Amaz'n Murder

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Amaz'n Murder Page 4

by William Maltese


  “It was simply a career move.” She wasn’t hot to discuss this, especially with Felix, especially here.

  “Expected him to beg you to stay, didn’t you, Carolyne?” It was a challenge. “Counted yourself chiefly responsible for all the successes of Ditherson/Santire, right? Didn’t you locate Habernia Carolyne-cornelius in the Begum’s garden; no matter Cornelius had put three years into cutting the legalities and red tape that put you two there at the right time? Didn’t you find the illusive Boletus Carolyne-cornelius; no matter that Cornelius’ friend of a friend of a friend got you access to that restricted Indian territory? You always figured Cornelius just a tag-along to be tolerated because he was such prime husband material.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” How many, besides Felix, saw things that way?

  “Surprised you, didn’t he?” Momentarily his headache, still pounding beneath the wispy strands of his almost bald head, was forgotten. “Not only made do without you but proved himself more the plant-hunter than you ever were. Where were you when he found Anemone cornelius from which Crystin Companies developed their breakthrough arthritis pill, or when he discovered Nymphaea cornelius to give Crystin its active ingredient for Pelincidrinal-Z14? You were so far faded into the backdrop that it must have been hard, after all your years of imagining yourself the key ingredient of that relationship, to take in the reality.”

  Carolyne was too stunned by his vindictiveness to offer any immediate rebuttal.

  “As for Charles, so long the ignored brother,” Felix continued, “he could only gain his bit of the limelight once Cornelius was dead. How frustrating it must be for him to have some plant that Cornelius stumbled upon two decades ago suddenly come into prominence as a possible cure for cancer, just because Melanie experimented with the properties of a musty flora specimen pressed for years in the dusty basement of the University of Washington? You think Charles wants us to find enough Lygodium cornelius to confirm something in it destroys malignant cells in rats and may do the same for people?”

  “He’s here to do just that!”

  “Except, we’re scooting on out of here, our supposed objective not met.”

  “You think we won’t be back to try again?”

  “Back to what? Whatever the potential of our illusive Lygodium cornelius, it will likely be the victim of Kyle Georni’s own personal slash and burn definition of progress. You think the authorities are going to renew our present permits, what with a possible murderer, let alone a man-eating jaguar, on the loose? This country is too indebted to U.S. banks, too hopeful that American aid is going to bail it out of its impossible financial predicaments, to ever risk the bad publicity that would attend the murder of prominent American scientists by man or beast. Melanie had trouble getting the permits in the first place.”

  Carolyne had quite enough and was finally recovered sufficiently to prove it. “People living in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones!”

  “Meaning?” He didn’t seem threatened; she’d soon fix that.

  “Whose name do you think was whispered to me as the ‘other’ man to whom Margaret was headed on that rainy night her car skidded off the road?” Carolyne had always wanted to believe Cornelius’ wife was the slut Carolyne had always imagined her to be, but she had, at the time, resisted and laughed in Charles’ face when he’d suggested Felix, this little nobody selected by Cornelius to fill the void left by Carolyne’s departure, was ever Margaret’s paramour.

  “What an obscene, filthy-minded, ludicrous suggestion!” Felix had taken way too long to formulate his response; even if he hadn’t (look how long it had taken Carolyne to muster any response during his verbal attack on her), she refused to grant him even the shadow of a doubt; bad-mouthing was a two-way street. Felix wasn’t finished: “Margaret was the finest woman I ever knew, and I resent your attempts to tar her reputation when she’s not alive to defend herself.”

  After all the bilge his sewer mouth had just spewed, did he really expect her to stop now? “Just the response I’d expect from the man who bedded Margaret because he was so jealous of Cornelius with whom he couldn’t compete in any way, shape, or form. The last thing you want is Cornelius to one-up you, once again, especially now, from the grave.”

  “You’re eaten by jealousy toward a woman whose only sin in living was to love and marry the man you’d laid claim to for yourself.”

