Murder by Yew (Edna Davies Mysteries)

by Suzanne Young

  “Because she was there,” Mary answered with a conspiratorial smile. “Jenny and Tom went up to Providence with them to a justice of the peace. Bobby asked Tom if he’d stand up for him, you know, be his best man. I don’t think that Jenny knew Daisy all that well, but since Tom and Jenny were almost inseparable by then, Jenny went along to be Daisy’s maid of honor. Jenny said they got to the courthouse in Providence almost too late. The offices were closing, but the justice told them they could come in. Jenny said it was about the world’s fastest ceremony.” Mary gave a girlish giggle, probably at the memory of Jenny’s confidence.

  Edna was still trying to understand why the two young people left the area. “If they were married, why leave town? Couldn’t they have found a place to live here?”

  “I don’t know. Jenny never told me that part. Maybe Bobby thought someone would have the marriage annulled. Maybe he wanted to get away from his father. Who knows?” Mary shrugged.

  Nothing worth murdering for there, Edna thought and searched for a different approach. “So, Bobby must be the friend Tom told me about, the one he wanted to bring back for his fortieth reunion. Wasn’t it you who gave Tom the name of a private detective?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten about that,” Mary said and grinned. “Carter Stuart must have been a friend of my parents. I found his card in Father’s desk one day when I was looking for some writing paper. When Tom told me he wished he knew where Bobby was, I gave him Mr. Stuart’s phone number.” She frowned slightly. “I wonder if Tom ever called him.”

  About then, Edna turned a page in the yearbook and discovered a series of pictures taken at the Thanksgiving rally, according to the captions. This is when Tom met Jenny, she thought. She examined shots of students grouped around a bonfire, cheerleaders posing for the camera, and a group of boys climbing on a bigger-than-life bronze statue of a man holding an open book in his hands. Mary was in a couple of the photos. As a young girl, she had tried to restrain her curly red hair in pigtails, but wisps still sprang wildly around her face.

  One of the pictures must have caught Mary’s eye because she bent forward, pointing to a pretty brunette with a ponytail. “That’s Jenny.”

  “Who’s this?” Edna turned the book so Mary could see better and pointed to a girl standing beside the base of the bronze statue. Wearing a tight sweater and a straight skirt that looked too big for her small frame, she was staring up at the boys with no readable expression on her face. No other student was near her, and it looked almost as if she had walked into the picture by mistake.

  Mary took the book and turned it so more light fell on the page. Handing it back, she said, “That’s her. That’s Daisy Farwell, the girl Bobby married.”

  “Why does she look familiar? I’m assuming she didn’t come back to town, if Bobby didn’t, but does she have relatives in the area?”

  “Not that I know of.” Mary sat back in her chair and looked at the fire. “As I told you already, as far as anyone knew, there was just her and her mother.”

  Edna examined the skinny teenager, trying to think of whom she resembled. In the yearbook picture, her shoulder-length brown hair was parted in the middle and tucked behind her ears. Her eyes were large with dark smudges beneath, as if she were ill, but Edna saw a fragile beauty in the young face. “What else can you tell me about her?” Edna’s interest had more to do with curiosity over the fate of a child than with Tom’s death.

  Mary slouched in her seat and tipped her head to look up at the beamed ceiling. “She kept to herself mostly. Didn’t talk much, as I remember. She was shy, I think. I didn’t remember her being at that rally. She usually didn’t go to school functions.”

  “She looks as if she had a chronic illness. Was she sick?”

  “I don’t know. She looked like that all the time. They were poor, she and her mom, and probably didn’t eat well. I wasn’t allowed to play with her. Not many kids were.”

  “Why? Because she wasn’t part of your social group?”

  “No, not really. I think it was more because of her mother’s boyfriends.”

  “Oh?” Edna thought she knew what Mary was alluding to, but she didn’t say so. Instead, she said, “You said you thought your father’s friend was going to adopt her. Any particular reason he would want to adopt a fifteen-year-old?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe my father and he were trying to save her from becoming like her mother.”

