This Old Murder (21 page)

THIRTY

JOSIE AND SAM waited patiently for Bobby Valentine to recover his composure. Then . . .

“Why did you call me?” Josie asked.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Bobby Valentine glanced over at Sam. “Did you hear about what Courtney said about Josie?”

“That if something happened to her, I would know about it—or something like that,” Josie explained.

“Yes. Yes, exactly. Do you know what she meant by that?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Are you under the impression that she meant something sinister?” Sam asked.

“What do
you
mean?” Josie asked him.

“I’m asking if it was a ‘If I’m found dead, Josie Pigeon is the person who killed me’ type of comment,” Sam explained.

“Yes, it was,” Bobby Valentine answered.

“Wait a minute! How did that subject come up? Do you chat about murder during casual conversation? Or was Courtney obsessed with her own death?”

“It was weird,” Bobby Valentine admitted, walking over to the wig and looking at it carefully. “I mean, you’re right, Courtney was not the type of person to contemplate her mortality. It was the first day we were here on the island. She was slightly hyper—”

“What sort of hyper?” Sam interrupted to ask.

“You know, excited. Frankly, I thought it was this place.”

“The trailer?”

“Yeah, she’d been wanting a customized trailer for years and years. She’d planned it and talked about it. Everyone who knew her had heard about how much she wanted something like this. And then it was finally hers.”

“It meant that much to her?” Josie asked.

“Yes. This type of stuff meant the world to Courtney.”

“So you were talking about the job or whatever,” Sam prompted again.

“Yes, and somehow the conversation turned to people dying.”

“Like accidents on the job?”

“No. Maybe. I really don’t remember. I was surprised.”

“I should hope so. After all, Courtney was accusing Josie of a future murder, after all,” Sam said.

“Well, that’s true, of course. But I was surprised that she knew Josie Pigeon. It was the first I’d heard of a connection between the two of them.”

“Really? She didn’t mention knowing Josie when this whole thing began?”

“No way.”

“Do you happen to remember when you first heard about Island Contracting?”

“A few months ago.”

“From whom?”

“Courtney, I think.”

“Do you think she could have known about Josie for a while without mentioning her?”

“Definitely. Courtney only told me what she wanted to tell me.”

“And who did Courtney hear about Josie from?”

“No one seems to know the answer to that one.” Josie answered Sam’s question.

“Maybe we could go through her papers and find out?” Sam suggested.

“Ha. You didn’t know Courtney. She was a disaster when it came to keeping records. Drove me nuts,” Bobby Valentine said.

“Josie has the same problem. Must have been something in the water when they were growing up,” Sam said with a smile.

Bobby Valentine looked as though he didn’t believe it. “You two don’t seem to have all that much in common. That librarian lady said you’ve always been different.”

Josie frowned. She had just had a thought that seemed significant. But the idea of Naomi Van Ripper talking about her like that had driven it right out of her mind.

Everyone stood around without saying anything for a few minutes. Then Sam asked another question.

“Do people ever pay or give things to get on the show?”

“No way. We’re not a sleazy operation. If that has happened, I can promise you that I knew nothing about it.” He looked over at Josie. “You didn’t offer anyone anything to be on the air, did you?”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t do that even if I could afford to, which I can’t.” She yawned. The adrenaline was subsiding and she was beginning to realize just how exhausted she was. “I’ve got to get up early tomorrow. And I’m only going to get . . .” She glanced at her watch and gasped. “Four hours of sleep if I leave right now. Which is what I’m going to do!”

“God, I had no idea it was so late,” Bobby Valentine said, looking down at his Swiss watch.

“I gather that wig is significant,” Sam said.

“Courtney never appeared without one of them on.”

“If no one objects, I’ll just take it home with me,” Sam said, using one finger to pick up the wig.

“Fine with me—” Josie’s comment was interrupted by a yawn. “Sorry.”

“Are you awake enough to drive home?”

“I’ll be fine. And I’ll be home in less than ten minutes.”

In fact, with a little late-night speeding, ten minutes later she was in bed. She fell asleep wondering what had been said tonight that had seemed fleetingly significant.

She woke up with a horrible ringing in her ears. She really had to find the time to replace the doorbell. By the time her feet hit the floor, Tyler was doing his bit to increase the noise level.

“Ma! You’ve got company.”

Josie grabbed a robe and pulled it over the T-shirt she slept in. She ran her hands through her hair to smooth it down, vaguely expecting Sam. But Annette and Chad stood in her living room, holding hands, nervous expressions on their faces.

