Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay

by Cynthia Hamilton

  Madeline composed herself before giving the brass knocker a series of short raps. The door opened within seconds, a sign that Helen hadn’t been far away and had probably observed their arrival.

  “Helen, I thought you had taken a couple days off,” Madeline said, shifting her body closer to the threshold, wearing a smile that was meant to be both convivial and reverent.

  “Duty called,” Helen said stoically. Madeline leaned in slightly as if to enter the house. Helen didn’t budge.

  “Ross asked us to do a favor for Cherie,” Madeline said, her smile tightening as she assumed the role of intermediary. “She’s going to be all right, thank God.”

  With this remark, Madeline nodded slightly to Helen, signaling to the housekeeper that she needed to step aside so they could get busy with their task. Helen backed away, but kept her head high and her gaze aloft, treating the visitors as if they were ordinary tradespeople, not part of Mrs. Alexander’s entourage. Madeline maintained eye contact with Helen and motioned for Alice to lead the way.

  “What happened to Cherie?” Alice asked as soon as she closed the door to the giftwrapping room.

  “She tried to kill herself,” Madeline said bluntly. The crush of reporters camped out around the estate had made her mindful that employees are easy targets for tabloid bribes. And if Madeline was wrong about Helen’s role in this multiple tragedy, then Alice would soon be unemployed, which would make selling her inside story all the more alluring.

  “Oh, my God!” Alice cried, hand to her mouth as she dropped onto a nearby stool.

  “Alice, if we’re going to save Cherie from going to prison, we need to work fast and methodically. Do you understand?” Alice nodded, her face a vivid canvas of confusion and grief. “All right, let’s go through these packages one by one. You tell me who it’s from and I’ll check it against the list. We’re looking for one that Vivian might have slipped in when you weren’t here.”

  Madeline set the clipboard down and fished out her cell phone to call Ross. “It’s Madeline. We didn’t find what we were looking for.”

  “I’m just pulling into the gates.”

  A surge of adrenaline rushed through Madeline’s body. They were so close to finding the truth. If she was right. “I’m worried about Helen bolting,” she said. Her concerns were met with silence. Walking into the storage closet so Alice couldn’t hear her, she tried again. “Ross, I realize this is hard for you to face, but right now, it comes down to either your wife or your housekeeper as your mother’s murderer. We have to err on the side of caution.” A muffled sound, like a choked-down sob, was all Madeline could hear on the other end.

  “Ross?”

  “I’ll call security to make sure she doesn’t leave.”

  “Better have someone on the back perimeter. On satellite photos, that looks like a weak spot.”

  “All right,” Ross said before disconnecting.

  Madeline tapped the backside of her phone with nervous fingers while she debated calling Detective Slovitch to give him a heads up. It would save time if her suspicions were right, but it would be a waste of the detective’s time if she were wrong. Plus, it would tip her hand as far as Helen was concerned. Instead, she rejoined Alice just as Ross walked in the front door.

  Helen was there to greet him, the significance of which was not lost on Madeline. She stood beside a very confused Alice as they watched the interaction between employer and employee. The tension in the air was palpable. It was obvious to Madeline that Ross felt suddenly awkward around the woman he had trusted to run his home for twenty years.

  Covering her embarrassment, Helen became overly solicitous, offering refreshments all around. Ross was quick to decline for everyone, leaving Helen with orders that he not be disturbed for any reason. Madeline was reluctant to take her attention away from the housekeeper, yet very anxious to find out if she was right about her or not.

  As she turned to follow Ross to his study, she nearly smacked into Alice. Now a new quandary presented itself: what to do with Cherie’s assistant. Madeline caught Ross’s attention as he opened the door. She conveyed with a sideward glance the downside of leaving Alice unattended. Ross silently evaluated the situation and motioned with his head for both of them to come into his study.

  “You remember that you signed a very binding confidentiality agreement when you were hired…?” Ross said to Alice as she passed into the room behind Madeline.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied nervously, her distress and confusion palpable.

