The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery) (26 page)

I figured the answer was yes.

Muriel would have been a sitting duck. Just like Vera.

But now I just had to prove it.

The time was now ten o’clock. Uncle Mick had arrived with Dwight Jenkins. They were no sooner through the door when Eddie showed up with the signora and the cats. The cats vanished instantly. I rushed down the stairs to get everyone settled. Uncle Mick and Dwight Jenkins were ushered into the library. Jenkins was sputtering at the inconvenience. He was ill-advisedly using the word “kidnap” in that sputtering.

I said, “You can stop that talk now. You’ve been used as part of a murder plot and you’ll cooperate with Miss Van Alst and hope you don’t have the full weight of the law and the licensing body on your head. Uncle Mick, as soon as the will’s witnessed you need to put your car out of sight. Try behind the garage.” I headed off a bout of outrage. “Not for long and incredibly important. You too, Eddie. No one must know we’re here.”

Uncle Mick’s mouth snapped shut. It didn’t take long for Vera to sign the new will leaving everything to the cats. Uncle Mick wasn’t keen on that, but he did witness. Eddie did too.

“I hope this will be the last time,” Jenkins complained.

Vera said, “You’re not being paid to whine and you’re not the only game in town.”

Kev popped his head around the corner and said, “Where do you want the dogs?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t. Take them to the library and hope they’ll just go to sleep during our big moment. Mick will stay with Vera and you can help me by setting up the study. Eddie, I need you to get Mr. Murphy, your old English teacher, and bring him here.”

“Does he know he’s coming?”

“He doesn’t and he won’t like it, but he knows something about Muriel and Vera and this is the time to make him see how important it is.”

“But how can I—?”

“We are going to stop two people who wanted Vera dead. If we want to bring them to justice we need to hear from him. Talk him into it. I don’t care how.”

“I don’t even know where he lives.”

“I’ve looked that up for you.”

I called Cherie and Jasmine next and set up the next arrivals. Lucky for us Harrison Falls is small and compact. It didn’t take long for everyone to return.

I felt very Archie Goodwin as I met them in groups of two and ushered them into the study. This room, as I may have mentioned, is every bit as noteworthy as Wolfe’s study. There’s no globe, but the room was grand and elegant with its ten-foot ceilings and faded silk draperies. The furniture was exceptional, if past its prime.

Kev brought in extra chairs from the nearby sitting room without doing any damage. I was sorry there wasn’t a red chair, like Archie’s, but you can’t have everything.

Twelve chairs were arranged in a semicircle facing the desk. Cherie, who was no longer blond, as fallout from that BOLO, set up a laptop on the desk and adjusted the angle of the spare webcam to capture everything.

Kev had done an excellent job of setting up an antique bar cart complete with almost every liquor bottle in Van Alst House and a selection of Waterford crystal highball glasses and wineglasses. I surmised that he’d logged a few hours as a barman somewhere. Best not to know details.

I made a call to the police and sure enough in a matter of minutes, Detective Jack Jones was ushered into the study. I said, “You’ll find this instructive.”

Jones stared around, glaring at Cherie, Jasmine, Uncle Kev and me. He’d just started to rant when Eddie arrived with Mr. Murphy. I guess Mr. Murphy’s authority was still in effect after all those years, because Jones snapped his mouth closed and took a seat.

“This better be good,” he said. Cramer couldn’t have said it better.

Eddie scurried back to the library to spend a bit of time with Vera and wait for the magic moment. Two minutes later, Dwight Jenkins entered the study guided by Uncle Mick. Uncle Mick made the universal symbol for “not a word” and Jenkins slumped into the seat closest to the door.

All we had to do was sit and wait. I glanced at my watch. I’d been hoping that Melski would show up.

The signora threw herself into a whirlwind of preparation and somehow managed to swing through with a tray of cheeses, sliced bread, prosciutto, Genoa salami and olives.

“Eat!” she said. I could tell from her jubilance that she knew Muriel was not likely to win.

Kev took the tray from her hands and offered it around along with napkins. No one but Kev was hungry.

He followed that with offers of drinks. Jenkins went for Lagavulin. Uncle Mick is not one to say no to a drop of Jameson. Cherie accepted a Bacardi and Coke, Jasmine a Cosmo. Mr. Murphy agreed to a glass of merlot; Jones shook his head. Needed his wits about him, I supposed.

