by Jessica Beck
“How could you do that? Was he ever late with his rent?” Grace asked.
“No, but my attorneys were smart enough to put a noise provision into the lease, and he constantly violated it. Quiet time was from nine p.m. to eight a.m., and there was rarely a day that he didn’t break one end of it or the other.”
I wasn’t exactly certain that I could live up to those rigid standards, even with my odd working hours. If Benjamin Port was indeed half the carouser that I imagined him to have been, he wouldn’t have been there long. “How long exactly did he live here?” I asked.
“Precisely two months and eleven days,” she said promptly. “Do you know what he used to do? He’d leave a wooden wedge in the door downstairs so that he wouldn’t have to buzz his guests in! Can you imagine? I lived in fear of being murdered in my sleep the entire time that he lived here. Try to grasp how surprised I was when he was the one who died instead.”
“Betty, forgive me, but it’s odd that you’d remember the time he was here so exactly,” Grace said.
“That’s easy enough to explain. I looked it up when Dot called me earlier. I keep records of everything pertaining to the lofts.”
“You don’t happen to have a list of his visitors, do you?” I asked.
“Of course not,” she said, looking mildly outraged. “Suzanne, I’m not a snoop.”
“Of course you aren’t,” I said. “I was just wondering if you happened to notice anyone in particular, that’s all.”
“Well, I might have seen one or two of them on their way in or out,” she allowed.
“Would you care to share their names with us?” I asked.
“I don’t like gossip, but they certainly weren’t making any effort to hide themselves, so why should I? Let’s see. Hilda Fremont from the diner visited him quite often, as did Gabby Williams.” Betty hesitated a moment before asking, “You won’t tell her that I named her, will you? The woman can hold a grudge for an unbelievable length of time.”
I knew from firsthand experience how true that could be. “She won’t hear it from us.”
When Grace nodded in agreement, Betty went on. “Of course, his sister was here quite often as well. My, how the two of them used to fight.”
“Over his collection of girlfriends?” Grace asked.
“No, it was always about money. She claimed that he stole from her and the company they owned together. Imagine that. Taking money from his own sister.”
I’d seen worse between siblings in some of my past investigations, but I wasn’t about to get into that. “Did he argue with anyone else?”
“Not in the apartment, but he and Judge Hurley had a particularly nasty confrontation by the clock tower just before Benjamin died.”
“How do you happen to know that?” Grace asked.
“It was warm out, and I had the windows open, hoping for some kind of breeze. That was back when our air conditioning was on the fritz, so I took to sleeping with my windows open that entire summer. My, but the judge was mad at him.”
So far Betty hadn’t supplied us with anything that we hadn’t already known. It was turning out to look more and more like a wash when she suddenly remembered something else. Betty began to say something, but then she shook her head.
“Were you going to add something?” I asked.
“No. It’s probably nothing.”
“I wish you’d tell us,” I said. “It’s hard to judge how helpful even the slightest detail might be.”
“Well, in the spirit of full disclosure, I suppose that I should.”
“Go on,” I urged her gently.
“Suzanne, I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but just before Benjamin died, I happened to be awakened just after three in the morning by an ambulance driving past on its way to the hospital. I glanced out the window, but though the emergency vehicle was gone, I spied someone standing in the shadows by the clock, staring up at Benjamin’s apartment.”
“Did you happen to see who it was?” I asked.
“Yes, and it struck me as quite odd. I suppose that I’ve never been able to fully get it out of my mind, no matter how insignificant it might have been.”
“Who was it?” Grace asked a little more strongly, clearly getting impatient with Betty’s stalling tactics.
“I could swear that I saw George Morris standing there.”
“Are you absolutely certain of that?” I asked her. What reason in the world could the former police officer and our current mayor have for lurking in the shadows outside Benjamin Port’s apartment? Was there something we just weren’t getting? One thing was certain: we needed to ask George a few questions.
“Is that all you can tell us?” I asked Betty.
“I’m sorry, but that’s everything I can remember about that most unpleasant time. The poor ambulance workers had an extremely difficult time removing Benjamin’s body, since we don’t have elevator service in the building.”
“I’m sure that it was ghastly,” I said. “Thanks so much for your time. If you happen to think of anything else, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”
“Certainly. Give your mother my love.”
“I will,” I said.
As Grace and I descended the steps together, I asked her, “What do you think of that?”
“I think we need to do some follow-up with the mayor, and I mean now.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. “Can you even guess what it might mean?”
“I have a few ideas, but it’s nothing that I care to say out loud. I’m not exactly proud of my low opinion of humanity most of the time.”
“Including me?” I asked with a slight smile.
“No Suzanne, never you,” she said with the hint of a laugh.
I didn’t really feel like smiling, or laughing either, for that matter.
I had to ask someone I knew very well some very hard questions, and I was by no means sure that I was going to be happy with the answers.
