Heading home. Check in with Toni Vestri. She has news.
You can’t tell me?
Cop news to tell. Need her number?
Got it. Will touch base tomorrow.
Do that, I texted back.
I drove slowly. I was exhausted. The streets were quiet, but the bars were starting to let out so there was a hum of activity. I did a loop around the neighborhood, hoping for a parking space. I lucked out and found one up the hill about a block away from the townhouse. I’d need to wake up early to move the car so I wouldn’t get a ticket, but at that point, I didn’t care.
I was gathering my things, and a text came in from Toni. They lawyered up. Wondering if Babs was mistaken identity, or intended? Will leave you to ponder that tonight. Talk in the a.m. Heading home.
Toni had a point. We’d all been assuming that Mimi Cunningham was the intended target, obviously for good reasons. I hadn’t really shifted from that, but now? What if Babs was the target? The idea of Babs being strangled in the park, feet away from where I was having dinner, was horrifying. Poor Babs. If only I’d gone after her or Gus had put her in a cab. I shook myself. That thinking wouldn’t do any good.
Shifting my thinking, considering that maybe Babs was the intended target, changed the whole case for me. Murder itself was terrible, and violent. But strangulation took passion and intent. It wasn’t a quick or easy way to kill someone. Over the years I’d found that incredible passion could tip to violence more often than I like to think about. I didn’t know if it was better to believe that Babs had been killed on purpose or by mistaken identity.
Suddenly Holly flashed through my mind. Someone needed to tell her about Babs. I texted Toni and asked her if it was public yet.
Not yet. Morning. Just heard from Jack. Told him I’d call him first thing.
I want to be around when you tell Holly, I texted back.
Will do, was the return text. There were a lot of people who are going to be affected by Babs’s death. Arguably, more than had been affected by Mimi’s death. Babs’s life intersected many, including mine, and I had no doubt she would be missed.
The weight of her death hit me suddenly, and I sat for a minute and wept for her. I wouldn’t tell anyone else what had happened until Toni gave me the okay, but it was a heavy secret to keep. I really hoped no one was home, and I could just go to bed.
I dried my eyes and rewrapped my scarf around my neck. The watch cap was still on my head. Probably for the best, since taking it off would be a static fright show of curls.
I locked the car and double-checked that I’d actually done it. I was so tired. Then the names started coming to me. Holly. Hal. The Cunninghams. Emma. Gus. Eric. I went through the mental Rolodex of my head, trying to think about who would want Babs dead, and why. I thought back to the night of the reception and how angry she’d been at everybody, including Hal. And how out of sorts Hal had been.
Hal. Hal had something to do with every aspect of the case, no matter which way you looked at it. Hal? I thought the world of Hal. Everyone did. But in the last two hours I’d found out that he’d been doing illegal business with the Cunninghams and helped to cover up Martin’s death. I wondered if Babs had figured out part, or all, of that story. Did Jack Megan tell her something that triggered a memory? I couldn’t imagine how Babs must have felt. Especially if she blamed Hal. Lying from your partner was a particular type of betrayal.
Hal. Whenever we were trying to figure out who was doing what, he’d never been on the list for long. But now? Now his wife was dead. And like it or not, husbands were always on the top of the suspect list. Did he deserve to be there? What about Holly? Had she snapped for some reason? Had Mimi lost it?
I walked down the hill a block and then got my bearings. I looked around. If I took a left I could get in the alley gate and go up the back way. Avoiding the granite steps seemed like a good idea. Everything was icing over and the sidewalks were slippery.
I hoped Eric was awake. I wanted to talk to someone. I could trust him with everything, including all the secrets of the night. I let myself in the back door and made my way up the back staircase. A half a flight, Amelia’s apartment. Three more staircases, Eric’s apartment. Max was standing on the back staircase, looking at me. The back door was slightly ajar and I was about to call out when Max head-butted my calf.