  “Have a seat over by the fireplace,” Ross directed. Alice complied at once, sitting on the sofa with her back to them, making herself as small as possible. Once she was out of the way, Ross got busy opening all three safes.

  “This will go quicker if you help me,” he said to Madeline as he laid the contents of Vivian’s safe out on his desk. They each examined everything carefully and came to the same conclusion.

  “Okay, let’s see if it got put in mine by mistake,” Ross said. There was no enthusiasm in his voice, only urgency. “You know this doesn’t really prove anything if we don’t find it,” he said quietly to Madeline before restoring the first safe and taking out his.

  “It might lead to the proof,” she maintained, though she knew Ross was right.

  “Nothing here. That leave’s Cherie’s.” They each took a deep breath, both realizing that things could go from bad to worse if the bracelet showed up among the items in Cherie’s personal safe.

  Ross exchanged the safes and put Cherie’s on the desk. After a thorough rifling, they stood back and regarded each other solemnly. “It’s definitely not here,” Ross admitted. Even though it was the outcome Madeline had been hoping for, it didn’t conclusively point to Helen as the thief.

  “We should check Vivian’s room,” she said.

  “We can’t. It’s still cordoned off.”

  Madeline sagged against the desk, uncertain what the next move should be. The only prudent course of action was to call Detective Slovitch, but that was risky. If the police searched the rooms and found the bracelet, there went the hope of throwing suspicion away from Cherie. The longer Madeline entertained the notion of Helen being behind the theft of all four of Vivian’s missing pieces, the more she warmed to it. Not only did it tie nicely together with Vivian’s murder, but it practically guaranteed that Helen was responsible for Teresa’s brutal death as well. All three crimes dovetailed into place when Helen was inserted as the perpetrator, whereas they remained random and disjointed without her.

  “I think it’s time to call the police,” Madeline said. “Your mother’s bedroom has to be searched.”

  Ross didn’t say anything at first. Madeline could now see he had become invested in casting Helen as the villain, as painful as it must’ve been to embrace the idea of the woman he trusted the most killing the woman he had loved all his life.

  “Make the call.”

  “I’m still concerned about Helen getting suspicious. If we’re right,” Madeline said, her voice low so only Ross could hear her, “desperation might make her do something reckless.”

  “As soon as you make the call, I’ll ask her to bring some coffee.”

  Madeline nodded and retrieved her phone from her purse. She called Detective Slovitch’s cell number as she walked to the north-facing window to be out of hearing distance from Alice.

  “John Slovitch,” the detective answered. Madeline gave him a succinct accounting of her hypothesis, stressing the urgency of searching the primary victim’s rooms for the missing bracelet. Before she could finish, Detective Slovitch interrupted her.

  “I just got a call from your partner. He requested police backup in Reseda. He witnessed Kris Bagley going in the rear entrance of a pawnshop. According to the detective I spoke to, the owner of the shop has a prior for fencing stolen goods. A search confirmed Kris was carrying some hot rocks. A very expensive
looking diamond bracelet. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a solid motive for murder.”

  Madeline held her hand over the phone and turned toward Ross. “Ask Helen for the coffee now,” she said, her heart pounding. Ross wasted no time. He crossed to the door and opened it to yell out his request.

  “Helen!” he called out while Madeline resumed her conversation with Slovitch. “Can you bring me some coffee?” he said, sheltering the view inside his study with the door. “Just one,” he answered. When he closed the door, Madeline ended her call with Slovitch.

  “He was already headed over here,” she informed Ross. “It appears Kris Bagley was caught red-handed with your mother’s bracelet.”

  FORTY

  Within minutes, the sound of gravel crunching under the tires of two vehicles could be heard as they pulled up and parked in front of the house. Ross opened the door of his study just as Helen reached for the front door handle with her free hand, balancing a tray with a French press and a china cup and saucer on the other. Before she knew what was happening, two uniformed officers stepped into the foyer, one relieving the housekeeper of her task while the other placed cuffs around her wrists.