  When she realized how reluctant Mary was to say any more about Daisy, Edna switched the subject. “Did you say Daisy’s mother died right around graduation? In nineteen …” She turned to the cover of the yearbook. “… nineteen fifty-nine?”

  “That’s right. Her funeral was the same day as Tom’s graduation. I remember, because Jenny said she was sorry none of us could go to the cemetery with Daisy, because of graduation and all.”

  Before Edna could ask her next question, Hank leaped up and began to bark. The women froze, startled by the dog’s sudden agitation. Then, the doorbell rang.

  Sixteen

  Mary visibly relaxed at the sound of the bell, but Edna remained tense. She was certain that her jitters were due to her fright in the night and wondered how long it would be before she didn’t jump whenever somebody came to the house—even someone else’s house.

  “I keep forgetting I have a watchdog now,” Mary called over her shoulder as she headed for the front hall with Hank at her heels.

  Edna smiled, watching Benjamin bring up the rear and remembering the blood-chilling yowl he’d emitted. She had her own “watchcat,” she thought, her humor returning and easing some of her stress. A few minutes later, dog and mistress returned, followed by police detectives Charlie Rogers and Peggy King. Benjamin, too, slipped into the room, noticed only by Edna.

  Not certain whom she had been expecting, Edna felt a further sense of relief and hurried over to them. “Did you catch the prowlers?” She heard the hope in her voice, wanting to return home but not before the intruders were caught. The memory of Tuck lying on the floor flashed through her mind.

  “No,” Charlie shook his head, “but we’d like to examine the scene ourselves. We need your permission to do that.”

  “Certainly.” At once, Edna felt deflated and realized she had been hoping the police had come to deliver some good news. Whether it was about the burglars or Tom’s killer didn’t matter, as long as the news was positive. She mentally shook herself and tried to act as if she were interested, but she believed that rehashing last night’s events would be a wasted effort. “Do you want me to go with you?” she asked, uncertain as to what the detectives expected.

  “If you wouldn’t mind. We might have some questions.”

  “Of course. I’ll need my coat. It’s by the front door.”

  “Me, too?” Without waiting for an answer, Mary started to follow Edna. “Come on, Hank.”

  “I think you’d better stay here with the dog,” Charlie said. “We don’t want too many feet trampling over the evidence.”

  “But … “ Mary started to protest. Her dejection was plain. Edna knew it must be a big disappointment for her not to be included in the investigation of a crime scene, especially since it was right next door, and she had already been part of the action.

  “We shouldn’t be long,” Detective King patted Mary’s shoulder. “From what Russell and Grayson told us, there isn’t much to see.”

  Mary brightened, but only slightly. “I’ll make coffee. Can you come in for a cup when you’re through?”

  “We’ll see.” Charlie smiled as he ushered Edna and his partner from the room.

  The wind had stopped, and the rain was hardly more than a heavy mist when Peggy pulled the unmarked patrol car to a stop in front of the Davies’ house and turned off the engine. Getting out of the passenger’s seat and opening the rear door for Edna, Charlie motioned the women to stay behind him as he examined the ground on his way to the back patio. He studied the area around the lock before using Edna’s key to open the back doo
r.

  As instructed, Edna remained in the mudroom while the detectives went slowly through the kitchen and beyond to the front hall. Peggy had grabbed a camera and begun taking pictures as soon as they’d left the car. Once the officers disappeared from sight, Edna leaned back against her workbench and turned to study the back door, struggling to remember if she had locked it yesterday.

  “Okay, Mrs. Davies, you can come in now.” Charlie broke her concentration before she reached a conclusion.

  “Is the phone working yet?” She hadn’t spoken to Albert since Friday and wanted desperately to hear his voice.

  “It should be,” Peggy said. “They brought the lines back up early this morning.”

  “Do you mind?” Not waiting for his permission, Edna walked past Charlie and through the kitchen to her small office, but when she picked up the phone, there was no dial tone. Returning to the kitchen, she frowned at the detectives. “My line’s still dead.”

