Death on Windmill Way

by Carrie Doyle

  “Look at the cute little Yoda with them,” said Liz, pointing to the corner of the picture.

  “I didn’t even notice him!” said Antonia. “That’s their son, Matt. Wow, he looks so little there. He just celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday at the restaurant.”

  “Right, I remember there were a few children there,” said Joan. “It was difficult for most people to find a babysitter that night. We were lucky, our nanny, Sita, came with us from the city. She watched the kids.”

  Antonia turned the page and scanned the pictures. “Wait,” said Antonia. She pointed to a picture on the lower corner of the right page. “Is that Gordon Haslett?”

  “Who?” asked Joan.

  “The former owner of the inn?”

  “Yes, yes, it is. I didn’t remember his name, I’m sorry to say, but that’s him. He was the host that evening. A very exuberant man. That was actually a good thing for the occasion, he made it more festive. Almost made me forget that the end of the world was at hand.”

  Antonia carefully studied the photograph, which was close cropped so that it only featured the subjects from the waist up. Gordon was dressed as a gladiator. His helmet was open so you could see his face, and he wore printed armor over a red tunic. In one hand he held a sword and shield, and the other arm was draped over a woman in a mascot bunny costume. At least Antonia assumed it was a woman, judging from size and frame. She was about a foot shorter than Gordon, who Antonia knew had been over six feet, and the bunny was slight like a woman. But her face was totally hidden by her mask. On the other side of Gordon was Joan’s friend Sandy, with Joan next to her.

  “Who’s the bunny?” asked Antonia.

  Joan stared at the picture. “Good lord, I can’t remember. I must confess I had a lot of champagne that night. The next day was a total blur. But in my defense, I didn’t think there would be a next day. But here, keep flipping through and maybe the bunny ultimately took her mask off.”

  “Oh my gosh,” said Antonia when she turned the page. “There’s Larry Lipper.”

  “Who?” asked Liz.

  “He works at the Star. And of course he’s dressed as a cop. The guy covers the crime beat, fancies himself as a law enforcement adjunct. But I bet the real reason is he wants to carry a gun.”

  “He’s pretty short,” said Liz. “Or are the two mermaids next to him giants?”

  “No, he’s tiny.”

  Antonia squinted. Larry looked like a pig in you-know-what. His head was approximately the same height as the girls’ breasts and he wore a giant Cheshire cat grin on his face. Probably the closest he ever got to a woman, thought Antonia.

  On another page, there was a group shot with Naomi peeking out of the background. It was impossible to see her costume because someone dressed as a pirate was standing in front of her, but her distinctive black bob set her out against the crowd. She appeared younger, but still just as severe.

  Antonia turned the page and found more pictures of Gordon. It appeared he enjoyed mugging for the camera and wasn’t shy. There were pictures of him with other guests, more of him with Joan and Sandy, as well as pictures of him with a glass of champagne and a microphone, no doubt ushering in the New Year, Antonia assumed. Antonia continued casually flipping through the pages as Joan gave a running commentary about every detail she remembered about the night. She was half listening and half staring at the photos, leaving Liz to make interjections on her behalf. As Antonia flipped further along, she realized something: the bunny was in every picture that Gordon was in.

  “Sorry, do you mind if I go back a page or two? I went too quickly.” Antonia asked.

  “Of course,” said Joan.

  Antonia turned back the pages and once again studied the pictures of Gordon. Sure enough, even in the pictures where Gordon was in the forefront, the bunny was off on the side or in the corner, her body turned toward his. It was as if she didn’t want to lose sight of him. There was something creepy about the bunny stalking the gladiator, thought Antonia with a shudder. Was it Barbie? she wondered. She didn’t think so. First off, Barbie said that she had been with Gordon for five years, and this was over a decade ago. In addition, Barbie was tall and busty. That would come through even in a bunny suit. And Antonia was certain that Barbie would never wear what was basically a mascot outfit for a costume party. Barbie was the type who would shop in the “sexy” costume department. She’d show up as a “sexy witch” or “sexy vampire” or “sexy kitty,” and so on. That was a woman who loved her body and her looks; no way would she conceal herself.

