The Silver Anniversary Murder

by Lee Harris

  “She was with me. She worked during the day and I was getting ready for this trip. I had a lot of things to do. But I saw her every night. We were together a lot.”

  “For how long?”

  “Two weeks, maybe more. I’m not sure. It was—uh—it was pretty intense.”

  “Thanks, Barry.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you wanted to know?”

  “Yes. Thanks for calling.”

  “How is she?”

  “She’s fine. Don’t be concerned about her.”

  “Tell her I’ll call her when I get back.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  I felt real relief when I got off the phone. I was sure he was telling the truth. Evening was the only time Ariana could call her parents and that’s when she was “intensely” occupied with Barry. I was sure she had nothing to do with the murders.

  I called Jack and told him about the conversation with Barry Tedesco. He was impressed that Barry had called back so soon, but I thought it was just a lucky coincidence. Probably he had made the trip to pick up provisions and mail, maybe to report to someone. While we were talking, Jack told me he’d heard from Joe Fox. The Brinkers’ SUV had arrived and was being carefully examined, along with its contents. A cursory once-over had not turned up anything important. And, oh yes, there seemed to be no prints on the vehicle that belonged to anyone besides the Brinkers. That he had learned from the Madison police.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, honey.” I got up and went to the back door. Eddie had been playing out back, presumably picking weeds out of my garden, and hopefully not pulling up any of my fledgling tomato and pepper plants.

  “Come and look,” he said when I stepped outside. “There are flowers.”

  We walked back to the garden and he pointed. There were several yellow blossoms on the tomato plants. “Oh, how wonderful,” I said. “You must be very careful not to touch the flowers. In a few days, you’ll see tiny green tomatoes inside them.”

  “Why are they green?”

  “Because they’re not ripe. When they’re red, we can pick them, but not before. Remember last summer?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “We waited till they were nice and ripe and then we went out every day and picked them. How’s your weeding coming along?”

  “I pulled out all those weeds.” He pointed to a small pile and I walked over to inspect them. Sure enough, they were weeds.

  “You’re doing a great job. Now let’s clean up the squash.” I had planted them in hills, and the zucchini vines were really crawling. “These will have great big yellow flowers soon and the little squash will come after them.”

  Dropping to his knees, he started pulling small weeds that cluttered the path between the rows.

  “I’ll call you for lunch in a little while.”

  “OK.”

  I watched him for a minute before going back inside. It was time to put together lunch. And then I would think some more.

  23

  Breakthroughs come in different ways and at different times. I sensed on that Thursday that I had mined every source I could think of. I had Joseph’s opinion, which I value greatly, and Jack and I had discussed this case often. I had satisfied myself, if not Jack, that Ariana was not the killer of her parents. First, she wasn’t in Oakwood at the time. But more important, her parents had obviously been on the run ever since she was a child, and she certainly hadn’t been a threat to them then. I also believed her when she said she had figured it out, even if I wasn’t sure where she was right now.

  After lunch I dropped Eddie off at a friend’s house, thinking I should reciprocate and promising myself I would, as soon as I had this case solved. Back home I sat down at the dining room table once again, determined to see what Ariana had seen and that still eluded me.

  Red checks in my notebook marked some of the facts that concerned me, including the most recent, that the Brinkers had been wearing gloves as they loaded the SUV. I was still troubled that Mrs. Brinker’s driver’s license was missing, but her husband’s wasn’t. And Joseph’s feeling that this whole case was actually about something far more important than money rankled.

  I was deep in thinking again when the phone rang.

  “Chris? Hi, it’s Jessie.”

  “Jessie, good to hear from you. Do you have anything for me?”

  “I wish I did. I checked out two big newspapers for that date you gave me and also a couple of days before and after, and there’s just nothing about the Brinker wedding.”

  “I’m so disappointed,” I said. “I was so sure.”

  “It does seem strange, but I can tell you, I read every society page listing I could find. There was just nothing. Are you sure you have the right date?”

  “Positive. Ariana knows exactly when her parents were married.” I didn’t mention that I had another source, too—that disturbing phone call.

  “Well, I’m really sorry it didn’t work out. If there’s anything else you’d like me to check . . .” She left it hanging.

  “No. Thanks so much for spending the time.”

  When I hung up, I acknowledged my disappointment. How could a wedding like that, a formal wedding with the groom a member of a prominent family, not have a notice? I guessed they wanted their privacy or had some other reason for not notifying the papers. It was a blow. I would have to work with what I had and that hadn’t led me far enough at this point.

  As I went back to the dining room, I took off the shelf a little brass turtle with a magnifier for its back. It stood just the right distance from the page to magnify an image. I laid the photograph of the Brinkers as bride and groom on the table in front of me and set the turtle on top of the right side of the picture, along the line where it had been trimmed. Everything was white, the bride’s dress flowing down to the floor. Leaning over the magnifier, I moved it slowly down the cut edge of the picture. I had left a margin of half an inch but even so, the white of the photo was different from the white of the margin.

