire roll of film one
day last summer when she and Bill took the kids on a picnic. One of Bill’s
customers had told him about a beautiful waterfall hidden deep in the woods.
As she flipped through the photos, Lucy
remembered how Bill had taken a day off between jobs, and she had packed a
lunch of fried chicken, tomato sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, lemonade, and
brownies. It had been a real adventure as they followed the unfamiliar
directions Bill had scribbled down on an envelope. They were explorers in a
fragile craft seeking the eighth wonder of the world. At least, that’s what she
had told the kids as they pressed on, leaves and branches brushing against the
Subaru.
They heard the falls before they saw them,
a torrent of ice- cold water rushing along a downhill streambed littered with
slippery black boulders. It was not one single waterfall but many, and the
rushing water had carved out pools deep enough to swim in. One pool glowed a
beautiful luminous green, catching and concentrating the sunshine in its
depths. They had never seen anything like it.
It had been a special day for the whole
family. Bill and the kids swam, Lucy dangled her feet in the frigid water, and
they made short work of the huge picnic. It was quite late in the afternoon
before they packed up their things; they all hated to leave the magical place.
“What are you doing?” asked Bill when he
found her on the couch. He’d finished an estimate for a possible job and was
looking for company.
“Taking a trip down memory lane,” said
Lucy. “Remember the day we went to the waterfall? What was it called?”
Bill settled beside her, draping an arm
around her shoulders, and took the photo.
“Crystal Falls.”
“Near Bridgton, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a good drive from here.” Bill
took the pictures from her and looked through them. “The kids have grown a lot,
haven’t they?”
“Especially Toby.”
Bill got up and switched on the TV. “The
Sox are supposed to play tonight.”
“They probably got rained out.”
“The game’s in New York. They’ll be back in
Boston tomorrow, and Fred Slack said he’d give me his tickets. I’d love to take
Toby. He’s never been to Fenway Park.”
“Tomorrow? It’s sort of short notice.”
“He has season tickets and he can’t go.
They’re box seats, right behind first base. We could leave in the afternoon,
catch the game, and sleep over at my sister’s house. If we got an early start
in the morning we could even be back before school starts. What do you think?”
“It’s fine with me. I didn’t know you were
such good friends with Fred.” “I didn’t either. I stopped by his office to ask
about the camera.”
“I checked prices. They’re still about a
thousand dollars. We can’t afford one now.”
“Fred says there’s no problem. He said to
go ahead and get one and he’ll push the claim right through.”
“What about the deductible?”
“Unh?”
“We have a five-hundred-dollar deductible
on our policy. It doesn’t pay until we pay the first five hundred.”
“No problem. He said the deductible is
waived. Special circumstances.”
“No way. I never heard of an insurance
company paying a claim without asking a lot of questions.”
“I’m gonna get the camera tomorrow morning,
okay? That way I can tape the game and the rehearsal, too. I’ll use plastic but
Fred said I should have the money real quick.”
“It’s okay with me, but I bet we’ll get
stuck with the bill,” predicted Lucy gloomily.
“Damn.” Bill reached for the remote and
started switching through the channels. “It’s raining in New York. Game’s over.”
“That’s too bad,” said Lucy, laying her head on his shoulder. “What could you
do instead?” She reached up and stroked his beard, gently pulling his face
toward hers. She kissed him lightly on the lips, and was gratified when he
responded with a long, lingering kiss.
“I have a few ideas,” he said, and flicked
off the TV.
Pale pink tights
(no shiny tights).
The thunderstorm had cleared the air, and
Wednesday dawned clear and bright but chilly. Lucy made Toby and Elizabeth wear
their jackets to school, but saw they made a point of taking them off as soon
as they got out of the house. She had better luck with Sara, who was little
enough to enjoy being fussed over as Lucy zipped up her pink windbreaker. Lucy
dropped her off at Kiddie Kollege, and then went straight to the post office.
She wanted to mail a “thinking of you” card to Franny before she went to her appointment
with Doc Ryder.
Even Franny’s grim situation couldn’t
dampen her spirits this morning. Last night she’d been reassured that Bill
still desired her, even after twelve years of marriage and three children, and
in the middle of her current pregnancy. She felt remarkably light on her feet
as she skipped up the post office steps.
“You look mighty cheerful this morning,”
said Barney, greeting her with a big smile.
“I am and I have to admit I feel a little
guilty about it, what with Franny locked up in that awful place. I wish I could
do more than send her a card.”
“I think that’s prob’ly all you can do,
Lucy. Visitors are pretty much limited to relatives and attorneys, and they’re
strictly regulated. I’m sure she appreciates knowing folks are thinking about
her.”
“We can do more than that, Barney. How come
there wasn’t more of an investigation? Why is Horowitz so eager to pin this on
Franny?”