  Was there a reason that the bunny was hiding in her costume? Antonia wondered. Because when Antonia reached the end of the album, there were still no pictures of the bunny without the top of her costume.

  “Was it hot at the party?” asked Antonia.

  “Hot?” repeated Joan.

  “Yes. There were so many people in there, and Gordon looks a bit sweaty in some of the later pictures. I was wondering if you could recall if it was hot in there.”

  Joan folded her hands on her lap. She shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I suppose it was. I just don’t remember. Sorry. The old brain is not what it used to be. My memory is mush.”

  “That’s okay, not important,” said Antonia.

  Liz eyed her carefully. “There’s that picture of the two girls dressed as mermaids in the front. They’re only wearing bikinis so probably it was fairly warm.”

  “Good point,” said Antonia.

  Antonia wanted to ask Joan if she could borrow one of the pictures but she decided against it. First off, she’d have to explain why and what would she say? That she was hoping to track down a possible murderer and the bunny might have a clue? Also, judging from the stacks of neatly arranged photo albums in the cabinet, it was evident that Joan took particular pride in her scrapbooking efforts and Antonia didn’t want to appall her by suggesting she take one apart. No, better not ask. Antonia and Liz remained at Joan’s for another ten minutes before taking their leave. Joan gave Antonia a warm handshake and said they’d be in touch with specifics shortly and Robert reemerged to bid them goodbye. Antonia felt good about the Mastersons. They were nice people. If the money were worthwhile (and it probably would be; her standards were low), then she would definitely work for them. And Liz seemed to like them, so that was a good recommendation. Antonia trusted her.

  “Were you wondering why the bunny didn’t take off her bunny head?” asked Liz, after they had finished all of their chitchat regarding the Mastersons.

  Antonia turned to her in astonishment. “How did you know?”

  Liz shrugged. “Just a guess. I thought it was weird too.”

  “Yes,” said Antonia. “It was weird.”

  24

  Antonia made a beeline to her office to make some phone calls. She could have done them from the privacy of her apartment as well, but she wanted to avoid it after yesterday’s intruder. It was silly and she’d have to figure out a way to get over it, but right now, she still felt violated. And she had to figure out what to do about it. Maybe a call to the locksmith should have been her first plan of attack. She added that to her list of things to do.

  She checked in with Joseph to see how he was doing. His son William answered his cell and said Joseph was sleeping and resting comfortably. The doctors had not found anything to cause alarm, and the MRI had come back clear, so he would be home tomorrow at the latest. Antonia breathed a sigh of relief at Joseph’s clean bill of health. It had been nagging at her all day and she was thrilled that he was okay. The phone call was an overall success, until the conclusion when William announced his news.

  “I think the only good news to come out of this is that dad agrees with me he can’t stay at the house anymore alone. It’s just too much,” said William. He had a deep baritone voice. Antonia knew he was a lawyer and could imagine that it worked well on his clients.

 
“I could get you the name of some home care workers to help him. In fact, Rosalie, our cleaner has a sister…”

  Before she could finish William interrupted her. “That’s very nice of you, but I think we’ve convinced Dad to move into the city.”

  “What?”

  “My brother and I are both there and actually the timing is perfect because there’s a studio apartment that’s come up for rent in our building. It’s great. My wife went to look at it. It’s on the fortieth floor and looks out at the river. We have all the amenities in our building, pool, gym, and concierge service. It’s brand new, so everything is in fantastic shape.”

  Antonia swallowed hard. It was wrong on so many levels. Take away the part that she would be devastated if Joseph moved in the first place, the concept of Joseph in a brand-new high-rise building in New York City was repugnant to her. She couldn’t imagine him in his bow tie and glasses zipping along the carpeted halls of a Trump Tower. All those soulless, cookie-cutter apartments that were interchangeable and lacked character were so not Joseph.

  “Oh? What does your dad think about this?” Antonia finally asked when she could speak again.

  She could sense William’s hesitation on the other end of the phone. “Well, it’s still new to him. But he understands the situation has to change. It’s just not safe for him to be alone anymore.”