  “Helen Bagley, you are under the arrest for grand larceny,” Slovitch said, holding up his badge as he began reciting the Miranda warning.

  “How could you do this?” Ross screamed, charging down the hallway toward his housekeeper. “Did you kill my mother because she caught you stealing? Answer me! Did you kill my mother?”

  Helen’s wordless expression of shock and fear betrayed her guilt. Before anyone could stop him, Ross backhanded her across the face. Helen gasped at the sudden attack and the venom with which it was delivered. Tears sprang to her eyes and she shook with indignity at being humiliated and restrained like a common criminal. Detective Slovitch pulled Ross away from her and swung him across the foyer.

  “You have the right to remain silent,” Slovitch continued. “Anything you say may be used in evidence against you in a court of law. Do you understand?” Helen nodded morosely.

  “After all I’ve given you, after all the years I’ve supported you and your worthless son,” Ross spat as he recovered his balance, “you thank me by killing my mother?” Slovitch interrupted himself once more and motioned for the officers to take Helen to the car.

  “No, no—not yet,” Ross said, backing up slightly as Slovitch tried to keep him at bay. “I’ve got to hear from this monster why she did this to me,” Ross insisted, all semblance of self-control gone. “Why? Why did you kill her?” Ross beseeched her as tears streamed down his face.

  The muscles in Helen’s jaws clinched as she strained to keep from crying. “I never planned to hurt Vivian,” she said as tears began to trickle down her face. “But she figured out I was the one who took her jewelry,” she continued, shooting a look of pure loathing at Madeline. “She wanted me to return the pieces, but I couldn’t do that. They were already gone.” Helen hung her head for a moment as she mustered what was left of her pride. “She was going to tell you, and I couldn’t bear that.” Helen sniffed back her tears and looked dejectedly at Ross.

  “But why did you steal from her? I pay you two-hundred grand a year! If you needed more money, you could’ve come to me,” Ross said plaintively, as though he could renegotiate the past. “Her life was worth more than a few pieces of jewelry…” his voice trailed off as he stared at Helen. Contempt took the place of grief as the reality of his betrayal sank in. As his features hardened, so did Helen’s. She pulled herself up to her full height, her face contorted by a condescending sneer.

  “What did you ever care for any of us?” she hissed. “You threw Linda and your girls away just as you did with Kris. And when you couldn’t deal with your current bimbo wife, you brought your mother in to take your place. Is it really any surprise that your egocentric, self-serving existence has come back to haunt you? What did you expect when you treat people like they’re disposable commodities?”

  The blood drained out of Ross’s face while he listened to Helen’s tirade. The rancor in her voice seemed to pierce his heart. He slumped against the banister as Detective Slovitch gave a nod to the patrolmen to escort Helen out the door.

  “The bracelet Kris Bagley was caught trying to hock was recovered,” Slovitch said, directing his report to Ross. “The LAPD is going to put out a search for the other pieces. If you have photos, send them to me and I’ll pass them along.”

  Reaching the zenith of his emotional endurance, Ross staggered down the hallway to his study. Madeline hurried to catch up with the detective as he walked out the door.

  “I believe Helen is also responsible for Teresa’s murder,” she said, keeping a wary eye on the disgraced housekeeper. “I think the coroner will find her wound consistent with a knife taken from the caterer’s sous chef the night of the party. I can find out exactly what type of knife it was and let you know. If we’re really lucky, there might be some video footage of her going into the kitchen with Teresa in tow.” Slovitch regarded her for a moment.

  “You seem to have a knack for this, don’t you?” he said, catching Madeline off-guard with the unexpected compliment. The detective left her standing there as she absorbed the ramifications of all that had just transpired. She turned away as the patrol cars headed for the exit, not wishing to see that malevolent face again.