“Hi.”

“We’re here too early,” Annette said.

“We wanted to talk to you before work started,” Chad explained.

“It’s important,” Annette added.

“Let me get dressed,” Josie said, and hurried back to her bedroom.

When she returned to her guests a few minutes later, the room smelled deliciously of coffee. “Who . . . ?” She spied her son near the coffeemaker watching the fresh brew drip into the pot. “Oh, Tyler, thank you so much. That’s just what I need.” She reached for a mug and then remembered her manners. “Can I get you both some?”

“Tyler already offered us some, thanks,” Chad answered. He and Annette were still standing by the door.

“Come in and sit down,” Josie suggested. “I know Tyler is going to leave in just a few minutes. He . . . runs a couple of miles every morning,” she lied, inspired. “Thanks for making the coffee, but we don’t want to keep you, sweetie.”

“Sweetie’s just leaving. Nice meeting you two,” he said to Chad and Annette. “Bye.” With a wide grin on his face, Tyler left the apartment.

“Does he run in plastic flipflops?” Chad asked.

“His running shoes are downstairs,” Josie explained, ignoring the fact that a pair of size-ten Nikes lay in the middle of the living room floor.

“We need to talk to you,” Chad explained again.

“We’re here to tell you the truth,” Annette added.

Josie sipped her coffee. “About what?”

“We ...” Annette looked at Chad and didn’t continue.

“We were together on the property next to the house you’re remodeling.” The young man spoke up.

“Together? You mean you were . . . making love? Outside? On the ground? In the middle of the day?”

“No, of course not. We had only known each other then for a day or two,” Chad explained.

“And we wouldn’t do something like that outside . . . in the middle of the day . . .” Annette was becoming flustered. “Would we?” She looked at Chad for confirmation.

“No.” He took her hand again.

Josie thought they were charming, but it was taking quite a bit of time to tell their story. “So what were you doing? What did Cheryl and Howard have to complain about?”

“It wasn’t what we were doing, Ms. Pigeon. We were just kissing. Really. It was perfectly innocent. But we talked about it and, well, we were afraid that we might have been on the next-door neighbor’s property.”

“And yesterday we checked, and . . . we were. Josie, we’re really sorry. When we told you we hadn’t been there, we really didn’t think we were lying!”

“I believe you.” Josie took another sip of coffee. “I hope Cheryl and Howard didn’t see you on their property again.”

“We were very careful,” Annette said.

“Well, actually they may have seen me the day before yesterday,” Chad admitted. “Remember I told you I was going to check it out?” He looked at Annette, who nodded lovingly. “Well, I did. I went over to where you and I had been sitting and realized that, in fact, we were probably off the work site.”

“When did you go?” Annette asked.

Josie seemed a bit preoccupied.

“In the afternoon sometime. I wanted to check it out before we went to dinner.”

“And that’s why you told me we should look at it yesterday morning!” Annette beamed, apparently proud of Chad’s forward thinking.

“Exactly.”

Josie realized they were expecting a comment from her. “So you went back together yesterday morning.” She suspected that Howard and Cheryl had been given a perfectly adequate excuse to complain about all this trekking back and forth across their property line, but she appreciated that Chad and Annette were trying to help and so didn’t mention it.

“Yes. And Chad was right. Where we were sitting was right over the property line! Josie, do you think we should go over and apologize to them?”

“For what?”

“Trespassing!”

“I wouldn’t bother. Every time we see or speak to them, they just find something else to complain about,” Josie said.

“But we’re really here to apologize to you. For putting you in such an uncomfortable position,” Chad asserted.

“Yes.” Annette nodded vigorously. “We’re sorry. We really are.”

“It’s okay.” Josie put down her mug, thinking it was time for them to leave. But they didn’t seem to agree.

“We’re really sorry,” Annette repeated.

But Chad had other things on his mind. “Ah, Ms. Pigeon . . .” He stopped and looked over at Annette. “I’m going to tell her,” he said.

Annette sighed. “I will. I did it.”

“Did what?” Josie asked, hoping they would get to the facts as soon as possible.

“I told Chad about Courtney.”

“What about Courtney?” Josie asked, suspecting that she knew the answer.

“That she’s dead. And gone. I mean, that her body is gone.”

Josie sighed. She should have known this was a secret that wasn’t going to be kept. “So?”