  “Check outside, would you?” Charlie spoke to Peggy as he pulled out a chair for Edna at the kitchen table. The two sat in silence while they waited for Peggy to return. Sitting in the kitchen, Edna felt the terror of the night returning. She lowered her eyes to stare at her folded hands and willed herself to be calm.

  “Line’s been cut.” Peggy called from the back door as she hurried through the mudroom. “Rain washed away any prints there might have been, but the cable was definitely cut where it comes into the house.”

  “I’ll have the phone company get someone out here.” Charlie reached into an inside pocket of his suit coat, pulled out a cell phone and flipped it open. Edna listened while he ordered telephone repair service out to her address as soon as possible. When he’d finished the call, he smiled at her. “They’re sending someone out this morning.” He hesitated for a moment, and his smile disappeared as he leaned slightly forward. “Do you know of anyone who might want to harm you or your husband?”

  The question surprised her, and she blurted out, “Of course not.” Then, after a second or two of thought, she added more quietly, “I can’t even think of a reason, let alone a person.” The detectives remained silent, watching her, so Edna thought some more about events leading up to last night. She felt frustrated and frightened to think someone might want to hurt her. As she thought back, realization brought a surge of relief. “I wasn’t supposed to be here last night.” She looked from one to the other, willing them to agree with her that she wasn’t someone’s target. “If it hadn’t been for the storm warning, I’d have stayed in Boston with my daughter.”

  “Who knew you’d be away?” Charlie nodded to Peggy, who opened a small black notebook and began to write with a slim gold pencil.

  Edna thought back to when she’d made the decision to visit Starling. “Let’s see … Liz and Carol. That’s Liz Franken and Carol Lancell. Liz is my art instructor, and Carol is a member of the class.” She spelled their names for Peggy before continuing. “There was Mary, of course. I asked her to feed Benjamin while I was away. He’s my cat.” This explanation was in response to Charlie’s lifted eyebrow. When Peggy looked up from her pad, Edna said, “And Dee Tolkheim. She stopped by as I was about to leave. She does that, you know. Stops by unannounced. Very inconsiderate.” Realizing that she was babbling, Edna took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Why was she beginning to feel as if she were the one who’d done something wrong?

  “Is that everyone?” Peggy asked.

  Edna nodded and noticed that the two officers exchange glances before Charlie said, “It looks like whoever entered your house last night cut the phone line first. That tells me they probably expected someone to be home. I don’t want to alarm you unnecessarily, but you should take some precautions. For now, can you stay with Mary?”

  His words confirmed the growing suspicions that Edna had been trying to ignore, and she nodded. “Yes. Mary’s offered me a bed, at least until my husband returns from his trip.” Feeling close to panic, she said almost to herself, “I don’t know why anyone would be after me.”

  Neither detective spoke for a few minutes while Peggy stared at Charlie, who looked deep in thought as he studied the door to the mudroom. “There may be another explanation. Maybe they didn’t expect you to be home. Cutting the phone line may have been a precaution.” He spoke as if he were thinking aloud, his gaze still on the back room. After a few more minutes, he turned back to Edna, shrugged his shoulders as if settling more comfortably into his suit jacket, and rested his crossed forearms on the table. “We’re investigating a series of burglaries around town. I don’t know if you’ve seen the paper, but there was another break-in on Friday.”

  Mutely, Edna shook her head. A vision popped into her mind of Helen Tucker’s hair spotted with blood.

  “The Bishops—local family, new to the area but well off—flew to Atlanta last Thursday for their son’s wedding. Got home yesterday afternoon and found several pieces of furniture missing, along with some old coins, clocks, rugs and paintings. Looks like the same thieves. Seemed to know where everything was. Just took the most expensive stuff.”

  When he paused, Edna picked up on the thought. “So you’re saying whoever was here last night might have been these same people? You think they were looking for valuables, for antiques?”

  “Might have been.” Charlie looked in her eyes. “Did you lock your door last night?”

  “I’ve been trying and trying to remember, but I can’t. I really can’t be certain I locked it.”

  “It would help if we knew whether or not they used a key to get in.”

  “Seems rather unlikely, doesn’t it? I mean the key was in its hiding place in the garden. They wouldn’t have had time to put it back, not once Mary and Hank showed up.”