“What’s up, guy?” I said softly. “You okay?” Max buried his head into my hand and then stepped aside to let me pass. I moved slowly into the room. The streetlights cast enough of a glow that I could make out a figure standing at the kitchen table sweeping everything into a bag, including my laptop. I flipped on the light switch and Hal Maxwell looked up, startled.
“What are you doing?” I was so surprised to see him I was frozen in place. Hal was too. I moved into the room, but Hal reacted more quickly than I did. He grabbed the bag and started running toward the front hall.
I started to run after him. I moved toward the kitchen table but saw a body lying on the floor. Eric. Oh no. Not Eric. I knelt beside him and checked his pulse. He groaned softly and moved. He was alive. I forced myself to stand up. I needed to get Hal.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Somebody, stop Hal!” Maybe Stewart was up. Where was Emma? I ran out the front door and hustled down the stairs. My knees were killing me, but I kept pushing. I couldn’t let him get out. I was three steps from the bottom landing and he was fumbling with the locks on the front door. I was just about to leap the distance between us when the door swung open. Hal stepped aside just in time to avoid being clipped by it. Emma stepped into the foyer. Hal grabbed the back of her coat and pulled her to him. He grabbed her neck in a chokehold. The front door slammed shut in the tussle.
“Nobody moves,” Hal said. “I’ll kill her, I swear I will.”
“Nobody’s moving, Hal. Please don’t hurt Emma,” I said.
“I never meant to hurt anyone—” he began.
“Of course you didn’t,” I said. “I know how much you loved Babs.”
“Babs? Babs is in Vermont. I told you that already. You believed me, right?” Hal’s eyes were wide, and his arm tightened around Emma’s throat. She started to make noises that didn’t sound good. I lowered my voice, and spoke gently.
“Hal, I found Mimi Cunningham tonight.”
“You found Mimi Cunningham?” He loosened his grip a bit. “Where was she? I’ve been looking everywhere for her.”
“You should have asked Jerry,” I said. “She was hiding out on their boat. You know it’s up in Boston again, right?” Hal shook his head. “It’s in a slip in Charlestown. Nice boat, but Mimi seemed a little stir-crazy. She was surprised to see me.”
“Jerry said he was leaving tonight but I didn’t think he’d be leaving by sea. Bastard.”
“She and Jerry are down at the police station,” I said. “It’s unraveling, Hal. But people don’t think you did it, not yet. Let Emma go, don’t make it worse.” I took a step down. One more step to go and then I’d be on the same level as him.
“Make it worse? How could it be worse?” Hal said. “If only Babs hadn’t pushed it that night. If only she had trusted me, like I asked her to. But no, she wanted to reopen the case of Martin’s disappearance. That would’ve ruined everything—”
“Hal, let go of Emma—”
“She was going to leave me, you know that, Sully? Of course you do, everyone does. But you know what she told me that night? She told me that she and Martin had been having an affair, for years. That it was him she really loved. Him.”
“You had no idea?” I took the final step down, careful to keep my face in a neutral, sympathetic pose. I didn’t look at Emma. I kept eye contact with Hal. I sensed a growing desperation in him.
“None. Not until that night. You have to believe me, I never meant—”
“I know you didn’t. Hal, let Emma go. Come on, you can do it.”
“Gus put it together, of course,” Hal said. “Damn him and his double-checking on every little detail. The investigator in him just couldn’t let it go. He made a couple of phone calls and learned about the identification Jerry did and how it wasn’t up to procedure. He already mistrusted the Cunninghams, and so he started to put it all together. He called me and told me he thought Mimi was alive. I played along, suggested we take a trip down the Cape, since surely she was there? I picked him up, kept him talking so he didn’t have a chance to text you, Sully. We got to the Cape in no time.” Hal was looking right at me, and I forced myself to hold his gaze. “The Cunninghams had already made everyone believe it was Mimi, to buy us more time to dig out of this hole. They had no idea I—they’d never believe Hal, good old Hal, could have killed Babs. I went along with Jerry’s plan. It was a good one. We could have done it too. I thought we had a chance, especially once I got Gus out of the picture. But then Kate got greedy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kate was more than happy to take money from every pot available. She was part of it from the beginning. All of it. I don’t feel bad about Kate. I should, but I don’t. She was a terrible person.”
