When Fortune Knocks

by J A Whiting

  “Do you remember what time it was when you and Harry parted ways?” Ian asked.

  “It was just before 10:30pm.”

  Ian asked another question. “Did Harry ever mention if he had access to a gun?”

  Linda’s breath seemed to catch in her throat. “He liked to skeet shoot and he went to a firing range sometimes.”

  “Does he own a gun?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Did he mention a relative or a friend who owned guns?”

  Linda started to shake her head, but stopped and looked directly at Ian. “I remember once he told me his grandfather had guns, that he was a good marksman.”

  “Do you know where his grandfather lives?”

  “In Sudbury.”

  “I’m glad you got in touch with me,” Ian said. “It’s helpful information. We’ll talk to Harry again.”

  Linda’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell Harry I called you. Don’t let him know we talked.”

  Claire leaned slightly forward. “Are you afraid of Harry?”

  “No, of course not.” Linda squeezed her hands together. “He just didn’t seem like himself that night.”

  21

  Ian and Claire met with Dr. Martin Gray for a second time in his Boston office.

  Ian thanked the doctor for seeing them again.

  “What can I help you with?” Martin asked after they had taken seats.

  “We’d like to talk with you again about the trip to New Hampshire you took with Jenny Harrington,” Ian informed him.

  “Is the trip relevant in some way to your investigation?”

  “There are many threads with pieces that seem unrelated, but which may have some connection,” Ian said cryptically. “Could you tell us again where you stayed and what you did on the days you were in Portsmouth.”

  Martin gave Ian the name of the hotel. “I’m not sure I’m remembering exactly when we went to the places we visited, but it’s generally correct. We definitely visited those places. It’s just the days and times I’m not reliably recalling as I had business meetings interspersed with the sightseeing. Does that matter?”

  “I don’t think it matters. Not right now anyway.”

  “I can always look back at my calendar to give you a better idea where we were and when,” Martin offered.

  “Do you remember where you were on the evening Grace was killed between the hours of 9pm and midnight?”

  “I had a business meeting late in the day. We met around 7pm. The other doctor I’m working with had patients all day and that was the earliest we could meet. After the meeting, we went out for a late dinner and drinks. I didn’t get back to the hotel until around 1am.”

  “What’s the name of the doctor you met with?” Ian asked.

  “Our partnership is still being negotiated,” Martin said. “I’d appreciate it if our names aren’t linked yet. It could jeopardize the business venture.”

  “There’s no reason the doctor’s name would be made public.”

  “His name is Dr. Everett Burns, also a dentist. He has a practice in Brookline.”

  “Was Jenny in your hotel room when you went back after having dinner with Dr. Burns?” Claire asked.

  “Yes, she was.”

  “What did Jenny do while you were busy that evening?”

  Martin had a blank look on his face. “I don’t know for certain. She didn’t tell me. I assume some shopping, dinner, and perhaps a movie? She was in bed when I returned to the hotel and we got up very early the next morning to return to Boston in time to get to work.”

  Claire thought it odd that Martin didn’t ask Jenny what she’d done that night. “Might Jenny have returned to Boston while you were in the meeting?”

  Martin shook his head. “Why would she do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she had something important to do while you were busy,” Claire suggested. “You were out with the others for a number of hours. Jenny could easily have gone back to the city. It’s not that far to drive.”

  “She didn’t have her car with her.”

  “Did she borrow yours?”

  Martin’s face looked shocked. “No. I don’t allow anyone to drive my car.”

  Ian asked, “Were you and Dr. Burns the only ones in the meeting?”

  “There were two investors with us. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to divulge their names at this time.”

  “I understand. There’s no need,” Ian told him. “Were you in touch with Jenny during the evening?”

  Martin shook his head. “I wasn’t. I had to give my undivided attention to my future business partners.”

  Ian nodded and then changed the subject. “I’m sorry I haven’t taken you up on your offer to show me your gun collections. I’d like to see them some day.”

  Martin brightened. “I’d enjoy showing them to you. Come out to my place whenever it suits your schedule. Give me a ring and we can arrange the visit.” He turned his eyes to Claire with a hopeful smile. “Would you like to join us when the detective comes out?”

  “I don’t think so, but I appreciate the offer.” Claire hoped the wording of her sentence didn’t encourage Martin to ask her to do anything else.

  “If guns don’t interest you, I think you’d enjoy seeing the gardens on my property. They’re really magnificent.”

  Claire said, “I’ll see if I can make it when Detective Fuller makes plans with you.” She planned to be busy whenever Ian made the visit to see the guns. She knew full well that Ian’s interest only pertained to the investigation and the purpose was to find out if Martin owned a gun that might be related to the one used to shoot through Grace’s wall. Claire and Ian wondered if Jenny might have accessed Martin’s collection one day when she was at his Weston home and used it to kill Grace.

  Ian asked, “Have you seen Jenny lately?”

  Martin leaned back and rested his arms on the sides of the chair. “Why do you ask?”

  “We wondered how she was holding up. It’s very difficult to lose a dear friend.”

