by Gwen Moffat
‘Did he mention anyone else?’ Val asked delicately.
‘Bret Ryan. Hilton was intrigued by the proximity of Benefit to the cabin and the lines of approach down the escarpment. And, of course’ — Miss Pink was dismissive — ‘he wanted to know how close you and Clyde were to the hunting camp that day.’
‘He would.’ Val was dry. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘Nothing. I don’t know the area. All I did was show him where we found the stallion and your father’s body. He did want to know the state of the cabin when we went down for the blankets. Actually, it looked just the same, but it would if no one’s been there other than yourself.’
‘When was I there?’
‘Didn’t you go back to fetch Charlie’s saddle?’
‘Of course. I’d forgotten.’ There was a pause. ‘Did he say anything else?’
‘He did say Charlie had a visitor.’
Val gasped. Sophie said, ‘He was guessing, Val: fishing. He can’t know.’
The younger woman was rigid with hostility, glaring at Miss Pink. ‘She was never there. The phone call means nothing, she changed her mind. I’m telling you she had nothing —’
‘I never mentioned Jen or the phone call.’ Miss Pink was firm. ‘I gave them no information other than what I’ve told you — except I did say that when we were searching for Charlie, Bret had gone down that steep descent —’
‘Upstream of the landslip,’ Sophie supplied. ‘But Hilton found another way down. Tell her, Mel.’
‘There’s a break in the escarpment above the cabin. It’s timbered —’
‘I know it.’ Val was harsh. ‘Why was Hilton interested?’
‘They found horse tracks there.’ Miss Pink took the plunge. ‘It seems obvious that Hilton has his eye on Bret.’
Val was silent. Sophie said, ‘But not Jen? He didn’t mention her?’
‘Not a word.’
‘He does know they’re married?’
Miss Pink thought about that. ‘He did mention her,’ she amended. ‘He asked where she was on the search and when I said she wasn’t out — with us — that was when he asked about Bret. He must know they’re married and he’s considering Bret because his wife is now a rich woman. He talked about collusion, said it was the only way it could have been done — and then he said he was joking.’
‘Was he?’ Val was tense.
‘No. He wasn’t actually accusing anyone, rather he was looking for my reactions, but he wasn’t joking.’
‘You said Jen wasn’t on the search: “not with us”, you said. Did you see her somewhere?’
‘There was a rider on a buckskin who showed for a moment when we were down below. Why not ask Jen if it was her?’
‘I’ll do that. It would have been the natural thing to do. She was shy about meeting us but she couldn’t keep away. Charlie was her grandfather, after all. She’d have been keeping an eye on things: wanting to know what was happening. Maybe she was searching too, on top.’
‘That would be it.’ Miss Pink was equable. ‘Incidentally, why would Byer agree to guide the police and then back down?’
‘He couldn’t refuse if Hilton asked him face to face, but he’d make himself scarce when the time came. Maybe there was some reason he didn’t want to go near the cabin… Did they fingerprint it?’
‘No. Why should they?’
‘You said Hilton mentioned a visitor.’
‘You think it was Byer.’
Val licked her lips. ‘I wouldn’t know.’
Sophie and Miss Pink exchanged glances. Sophie said, ‘If your visit to the cabin was innocent, what does Byer have on you?’
‘One hell of a lot —’ Val’s voice climbed alarmingly, then stopped in mid-flight, her eyes frantic.
‘Charlie died over a mile from the cabin,’ Miss Pink reminded her. ‘But think back: where was Byer that day? Could he have gone up there?’
‘I sent him, when Charlie didn’t come home. He said he turned back at the landslide.’
‘That was Sunday and Charlie was probably dead by then. Suppose he’d mended the roof and decided to come home Saturday? Where was Byer that day?’
‘Clyde was in the mountains,’ Sophie said. ‘Byer would have to do chores at Glenaffric, then he’d have the rest of the day to himself.’
He would have had heaps of time to reach the cabin. Miss Pink began to see that his hold over Val could relate to some specific feature of the cabin. She hesitated, caught Val’s eye and knew that another question would be a bludgeon where what was needed was a fine probe. She said nothing.
*
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Sophie said. ‘And you’re wrong. I would have said so in front of Val but you can see she’s keeping up the pretence that Jen isn’t involved.’
