Murder By Duplicity

by B. T. Lord

  “Oh, it’s been years.” She paused, then continued. “I’m not going to get into any trouble, am I?”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I would hate to cause trouble for poor Mayor Barnes. He’s been such a good mayor and with people saying he’s responsible for George Peabody’s murder...”

  “Did you ever wonder why he went to see Mr. Steepman?”

  “I’m sure it was to tell him to stop peeping into people’s windows.”

  “Did Steepman ever peep through your window or slider?”

  “No, thank goodness.”

  Cammie stood up and replaced the binoculars on the window frame. “Is that the only person you ever saw visiting Mr. Steepman?” She nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Hatcher. You’ve been a big help.”

  Cammie let herself out. When she got back into the Explorer, she told Rick what she’d discovered.

  “How did you know Mrs. Hatcher knew something?”

  “I suppose I could impress you with my incredible deductive abilities, but the truth is I saw her looking out her window with the binoculars as we drove past her house. Every neighborhood has a Mrs. Hatcher.”

  Rick glanced at her. “So what’s your thinking? Is Bill responsible for Steeper the Peeper’s murder?”

  “If Steepman was blackmailing Margo and he found out about it…” She let her words hang for a moment. “I just need to figure out what connection, if any, there is between Margo and Steepman.”

  She unexpectedly received her answer a few days later. She’d barely walked into HQ before Emmy was waving a piece of paper at her. “I found something that I think you might find interesting.” She followed Cammie into her office where she put the piece of paper down on the sheriff’s desk.

  “This is a complaint Mrs. Peabody filed with our previous sheriff. It was about a month after she and Mr. Peabody moved to Twin Ponds. According to this, she hired Mr. Steepman to paint the small shed in the backyard where they kept their lawn mower and gardening tools.”

  “I thought Steepman was on disability for a back injury,” Cammie said.

  Emmy shrugged. “Maybe he was feeling better?”

  Cammie guffawed. “Or maybe it was just another sign of his dishonesty. So what happened?”

  “She said she thought the work was shoddy. He said she complained about the color, even though she picked it. Anyway, she refused to pay him. They had words which resulted in him running over her azalea and rose bushes. She claims he tried to run her over. He naturally denied it. In the end, Sheriff Bannon convinced her not to press charges.”

  “Great job, Em!” Cammie said as she looked over the report. “Jessie still lives up on Harcourt Road, right?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m off to pick his brain about this.”

  “His memory is kinda like Dottie Hanson’s,” she warned her.

  “Let’s hope it’s just his short term memory that’s on the blink.”

  Sheriff Jessie Bannon had been sheriff when Cammie was growing up. She remembered the overweight, red faced man as a kindly if slightly befuddled law enforcement officer who was only elected sheriff because there was no one else who wanted the job. His experience rested on his five years serving as security at the bank. Everyone knew that if there had ever been a robbery, Jessie would have been the first to drop dead of a heart attack. But for twenty five years he managed to keep Twin Ponds safe. When she was elected sheriff, she worried about stepping on his toes, but he graciously made it clear he had no hard feelings. He’d been ready to retire years before and when she showed up, he considered it a blessing.

  He now lived in a log cabin near Highway 4, the road that connected Twin Ponds to the outside world. Widowed years before, he spent his time fly fishing during the summers and ice fishing in the winters.

  When Cammie drove up, she found him sitting on his small front porch, with a dozen tackle boxes open in front of him.

  “Hey Jessie, how are you?” she greeted as she climbed out of the Explorer.

  “Well, what a surprise,” Jessie greeted. “You tracking down an outlaw in my woods?”

  “Nothing that dramatic. Actually came by to pick your brain about an incident that happened about twelve years ago.”

  Jessie, who had only grown bigger since leaving the sheriff’s department, moved one of the tackle boxes off a chair and pointed to it. “Sit yourself down. I go through my bait once a year to see what I’m going to keep, and what I’m going to toss. Nine times out of ten, I keep more than I should.” Cammie sat down next to him. “Can I get you some iced tea? It’s a scorcher today.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Heard about George Peabody. Everybody thought he’d left Twin Ponds after losing the election. Never figured he was decomposing right outside of town.”

  “It was a surprise, that’s for sure.”

  “Always seemed like a good man. Pleasant. Never had a bad word to say about anyone. A bit opinionated, but none of us are perfect.”

  Cammie cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve heard he was a bit of a racist.”

  It was Jessie’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “You don’t say? News to me.”

  “I’m actually here to ask you about his wife, Margo.”

  Jessie grunted. “Now she was what the kids these days call a high maintenance type of woman. Lord, but she was moody. You never knew which side of the bed she’d gotten up on until she either jumped down your throat, or was as nice as molasses.”

  “Had a lot of interaction with her, did you?”

  “Had no choice. I’m sure Bill is still having those quarterly information sharing meetings as he used to call them.”

  Cammie chuckled. “He still does.”

