by Jessica Beck
“I don’t doubt that you are, since your cake is what killed him, but save your sympathy for someone who cares.”
“Asher!” Sylvia said harshly. “You mustn’t speak that way.”
“I refuse to rend my clothes over our loss, Mother,” he said. “Take off that ridiculous outfit, would you? Roy Thompson didn’t do us any favors in his entire life, and neither one of us owes him a second of mourning. He was never much of a father to me; we both know that, and there’s no sense in pretending otherwise.”
“It sounds as though you and your father had some real issues,” I said. “When was the last time you spoke to him?”
Sylvia hadn’t presented too difficult a challenge when we’d asked her in a roundabout way about the last time she’d seen her ex, but Asher wasn’t buying any of it. “Is that your not so subtle way of asking me for my alibi yesterday? What business is it of yours?”
It was clear I needed to match his tone, or we were never going to get anything out of him. “You said it yourself. Someone used our cake to kill your father. We need to find out who did it so we can clear our diner’s name.”
I wasn’t certain what I was expecting, but Asher’s sudden smile caught me off-guard. “Okay, now that I can understand. Self-preservation is an excellent motivation to nose around into something that isn’t any of your business.”
“So, then, you’ll give us your alibi?” Moose asked.
Asher’s smile never broke. “Nice try, but no, that’s not going to happen. I’ve learned that I rarely go wrong when I keep my mouth shut.” He turned to Sylvia and added, “And I suggest you adopt the same policy yourself, Mother.”
“Actually, she’s already spoken to us about your father,” I said.
That finally managed to break Asher’s grin. “What did you tell them?” he asked. Before she could respond, he added quickly, “Never mind; we can discuss it later.”
“Asher, there’s no reason not to tell people our alibis. After all, we were together for the entire morning yesterday. Since we didn’t go anywhere near that cake, we are above suspicion.”
He really didn’t like her telling us that. “Mom, would you mind if I borrowed your Jaguar? Mine’s in the shop.”
“Certainly,” she said. “Let me just get you my keys.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” He waited until his mother had left the room when he turned to us. “Thanks for coming by, but it’s time for you both to go now.”
“I understand,” I said. “After we say good bye to your mother, we’ll be on our way.”
Asher wasn’t having any of that, though. “I’ll be sure to convey your message.”
Moose looked at me, and I could see the question in his eyes without him having to say a word. He wanted to know if we should push back and stay, or allow ourselves to be ushered out.
After a moment of thought, I shook my head slightly. There was no use getting on this man’s bad side.
As Asher walked us out the door, I said, “I look forward to seeing you again soon. You really should come back by the diner sometime.”
“How can I go back if I’ve never been there before?” he asked, and then closed the door between us.
“That was one of the slickest bum’s rushes I’ve ever been given,” Moose said. “I’ve got a hunch that the son is quite a bit more formidable than the mother. That particular apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it?”
“I’m not so sure that Asher’s the one running things. I had a hunch that Sylvia was playing us all along,” I said. “If you ask me, she could be more devious than her son.”
“Maybe so, but either way, we’re going to have a hard time cracking those two nuts.”
I nodded in agreement as I said, “At least we finally got to speak with two of our suspects.”
“Sure, but next time, I want to tackle them alone,” Moose replied.
“You’re not doing anything without me,” I answered firmly.
“I didn’t mean by myself,” Moose said. “I meant separately. We should really try to split them up if we’re going to do any good. We might be able to trap Sylvia if she’s still trying to sell her ‘grieving widow’ act, and if it’s just Asher, he might just be too clever for his own good.”
“Okay, that all sounds good,” I said. “I just hope we figure out how to do it. Did you notice that I put the emphasis on we?”
Moose laughed a little as we got into his truck. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I wouldn’t do anything without you, Victoria, and you know it.”
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to remind you now and then,” I said with a smile of my own.
“Got it,” Moose said as he started the engine. “Where should we go now?”
“Since we’re in Molly’s Corners, why don’t we go ahead and try to see James Manchester again,” I said. “Do you think there’s a chance he’ll agree to see us?”
“I’ve got an idea that might help accomplish that,” Moose said.
“Care to share it with me?”
“Let me play with it while we drive, and I’ll let you know if it’s any good when we get there,” my grandfather answered. I didn’t know if he was being coy, or if he really hadn’t fully formulated his idea yet. Either way, I decided to respect his request, and we were mostly silent on the drive to James Manchester’s office.
When we got there, Moose parked the truck, but I turned to him before he could get out on his side. “Okay, I was patient, but that’s about all gone. What’s our plan?”
“I think a mysterious hint that we know more than we actually do is our best bet,” Moose said. “If we leave things vague but menacing, we might just earn ourselves a direct audience with the man.”
“This ought to be good,” I said. “It’s your turn to take the lead, and to be honest with you, I’m looking forward to seeing it. Good luck.”
He grinned at me as he tapped his temple. “With this brain, who needs luck?”
