This Old Murder

by Valerie Wolzien

  “If you didn’t know the body was up there, then when- and where-did you see it?” Sam asked Bobby Valentine.

  “Last night. It… was here.” He pointed at the oil-soaked chair. “Just sitting there…”

  Sam nodded. “Sure, rigor would have started to wear off…” he mumbled to himself. “How was she killed?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest. I mean, I didn’t see any blood or anything,” Josie said.

  “How was she killed?” Sam directed the same question to the producer.

  “I… I think she may have been hit on the head.” Bobby Valentine started to look a bit pale and sat down in the makeup chair before he continued. “I didn’t look as closely as I should have,” he admitted, his voice a bit shaky.

  “You came in here and found her. It must have been a shock,” Sam said slowly.

  “Not a shock. Not at first. You see, I didn’t know she was dead. I came in after work… I wanted to check her answering machine for messages. And I didn’t turn on the light or anything. I… She was in the chair. I was surprised… thrilled… relieved to see her, I guess. And then, almost immediately, I realized she wasn’t all right. Well, that she was dead.”

  “How closely did you look at her?” Josie asked, remembering how reluctant she had been to do the same thing.

  “I… I moved her. I didn’t mean to. I went up to her and… I guess I touched her on the shoulder. I don’t remember exactly.”

  “You were in shock,” Sam said. “It’s completely understandable. Go on.”

  “Well, I think I may have pushed her a bit. Anyway, she fell over and… I saw a large lump on her temple. No blood. But it was certainly ugly.”

  “I didn’t see a bump,” Josie said. “But…” She looked across the room at the wig on the exercise bike. “It could have been hidden by the wig, couldn’t it?”

  “It probably was,” Bobby Valentine said. “She loved that thick wave that came across her forehead. The injury was right underneath.”

  Josie nodded.

  “What are you thinking?” Sam asked her.

  “When she was up in the canoe, one of the things I noticed was that she was made-up and her hair was in perfect order. Maybe that was to disguise the injury. Do you think that’s possible?”

  “Well, whether that was the motivation or not, it seems to have been one of the end results. None of you touched her when she was up there?”

  “I don’t think so,” Josie answered. “No one said they had. And it was a little creepy.”

  “What did you do, run tours?” Bobby Valentine must have realized how he sounded. “Sorry, I’m a bit upset.”

  “Not surprising,” Sam said.

  “Everyone on the crew did look up there,” she explained. “But I don’t think anyone touched her.”

  “Let’s go back to when you discovered the body here,” Sam asked Bobby Valentine. “After you found out that Courtney was dead, what did you do?”

  The producer snorted. “I headed for the nearest bar and got drunk.”

  Sam frowned. “You went down to Gallagher’s?”

  “If that’s the name of the fake Irish place down by the fiveand-dime, the answer is yes.”

  “Good description. It’s owned by a man named Smith. He calls it Gallagher’s because he wanted people to think of it as that friendly little Irish place on the corner, but the name is the only good thing about it,” Sam commented.

  “Yeah. He serves off-price brands while claiming they’re top-shelf. But it did the trick. I was plastered.”

  “And when did you return here?” Sam asked.

  “I came back this morning. And she was gone.” Bobby Valentine put his head in his hands. “I was hung over. For a moment, I wondered if I was going mad. If I had imagined the entire thing. That was wishful thinking, I guess.”

  “There was no sign of her here this morning?” Sam asked.

  “None.”

  “What about the wig?” Josie asked.

  “What wig?”

  Josie pointed. “That one.”

  They all stared at the blond wig, which was still, despite the fight, sitting on the exercise bike.

  “It wasn’t there this morning,” Bobby said.

  “You might not have seen it,” Sam suggested.

