The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery)

by Victoria Abbott

  “Listen to me, Vera. She was your alibi, but, more important, you were hers.”

  “More nonsense, Miss Bingham.”

  “You went off to college at the end of the summer and three months later, Carmen Delgado died. When Pete Delaney was killed in June, his wife had less than a year to live. He left everything to her, including a million-dollar life insurance policy. Then when Carmen died, Muriel inherited the house and what was left of the insurance money. That was enough to get her out of Harrison Falls and off to a new life in the big city where no one knew her. Muriel had a powerful motive to kill Pete.”

  “She left because she was heartbroken. I am responsible for that.”

  “She left because she had enough money to. You didn’t kill Pete Delaney, and Muriel didn’t either. She arranged for Frank Riley to do it.”

  Something changed in Vera’s eyes. A spark of hope? “Frank Riley?”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember him. He was a rough boy from over on Lilac Lane and not too bright, but he had quite a crush on Muriel.”

  Lilac Lane? Well, that explained a few things. The old couple were probably still in touch with Frank and Junior. Maybe they were even relatives. They probably knew about Frank’s connection with Muriel. That would account for the woman’s instant hostility at my questions.

  I turned my focus back to Vera. Time was an issue. “He tried to run me over. The same way that he ran over Pete Delaney all those years ago. I know it’s because I was asking questions about Muriel. And no one will get him to admit that because he’s dead, as is his brute of a son. Muriel, of course, has an alibi for both incidents.”

  “You can’t prove she was involved.”

  “And no one could prove you hit Pete Delaney. Vera, let us help you. We need to get you out of the house.”

  I heard the car horn beeping our SOS signal.

  “No,” Vera said.

  “Staying is too risky.”

  “You think I’m in danger?”

  “Yes. That original inheritance must be used up, but Muriel gets another big payoff if something happens to you.”

  “There’s not much you can do to protect me from these so-called unknown accomplices.”

  “Vera, please. Come with me.”

  “You’d better get going, Miss Bingham, if she’s as dangerous as you say. What could she do to me?”

  “She could push your wheelchair down the stairs. She could smother you in your sleep. She could tamper with your food. So don’t leave the room with her. Keep your door locked. Don’t eat or drink anything she gives you.”

  I hightailed it down the hall and up the steep and dark back stairs to the third floor and my beloved little apartment. It looked so forlorn without my stuff, but I was glad to see the curling cabbage rose wallpaper and the iron bedstead with the flowered quilt.

  Somehow Cherie had managed to install the web cam in Vera’s room, and the interior of the room was visible on the small screen of the laptop she’d left for me. I also had a good view of Vera. One good thing, there was no sign of the signora’s package.

  I gasped at a knock on Vera’s door.

  Vera stiffened. She raised her chin.

  “Come in,” she said.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I AM CHECKING TO see how you are.” Muriel strode into the room, looming over Vera in her wheelchair. She was as large and coarse and scary-looking as ever. Her loose and flowy black clothes still swirled around her like a dark specter. For some reason she was carrying a small tray.

  One floor up, I hunched over the screen and held my breath.

  Vera said, “How kind, Muriel. I am fine. What was all that fuss outside?”

  “That idiot Eddie and that other idiot, Kevin Kelly. They’re drunk.”

  “Drunk?”

  “They were acting crazy. I could smell alcohol on Eddie’s breath.”

  “Could you?”

  “Sure could. You are lucky to have gotten rid of them. If they come back, I’ll call the police.”

  “The police would be a good idea.”

  Oh, Vera. You caught that, didn’t you. I sat up straight. Of course, Eddie was allergic to alcohol. We all knew he never touched it because it made him instantly ill. Muriel wasn’t very good at lying on the fly. Rule One: Keep It Simple. Guess she didn’t have an Uncle Mick to guide her. Vera was staring at Muriel. I could almost see the wheels turning. Was this finally enough to convince her that Muriel was determined to do her some harm?

