Miss Miller fell silent. Brisbois watched her expectantly.
“They were doubles,” she said finally. “Do you think we actually interacted with Ned?”
“Mrs. Rudley did. The kid across the lake saw him.” He hesitated, looking sheepish. “I’m certain now the guy I talked to, the guy who checked out of here, was Ned.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Brisbois took out his cigarettes, placed the package on the table. “Garrett had been dead for a few hours before I stumbled onto him. We know he went into town that morning and bought a ticket to Montreal. He returned to the inn, went to his room. Shortly after I talked to him, he checked out.” He paused. “But, maybe he didn’t.”
“Tell me more.”
“My guess is that after he bought the ticket he stopped by The Gemini. He and Ned argued. Ned killed him. At that point, you’d think all Ned would want to do would be to hightail it out of town. But…” He prompted Miss Miller with a nod.
“He didn’t have the diamonds.”
Brisbois smiled. “Right. Now, Ned and Garrett had a number of matching outfits, including the fishing ensemble we’re all so familiar with. That was part of the scam. So they could be interchangeable when they needed to be. When Ned knew he was going to have to show up at the inn, he chose the outfit Garrett was wearing when he left. Right down to the grey silk tie and gold cufflinks.”
“Meticulous.”
“But he got one thing wrong.”
Miss Miller leaned forward.
“The gold tie clasp. Ned was wearing one; Garrett wasn’t. Because Aunt Pearl stole it.”
“Aunt Pearl?”
He waved her off. “She does these things. She called on him for breakfast. Garrett had set the tie clasp on the bureau while he selected a tie. She couldn’t resist it.” He shrugged. “Therefore, Miss Miller, I deduce the guy who walked out of here was Ned.”
“He was a better actor than his critics gave him credit for.”
“And perhaps an even better makeup artist. That moustache was a paste on.”
“We could have been hobnobbing with him quite regularly,” Simpson said. “Gives me the creeps.”
“I suppose that sort of ties things up,” Brisbois said. “Some things, we’ll never know. I don’t think Ned’s going to reveal anything he doesn’t have to.” He paused, glanced around the dining room. “I think I’d like to come back here. Maybe in the fall. Bring my wife for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“One other thing, Detective.”
“Yes, Miss Miller?”
“Where were the diamonds hidden?”
Brisbois shrugged. “There must be a hundred good hiding places around here. Maybe they were in the crawl space. Maybe in the floorboards. Rudley told me there was a rash of floor registers misplaced during Music Hall, including the one in your room, Simpson.”
“So,” Miss Miller said, “while one of the Thomas brothers was onstage as emcee, the other one was ransacking the inn, looking for the diamonds.”
“I think that’s an excellent deduction.”
“If he knew where the diamonds were hidden, why didn’t he just take them and run?”
“With the murder taking place, he probably thought he would attract attention with a precipitous exit,” Brisbois said. “And maybe he wasn’t able to collect them all at once.”
“Maybe some of them are still here.”
Brisbois stood up. “Don’t start that, Miss Miller. Those diamonds have caused a lot of trouble.”
“Just speculating.”
He picked up his cigarettes. “I still can’t believe what you did.”
“You know what they say about supporting your local police.”
He smiled. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch.” He paused. “Oh, one other thing. We found a packet of photographs on the boat. Pictures of everyone at the inn with names written on the back.”
“That’s how Ned recognized us.”
“Looks that way.” He saluted. “See you later.”
Margaret watched Brisbois drive away. “You have to admit, Rudley, in the end, Brisbois knew what he was doing.”
“He didn’t have a clue, Margaret. If it hadn’t been for Lloyd and Miss Miller, that man would have got away with it.”
“Not to mention Aunt Pearl.”
“In her own way.”
“Always.”
“Will she be staying the whole summer?”
“Of course. Perhaps longer. She’s talking about taking up skiing.”
“That should add spice to the winter season.”
Margaret sighed. “I hope so. The rest of the summer season is going to seem dull after what’s happened.”
“We’ll get back into our routine, Margaret.”
At that moment, Tiffany appeared. “Mr. Rudley.”
“Yes?”
“There’s a man at the front desk. He says he has a reservation.”
“I don’t remember anyone coming in this afternoon. Is the room ready?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Why are you not sure?”
“I don’t know which room he’s supposed to be in.”
“Didn’t you check the register?”
“Yes.”
He stared at her.
“He doesn’t know who he is, Mr. Rudley.”
“Perhaps the rest of the summer won’t be so boring after all.” Margaret took Rudley’s arm and steered him toward the lobby.
Acknowledgements
Many people have inspired and encouraged me over the years:
My parents, Allison and Madeleine. They were great oral storytellers.
My grandmother, Carrie Forsythe Alguire, who always had something going on in her parlour.
My grandmother, Sadie Wiltse Neddo, who always had her nose in a book.
My sister, Bev, my best critic.
My sister, Carrie, the artist.
My cousin, Jean Young, who showed me the wonder of the world. How many teenaged girls would wander the pastures, lifting rocks, so a five-year-old could pet a baby snake? (I stopped petting snakes when my sister Bev told me my mother cooked them up as liver. I wasn’t crazy about liver for a long time after that either.) My friend Rose DeShaw, a fine writer, unfailingly generous with her time and encouragement.
In closing, I would like to thank Karen Haughian, publisher of Signature Editions for taking on Pleasantly Dead, and my editor, Doug Whiteway, for his thorough yet gentle editing, and his tolerance of my computer foibles.
About the Author
Judith Alguire’s other novels include The Pumpkin Murders, the second in the Rudley mysteries, as well as All Out and Iced, both of which explored the complex relationships of sportswomen on and off the playing field. Her short stories, articles and essays have also appeared in such publications as The Malahat Review and Harrowsmith, and she is a past member of the editorial board of the Kingston Whig-Standard. A graduate of Queen’s University, she currently works as a visiting nurse in the Kingston area.
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