  “And you’re a weak, no-chinned, no-account bastard who was too afraid to come out in the open about your sordid part in Margaret’s death for fear Cornelius would sack you on the spot and no one else would ever take you on.”

  For just a second, she thought she sensed something about him ready to scream, “Yes, by God, yes!” right in her face. She was disappointed and a little frightened by his, “If I did kill Gordon, I suggest you watch your tail, from here on out!” said just before he got up and stormed off to the other side of the campsite, everyone else not hearing his threat but wondering what in the hell he and Carolyne were up to.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Felix is a certifiable wretch!” Carolyne forked some of the Chicken Kiev that Charles had brought her; the food tasted as bland as it always did whenever Felix didn’t make it even more completely unpalatable.

  “I assume your reference goes above and beyond his questionable skills as a cook?” Charles sympathetic smile revealed white teeth all his own.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t witness our altercation while you played Betty Crocker for the second time in one day.” She knew better.

  “There was little chance of missing it, wouldn’t you say?” Charles worked his shoulders against the smooth trunk of the tree he used for support. “Hearing it was something else again, although the facial expressions and hand gestures did Marcel Marceau proud. Jungle clearings are notorious for poor acoustics, especially when the actors insist upon keeping down their conversation to whispers and hisses.”

  “Would you like a quick recap?”

  “Are you volunteering?”

  She gave him a quick summation.

  He surprised her with far less vehemence than her own. “I see where he might think that. Of me, I mean,” he quickly amended to exclude Carolyne from any such correct thinking by Felix. “I was admittedly nondescript while in my brother’s shadow.”

  Carolyne denied it, even if it was true: “Nonsense!”

  “Felix’s misconception is in assuming I minded all that much—all of the time. Actually, Cornelius was never one of those brothers who got off on sibling rivalry. He was always quick to point out to me that a lot of his success was based on the luck of being at the right places at the right times. If people liked to think it was otherwise, they were entitled. It was important, though, that I know differently, because, given the right set of circumstances, bound to come my way, sooner or later, I’d come into my own. His words, not mine; something special about him, especially as a brother, no doubt about it. To the end, I was flattered whenever he asked me to accompany him on an expedition, and I believed him when he insisted each trip prepared me for my own great contributions, someday. If I got down the basics, I’d be as ready for success as it would one day be ready for me.”

  He shoveled a particularly unappetizing lump of gooey chicken and ate it. “Not that I was always free of jealousy, resentment, and all those other monsters that creep into relationships, in general, and into family relationships, in particular. At times, I could, and did, bitch up a storm about my secondary role. I could, and did, at various times, blame my lack of success on my brother, on flat feet, on bad knees, on influenza, on malaria, on my frequent bouts of dysentery. I don’t suppose you ever noticed my tendency to bemoan my ills during the course of any given day.”

  “Can’t say as I have,” Carolyne lied through her teeth. She hadn’t expected validation of Felix’s slander and was put off by it.

  Charles’ laugh was one of his best qualities; he laughed now. It was a boom punctuated by an audible catch of breath, followed by an immediate repea
t. Carolyne pictured the very first lexicographer as he listened carefully to Charles’ laugh, then wrote: “Ha-ha!: an expression of surprise or joy.”

  The sounding never failed to make her smile, and this time was no exception. “So, maybe, I have heard you complain on occasion.”

  “It’s a habit I was unable to shake even when I finally did have a bit of luck. Remember my discovery of Fitzroya charlius, or is my unfortunate throw-me-a-rope slide off the side of that mountain really your only memory of our shared experiences in the Chilean wilds?”

  “You’re not the only one ever beset by bugaboos, like professional jealousy,” Carolyne was embarrassed to concede. “If I’d been two yards closer to that tree, it would be Fitzroya Carolyneus. I don’t doubt you think that petty, a few finds already accredited to me at the time, but I was in a dry spell, as you might remember, having severed my ties with Cornelius. A new discovery of pseudo larch would have done quite nicely for my ego.”

  “As if you’d come to the end of the line! I recall several new plants added to your roster after that.”

