Diane shrugged. ‘‘Cooling the mark. Showing how generous she really is, to take attention off the fact that the boys weren’t getting anything and she was getting so much. And it could be that she identifies with the daughter and maybe the mother.’’
‘‘You’re good at this,’’ said Kingsley.
‘‘I’m becoming cynical, is what I am,’’ said Diane. ‘‘We were right; she had killed before. This deadly staph infection of Redding’s sounds very much like the tetanus method she used with Archer O’Riley.’’
‘‘I noticed that too,’’ said Kingsley.
‘‘You said you have some news,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I do. I showed a linguist the written entries in Clymene’s scrapbooks. There isn’t much, but he identified some wording in the archaeology-theme scrapbook that is pretty specific to a place. In one of the photographs the archaeology crew are receiving mail. The text says, ‘The mail was just called over.’ ’’
‘‘I’ve never heard that expression,’’ said Diane.
‘‘It’s unique to the Outer Banks of North Carolina,’’ he said. ‘‘I think we may know where she is from.’’
Diane looked up as the door opened. Jin’s head peeked in.
‘‘Hi. I found a relative of the triplets. Interested?’’
Chapter 44
‘‘So,’’ said Frank, sitting down on the couch and pulling Diane into his arms, ‘‘you’re going on a road trip tomorrow.’’
‘‘Plane trip. New Bern, North Carolina. About five hundred miles from here,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Kingsley wants to interview her as soon as possible and not give her any advance notice. He doesn’t want to give her the chance to back out of seeing us, or possibly even notify Clymene.’’
‘‘And she is?’’ he asked.
‘‘Carley Volker. She had her complete DNA profile posted on one of those ancestry Web sites. Jin did a good job finding her. It’s not as easy as simply matching charts. There’s a lot of mathematical probability that goes into finding common alleles among relatives.’’
‘‘So tell me what you know,’’ he said.
Diane liked to talk cases out with Frank. He had a way of asking questions that made her think.
‘‘Not a lot that we know. A lot we have some good guesses about. One of the problems is that they are identical triplets. Some of the photographs we’re finding may not be Clymene, but one of her sisters. Hell, for all I know they may all be in this together—three little black widows all raking in the money.’’
‘‘So, what do you think you know?’’ said Frank.
‘‘For the sake of argument, I’ve decided Clymene must be about thirty-five years old, so that’s my base.’’
Diane sat up and took a sip of wine. She had made one of her famous three-cheese-and-meat lasagnas for dinner and Frank had opened a bottle of wine. She took another sip before she spoke again.
‘‘In 1987, Clymene was with a man named Simon Greene, aka Jurgen Heinrich, possibly somewhere in Europe. He was using her in porno movies. Kade couldn’t find any earlier photographs of her, but that doesn’t really mean anything.’’
‘‘So, 1987 is the first date she appeared on your radar. She would have been how old then?’’ said Frank.
‘‘Fifteen. We suspect her father sold her around that time, possibly much earlier. He probably saw her as just a spare. After all, he had two more just like her,’’ said Diane.
‘‘You feel sorry for her?’’ asked Frank.
‘‘I feel sorry for the terrible things done to her, the chance for a normal life taken from her,’’ she said. ‘‘I feel sorry for that little fifteen-year-old. I don’t feel sorry for the murderer she’s become.’’
‘‘Why don’t you go over your timeline with me?’’ he said, rubbing her shoulders.
‘‘In 1991 Greene was murdered, burned alive. We think by Clymene, but we have no proof,’’ said Diane. ‘‘She would have been nineteen at the time—old enough to defend herself and to make it on her own.’’
‘‘It could be argued she was just defending herself. Found the opportunity to escape from her captor,’’ said Frank. ‘‘If it were Star, I would expect her to fight . . .’’
‘‘I know,’’ said Diane. ‘‘And I agree, if the killing had stopped there.’’
‘‘That was 1991. What next?’’
‘‘The next time we pick her up is six years later in 1997 and her name is Kathy Delancy Bacon and she is married to Grant Bacon of Richmond, Virginia. He died in a boating accident.’’
‘‘Wealthy husband number one,’’ said Frank.
‘‘Four years later, in 2001, she is Estelle Redding and married to Glenn Redding of Seattle, Washington. He dies of a rampant staph infection and leaves her two hundred million dollars. In 2004 she is Clymene Smith Carthwright and married to Robert Carthwright of the Atlanta Carthwrights. He dies when a car he was working on falls off its jack and crushes him to death. Then in 2006 she is Clymene O’Riley, married to Archer O’Riley here in Rosewood, and he dies of tetanus. That’s her history as we know it,’’ said Diane.
‘‘The events in your timeline are located all across the country and in Europe. You said the epigenetic profile prepared by Jin indicates that Clymene was separated from her sisters and moved around for a number of years, but that the other sisters stayed in closer proximity to each other. That would lend support to the conclusion that the woman in your timeline of events is in fact Clymene and not her sisters,’’ said Frank.
