by Cathy Ace
“How you know this?” asked Svetlana snippily.
“Because a part of their plan was for the cops to get right in here, find Miss Shirley and the saber, hold us all, and have the finger of suspicion point at Ian as quickly as possible. The real killer collected the evidence of Miss Shirley’s plan—the gun—from the scene. And I believe they were planning to plant the gun behind the bar, where it could be inferred that Ian had hidden it. But we didn’t get out. The killer was stuck, we were all stuck.”
“And then?” Carl wasn’t looking very convinced that my ideas held water.
“Becoming trapped in this room wasn’t the only surprise for the killer. Clemence’s bombshell about Miss Shirley having twins was not something they’d expected.”
“None of us expected that,” said Art. “None of us had any idea that Miss Shirley had any children at all.”
“I think you’re wrong about that, Art,” I replied. “Clemence certainly knew, and maybe Miss Shirley had told her late husband, but there was one other person here who knew too. At least, they knew a part of the story. I believe that the killer knew they were Miss Shirley’s grandchild. They knew their father was her son, but didn’t know that she’d had twins.”
“That means it’s one of you two,” shouted Tom, glowering at Ian and Jimmy. “You are the only two who could be her grandson.”
“I didn’t say grandson, I said grandchild,” I replied.
“But there isn’t anyone here who could be Miss Shirley’s granddaughter,” said Art.
“I know,” I replied. “You’re right.”
“Tanya could have been her granddaughter,” said Jimmy, keen to defend himself. “You thought it was her at one point, right? I heard you talking to Tom about it.”
“Clearly Cait was wrong,” said Tom. “Whoever killed Miss Shirley and Jack Bullock also killed Tanya and Julie. That just leaves us.”
Tom was trembling with rage. I knew I had to address his suspicions before he acted.
“I’m sorry, Tom, I know this will be difficult for you, but that’s an incorrect supposition. I believe it was Tanya who killed Miss Shirley and Jack Bullock. Before you start shouting, let me explain why I believe that. A great deal hinges on Tanya’s father committing suicide. You told me she cleared out his house after he died. You also told me that her general attitude, and specifically her attitude toward Miss Shirley, changed shortly after that. I believe she found something that told her that Miss Shirley was her father’s mother. I can’t be sure, but I’m going to bet on it being a version of the photo that Miss Shirley carried with her, but a version that showed only Miss Shirley holding one baby. It’s the sort of thing a mother might pass on with a child they’ve surrendered. Tanya commented, when she saw the photograph, that Clemence was standing holding ‘another’ baby, not ‘the other’ baby. It was as though she wasn’t surprised by the idea of Miss Shirley having one child, but by the fact she’d had two. Tom?”
Tom raised his head a little and seemed to pay attention to me. “Whatever you say, I won’t believe that she did it.”
Bud stepped in. “Tom, Cait knows what she’s talking about. Listen.”
“Tom, you told me yourself that Tanya’s father had been protected by Miss Shirley on several occasions. Then there was Miss Shirley’s very useful introduction of a scholarship for a place at university just when Tanya needed it. I believe that Miss Shirley had traced Tanya’s father and knew he was her son. I believe that she supported him as best she could, by various means, over the years. Finally, when she knew she couldn’t help him anymore—when she decided to stop enabling his gambling habit—she switched her support directly to her granddaughter. Tanya’s father was a mess, you said as much, Tom. He’d followed a path that led him from disaster to disaster, and Tanya had been abandoned by her own mother at a very impressionable age.”
Although I’d mentioned my suspicions about Tanya to Tom earlier on, this was the first time that Art and Carl were considering her as a suspect. They looked interested, but puzzled.
“But she was just a girl,” said Art. “If she did it, and I’m not saying she did, Tom, what would have set her on such a path?”
I continued, “Tonight we have seen several types of grief displayed in this very room: Clemence’s response to Miss Shirley’s death—a woman I believe he has loved deeply since he first met her, Julie’s reactions to her husband’s demise, and Tom grappling with the loss of Tanya. Grief takes many different forms. As does the response to abandonment. Losing someone you love, whether they have died, or because they have left, or been taken away from you, is much the same thing. The human psyche has to make sense of that loss. There’s a well-known, though some would say questionable, concept of various ‘stages of grief.’ The idea addresses the fact that grief is something that needs to be ‘dealt with,’ psychologically speaking. Now is not the time for a discussion about whether I agree with one theory or another, but the fact is the theories exist because they need to. There’s a similar situation when it comes to abandonment—it’s just that it’s not so well recognized. Tanya’s mother walked away from her. Her father killed himself. She was abandoned twice.”
I took a breath and knew that what I was about to say wouldn’t carry much weight with every person in the room. “Clemence mentioned that when he was twenty-one years old, he thought he was a grown man. Maybe only those in this room over a certain age can understand how very young we are when we’re in our twenties. We think we know all the answers then. It’s not until we’re a good deal older that we realize we don’t even know all the questions. At Tanya’s age a person cannot comprehend what life still has to throw at one. Her mother left when she was a teen—a choice to leave her behind. Her father killed himself when she was just twenty-four—another person choosing to leave her. I’m sure she saw Miss Shirley’s choice to hand over her babies, either to the authorities or to families directly, as another abandonment. In fact, she used the very word ‘abandoned’ when she referred to Miss Shirley’s placement of her babies.”
