Murder in a Basket (An India Hayes Mystery) (21 page)

Chapter
Thirty-Seven

The Halloween decorations that were spooky and whimsical on Halloween night looked garish and cheap in the light of November first, All Saints Day. Even Templeton didn’t seem to bask in his black catness as much. Not that he found himself any less handsome. He licked his paws and smoothed down his ruff.

I planned
to paint all morning, as it was my day off. I was far behind on a landscape I’d hoped to enter into a statewide contest. If I won or even placed, I would have my name in newspapers all over Ohio. The exposure would be great. Instead, I decided to drop in on Debra Wagtail.

Outside
, remnants of frost clung to the lawn and the cheerful faces of the leprechauns. Despite the chill in the air, Ina sipped her daily mug of Irish cream coffee on the front porch. It wouldn’t be long before the snow would fly. I wondered if we would get yet another white Thanksgiving. “Where are you off to this morning?” she asked.

It was hopeless to keep anything a secret from Ina, so I told her.

“Debra’s? Why?”

“
I want to hear her opinion on Victor’s will.”

She clapped her hands.
“Hot dog! I knew it all ended too easily. You’re going to reopen the case!”

“
I’m just going to ask a few questions, and I can’t reopen a case. I’m not a cop, remember?”

“
Pshaw! Let me grab my purse.”

Debra lived in a condominium. Hers was
one of several dozen ranch-style condominiums clustered around a clubhouse and swimming pool. The pool was closed, but a smattering of silver-haired retirees played an early morning round of bocce. Big pots of orange and burgundy mums sat under Debra’s windows, and bird feeders hung from a large maple tree in the front yard. No surprise there.

Ina rang the doorbell.
A minute later Debra opened the door. She invited us in as if she’d been expecting us.

Even knowing Debra’s affinity f
or her feathered friends did not prepare me for the inside of her home. Birds. Birds everywhere. Not live birds, but ceramic birds, wooden birds, beaded birds, glass birds, metal birds. Birds on tables, birds on chairs, birds on the floor, birds hanging from the ceiling. I’d seen kitschy collections before, but nothing of this caliber.

“
Have a seat.” Debra directed us to the kitchen table, which had a finch-patterned tablecloth. I glanced over at Ina, who chose a seat closest to the wall and farthest away from me, to gauge her reaction to the birds. Ina seemed to take the chirpy decor in stride. But then again, this was from a woman who decked out her apartment in Viva Ireland style. Green was the color of choice for everything in Ina’s world. I mused whether or not this was an older-woman trait. One day would I suddenly become the frog lady? It began small with a ribbit ringtone, and
bam
, I wake up at seventy with an amphibian infestation. I shivered and vowed to change my ringtone back to the ice cream truck song, no matter how much it annoyed Bobby. Perhaps, that was part of its enduring charm.

“
Are you cold?” Debra asked.

“
No, I’m fine,” I answered quickly.

“
I’ll make us some tea, and I have muffins. One of my neighbors made them for me.” She held out a plate of banana muffins to me, and then made the same offer to Ina. We each took one, and Debra put the kettle on the stove before she sat down in between Ina and me.

“
Where’s your husband?” Ina asked.

“
My husband’s at work. He’s retiring at the end of the year.”

“
That’s exciting,” I said.

She nodded.
“Yes and no. He’s a good man, but he doesn’t have many hobbies. He’s bound to be underfoot. I married him for better or worse, but not for lunch.”

I laughed, and
Ina grinned.

“
Maybe you can interest him in your birding.”

Debra laughed.
“Oh, no, I’ve given up trying to do that.” The teakettle whistled, and Debra hurried to the stove. “Something tells me you aren’t here to talk about my husband’s retirement or birding.”

“
India thinks they’ve arrested the wrong person for Tess’s murder.” Ina took a large bite of muffin after her announcement.

Good thing Ina wisely sat out of reach because I could have kicked her just then.

Debra put a teapot in the middle of the table and rejoined us. “Is that true? I thought you were the one who caught her.”

More like stumbled upon her, I thought.
“Her friends don’t think she’s the one.”

Debra looked dubious.
“Don’t friends always think that of someone they care about?”

“
They were pretty convincing.” I glanced at Ina, who gave me her little impish smile. “Ina was mistaken. I don’t necessarily think the police arrested the wrong person. Celeste may turn out to be the killer, but I’m not sure.”

“
I don’t know about you, but I want to be sure. I don’t want the wrong person to go to prison.”

“
So you’ll help?” Ina asked.

“
I don’t know how I can. I don’t know Tess’s friends well. I don’t even know all of their names.”

“
What if this isn’t related to her friends? What if it goes back to Victor and his money?” I asked.

