by Abigail Keam
Walter intervened, “Because I wasn’t really sure she was missing. She could have left with someone. I didn’t want to cause Mrs. Witt any embarrassment by being an alarmist. People hire me to keep things quiet.”
“You told one of my officers that you were working for Mrs. Witt.”
“Yes. She hired me to investigate whether or not she had a stalker.”
“Who brought her here?”
“I did,” replied Walter, wearily rubbing his forehead with his thumb.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Around 9:15, I think.”
“What about you, Mrs. Reynolds?”
“I got here around 5 pm.”
“Why so early?”
“I was helping Mrs. Todd prep.”
“You with her all that time?”
“No. I went upstairs around 6:45 and took a nap.”
Goetz raised an eyebrow as he jotted down the information. “Did you have permission to use the upstairs bedrooms?”
“No.”
“Sounds like you. What time did you join the gala?”
“I’m not sure. I fell into a deep sleep and was awakened by someone running through the hallway and trying to open my door.”
“Why your door?”
“I don’t know, but when I went out into the hall, I noticed all the doors to the upstairs rooms were closed. When I first went upstairs they were all standing open with the skeleton keys in their locks.”
“Were the keys in the doors when you went downstairs?”
“I didn’t notice any keys when I went downstairs, but I can’t swear to that.”
“You said someone was running through the hall?”
“Yes.”
“Not walking fast, but running?”
“I can’t be sure. I was coming out of a deep sleep, but she was moving fast enough that I heard the rustle of a gown.”
Goetz stopped taking notes and peered down at me. “So it was a woman?”
“I thought so. My first inclination was that she was looking for a restroom.”
Goetz turned to Walter. “Was Mrs. Witt wearing a dress that would rustle?”
Walter shrugged. “She was wearing a dress from some sort of stiff fabric. I don’t know what you call it.”
“Bunny was wearing a red dress that had a sequined bodice with a taffeta skirt. The skirt would make noise when she walked,” I interjected. “I noticed the dress when I opened the trunk.”
“Anything else?”
I thought for a moment. “You’ll find footprints underneath the window of the room I was staying in. I threw my bag out the window,” I said, leaving Liam out of the picture. He didn’t need further attention from the police.
“Why didn’t you take it out through the house like a normal person?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone to know I had been napping upstairs. Look, I’m guilty of using an antique bed without permission, but that’s all. I had nothing to do with Bunny Witt’s demise. Can I go home now? I’m bushed.”
“Yeah, but Mr. Neff, I need you to come to the morgue and identify the body. Mrs. Witt doesn’t seem to have any kinfolk.”
“She had a personal assistant who might have come to town for the gala,” I said.
Looking miffed, Walter claimed, “If that’s true, I haven’t seen her, and Mrs. Witt didn’t mention anything about any personal assistant,”
“Got a name for this assistant?” asked Goetz, furiously writing everything down.
I shook my head.
Goetz mocked, “Of course not.”
“Lady Elsmere might know,” I suggested.
“I’ll give her a call. Also, I want a look in your bag before you leave.”
I reached around, grabbing my bag from the backseat of the car and held it out.
Goetz stuck his notebook and pencil in his coat pocket before putting on gloves.
“Hurry or I’m going to drop this. It’s heavy,” I pleaded.
Goetz grabbed the bag and pulled the zipper carefully. Walter crowded in behind him so he could peek as well.
All Goetz found was a damp toothbrush, my dirty work clothes, a pair of tennis shoes, makeup kit, and a hairbrush. “Okay, you can go,” he said.
I threw the bag into the backseat again and started the car. I drove very slowly past the coroner’s van and multiple police cars with their lights flashing violently into the dark of the cool night.
Looking into my rearview mirror, I saw Teddy McPherson speaking with Goetz, who once again had his notebook out.
I’m ashamed to say my last thought leaving the parking lot was not of poor, dead Bunny.