“I’m so sorry—”

Annette was going to begin another round of apologies when Chad interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about all this quite a bit,” he began.

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t know if Annette told you, but my mother has investigated many murders. And actually solved them.” Josie thought he sounded a bit amazed by this fact. “So I’ve had some experience with this sort of thing. And I’ve taken both Introduction to Psychology and Sociology 101 at Cornell and have some limited knowledge of human behavior.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And I have some thoughts.” Chad plunked himself down on the couch, rested his elbows on his knees, and rested his chin on his knuckles.

“Really?”

“Yes. You know, I think murder is usually committed for one of two reasons. Either personal gain or revenge.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Chad’s been explaining it all to me,” Annette jumped in enthusiastically. “You see, the person who killed Courtney either benefited from her death or hated her so much that he or she could not bear to live in a world where she lived, too. So . . .”

“So we need to look at the people Courtney knew. Someone either had something to gain from her death or else hated her. Gain or hate,” Chad said. “Gain or hate. That’s what I think causes most murders.”

Josie looked at the earnest young man and nodded slowly. “You may have a point there. But it might have been the result of a combination of those things. Not gain or hate, but gain
and
hate. And you know what? I think those two things got Courtney killed. And I think I know who killed her.”

THIRTY-ONE

JOSIE WENT STRAIGHT to Sam’s store. As she turned the corner, she spied his little MGB parked on the street and sighed with relief. She knew who had killed Courtney. But she didn’t know what to do now. She sure hoped Sam would.

Sam was in the store, but it wasn’t open for customers until nine-thirty. Josie had to hammer on the door to get his attention.

“Josie, I didn’t hear you. I was back in my office.” Sam looked at her face as he unlocked the door and let her in. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Sam, I’m so glad to see you! I know who did it! I know who killed Courtney! I—”

“Josie, maybe you don’t want to—”

“Sam, didn’t you hear what I said? I know who killed Court . . . Oh, damn. What is he doing here?”

“I tried to tell you,” Sam said as Chief Rodney walked down the aisle between cases of expensive wine and English gin. He was grinning.

“Miss Pigeon. You were saying something I would be interested in hearing, I believe.”

Josie looked at Sam. “What is he doing here?” she asked again.

“Your boyfriend and I have been making plans for the Island Police Association Benefit. Now what’s all this about our emcee?”

“You mean Courtney?”

“Yes.”

Josie was silent for a few minutes. “She’s dead.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw her dead. I mean, I saw her when she was dead. Her body.”

“You saw a dead body and you didn’t bother to call the police, Miss Pigeon?”

“I . . . It . . . I mean, she disappeared before I could do that.”

“You didn’t think you should come down to the police station and tell me that you saw a dead body that somehow slipped away while you weren’t looking? You didn’t think I would understand?”

“Would you have?”

“No way, José. And no way to you, Josie!”

“You know, if Josie doesn’t cooperate with you, you have nothing except a missing television personality,” Sam said flatly.

“I—” Josie started.

“And she’s not going to say anything at all until you agree to listen to every word she says and do whatever she thinks you should,” he continued, refusing to allow Josie to finish her sentence.

“I think . . .”

“Well, do you agree to that?” Sam asked.

Josie looked up at Chief Rodney. From the expression on his face, she decided it would be stupid to drive even one mile over the speed limit for the rest of the summer.

“Do you agree?” Sam repeated.

“Fine. Fine. But you better have a body or some rock-hard evidence, Miss Pigeon. You better have enough for me to make an arrest and get a conviction.”

Josie grimaced. “Well, I can’t promise anything—”

“Just tell us what you know,” Sam said.

“Not much,” Josie began. “But if you think logically about what I’m saying, I think you’ll realize that I’m right and . . . that I’m right.”

Chief Rodney sighed long and loud. “I suppose,” he said, saying the words slowly and looking at Sam, “it’s a bit early in the day for a drink.”

“I could get you a cup of coffee and put a dollop of brandy in it,” Sam offered.

“Make it a double dollop and I won’t drag your girlfriend off to jail without hearing the entire story.”

Josie scowled and tried to figure out exactly where to begin.

“Maybe you should start with finding the body,” Sam suggested, heading for the area where liquors were displayed.

“Yes. When did you find the body?”

“It was a few days ago. But I didn’t find it.”

“Just who did find it?”

“My crew. Someone on my crew,” Josie replied.

“You telling me there’s a conspiracy of silence here?” Chief Rodney growled.