  “Sometimes it was easy peasy seeing him. Other times, it was like trying to break into Fort Knox. I think she enjoyed the power of having me wait until she was ready to let me in to see Bill.”

  “Do you remember this incident?” She took out the report Emmy had found and showed it to Jessie. He read it slowly and methodically before handing it back to her.

  “That was just one of many complaints I had from her over the years. It got worse when she started – um – working with Barnes.”

  Cammie smiled. “Yeah, the whole town knows about her – um – working with Barnes.” They laughed.

  “Don’t know what Bill saw in her.”

  She shrugged. “He was lonely.”

  Jessie looked about. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.”

  “So what happened between her and Steepman?”

  Jessie sat back in his chair and took a sip of his iced tea. “She hired Steepman to paint the gardening shed in her backyard. She picked a color that, according to her, had to match the color of the main house. As if anyone would see it, or care. As you saw in the report, when Steepman finished, she was upset it wasn’t the correct color. He was willing to repaint it any color she wanted, but it was going to cost her extra. That’s where the kerfuffle started. She refused to pay, he refused to work. At first it was a war of words. Until the day he went over there and demanded to be paid for the work he’d done. She refused and it escalated. According to Steepman, he got so mad, he backed up his truck over her rose bushes.”

  “She claims he tried to run her over.”

  Jessie chuckled. “Between you and me, can’t say I blame him if he really did try. Imagine, saying it was his fault when she was the one who chose and bought the paint. She was ready to haul him to small claims court. I managed to talk her out of it by appealing to her overly inflated ego.”

  “How did it all turn out?”

  “She ended up paying him three-quarters of what she owed him and he replanted the bushes.”

  “Did she have any more altercations with Steepman?”

  “They steered clear of each other after that. Better for them. Better for the town.”

  “Tell me, Jessie, if you had to guess, who do you think killed George Peabody?”

  He thought long and hard about her ques
tion. The day was hot and growing hot. Just as she thought she’d faint if she waited any longer, she was about to take her leave when he said, “The only two people who had an issue with George were Bill and Margo. Bill because of the election, and the fact that he was canoodling with George’s wife, and Margo because she found someone better, someone more powerful who looked better on her arm than George ever did.”

  “Thanks Jessie.” She stood up to leave.

  “Cammie, do you mind if I ask why you’re looking at that incident. I heard Steepman died of a heart attack.” She gave him a look that said it all. “Ah. Well, can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “Why?”

  “I knew his little hobby was going to bite him in the butt one day. Just never thought it would actually kill him.”

  “We’re trying to keep his manner of death under wraps for now.”

  “Totally understand. Good luck.” He looked up at her and smiled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but with the deaths we’d had lately, starting with Eli Kelley, I’m glad you’re sheriff and not me.”

  “Thanks, I think,” she smiled back.

  She headed back to her vehicle and was thinking about Jessie’s words as she pulled out of the driveway. Halfway down the road, a thought occurred to her that made her turn around and head in the opposite direction.

  Twenty minutes later, she arrived at Sally Nichols’ house. Running up the walkway, she rang the doorbell.

  “Sheriff, how are you?” Sally asked as she answered the door.

  “I’m fine. I was hoping you could answer a question for me regarding Pookie.”

  “Pookie?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yes. When I was at Margo’s house a few weeks ago, I noticed Pookie had her right leg shaved. What happened to her?”

  “She needed to have some dental work done. She’d broken a tooth and Dr. Logan recommended we pull it before it infected her gums. Animals aren’t like people. They’re not going to sit still while you poke around in their mouths. She had to be put under anesthesia, so Dr. Logan shaved her leg in order to insert the IV tube. I was on pins and needles the whole time.”

  “So it was you who brought her in for the procedure?”

  “I wanted to, but I was called into work for an emergency meeting. Margo was nice enough to take her in for me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Before Sally could ask her why she was asking such questions, Cammie got back into her vehicle and drove over to Dr. Logan’s. She was shown into his office a few moments later.

  “Margo Peabody brought Pookie in for a dental procedure last month, is that correct?”

  “Yes, I remember. Pookie ended up sinking her teeth into my vet tech’s arm.”

  “Is there any way Margo could have had access to your medicine cabinet?”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Can you show me the examination room she was in?”

  Logan showed her into one of the small rooms. There was a door with a small window on each end. One window looked out to the reception area while the other looked into the lab. “Can you recall what kind of day it was? Was it busy? Quiet?”

  “Let me pull up that day on the calendar.” He went over to the computer and in a few moments, he was looking at the list of appointments for the day. “I honestly don’t see how she could have…” His voice trailed off as he stared at the computer. “Oh my,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What happened?” Cammie pressed.

  “Mrs. Peabody had some questions regarding the procedure, so we asked her to wait in the examination room. I was about to go in when we had two emergencies. Mrs. Patterson’s son brought in the family dog who had been hit by a car, while Mr. O’Reilly’s beagle arrived with a muzzle full of porcupine quills. It was so chaotic, we had to ask the delivery man to come back the next day.”

  “So no one was overseeing the cabinet.”

