Fruit of the Poisoned Tree plgm-2

by Joyce Lavene

  “I’ll bet he loved that.” Steve helped her hold back the plants so she could get her hands on the small door. “We’re going in through there?”

  “It’s big enough,” she assured him, trying to move the door. “John was larger than you, and he got through.”

  “Well if John could get through . . .”

  Peggy looked at him sharply. “I didn’t mean it that way. Just that his hips and shoulders were broader than yours, even when he was younger.”

  Steve moved closer to the house and pushed open the warped door in the foundation. He shoved it against the bricks beside it. The doorway behind it was little more than a three-by-three-foot aperture covered in spiderwebs. “I hope you brought a flashlight. I thought we were going in through a real door.”

  She brushed past him and turned on the penlight attached to her keychain. “This should be plenty. There’s a light switch on the opposite wall. All we have to do is get to it.” She used the light to peer into the blackness. It really didn’t look like anyone had been down there for thirty years.

  “I’m right behind you,” he said as she seemed to hesitate.

  “That’s comforting. Watch your knees. You have to crawl through this first part. There are some nails and jagged cement pieces on the ground.”

  “Was this part set up to be some kind of booby trap for a would-be robber?” Steve pushed himself in through the hole in the wall behind Peggy. “If so, it’s original, but an alarm system would probably be better.”

  “No. There’s an alarm system in the house. Just not down here. Mai told me it was off, so that shouldn’t be a problem anyway. This used to be a coal chute. They closed it off when they switched to gas heat.” Peggy moved awkwardly across the rough ground, mostly feeling her way. She bumped her knee against one of the cement chunks and scraped her hand on a nail. The light from the flashlight bounced on the walls around them. “Thank goodness it’s winter, or those awful cricket spiders would be down here, too. I hate those things. They jump up at you when you least expect them.”

  “I didn’t know there was some kind of bug you didn’t like,” Steve said, scratching the palm of his hand on a rough piece of wood that jutted out into his path. “I didn’t think that kind of thing bothered you.”

  “Of course,” she countered. “Everybody doesn’t like something.”

  Steve grinned. “But nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee?”

  “That’s the truth! I wish I didn’t. Thank goodness I ride the bike everywhere. It’s the only thing that keeps me small.”

  “That,” Steve grunted as he scraped his knee on some concrete, “and the fact that you never have any food in your house.”

  “Where’s that light switch?” She felt around on the wall. “It was right here somewhere.”

  “Maybe someone found out about you getting in this way and took it out. How many times would you let someone crawl into your house from the basement before you took care of the problem?”

  “Shh!” Peggy unerringly found his mouth with her hand. “Did you hear that?”

  “What?” he managed to whisper around her hand.

  “Someone’s in the house.”

  They sat in the dark crawl space and listened as footsteps and voices came closer until they were right above their heads.

  “We have to do this now.” The woman’s voice was muffled but understandable. “If we don’t, the executor will or they’ll hire someone to sort through it. If we want anything, we better get it now. Otherwise, all this has been for nothing.”

  “I know that voice,” Peggy whispered. “It’s Cindy. Park’s ex-wife. What’s she doing here?”

  “She’s going through the house.” Steve moved, trying to find a spot that didn’t have something that poked into his butt. “I suppose the old lady had plenty of stuff to steal.”

  “Plenty,” Peggy confirmed. “But Cindy was always such a dear friend of Isabelle’s. Even after she and Park broke up. I can’t believe she’d steal from her.”

  “People will do anything they think they can get away with, I guess.”

  “But who’s with her? She’s not talking to herself.”

  “Her jewelry is locked in a chest upstairs.” Cindy spoke again. “Those are probably the most valuable items. We should start up there.”

  “I guess you better start believing Cindy could steal from Isabelle,” Steve remarked. “She knows exactly what to look for and what she wants.”

  “But who’s she talking to?” Peggy wondered again. “We need to know who the other person is before we call the police.”