“Us, maybe?” I asked, and then I couldn’t keep my laugh contained.
He just grinned, and then my grandfather said, “Doubt me if you will, but just watch the master at work.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said as I followed Moose inside. The office was nice enough, but there was nothing that shouted this man was one of affluence. In fact, it was all rather common, from the generic paintings on the wall to the slightly used furniture. Was it all some kind of smokescreen, or did James Manchester have less assets than we’d all been led to believe?
There was an older woman sitting at the receptionist’s desk, and there was nothing flashy about her.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“We need to speak with your boss,” Moose said.
“In regard to?” she asked gently.
“Murder,” Moose said succinctly. I waited for him to embellish his statement, but he simply stood there looking down at her, as though he had some kind of right or authority to be there.
She finally realized that he was finished talking. The receptionist picked up her phone, whispered something into it, and then said vaguely, “Have a seat, please.”
After we took up positions by the office door, I looked at Moose and nearly asked him if this was the sum total of his grand plan when he caught my eye and shook his head slightly. Okay, we were going to play this silent and mysterious.
I could do that.
Nine minutes later, I was ready to tell Moose that it had been a nice try, but he really needed to come up with something else, but I held my tongue. I knew that my grandfather had a great deal less patience than I did as a general rule, and if he could take it, then so could I.
Four minutes after that, I was beginning to have my doubts when the receptionist picked the telephone up again unbidden, whispered something else into it, and then hung up, offering us a quick frown as she did so.
Thirty seconds later, James Manchester came out through the door.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, tho
ugh for one second, I’d caught a hint of surprise in his glance. “Come right back.”
We followed him through the dividing door into the heart of the office. This had been decorated more recently than the outer space, with a substantially larger budget. Fine leather chairs were nestled on a lovely and expensive rug, and the desk was mahogany. After we were all seated, Manchester said, “I’m surprised to see you both this far away from the diner. Delores tells me that you were quite melodramatic when you first came in. You gave her more excitement than she’s had in years.”
“There wasn’t anything special about what we said,” Moose replied. “It was true, though. We’re here to talk to you about murder.”
“Don’t be a fool, Moose. I didn’t kill Roy Thompson. Why would I?”
“Come on, we heard you threaten him ourselves,” I said.
“If you recall, I didn’t see him yesterday in his office. It turns out that was after the man was already dead, or did you choose to blank that part out?” Manchester asked. “Think about it. If I’d been the one who poisoned him, wouldn’t I know that he wouldn’t be in his office when I barged in there?”
“It could have all been a clever ruse to throw the police off your trail,” I said.
James Manchester chuckled at that. “Trust me, I’m not that clever.”
“You were at the celebration earlier in the day, though, weren’t you?” I asked.
“Maybe I stopped and looked around on my way to Roy’s office,” he admitted. “I checked out the food, a few of the craft tables, and listened to the band. I didn’t see Roy, though, or your cake either, for that matter.”
“How could you have missed it?” I asked. “We had it set up on the square.”
“Who knows? Maybe I did see it, but if I did, it never registered with me. Surely you have more than that to come in here accusing me of murder.”
“Who was accusing you of anything?” Moose asked quietly. “We said we wanted to discuss murder with you, not accuse you of it.”
“Delores must have misunderstood,” Manchester said.
“You have to admit that you were pretty upset when we saw you yesterday, James,” Moose said.
“That? I was just blowing off a little steam. Roy and I did a few deals together in the past, but this was the first one that lost me money. I was going to yell at him a little, he’d shrug it off, and then we’d move onto our next deal. You can’t worry about every penny when you’re investing as much as I do.”
“It still can’t be easy losing some of it,” Moose said. “I know that I feel the pinch every time one of my stocks goes down.”
“If you can’t afford to lose it, you shouldn’t be gambling with it,” he said expansively. The telephone rang at that moment, and Manchester picked it up and held a whispered conversation. After a few moments, he hung up and grinned at us. “Apparently the first string is here.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Sorry, I tend to use sports analogies when I talk. Sheriff Croft is here to ask me a few questions. I’d offer you the chance to go out the back way, but we don’t have one.”
I doubted that it was true, but I wasn’t about to call him on it. “We’re fine seeing him. The sheriff knows exactly what we’re doing,” I said.
“Then this shouldn’t be a problem for anyone.”
I stood, and Moose followed. “Not at all,” my grandfather said.
Sheriff Croft’s eyebrows shot up for a moment when he saw us in James Manchester’s office, but he didn’t say anything at first.
“Sheriff,” Moose said as he waved two fingers at the man.
“Would you two mind hanging around outside for a few minutes?” the sheriff asked. “I shouldn’t be long, and there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
I pointed to my watch. “We’ve been most careful with the time.”
He shook his head. “That’s not it. Something’s come up, and I thought you should know about it. I won’t be long.”