“What did she do?” I asked. I noticed when Hal kept talking he loosened his grip. Until I got close enough to tackle him, I needed to keep him talking.
“She actually tried to blackmail me. Can you believe it?”
“She knew what you’d done to Babs?” I asked. I thought better of my question right away, hoping it wouldn’t push a button, but Hal was too far gone for that.
“No, she had no idea about Babs. She knew about the money, the laundering. She threatened to tell Gus unless we met her terms. Of course, it ends up that if you look at some of the accounts, she was scraping a little bit off the top the whole time. Bitch. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but really, what did she think would happen? She called me because she thought I was the safe choice, that Jerry was dangerous. Little did she know. I had nothing to lose, not anymore.” Hal leaned up against the wall beside the front door. He loosened his grip on Emma but not enough for her to fight him off. Having him leaning made it tougher to topple him over. Emma was still struggling for breath, but Hal was oblivious to her.
“I called Jerry about the files, told him I’d go to the authorities unless he stayed in town and helped me clean things up,” Hal continued. “Jerry called me a loose cannon earlier today. Damn right I’m a loose cannon. They needed to help me get away. But then they deleted all the files. That’s why I came over here, to get proof. To get something that would keep Jerry Cunningham off my back, make him help me get away. I need to get away.”
I heard the voices of Stewart and Harry out on the stoop. They were laughing and sounded a bit drunk. Hal looked over his shoulder at the front door and stepped forward while they were fumbling with the lock. The door swung open hard, catching Hal on the shoulder. He pushed Emma away. I rushed forward and caught her before she fell.
“Don’t let him go,” I said to the boys as Hal try to rush out the door in between them. They both stepped in to block him and pushed him backward. He fell back against the staircase. I heard the breath knock out of him as he slumped down. He was still awake but wasn’t moving. Yet.
“Harry, go upstairs. Eric’s hurt. Stewart, call 911. Tell them to call Toni Vestri. And whatever you do, don’t let Hal leave. He’s murdered two people and just tried to kill Emma.”
The police were at the townhouse until four o’clock in the morning, asking questions and taking prints. Harry went to the hospital with Eric, who was released around the same time the police left. Toni told me she’d be in touch and let us know when our statements were ready to be signed. For now, Hal was talking. A lot. At one point I reminded him to call a lawyer. I didn’t want the case to fall apart on a technicality.
I went into bed shortly after the police left. I was surprised that I fell asleep right away. And slept straight through. When I woke up at nine I put on a sweatshirt and walked out into the kitchen area. Everyone, including Max, was gone. There was a note on the table instructing me to go upstairs to Emma’s apartment. I went up the back stairs and let myself in. Max was happily sitting on Eric’s lap. Eric was leaning back and looked very pale.
“How you doing?” I asked. I leaned over and gave him a kiss on his temple. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I am resting. I have a wicked headache, but coffee will help that. As long as Harry makes it, not Emma.”
“That’s enough out of you,” Emma said. “I’m trying to host a brunch here. I tried with the coffee, I really did.”
“Making good coffee is a skill Harry excels at,” I said. I sniffed the air but only smelled coffee. “Did you say something about brunch?”
“On its way,” Emma replied. “I ordered locks, bagels, blintzes, pastries, and a bunch of other stuff from a deli over in Kendall Square. Should be here any minute. Stewart drove your car over to get it—”
“My car isn’t in the garage—”
“You told us where it was last night, don’t you remember?”
“No, I don’t remember much.”
“Well, Harry’s making fresh coffee. I’m going to sit.”
