Michael raised his hand, waved it like a schoolboy. ‘It may have been me. We bought a couple of beers at McGarvey’s during the Peggy Stewart celebrations. Alex was supposed to be bringing Amy a Sprite, but he got involved in a conversation with some reporter, so I said I’d take the soda to Amy. And I did.’
‘Can you describe this reporter you saw talking to Mr Mueller?’
Michael shrugged. ‘Black frock coat, three-cornered hat, powdered wig. Impressed me that he was kinda getting into the story, you know? Wait a minute, his ponytail had a little black bag tied to the end of it.’
‘A tag?’ asked the junior officer.
‘B-A-G, bag,’ Pickett corrected.
‘Ponytail with a bag on it,’ muttered the junior officer, his ballpoint pen scratching away. ‘I can’t believe I’m writing this.’
‘Do you know what the two were talking about?’
With a nervous glance at Jud, Michael said, ‘Not really. Because of our contracts, we’re not supposed to be giving interviews, so I split.’
I raised a hand. ‘I saw Alex, too, Detective. But whoever he was talking to had just left.’ I swiveled on the loveseat to face Michael. ‘Michael, how do you know it was a reporter? Alex told me the guy was a tourist from Raleigh.’
Michael scowled. ‘If he was a tourist, then I’m a prima ballerina.’
So, Alex had lied to me. That stung. I stole a quick glance at Amy, but Detective Pickett drew me back to the matter at hand. ‘What happened next, Mrs Ives?’
‘We walked for a bit, then we ran into my husband. I didn’t see where Alex went after that.’
‘What happens now, Detective?’ Jud wanted to know.
‘As soon as we finish processing the scene, we’ll be transporting the body up to the medical examiner in Baltimore for autopsy.’
Next to me, Amy gasped.
Lt Pickett addressed her directly, his voice gentle. ‘It will help us find out what killed him, Miss. Whether it was an accident, or… or, something else.’
‘Accident, had to have been an accident,’ Michael said. ‘Who would want to hurt Alex? He was one of the nice guys, you know?’
Jud frowned. ‘What impact will this have on the continuation of our show?’
‘Until we get the autopsy results, which, barring complications, should be in a couple of days, I must ask that nobody leaves town.’
Amy’s giggle had a manic edge. ‘That’s a laugh! We’re stuck here for the duration anyway, right?’
‘From a policeman’s point of view, it’s awfully convenient having all of you together in the same house,’ Pickett admitted. ‘Like one of those Agatha Christie novels where everyone’s snowbound at Chipping Monktip for the weekend.’
Melody, who had been staring at a spot on the wall, sitting bolt upright with her hands folded demurely in her lap, suddenly roused herself. ‘All of the suspects are right here in this room,’ she intoned.
Jack gave me a look – see, I told you the children shouldn’t be here – and I gave him one right back. Chill out, Jack.
‘That’s what always happens on Masterpiece Mystery,’ Melody forged on, unchallenged. ‘Hercule Poirot comes into the room et voilà!’ She pursed her lips, furrowed her brow. ‘Eet iz zee brain, zee liddle gray cells, on which one must rely.’ What we need, is Hercule Poirot.’ She favored us with an elaborate sigh. ‘But he’s a fictional character.’
Amy and I exchanged glances.
Both she and I knew that one of the suspects was not in the room, and he was far from fictional.
TWENTY-ONE
‘What’s two-penny worth of yeast, anyway? A teaspoon? A cup? Then it says to beat for three-quarters of an hour. No wonder they needed slaves.’
French Fry, housemaid
Two nights later, with the table set, candles lit and the food laid out for dinner, Jack summoned the family and all the staff to the dining room.
With a face like Mount Rushmore, he cleared his throat several times, then said, ‘I have an announcement to make. Founding Father has just notified me that according to the medical examiner, our dear friend, Alex Mueller, died of a broken neck as the result of a fall. His death has been ruled accidental. Let us pray.’
Almost without taking a breath, Jack launched into a rambling grace that touched on food, death, the souls of men (and women) and the downtrodden people of the third world. While the food on the platters cooled, and Jack showed no sign of winding down, I dared to raise my head and look at Amy. She stood by the buffet, hands folded in front of her – even in the candlelight I could see that her knuckles were white. Her mouth was a thin line, and she was shaking her head and mouthing, ‘No, no, no, no.’
Late that night, Amy came to me in my chamber. ‘Would you like me to brush your hair?’
‘Oh, yes.’ I threw back the covers, slid out of bed and sat in the chair in front of the vanity table. ‘I’d give anything for some Pantene,’ I mused as she came up behind me and started brushing the tangles out of my hair. ‘One of those itty-bitty bottles of shampoo you get in hotels. Is that too much to ask?’
‘You and me both. From the Waldorf-Astoria or Holiday Inn, wouldn’t matter. My hair is so stiff from that bar soap we made that it looks like I’m wearing a helmet. Karen says I should try rinsing it with vinegar.’
‘Phew!’ I said.
Amy brushed in silence for a while. ‘Your husband works at the Naval Academy, right?’
‘Uh huh.’ I was enjoying the gentle massage of the bristles against my scalp.
‘Drew murdered Alex, I know he did.’
‘The medical examiner determined that it was an accident, Amy.’
‘I don’t believe that any more than you do, Hannah.’
‘You’re right, I don’t. I think it’s possible that Alex broke his neck in a fall, but not very probable.’ I twisted around in my chair. ‘What is Drew’s motive, Amy?’ When I saw the expression on Amy’s face, I froze. ‘Did he know about you and Alex?’
Amy blushed. ‘Alex has been visiting my room at night. If Drew has been watching the house…’ Her voice trailed off.
‘That sounds like motive to me.’
‘So, how can we prove it?’
‘That’s the hard part,’ I said. ‘Drew is a phantom. And, according to the government, which we all know is infallible, Drew Cornell doesn’t even exist.’
The brush stopped. ‘Do you think I’m in danger?’
‘No, I don’t. Drew needs you to collect the insurance money for him. He believes you’ll join him after that happens, no matter what. You are essential to his plan.’ I waved a hand. ‘Brush!’
‘One thing I wonder about,’ I said after a bit. ‘Why didn’t Drew contact you sooner? Even third world countries have cell phones and Internet cafes.’
‘I had my cell number changed after the break-in. My email account was hacked, and my Facebook page was hijacked so badly that I couldn’t even log on. I had to set up new ones.’ The brush stopped. ‘Then I came here, so it took Drew a while to track me down. Otherwise?’ In the mirror, I saw her shrug. ‘Maybe he was afraid my phone would be tapped. Maybe he thought I was being watched and I wouldn’t act like a proper widow if I knew he was actually alive?’
‘You asked me about Paul. How can he help?’
‘He has friends in high places?’
I laughed. ‘High military places? I suppose he does. Midshipmen who Paul used to teach are now captains, and I think there’s even one vice admiral among his former students.’ My eyes locked on to hers in the reflection in the mirror. ‘I could tell Paul that Drew is alive, sure, and he could pass that information on to the Navy brass, but that wouldn’t prove anything.’