  “Right,” said Antonia.

  “This wasn’t the first time he fell, you know.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No, just a few nights ago he was on his way out to dinner and took a spill. Fortunately, he was near the phone and we were able to send a friend over to help him.”

  Antonia remembered she had asked Joseph where he had been a few nights prior and he said he couldn’t make it. He didn’t have a reservation that time so she wasn’t worried, but he had become such a regular fixture that his absence was noticeable. She should have known then that he was in trouble.

  “Is there anything I can do?” asked Antonia.

  “You’ve been great so far. My family and I really appreciate your help.”

  “Please, anytime. I stand ready, willing, and able. I adore your father.”

  She hung up feeling anxious. There was something about Joseph moving to New York that upset the universe. Why do we have to get old? Antonia wondered. But then again, the alternative was worse.

  Since Antonia knew the next phone call would no doubt elicit the same sensation, she quickly dialed to get it over with. She waited as the phone rang, before it immediately went to Larry Lipper’s voicemail.

  “Hi Larry, it’s Antonia Bingham. I’d love to talk with you when you have a chance. You can call me back at the inn, or if you are in the neighborhood, pop by…”

  She let her voice trail off. Larry was so hard to take, but she wanted to find out more about that New Year’s Eve party. Since it seemed impossible for Larry to exist without hitting on women, he must have tried his luck with the bunny. Maybe he would be able to give Antonia an idea of who she was.

  Antonia returned a few more calls, and also arranged for the locksmith to come by that afternoon and change the locks to her apartment. She was about to return to the kitchen when Lucy knocked on her door. She held some papers pressed against her chest.

  “Hi,” said Antonia. “I thought you were off today.”

  Lucy smiled wanly. “I decided to come in and slog through some paperwork. Also, my office was a mess, so I had to tidy it up.”

  Antonia glanced around at her mess and swallowed. Lucy must be repelled by it. “Well, feel free to tidy up mine if you want…just kidding.”

  Lucy actually laughed, if you could call it that. It was absent any mirth. “I wouldn’t know where to start!”

  “I know, pretty grim.”

  “I mean, I’m sure you have your own system of organization.”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh,” said Lucy.

  “Have a seat. I was just about to crack open my mini fridge and indulge in some Cracker Barrel and Triscuits, any interest?”

  “No thanks,” said Lucy, declining the food, but taking the seat. As Antonia reached open the door of her fridge and removed the bright-orange cheese (not the most appetizing color), she noticed that Lucy was wearing her “day-off” outfit—one that Antonia had seen before. It consisted of a red-and-white-checked shirt (with a matching checked scarf that she wore around her ponytail) and crisp blue overalls. As was her norm, it had a retro fifties feeling to it, and Antonia felt at once that she was sitting with Maryanne from Gilligan’s Island. Antonia took a plastic knife out of her drawer and sliced off several thick wedges of the cheese. She took crackers out of the box that was perched on her window ledge and placed them on each one. She again offered Lucy one, but she recoiled.

  “I just saw all these pictures of the Millennium party that Gordon hosted at the inn,” said Antonia, popping a cracker in her mouth.

  “Where’d you find those?” asked Lucy with surprise. “In that box Naomi and Barbie were fighting over?”

  “No, these friends of Liz’s had them. It was interesting.”

  “In what sense?”

  “Well, you know. Seeing Gordon in action. Old pictures of the inn.”

  “Right.”

  “And looking at all the costumes. People went all out. There was this one…”

  Lucy cut her off. “I’m not a big fan of costume parties myself.”

  “Oh. I guess I know what you mean. They’re kind of a hassle.”

  “Agreed. I did dress up one Halloween as Jayne Mansfield. I like that old Hollywood glamour look.”

  “Jayne Mansfield?” asked Antonia, inadvertently glancing at Lucy’s chest. “No offense, but how’d you pull that off? She was known for her rather, well, large attributes.”

  “There is such a thing as a padded bra, Antonia!”

  “You’re right. I just can’t imagine you as Jayne Mansfield.”

  Lucy looked offended. Antonia immediately backtracked. “I mean, she was just sort of cheap. I think of you as a little more elegant. Maybe Lana Turner.”

