The Ice Storm Murders

by Virginia Winters

"Should we tell the others?" asked David.

  "No, I don't think so. That would put you at risk, too," said Anne. "Can you get a message out, Thomas?"

  "Maybe."

  "Can you hide it?"

  "Hide what?"

  "The radio, before it's destroyed."

  Eloise sat by Hamish's bedside, listening to his calm breathing. He was definitely better, she thought. She'd ask Anne about cutting back on his puffers today. Although she had dosed him every hour, now she was giving him Ventolin every three hours. Multi-coloured children's clothing filled laundry baskets around her. Soon the children would run out of clean clothes. She hadn't packed enough for a long stay. Across the room, Olivia chose a bright red crayon.

  "What are you drawing today, Olivia," Eloise said.

  "A man."

  "What man?"

  "A tall man."

  Eloise chuckled. All men were tall to Olivia. She dug through the pockets of the children's clothes. From Hamish's toddler jeans, she fished out two Lego people and a tiny grey stone flecked with gold. In another pocket, she found a brass button. Now matter how hard she tried to keep things away from him that he might choke on, he still picked up stray objects. Olivia was different. Her pockets contained treasures she confiscated from some of the rooms she was allowed in, and some she wasn't. Her blue terrycloth housecoat gave up a stray lipstick(hers) and a sample bottle of scent. She unscrewed the cap. Vanessa's. Had she been in there again? No, the door was locked.

  Deeper in the pocket, she found a paper folded small. She smoothed it out on her knee.

  A marriage certificate. The simple document recorded the marriage of Vanessa Donlands and Mike Lawrence, ten years before. A prior marriage. Had they been divorced then? She must show this to Anne and Thomas. They could decide if David should know.

  "Olivia, viens ci."

  Olivia scampered over to Eloise and stood in the circle of her arm.

  "Where did you find this paper?"

  Olivia hung her head. "Spanking."

  "You know it was Vanessa's and she's gone so you won't get into any trouble if you tell me the truth. And no spanking, I promise."

  “It was in her box with all the pretty jewellery, underneath."

  "Why did you take it?"

  "Someone was coming."

  "Where did you go?"

  "Into the closet."

  "Did Vanessa find you?"

  "No. When the man left, she went to sleep, and I ran out of the room. She was covered with red paint, and I was scared she will blame me."

  "Would blame you. It's okay, but I want you to tell Anne. Can you do that?"

  "Oh, yes. I like her."

  "You go see if she is in the kitchen and say I want to see her. Okay?"

  Olivia raced from the playroom and down the stairs.

  Somewhere a door closed with a faint click.

  After Anne left, Carmel slept. Later, Trevor opened the drapes and called to Carmel. "It's time to wake up, Carmel."

  No response.

  He hurried to her bedside. Her eyes, sunken in her pallid face and surround by skin so dark it almost looked bruised, fluttered towards him and away.

  "Can you talk, sweetheart?"

  A moan was her only answer.

  "Should I call Anne?”

  "No, I hate her. She won't help me. She makes me eat."

  "You have to. They won't let you have a baby if you don't."

  "Where were you?"

  Her querulous voice accused him and tears rolled down her cheeks. He sat on the bed next to her and brushed the tears away. "Right here with you, sweetheart."

  "But I woke up and you weren't here."

  "You were dreaming, I think."

  "Yes, dreaming."

  Carmel drifted off the sleep, Trevor sat back in the chair and watched her breathe. Soon he would have her out of here, they would sue for Hamish, and she would get better.

  Olivia scampered down the stairs to the kitchen, but Anne wasn't there. A plate with chocolate-chip cookies sat on the counter. Anne would let her. She grabbed a cookie, stuffed it into her pocket and ran up stairs and along to Anne's room. She listened. Adults were talking. She wasn't supposed to interrupt but Eloise sent her. It would be okay. She knocked.

  "Come in."