I wondered if Teddy was still going to call on me the next day.
27
Matt and I accompanied Lady Elsmere to Bunny Witt’s funeral.
The crowd was smaller than expected. I guess Bunny’s friends were in New York, where she spent most of her time.
Standing near the casket was a blond woman in her thirties receiving the few people who had bothered to attend this dreary affair. She had an air of authority about her.
Lady Elsmere passed her to view Bunny, but Matt and I stopped to introduce ourselves.
“Hello. I’m Josiah Reynolds and this is Matthew Garth. We’re so sorry for your loss.”
The woman had reddish, puffy eyes as if she had been crying recently. “I’m Emma Fisher. I am–I mean–I was Mrs. Witt’s personal assistant. I know who you are, Mrs. Reynolds. Mrs. Witt told me how you were helping her with this dreadful business of a stalker. If you have a few minutes after the funeral, I would very much like to speak with you.”
“I’m not sure how long we will be staying,” I replied, pointing to Lady Elsmere bending over the coffin and patting Bunny’s hand.
Seeing Lady Elsmere looked frail indeed, Ms. Fisher said, “Of course. Here’s my card. Please call me, Ms. Reynolds, and soon. I need to speak with you.”
Curious, I took the card and nodded. “I’ll call you this evening, if that is all right.”
“That would be fine.”
“Please excuse my friend,” I said, referring to Lady Elsmere. “She was a dear friend of Bunny’s mother, and this death has hit her hard.”
Emma Fisher shot a quick look at Lady Elsmere. “So that must be June Webster, the woman Mrs. Witt was staying with? I should have realized. Please excuse me. I would like to personally thank her for taking Mrs. Witt under her wing during her time of need.”
Matt and I nodded and retreated to a back room in the funeral home where there were refreshments. I needed something to drink and perhaps a cookie to lift my spirits. Seeing Bunny in a coffin had unnerved me. Perhaps I should have taken her situation more seriously.
Jumping Jehosaphat! There was no doubt about it.
In a corner sat a glum Walter Neff. He stood when he saw me.
“Pardon me, Matt. I should speak with Walter.”
“I’m going to drink this bottle of water, and then I’ll check on June. Take your time.”
I crossed the room to Walter and sat beside him.
“How you holding up, Walter?”
Walter shook his head. “I keep going over that night and I can’t make sense of it.”
“I think someone lured Bunny out and then killed her.”
“But why? Nothing was stolen. We found her purse. Nothing was taken, and she was wearing all her jewelry when she was found.”
“Maybe your angle is all wrong. Let’s say robbery wasn’t the reason. What else might have triggered her death?”
“I’ve checked her exes. They all have alibis. Hell, they weren’t even in the state.”
“That doesn’t mean that they couldn’t have hired someone.”
“Yeah, but what’s the motive?”
“Revenge?”
“She either gave them a big check up front when she divorced them, or was paying alimony. Upon her death the alimony payments stopped. There was no incentive there. Rule the husbands out.”
Just as Walter started to say something Emma Fisher came into the room with Lady Elsmere clutching her arm for support. At the sight of Ms. Fisher, he blanched. Instead of finishing what he was about to say, Walter mumbled, “I’ll holler atcha later,” and fled the room.
I studied Ms. Fisher as she watched Walter leave. She didn’t seem pleased to see him at the funeral home, but I didn’t have time to analyze why, because June reached for my hand.
“Take me home, Josiah,” said she in a raspy voice. “I’ve had enough of death today.”
Matt rushed over and took June’s arm, escorting her to the Bentley.
Emma Fisher called after me, “Don’t forget to call me, Mrs. Reynolds. It’s imperative that I talk with you.”
“I will, but I must go now. Lady Elsmere seems to be very upset. I need to be with her.”
Ms. Fisher nodded and went back into the room where her former employer was laid out in a very ornate, copper-colored coffin.