  Lucy shrugged, probably still offended. “I wanted to make a statement. Anyway, the reason I came in was after you came in the other day and asked for the employee forms well, that’s when I noticed I needed to clean out my files ASAP.”

  Their brief banter had been broken and Lucy returned to being all business.

  “Yeah, I hate that,” said Antonia.

  “I went through everything, moved some boxes downstairs into the basement. But then I saw these and thought you might be interested.”

  She handed Antonia the papers. “What’s this?”

  “It’s the corporate credit card statements from when Gordon owned the inn. It’s from the last two years only, because my system is to shred everything after two years of safekeeping. I thought it might be of interest to you.”

  Antonia glanced at the MasterCard spreadsheet. A quick scan revealed charges to True Value Hardware, Warren’s Nursery, King Kullen, and Riverhead Lumber. There were various other costs mixed in as well, but those were the ones that appeared regularly. “Thanks, Lucy. Were there any red flags that stood out to you?”

  “Not when I originally did the payments. But look how many charges there are to Warren’s Nursery.”

  “Why is that strange? I feel like I spend most of my money on landscaping costs.”

  Lucy gave her a small smile. “But Warren’s wasn’t handling our landscaping. Hector did most of it. So these were not purchases for the inn.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Fairly sure. It’s something I should have caught earlier, but I’d only just become the bookkeeper and it was all new to me.”

  “Who had access to the corporate card?”

  “Gordon, of course, and Ronald Meter. He was the manager at the time
.”

  “And you think Ronald was buying something at Warren’s?”

  Lucy nodded. “Horticulture is his passion. As you know, Gordon fired him when he suspected him of siphoning money. These credit card receipts could prove that.”

  Antonia’s mind raced. Of course she knew that there was a cloud of suspicion regarding Ronald’s dismissal, but would he have been so stupid as to blatantly charge things to the corporate card? “Wouldn’t Gordon have been hip to these expenses? I can’t imagine they would go unnoticed.”

  “You would think so, but the bulk of the charges are from January to May. That’s when Gordon was in one of his dark moods, not really focused on anything. I think it’s possible they could have passed him by.”

  Something didn’t seem right to Antonia. It all felt very sloppy and unbelievable that Ronald would do something like that. There must be an explanation.

  As if reading her skepticism, Lucy stood up. “Anyway, just thought you might like to see them. Not sure if they can help you at all.”

  “Thanks,” said Antonia, who was already scanning the pages. Lucy stood up to make her exit.

  “No problem.”

  Antonia studied the row of charges. The fees to the nursery were substantial. “So it was just Ronald and Gordon who had these cards?”

  Lucy paused on her way out. “Yes. Gordon and Ronald…and, of course, Barbie.”

  Antonia looked up. “Barbie?”

  “Well, yes, she was Gordon’s girlfriend. She had access to that as well,” said Lucy in a tone that conveyed her perception that the question was inane.

  “Interesting,” said Antonia.

  When Lucy had left, Antonia went through the expenses line by line. She almost missed it. On the last page, there was a charge on November 29 to South Fork Farm for twenty dollars. That was the honey farm where Soyla worked. And where they had the beehives. It was worth taking a visit.

  25

  Although it was the last thing that Antonia should be doing on a Friday night when she was needed in the kitchen to start dinner service, Antonia decided to take a ride out to the farm stand. She promised herself it would be a quick trip; it would just be half an hour of her time and then she’d be back in her apron, grilling entrees. The farm was located on Town Lane, a long road in Amagansett that ran parallel to Route 27 and cut through farmland into the woods, before running into Old Stone Highway which led to the bay. It still amazed Antonia how East Hampton had such a disparate number of neighborhoods that all felt worlds apart. One could live by the beach or by the woods, by farmland or in town. And every locale had its own rhythm and vibe, quite different from the others. Many neighborhoods that had once been unfashionable were now being cannibalized by weekend folk, due to the demand, and the fact that people were priced out of the traditional second home area—which would be “south of the highway.” Now, it was trendy to live in the un-trendy parts of town, like this.