The Monarch Graveyard

by James R Nelson

  Stephen tossed off the covers. He was wide awake. He couldn’t stop all the questions whirling around his head. He grabbed a robe and slipped out of his room. He went up to the library on the third floor and shut the door. It was his getaway place to go when he couldn’t sleep. The aroma of old leather and old books relaxed him. He found a biography of Monet he had started to read a few months before.

  He wrapped up in an afghan Cora had crocheted and settled into a chair. Twenty minutes later, he fell asleep.

  Twenty Two

  Kimberly stepped into the kitchen. “Look, Daddy. I’m walking without my braces.” Both Walter and his sister turned from their chairs.

  Walter went over to her. “Where are they?”

  “I left them in the bedroom. I can walk without them now. My legs are stronger.”

  “I don’t know, Honey. I’m not sure you should be doing this.”

  Irene got up from the table. “Have you been practicing without your braces?”

  Kimberly nodded. “Yes. I’ve been walking in my room before Daddy gets there. At first I could only go a little bit, but now I can go longer. I want to go see the butterflies today without my braces. Can I?”

  Walter glanced over toward Irene. “Well, we’ll take them with us just in case you get tired. Okay?”

  Irene said, “Yes. I think that’s a good idea. I have a few things to do, but you know how to get there.”

  Walter took his daughter’s hand. “What if that lady in black is still there? Will you be afraid?”

  “We don’t have to go near her, do we?”

  “No, Kimberly. We don’t have to.” He looked at his watch. “We need to have breakfast and then help Aunt Irene with the dishes. How about we leave for the butterfly place in a few hours.”

  She smiled. “Good. I hope we see a whole bunch of them today.”

  ###

  Stephen’s eyes flew open. Someone was shaking him. Phillip was standing over the chair with a concerned look. “Wake up. Stephen, wake up!”

  “What time is it?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. What time is it?”

  “It’s eight-thirty.”

  Stephen tossed the afghan onto the floor. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m supposed to make breakfast this morning.” He looked around. “I must have fallen asleep here last night.”

  Phillip stepped closer and asked him again, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. I’m sorry I overslept. Let me get dressed. I’ll start the breakfast in a few minutes.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  From the tone of his uncle’s voice, Stephen knew it was something else. “What is it?”

  Phillip stepped away and closed the library door. He lowered his voice, “When I got up and didn’t see you in the kitchen, I went to your room to find you.” He paused.

  “Yes?”

  He reached behind his back and pulled a long butcher knife out from his belt. “I found this stuck through your blankets and into the mattress.”

  Stephen stepped back. He stared at the knife and then looked up at Phillip. “Um, looks like someone was—”

  “I know. What in the hell’s going on?”

  He grabbed his uncle. “Wait a minute. There’s something I need to tell you about Irving. Yesterday I got a call from that woman reporter I told you about.” Stephen quickly brought Phillip up to speed about what he had discussed with Gayle.

  “What would that have to do with this knife in your bed?”

  “I think he knew I went out to Pearblossom. Somebody followed me. I bet Irving put a tail on me the minute I left his office. He knew I was asking about Cyrus, and he probably didn’t like it.”

  Phillip pondered what Stephen had said. “Maybe he decided to pay us a visit to see how much about this you really know.” He paused. “But know about what? Has anyone checked to see if paint on Irving’s car matched the paint on the car that hit Francesco?”

  “No. By the time Gayle drove all the way over there again the car was gone.”

  Phillip moved toward the door. “Enough about that damn car nonsense. I’m going to call the police.”

  Stephen grabbed him. “Wait a minute. What are you going to say?”

  “I’ll tell them somebody threatened your life.”

  “Then what? What are they going to do that we can’t do?”

  Phillip answered, “They can check the knife for fingerprints.”

  Stephen pointed to the knife in his uncle’s hand. “And your prints will be all over it.”

  Phillip glanced down. “What do you suggest?”

  “I say we don’t mention a word of this downstairs. Let’s act like nothing’s happened and see his reaction.”

  “I don’t know. I certainly don’t want some dangerous lunatic roaming around Cliffside Manor.”

  “Me either. But we’ve got to figure out what’s going on.”

  Phillip said, “We need to watch Irving at breakfast. See if he’s acting differently.” He pulled out a desk drawer and set down.

  “Oh, breakfast! I’m supposed to be making it,” Stephen

  “I’m sure Judith’s doing it by now. If she noticed you weren’t there, she’s probably got a good start on it.” He turned and gave Stephen a hug. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but thank goodness you’re okay. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I just find it almost impossible to believe that Irving would do something like that.”

  “Who knows what’s going on? I’ll be sleeping with my door locked tonight and I suggest you do the same.”

  They stopped at Stephen’s room. “I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”

  When they reached the bottom of the steps, Phillip said, “I hear Allen and Irving talking, but I don’t smell anything coming from the kitchen. I’m going back to the dining room and tell them it will be a few more minutes. Find Judith. Have her start cooking.”

  “Okay.” As Phillip disappeared down the hallway, Stephen checked the kitchen. It was empty. He returned upstairs and knocked on Judith’s door. “Judith! Are you up? A change of plans. Would it be possible for you to do the cooking this morning?” There was no answer.