Chapter 14
Luckily George was in his office, and better still, he had time for us. “What can I do for you two? You don’t happen to need my help with that murder case you’re both working on, do you?” Before the mayor had taken office, he’d assisted us on more cases than I could count. I’d relied heavily on his expertise, but since the day he’d been sworn in as mayor, I’d been reluctant to ask him for any help.
“In a way,” I said, trying to figure out how to handle my questioning delicately. George could still have a bit of a temper, even after he’d done his best to tone it down over the past few years. “We need to ask you something, but it’s not going to be easy.”
“You should know by now that you can ask me anything. I’m always willing to lend a hand to one of your investigations.”
“Suzanne, just ask him, okay?” Grace suggested, showing a little impatience of her own.
George frowned for a moment. “Why am I getting the feeling that you’re not here to ask me to use my talent for your cause?”
“George, we have an eyewitness who told us that you were stalking Benjamin Port just before he died. Is it true?”
“Yes, of course it is.”
“What?” For some reason, I’d expected him to deny the accusation.
“The truth of the matter is that I was keeping an eye on Port every free second I had when I wasn’t on duty.”
“Do you mind explaining why?” Grace asked.
“I’d be happy to. I got a tip from a confidential informant that Benjamin Port was trying to hire a hit man to kill his sister, Lisa. I figured if he knew that I was watching him, he wouldn’t go through with it. That’s why I wasn’t trying to hide the fact that I was onto him.”
“Why didn’t you just take it through regular channels?” Grace asked.
“I tried to do exactly that, but Sheriff Guthrie thought I was jumping at shadows. I asked him if I could investigate after Lisa Port Smith was dead, and he put me on the night shift in retaliation. I didn’t even mind. It gave me mo
re time during the day to tail Benjamin, and as I was patrolling the streets at night, I’d take my breaks and camp in front of his loft. He lived over the bank, you know.”
“We did know that,” I said. “Did anything ever come of it?”
“No, he died before his sister did, so I lost interest in the case. I briefly wondered if she took out a hit on him herself when you found that note yesterday, but I couldn’t imagine the circumstances that the two of them were plotting to kill each other independently. It’s just too much of a coincidence to swallow.”
“But what if Lisa didn’t hire someone else to do it? What if she decided to go the more direct route and get rid of her brother herself?” Grace asked.
“It’s a possibility. I suddenly realize that I should have told Jake about what happened back then. There was never any official police report filed, so he’d have no way of knowing. I wanted it on the record, but Guthrie wouldn’t let me.”
“Why not? Do you think he might have been protecting someone?”
George just laughed. “You wouldn’t ask me that if you’d known the man. Not only was he extremely lazy, but he hated paperwork in any way, shape, or form. It was sheer negligence; of that I’m positive. Hang on one second, would you?” The mayor dialed a phone number and then retold what he’d just revealed to us to my husband. After he hung up, he said, “He’s on his way to his meeting with Lisa Port Smith right now, so I got to him just in time.”
I’d wanted to be the one to ask her questions about her brother, but since I had no official status in the case, I’d have to leave that up to my husband. After Jake spoke to her, Grace and I might be able to interview her, but not until then.
“Now, is there anything else I can do for you two?” George asked us.
I was about to answer when my cellphone rang. It was Trish. Did she have news about Hilda? “No, that’s it. Thanks, Mr. Mayor. If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this.” I opened my phone and said, “Give me one second.”
“Okay,” Trish said, and I held the phone against my chest.
“I can see that you’re both busy,” he said as he dug back into the paperwork on his desk. “Come see me again if you need me.”
“Will do,” I said as we stepped outside. “Sorry about that,” I told Trish. “What’s up?”
“You need to come to the Boxcar right now,” she said.
“Why? What’s going on there?”
“I’ve got someone who wants to speak with you.”
“Did Hilda come back? You should really tell Jake.”
Trish sighed. “I tried to, but she wouldn’t let me. She’ll speak with you and only you. Maybe you can convince her to talk to your husband a little bit later, but for now, you’re it.”
“What about Grace?” I asked.
“Suzanne, I had trouble convincing her to speak to you. We’d better not push it.”
“Understood. I’ll see you there in two minutes.”
Grace had been standing by patiently, waiting for me to finish with my conversation. “What was that all about?”
“There’s good news and there’s bad,” I said. “Hilda’s back in town. She’s willing to speak with me, but only me. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, as long as we get the scoop before Jake, I’m okay with it. Besides, you’re going to tell me everything she says as soon as you’re finished, right?”
“If she’s okay with it,” I said, hedging my bets.
“Okay, I can live with that. Fine. You don’t even have to drop me off at home first. I can walk over to the house, and you can come by after you’re finished.”
“Thanks for understanding,” I said as I got into my Jeep and drove the hundred yards to the Boxcar Grill. Grace would have to walk about the same distance to get home, and if I cut through the park, I was even closer to the cottage I shared with Jake.