“Lucy, I’ve been through that file myself
about a hundred times. Do you think I want to see her spend the rest of her
life in jail?” Barney took off his police cap, ran his hands through his
salt-and-pepper butch-cut hair, and replaced it. “Trouble is, sometimes cops
are more interested in making the conviction than finding out the truth.”
“What do you mean?”
“Horowitz has got one hell of a case
against Franny. It’s straight out of a criminal-science textbook, complete with
means, motive, and opportunity.” Barney ticked them off. “Means—the video
camera was in her possession and it’s covered with her fingerprints.
Motive—Slack fired her and she wanted to get back at him. A classic case of
revenge. Opportunity—who knew the old guy’s routine better than Franny?”
“What about his wife? Maybe she was sick
and tired of him after fifty years.”
“She was having lunch with Miss Tilley.”
“I wouldn’t put it past Miss Tilley to
stretch the truth for a friend. She had her differences with Slack.”
“Lucy, we’re talking about two elderly
ladies who happen to be very civic-minded,” protested Barney.
“What about Ben? I just have this gut
feeling that he did it. Even good boys can get in trouble,” she said, wishing
too late that she could swallow her words. Barney must be sensitive about Eddie’s
brush with the law.
“Don’t I know it,” agreed Barney ruefully. “I’ve
gone over it and over it. Unless the Gilead police can’t tell time, he was in
their custody from ten o’clock on.”
“Time of death?”
“Between twelve-thirty and two
p.m.”
“Okay, what about Fred? It’s no secret he
didn’t get along with his father.”
“Fred was showing houses to some clients,
and Annemarie had an appointment with her therapist from twelve-thirty to
one-thirty and went straight to a one-thirty meeting of the Junior Women’s
Club. The other members say she arrived a few minutes late.”
“Oh,” said Lucy, momentarily distracted by
the news that Annemarie was in therapy. “What about fingerprints? Did you check
the camera for fingerprints?”
“We did,” said Barney. “And you know what?
Practically everybody in this town left their prints on it at one time or
another. What do you do? Lend it out to anybody who asks?” “Pretty much,”
admitted Lucy.
“Well, like I said, the thing was covered
with prints. But one person’s prints definitely weren’t on it. You know whose?”
“Ben’s.”
“Right.”
“I’m still not convinced.” Lucy had a
sudden inspiration. “What about the tape? The one that was in the camera?” “Gone.”
“Then if you find the tape, you’ll find the
killer. Did Franny have the tape?”
“They didn’t find it when they searched her
house, but she coulda got rid of it.”
“Dam. There must be some way we can prove
Franny’s innocent.”
“I sure as hell don’t know how,” said
Barney, looking extremely glum.
“We’ll think of something,” she said,
hoping she sounded more optimistic than she felt. “Hey, what’s this I hear
about Caro turning up in Graceland?”
“We’ve been getting reports from all over.
You wouldn’t believe the crazies that call when a story makes the TV news. And
you know what? I think she really was spotted in North Conway.”
“North Conway?”
“Yeah. A New Hampshire state trooper says
he’s pretty sure he talked to her at an ice cream stand. Passed the time of day
with this nice old woman and didn’t think anything of it till he got back to
the barracks and saw her photo on a bulletin board. Doesn’t even remember what
kind of car she was driving. He did say she had a little girl with her. She
claimed it was her grandchild.”
“Caro isn’t a grandmother,” said Lucy.
“Not that we know of. Well, I better get
back to work before the chief misses me.”
Lucy got in line at the stamp window. There
were several people ahead of her, but she didn’t mind. There was no sense in
hurrying to her appointment just to sit in the doctor’s waiting room. Besides,
she couldn’t help overhearing the conversation selectman Hancock Smith was
having with Winchester College president Gerald Asquith. The two men had met in
front of the numbered boxes.
“Can hardly believe it myself,” she heard
Smith proclaim. “He left his entire fortune to the historical society, house
included. All told, it could come to nearly a million dollars,” he told
Asquith, who looked slightly sick at the thought. It was no secret that the
college had been flirting with financial disaster for some time.
“The house is a gem,” continued Smith. “Virtually
untouched. A fine example of Victorian architecture, with the original
furniture. What a treasure!
“Of course,” he said, thoughtfully
scratching his chin, “Mrs. Slack has a life tenancy, but she’s pretty old. I
don’t imagine it will be too long before the society takes possession.” Smith
paused; a rather unpleasant thought had obviously occurred to him. He lowered
his voice. “I just hope she doesn’t take it into her head to modernize the
place or something. You can never tell with these old ladies.”
“That’s for sure,” agreed Asquith, visibly
brightening. “Take my aunt, for instance. Her husband died confident that he’d
left his considerable fortune to the National Rifle Association. Somehow she
undid the will and the money went to the Ethical Culture Society instead.”
“Really?” Smith was clearly unsettled. “How
could that be legal?”
“I don’t know.” Asquith shrugged, but
something in his tone told Lucy that he was planning on finding out.