  “Never anything as important as Anemone cornelius or Nymphaea cornelius.”

  What could Charles say to that? Cornelius held the record for discoveries used in major medical breakthroughs. There was a time when everyone expected his every find to provide some kind of miracle cure. Carolyne had started out her career like a house afire, but she had lost steam as Cornelius had gained his.

  Carolyne laid her empty plate to one side and cast a furtive glance toward Felix ensconced in his don’t approach me posture on the far side of the campsite; Teddy and Melanie were perfectly content with their own company; Roy had turned in, his bedroll now a cocoon-like silhouette against the fire built to keep any jaguar at bay.

  “Maybe, just maybe,” Carolyne admitted, “there is a thread of truth to the notion that I was a bit full of myself in my days with your brother.” Had Charles known that there was nothing like offering his confession in proof of vulnerability, to coax a reciprocal confession from her? “Maybe, I did see myself as chosen by the gods and was slow to give Cornelius as much credit as was his due. Maybe, I did feel something for him, not just professional, that got bruised when he married the daughter of Crystin Companies’ head honcho. But for that jerk over there.…” She nodded toward Felix as if to indicate a feral rat run loose in the granary. “…to pick up on any of that and convert it, through his own convoluted logic, into a motive for murder, makes me see red.”

  “He’s jealous of you; that’s all.”

  “Jealous?” She could more easily accept his jealousy of Cornelius. Her accomplishments had never seemed quite good enough to inspire envy; the fading of her star, after leaving Cornelius, had made them seem even punier.

  “Felix is a desk man, very good at it, too,” Charles said. “Cornelius’ estate would have been poorer, by far, without Felix’s administrative skills. However, he’s always seen himself as a man in the field. Maybe, he even assumed that’s what he’d eventually be when Cornelius took him on; you certainly didn’t languish long behind any office desk once you joined the team.”

  “Do you think Cornelius holding him back was what motivated Felix’s affair with Margaret?” That’s how Carolyne now saw it.

  “You accepting that probability, suddenly? Seeing him seeing himself, at the time, better than Cornelius in bed, since he couldn’t prove himself the better man in the field?”

  “Something like that.”

  Charles shrugged.

  “I’m now prepared to believe anything bad about the little weasel.”

  “Actually,” Charles said, “I personally saw Felix rendezvous with Margaret twice at a seedy hotel called Seaman’s Roost. Why weren’t they more discreet so as not to be spotted? Discretion, I guess, just wasn’t among the characteristics of two people already prepared to risk so much. Anyway, the first time, I spotted her in the parking lot, getting out of her car. I would have pulled over, then and there, to say hello.… The idea of Margaret there for a liaison was so far out of my mind at the time that the obvious sleaziness of the venue didn’t even register. Anyway, I was in the wrong lane of traffic for the turn and had to go around the block. When I got back, Felix was just pulling in. No longer any sign of Margaret, but her car was still there.”

  “You stuck around?”

  “The potential for catastrophe took me out of there like a bat out of hell. A few miles down the road, I had myself convinced I’d seen nothing. There were probably a lot of women who looked like Margaret, driving cars that looked like hers. Same for Felix and his car. Those kinds of I have to be mistaken kind of mind games.”

  “You said there was a second time?”

  “The very next week. Same time. Same place. Don’t ask me why I was there; I truly believed I’d imagined it all. Still did when she drove in, just like before, and headed into the hotel. He arrived a few minutes later and followed her inside.”

  “Whatever did she see in him? He’s not much to look at now and wasn’t much better back then.”

  “Isn’t it rumored that women love men for what’s inside?”

  “It’s just a rumor, too, likely started by a very ugly man.” So what that Tina Jackson had married Phillip Wayne whom Carolyne thought looked like a toad? And, it had to be pure accident that scare his own mother Darrel Wayne had landed a beauty like Candy Mills.

  “I didn’t stick around, nor did I ever go back.”

  “No temptation to get a camera?”