  Anne and Thomas sat close together on the couch, like Vanessa and David did. Maybe they would try to get married too. She could ask— No, she wasn't supposed to ask people questions about themselves either. Too many things she wasn't supposed to do. Sometimes she forgot.

  "Olivia. What is it? Come sit with us."

  Anne held her arms out and Olivia climbed onto her lap.

  "Why have you come to visit us?" Thomas asked.

  Olivia snuggled into Anne's soft chest. "Eloise said I should come."

  "Why, dolly?" asked Anne.

  "Because I drew a picture and she wants you to see."

  "Okay. I'll come."

  "And I'll work on the radio," said Thomas.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  After Olivia left, Eloise settled back to mend one of Olivia's jeans. She started at a knock at the door to the nursery. Her heart pounded, and her voice trembled when she called out, "Who is it?"

  "David.

  Her heart gave its little jump, as it always did when he opened the door. Should she tell him? It had only been a few days since Vanessa died, but it felt as though a long year had passed.

  David reached into the crib and stroked Hamish's unruly hair. The child stirred but slept on, his slow, soft breathing free of wheeze."How is he?"

  "Much better. I think he will be able to get up this afternoon. He wants to escape the crib."

  Eloise brushed a hand across her face and turned to the window. A stray beam of sunshine, filtered through the pines, scattered itself across the snow like diamonds and crystals.

  "The rest of us want to leave the house, but he'd be happy to play on the floor, poor guy."

  "Yes," she said. "Hamish loves to play with his Lego and his trains."

  His eyes caught hers and something, something different passed between them. Eloise caught her breath before she spoke. "David, I―"

  "Eloise―"

  "You first," he said.

  "I'm sorry about Vanessa."

  Was that what she meant to say? No. She wanted to tell him she loved him and that Vanessa didn't and never would. But she never would say that to him, never.

  "Tragically, she died, but I think I was going to make a terrible mistake."

  A mistake. What did David mean, mistake?

  "Oui?"

  "Oui. I don't think I knew her. So much I overlooked. Her attitude towards the children. Her dislike of the simple life we lead here. The way she was with the dogs. And every time we disagreed, she sulked and withdrew her...affection until I apologized, even if she were at fault. And all that time, I missed seeing the person I was falling in love with."

  "And who?"

  His eyes, full of pain and longing, kept their lock on hers. "You must know. "

  "I only know how I feel. I love the children, and I loved you from the moment we met."

  He reached for her, but she turned away. "What if they say I killed her because I was jealous? I hated her for how she treated the children and for how she treated you."

  "You didn't kill her, and neither did I. Anne and Thomas will find out who did. What's important is that we love each other."

  She walked into his arms, and as they closed around her, she was home.

  Anne and Olivia met David in the hall on their way to the nursery.

  "We're going to Eloise," said Olivia.

  "Eloise has something to show me," said Anne.

  "Any idea what? She didn't mention anything when I was there."

  "Something Olivia drew, perhaps?"

  "A new drawing? I'll come back and see it later, shall I?"

  Olivia bounced up and down. "Yes, yes. Come now."

  She took David's hand and pulled him towards the nursery do
or.

  "Not now. I need to talk to Thomas. I'll be back later."

  Olivia stuck out her lip for a moment but then trotted down the hall, and Anne followed her inside the room. Eloise rocked Hamish on her knee, caressing the strawberry-blond hair that fell in tendrils across his forehead.

  "Does he have a fever?"

  "Non, non."

  Anne listened to his chest but heard nothing alarming. She sat opposite Eloise, noting her flushed face and bright eyes. "Are you ill," Anne said.

  "No, no. I'm so happy. David―"

  "Yes."

  "He―"

  "Yes."

  "He says I don't have to go and―"

  "It's the and that has you glowing, I imagine. You had something to show me."

  "Yes. Olivia, bring Anne what you found."

  Olivia hung her head and drew circles with her toe on the carpet. "She'll be mad."

  “No, she won't."

  "I won't be angry with you, Olivia," Anne said.