  “Oh. Yes. I’ve only seen her once since we got back from New Hampshire. I’ve been very busy, what with my practice here and the business deal, I haven’t had time to socialize.”

  Claire bristled. Martin was too busy to try to comfort Jenny from the loss of a friend because the man was so self-centered he couldn’t consider someone else’s needs before his own. She couldn’t believe Jenny was attracted to Martin.

  Yes, he was handsome, he had an excellent career, he was educated, he seemed well-off, but his self-interest and self-absorption were far too much to handle and would interfere with his ability to give of himself in a relationship. Everything seemed to be one way with Martin. Everything was about him.

  “How was Jenny when you saw her?” Claire asked. “Did she talk about Grace? Did she talk about how she was feeling?”

  “Jenny didn’t talk about Grace. She talked about projects at work, how much there was to get done, and that the bosses were demanding a lot from them. She was very stressed. She didn’t look good, she looked unhealthy. Jenny is searching for a new apartment. She doesn’t want to stay where she is. I don’t blame her for that.”

  “Has she found a place she liked?” Claire asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  A knock came on Martin’s office door. “Your next patient is here, Doctor.”

  Ian and Claire stood and thanked Martin for his time.

  “Get in touch when you’re free to visit,” Martin told Ian before turning to Claire. “And please come, too. It would make me very happy.”

  Claire, Nicole, and Robby sat around one of the tables in the chocolate shop. They’d finished the baking for the next day and were having coffee together. The young women were showing him the mock-up of the cookbook they’d put together.

  “It’s really fabulous.” Robby turned the pages. “But there’s something missing.”

  “What’s that,” Nicole asked.

  “My original recipe
s. I don’t think you’ll be bestsellers without my stuff,” he kidded.

  “Funny you should bring that up,” Claire said and glanced at Nicole.

  Robby gave her a look, expecting some joking comment.

  “We’ve been thinking…” Nicole began.

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Robby teased.

  “I’m being serious,” Nicole said. “If you don’t want to hear our offer, we’ll forget about it.”

  Robby’s eyes narrowed. “What offer? Do you want to pay me for my recipes?”

  Claire said, “You and your baking skills were a big part of the three of us winning the grand prize at the food festival. That was the start of all the attention the shop has been getting.”

  Robby tilted his head trying to understand where this was going.

  “Nicole and I are the shop owners and that’s why we were approached about the cookbooks.”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, Nicole and I think you should be included as an author of the cookbooks. So yes, we’d like to include your recipes, but we want you to be the third member of the writing team.”

  Robby’s jaw dropped. “Me? You want me to contribute to writing the cookbooks?”

  “We’d like to make you a partner in the entertainment part of the business,” Claire explained. “The cookbooks, and if we’re ever offered a television show, we’d like you to be part of it all as an equal partner. Your personality would be such a huge hit with the audience.”

  “What? Me?” Robby blinked at them.

  Nicole and Claire laughed heartily.

  “We want you as the third partner,” Nicole told the young man. “We’ve had a contract drawn up. You can take it home and look it over.”

  “Is this a joke?” Robby looked at them warily.

  Nicole and Claire stood up and gave Robby hugs.

  “We know vocal performance is what you love and what you want to do,” Claire said. “You can cancel the contract anytime you want to. You’re not bound to us for any length of time.”

  “I don’t need to look at the contract,” Robby said as he brushed at his eyes. “I trust you. I’d love to join you both as a partner.”

  “We’ll tell the acquisitions editor,” Nicole said with a grin.

  Robby looked fearful. “What if the editor nixes the idea?”

  “Then we’ll take our project to someone else,” Claire said. “Or we’ll publish our books ourselves. It’s the three of us or nothing.”

  “Why? Why are you doing this? You don’t need me.”

  Claire and Nicole shared a look.

  “We decided we do need you,” Claire said. “You’re smart and fun and have a winning personality. You’ve been a big part of what we do here. We all work well together. We share ideas … and if you weren’t with us in this, something would be missing.”

  Robby was too choked up to reply.

  With a big smile, Claire looked over at Nicole. “Wow, this is amazing. For the first time ever, Robby is speechless.”

  22

  Claire and Ian made the drive from Boston to Sudbury in less than an hour. The town was about twenty-two miles from the city, was incorporated in 1639, and retained a rural flavor. It was home to the Wayside Inn, an historic landmark claiming to be the country’s oldest operating inn, and in 1775, the militia of the town took part in the Battle of Lexington and Concord.

  “I love this town.” Claire looked out the window at the beautifully-maintained Colonial homes. “There’s so much history here.”

  “We should have dinner at the Wayside Inn some night.” Ian drove the car along a winding, country road lined with tall, mature trees on the way to visit Harry Parker’s grandfather.

  “I think this is it,” Claire said craning her neck to see the number on the granite post at the end of a long driveway.

  Ian turned in and followed the drive to a large white Colonial house with a detached two-car garage on the right. He pulled to a stop and parked. A mixed breed dog sat beside the front door tapping his tail. When Claire and Ian emerged from the car, the dog gave one friendly bark and wandered over to greet them.