  “And hurt Cornelius? Carolyne, my brother truly loved Margaret. Besides, I don’t know how he would have handled having cancer and being a cuckold.”

  “Tell me about the night her car went off the road.” Carolyne wanted that final connection.

  “Tuesday night. Her and Felix’s night. Eight o’clock. Their time. The Seaman’s Roost, their hotel, only two blocks away.”

  “Would you believe the bastard was right here, only minutes ago, denying it all?”

  “Probably took him by surprise that you called him out on it.”

  With that, Charles excused himself with, “Early to bed, early to rise.…” He wasn’t young any more, and trekking through any jungle, this one included, was no Sunday stroll through the park.

  Carolyne, too, knew the advantages of sleep in the face of a scheduled early morning departure. However, she was still too keyed up by her confrontation with Felix; lying down would summon only more dark, sleep-denying thoughts.

  She took advantage of Teddy’s decision to turn in, too, and joined Melanie who, like Carolyne, wasn’t ready for the day to end.

  “That is a beautiful emerald.” Carolyne sat down on the ground and took the gem Melanie handed over. “As Roy said: ‘A nice little souvenir.’” She handed it back.

  “Trouble is,” Melanie said and pocketed the stone, “I came for more than a souvenir. The total repercussions of the day’s events have just begun to sink in. I keep thinking of all those people in the world who die every day of cancer. I keep thinking of how many more may die because of a man killed, here, whether he was killed by man or by beast.” She tried to muster a smile and did a pretty good job of it. “And, of course, I keep thinking how a major source of Lygodium cornelius could have been quite a feather in my cap, maybe someday making Melanie Ditherson a household name.”

  “That dream surely isn’t dead.”

  Melanie was hopeful. “You think the authorities will allow us back, any time soon?” Her optimism was short-lived. “I’m not. They fought tooth and nail before they gave in this time. When they finally conceded the battle, I thought it was a sign good fortune would soon follow. What a mess it is, instead.”

  “How did you ever decide upon Charles, Felix, and me?” Carolyne wanted to talk to keep her mind off other things.

  “I wanted the best, didn’t I? More importantly, I wanted not only people who loved my father, and would see this as a marvelous final epithet for him, but the people my father loved and/or trusted.”


  “Wrong luck of the draw, as far as that certified wretch, Felix!”

  Unlike Charles, Melanie didn’t ask for specifics. Her laugh wasn’t her Uncle Charles’ laugh; it was her father’s; it made Carolyne wish Cornelius wasn’t dead of cancer, that old times could be lived again, that pain needn’t always be so much of any relationship. “Father used to say, ‘Love and like have, unfortunately, very little to do with a deserving recipient. It’s to do with quite helpless emotions that take root, despite all efforts to control them, and grow against all odds.’”

  “He must have figured I was doing my best at rooting him out of my life when I went over to JanEx.” It wasn’t exactly a question, because Carolyne knew the answer. At the time, she hurt a lot and meant to hurt him.

  Melanie leaned closer and put a hand on the older woman’s knee. “He never—ever—blamed you, you know? He told me he blamed himself, because he’d been too self-centered in thinking my mom was as good for everyone as she was good for him. He’d not even considered the prospects of things unable to go on as before. By the time he did realize it, it was too late. He admired your strength to see complications that he didn’t see, as well as your determination to get on with your life. He always said he’d never have been where he was without you, without watching the way your instincts took charge in the field. Every time he made a new discovery, he’d tell me he couldn’t have done it without those years of learning with you and from you. It made me quite jealous before I matured beyond most of that childish, stereotypical pettiness.”

  She moved her hand from Carolyne’s knee to the woman’s hand. She took those rough, square-tipped fingers and gave a squeeze. “My father was never very good with personal relationships. Oh, he loved and was loved. He was kind. He was considerate. He could be generous to a fault, and could forgive just about anyone for not being perfect. But, there was always a piece of him that was well-recognized; a piece devoted one-hundred percent to his vocation. His time in the field was his greatest passion. I truly believe he preferred plants to people.”

 

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