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Muriel said, “I brought you a snack. I’ll put it on the table here. Those two fools have me distracted.”

  “We wouldn’t want that,” Vera said.

  Yes! At last, a peek at the old Vera.

  “They’re double-chocolate mocha brownies with truffle icing and some ginger tea. Very nice.” Muriel put the tray on the small table near Vera’s wheelchair. I recognized the Royal Derby china. And I recognized something else.

  “Thank you.”

  “Aren’t you going to try one?”

  “I certainly am,” Vera said, “But I have a little acid reflux, so I’ll take a tablet for that first. I’d like to savor them, Muriel.” She extracted a pill container from her bedside table and popped a pill into her mouth.

  “Of course, well, eat up. I’m feeling rather unwell myself.” She picked up Vera’s copy of Over My Dead Body and fondled it. Even from my position, I could feel Vera seething. It was one of her favorite Wolfe stories. Muriel dropped the book carelessly into her bag and said, “I can’t reach my doctor, so I’m going to the emergency room at Grandville General. They say you should follow up immediately if you have pain in the jaw and tingling down your arms.”

  Even on the small screen, it seemed to me that Vera’s eyes glittered. “Would you like me to go with you?”

  “And why would I want that?”

  “It would be ill-advised to drive yourself.”

  “I’m not stupid. I’ve called a cab.”

  “Good thinking,” Vera said.

  I snorted and said out loud, “Right, because you need that alibi, Muriel.”

  Vera obviously had figured that out too. “Well, there will be lots of people to keep an eye on you at the Emergency room.”

  “Yes. Are you nervous alone?”

  “Ridiculous. What could I have to fear in my own home?”

  Muriel’s thin mouth squirmed into a smile. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  The door closed behind Muriel, and Vera rolled toward the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush in a minute. When Vera rolled back into view, the plate was empty and I assumed the cup was too.

  There went the evidence.

  I gasped when there was another knock. Muriel was back. This time she’d added another layer of swirling black outerwear. “My cab has arrived,” she said in a doom-laden voice. “Oh, I see you’ve finished the brownies and ginger tea. Let me take the plate and cup out of your way.”

  I bit my lip. That would get rid of any traces of drugs.

  Vera said, “You have outdone yourself.”

  Muriel turned and said, “I imagine I’ll be back by midnight.”

  I raced to the top front window in the attic—to be sure that Muriel actually got into the cab—before I dashed down the steep stairs to Vera’s room. I called Kev. “Muriel’s gone. I think she’s sending her accomplice to finish Vera.”

  “Roger, Bo Peep.”

  I caught my breath at Vera’s door. It was open. She was holding the poker to her fireplace set.

  “You were right, Miss Bingham.”

  “Whoa. You didn’t eat those brownies, did you?”

  “Do you take me for a fool?” Ah, the old Vera was back.

  “What did you do with them? I should have mentioned they’d be useful evidence.”
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  “Of course, they’d be evidence. I hid them in the bathroom cupboard. I poured the tea in my toothbrush glass. I wanted Muriel to believe she’d succeeded. I didn’t realize you were still in the house, Miss Bingham.”

  “I’ve been watching what happened on the webcam that shows your room. I didn’t want you to worry about giving anything away.”

  Vera’s eyebrow arched. It told me what she thought of that.

  “Well, Miss Bingham. What now?”

  “Now we get out of here. And Kev and Eddie will wait to see who shows up. We don’t know who’s helping Muriel and whether there’s one accomplice or more.”

  But even as I said it, I had an inkling.

  “My car’s on the other side of the field, but we’ll take your Cadillac from the garage. Are the keys still in the kitchen? Wait for me by the back door. We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  Vera said, “I am not leaving.”

  “We’ve got to get out of here before Muriel’s collaborator shows up. Part of keeping yourself safe means making a new will tonight. Name any beneficiary except Muriel, even the cats if you want. As long as this last will is valid, you’re in danger.”