  Olivia raced to the dresser and carried the paper, grubby from its stay in Olivia's pocket, over to Anne.

  What was this? A small oblong of paper, the shape of a receipt, similar the one in her safety deposit box at home, proof of her marriage to Michael, lay in her hand. "She was married to Mike?"

  "So it would seem."

  "What sort of scam was she running and was Mike part of it? Were they planning to blackmail David?"

  "No, no. He hasn't said anything about that. Nothing like that. You can't think David killed them."

  "Others might, Eloise."

  Eloise's elegant fingers wiped tears from her eyes. "Find out who is doing this. It's not David. It's not."

  Olivia patted Eloise's shoulder and glared at Anne, her lower jaw thrust forward. What a striking resemblance to Cooper, Anne thought. A little fighter.

  "I will. Olivia, did you draw something today?"

  The little girl handed the picture to Anne.

  A body, outlined in black, its middle covered with red crayon, lay on a bed, one arm dangling over the side.

  "Who is this, Olivia?"

  "Vanessa."

  "When did you see her?"

  Olivia hung her head. "I'll get in trouble."

  "No, you won't. Were you in Vanessa's closet? Did you lose your little pony?"

  "Yes. Vanessa might spank me."

  Anne put her arms around Olivia. "No one will spank you now. What happened when you sneaked out of the closet?"

  "She was sleeping, and her dress was all covered with red paint, and she would say I did it. I opened the door and ran into the hall. A man was at the end of the hall."

  "Did he see you?"

  "No."

  "Do you know who it was?"

  "I don't remember."

  "Maybe, you will. Draw some more pictures today."

  "I will."

  She turned to Eloise. "Don't let her talk about this. We have to keep her out of danger."

  Eloise paled and her face crumpled. "He, whoever it was, wouldn't kill a child."

  "He might. Keep Olivia with you. I'm going to talk to Thomas."

  Downstairs, Thomas fiddled with the dials of the battered old radio in the front window. The speakers crackled with static as he sought a voice or the chattering of a telegraph key. When David spoke behind him, he startled and swung the dial.

  "Sorry, Tom. I hope you weren't closing in on something."

  "No. I'm trying to reach the OPP in Bancroft. I found their call letters and channel but so far, nothing."

  "Depends on the atmosphere?"

  "Yes, somewhat. At least I don't have to worry about enemy agents standing outside my door, waiting to burst in."

  "What are you talking about? What enemy agents?"

  Thomas twirled around in his chair, and David pulled one up.

  "In WW11, thousands of radio-equipped agents communicated with the allies from inside occupied Europe. They worked in the cities and the country, in networks or alone. The guys alone in the cities had no one to watch for the scanning vehicles in the streets nor had any way except their own tradecraft to prevent discovery. Their work was vital, but the Nazis captured many of them because they got sloppy, talked to a girlfriend, or broadcast from the same location at the same time instead of randomly. The solo ones in the country were dependent on the goodwill of the communities and their own skill. Some were embedded with the Underground. It was the amateur radio operators who alerted the people of France that the invasion was coming on June 6, 1944. The radio service in London broadcast a nineteenth-century poem by Verlain on June 1."

  He quoted the poem,

  "Les sanglots longs

  Des violons

  De l'automne.

  The verse signalled the resistance to be ready for further alerts, and that Operation Overlord would begin within two weeks. “

  He continued, “ On June 5, at 23:15 hours they broadcast the next three lines, a signal for the resistance to begin sabotage on the railway system.

  Blessent mon coeur

  D'une langueur

  Monotone.

  The invasion began before dawn on the 6th, a few hours later."

  "How do you know all this? Was ham radio a hobby when you were a kid?"

  "No," said Thomas. "I had some training in it for a job I did."

  The radio spoke behind him, asking for him to respond to the call letters for the OPP. But moments later, the signal disappeared.