  And then I saw it. There weren’t two whites; there were three. One was Elaine Brinker’s wedding dress, one was the white margin of the photo paper, and one was a tiny fold of another white dress. Either a white-gowned brides-maid stood next to her—and I doubted that; the fabric was as long and flowing as Elaine Brinker’s—or there had been a double wedding.

  A double wedding, I thought, facts and images crowding my mind, almost making me dizzy. Who has a double wedding? Sisters. Sisters have double weddings. The Lysaught sisters had been married together. And then it hit me. Twins have double weddings. The Lysaught sisters were twins.

  All the unexplained facts fell into place. I felt momentarily so overwhelmed I could not think which fact to consider first. Mr. Benson’s call last night about the Brinkers wearing gloves. That’s because they weren’t the Brinkers. The woman was Elaine’s twin sister. She had her own fingerprints. The man wasn’t Ronald. He was probably the twin’s husband. The missing driver’s license. The twin could carry her sister’s license and show it if a cop stopped her for an infraction. But her companion, whatever his name might be, couldn’t carry Ronald Brinker’s; it had a different picture on it. “This is my silver wedding anniversary.” I had spoken to the twin, who was telling me the truth.

  I looked again at the minuscule scrap of fabric that came from the second dress. Ariana had looked up the marriage license of her parents, using the name Brinker. Had she looked for the marriage of a woman named Lysaught, she would have found two; I was sure of it. And that’s what she was doing right now. Sometime later today I would get a triumphant call: I found it! My mother was a twin. Aunt Junie got it wrong. I didn’t have a twin, my mother did.

  Something had happened between the two sisters, something so enormous that Elaine’s sister had set out to kill her. It had to be the money. Perhaps the twin’s economic status had deteriorated and she asked for help, knowing through the family grapevine that Elaine had inherited a huge amount of money. But Elaine had
not accommodated her sister, and what had been a very special and intense love had turned into hate.

  Maybe at the beginning the twin wanted only to confront Elaine, but when days and months turned into years and the hatred became inflamed, the desire to confront turned into a desire to kill.

  Even threatened with their lives, the Brinkers refused to disclose the location of the money. After the murder, the twin must have known that Ariana, unable to reach her parents, would try to find them. All the twin had to do was wait around inconspicuously and follow Ariana to the money. I could think of a dozen ways she could have done it.

  I called Jack and told him. He let out a whistle of approval and surprise. “Nice going,” he said. “A double wedding with twins. And you’re right. Something happened between them and the twin wanted money that she didn’t get. Wow!”

  I smiled. Then I told him about Jessie’s call and my hunch that Ariana was in Portland, not Madison, looking up information on her newfound aunt.

  “She should watch her back,” Jack said. “That’s a dangerous woman out there, a multiple killer. She didn’t find the money when she went to Madison and she wants it. She’s got to grab Ariana.”

  “I don’t know how to reach her except to call the hotel we both stayed in and if she’s not there, just to phone other hotels. That’s not going to be easy.”

  “Try that one for starters. Keep me posted.”

  I didn’t have the bill for the hotel, as Ariana had paid for it, but I was pretty sure which one it was and what street it was on. The phone company came through with a number, and in another minute I confirmed that Ariana was there. They rang her room and I got her voice mail.

  “Ariana, this is Chris. Here’s my number.” I rattled it off. “I must speak to you. It’s urgent. I know what you’ve discovered. I looked at the wedding picture myself. Jack says you have to be very careful. She may still be watching you.”

  I hung up and called Joseph, repeating to her what I had told Jack.

  “Very good,” she said. “I think you’re right. And I think the money is part of it. Is Ariana with you?”

  “No. She left without saying where she was going. I tracked her down to Portland. I think she’s checking records again, trying to find out this woman’s married name.”

  “I expect this woman may be close to deranged after so many years of hunting down her sister, not to mention murdering her. Ariana should be careful.”

  I told her about the message I’d left.

  “Keep after her, Chris. I don’t like to think that anything could happen to her. She’s not at fault for any of this.”

  “I know.”

  “One more thing: count the years. I think that’s important.”

  She had to go then; she had someone in her office whom she had to get back to. I hung up thinking about her last instruction. I didn’t know what years she was talking about. I would take a swim and hopefully it would come to me.

  I picked up Eddie on my way home. This had been an amazing day, I thought. A call from Guatemala in the morning and a call to Portland in the afternoon. Talk about being cosmopolitan.

  “Can I swim with you tomorrow?” Eddie asked as we reached our house.

  “Sure. I didn’t take you today because you were busy.”

  “I won’t be busy tomorrow.”

  “OK, honey. You know, when your day camp starts, you’ll swim there every day. Won’t that be nice?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  There was a message from Ariana, and I was relieved to hear her voice. “I knew you’d catch on, Chris. You should see what I dug up. Call me when you get home.”

  I did that. “Ariana,” I began, “Jack thinks you may be in danger. She may be following you.”

  “I don’t think she followed me here. She lost my trail in Madison.”

  “Let’s hope so, but we can’t be sure. I think you should get on the next plane to New York. Call me from the airport so I know when you’re arriving. You can stay here if you want.”

  “OK. I should have enough information now. This aunt of mine married a man named Stuart Trent. Her name is Eileen. Elaine and Eileen. Cute, huh? How could my grandparents have done that?”