She took a seat at the table. I sat down next to Eric on the bench and patted my lap. Max gave me a look and closed his eyes again. “I could never make coffee as well as Gus could,” I said. “I sometimes wish I’d made him show me how before I signed the divorce papers. Speaking of which—”
“He’s fine,” Emma said. “I called the hospital and checked on him a few minutes ago. Sully, you want some of my bad coffee or to wait for Harry’s good coffee?”
“I’ll start with the bad. Caffeine is caffeine. Have you all been up for a long time?”
“About a half hour or so,” Emma said. “I texted Harry and told him to come up here for breakfast. Your place is kind of a mess. You think the police will need to come back again?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll call Toni later to double check. Emma how are you feeling? I wish you’d gone to the doctors last night.”
“Just bruised, I feel fine.” Her voice sounded a little raspy, and there were some bruises around her throat. But I understood her wanting to stay close to her little brother, especially after all they’ve been through these last few months.
“So, Eric, what happened last night? You up to talking about it?” I said.
“Sure. I spent the day looking at the numbers, texting back and forth with Emma, making copies of things, answering Toni’s questions when she emailed them. It was close to midnight and someone knocked on the front door. I assumed it was Stewart or Dimitri, maybe they’d forgotten their key. Harry had already texted me that he was going out for a drink. Asked me if I wanted to come, but I’d said no. Anyway, Hal was at the front door. He started telling me about needing a backup sent to him. He wasn’t making much sense. I told him I needed to text Toni, make sure that was okay. My phone was back up in the apartment, so Hal followed me upstairs. The next I knew, Harry was leaning over me.”
“Finding you like that scared me to death,” I said, patting his knee. “I was so relieved when you moved.”
“I’m fine. It’s only a bump on the head.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” I said. “Gus wasn’t so lucky.”
Eric reached over and squeezed my hand. He held on, and I was grateful for the comfort.
“So, Sully, spill,” Emma said. “Start with finding Mimi Cunningham—”
“Oh no, no, no,” Eric said. “Start with finding Gus—�
��
“You’re both wrong,” Harry said, bringing in a fresh pot of coffee. He topped mine off and the aroma hit my nostrils. Heaven. “You’ve got to start from this whole money thing that Eric’s been trying to explain to me. Last I remember, we sent you and Emma down to the Cape on a quick trip to pick up sailcloth. Next thing we know, you’ve solved two murders, prevented another one, and broke open a con game the likes of which we haven’t seen around here for a long time.”
“You may as well make another pot of coffee, Harry,” I said. “This is going to be a long story.”
• Twenty- Two •
It was really all right?” Dimitri asked for the fourth time.
It was opening night of Romeo and Juliet and we were slowly making our way out of the theater. Dimitri had stopped in the aisle and was waiting intently for my answer.
“Dimitri, it was more than all right. It was terrific. I mean it. Even if I didn’t know all you’d gone through to get here, I would have been impressed. But considering what you had to deal with? Amazing.”
“Not as good as our Romeo and Juliet at the Cliffside?” he asked. We moved toward the lobby, where the opening night party was being held.
I hesitated before answering, but then decided the truth needed to win out on this one. “No, not as good. But honestly? I don’t think I’ll ever see a Romeo and Juliet as good as that one. That was something. But this one was great. You gave it a different lens, different perspective. You didn’t do your Romeo and Juliet again—you rediscovered it in a new way.”
“It is quite a company. It was an honor to work with these actors. Bringing Stewart Tracy in was a stroke of genius, of course. Harry’s a wonderful Romeo. Cassandra did brilliant things with the costumes, and the set was saved. I think what really brought it together, though, was the tragedy of Babs’s death. Everyone knew this was part of her legacy, the last show she worked on.”
I looked over at Holly Samuel. She was wearing all black, less for dramatic effect and more because she was in deep mourning. She was so young, and had borne so much tragedy already. But she seemed to be holding up. The board was planning on keeping her in place, and had her on the search committee for the new managing director of the theater. They had offered me the job, and I told them I would think about it. But I never even considered taking it. I didn’t want to move back to Boston. Trevorton was my home.
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