“There’s no conspiracy,” Josie answered before realizing that almost half a dozen people keeping the knowledge of a crime from the police was, most likely, exactly that.

Sam seemed to be thinking the same thing as he rushed over with a steaming and alcoholic drink in his hand.

“Start when the body was discovered,” he prompted. “I’m sure the chief will let you tell the story in your own way.”

Apparently the chief would let her do what she pleased as long as Sam kept a steady stream of alcohol and coffee coming his way. So Josie got on with it.

“I didn’t find Courtney. My crew did. She was hidden in the canoe that was hanging from the ceiling in the living room of the house we’re remodeling.”

“When?”

“A few days ago. But the body disappeared that day, too.”

“Let’s start at the beginning again. You—or someone on your crew—discovered Courtney in the canoe hanging from the ceiling. Am I correct in assuming that she was dead?”

“Yes. Of course, yes.” Josie described how Courtney had looked, being sure to mention how her hair had covered part of her forehead—which she now knew to be significant—and went on to explain her interview up near the rafters, how the women had continued to work that afternoon, all acutely aware of the body on high, and how they had decided to meet at Island Contracting’s office for dinner to make a decision about what to do.

“Who suggested leaving the body where it was and heading down to your office?” Chief Rodney asked.

“I think I probably did, but that doesn’t matter,” Josie told him. “Just listen to what I’m going to tell you and you’ll understand.”

“You damn well better be right, Mizz Pigeon.” He sprayed his sarcasm.

Josie continued her story as he wiped his spit off his shirt. “So we went to the office and tried to figure out what to do about Courtney’s body. We did think of calling the police, among other things.” She was fairly sure no one in the store would think much of their decision to freeze Courtney along with most of the island’s bait supply. “But when we returned to the house, the body was gone.”

Chief Rodney grunted, and from the expression on his face, Josie got the impression that keeping his promise not to interrupt was causing him some pain. She continued the tale.

“We knew the body was gone right away. The canoe was on the floor, but the blanket that had been covering her was still there. We . . . um . . . we didn’t know what to do.”

Chief Rodney made a sound that could have been a gulp or an expletive.

“So we didn’t do anything. And Bobby Valentine said that Courtney was always going off and doing things and suddenly no one seemed to care that she wasn’t around. So . . . well . . . Look, the truth is that I knew you would suspect my crew members if you knew Courtney had been murdered. None of them had any reason to kill her, but some of them are especially vulnerable, so I thought if I figured out who killed her myself, I would tell you about it and . . . and that would be that.” She glanced at Sam, who was staring intently at the police chief.

“You thought I would arrest Dorothy Evans,” Chief Rodney said flatly.

“I thought it was a good possibility. And so did she. You see, Dottie—”

“Josie, he knows about Dottie’s record,” Sam said. “It’s one of the terms of her release and her parole.”

“Oh. Dottie’s a wonderful person,” Josie assured him.

“I realize that, Miss Pigeon. I realize that.”

“The chief was telling me earlier that he introduced Dottie to one of his officers, a relative, and he asked her out on a date,” Sam explained.

Josie was momentarily diverted. “And she refused, right?”

“Yes. But the Rodney men do not take no for an answer. At least not until it’s been said at least a half-dozen times,” Chief Rodney added with a surprising amount of self-deprecating humor.

“Go on with your story, Josie,” Sam prompted. “What happened next?”

“I guess the next thing that actually happened was that I got a call from Bobby Valentine. But that’s not . . . I’m leaving out things.”

“Well, we sure don’t want you to do that,” Chief Rodney said as the beeper on his belt began to squawk. “Goddamn. Someone better have a real good reason for bothering me now.” He read the message. “Mind if I use your phone, Sam?”

“Feel free.”

Josie moved over to Sam as the police chief headed to the phone on the checkout counter. “How am I doing?” she asked.

“Frankly, not well. I know more of the whole story than the chief and I have no idea what the hell you’re getting at—or who you think killed Courtney.”

“Sam, I thought you’d figured it out. Howard and Cheryl— well, I suppose only one of them actually killed her, but certainly they were both involved in the coverup and in moving her from place to place. . . . Where’s he going?” she added as the police officer bounded for the front door.

“Got to go. That call was from one of your workers, Miss Pigeon. Seems Bobby Valentine and some man from the neighborhood are trying to kill each other on the lawn in front of the house you’re working on.”

“I still don’t get it,” Sam said, getting into the driver’s seat of his car while Josie plunked herself into the passenger seat.