  The other man seemed to consider the question. “I think I would have. I came in the door and I looked around. Frankly, I felt like shit. Not just the hangover, but I was terrified of seeing Courtney again. Her body, that is.” He stood up and walked over to the doorway. “I didn’t come in any farther than I needed to be to close the door behind me. And, frankly, I didn’t even look around until I had the door closed. Then… Then, frankly, I was thrilled to death that the body was gone. I told you. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought I was dreaming or seeing things. And when I realized she was really gone, I got out of here as fast as possible.”

  “But you came back-” Sam started to say.

  “Are you sure about the wig?” Josie asked at the same time.

  “The wig. I really think I would have noticed it from here.”

  “Why did you come back this evening?” Sam asked.

  “Wait a second, Sam.” Josie got up and stood by Bobby Valentine’s side. “You didn’t move from this spot?” she asked.

  “No. I’m sure of that.”

  “And Courtney was sitting… placed… whatever in that chair last night?”

  “Yes.”

  Josie frowned and then walked over to the chair he had indicated.

  “Why did you return here this evening?” Sam repeated his question.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about her. About Courtney. She appeared and then disappeared. I… I wondered if she would do it again.”

  “You thought she might come back?” Josie had been circling the chair and she stopped to ask the question.

  “It might sound stupid, but I didn’t know why she was here in the first place.” He shrugged. “So I thought it was possible that she might come back.”

  “But she didn’t.” Sam’s voice was flat.

  “No. Her hair did, though.”

  For one horrible moment Josie thought Bobby Valentine was going to giggle.

  Then he put his head in his hands and began to cry.

  THIRTY

  JOSIE AND SAM waited patiently for Bobby Valentine to recover his composure. Then…

  “Why did you call me?” Josie asked.

  “I didn’t know what else to do.” Bobby Valentine glanced over at Sam. “Did you hear about what Courtney said about Josie?”

  “That if something happened to her, I would know about it-or something like that,” Josie explained.

  “Yes. Yes, exactly. Do you know what she meant by that?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest.”

  “Are you under the impression that she meant something sinister?” Sam asked.

  “What do you mean?” Josie asked him.

  “I’m asking if it was a ‘If I’m found dead, Josie Pigeon is the person who killed me’ type of comment,” Sam explained.

  “Yes, it was,” Bobby Valentine answered.

  “Wait a minute! How did that subject come up? Do you chat about murder during casual conversation? Or was Courtney obsessed with her own death?”

  “It was weird,” Bobby Valentine admitted, walking over to the wig and looking at it carefully. “I mean, you’re right, Courtney was not the type of person to contemplate her mortality. It was the first day we were here on the island. She was slightly hyper-”

  “What sort of hyper?” Sam interrupted to ask.

  “You know, excited. Frankly, I thought it was this place.”

  “The trailer?”

  “Yeah, she’d been wanting a customized trailer for years and years. She’d planned it and talked about it. Everyone who knew her had heard about how much she wanted something like this. And then it was finally hers.”

  “It meant that much to her?” Josie asked.

  “Yes. Thi
s type of stuff meant the world to Courtney.”

  “So you were talking about the job or whatever,” Sam prompted again.

  “Yes, and somehow the conversation turned to people dying.”

  “Like accidents on the job?”

  “No. Maybe. I really don’t remember. I was surprised.”

  “I should hope so. After all, Courtney was accusing Josie of a future murder, after all,” Sam said.

  “Well, that’s true, of course. But I was surprised that she knew Josie Pigeon. It was the first I’d heard of a connection between the two of them.”

  “Really? She didn’t mention knowing Josie when this whole thing began?”

  “No way.”

  “Do you happen to remember when you first heard about Island Contracting?”

  “A few months ago.”

  “From whom?”

  “Courtney, I think.”

  “Do you think she could have known about Josie for a while without mentioning her?”

  “Definitely. Courtney only told me what she wanted to tell me.”

  “And who did Courtney hear about Josie from?”

  “No one seems to know the answer to that one.” Josie answered Sam’s question.

  “Maybe we could go through her papers and find out?” Sam suggested.