  “There’s those eggs, too. Those Russian eggs are worth some money. She was always so particular about those. They had to be turned every day. Glad I kept them clean now!”

  “That’s Alice Godwin!” Peggy started crawling back toward the crawl space door.

  “Wait a minute!” Steve hit his head on a floor joist as he tried to stop her. He groaned but kept going. “These women might be responsible for killing Isabelle. They’re probably not going to like it if you interfere. Let’s call 911. Are you listening to me at all?”

  But Peggy wasn’t listening. She pushed past the spiderwebs and climbed out of the small doorway in the wall. The two women Isabelle trusted most in the world had turned on her. As cranky and unbending as Park’s mother was, the thought of those two women hitting her in the head and pushing her down the stairs to steal from her struck a chord in Peggy. Maybe it was because she lived alone, too. She wasn’t going to let the two traitors get away.

  Steve was frantically dialing 911 on his cell phone as he followed her outside. “I’d like to report a possible homicide. And maybe one in progress.” The woman who responded at the switchboard asked for the address. He couldn’t remember it. “A woman was killed here recently. Isabelle Lamonte. I’m at her house. Can you send someone, please?”

  Peggy was already angrily pounding on the front door as Steve rounded the corner of the house. He put away his cell phone, hoping the police would respond quickly. Before he could reach her, the heavy front door opened, and Peggy confronted Alice Godwin.

  “What do you want now?” the housekeeper demanded. “You’re always butting into other people’s business! I think you should leave, or you might have a serious accident!”

  “You can start by handing over the ivory dragon’s head from Isabelle’s walking stick.” Peggy pushed past her, not intimidated by her words. She stood in the foyer, tapping her foot impatiently, covered in dust and spiderwebs. “And you can come out, too, Cindy. I know you’re here.”

  Park’s ex-wife peeked around the corner from the library. She blinked nervously. “Peggy? What are you doing here? I just came here with Alice to help her . . . uh . . . clean up. I knew the place would be a mess. You know Isabelle hated that.”

  “I’ve been listening to murderers and thieves!” Peggy glared at her. “Don’t bother to deny it, either one of you. I heard every word from the crawl space.”

  “The crawl space?” Alice couldn’t believe it. “You must be crazy! What were you doing down there?”

  “We didn’t kill anyone,” Cindy persuaded. “She called me when she found Isabelle. Maybe she’s responsible. But I’m not. I took a few things, but I would never—”

  “What are you saying?” The housekeeper turned on her. “I told you I found her dead. I didn’t kill her.” She glared at Peggy and Steve. “It was Cindy’s idea to steal her stuff. She said she had plenty, and the family wouldn’t miss a few trinkets. God’amighty, Miz Isabelle had enough of it! Not like she’ll miss it now!”

  “Like the ivory dragon’s head?” Peggy’s chest was still heaving from running up to the house, but she considered the two conspirators calmly. “Did you take that after you hit her in the head with the cane?”

  The other two women stared at each other. Steve stood behind Peggy, glancing out the open front door, wishing the police would get there quickly.

  “You bitch!” Cindy launched herself at the housek
eeper.

  Alice screamed and fell backward under the younger woman’s impact, but she was broader and stronger. It only took a moment for her to get the upper hand. She pulled Cindy’s too-fluffy blond hair and punched her in her pretty blue eyes. Peggy stepped aside, watching them roll across the foyer.

  “Aren’t you going to do something?” Steve asked.

  “Like what? They’re getting what they deserve. I say let them kill each other.”

  With a heavy sigh, Steve stepped in to stop the women from hurting each other. Cindy raked his face with long, red fingernails. Alice landed a punch to his right eye. Peggy was about to step into the fray to save him when the doorway was filled with several police officers.

  “What the hell is going on here?” the first officer demanded, pushing back his hat. “This is a crime scene, in case none of you noticed. Are any of you related to the deceased?”