I did too.

So did Kev. I shook my head as his hand reached out to get himself a glass.

Every now and then, someone’s eyes would glance at the four empty chairs.

Cherie said, “We’ve got company.” She pointed to the screen.

Lainie had already entered the foyer. I hightailed it to the front of the house and caught her as she was starting up the stairs.

“Lainie? What are you doing here?” I feigned surprise.

She was more surprised; hers wasn’t feigned. She frowned. “Well, what are you doing here?”

“Something terrible has happened.” I was shaking. And I wasn’t entirely faking that. I had a pretty good idea who I was dealing with. She was looking as good as ever. The silver bob neatly pulled back in a classic ponytail, the red lipstick fresh, her clothing chic and becoming. The well-dressed and elegant murderer. Nero Wolfe and Archie had unmasked many of those.

“What is it, Jordan?”

“But why are you here? I don’t understand, Lainie. Do you know Vera?”

“Muriel Delgado called me from the hospital. She’s been coming by the café and she seems so lonely and out of place here, I thought she needed a friend.”

“Oh.” How stupid did she think I was?

“She thinks she’s having symptoms of a heart attack. She asked me to meet her there to help. I’m pretty sure it’s just nerves. She was completely overwrought.”

“Really? Why?”

Lainie blinked. “She was worried that Miss Van Alst might mix up her medications and she insisted that I come over and check. Vera’s been doing that lately. It’s so dangerous.”

I sniffed, then shuddered. “You’re too late. I think Vera’s dead.”

“What?”

“She’s not breathing. She’s in her bed. She’s just lying there and—”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. I was afraid to touch her.” I simulated a bit of hyperventilating, nicely done if I did say so myself.

Lainie put her arms around me and I managed not to flinch.

I pushed back and clutched her hands. “Do you have Muriel’s cell number? We need to let her know. Muriel needs to come right back. Now!”

“Shhh. You have to be calm, Jordan. I’ll call her. But if she’s having a heart attack . . .”

“You said you thought it was just nerves.”

Lainie tossed her silver ponytail. “Yes. And this terrible thing won’t help those nerves.”

I wailed, “You have to.”

“Yes, yes, I agree. I’m calling now. Muriel? It’s Lainie Hetherington. Yes. I am there. No, I’m afraid that she’s not all right. Well, I don’t want to say over the phone. Have you seen a doctor yet? No, don’t take a chance, please. No. I didn’t find her. Jordan Bingham did. Well, I don’t know why she’s here. I will ask her, but you should—hello?” She turned to me. “Oh dear. She’s pretty upset.”

“Let me tell you about upset.”

“What were you doing here, Jordan? Why did you go to Vera’s bedroom?”

“I wanted to try to reason with her about firing me and the others. I waited until Muriel left and let myself in. When I went to her bedroom, I found . . .”

Lainie’s eyes glittered. “You can see how this won’t look good for you, can’t you?”

“No one needs to know that I’m here, Lainie. Please check on her. Maybe she’s not dead. I . . . I’m not sure.”

I followed her up the stairs and turned away while she went into the room. The light was dim enough for my purposes. “I can’t bear to go back in there.”

Outside, I texted the signal to Cherie, who was set up in the study. I hoped she’d see on the screen what we needed.

The text came back.
She has picked up the pillow. Got her.

Kev began to holler downstairs. I opened the door. Lainie was leaning over the supposed sleeping form of Vera, with the pillow in her hands. That would have been recorded.

Lainie dropped the pillow. “What’s he yelling about? Why is he here? What is wrong with you people?”

“Fire!” Kev shouted, convincingly. “Get out of there now! This place will go up like a Roman candle.”

Our fire idea was going to come in handy after all.

Lainie hesitated. I said, “The place is on fire. It’s too late for Vera. Save yourself, Lainie.”

We raced for the stairs and down. At the foot, we were met by Uncle Mick. He has more natural authority than Kev. “Sorry, false alarm,” he said, raising his crystal glass of Jameson in a salute. “But there’s something you both should see. Matter of life or death.”

With his free hand, he shepherded the puzzled Lainie down the hall and into the study. She glanced around at Jasmine and Cherie and Jenkins. She frowned at Mr. Murphy, couldn’t quite place him. Her eyes widened when she spotted Jones.