  He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was in shambles. The desk lamp was turned over. Her bed was unmade. He walked over to the closet. It was empty. He surveyed the room. There were no personal things sitting around. What about her car?

  Stephen ran down the stairs, exited the house, and quickly walked over to the six car garage. Her car was gone. Great! This was just what Phillip needed now. What happened? Did Barbara pull another stunt the night before? He’d have to ask Phillip, but now he had breakfast to worry about.

  A plate of fried eggs was warming on the stove and a pan of bacon was almost ready when Phillip stuck his head in the kitchen doorway. “Where’s Judith?”

  Stephen grabbed a paper towel and wiped sweat from his forehead. “Gone. Her room’s cleared out and her car’s not in the garage. Was there some kind of blow-out last night with Barbara?”

  “Not that I know of. We hardly saw Barbara She grabbed a plate of food and went back to the cottage. We didn’t see her for the rest of the night. She’s not very happy with you, though.”

  “Not happy with me? Why?”

  “She blames you for having the booze locked up.”

  Stephen laughed. “That’s funny. Why is that my fault?”

  “I think she overheard you complaining to me about her drinking too much.”

  “So typical. Drunks never face up to their problems.”

  Phillip glanced around the kitchen. “Are you sure Judith’s not here somewhere?”

  “If she is, she’s hidden all of her belongings along with her car.”

  Phillip shook his head. “Don’t tell me she’s quit already?”

  “It appears that’s what happened.” He turn
ed back to the bacon. “Any ideas about my sharp overnight gift?”

  “I’ve been wondering the same question. Irving’s in the dining room like nothing’s happened, and I don’t think Barbara’s that mad at you. Unless that was some feeble way to send you a message not to mess around with her martinis.”

  Stephen moved the bacon over to a plate. “What about Judith?”

  Phillip stared at him. “Judith? Why in heaven’s name would she do something like that?”

  Stephen shrugged. “Why in heaven’s name would she disappear in the middle of the night?”

  Phillip picked up a serving tray piled high with pancakes. “None of this makes a lick of sense. I’m just hoping Irving doesn’t want to hang around. I don’t trust him, and I know you don’t either.” He returned to the dining room.

  A few minutes later, Stephen entered with a platter full of food. As they ate, both Stephen and his uncle kept a close eye on Irving. He seemed normal. Allen was oblivious. Barbara never showed. She must have decided to stay at the cottage.

  When everyone was almost finished eating, Phillip said, “Irving, I’m so sorry, but Allen and Stephen and I have quite a bit of work to do. I’m afraid we’ll be busy for most of the day.”

  Irving smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’d like to take a nice walk outside and look at the lake. Maybe I’ll visit with Ms. Jenkins for a while.”

  Phillip glared at him for a few seconds. “Fine. Gentlemen, we need to retreat to my office.”

  ###

  Paulie poured his fourth cup of coffee. He was sweating. He looked at the clock. If he was going to leave, it had to be now. His few belongings had already been packed in the car. He reached for the gun that was resting on the kitchen table. Now. It had to be now.

  He walked into the bedroom. Kitty rolled onto her side and looked into his eyes. “No, Paulie. Please! Don’t kill me!”

  He aimed at her head, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger. He stumbled back into the living room and yelled, “There. Hope you learned your lesson. Don’t try and screw me behind my back.”

  He ran out to the car and slid behind the wheel. He was shaking. He rolled the window down and took in several deep breaths. After a few minutes, he pulled a map from the glove box. He had to get out of there. Which route was the best way to get to the city? He could go east to the bridge and then head down the middle of Michigan or skirt along the west side of the lake and head toward Chicago, then turn east. The Michigan way looked like it went through a bunch of nothing. What if he broke down? He’d heard about Chicago. Good blues, good food, and women. Probably take a few hours longer, but at least he was headed toward civilization. Chicago it was.

  Should he try and find that actress one more time like he told Al? Why not. He’d go right past Kahle’s road when he headed out of town. At least he could tell Al he tried.

  Paulie started the car and watched as the cabin disappeared in his rear-view mirror. He never wanted to see that place again.

  ###

  Back in the office, Phillip opened his copy of the script. “What’s wrong with that man? Can’t he see we’re busy? I thought when I told him we’d all be working today, he’d get the hint and leave. No. God knows how long he’s going to stick around.”

  Alan smiled. “It’s Barbara. Did you see his eye’s get wide when she stepped into the dining room last night?”

  Phillip grabbed a pencil. “No. I missed it. She was only there for a few minutes. She filled her plate and went back to the cottage.”

  “I know,” Allen responded. “But he kept asking me questions about her all night. He said he had met her once, but when he saw her walk into the room, that quick glimpse was enough to fascinate him.”

  Phillip frowned. “He’d better watch out. That old boyfriend of hers isn’t anybody to mess with. And they both live in L.A. I’ll have to have a word with him tonight.” He glanced down at the script and looked over at Stephen. “This is impossible. I can’t concentrate. It’s time to have a talk with Irving.”

  Alan looked confused. “Talk to him about what?”