  “You need to arrest these two women for the murder of Isabelle Lamonte as well as stealing from her,” Peggy told him. “I heard them talking. They’re responsible for what happened here.”

  “And who are you? Don’t tell me you’re a private investigator?” The officer stared down at her.

  “I’m Dr. Margaret Lee from Queens University. I’m here on behalf of the family.”

  “Are they teaching crime solving at Queens now?” the officer half smiled at her. “If they are, maybe I need to go there and brush up on my basic skills.” The other officers laughed with him.

  Peggy glanced back at the two women, who had stopped fighting. They were both sitting on the floor, nursing their wounds, breathing hard, probably wondering how they were going to get out of this mess. “I teach botany,” she declared proudly. “But I can testify against these two women.”

  The officer looked past her at Steve, whose clothes were dirty and ripped, his hair standing almost straight up on his head and covered with spiderwebs. “And where do you fit into this? Are you a student or a murder suspect?”

  “I’m a vet,” he answered. “And I was just trying to keep these women from killing each other until you got here! What took so long?”

  “What’s going on here, Officers?” Al’s booming voice broke through the sarcasm and explanations.

  “We got a call about a possible homicide here, Detective,” the lead officer explained.

  “I know that, son. That’s why I’m here.” Al saw Peggy’s face and put his hands over his eyes. But his voice was calm. “Okay. I can handle this from here.”

  The officer looked at the two women on the floor. “I don’t know. This is a pretty rowdy crowd, sir. Maybe we should call in SWAT.”

  Alice started crying and rocking her body back and forth. “I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done. Do you know what she gave me every year for Christmas, the rotten old miser? A plate of cookies. That’s it. Twenty years of service. I was there for her when no one else would bother with her. She gave me cookies. I deserve the head on that cane. I deserve some compensation.”

  The foyer was suddenly silent after her outburst. No one was expecting her to confess to what happened while they were standing there.

  Al nodded. “I guess I was wrong about not needing your help, Officer. Would you please take both of these women to the precinct? I think I might have some questions for them.”

  “What about them?” The officer inclined his head toward Peggy and Steve.

  “I’d like to take them in, too, but they probably weren’t doing anything wrong except snooping around where they don’t belong. I don’t think the DA would prosecute them for being annoying, much as he’d like to. Although if it keeps happening, that might be another story.”

  Steve straightened his shirt and hair as he got to his feet. Peggy cleared her throat and tried not to look smug as Cindy and Alice were escorted from the house.

  Al turned on them. “What are you doing here? Didn’t we agree you’d stay out of this?”

  Peggy held her head up high despite the dust and spiderwebs covering it. “I knew the ivory dragon’s head had to be part of this. You wouldn’t even have known it was gone if it wasn’t for me.”

  “I see,” Al replied. “I guess that clears both women of murder then, right? If they’ve had the top of the walking stick all this time, they wouldn’t have bothered looking through your house, would they? You did say the killer looked through your house?”

  Peggy opened her mouth to argue, then stopped abruptly. What he said made sense. Why hadn’t she seen it? Too emotionally involved, she supposed. Too eager to find any different conclusion that would clear Beth that she didn’t realize she had the wrong one.

  “Or the break-in at your house wasn’t involved.” Al chuckled, seeing her at a loss for words. “That’s why they pay us the big bucks to find out how these things happen. Go home, Peggy. Steve, I’m surprised at you getting involved in something like this.”

  “Me, too.” Steve was sure he looked as ridiculous as he felt. “I’ll take her home, Al. Thanks.”

  “I shouldn’t tell you this, but you did help with figuring out the whole poisoned honey thing,” Al gave Peggy a bone. “We picked up Fletcher Davis this morning and took him in for questioning. The Philly police found his fingerprints all over the rooms Mr. Lamonte and Mr. Hollings stayed in. Security cameras picked him up going in and out of the rooms. I think we’ve got that part dead to rights. He poisoned the lawyers who were involved in the estuary case to stop the oil company.”

