Trouble at High Tide (27 page)

“As long as you’ve got the flames up, we should throw another log on there,” Stephen said, pulling a piece of wood from a basket next to the hearth.

“Put it in,” Tom directed. “I want to burn the rest of these.”

George found my hand on the sofa and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry you feel it necessary to burn those papers,” I said to Tom, “considering that Alicia was killed because of them.”

“What are you talking about?” he said. “She was killed by
the Jack the Ripper killer. Everyone knows that,” he said, looking around the room, which had gotten very quiet. “Isn’t that right?”

“No, that isn’t right,” I said.

“Are you accusing me, Jessica?” Tom roared. “How dare you? To even think that I would be capable of brutally murdering a beloved member of my family is—it’s—it’s outrageous. That poor innocent girl was slashed to death by a madman with a knife. I don’t own any knives, and if I did, I wouldn’t even know how to use one.”

“I find that difficult to believe,” I said. “I’ve heard you say that you’re an admirer of Teddy Roosevelt, and Madeline has said that your New Jersey home is filled with hunting trophies. It’s a rare hunter who doesn’t know how to use a knife.”

“Claudia was the one who walked out of here with knives that night,” Stephen said, pointing at his former stepmother. “And you hated Alicia. You always hated her,” he said coldly.

“She was not the most lovable child,” Claudia replied calmly. “But I didn’t kill her. I wouldn’t waste my time.”

“Don’t talk about Alicia that way,” Tom yelled.

“That’s right. Defend her again,” Claudia snapped. “She was the one who broke our marriage apart. You know that, don’t you?”

“No, you did when you sent her away,” Madeline cried out. “You convinced Tom to send her to that terrible school. It broke her spirit. She was miserable there.”

“She would have been miserable anywhere,” Claudia bit back. “She had to have her way all the time, and all of you kowtowed to her like she was Queen of the May. Well, she
wasn’t my queen and I wasn’t about to let her rule the roost. I got rid of her and all of you loved it. Admit it. It was so quiet without her, so peaceful, no fights, no screaming.”

“You drove her insane by sending her to that school,” Stephen said. “She said it was like being in prison. She showed me the bruises.”

“She just tried her bullying tactics on someone who wasn’t about to cave in,” Claudia said. “If she’d given it half a chance, she could have done well there. But no, not Queen Alicia. She needed her freedom, freedom to drive everyone else crazy.”

“She tried to kill herself,” Madeline shouted. “That’s how much she hated it. And it was your fault.”

“It was not my fault. It was hers,” Claudia replied. “She was manipulating you and you were all taken in by her theatrics.”

“She spent two years in a hospital,” Tom said, “treatment that I paid for. I’d hardly call that caving.”

“Clearly it wasn’t enough.”

“What did Alicia say to you on the night she was killed, Tom?” I asked, hoping to focus the discussion on her death, not on her life.

“What do you mean? I didn’t talk to her that night.”

“You just told me in the library that she’d said she had a surprise for you. Did she tease you about it? Did she hint at what it was, threaten you?”

“She did that to all of us,” Madeline said. “She said that she was going to get us in trouble; we’d be living on skid row, begging her for mercy. She said she had proof that was going to blow us all out of the water. Yes, that’s the way she put it.
I was so mad that I told her if she tried it, I would kill her.” Madeline looked at Tom. “I did. I said that. But I didn’t. I didn’t kill her.” She started to cry. “She just made me so mad.”

“We know you didn’t kill her,” Stephen put in. “I told her to shut up, too. I told her any pain she inflicted on us was going to come back to bite her. She said she didn’t care. She was just ranting.” He shook his head. “I don’t think the hospital helped. If anything, it made her worse. Or maybe we weren’t used to it anymore. It was probably typical Alicia. She always had some grandiose plan.”

“But, Tom, you knew it was different this time, didn’t you?” I said. “You knew what she was talking about and that it wasn’t an idle threat. The papers you just burned would have burned
you
if they’d been seen by the wrong people. Isn’t that so? Alicia was trying to blackmail you.”

“And just why would she do that, Miss Mystery Writer?” Tom said with a curl of his lip.