  While we were talking, I rearranged the pillows on the bed to make it look like Vera was sleeping, then dimmed the light. Perhaps in the rush of the moment Muriel’s sidekick wouldn’t notice the wheelchair was missing. Any attack on Vera’s sleeping form would be captured through my webcam.

  “I will not be driven from my home.”

  “Don’t think of it as being driven. Think of it as choosing not to be murdered in your home. We have webcams in place in your room and at the front and back doors. We’ll capture images of the other scumbag on the computer. And if we get them on tape in your room, we’ll have something concrete to bring to the police and then you can come right back home. Really, we’re just going to visit my Uncle Mick and have some untainted tea.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I shouldn’t have let her manipulate me. I am ashamed of myself. This is what comes of pride, Miss Bingham. She found my weakness. I was afraid of exposure, scandal and a trial. At the time, I thought it would be even more disgrace for my family name. I see now how I was used.”

  “Fine. But you’ll have to lie low until we get a few things under control. Let’s go to the library. I’ll make it seem like you’re in bed here, and you’ll be safer in the library with the security system activated. In the meantime, we’ll be working to spring a trap. Why don’t you take along Where There’s a Will and enjoy that at least?”

  “One of my favorites and it does seem apropos, Miss Bingham. I won’t fight you on relocating to the library. And the trap?”

  “I was thinking a gathering of witnesses and suspects, Nero Wolfe style. If all goes well, you’ll be vindicated, Muriel will be stopped and the accomplice will be exposed.”

  “If all doesn’t go well?”

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen some theater?”

  Vera tilted her head. I was glad to spot a slight upward curl at the corners of her lips.

  As we waited for the elevator, I pulled out my phone and called Mick. “Drop everything. I need you to pick up Dwight Jenkins, the lawyer, and bring him to Van Alst House now. He needs to draw up a new will for Vera. She’ll be in the library. Come around to the back, bring Jenkins right to the library and stay with him and Vera. You and I can be witnesses.” I held the phone away from my ear as Mick gave me his opinion of this plan. “It’s Code Red, Uncle Mick.”

  In our family, Code Red trumps everything.

  My phone vibrated as soon as I hung up. I’d missed a call from Kev and apparently I had also missed one from the Poocherie earlier in the day. I checked to discover that I had a message from Jasmine. I almost let it go. Cat food and dog treats seemed very unimportant with everything that was going on. Even if she’d remembered something else about the Rileys, that wouldn’t help much at this stage. After all, they were dead.

  I got Vera settled in the library with the door locked. Her job was to phone the security company and change the code to the library door. I didn’t want anyone but the good guys joining her there. I headed back upstairs to keep an eye on the webcam. I settled on the bed with the laptop and played Jasmine’s message.

  Her voice was apologetic. “Very sorry it took so long to get back to you. I’ve been so busy. I forgot that you’d asked me about those guys. Call me if it’s important. My number is—”

  I called her.

  Lucky for me, she answered right away.

  “Once I got away from the chaos, my head cleared and I remembered them.”

  “Where did you see them?”

  “I had to come back to the Poocherie late one night because I forgot my wallet. I saw these guys coming out of the Hudson Café around midnight, long after it closed. They caught my eye because they didn’t seem like the usual clientele, if you know what I mean. They were pretty grungy with muddy boots and all. I thought maybe they’d broken in.”

  “The Hudson Café? Really?”

  “It is kind of weird and it’s probably nothing.”

  I swallowed. Visions of the double-chocolate mocha brownies with truffle icing swam in my head. “Was anyone with them? Maybe they were friends with some of the staff.”

  “I may be wrong here but it seemed like they were tight with Lainie, the owner, and another person that I didn’t know. They all acted like old friends. Like they went way back.”

  Lainie Hetherington had only been in Harrison Falls since the summer. She and the Rileys couldn’t have gone that far back unless there was another connection. And she’d never mentioned that she knew them personally. I could feel pieces falling into place.

  “Did you see the other person, Jasmine?”