  Beth sat by the dying embers of the fire, reading by the light of an oil lamp. The light from both flickered across the pages. In some ways, she enjoyed the solitude, the break from the frantic pace of their life in New York, the race to get to work, to shop, and to socialize. Her work for the city engrossed her, but recently she had trouble with a new boss who was empire-building, she thought, and saw her as a rival.

  Kevin loved his job, but between them, they made barely enough. He wanted to move out of the city, to somewhere they could have more room and perhaps even buy. But the commute? How awful it would be.

  Her mother wanted them to move to Toronto, and they could or at least, Kevin could. How hard would it be for her to get another job there? Not much scope for historians. Perhaps she could write? She wanted to expand her thesis into a book. Their condo in New York, though tiny, would sell for enough for them to buy something decent in Toronto, or maybe a suburban city.

  Kevin opened the door and sat opposite her.

  "Has something happened?"

  "I had a conversation with Thomas. He was probing for a motive."

  "For you or us?"

  Appalled, she reached a hand out to him across the narrow space that separated them.

  "Does your mother or Brad know that we are up against it financially?"

  "I don't think so. I didn't say anything."

  "But you haven't talked about vacations or new clothes? Maybe she got the idea?"

  "She would make it up as she went along, anyway."

  "I can't imagine that they would think we would try to adopt Hamish and Olivia to solve a financial issue. All we have to do is move out of New York."

  "While I sat here, I enjoyed the solitude and peace. I thought when we came that I would be stir-crazy in a day, but even with all the trouble, I love it here."

  "So do I."

  She crossed to him and snuggled on his lap. "Would you move back to Canada if we could get jobs?"

  "That's a thought. Let's talk about it when we're home and back in our normal life."

  "If we ever are. What if Mom or Brad―"

  "You can't think that."

  "She's obsessed, and he's broke."

  "A reason to adopt, to go to court, not to kill. No, Beth."

  She lay her head on his shoulder, he stroked her hair, and she relaxed into his arms. Safe with him, she thought. Always safe. "Did you find out when we might get out of here?"

  "They got the radio working and contacted someone in Thomas's home town. They're calling the OPP."

 
; "So, soon?"

  "Let's hope so."

  "I'm going down to help Anne in the kitchen."

  "I'll walk with you."

  Chapter Thirty

  Anne ran down the front stairs to the living room. The evening sun slanted through the bay window at one end, lighting up Thomas's dark hair and casting a shadow behind him across the Navaho carpet on the floor.

  David sat beside him, intent on Thomas's hand swinging the dial slowly to catch a voice or the tap of a telegraph key. Neither heard Anne as she walked across to them. Both whirled around when she spoke.

  Startled, she stepped back. "Thomas, we have to talk. David, I think Eloise wants you in the nursery. Olivia is upset.”

  David sprang from his chair and strode across to the stairs.

  "What's going on?" said Thomas.

  "Olivia was a witness to Vanessa's murder."

  Thomas frowned and his face echoed the worry she felt. “How is she a witness? Where was she?"

  "In the closet in Vanessa's room. She doesn't know what she saw. She drew a picture of the body but thought the blood was red paint and she would be blamed, so she said nothing. I haven't talked to her too much. I'm so afraid she's in danger now, too."

  "Would she say if she recognized David's voice?"

  "You think—"

  "No, but we have to consider it."

  "Eloise found a marriage certificate in Olivia's pocket."

  "Whose?"

  "Vanessa and Mike's."

  "What kind of scam were they running? And did David know?"

  Anne shook her head. She was sure David wasn't a killer, nor Eloise. But the motives were stacking up. "I don't think so. I wondered what Mike would do with the knowledge."

  "Like?"

  Anne paced to the window and watched the wisps of sunshine being swallowed by dark clouds. Not more snow. “Blackmail comes to mind."

  "Not a motive to kill Vanessa unless you think there are two killers here."

  Two killers. No.

  "No, I don't.

  "So that leaves Trevor or Brad or Kevin."

  "Motive for Kevin?"

  "None that I know. Not Hamish, anyway. They can have their own kids, and I don't think they need the money. Not enough to kill for."