“This is a very organized woman,” Brett answered. “I don’t think she leaves much to chance. Anyway, she said she would meet us in the clubhouse near the bar. She suggested we make the meeting look like an accident.”
“Excuse me?”
“She didn’t want it known that she had called us for a meeting. She suggested that we act as though we were looking around the Field Club again and had accidentally run into her.” He smiled. “I told you she was an organizer.”
“Sounds pushy to me,” Kathleen commented. Brett laughed, which irritated her; she didn’t know why and she’d be damned before she asked.
As it turned out, they ran into Ellen Cooper as they were entering the clubhouse, and since no one else was around, there was no need to act as if this were anything other than a planned meeting. Refusing yet another offer of coffee or something to eat, they all sat down in the clubhouse meeting room; a large, intentionally imposing space with tables and chairs enough for a hundred people. But they arranged themselves before a fireplace filled with fresh flowers at one end of the room.
“Well,” started Ellen, sitting down. “How can I help you?”
“You called us” was Brett’s response.
“Is there something you want to tell us?” Kathleen asked more gently.
“Well, I don’t want to, but I believe that I should. I’ve thought about it and thought about it and I really feel that I have to tell you.”
“Oh?” Kathleen made the syllable sound as gentle as possible. Was this a confession?
“Of course, maybe you know already?” Ellen sounded cheered by the thought.
“We won’t know if we know until you tell us what it is,” Brett explained, none too clearly. “If there is anything you know that we might not know, then you should tell us.”
“I really feel that it is almost a civic duty.”
Well, thought Kathleen, it wasn’t going to be a confession. Her next guess was that the information was more likely to qualify as slightly dirty gossip. Ellen Cooper’s next words proved her hunch.
“Do you know that Paula Porter and Kevin Dobbs were having an affair?” Her eyes were open wide. “I’m not spreading gossip. I just think that you should have all the information available.”
“Do you think that Kevin Dobbs killed her?” Kathleen asked, trying to remember just where she had heard that name before. He wasn’t one of the teachers, was he? Maybe the gym teacher?
Brett’s memory was more accurate. “You mean the young man who worked at the Club? The one who got the kids away from the body?”
“Yes, he took them to one of the back tennis courts. That’s him,” Ellen confirmed.
“His father is … ?”
“Doug Dobbs.” Ellen supplied the name he had forgotten.
“Oh, that’s right,” Kathleen suddenly remembered. “His mother’s name is Nancy.”
“Stepmother,” Ellen corrected. “She’s pregnant again, you know. It was one of the big topics of conversation last night at the party. She’ll be feeling tired very soon. I really should bake a cake and take it over to the kids some evening.”
Brett felt she was veering off the topic. “Can you tell us how much you know about this affair, Mrs. Cooper?”
“Not very much,” she admitted. “Everyone knows about it, I think. It’s been going on all summer. That is, people have seen the two of them going into the storage shed out by the back tennis courts since spring …”
“The same tennis courts where Kevin took the kids after Mrs. Porter’s death?” Brett asked, becoming more and more interested.
“Yes. I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think it means something?”
“I don’t know,” Brett admitted, “but it is something to keep in mind. Go on.”
“Well, really, that’s all. I know people said that Paula was looking for an affair. That’s why she lost all that weight in the spring, but I don’t know if that’s the case.”
“What would you say the difference in their ages was?” Brett asked.
“Oh well. Kevin is going to college in the fall. Yale, you know. But he skipped a grade when he was in elementary school, so he’s ahead of himself. He’s sixteen. And I know Paula was thirty-nine. She’s been talking about the party she was going to give herself for her fortieth birthday sometime in January. So she’s twenty-three years older than he is. Or she was, rather.”
“But just why did people think they were having an affair?” Kathleen asked. “Did either of them tell anyone about it?”
“I don’t think they said anything. But what else would they be doing in the tennis shed every afternoon? Counting tennis balls? And everyone commented on how relaxed they both were when they came out.” She shrugged; to her the answer was obvious.
“Do you think Dr. Porter or Kevin’s parents knew about it?”
“Well, Jack Porter is a nice man, but a workaholic. I don’t think he had the time to know about anything except his own work. I know Paula complained about how little time he spent with her and the kids. They had four kids, you know.”
“And the Dobbses? Do you think they knew?”
“Not a chance. You don’t know the Dobbses. If they had known about this, all hell would have broken loose.”
“They would have been upset?” Brett asked, hoping for a better description.
“Would they ever. Well, not Nancy, probably. She’s too wrapped up in love and motherhood and apple pie. You know that she’s Dan Dobbs’s second wife, don’t you? I mean, Kevin isn’t really her child. Not that you could tell that from the way she treats them. She’s a wonderful mother. Always baking and sewing and taking care of those kids. You really couldn’t tell which ones are hers and which are the kids of the first wife. She’s done a great job.”
“How many kids are there?” Brett asked.
“Eight.”
“And how many are hers?”
“Five, and one more on the way. But I said that, didn’t I?”