“You would know better than I, but revenge sounds like a good motive,” I said. “She was angry at you for letting Claudia send her away, for putting her in a strict, regimented school, an unyielding, unsympathetic environment where she wasn’t free to do as she pleased. And when she fought back in every way she knew how, even to the point of attempting suicide, she succeeded in breaking up the marriage, didn’t she?”

“She certainly did,” Claudia put in. “I always thought it was a sham, that pretend suicide attempt.”

“The doctors at the mental hospital thought it was real enough,” Madeline said.

“She should have gotten an Academy Award for that performance,” Claudia replied.

“You never loved her,” Tom said to Claudia.

“She never even liked her,” Stephen added.

Claudia sighed, but didn’t respond.

“At least she got you out of her life,” Madeline said.

“Not quite,” I said, drawing their attention again. “Even when Claudia was no longer Alicia’s stepmother, she still was able to thwart Alicia’s plans, convincing you, Tom, to renege on your promise of an apartment in New York. She was still after that apartment, wasn’t she? And she knew what she needed to get it from you.”

“Her throat was slashed,” Tom ground out. “Good God, does anybody here think I’d be capable of slashing anyone’s throat, especially my own flesh and blood? It’s barbaric.”

“I didn’t say you slashed Alicia’s throat, Tom.”

There was an especially violent crack of thunder that punctuated my last statement. It was as if the weather was providing commentary on this sad family scene, reminding them of the price an arrogant young woman had paid for her obstinacy and selfishness. A brilliant, jagged flash of lightning illuminated the room like a giant strobe.

Then everything went black.

M
argo screamed.

“Get a flashlight,” someone yelled.

The only light in the room came from the flickering flame in the fireplace.

I took out a small flashlight the size of a pen, which I always carry, and turned it on.

“Call the power company,” Claudia said.

And then, as abruptly as the lights had gone out, they came to life again.

Stephen laughed nervously. “That didn’t last long,” he said.

Norlene came from the kitchen carrying a large flashlight. “I thought you might need this. But thank goodness, the lights are back on,” she said.

I looked around the room. “Where’s Adam?” I asked.

“He just left,” Norlene said.

“Did you see where he went?” I asked.

“He ran into the kitchen and grabbed the keys to the boat,” the cook replied.

“He has to be stopped,” I said to George.

“He can’t take the boat out in this weather,” Stephen said.

George pulled out his cell phone and went to a corner of the room to place a call. I heard him say, “His name is Adam Wyse. He works for Judge Thomas Betterton here in Tucker’s Town. Notify the Marine Unit. Try the dock area here. He might be attempting to leave using a boat that belongs to the judge.”

I gazed around at those gathered by the fireplace, their faces somber. The dinner party had turned out not to be a festive occasion after all. I counted heads. Someone else was missing.

“Where’s Tom?” I asked.

There were shrugs all around.

A flurry of conversation ensued.

“He said he didn’t feel well,” Madeline said.

“I think he went upstairs. I’ll go find him,” Stephen said and left the room.

“I hope Tom’s all right,” Margo said, a worried expression on her face.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, dear,” Daisy said and patted Margo’s hand.

“Adam’s a fool if he thinks he can take a boat out on a night like this,” Claudia commented. “And just where does he think he can go?”

“Hope this bloody storm doesn’t knock out the lights again,” Godfrey said as he poured himself a cordial from the tray. “Anyone else?” he asked.

Stephen returned a few minutes later. “Tom said he’s feeling a little queasy,” he said. “He’s lying down. He told me to tell everyone to continue enjoying themselves.”

“Not that we were exactly enjoying ourselves,” Claudia said.

“This has been such a strain on him,” Margo said. “Maybe I should go see how he is.”

“Leave him alone, Margo,” Stephen said.

“I’ll have a cordial, Godfrey,” Daisy said, “and pour one for Margo, too.”

“Coming right up.”

George’s cell phone sounded. I followed him to the corner where he took the call. “Yes, that’s good news, good news indeed. Fast work. Well done. What? Yes, hold until I arrive. Many thanks.”

“They found Adam?” I said.

“Yes. He was at the dock trying to start the boat. Good thing it wouldn’t kick over. They’re bringing him to police headquarters in Hamilton.” He lowered his voice and asked, “Why is it important that he be retained, Jessica?”

“I’ll fill you in on the way. You have your car outside?”