“
Oh, that again. I thought the police ruled it out.”

“
We are trying every angle,” Ina said.

Debra poured the tea.
“Fine. I’ll do what I can to help.”

I swallowed a bite of muffin.
“Why do you think Victor left his money to Tess? Were they close?”

“
Not at all. In fact, Tess might have been the most distant from Victor out of all of us. She was too caught up in her artist world to pay much attention to Victor.”

“
Were there any restrictions to the trust aside from Zach’s care?”

“
Not that I know of. I believe Tess could do whatever she wanted with the money after Zach’s death.”

“
I heard Tess planned to use some of the money to help the co-op.”

“
I wouldn’t know that. You might want to ask David Berring.”

“
You know David?” I asked, surprised because she had mentioned a few minutes before that she didn’t know any of Tess’s friends.

“
Before he and Tess opened the co-op, he was my uncle’s executive assistant. I believe that’s how he and Tess met.”

I blinked
. “When was that?”

“
Oh, my, I don’t know. I think he worked for Uncle Victor until eight or ten years ago. After he quit, my uncle didn’t hire a new executive assistant. He said there wasn’t anyone he could trust like David.”

“
So he was upset when David resigned.”

Debra ran her finger around the rim of her mug.
“No, I wouldn’t say that. Anxious was more like it. I think he was worried about handling his affairs on his own. Although by that time, he was just a figurehead in the company.” She looked thoughtful. “He made a big donation to the co-op to help Tess and David get it off the ground. They had another business partner, too, a woman, but I can’t remember her name.”

“
It was Celeste, the woman charged with the murder.”

Debra
’s eyes widened. “Really. Oh, my.”

Ina leaned forward.
“What kind of donation did Victor make?”

“
He bought the property for them. I remember because Sam was livid about it. He said it was a huge waste of our inheritance, not knowing of course that we wouldn’t be getting a dime in the end.”

I could imagine the scene. I’d witnessed Provost Lepcheck lose his temper in one too many faculty meetings. It wasn’t pretty.

“Did Victor usually support local arts?” I asked.

“
No, not before this. I guess he was just supporting Tess and David.”

“
Did he support the causes you and your brother cared about? Your birds and Lepcheck’s Martin?”

“
No, he didn’t,” she murmured. “Sam tried to convince Uncle to leave some of the money to Martin in his will, but as you know, that didn’t happen. Sam was furious.” She reddened. “Not that I think he had anything to do with either murder.”

“
Of course not,” Ina said soothingly.

Ina and I finished our tea and muffins and left.

“Where to now?” Ina asked when we were back in my car.

“
Victor’s house.”

“
Are we going to break and enter?” Ina had a gleam in her eye.

“
No, but I’m going to call in a favor.”

“
You’re no fun,” Ina muttered. “When will I get a chance to try my lock picks? They just arrived in the mail yesterday.”

Chapter
Thirty-Eight

Lew met us outside Victor’s home. The house was a centennial gray Victorian home, which looked like it was better suited for an estate in Vermont than a small town in Ohio. Two massive oak trees dominated the front yard. Their leaves covered the lawn and shrubbery like a brown paper blanket.

Lew was staring at the leaves with his hands on his hips when Ina and I pulled into the brick driveway.

Ina shuffled her feet through the leaves. “You should get someone over here to rake these up. The neighbors are going to start to complain, especially on the account that his house is so close to the square. You don’t want the garden club on your behind.”

He reached into his jacket for his ever-present pack of cigarettes.

“Thanks for letting us in, Lew,” I said.

He shrugged.
“I owed you. How’s the dog doing?”

“
Fine. Dad’s taken a shine to him. I’m thinking about getting him a pet when this is all settled.”

Lew grinned.
“I’d gladly turn Zach over to him, but I can’t, since the dog’s a millionaire.” He blew out a puff of smoke. “So why exactly do you need to get in here?”

“
I thought it would help me feel more at ease about Celeste’s arrest.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you curious as to why Victor left his money and dog to Tess? From what I’ve gathered, she and Victor weren’t particularly close.”

“
I don’t need to know why my clients do things, especially if they settle their bills with me on time, and Victor always did.” He walked to the front door. “But if you want to go on a wild goose chase to find out, be my guest. If you find anything, it might help me settle up his estate in the end.”

The front door opened into a small foyer with a stone
-tiled floor. Ina wove between Lew and me and hurried into the house. “I’ve always wanted to visit this house. It’s one of the oldest in Stripling. Juliet is going be green with envy when I tell her.” She disappeared down the hall.

A second later
, there was a crash.