“What’s going on here?”

“Drink?” Kev said.

Lainie shook her head and stared at Jones before moving toward the door. But Mick was standing there and he was more than enough Irish uncle to keep everyone in the room.

“You can’t keep me here,” she said. “I’d like to leave now.”

“That would be a very big mistake,” I said. “Don’t you want to hear what Muriel has to say when she comes back? She may try to suggest that you enticed her to do things.”

“She’s a very disturbed person,” Lainie snapped. “You can’t listen to anything she says.”

“But we’ll hear what you both have to say. She should be here any minute.”

Lainie went on the offensive. “At least the police are here. If you played a role in Vera’s death, they’ll find out.”

I glanced at my watch and smiled.

The tension in the room was nicely ratcheted up by the time Muriel made her grand, black and swirling entrance. Kev went to meet her. We could hear her bellowing. “What are you doing here, Kelly? Get the hell out! And is that a Siamese?”

Uncle Mick opened the door to the study as Muriel pursued Kev down the endless hallway. I peeked out. “Do come in, Ms. Delgado. We have some bad news for you about Vera.”

Muriel boomed from the corridor, “It was just a matter of time before she mixed up her medications. I need to see her body.”

Lainie slumped into the nearest empty chair and put her hands over her eyes.
Oh, Muriel, bad when your confederate decides to act like an ostrich.

Mick stepped aside and so did I. Muriel stomped into the room, glaring.

“What are all these people doing in my house? Get out, all of you!”

From behind her came a gravelly voice. “It’s not your house yet, Muriel.”

It was hard to know who was most thunderstruck, Muriel or Lainie. Both jaws dropped as Vera rolled into the room. A Siamese shot through the door too.

Vera made her way to the desk and with Eddie’s help moved from the wheelchair to the desk chair. I knew she could do that herself, but I think it made Eddie happy.

She smiled. “In the words of the great Mark Twain, ‘The report of my death is greatly exaggerated.’”

I couldn’t remember when I’d last seen her looking so cheerful.

“What’s this about?” Muriel blustered. “Everybody else but Vera out!”

“It’s about you putting drugs in my brownies and my tea.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous in the least. I did hang on to the evidence.”

Muriel blurted, “But the plate was empty.”

This was confirming what I’d suspected. Muriel wasn’t bright enough to have conjured up all this. Lainie, on the other hand, stood up to leave. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“But it does. And so in fact do the Rileys. You and Muriel also employed them.”

“I don’t know any Rileys.”

Now the spotlight was on Cherie. She looked good as a brunette too. She whipped the laptop around, fiddled a bit and clicked play.

The room was silent as we watched Lainie standing over Vera’s bed. We had a clear view of her picking up a pillow and leaning in.

Jasmine inhaled sharply, then gulped her Cosmo.

Jones looked like he was about to have a stroke. His hand shot to his head. His expression as he stared at Lainie told me he hadn’t been involved in the plot. It also told me he had been taken in by her and perhaps romantically involved.

I said, “So you were willing to kill Vera, Lainie. Did you also do in the Rileys because I was getting close to them?”

“I didn’t know any Rileys. I’m not sure what you’re trying to pull off here, but it won’t work.”

Jasmine piped up. “That’s not true. You did know them. I saw you together outside your restaurant. You were all really chummy.”

Muriel turned to Lainie and roared, “You killed Frankie and Junior? Why, you—”

“Forget the hokey movie lines, Muriel,” I said. “Nobody’s falling for it. This is all on your head, including Frankie and Junior.”

“That is definitely the woman who was there with Lainie and those landscapers,” Jasmine added. “She’d be hard to mix up with anyone else.”

Vera at this point was leaning back in her chair, enjoying the show.

I said, “Of course, the brownies came from your café. That will be easy to establish. Using your signature dish to murder someone? Not so bright. You both conspired to do that. Of course, now we realize that you took Muriel under your wing as a patient before you lost your license.”

Lainie fell for the bluff. Her eyes widened.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find out, Lainie? Muriel was just what you needed: a damaged and vindictive woman who could have access to a big estate, if only she could get rid of her half sister. Did it take long to coach Muriel to take over Vera’s life, to undermine her and get rid of her friends and support system?”