“Yes, I do.” I turned to the others and said, “The inspector and I are leaving.”

“I would suggest that you all remain here on the property for the interim,” George said.

“Why?” Daisy asked. “Tom said that we were all free to go.”

“And I say that everyone must remain here,” George said, his voice steely.

“But—”

“Calm down, Daisy,” Godfrey said to her. “We’re not going anywhere in this storm anyway.”

“Kindly inform the judge of my order when he awakens,” George said, “and thank him for dinner.”

The drive to Hamilton was treacherous, and there were times when I thought we might skid off the road into a ditch. Rain pelted the windshield, lowering visibility to almost zero, and the gale-force wind kept threatening to blow us off the pavement, but George skillfully handled the vehicle and we eventually arrived safely at headquarters.

“Where is he?” George asked the desk officer the moment we were inside and he’d shown his credentials.

“We’ve brought in more than one fellow tonight, Chief Inspector. Who are you looking for?”

“His name is Adam Wyse,” I said.

“That fellow the Marine Unit brought in? He’s in a holding cell in the back. What’s he done?”

George looked at me. I’d told him during the drive of the conclusion I’d come to, and my reasons for having reached it.

“We’ll know more after we question him,” George told the desk sergeant. “Lead the way.”

Adam was huddled on a bench in a corner of the cell, his soaking wet clothing leaving puddles on the metal seat. He sat up upon seeing us and came to the bars. “Am I glad to see you,” he said to me.

“I can’t imagine why,” I said.

The officer opened the cell door and we joined Adam inside. The door had no sooner closed behind us when Adam said, “I didn’t kill her. I swear it.”

“Then why did you run?” George asked.

“Because I knew I’d be accused.”

“You would be?” George said. “By whom?”

“The judge.”

“Why would Judge Betterton accuse you of killing his niece?” George asked.

Adam fell silent, so I answered for him. “Tom Betterton would accuse Adam of the murder because he’s the one who killed her.”

Adam brightened. “Not me. Not me,” he said. “It was the judge who slit her throat.”

“That’s not true,” I said, “but Tom did commit the murder. He strangled her.”

“Please remind me how you know this,” George said to me.

“When I spoke with Margo this afternoon, she told me how Tom cried in her arms, moaning about Alicia’s death, saying, ‘How could she do this to me?’ Margo didn’t remember if the police were already there when Tom woke her. But the police questioned each of the family members separately before letting them come together in the library. They wouldn’t have informed Tom of Alicia’s death and then allowed him to wake Margo. They kept everyone apart until after the initial interviews.”

“So Tom knew Alicia was dead before the police came,” George said.

“Yes. And tonight Tom kept denying that he slashed her throat. And he didn’t. Alicia was strangled to death. However, that piece of information was never released.” I turned my gaze to Adam.

“I had nothing to do with Alicia’s murder,” he said.

“That isn’t true either, Adam,” I said. “Oh, I’m not suggesting that you killed her. Tom is responsible for having taken her life. Her throat was slit
after
she’d died to make it appear that she was the victim of the Jack the Ripper killer. Her throat was slit to shift suspicion away from Judge Betterton. And that’s where you come in, Adam. Was it your suggestion?”

He sat on the cot and hung his head.

“You’re handy with a knife. Everyone knows that,” I said. “You recently bought a new knife at the marine store in town. Was it to replace the one you used on Alicia? Did you throw the old one in the ocean to get rid of the evidence?”

He didn’t answer.

I continued. “Ever since Alicia was killed, you’ve been repeating that she was a victim of Jack the Ripper. You’ve said it over and over, which caused me to wonder why you were so certain—unless it was because you wanted to reinforce the lie in order to protect your boss.”

“Is Mrs. Fletcher correct?” George asked.

Adam nodded.

“She was about to blackmail him, wasn’t she?”

Adam shrugged. “I guess. I overheard her calling that Barry Lovick guy, the one the judge fired. I figured they had a thing going, but maybe I’m wrong. She would hang up every time she thought I was listening.”

“Did you actually see the judge kill her?” George asked. “Or did he tell you what had happened?”

I answered for Adam. “He saw it happen.” I looked at George. “Remember when you told me the telescope was locked? It was focused on the scene of the crime because Adam had been watching when Tom killed her.”