  “Someone paid Stephen a visit in the middle of the night.”

  Alan smiled. “Really?”

  “Not the kind you’re thinking of,” Stephen replied.

  Phillip pulled open the top drawer of his desk and pulled out the huge butcher knife. “Someone snuck into his room and stabbed this into his bed.”

  “What?” Alan asked. He stood up. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. I couldn’t sleep, so I went up to the library to read. I ended up spending the whole night there.”

  “But…who…” Allen stammered.

  “That’s why we want to talk to Irving,” Phillip said.

  “Irving? Why in God’s name would he want to do something like that?”

  “It’s a long story. Stephen found out a few puzzling things on his trip to Los Angeles. I think it’s time for us to confront him.”

  Alan looked around. “Do you want me to stay?”

  Phillip shook his head. “No, but don’t go far. Once we get him in here, I’ll close the door. Maybe you should take a chair and sit outside in the hallway just in case.” Phillip returned the knife to the drawer. “I’ll have this for safe keeping.” He stood. “I’ll go get him now.”

  A few minutes later, Phillip returned to the office and asked Irving to take a seat. Irving moved a chair next to Stephen and sat down. Phillip settled behind his desk and said, “Stephen and I have been working on a script Allen’s written. We think it’s good. Very good. Even better than the script he knocked out for the last movie. It’s a terrific piece about a haunted house, and you know how wild everyone’s been over The Amityville Horror.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “We all made a lot of money on my last movie, and I can see that the potential is there for the next one too. I’d really like your firm to finance the picture.”

  Irving smiled. “Excellent. That’s why I’m here. I was hoping we could all come to an agreement on the terms of the —”

  Phillip held up his hand. “Excuse me. There are a few very serious questions that must be addressed before we can move on.”

  Irving cocked his head. “Serious questions? What are they?”

  Phillip nodded to Stephen. Stephen pulled his chair closer. “Can you tell me why your BMW was sitting in Cyrus’s garage behind his house in Pearblossom?” Stephen conveniently didn’t mention that the car was now gone.

  Irving gave a start. “My car’s in Cyrus’s garage in Pearblossom? That car was stolen several months ago. How did it get there?”

  Phillip interjected. “That’s what we’d like to know.”

  Irving turned to him. “Did you not hear what I just said? My car was stolen. How am I supposed to know who took it or where it ended up?”

  Stephen asked, “You weren’t hiding it out there while Cyrus was in Florida?”

  “How do you hide a stolen car? Just what is it you’re accusing me of?”

  “I’ve got another question for you,” Phillip said. He pulled out the butcher knife from his desk drawer. “What was this all about?”

  Irving’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about? What’s that knife all about? How the hell do I know? I’ve never seen it in my life.” He looked back and forth between them. “What am I missing here? You people aren’t making any sense.”

  “One more question,” Phillip asked. “What’s Cyrus’s status with the firm?”

  Irving settled back in his chair. “Finally a question I can understand.” He pulled out a handkerchief. “I have absolutely no idea about what you guys think is going on. My stolen car shows up at that shack I told Cyrus not to invest in. You’re waving a big knife in my face, and I’m supposed to know why? But the firm. Look, I could be committing perjury when I tell you this, but you’ve aroused my curiosity. I must warn you both, what I’m about to say cannot be shared with anyone.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve been secretly wor
king with the Feds for the last eight months. There’s evidence that Cyrus has been laundering money for the mob. Apparently he’s been working with a few of his race track buddies and has been moving large sums of their money through various bogus companies. From what I’ve been told, they’re about ready to close down the whole dirty operation. I’m afraid, if Cyrus pulls through, he’s going to be looking at quite a few years in the Federal penitentiary.” He took a deep breath.

  “How do you suppose your car ended up in Cyrus’s garage?”

  “I have no idea, but he could have easily taken it if he wanted to. We all keep our keys on a pegboard at the office. He could have made a duplicate key anytime. Buy why? He has a brand new car of his own.” He glanced down at his drink. “How did you find my stolen car in that garage, and what’s the story about the butcher knife?”

  Phillip looked at Stephen. Stephen shrugged. “Tell him.”

  Phillip explained how he had gone to Stephen’s room and found the knife stuck in his mattress.

  Stephen told Irving about his trip to Pearblossom but left out any mention of Gayle.

  “I wondered why you had gone all the way out to Pearblossom,” Irving replied. “But what made you go there in the first place?”

  “What do you mean, you wondered why I had gone there. How did you know?”

  “Easy. I had you followed.”

  Stephen snapped his fingers. “I knew it was you! Why?”

  “Because I’m up to my neck in a secret Federal investigation involving the mob and my partner, and all of a sudden you show up asking questions. You could have blown the whole thing. I didn’t know why you were asking questions, and I also didn’t know who else you were traipsing around with asking questions to. You had me worried. You start asking the wrong people questions in L.A., like Johnny Stampos, for example, and you could disappear. I called a private detective friend of mine, and he sent one of his men out to keep an eye on you.”

  Irving’s eyes narrowed. “But wait a minute. Don’t tell me that for even a second, you thought I tried to stab Stephen in the middle of the night?”