  “It was probably the style at the time.”

  “Anyway, what a wedding that was. Unbelievable. Listen, I looked up Stuart Trent, and he’s not in the phone book. Neither is Eileen Trent. I called information and they’re not in Portland.”

  “Ariana, you’re making me very nervous. Please don’t even try to call them. They murdered your parents. If they’re after the money, you could be next.”

  “I know. You’re right. OK, I’ll pack my bag and head for the airport.”

  I gave the whole thing some thought. If this twin had a vendetta against Elaine and Ronald Brinker, maybe it had destroyed her marriage. I called Arnold Gold and told him what we had learned.

  “You’re fantastic,” he said, “not that I ever thought otherwise.”

  “This was a joint operation, Arnold. Here’s my problem. I think there’s a good chance this woman, Eileen Lysaught Trent, is divorced. Is there a way to find out? Do you by any chance have a trusted old friend practicing law in Portland?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Harriet and I went out to the West Coast a couple of years ago and visited him and his wife. He can find out if this woman is divorced, but it may take some time.”

  “Oh.” I’m sure my disappointment was audible.

  “But who knows? We may get lucky. I’ll get back to you.”

  He called back in less than half an hour. “Looks like we’re in luck. He’s got a private investigator that he says is the best in the business. This fellow specializes in divorce work and he’ll know who to seek out in the records department. That’s the best I can do for you.”

  “Arnold, it’s more than I could ask for. We’ve got to find this aunt of Ariana’s before she finds Ariana. I don’t want to think what might happen.”

  “Agreed. So why didn’t she hit Ariana in Oakwood?”

  “She didn’t have the chance. Ariana arrived at night and went to her parents’ apartment. This aunt couldn’t spend twenty-four hours a day watching the door. The next morning, when Ariana arrived again at the apartment complex, she went straight from the taxi to the building manager’s office. Ariana stayed there till I arrived and I took her to our house.”

  “I see.”

  “And from there the aunt essentially followed us to Madison. She probably saw what airline we went to and either found out from the baggage guy where we were going or called the airline and pretended to be Ariana. Then she got in the SUV and drove out to Madison.”

  “Lot of driving.”

  “But doable.”

  “OK. You’ll hear from me as soon as I have something to tell you.”

  When I was setting the table for dinner, Ariana called from the Portland airport. She was standby on a flight east; if she didn’t make it, she would try for another. Not to worry. She would call when she arrived at the hotel.

  It was Friday morning when she eventually called, sounding half asleep. She had had a long layover somewhere along the way, but she was safe and sound at the hotel, the DO NOT DISTURB sign was on the door, and she expected to sleep for the next several hours. She would call when her day began.

  Ariana called about noon, and when I went to pick her up, I took special care when I left the house to see if a car was parked along the street or an unfamiliar woman was strolling in the neighborhood. Observing nothing unusual, I sensed that Ariana was right; the aunt had lost her trail in Madison.

  Ariana, Eddie, and I went out for lunch. Eddie thought that was just great. He was so involved in eating his sloppy cheeseburger, he had little to say. Ariana and I made up for it.

  Starting with my discovery of the second wedding dress in the picture, I went through everything, including the call to Guatemala, which surprised her and put a smile on her face. I finished with my call to Arnold.

  “A
divorce. I never thought of that,” she said. “But you’re right. A woman like that must be hard to live with.”

  “We may not hear for a while, but Arnold said his lawyer friend had a very good investigator who would work on it. I suspect more changes hands than pieces of paper.”

  “I see. And once we know what name she’s using right now, we should notify the police.”

  “We can tell Joe Fox, if he’s still speaking to me. He wasn’t very happy when you left town.”

  “I couldn’t sit around and wait while nothing was happening. I had to make something happen.”

  “And you did.”

  “So now we know who’s been hounding my parents all these years and why they were doing it.”

  “And if we’re right, they could still be after you.” I glanced over at Eddie, unwilling to have him hear what awful things went on in the world around him, but he was working on his dripping burger with great dedication.

  “What do we do now?”

  “We hope to hear from Arnold soon and then we take what we have to Detective Fox. When they pick up this woman, she’s likely to have your mother’s driver’s license and other things that clearly came from, you know.” I glanced at Eddie.

  “Chris, what we found in Madison, that’s still between us. OK?”

  “Fine.”

  “I still don’t know for sure where it came from, but I believe it was an inheritance.”

  “So do I.”

  “That was good,” Eddie said. He turned his face toward me and I almost laughed. Ketchup, relish, and assorted other drippings encircled his mouth. He stuck his tongue out to get the last of it before I applied a thick paper napkin to his face.

  Ariana laughed. “I’m not a good influence,” she said. “I’m always on the kid’s side.”

  24

  The call from Arnold came after we’d had dinner. His lawyer friend had called him at home. The detective had done his job and done it well. He knew this one and that one, and he could get a favor when he needed it.

  “I have news for you,” Arnold said. “This woman, this Eileen Lysaught Trent, wasn’t Mrs. Trent for very long. The date of her first marriage is the one you gave me, but she divorced less than two years later.”