‘‘I feel fairly confident the timeline belongs to Clymene, but I like to keep my mind open for other possibilities. Clymene does have an unusual capacity to surprise.’’
‘‘More wine?’’ asked Frank.
Diane shook her head and snuggled back into Frank’s arms. ‘‘This is cozy,’’ she said.
‘‘You know, you could have it on a more regular basis,’’ he said.
‘‘What do you mean?’’ she said.
‘‘You know what I mean. You need a home. Move in here. This is a big house. You can have your own space if that makes you feel easier about it. You can have the whole upstairs if you want it.’’
Diane was silent for several moments. It sounded like such a commitment—moving into Frank’s house. On the other hand, it felt really good nestled against Frank. She would like coming home to that.
‘‘I’m not hearing you say anything,’’ he said. ‘‘You need a place to stay while you look for a house. Just take your time looking. Try it out here for a while. You might like it. Besides,’’ he added, ‘‘I need someone who can cook lasagna like that.’’
Diane laughed and started to push him away, but he kissed her.
‘‘This is nice,’’ she said after a moment.
‘‘It’s more than nice,’’ he said. He rubbed his thumb across her lips. ‘‘It feels right, doesn’t it?’’
‘‘I’ll stay here while I’m looking,’’ she said.
‘‘Okay, I’ll take that as a yes,’’ he said and kissed her again.
‘‘I already have a lot of my things here,’’ she said.
‘‘See, it’s already working out,’’ said Frank.
‘‘You’re good to talk to,’’ she said. ‘‘This thing with Clymene and the artifacts have my mind completely occupied.’’
‘‘You think she’s a sociopath?’’ said Frank.
‘‘She says not,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Would you believe a sociopath?’’ asked Frank.
‘‘That’s the thing about Clymene. It’s easy to fall into believing her. And it’s not the big things; it’s the smaller ones, the subtleties, like her giving the money to Redding’s daughter and ex-wife. Was that sincere or just part of her act to make people believe in her? The same with her concern for Grace Noel and Eric Tully’s daughter. She really did
the daughter, and I believed it,
mene’s special gift,’’ said Diane.
seem concerned for but subtlety is
Cly
‘‘Interesting case. I can see why Kingsley is fascinated by her. She must be a profiler’s dream girl. I’m going to get some ice cream,’’ he said. ‘‘Want some?’’
‘‘Yes, please. What kinds do you have?’’
Diane knew he had more than one flavor. Frank always got more food than he needed, just so he’d have lots of choices. She supposed that was why he had such a large freezer on his back porch.
Frank’s kitchen matched the rest of the house. The cabinetry was dark wood similar to the Queen Anne style of the house. His appliances were bright white and the floor was a deep green slate. It was a comfortable kitchen to cook in. Certainly more comfortable than the small kitchen in her apartment.
‘‘How about rum raisin?’’ he said.
‘‘Sounds fine.’’
Diane watched as he got two pints out and opened
them and gave her a spoon.
‘‘Out of the carton?’’ she said.
‘‘Of course. Only way to eat ice cream.’’ He
grinned, and they sat in the kitchen around the island and ate ice cream.
‘‘I won’t be able to eat all of this,’’ she said.
‘‘Save it for later. How is your artifact problem coming?’’ he asked.
‘‘It’s not. It’s at a complete standstill. The good news is that nothing directly implicates the museum or any of us. The bad news is that it doesn’t clear our reputation. Frankly I’m not sure what the FBI guy is doing. He’s spent a lot of time on the Clymene case.’’
‘‘The Clymene case? Why?’’ asked Frank, savoring a spoon of ice cream.
‘‘Actually, that’s not true. He and Ross Kingsley are friends and he visited with Ross a while. He got the idea that Clymene might be behind the artifact thing. She does know about archaeology, but . . .’’ Diane shrugged.
‘‘You don’t think so?’’ he asked.
‘‘I don’t know. It’s as good a theory as anything else we have, which is nothing,’’ she said. ‘‘It’s felt like a game from the beginning. So did the thing with the blood in my apartment. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything going on was a series of moves in a game.’’ Diane shook her head. ‘‘This ice cream is really good.’’
‘‘You’ve never had this flavor?’’ he asked.
The phone rang. It felt like an unwelcome intrusion. Diane realized she liked being alone here with Frank. He answered the phone and gave it to her.
‘‘Anne Pascal,’’ he said.
‘‘One of my board members.’’ She took the phone.
‘‘Diane. Hi. David Goldstein gave me your number. He asked me to help find out what teacher was using that list of spelling words. Your life is so interesting,’’ she said.
Yes, my life is a Chinese curse, she thought. ‘‘We very much appreciate your help,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Were you able to find anything?’’