  “What about Beth?” Peggy wondered.

  “I’ll let you know.” Al shrugged. “This looks bad for the housekeeper. Maybe it will get your friend off the hook for that killing, too. Maybe we were wrong about the two killings being linked. Maybe it was just coincidence.”

  “Thanks, Al.” Peggy followed him out of the house. “Were all of the men who were poisoned working for the same company as Park? Were they all poisoned by horse chestnut honey?”

  “Three of them, all staying at the same hotel as Park. The fourth man we’re not sure about yet. We’re still waiting for more information.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “You’ve done your part now, Peggy. You pointed us in the right direction. Please stay out of it. Read the papers or watch TV news like everyone else.”

  Peggy’s glance snapped up to his broad face. “Shouldn’t I be getting some sort of stipend for helping out instead of threats? You know, the next time you can’t figure something out, I might not be so willing to help.”

  Al took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. “Get her out of here, Steve. I don’t think I can take any more.”

  “Yes, sir.” Steve hurried Peggy toward his SUV. “I think now might be a good time to make a strategic retreat.”

  “AND THIS IS LIVE footage from Queens University this morning as the leader of a left-wing conservation group known only as Tomorrow’s Children, is shown being put in a van by local law enforcement. He’s being identified as twenty-five-year-old Fletcher Davis, a graduate student at Yale who was working at Queens on a sabbatical assignment. Mr. Davis is a suspect in an apparent murder in the death of Park Lamonte, the attorney killed when his car went off the Interstate 485 ramp. There will be more on this as events unfold. This is Mark Shipton in uptown Charlotte. Back to you, Marvin.”

  David and Hunter sat in the Potting Shed with Sam and Peggy as they watched the news at noon on television. “It looks like that part is over anyway,” Sam said as he finished his turkey sandwich.

  “I was right about Park being poisoned in Philadelphia. I can’t believe I helped that man escape the police.” Peggy anguished. “It might have saved Park’s life if they’d picked him up then.”

  Hunter swallowed the last of her diet Pepsi. “Sometimes you can’t see all the puzzle pieces until you get them together.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sam demanded. “Peggy did the best she could in the situation.”

  “I’m not saying she didn’t.” Hunter shrugged and looked at David for backup. “I�
�m just saying things aren’t always the way they appear.”

  “That’s true.” David rose to the occasion. “But even though this might solve what happened to Park, it doesn’t explain what happened to his mother.”

  “You weren’t here when Peggy first came in,” Sam said. He explained about the two women who were in Isabelle’s house that morning. “I think the chances are pretty good one or both of them did it for the money.”

  “I suppose that makes sense.” David shrugged. “That should help Beth.”

  “The break-in at your house must’ve been random,” Hunter gently suggested to Peggy. “Maybe they didn’t have time to steal anything. You were lucky.”

  “Maybe,” Peggy said, not sure if she agreed about the random part.

  “Since there were two of them, maybe the housekeeper and the ex-wife went through your house to throw off the investigation,” Sam suggested. “You remember? The police thought it might be more than one person who did that to your house. That would make sense.”

  “At this point, anything is still possible,” Peggy agreed. A customer came in, and she left her place behind the counter where they’d been watching TV and eating lunch.

  “We need to go.” Hunter nudged David. “Not much time before you have to get back to work.”

  “You’re right.” He kissed her forehead. “We better get going.”

  When they were gone and Peggy’s customer was done ordering a hundred Jerusalem artichokes, Sam shook his head. “I don’t know if I can get used to seeing them together.”

  Peggy smiled as she processed the order into the computer. “Jealous?”

  “No! Nauseated. Disgusted. Not jealous.” He pushed back his blond hair with an impatient hand. “They’re sickening together. I mean, nobody really acts like that.”

  “You haven’t been to the park on a nice day, have you?” She laughed. “Lots of people act like that. They’re called lovers. I acted like that when John and I first got together.”