I looked back to see Emma Fisher wipe a tear from her face as she walked away.
At least there was someone who had truly cared for our Miss Bunny.
That’s more than many of us get when we die.
28
I met Emma Fisher at the Chevy Chase Inn, a local watering hole in the Chevy Chase section of town. She was waiting for me in a back booth.
I ordered a Virgin Bloody Mary before joining her.
“Thank you for coming,” Emma said.
“No problem. This place is not too far from home. Everything done for Bunny?”
Emma took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. “Mrs. Witt was interred next to her mother in the Lexington Cemetery.” She reached inside her purse for a tissue when tears clouded her eyes. “Next month I’ll return to New York for a memorial service. That’s where most of her friends are. I was surprised that so few people showed up for Mrs. Witt’s funeral. Shocked, actually.”
“You seemed to be devoted to her.”
“Yes, I was. Mrs. Witt was a very kind woman. Most people did not realize that about her. She came off as kind of frivolous, I know, but Mrs. Witt was sincerely a good-hearted woman.”
“If you say so,” I replied. “How long had you worked for Bunny?”
“Eleven years. Next September would have made it twelve.”
“Was she a good employer?”
“She was very demanding about certain things, but Mrs. Witt paid above scale. This suit I’m wearing–it’s hers. I could never afford something this expensive. When she was tired of an outfit, she gave to me. Sometimes she had never even tried it on before she gave it to me.” Emma took a sip of her drink. “When my father took ill, Mrs. Witt paid all his hospital bills. I didn’t even know about it until I went to talk to the hospital about establishing monthly payments. The clerk told me all my father’s bills had already been paid in full by Mrs. Witt.”
“That was indeed generous,” I agreed, surprised. “What was it that you wanted to see me about, Ms. Fisher?”
“Did you ever discover who was stalking Mrs. Witt?”
“I was not able to. That’s why she hired Walter Neff.”
“That odious little man,” spat Emma. “I need to close Ravensnest, but he absolutely refuses to leave. He says he’s staying put until he solves the case. I’m going to start an eviction process if he doesn’t leave by this weekend. Do you know who recommended him? I’d like to wring her neck.”
“I haven’t the foggiest,” I lied. “You don’t think Walter Neff had anything to do with Bunny’s murder, do you?”
“It seems he was the last person to see her alive. Why not?”
“Because there was no profit in it for him. Walter Neff doesn’t do anything unless it benefits him.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know that about him?”
Ooops! Trying to change the subject, I asked, “Ms. Fisher, who does benefit from Bunny’s death? Have you seen her will?”
“I’m the executrix. Her exes, including a couple of favorite former boyfriends, get a million each. Theda Finkelstein, her cook, gets two million, as do I. I also get the New York apartment with an annuity for maintenance fees if I want it. The bulk of her estate will be liquidated and will fund a philanthropic foundation.”
“Who is to head this foundation?”
Emma’s cheeks reddened a little bit. “Mrs. Witt wanted me to head the foundation.”
I leaned against the back of the bench seat. “I see. How long ago was the will written?”
“Last year. Please don’t think I encouraged her, Mrs. Reynolds. I didn’t even know until Mrs. Witt’s lawyer recently informed me.”
“The will has already been read?”
“No. Not officially. He called to brief me just after Mrs. Witt’s death. Unless her murder is solved quickly, the probate will not move forward for now.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m frightened, Mrs. Reynolds. Someone was out to get Mrs. Witt. I’m worried that whoever was after her may well come after me next.”
“You believe it has something to do with the terms of the will?”
“I don’t know what it has to do with. It all started when she gave an interview to a reporter in London about that silly tale of her aunt getting jewels from some raja in India.”
Emma really had my attention now. I leaned forward. “When was this?”
“About a year ago. No, not quite that long ago, but about. It was only a paragraph in the story about her family, but the ruckus it stirred up in London–it was horrible. Mrs. Witt was even contacted by the Indian consulate, who asserted any jewels given were the rightful property of the Indian government and must be returned.”