  He looked at Cammie. “We were all trying to save those dogs’ lives.”

  “Could you have gotten the medication you needed for the dogs out of the cabinet and perhaps left it unlocked during all that commotion?”

  “I suppose it’s possible.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “Do you honestly believe Mrs. Peabody capable of doing such a thing?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

  Her next stop was Bill’s house. It had taken her a few days to reach a point where she could speak to him without going for his jugular. As it was, he wasn’t exactly happy to see her when he answered the door.

  “What do you want now?” He asked sharply.

  “You’ve been withholding a great deal of information since this investigation started. It needs to stop, or I’ll have no choice but to arrest you for obstruction of justice. Which is actually what I should do anyway.”

  “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Cammie pushed past him into his foyer. “Is there anything you want to tell me about Reginald Steepman?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Then let me refresh your memory. You were seen visiting him every few months. Jeez Bill, you were seen visiting him on the day he died! What was that all about? Were you paying him a monthly stipend like you were Margo?”

  “Why in heaven’s name would I pay that little pervert any money?”

  “Because he may have been blackmailing you. Because maybe he saw something in the woods that went beyond your meeting with George. Because maybe he saw you killing George.”

  Bill’s face turned purple with rage. “How many times do I have to tell you that I did not kill George Peabody!”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me you were seeing Steepman?”

  “Because I see a lot of people. Do you want me to provide you a list?”

  “Only if anybody on that list has died recently!” Maybe she should have waited another week to get her emotions under control. She took a deep breath and just barely managed to calm down. Somewhat. “Why Steepman?”

  “I thought I could convince him to stop peering into women’s windows. This is a peaceful, safe, family oriented town. The last thing I needed was hearing complaints about him peeking into windows. I realize now he needed psychiatric help. But at the time, I thought I could convince him to stop. And he would. For a few months anyway.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I should have gone to Jessie, then to you. But, I don’t know. I felt more sorry for him than anything else. I convinced myself that if I continued to speak with him, he’d eventually stop.” He looked at her. “Why are you asking me about Steepman? And what do you mean about him blackmailing me?” His eyes suddenly snapped open. “Jesus, he didn’t die of a heart attack, did he? He was murdered because he saw who killed George!”

  “I’m not at liberty to say,” she replied.

  “Good Lord, the murderer is still around,” he cried out in a panicked voice. “He’s still at large here in Twin Ponds!”

  “Don’t get hysterical.”

  “What if this person murders someone else? We’ll have complete chaos.”

  “Will you calm down?”

  “You’ve got to find George’s killer as soon as possible. We can’t let this go on.”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? Twiddling my thumbs?” She snapped angrily. “Look,” she said in a barely controlled voice. “I’m tired of you not being completely honest with me. The more you withhold, the harder you’re making my job of finding the killer. And the longer it’s taking to make an arrest.”

  His hands were visibly shaking as he raked them through his hair. “Yes, yes, you’re right. I should have told you about Steepman. I’m sorry.”

  “Didn’t you think it odd that his house was full of such expensive items?”

  Bill shook his head. “I just assumed he’d gotten a large settlement for his back injury.”

  “Did he ever talk to you about that injury?”

  “He was very closed mouthed about it. He mentio
ned in passing one day that he’d gotten hurt on the job. He never mentioned it again and I didn’t ask. I didn’t want us to get sidetracked from the reason I was there – to convince him to stop peeping in women’s windows.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have wasted my time. What I should have done was get him into counseling.”

  “You think?”

  To her surprise, he grabbed her hands. “You’ve got to do whatever you can to catch this killer. This town has been through enough. We don’t need another serial killer roaming our streets.”

  “Then is there anything else you need to tell me?”

  For a moment, she saw a look of uncertainty in his eyes. As if he was trying to decide whether he should say something more. Unfortunately, the look disappeared as he let go of her hands.

  “There isn’t.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Again there was a slight hesitation. “I’m sure.”

  By the time Cammie left Bill’s, she was fuming over what she saw as his refusal to come clean with her. She just knew there was something he was withholding, some piece of information he couldn’t share. If she were smart, she’d turn around and arrest his fat ass.

  But she held back.

  Was it because she had no concrete proof he’d murdered George? Everything she had was circumstantial. Yes, he’d met the victim in the woods – the same woods where what was left of George was discovered. But without the exact date of death, she couldn’t say if George had died that night, the next night or a month later.

  Or was she reluctant to arrest Bill because if she was wrong, and he was innocent, it would destroy the life she’d built for herself in Twin Ponds?

  That was a question she didn’t want to answer. Because if it was true, then she was a coward and, as Margo had railed at her, not fit to wear the uniform. The law was supposed to be the great equalizer. And just because Bill was the mayor, it didn’t make him exempt from the law.

  So just why was she holding back?

  Before she could analyze it further, the radio went off in the Explorer. She quickly picked it up.

  “What’s up, Emmy?”

  “Sheriff, you better get over to Jim Newton’s place. He’s been attacked.”