Miss Pink was amazed. It was late, Val had left, Sophie had drunk a lot and was now being appallingly indiscreet — or trailing a red herring. ‘You’re saying Jen is involved?’
‘Of course not. But Hilton thinks so, making believe he’s focused on Bret when it’s obvious Jen’s millions are the motive. He maintains it was collusion. There’s your answer: Val’s fighting for Jen. Naturally. It’s her child’s life that’s threatened.’
‘The police are blinded by those millions. There isn’t a shred of evidence to suggest either Jen or Bret was near the cabin.’
‘Is that so?’ Sophie brightened. ‘Why didn’t you tell Val that?’
‘There was no need. When… if Hilton were to pull Bret in for questioning, then we might reconsider. What did you assume I was thinking — and where was I wrong?’
‘Oh, that! You figure Jen told Bret she was going to see Charlie at hunting camp and Bret wouldn’t let her. He went in her place.’
‘Actually I was thinking about Byer —’
‘What’s his motive?’ Quick as a flash.
‘So you’d considered him too.’ Miss Pink pondered the question. ‘Is it too far-fetched to speculate that he would kill Charlie in the expectation that he could blackmail a legatee — or legatees?’
‘But that’s exactly what he is doing!’
‘I think in Val’s case it’s opportunism. He seized his chance. What I’ve seen of the fellow, and the way people speak of him, suggests a petty criminal, a thief, opportunist — all of those, not a murderer, not one who can plan. That takes strength of character.’
‘You have someone in mind?’
‘I’m not trying to squeeze someone into the frame. I’m saying Byer doesn’t fit the role, unless there’s something we don’t know.’
‘What we don’t know is the hold he has over Val.’
Miss Pink went to bed grateful that Sophie was virtually stupefied by fatigue and bourbon. If she’d had her wits about her she would have realised that if you ruled out Byer for Charlie’s death — and Skinner? — the spotlight came back to the family. But Hilton had shown an interest in Skinner. It was her last thought as she drifted to sleep. And her first in the morning.
‘Tell me about Paul Skinner,’ she demanded, coming into the kitchen. ‘Skinner and Byer are friendly, if not friends, and Charlie said Skinner was a thief and responsible for the death of his second wife?’
Sophie handed her a mug of coffee the colour of molasses. ‘Skinner had an alibi,’ she said. ‘He was in Ballard when his wife was drinking in Irving. Or so it was said. He was never charged, you know. You figure he’d have what you call the strength of character for murder?’
‘With Charlie he has a motive.’
‘No. He has no claim on the family, no bond. Unlike Sam. Hilton might suggest Sam has a motive because he’s the father of an heiress.’
‘I wasn’t thinking in terms of money but hate: revenge for the slander that he murdered his wife and made Jen pregnant, was even her father. We considered a fight between Bret and Charlie, why not between Paul and Charlie? A fight, a shooting and the “accident” rigged with the stallion.’
‘Impossible. How could you hoist a corpse
on to Ali’s back? Remember how spooky he was. And then you have to twist Charlie’s foot in the stirrup so it wouldn’t come out and Ali would be standing still all this time, allowing you to do it? Come on, Mel!’
Miss Pink was unperturbed. ‘Suppose Byer and Skinner acted in collusion. Hilton never saw Ali before. The horse is as quiet as a lamb now, he remarked on it; I had the feeling he didn’t believe your insistence that Ali was wild before Charlie’s death.’
Sophie breathed hard. ‘It removes suspicion from the family.’
‘It brings two more people into the frame,’ Miss Pink corrected.
They soon learned how Hilton was thinking. They were sitting over French toast and Cooper’s Oxford when Clyde rang to say that Bret Ryan had been taken in for questioning.
13
Hilton worked out of Irving and that was where Bret had been taken. Jen was frantic and had called Val to ask about securing the services of the family’s lawyer. Val had dissuaded her, dismissing any suggestion that Bret could be in trouble. She did say she was going to Irving this morning and would have a word with the lawyer herself. Val had called Clyde to inform him of this latest development and he rang Sophie. It appeared that Val viewed the matter with more urgency than she’d intimated to her daughter because when Sophie phoned the homestead there was no answer. ‘Left for Irving already,’ she told Miss Pink. ‘Now what do we do? If they suspect Bret, they have to be thinking Jen’s in there with him. Collusion, Hilton told you. But it’s impossible. Bret’s a plain, simple guy and Jen would never —’ She shook her head, unable to finish it.