  “Ha. You didn’t know Courtney. She was a disaster when it came to keeping records. Drove me nuts,” Bobby Valentine said.

  “Josie has the same problem. Must have been something in the water when they were growing up,” Sam said with a smile.

  Bobby Valentine looked as though he didn’t believe it. “You two don’t seem to have all that much in common. That librarian lady said you’ve always been different.”

  Josie frowned. She had just had a thought that seemed significant. But the idea of Naomi Van Ripper talking about her like that had driven it right out of her mind.

  Everyone stood around without saying anything for a few minutes. Then Sam asked another question.

  “Do people ever pay or give things to get on the show?”

  “No way. We’re not a sleazy operation. If that has happened, I can promise you that I knew nothing about it.” He looked over at Josie. “You didn’t offer anyone anything to be on the air, did you?”

  “Of course not! I wouldn’t do that even if I could afford to, which I can’t.” She yawned. The adrenaline was subsiding and she was beginning to realize just how exhausted she was. “I’ve got to get up early tomorrow. And I’m only going to get…” She glanced at her watch and gasped. “Four hours of sleep if I leave right now. Which is what I’m going to do!”

  “God, I had no idea it was so late,” Bobby Valentine said, looking down at his Swiss watch.

  “I gather that wig is significant,” Sam said.

  “Courtney never appeared without one of them on.”

  “If no one objects, I’ll just take it home with me,” Sam said, using one finger to pick up the wig.

  “Fine with me-” Josie’s comment was interrupted by a yawn. “Sorry.”

  “Are you awake enough to drive home?”

  “I’ll be fine. And I’ll be home in less than ten minutes.”

  In fact, with a little late-night speeding, ten minutes later she was in bed. She fell asleep wondering what had been said tonight that had seemed fleetingly significant.

  She woke up with a horrible ringing in her ears. She really had to find the time to replace the doorbell. By the time her feet hit the floor, Tyler was doing his bit to increase the noise level.

  “Ma! You’ve got company.”

  Josie grabbed a robe and pulled it over the T-shirt she slept in. She ran her hands through her hair to smooth it down, vaguely expecting Sam. But Annette and Chad stood in her living room, holding hands, nervous expressions on their faces.

  “Hi.”

  “We’re here too early,” Annette said.

  “We wanted to talk to you before work started,” Chad explained.

  “It’s important,” Annette added.

  “Let me get dressed,” Josie said, and hurried back to her bedroom.

  When she returned to her guests a few minutes later, the room smelled deliciously of coffee. “Who…?” She spied her son near the coffeemaker watching the fresh brew drip into the pot. “Oh, Tyler, thank you so much. That’s just what I need.” She reached for a mug and then remembered her manners. “Can I get you both some?”

  “Tyler already offered us some, thanks,” Chad answered. He and Annette were still standing by the door.

  “Come in and sit down,” Josie suggested. “I know Tyler is going to leave in just a few minutes. He… runs a couple of miles every morning,” she lied, inspired. “Thanks for making the coffee, but we don’t want to keep you, sweetie.”

  “Sweetie’s just leaving. Nice meeting you two,” he said to Chad and Annette. “Bye.” With a wide grin on his face, Tyler left the apartment.

  “Does he run in plastic flipflops?” Chad asked.

  “His running shoes are downstairs,” Josie explained, ignoring the fact that a pair of size-ten Nikes lay in the middle of the living room floor.

  “We need to talk to you,” Chad explained again.

  “We’re here to tell you the truth,” Annette added.

  Josie sipped her coffee. “About what?”

  “We…” Annette looked at Chad and didn’t continue.

  “We were together on the property next to the house you’re remodeling.” The young man spoke up.

  “Together? You mean you were… making love? Outside? On the ground? In the middle of the day?”

  “No, of course not. We had only known each other then for a day or two,” Chad explained.

  “And we wouldn’t do something like that outside… in the middle of the day…” Annette was becoming flustered. “Would we?” She looked at Chad for confirmation.