  She went back inside and encountered Alice, who was still standing in the foyer, rooted to the spot by the shock of what had transpired. They regarded each other resignedly, both wrung out by the drama they had just witnessed and the awkwardness of being the last two people standing among the ashes.

  “Thank you for coming, Alice. Things will never be the same in this house, but at least Cherie will be coming home. I’m sure she’ll need your help now more than ever.”

  Alice wiped the corners of her eyes and sniffed back the tears. She tried to smile but the gravity of the losses to the Alexander household made it hard to shake the deep sadness she felt. She crumpled into sobs as Madeline put her arms around her.

  Elaine and one of the other domestics appeared in the hallway off the kitchen. They came forward, their cautious footfalls mirroring their trepidation.

  “What happened now?” Elaine asked as she peeked out the doorway at the departing police vehicles. It was certainly a fair question, after all the horrific surprises of the last two days.

  “Helen was just arrested for stealing from Miss Story. She also admitted to killing her.” Madeline said, causing both girls to gasp. There was no point in sugarcoating it; the house staff no longer had a leader and the family they served was too wounded to take charge. “It will fall to you, Elaine, to take over Helen’s duties for now. Cherie is out of danger and will be coming home. That’s the good news.” Having done all she could, Madeline left Alice with the others to commiserate.

  She found Ross in his study throwing back the contents of a highball glass. She stood in the doorway, her shoulder braced against the jamb. A drink sounded awfully good to her, but so did getting as far away from the Alexander estate as possible.

  “Thank you,” Ross said, his gaze dropping back to his empty glass. Madeline nodded. It belatedly hit her that she had solved her first case under her own license, and she was sure it was one she’d never forget. Now that Helen had admitted to killing Vivian, Madeline had no doubt she was responsible for Teresa’s murder, too. But proving that was out of her hands. The police and the D.A. would have to work that out.

  “Do you think Helen’s responsible for that girl’s death?” Ross asked, picking up on her thoughts.

  “I do. Now that we know Helen committed the robberies and the first murder, it stands to reason she viewed Teresa as a liability. After going to such lengths, I don’t think Helen was willing to take any chances. Teresa could’ve walked in and caught Helen in the act, or your mother could’ve confided her suspicions to her earlier. Or maybe the girl was ignor
ant of both and just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. We may never know. It’s a tragedy, either way,” Madeline said, pushing herself away from the doorway to retrieve her handbag. She hadn’t felt this emotionally and physically exhausted in years. By the looks of him, neither had Ross.

  “Is there anything else I can do before I go?” she asked. The thought of Madeline leaving seemed to jar Ross back to the present.

  “I guess I need to settle up with you,” he said, taking a key from his pocket to unlock a desk drawer. Madeline was so surprised by the gesture, she almost laughed.

  “Oh, no—don’t worry about that now,” she said, waving her hands as if to erase the idea. “That can wait. Right now, you need to let Cherie know she’s in the clear and she’ll be home soon. And hopefully you can get some rest!” she said, her voice betraying the lightheartedness she was starting to feel. The nightmare was over, and both she and Ross could sense it now. She smiled at him and turned to go.

  “Madeline, I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” Ross said. She nodded sagely.

  “It’s all part of the job,” she said, making them both twitter with delirious fatigue.

  She was relieved not to find anyone loitering in the foyer. She let herself out, hoping it would be the last time she passed over that threshold.

  Madeline had just cleared the mob scene outside the gates when her cell phone rang.

  “Good work, partner,” she said, her face now beaming with pride.

  “Same to you, partner,” Mike replied.

  “They just took Helen away in handcuffs. Ross went ballistic on her and she pretty much admitted to Vivian’s murder.”

  “Awesome. I can’t believe it’s over,” Mike said, his voice jubilant.

  “I know. I’m still trying to absorb it all. I’m so glad you dug around in Kris Bagley’s patch. Great instincts, Mike.”