‘An accident,’ Miss Pink said, adding quickly, ‘at the worst.’
‘You suggested a quarrel. Maybe Charlie did shoot himself — during a fight.’ Sophie’s face lit up.
‘His rifle wasn’t discharged.’
‘A pistol then. He drew a pistol — they were quarrelling, Charlie threatened Bret, both of them shouting — Ali reared, Charlie was thrown and shot himself, and Ali bolted. There! It could have happened that way.’
It wasn’t a good moment to point out that no pistol had been found.
*
Glenaffric’s kitchen was full of bustle, two large women in overalls at the sinks, Edna setting down a tray of glasses — ‘How nice to see you again, Melinda. Did you come for a ride? Sorry about the mess; we’re going to buy a dishwasher. Isn’t that neat?’ A vacuum whined and growled in the passage.
‘Coffee?’ Sophie said meaningly.
They took it to Edna’s bedroom. She was full of chatter, raising the blinds, smoothing the bedspread. ‘The women have finished in here,’ she told Miss Pink. ‘Nancy — she’s the one doing the vacuuming — she’s persuaded me to take it easy; why, she wouldn’t let me make my bed. She did it. They’re very thoughtful.’
Miss Pink murmured agreement. Sophie said harshly, ‘We have to talk. Where’s Clyde?’
‘He’s down with your horses, dear. Didn’t you see him?’
‘We didn’t stop, and the herd’s up the back. Is that where Val is?’
‘No, she went to Irving. She asked Clyde to check on Ali and the others.’
‘For heaven’s sakes, Edna, couldn’t you stop her dashing off like that? How does it look to the police?’
Edna smiled sweetly. ‘She hasn’t gone to the police; she has to fetch some feed and she’s going to look in on Mr Seaborg.’ She turned to Miss Pink. ‘That’s our lawyer. There’s so much business to attend to at a time like this; not that anything’s settled as yet but my daughter is bothered about taxes and stuff. I don’t understand any —’
‘Edna!’ Sophie was beside herself. ‘She’s not seeing Seaborg about taxes, she’s consulting him about Bret.’
‘Bret?’ Edna looked surprised. ‘What does he have to do with Mr Seaborg? Nice manners,’ she resumed to Miss Pink. ‘He was here yesterday — Bret, I mean, not Mr Seaborg, although he was here too, of course, he came to read the will and stayed for champagne. I had the will right, Charlie hadn’t changed it. We brought the Veuve Clicquot up from the cellar, Sophie — oh, but you were here! Stupid of me. Nicely dressed, too, and he takes his hat off indoors.’ She nodded happily. ‘I’m pleased. Jen’s gotten herself a good man there.’
‘Bret’, Sophie said, ‘is being questioned as a suspect in Charlie’s death. Now did I get through to you?’
‘You always have to dramatise everything.’ Again that sweet smile and, turning back to Miss Pink: ‘Bret and Jen live at Benefit. That’s an old ghost town at the back of the canyon rim.’ She must have been told that Miss Pink had been at or near Benefit several times. ‘And that’s one of the trail-heads for our hunting camp,’ she went on. ‘Anyone going into the back country has to leave his rig at Benefit and ride from there. So the police need to ask Bret who passed that day, or maybe in the days before the accident, because they could have gone in and set up camp some place.’
‘Did Clyde tell you this?’ Sophie asked. ‘Or did you make it up yourself?’
‘She always treated me like the kid sister,’ Edna told Miss Pink. ‘She’s five years older than me. Actually, Byer told me.’
‘You’re getting worse.’ Sophie shook her head in despair. ‘Tell me, how do you feel in yourself?’
‘Free,’ Edna said, and looked pleased with the word. ‘The atmosphere’s less strained. Nancy was remarking on it: “You got no one to consider now except yourself,” she said. And Kay’s a good cook, I should let her fix me some fancy meals for a change. “What’s the use of having maids if you’re going to work yourself,” Nancy said. So kind, treating me like an invalid. I’ve told them to go home at noon, make a long weekend of it; they worked so hard yesterday: all the baking and then waiting on the company.’