Emma had grown extremely animated, gesturing with trembling hands. “The London apartment was ransacked. Goodness, what a mess. Someone even slashed open her mattress, and punched holes in the walls to search behind the plaster. It was too much. I packed our bags and we got out of there pronto.”
“She never mentioned that to me. Wait.” I thought for a moment. “As a matter of fact, she did. Bunny said her apartment had been searched in London, and that’s why she was in New York. She made it sound rather trivial.”
“It wasn’t, I assure you. It was terrifying.”
“Walter Neff told the police he wasn’t aware that you were in town. In fact, he remarked that he didn’t even know you existed,” I said.
“I was staying at Mrs. Witt’s apartment in town.”
“But why not stay at Ravensnest?”
“I don’t know. Mrs. Witt just told me to stay at the apartment in town.”
“Who else was staying at Ravensnest?”
“There is a farm manager and a housekeeper, but they don’t live on the farm. The only people staying at Ravensnest were Mrs. Witt and Walter Neff, what little good that did her.”
“Have you spoken to Detective Goetz?”
“Yes. Several times.”
“What does he say?”
Emma threw up her hands. “Nothing. Just says he’s working on the case.”
“He’s a very good detective. If this case can be solved, the identity of the murderer will be discovered. Goetz will root him out.” I paused for a moment. “Ms. Fisher, I still don’t understand why you felt you needed to talk to me?”
“I thought you might know something that the police don’t. Mrs. Witt did turn to you. She trusted you. I’m grasping at straws, I know.”
“Ms. Fisher, please believe me. I don’t know who killed Bunny or who was causing her such distress, but let me give you a piece of advice. I would go back to New York, double the locks on your apartment, get a security system, change your phone number, and hunker down until this is over. I don’t know if you are in danger, but why take the chance? Get out of Lexington. Get out today.”
Ms. Fisher’s face drained of color. She hurriedly threw a twenty on the table and fled the bar.
I
hoped I had put the fear of God into Emma Fisher. If someone was out to get her, it would take all of her strength and cunning to elude him.
I oughta know.
29
I confess I was a little rattled when I left the Chevy Chase Inn. Maybe I should have had a real Bloody Mary after all.
Did I believe Emma Fisher was in danger, and that she acutally had cared for Bunny Witt? Everyone I had talked with about Bunny thought she was a selfish twit. Did Bunny have hidden depth after all? It was hard to fathom. I didn’t believe Emma’s story–plain and simple. Call it my gut rumbling. I think she was fishing.
Okay. I will accept the fact that I’m paranoid. I will agree with you that I have turned into a cynical woman, given to sarcasm and bad manners, but I’m not heartless. I just didn’t believe the “I’m frightened, Auntie Em, I’m frightened” speech.
As things turned out I should have. I should have done more, but I didn’t.
But what else could I have done? I gave her good advice.
Emma just failed to take it.
30
I was completely exhausted and went straight to bed. I didn’t want to hear any more about Bunny Witt. Let Walter Neff and Goetz sort it out.
I was in a deep slumber when something awakened me. Sitting up in bed, I listened.
Baby was barking by the front door. He was so loud, the sound had echoed through the house to my back bedroom. Now Baby growls at many things during the night that he deems dangerous–cats chewing on his ears, a raccoon getting a drink of water out of the pool, a deer rambling across the driveway–but he rarely barks at night. It’s not the English Mastiff way.
I got up, grabbed my Taser, and went to the front door, turning on all the outdoor lights. In a coat closet just inside the front door, I have monitors for my many surveillance cameras. I checked the camera by the electronic front gate. Nothing. I checked the camera for Matt’s house. Nothing.
“False alarm, buddy. Let’s go back to bed.”
Baby leaned against me and whimpered.
“It’s okay, Baby. Nothing’s out there. Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”