  “No.” He took her hand again.

  Josie thought they were charming, but it was taking quite a bit of time to tell their story. “So what were you doing? What did Cheryl and Howard have to complain about?”

  “It wasn’t what we were doing, Ms. Pigeon. We were just kissing. Really. It was perfectly innocent. But we talked about it and, well, we were afraid that we might have been on the next-door neighbor’s property.”

  “And yesterday we checked, and… we were. Josie, we’re really sorry. When we told you we hadn’t been there, we really didn’t think we were lying!”

  “I believe you.” Josie took another sip of coffee. “I hope Cheryl and Howard didn’t see you on their property again.”

  “We were very careful,” Annette said.

  “Well, actually they may have seen me the day before yesterday,” Chad admitted. “Remember I told you I was going to check it out?” He looked at Annette, who nodded lovingly. “Well, I did. I went over to where you and I had been sitting and realized that, in fact, we were probably off the work site.”

  “When did you go?” Annette asked.

  Josie seemed a bit preoccupied.

  “In the afternoon sometime. I wanted to check it out before we went to dinner.”

  “And that’s why you told me we should look at it yesterday morning!” Annette beamed, apparently proud of Chad’s forward thinking.

  “Exactly.”

  Josie realized they were expecting a comment from her. “So you went back together yesterday morning.” She suspected that Howard and Cheryl had been given a perfectly adequate excuse to complain about all this trekking back and forth across their property line, but she appreciated that Chad and Annette were trying to help and so didn’t mention it.

  “Yes. And Chad was right. Where we were sitting was right over the property line! Josie, do you think we should go over and apologize to them?”

  “For what?”

  “Trespassing!”

  “I wouldn’t bother. Every time we see or speak to them, they just find something else to complain about,” Josie said.

  “But we’re rea
lly here to apologize to you. For putting you in such an uncomfortable position,” Chad asserted.

  “Yes.” Annette nodded vigorously. “We’re sorry. We really are.”

  “It’s okay.” Josie put down her mug, thinking it was time for them to leave. But they didn’t seem to agree.

  “We’re really sorry,” Annette repeated.

  But Chad had other things on his mind. “Ah, Ms. Pigeon…” He stopped and looked over at Annette. “I’m going to tell her,” he said.

  Annette sighed. “I will. I did it.”

  “Did what?” Josie asked, hoping they would get to the facts as soon as possible.

  “I told Chad about Courtney.”

  “What about Courtney?” Josie asked, suspecting that she knew the answer.

  “That she’s dead. And gone. I mean, that her body is gone.”

  Josie sighed. She should have known this was a secret that wasn’t going to be kept. “So?”

  “I’m so sorry-”

  Annette was going to begin another round of apologies when Chad interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about all this quite a bit,” he began.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I don’t know if Annette told you, but my mother has investigated many murders. And actually solved them.” Josie thought he sounded a bit amazed by this fact. “So I’ve had some experience with this sort of thing. And I’ve taken both Introduction to Psychology and Sociology 101 at Cornell and have some limited knowledge of human behavior.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And I have some thoughts.” Chad plunked himself down on the couch, rested his elbows on his knees, and rested his chin on his knuckles.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. You know, I think murder is usually committed for one of two reasons. Either personal gain or revenge.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, Chad’s been explaining it all to me,” Annette jumped in enthusiastically. “You see, the person who killed Courtney either benefited from her death or hated her so much that he or she could not bear to live in a world where she lived, too. So…”

  “So we need to look at the people Courtney knew. Someone either had something to gain from her death or else hated her. Gain or hate,” Chad said. “Gain or hate. That’s what I think causes most murders.”

  Josie looked at the earnest young man and nodded slowly. “You may have a point there. But it might have been the result of a combination of those things. Not gain or hate, but gain and hate. And you know what? I think those two things got Courtney killed. And I think I know who killed her.”