That was one thing that I loved about living in a small town: just about everything was close by.
I parked in the lot of the diner, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Grace walking home as I started to head up the stairs.
I never made it, though.
“Suzanne, over here,” I heard someone call me.
I looked around and saw Hilda standing near the edge of the building, peeking out just enough for me to see her.
“Are you okay?” I asked her as I joined her there.
“Not here. We need to get out of sight first.”
“We could always go to my place,” I suggested. I knew that Hilda was a murder suspect, but I’d known her for so long that I couldn’t imagine she’d be dangerous to me. I fully realized that was how some people got themselves killed, but I decided to risk it anyway.
“Are you sure you don’t mind being alone with me? I know what you must be thinking.” She looked positively harried, with her brown hair frizzled out and dark circles under her eyes that no concealer could disguise.
“I don’t see how that’s possible. I just want to talk to you, Hilda.”
“Fine, but not at your house. Let’s go to one of the benches over in the park. It looks like it’s about to rain, so the place is nearly empty.”
“We can do that,” I said.
After we found a suitable spot out of the line of sight of anybody at the Boxcar or on the road, we settled in to have a chat.
“First off, there’s something I need to ask you. Why did you run away when that confession turned up?” I asked her.
“I’m not stupid. I knew how it looked, Suzanne. I was one of the women dating Benjamin when he died. When everyone thought the poisoning was accidental, no one suspected me of anything, but I’ve lived in this town long enough to realize that as soon as word got out about the note you and Jake found, they’d be looking at me soon enough.”
“Do you have any idea who wrote the confession?” I asked her.
She looked hard at me before she answered. “Did I do it; is that what you mean? That’s really the question you’re dying to ask, isn’t it? Did I kill Benjamin Port and then confess it in that stupid time capsule?”
“Well, since you put the questions out there, did you?”
Hilda frowned at me for a moment, and then she surprised me by smiling softly. “I appreciate the fact that you’d ask me that to my face. Trish has always been your biggest fan, and I can see why.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, trying to act casual as I glanced around to see if anyone might be witnessing our conversation. There was something about Hilda’s demeanor that made me realize that I didn’t know her half as well as I thought I did. She might not be a coldblooded killer on a regular basis, but if she thought she was protecting herself, she might have enough incentive to get rid of me if it meant securing her own freedom. Maybe I’d been a little rash agreeing to meet with her after all.
“No, I didn’t poison Ben,” she said after a long pause. “Did I want to kill him when I first found out what he was up to with the other women in his life? I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t. But there was something about him. He had a hold over me that I couldn’t explain, and in the end, after a few shouting matches and more tears than I like to admit to, I finally realized that a part of him was better than none at all.” She frowned a moment before she continued. “I know how that must sound to you. You’re a strong and independent woman, but he had something that I desperately needed, and I couldn’t just throw it away. I decided to keep things the way that they were and hope that someday he’d come around to realize that I was everything that he needed. That day never came, though. Knowing that his poisoning was deliberate now, I’m angry all over again that someone took that time away from him—and us.”
“How could he have been poisoned?” I asked her. Her revelation was so raw, so open, that I didn’t know how to react to it. The best I could do was to move on with my questions and hope that I got something that Grace and I could use.
“Well, it wasn’t the chicken; I can guarantee you that. I was there when he found it on
the counter. Someone must have slipped in and left it for him, and when she realized that another woman was already there, she must have panicked and run.”
“How do you know for sure that it wasn’t the chicken that killed him?” I asked.
“He hated chicken, and anyone worth their salt would have known it. To Ben, only red meat was real meat. He wouldn’t touch poultry or pork in any way, shape, or form. When he saw the jar sitting there, he curled his lip and threw it away. The lid must have been loose, because chicken and the broth it had been canned in went everywhere. We cleaned it up as best we could, but I can assure you that he never took a bite of it.”
So that let the chicken canner off the hook, and Hillary Mast became a little less viable as a suspect, at least in my mind. “Do you have any idea what might have killed him?”
Hilda shook her head sadly. “I just figured he’d eaten something else that was bad. When the sheriff decided to latch onto the chicken, I wondered what had really killed him, but I was too numb to do anything about it. After all, Ben was gone at that point, you know? I was in a state of shock for a week after he died, and I didn’t start wondering what had really killed him until it was too late. His place was cleaned out and his body was cremated. After that, I tried to find a way to live with what had happened, but rarely has a day passed since that I haven’t thought about him at least once.”
“Hilda, who do you think might have killed him?” I asked her softly.
“I’ve had plenty of time to consider it since that note was discovered. I know for a fact that Ben was seeing Gabby Williams, and she’s capable of anything, in my opinion. Hillary Mast is not much better. At times I wondered if there was a third woman in the mix besides me, but if she existed, I never found out who she was. I had to wonder if she was married. How else could they keep their relationship a secret?”