“And what do you think her reaction would be if she found out Kevin was involved with a woman so much older than himself?”
“I think she would be upset, but not mad. Not in the long run. She would probably be madder at Paula than at Kevin. She tends to think her kids can do no wrong. And it would be easy to think that Paula should have known better. But I don’t think she would kill Paula. Not at all!”
“And her husband’s reaction?”
“Well, that’s different. Doug wouldn’t have killed Paula if he thought his own son was sleeping with her, he’d have killed Kevin!”
“Really?”
Ellen Cooper shook her head, dismayed. “He is horribly strict with his own children. He has very firm ideas about the way his kids should and should not act. I don’t know quite how to explain him. And I don’t want you to jump to the wrong conclusions because of something I’ve told you.”
Brett wondered if, in fact, she did hope they would jump to just the conclusion she had been telling them about, but did she realize that she was leading them into suspecting Kevin and not his father? “Don’t worry, Mrs. Cooper,” he said. “It’s a little early in the game to expect any conclusions.”
“You mean this investigation could go on for some time?” The thought obviously distressed her.
“Possibly. It’s really too early to tell. But you have been a very big help.” He stood up and Kathleen quickly followed. “We’ll be getting back to you if we have any questions, if we may.”
Startled that the interview was coming to such an abrupt end, Mrs. Cooper stood up herself and looked around the room as if in search of something. “Are you … are you going to question Kevin and his parents?” she asked, seeming to think of nothing else to say.
“Yes, right away, in fact,” Brett said. “Could you give Detective Somerville directions to the Dobbs house? I’m going to use the men’s room and wash up.” He turned to Ellen. “Thank you for your information. We appreciate it. And now, if you’ll excuse me?”
; Kathleen stemmed the other woman’s gushing reply long enough to figure out the drive to the Dobbses’, all the time thinking that Brett had stopped this interview too quickly, that there must be something else to learn here. But what?
She didn’t know. But there was something.
“She’s trying to mislead us” was Brett’s analysis, when they were alone again in the car.
“You think she’s lying about the affair?”
“Oh, I don’t think she would be making that up. She says that everyone knows about it, so we’ll be able to check on the facts. I think, though, that she’s hoping that we’ll concentrate on this and forget about something else.”
“What else?”
“I haven’t the foggiest,” he admitted. “But we’ll find out eventually, whether the people of Hancock want us to or not.
“Twenty-two Grant Place, right? We’re right down the street from the Ames house, aren’t we?”
Kathleen agreed and then asked, “If you think Ellen Cooper was trying to mislead us, then why are we here?”
“Because the Dobbses’ name has come up too many times and I want to meet them. Besides, maybe I’m interested in what sort of sixteen-year-old boy appeals to a thirty-nine-year-old woman.”
“Sure.” Kathleen didn’t smile. “So why are you going to tell them we’re here?”
“We’re investigating a murder, remember? We have to check out everything. Well, I wonder if this is Kevin himself coming toward us?”
Kathleen looked out the window and decided that this sixteen-year-old boy would appeal to most any woman. To her surprise, the first thing he did was open the back door of the car and fling himself into the back seat.
“Look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just get this car out of here before my parents come home from church. Please,” the young man begged with an intensity that would have been hard to deny.
Brett responded by pulling the car out of the driveway and back out to the road without taking the time to ask questions. “Any idea where we can go to talk?” he did ask when they had driven a few blocks from the house.
“Turn left up there,” the young man replied. “Then keep going. It will lead you to the old road that goes to the reservoir. It’s the local lovers’ lane, but no one will be there on a Sunday morning.”
“Anything you say.” Brett swung the car to the left and Kathleen turned and smiled uncertainly at the boy in the back. He was so nervous she felt miserable for him, and this, she guessed, would always be his effect on women. Here was a young man who attracted sympathy. She’d better leave his questioning up to Brett.
But Brett seemed in no hurry to ask anything. He drove the car along the street until they came to a dirt road. A sign indicated the way to the reservoir. Without questions, he followed that road until the imprints in the now dry dirt indicated the parking area the boy had spoken of. He rolled over into one of the spots with a view of the water, stopped the car, turned off the motor, and … nothing. He didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t say anything, but he managed to convey to Kathleen that he expected her to follow suit.
The silence was broken by Kevin himself.
“Thanks. I don’t know what my dad would do if he knew you were coming to question me. I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds out about this anyway.”
“About the affair you were having with Mrs. Porter?” Kathleen asked. Brett glared at her, but said nothing. Kevin seemed glad she had brought the matter out into the open and was almost anxious to talk about it.
“Yes, that’s it. Our affair. My father is very old-fashioned. Not just about sex, but about everything. He’d kill me if he knew that Mrs. Porter and I were sleeping together.”
“You were seen by many people going into the shed by the back tennis courts, you know. I mean, it seems that a lot of folks knew about you and Mrs. Porter. Your father may hear about it sometime,” Kathleen suggested.