  “Yes. But I didn’t know her.”

  “Would you recognize her if you saw her?”

  “I think so.”

  “This is really important. Thanks so much. Don’t mention it to anyone at all. And I will need you to do a huge, lifesaving favor for me.”

  Jasmine said. “I love it when you’re mysterious.”

  “Just sit tight and be available.”

  I called Kev. “You and Eddie better get in here. Hide your car somewhere. Vera is refusing to leave so we’re bringing the lawyer to her to update the will.”

  “We’re a mile or two away, Jordie.”

  “A mile or two? Why, Kev?” Of course, because he was Kev, it was physically painful for him to follow instructions.

  “Just thought it might be a good idea to get the kitties.”

  “What?” Like bringing a stick of dynamite to a bonfire is a good idea.

  “But the signora wouldn’t let them go. I took the dogs instead.”

  “Aw, tell me you didn’t.”

  “I thought they might cheer up Vera. But don’t worry. Eddie’s gone back to get the kitties and the signora.”

  Funny, I didn’t remember taking a handful of crazy pills. I spoke slowly so as not to startle my already stunned uncle. “Kev, the pets will not cheer Vera up if she’s dead. Do you understand what I’m saying? I need you here.”

  “Ooooh, okay. I get it, Jordie. Should I pick up coffee or snacks?”

  I massaged my sweaty temples. “No, Kev. No doughnuts. I just need you. Here. Now.”

  I was pretty sure I knew what would happen next. Vera had been intended to consume one or two drugs that interacted badly in the brownies and the tea. I imagined sleeping pills and muscle relaxants. Enough to kill her and yet still look like an accidental overdose by a fragile woman with health and sleeping issues. Then someone would show up to make sure she was dead. And if she was still breathing, I imagined they’d hold a pillow over her face until she stopped. It would all be hard to prove and it would happen while Muriel was being her highly visible self at the hospi
tal.

  I figured I knew who the someone was. The source of the brownies. One of the people I’d talked to about Muriel. The same one with whom I’d shared my concerns about the Rileys. I’d trusted the new owner of the Hudson Café completely. I’d been sucked in by her lovely compassionate manner and her sweet desserts. I felt foolish and naïve.

  I used my iPhone to check some facts, starting by Googling Lainie Hetherington. I found several articles about her and her cognitive therapy practice.

  Why had I never thought to do that before? It didn’t take long before I found a nugget. Lainie Hetherington had been charged with fraud last year following a complaint by a former patient. Further investigation showed that charges had been dropped, but her license had been suspended, meaning she couldn’t practice in the state. So not retired, but unable to practice.

  What was the connection between her and Muriel? Muriel had also lived in New York City. She’d left Vera alone for nearly forty years. What had caused her to return? Had she been a patient of Lainie’s? Whatever you could say about Muriel, she was still a damaged person. Was she bitter and angry? Had she been desperate to be acknowledged as a Van Alst? Had she confided that to a warm and sympathetic therapist? Did Muriel’s hatred of Vera and the so-called secret spark an opportunity for Lainie after she lost her license and livelihood?

  I figured the answer was yes.

  Muriel would have been a sitting duck. Just like Vera.

  But now I just had to prove it.

  The time was now ten o’clock. Uncle Mick had arrived with Dwight Jenkins. They were no sooner through the door when Eddie showed up with the signora and the cats. The cats vanished instantly. I rushed down the stairs to get everyone settled. Uncle Mick and Dwight Jenkins were ushered into the library. Jenkins was sputtering at the inconvenience. He was ill-advisedly using the word “kidnap” in that sputtering.

  I said, “You can stop that talk now. You’ve been used as part of a murder plot and you’ll cooperate with Miss Van Alst and hope you don’t have the full weight of the law and the licensing body on your head. Uncle Mick, as soon as the will’s witnessed you need to put your car out of sight. Try behind the garage.” I headed off a bout of outrage. “Not for long and incredibly important. You too, Eddie. No one must know we’re here.”