‘So you’ll be alone over the weekend,’ Sophie said.
‘No. Clyde will be here, and Byer.’
‘Byer has weekends off. Clyde won’t be here at night. Come to my place for a few days.’
‘This is my home,’ Edna said with dignity. ‘It wouldn’t be right to abandon it so soon —’
‘I’m not suggesting —’
‘Homes are like people. They demand loyalty. I’ll come later, dear. Besides’ — her eyes shone — ‘the house belongs to Jen now; I’m a kind of custodian.’
*
‘It hasn’t penetrated,’ Sophie said. They had stopped on their way to the car to watch a leggy foal skip jerkily round its mother.
‘It could be shock. It’s less than a week since Charlie died — and violently at that. Violence always intensifies the shock of bereavement.’
‘I don’t see any signs of shock in her.’
‘That kind doesn’t show. It goes too deep.’
‘I hear what you’re saying but — hello, here’s Byer. So he’s working up here and Clyde’s down at the homestead. Everything’s at sixes and sevens today. Now what?’
Byer was approaching with deliberation. He nodded casually to Miss Pink. ‘Any news?’ he asked Sophie.
Miss Pink turned towards the brood mares, ostensibly excluding herself from the exchange.
‘News of what?’ Sophie asked, hedging.
‘Have they charged Ryan?’
‘With what? He’s helping the police just.’
‘He don’t have nothing to do with it.’
Miss Pink stiffened but they were too intent on each other to notice. After a long pause Sophie asked, ‘So who has?’
‘It weren’t Ryan. Nor Jen. Nor Val.’ He seemed to be enjoying himself.
Miss Pink turned. ‘It was Clyde,’ she said flatly.
‘No!’ He was startled at the intervention but behind the surprise she sensed something else. Fear? ‘It weren’t family at all,’ he blurted. ‘I know. Charlie talked to me.’
‘Of course he did — and he told you someone was gunning for him, right?’
Sophie was gaping, looking from her to Byer. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘It were some property developer —’ He stopped.
‘A land sal
e,’ Miss Pink stated. ‘It went wrong.’
He nodded eagerly. ‘Worth millions. The guy figured he had a raw deal. Lost everything — he were bankrupt. Said he was gonna get Charlie.’
‘He put out a contract on Charlie?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘Have you told the police this?’
He shuffled his feet. ‘I don’t want to get involved. I’ve been in trouble: just cars, no insurance and stuff. I keep my head down.’
‘It can’t be true,’ Sophie said as they drove towards the homestead. ‘Charlie’d never talk to him about an important land deal.’
‘No, but he might have spun him a tale about someone gunning for him. Alternatively, Byer could have fabricated the story to relieve the pressure on Bret — and, by association, on Jen.’
‘You’re saying Byer’s suffered a sea change towards the family, or it’s just that he doesn’t want to lose his job?’
‘Neither. It’s that he can’t employ blackmail if Bret or Jen, or both, are charged with homicide. He wants Bret off Hilton’s hook and back on his own. Byer’s out for Number One as usual.’
‘He wasn’t blackmailing Jen or Bret. It was Val.’
‘So it was.’ Miss Pink became thoughtful.
‘Will he go to the police about this so-called property deal?’
‘No, he’ll expect you to do that. He knows you’ll leap at any opportunity to keep Jen and Bret in the clear. Are you stopping at the homestead?’
‘You bet. I want to hear some sense after listening to my kid sister’s maunderings. “Homes demand loyalty” indeed!’
*
Clyde was cagey at first. They’d come on him leading Ali across the yard towards a saddled horse. ‘Val wants him taken to Glenaffric,’ he told them, eyeing Miss Pink warily.
Sophie frowned. ‘Why? He’s better off here. Why does Val want to be rid of him?’
‘She said she may be away some time.’
Sophie turned to Miss Pink in alarm. ‘She meant overnight?’ Miss Pink asked.
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He was tense.
‘She’s giving herself up!’ Sophie said wildly.
‘Heh! I didn’t say that! She meant —’ Again that cautious glance at the visitor. He turned back to his aunt and took a deep breath. ‘She never left me all the time we were clearing the trail,’ he stated. ‘Not once; no more’n five minutes, I mean.’ He looked from one to the other, defiant as a small boy.