Moose and I left, and as we walked out of the office, I suddenly turned and found Delores watching us carefully. She looked away the second that she realized I’d seen her, but it was too late. Evidently, we’d sparked some interest from the woman. Or was she just doing her employer’s bidding by keeping a close eye on us?
“What do you think he wants with us?” Moose asked once we were out by the truck. “That was clever how you got that dig about the time into your response without giving anything away.”
“I’ve been known to be crafty when the occasion called for it,” I said. “As to what he has to say, I don’t have any more idea than you do.”
“Then there’s not much we can do but wait for him out here, is there? It seems like that’s all we’re good for lately,” Moose said.
At least the sheriff was as good as his word. Twelve minutes later, he came out the front door of the office, and based on the expression on his face, the interview hadn’t gone exactly as he’d hoped that it would.
That didn’t bode well for my grandfather and me.
Chapter 10
“I’m guessing that didn’t go as well as you’d hoped it would,” my grandfather said before I could get a word out on my own. “Manchester thinks he’s above all of this, doesn’t he? He treated us like we were some kind of joke.”
“That man can talk five minutes and not say a thing,” the sheriff said as he leaned forward over the truck-bed, planting his elbows on the frame of it. I’d seen it done a thousand times. A great many men from the South never spoke face to face. They all seemed more comfortable leaning against some part of a pickup truck, their eyes rarely making contact. “Every time I’ve tried to pin him down about an alibi, he manages to say a whole lot of words that don’t add up to much.”
“Well, if it helps,” I said, “we saw him in Roy’s office not long after he was poisoned. He was extremely upset with the man. I guess he could have been acting, but if he was, if fooled me. He admitted that he walked around the fair a little before he got to Roy’s office, but he claimed that he didn’t see Roy, or the cake, for that matter.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Sheriff Croft said. “That was more than I managed to get out of him. He mostly just talked me around in circles.”
“I’m guessing that’s how he treats his business partners, too,” Moose said. “Can you imagine him in a room with Roy Thompson? That’s about as odd a couple as you’ll ever want to see.”
“I’ve got information that they did three deals together, but it’s kind of odd,” the sheriff said.
“What’s so odd about it?” I asked.
“The first two deals they made together generated a good amount of income for Manchester, doubling his investment both times. The third deal, the latest one that just blew up on him, cost him all that he’d earned plus every dime he’d invested before, and another ten grand of fresh money thrown into the mix.”
“Do you think Roy Thompson might have set him up?” Moose asked.
The sheriff shrugged. “I don’t have any proof one way or the other, but if I had to guess, I’m willing to bet that old James in there got his clock cleaned by a professional. It appeared that he was under the impression that he was the shark in the deal, but I’ve got a hunch that he was wrong.”
“I thought James Manchester was rich,” I said. “He could afford to lose that kind of capital, couldn’t he?”
“I don’t think affording it had anything to do with it,” the sheriff said. “You’ve met James Manchester, so you must have an idea of what he’s like, and from what you told me, you saw him pretty steamed yesterday in Roy Thompson’s office. Did he seem like a man who would take losing anything with a whistle and a smile?”
“Not a chance,” Moose said. “Is that why you wanted us to hang around, to talk about James Manchester?”
“No,” the sheriff said with the hint of a smile. “Part of it was just out of pure meanness. I wanted you both to cool your heels a little while
I did a little investigating.”
I shrugged. “But just a part of it, right?”
“Just a part. There’s been a development I thought you both might like to know about.”
That got my attention. Since when was the sheriff so interested in actively sharing information with us? “We’re happy to get any help you feel like giving us,” I said.
“My team has been checking folks who had cameras or cell phones who took pictures at the celebration yesterday,” he said. “That was one of the reasons we spoke to so many people after Roy was murdered.”
“That’s absolutely brilliant,” I said, meaning every word of it. Why hadn’t Moose or I thought of that? It reminded me that, as good as my grandfather and I were at digging into murder, Sheriff Croft was certainly no amateur.
“Is that sarcasm, Victoria?” the sheriff asked, his voice suddenly hard.
“No, sir, it is open admiration. Did you have any luck?”
He appeared to accept the compliment, and then he shrugged. “We got the scene with you and Roy on film from some high school girl’s video phone. She seemed to think that it was pretty hilarious.”
I was suddenly embarrassed yet again about the way I’d acted. “Why would she want to tape that?” I asked.
“She didn’t start out filming you. Her mother was at home sick with the flu, and she wanted to see what was going on at the festival, so her daughter took some video of the square. She was filming when she saw you and Roy, and we’ve got pretty good visual proof that you didn’t dose that cake with rat poison while it was in your possession. If you did it, you managed to fool all four cops who’ve watched the video.”
“At least that’s good news,” I said, though I must not have showed much enthusiasm.
“Funny, but I thought you’d be a little happier about us clearing your name,” the sheriff said.
“I’m happy enough about it, but then again, I already knew that I didn’t kill Roy, so all your proof does is clear me from your suspect list.”