  “Who knows you have a key hidden outside besides Mary?” Peggy asked, looking up from her notes.

  “My cleaning women,” Edna said. “I wanted them to know how to get in if there’s ever an occasion that I’m not here when they arrive.”

  She saw Peggy glance at Charlie as if passing the questioning back to him. He paused only briefly before he said, “Has Beverly Lewis’s brother ever done work around here?”

  “No. We’ve used only Tom.” Edna paused to think of what that meant now. Would she hire David Lewis—or Shoes, as Beverly called him—and be free of Norm Wilkins, or would Albert insist on retaining Honeydew Home Repairs? She made a mental note to speak to him when he got home from his trip.

  “So, you wouldn’t have a phone number for David Lewis?”

  Charlie’s question surprised Edna. “No. Have you checked with Beverly?”

  “Yes, we were able to reach her on her cell phone. She’ll be stopping by the station when she gets back to town, but she said she hadn’t spoken to her brother for nearly two weeks. He’s not answering his cell phone. She says that’s unusual and admitted to being worried about him. We were just wondering if at any time you might have gotten a number for him and if it’s different from the one we’ve been calling.”

  “Sorry, I don’t have one,” Edna said, then asked, “Why are you looking for Beverly’s brother?”

  She didn’t miss Peggy’s fleeting glance at Charlie before the policewoman said, “They both work at homes that have been vandalized, so they might be helpful to our investigation, especially if they’ve seen anything out of the ordinary.” Without pause, she changed back to the subject of Edna’s hidden key. “Is it possible that whoever came in last night might have unlocked the door and returned the key before entering the house?”

  Edna hadn’t considered that possibility. She mulled it over in her head. Without having an answer to Peggy’s question, she turned to Charlie to ask one of her own. “I still don’t understand why anyone would come here in the middle of the night. If they thought nobody was going to be home, why not come during the day?”

  Peggy coughed, drawing Edna’s attention. The detective seemed to be hiding a smile behind her hand as she rubbed her cheek. “If they know the neighborhood, they
know that Mary keeps a good watch on this area.” Only her eyes moved to flick across to her partner while she kept her head bent over the pocket-sized notebook.

  “She’s right.” The smile on Charlie’s face broadened. It was as if the two were sharing a private joke.

  Edna was annoyed at their childish behavior. “But it still doesn’t make sense.”

  Both officers turned to her, puzzled. “Why’s that?” Charlie asked.

  “It was pouring rain. Surely, they wouldn’t try to move things and risk water damage? Even if the rain stopped, they’d be hindered by darkness. You say they’ve been working in this area for a while, so why wouldn’t they wait for a better time, when the weather’s better and when Albert and I are both away?”

  As Edna heard her own words, dread returned. If what she’d just said were true, then whoever was in her house last night could only have been after her. She stopped and looked from Charlie to Peggy, feeling her eyes widen with the horror of her own thoughts.

  “Exactly, Mrs. Davies.” Charlie spoke softly. “Which brings us back to the question, do you know of anyone who might want to harm you?”

  She lowered her head and began to think. Could all this have anything to do with Tom’s death? Was he killed because of something he knew, something having to do with this house? No, she shook herself mentally, that’s absurd. Then she wondered about Nancy. Would Tom’s daughter want to harm her? Maybe whoever it was just wanted to scare her enough that she would leave town. Thinking of the wagging tongues that were forcing the Sharps to sell their home, Edna didn’t want to accuse anyone unless she was absolutely certain. Lifting her gaze to Charlie’s face, she said. “No. I can think of no one.”

  He again glanced silently at his partner, and Edna’s fury broke. “That’s not only rude, it’s infuriating.” She sat straighter in her chair, squared her shoulders and glared at the two detectives. “I wish you two would stop looking at each other as if you were sharing some big secret. If you have something to say, spit it out. Instead of sitting here scaring me to death, why aren’t you out trying to find these people? And what about Tom? Have you found out who poisoned him?” She flinched inwardly as Charlie straightened in his own chair and stared back at her.