‘‘Yes, I did. I began by matching the words to a book. Spelling words usually come from a particular book the kids are reading that week. I made a call to a school librarian friend of mine and we figured out the book David’s list of words came from is Jack Story and the Big Red Ball. Then I called some reading teachers and asked who was using that book recently, and . . . Well, the end result is I found out those were last Monday’s spelling words in Mrs. Coker’s class at Jewel Elementary in Adamsville. I talked with her and asked for a list of her kids, but she was kind of funny about that because the list was going to the police. I’m sorry.’’
‘‘That’s all right. That’s understandable. I’m amazed that you were able to find the teacher and classroom. You’ve been a tremendous help,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I don’t think we could have done it without you.’’
‘‘Oh, it was fun. Kind of put on my Miss Marple thinking cap, you know. Thank you for asking me. And I also want to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed being on the board of the museum. I just love that place,’’ she said.
‘‘I’m surprised you aren’t wondering what in the world I got you into,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Oh, no. I have to say, I’ve really enjoyed your interaction with Thomas Barclay. He’s on the school board too, you know. He loves to browbeat teachers. I’ve heard ‘when I was in school’ so many times. I don’t know why some people who are successful in one thing think they know how to do everything. I’m afraid he just sees teachers as overeducated babysitters,’’ she said. ‘‘But I didn’t call you to rant about Thomas Barclay.’’
‘‘I’m hoping Barclay will adapt. The museum board isn’t like the other boards he’s served on,’’ said Diane.
‘‘You’ll let me know how this thing with the child and the spelling words turns out, won’t you?’’
‘‘Yes, I certainly will,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Thank you again for your help.’’
‘‘One of my board members,’’ said Diane when she got off the phone. ‘‘She found the teacher who assigned the list of spelling words indented on the paper used to write the note that came with the money.’’
‘‘That lived in the house that Jack built?’’ said Frank. ‘‘What money?’’
‘‘I haven’t told you about the money? The guy who’s been attacking me sent me four thousand dollars,’’ she said.
Frank stared at her for a moment, ice cream dripping off his spoon. ‘‘Four thousand dollars? Why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t have to cook dinner; you could have taken us out to someplace nice,’’ he said. ‘‘Why did he send you money?’’
‘‘I don’t know, but he included a note with the word bitch written on it in capital letters. On the page of the pad above the sheet he wrote the note to me on, a kid had written a list of first-grade spelling words and it made an indentation in the notepaper,’’ she said. ‘‘Using some fancy equipment, David was able to read the words from the indentation and he asked our schoolteacher board member for help in finding out where the spelling words came from.’’
Diane realized that a lot had happened since she last spoke with Frank. She told him about the DNA found on the hairs caught in Andie’s purse matching blood found on one of the money wrappers.
‘‘It looks as though he thinks you’re blackmailing him,’’ said Frank.
‘‘It does look that way,’’ she said. ‘‘I have no idea how I could have left that impression with him. All I did was bite, kick, and scratch him.’’ She put the lid back on her ice cream container and put it back in the freezer.
‘‘So, you think he has a child in the first grade and you’re trying to track him down by finding the child,’’ said Frank.
‘‘That’s the plan. I thought I might recognize the name of one of the children in the class.’’
‘‘Your board member said the list came from a teacher in Adamsville,’’ said Frank. ‘‘That’s the same county as the prison.’’
‘‘Yes, it is,’’ said Diane. She washed her spoon and put it away. ‘‘So there is a connection there.’’
‘‘You might see if the teacher has a child with the last name of Tully in her class,’’ he said.
Diane stared at him. ‘‘I didn’t think of that. Until tonight I’d put Grace Noel in the back of my mind. Eric Tully has a daughter about that age. Do you think Clymene could have somehow . . .’’ Diane paused, still staring at Frank.
‘‘You said everything felt like a game—like everything that’s happened was a move. I think your instincts are right. Everything has been a game to maneuver you into a corner so Clymene could get away—and maybe exact a little revenge to boot.’’
‘‘You think Clymene is manipulating Tully?’’ said Diane.
‘‘This is just a guess,’’ said Frank. ‘‘I may be all wrong.’’
‘‘But it makes sense,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Do you think she is behind the artifact problem too?’’
‘‘I don’t know. That seems like it would involve more people to carry out. I bet that Clymene only trusts her sisters—and this lone male, whoever he is. I ca
n’t see her trusting a third party much at all, certainly not with anything that could be traced back to her.’’
‘‘I need to call Garnett,’’ said Diane.
She went into the living room and dialed Garnett’s cell phone. As it started to ring, she noticed the time. He was probably at home eating. She hung up.
‘‘I’ll call his office and leave a message,’’ she said.
As she reached for the phone, it rang.
‘‘Go ahead and answer it,’’ said Frank. ‘‘You live here now.’’
Diane picked up the phone and said hello.
‘‘Hey, is that you, Diane?’’ It was Garnett.
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