Kevin sat back and appeared to think about it for a minute. “Well, I would know if Dad knew about it already. And there’s really no reason for him to know now that Mrs. Porter is dead, is there?”
“It may have to become common knowledge at the inquest, if it has any bearing on her death,” Brett said.
“Oh, it doesn’t, sir,” Kevin said. “I’d know about that, wouldn’t I? And I can assure you that this has nothing to do with it.”
“When did your affair with Mrs. Porter begin?” Brett asked. Kathleen thought that he seemed almost indifferent to the question and equally disinterested in the answer.
“Let me think. April or May,” Kevin answered. “No, I remember: April.”
“You’re sure?” Brett asked sharply.
Kathleen stared at him.
“April. I remember now. It was April.”
“Were you a virgin?” Brett asked.
“Uh, excuse me, sir?”
“I asked if you were a virgin when you started sleeping with Mrs. Porter? Was she your first affair?”
“Yes.” Kevin looked out over the lake, avoiding the eyes of those in the front seat. “I always liked her,” he added, seeming to think that more was expected of him. “She approached me one day. When I was out practicing my backhand. She was a very attractive woman and I was curious and … well, it happened.”
“And you’ve been meeting every day since then?”
“Well, no, not every day, but most days, I guess. Until she died, of course …” He still kept his eyes away from theirs. “I’ll miss her,” he added, but Kathleen thought that maybe he was more relieved that the affair had ended than he was willing to let them know.
“I’m sure you will,” said Brett. Kathleen looked at him closely. Was that sarcasm?
“You were at the Field Club the day she died?” Brett asked.
“Yes. But I didn’t go near the pool. I was assigned to look after the tennis courts. We all have posts. There are four boys hired for the summer. Just to look after things and generally be available to help out. Our stations are changed each week. This was my tennis-court week.”
“But you have time to leave your station? To eat lunch and visit the tennis shed and things like that?”
Kevin looked down at his shoes. “Yes,” he answered unwillingly. “But I didn’t go near Mrs. Porter that day. I had brought my lunch and I was going to eat it near the courts. She was going … she had told me that she would join me at the shed later in the day.”
“And she didn’t show up?”
“No.”
“So how did you find out that she had been killed?” Brett probed.
“I heard the screaming near the pool and I went to investigate. After all, we’re hired to help out wherever there’s a problem. I went to see what was going on. I didn’t know that it had anything to do with Mrs. Porter.”
“I see. And you took the kids back to the tennis courts when you discovered what had happened?”
“It seemed like a good idea to get them out of there. The courts were the first place I could think of. I could keep an eye on them all there, see? If I had taken them to the golf course—which is also away from it all—they would have taken off and we would have spent a month getting them back. You know kids,” he ended, the wisdom of being the oldest of a large family apparent.
“Yes.” Brett didn’t sound interested in the answers to his questions. “You didn’t always call her Mrs. Porter, I assume?”
“No, of course not. But I always had to call her that in public. It’s a habit. Look, do you think my dad is going to hear about this? Because if he does, it would be better if he heard it from me.”
Kathleen jumped in. “I think it would be wise for you to tell him.”
“I guess you’re right.” He sighed. “I’ll do it now while I have the courage, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. We’ll take you back home, won’t we, Detective Fortesque?”
“Sure. Why not?”
No one said anything on the way back to the Dobbses’ home. Kathlee
n thought that Kevin was probably trying to think of a way to tell his father of the affair. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him if his father was as horrible as everyone seemed to think. Brett drummed his fingernails against the steering wheel as he drove down the road, preoccupied or angry, Kathleen couldn’t decide which.
“We could drop you off a block or so from your house, if you think your parents might object to your arrival in a police car,” Brett offered.
“Thank you, sir. That would be great.”
The car slowed down at the corner exactly a block between the Ames house and the Dobbses’. Kevin started to get out of the back seat.
“Kevin?” Brett stopped him.
“Yes, sir?” He stopped with one foot on the ground and one in the car.
“Do you happen to remember where you were the day that Mrs. Ick was killed?”
“The day of the PTA lunch?”
“Yes.”
“I was at home. It was the week before finals. I was studying.”
“Did you go over to the house anytime during the day?”
Kevin hesitated. Or did he? Kathleen asked herself. Was she imagining it?
“I was over there in the afternoon after the murder,” he admitted.
“After the murder? Why?”
“Nancy—my stepmom—sent me over to see if there was anything I could do to help out.”
“She sent you over and told you to offer to help?”
“Yes.”
“And that must have been after she herself arrived home?”
“Yes, it was almost dinner time, I think,” he added.
“And did you help out?” Brett continued his questioning.
“No. I found Mrs. Ames and Mrs. Voos and asked them if there was anything that I could do. You know, cleaning up and all that. And they said no, so I went back home.
“Can I go now?” he asked, still in his awkward position.
“Sure.”
Kathleen and Brett watched him jog off toward his home.
“I wonder what he’s hiding,” Brett said.
Kathleen said nothing.
TWELVE
Murder at the PTA Luncheon Page 15