“What don’t you get?”

“Why Howard and Cheryl? And, more important, how did you figure it out?”

“Think, Sam, from the very beginning of this project, some unknown neighbor was involved. It was someone from the island, a neighbor, who told Courtney about the house—and about Island Contracting.”

“And Howard and Cheryl are those neighbors?”

“Yup, and I’ll bet if we look into it, we’ll find that Howard and Cheryl are the owners of that damn house. I was stupid. I should have insisted on speaking with the owners. I guess the job just fell into our laps and I was so thrilled to be asked to be on television . . . Funny, I thought I was immune to that sort of thing,” she mused, interrupting herself.

“What sort of thing?”

“Oh, believing that being a celebrity—even if only for a day—was important. You know, believing that the parents at Tyler’s school would think more of me if I’d been on television.”

“Well, as long as the show you’re on isn’t
America’s Most
Wanted
or
Cops
, you were probably right. We are living in a culture that values celebrity.”

“I know. That’s probably what motivated poor Howard and Cheryl—that, and greed, of course.”

Sam yanked on the steering wheel and directed the car into a space at the curb. “Why don’t you tell me about this before we get to the house?” he suggested.

“Sure. It won’t take very long. You see, Cheryl and Howard wanted to be famous. So they got in touch with Courtney Castle and told her about the house they owned on the island. They were smart enough to realize that they needed to provide an added inducement for Courtney to choose their project. This isn’t the Bahamas; there’s no reason to come here to do a show because of the weather. So they hired Island Contracting. We’re unique enough to interest viewers.”

“Good point.” Sam nodded.

But Josie was still putting together the pieces. “Come to think of it, I’ll bet anything that, once we look into it, we’ll find out that the convenient schedule change of our other early-summer job had something to do with Cheryl and Howard.”

“Sounds likely.”

“Okay, so as I was saying, Cheryl and Howard told Courtney about this interesting house and the company that was going to remodel it. And then to clinch the deal they offered Courtney a customized trailer—the trailer of her dreams—if she would use their project for her television series.”

“So the trailer was a bribe.”

“Yes. And since they had bought the house under a corporate name rather than their own, Public Broadcasting wouldn’t make the connection. Because it must have been unethical for them to give her the trailer in exchange for getting their house on the air.”

“Definitely. And it must have cost them a fortune,” Sam said, thinking of the laws that governed the giving of gifts.

“They were going to sell their house for an inflated price and be on television as well. I guess it was really important to them.”

“Being on television?”

“Yes, the first time I met them, Howard talked about Cheryl getting ready for her television appearance—picking out the right clothes and everything. I didn’t think it was significant at the time. I figured she would just wander over and expect to be on television. And I didn’t think that would happen.” She grimaced. “The truth is that I was busy worrying about what I was going to look like on television and not thinking much about anyone else.”

“So what went wrong?”

“I suspect Courtney had never seen them before. Cheryl and Howard are one of the tackiest couples you would ever want to meet. I’ll never forget the shocked expression on Courtney’s face when she met them for the first time. I think Courtney either refused to give them airtime or else suggested they change their style. It all fits together, Sam. Cheryl and Howard were going to be segment three of the show, the segment about the neighborhood. But Courtney met them and decided no way.”

“And wrote the note that said ‘Kill
Courtney Castle’s Castles
segment three,’ ” he added.

“Exactly. The murder must have happened when she told them she was canceling their appearance. They were furious.”

“Of course.”

“And one of them picked up something heavy, slugged her with it, and killed her. Probably a piece of that damn sculpture.” She pulled on a lock of unruly hair. “I doubt if they actually meant to kill her.”

“And then they hid the body in the canoe?”

“Yes. Probably hoping we would find her and get blamed. They had already bragged to me about their connections on the island. If they know the island, they know the Rodneys aren’t awfully likely to arrest the correct person for any crime other than speeding.”

“But why did they move the body from the canoe? They were the ones who moved it, am I right?”

“Yes, their plan wasn’t working out. They left the note in the trailer, and when Bobby Valentine called the police—as I’m sure they thought he would—no one was arrested. They probably realized they had a problem when that happened. We knew the body was there. But we weren’t talking. I guess that spooked them and they waited until the house was deserted in the evening, took down the canoe, and removed Courtney. I imagine they would have dumped her in the bay, but that wasn’t a safe option once the island started buzzing with talk of a possible dredging.”