  An older man came outside. Dressed in jeans and a buttoned down shirt, he was of average height, slender, and had white hair and a white mustache.

  “Hello there. I’m Derek Parker.” In his early eighties, the man had a strong grip and pumped Ian’s hand before turning to Claire and doing the same. “Nice of you to come out. My wife and I have lived here for fifty years. Started out with forty acres, but slowly sold off some of the land as the town grew and property became more valuable. We own ten acres now. Plenty of room to do what we want, but we aren’t loaded down with the heavy tax burden.” Derek looked from Ian to Claire. “Can I show you around?”

  Ian smiled. “We’d like that.”

  “It’s a gorgeous piece of land,” Claire told the man as he led them past the garages to the large red barn.

  “We keep some farm machinery in here. My wife kept some horses here years ago, but now she’s afraid she might fall off. We plant vegetables on about three acres. Gives me something to do.” Derek smiled broadly. Standing on a bluff, he pointed out a small lake, trails, and green rolling hills. “Over there we have some fruit trees. My wife makes jam. We have a few goats that enjoy wandering around. The place keeps me busy.” He patted his flat stomach. “Keeps me in shape, too.”

  “I can imagine.” Ian asked some questions about the farm and enjoyed taking a look at some of the equipment in the barn.

  “So you want to talk about guns?” Derek asked. “I have a study on the second floor. We can go up and have a seat.”

  The older man led the way up a staircase to the left of the barn’s big doors and into a cathedral-ceilinged living space with the walls and ceilings lined with glossy wood. There were clusters of sofas and chairs, a pool table, built-in bookshelves full of books, colorful rugs, a desk, and a stone fireplace. A wet bar stood on one wall and there was a small refrigerator, wine cooler, and dishwasher. A microwave stood on the granite counter.

  “Wow.” Ian turned in a circle to take in the fine room.

  “I like to come up here to do my paperwork. It gets me out of my wife’s hair. And it’s a nice spot to entertain a few friends.” Derek poured drinks and invited Ian and Claire to have a seat on the sofas in front of the fireplace. Two cats had been snoozing on the chairs at the far side of the room and they jumped down and padded over to investigate the newcomers.

  “When I spoke to you on the phone,” Ian said, “you said you had some rifles and some guns.”

  “Indeed, I do. The gun case is over on that wall next to the books. I keep it locked all the time. Would you like to see them?”

  Derek opened the cases with a key and removed some of the weapons. “I’ve got a couple of antiques.” The man explained where he’d purchased the guns as he showed Ian the items in the case.

  Ian looked at the guns and noticed a 9mm handgun. A 9mm was used to shoot into Grace’s bedroom.

  Derek said, “I have a shooting range out back with targets set up. My sons and grandkids do some target shooting together, some skeet shooting, too. I don’t hunt anymore. I lost my taste for it, but I do enjoy the target shooting. Keeps my eyes sharp.” Derek lost his jovial expression as if he’d just remembered why Claire and Ian had come. “A terrible shame about the young woman. Grace was a nice girl. She’d been out here many times. What’s wrong with the world?” he asked no one in particular.

  “Have you seen Harry since Grace died?” Claire asked.

  “Just once. I’m sure he’s broken up about it, but he didn’t say much. My wife and I sent him a card of condolence right after it happened. I know they’d parted ways, but Harry had been together with Grace for a number of years. We thought they might marry.” Derek shrugged a shoulder. “People change, circumstances change. The world is different now.”

  “Harry is comfortable around guns?” Ian asked.

  “Oh, sure,
he is. He’s a crack shot, too. I taught him since he was eleven years old. Harry was mature for his age so I felt he could be responsible with the guns. He often wins the contests we have shooting skeet.” Derek looked from Claire to Ian. “You ever done it?”

  “A couple of times,” Ian said.

  “I haven’t, no,” Claire told the man.

  “Well, come out sometime with Harry and give it a go,” Derek encouraged.

  They returned to the sofas.

  “Does Harry have access to the gun case?” Ian asked.

  “Yes, he does. He knows where the key is. Any of my relatives are free to use the guns and the shooting range whenever they want to. They know the code to the door downstairs so they can come here anytime they want to.”

  “When did you see Harry last?” Ian questioned.

  “Let’s see. About a week ago? Maybe not that long ago. He came by for dinner. We had a nice time.”

  “Does Harry visit often?” Claire asked the man.

  “At least a couple of times a month.” Derek gave a nod and a wink. “He’s a good boy. Don’t tell any of my other grandkids, but Harry is one of my favorites.” The man took a swallow of his iced tea. “When we spoke on the phone, you told me you’re investigating Grace’s death and wanted to speak with me about the guns. What can I tell you? Why do you have any interest in my guns?”

  Ian said, “The investigation into Grace’s death calls for us to speak with any of the victim’s friends and associates who may have had access to weapons. Since Harry had been in a relationship with Grace, we need to speak with you as well.”

  Derek nodded. “I see.”

  “No one is under suspicion,” Ian clarified. “It’s simply protocol to talk with gun owners who may have had a connection to Grace.”