“
It’s okay. It was just a vase. Not an antique or anything,” Ina called from deep in the house.

Lew gave me a look before
stalking off in the direction of Ina’s voice. I went in search of Victor’s home office. In the library I found a large desk. By the papers piled there, I suspected that’s where Victor did most of his business after he sold his company, Summit Polymer. There were two large file drawers on either side of the desk. They were unlocked. The left-hand-side drawers were files that referred to Victor’s business. I gave them a cursory look, but since I knew next to nothing about chemical engineering, I didn’t glean much from that drawer. The drawer on the right side was more promising. They looked like Victor’s personal files.

Deep in the house, a cell phone rang. A minute
later Lew stepped into the room. “That was Sam Lepcheck’s lawyer. I have to go for an emergency meeting about the trust. Hopefully, everything can be settled today.”

“
That would be a relief. Zach’s a great dog, but I will be happy to turn him back over to his family.”

Lew tossed me a set of keys, and I caught them
in midair. “Lock up before you leave. You can drop those at my office later today.”

“
Sure.”

Lew looked around.
“Where’s your pal?”

I shrugged.

“Don’t let her break anything else, okay?”

“
I’ll try.”

I opened the filing
cabinet. Bills, tax returns . . . police reports? I removed this last folder. There was only one document inside, and it was dated ten years before. It was the police report from the hit-and-run that killed Derek’s father. The document was depressingly short. After reading it, I rocked back in the leather desk chair. I knew families could get police reports if they requested them. They were part of the public record after all—but why did Victor have a copy? Did Tess even know he had a copy of the report?

Seth
Welch was hit by a car when he was walking home from his CPA office on the town square. It was tax season, and he was heading home later than normal, so it was already after dark when he left the office. He was crossing at a crosswalk when he was hit. He died instantly. The police on the scene reported the streetlight near the accident had been out, and Welch had been wearing a dark suit, which might have contributed to the driver of the car not seeing him. There were no tire marks on the road that would give an indication the driver had tried to stop before hitting Welch. The driver was never caught. The rookie cop, who filed the report, was none other than Officer Richmond Mains.

There was
a crash from the floor above me.

“
I’m okay,” was Ina’s cry.

I put the report back
where I found it and followed the direction of Ina’s voice.

I walked up the mahogany staircase, trailing my hand up the railing. I disturbed
a thick layer of dust lingering there. The second floor was lined with closed mahogany doors. At the end of the hall, a door was cracked open, and I could hear Ina muttering to herself. “Why would a man have such a breakable trinket?”

I found
her in what must have been Victor’s bedroom. A king-sized four-post bed dominated the center and two large black dressers flanked the walls. Despite the open drapes, the room was dim with dark carpet and wallpaper. A heavy-looking chandelier hung low from the ceiling at the foot of the bed. There was no sign of the medical trappings that I knew must have been there in his final illness. I tried to imagine Debra there, caring for her elderly uncle. It was easy for me to imagine Debra bustling throughout the room with a sure sufficiency.

Ina crouched on the floor
to pick up bits of ceramics. Somewhere she’d found a dustpan and small brush, and she brushed the sad remains of the trinket into the pan.

“
What was that?” I asked.

Ina looked up.
“Just a little elephant. Pink even. I wonder why Victor would have such a girly knick-knack.”

I sighed
and knelt down to help Ina pick up the tiny pieces. “You’re telling Lew, not me.”

“
It was an accident. This has been a bust. I haven’t found anything good at all. What about you?”

“
I’m not sure.” I sat on the edge of Victor’s bed, still thinking about the file I’d found. I opened the door to the nightstand beside the bed. Inside I found the normal items that are found in such a drawer: medicine bottles, pens, pencils, bits of this and that. I edged these items around in the drawer with my fingers and took hold of the edge of a photograph. I pulled it out of the drawer. It was wrinkled and worn, as if it had been handled many times before. It was a couple standing in front of a small house with their child. The couple was white, and the child was Asian. I immediately realized the child was Derek, and the parents were Tess and her first husband, Seth. In the photo, Derek couldn’t have been more than eight, and he grinned at the camera. Behind him, Tess and Seth smiled benignly, happily at the photographer. I realized it was the same photograph that had appeared in the
Stripling Dispatch
article about the hit and run. Who knew, ten years later, Derek would be the only one left?

Why would Victor Lepcheck have a photograph of the
Welch family? I wondered. Of course, Tess was his relative, but so were Debra and Martin’s provost. Their pictures weren’t in the drawer. I checked.

There was a clatter as
Ina unceremoniously dumped the shattered elephant into a small wastebasket in the corner of the room. “What do you have there?” Ina asked.

“
I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But I think it’s important.”