I could see people nod as they, too, recalled how Tanya had acted earlier on. “I believe Tanya had no idea about her grandmother’s identity until her father died. When her father’s suicide pushed her to a depth of despair she didn’t know how to handle, she heaped all her grief and anger, accumulated over years of feeling abandoned, alone, different, and, finally, betrayed by her father, onto Miss Shirley. The woman she’d just discovered to be a blood relative. If Miss Shirley had not given up her father as a baby, he’d have had a very different life, and I believe that, in her grief, Tanya blamed Miss Shirley for the way his whole life turned out. Maybe even for him taking his own life. Tanya must have loved her father very much. She was still checking in on him regularly, despite juggling her own life with you, Tom, and a demanding career. That’s why it was she who discovered his body. Her anger toward Miss Shirley brewed up over the past few weeks. And let’s not forget that this young woman, who didn’t have a sure sense of herself in company, was publicly embarrassed when Ian sliced the cork from a champagne bottle and drenched her on a very important evening, her anniversary dinner with Tom. Becoming the center of attention in such a negative way probably had a great impact on her. She put the two sets of hatred together, planning Miss Shirley’s death and your downfall, Ian.”
Ian seemed to sag as I addressed him. “It must have been Tanya who originally suggested the saber be used to open the bottles of Dom Pérignon tonight. You’ve only performed the trick once before here in Vegas, you said, Ian, and Miss Shirley wasn’t around that night. Tanya was in this room, alone with Miss Shirley, the day before her birthday party, and she could have told Miss Shirley about the trick then, which was why it was Miss Shirley who asked you to ‘perform’ for us tonight.”
“I don’t believe any of it,” said Tom simply.
I knew that Tom wouldn’t budge in his belief that his girlfriend was innocent unless I could give him more to think about. “I think Tanya knew ab
out the gun, the urn, and Miss Shirley’s practical joke on the security company, and I believe she told Miss Shirley about Ian’s trick with the champagne bottles so he’d, helpfully, cover her planned murder weapon with his fingerprints. Tanya knew exactly when each thing would happen, and, therefore, she knew when the security system would kick in and the lights would go out. When it all happened, she picked up a napkin, then the saber, ran it into Miss Shirley’s back, continued around between the tables and the window wall, and rejoined Tom at the bar. Tom? You said Tanya tried to convince you that she was closer to Miss Shirley than she really was when the lights went out?”
Tom didn’t look up, but he nodded heavily.
I continued, “That was because she wanted to deflect focus from the fact that she was closer to the other end of the bar, making her return route to you quicker. I can’t say that the head with a flat hairdo that I saw flash in front of the windows was definitely Tanya’s, but it could have been. Also, someone who smelled of soap passed by me in the darkness.”
I looked at the people in the room, who were all rapt, but still puzzled. “Hey, look at us,” I said, trying to encourage everyone to at least participate in some active thinking. “I know we all look a pretty sorry state now, and I bet none of us smell too good either, like this room. Given the general way that people presented themselves for dinner, I’m going to suggest that everyone here wears a cologne, an aftershave, or a perfume.”
There seemed to be at least a slight acknowledgment by everyone present that this was the case.
“Maybe yours is pretty light, Ian, because of your job?” I asked.
“Yeah, they don’t like us to wear anything that’s overpowering, because it’s off-putting for the people we serve—you’re right,” replied Ian.
“I’m guessing you’re wearing something tonight you don’t usually wear, Tom, right?”
Tom’s voice was heavy. “Anniversary present from Tanya. She gave it to me the night Ian sprayed her with champagne.”
“But I’m guessing you didn’t give her perfume as a gift, right?”
Tom shook his head. “Didn’t like perfume. She said it was stupid. She didn’t care much for finery, or show.”
“I know,” I replied as tenderly as I could manage, recalling the girl who’d looked thrown together, rather than put together. “Everyone in this room presented themselves for tonight’s special dinner in a manner of dress that suggests to me we all wore some sort of fragrance, except Ian—who smelled of spilled champagne—and Tanya. Did she always use the same soap, Tom? Just a plain, light, fresh fragrance?”
Tom sighed. “I don’t know. I guess.”
I didn’t believe I was going to win Tom over to my theory anytime soon, so I just pushed ahead. “Tanya had motive, opportunity, physical capability, and access to the weapon. She had time to pick up the saber, kill Miss Shirley, and return to her spot at the bar before the lights came up, but she didn’t have a chance to retrieve the gun. Her plan was to wait until the lights came up and there was a general hubbub of activity around Miss Shirley’s body to retrieve the gun—and that’s what she did.”
I knew I had to allow my audience a moment to digest that idea. I did, pausing before I said, “When the lights first came on I saw Miss Shirley’s purse on the floor beside her chair. Having shot at the urn she’d replaced the gun in her purse, which fell to the floor when she was killed. During the general confusion that followed the discovery of the body, Tanya took her chance to grab the gun out of Miss Shirley’s purse, but the pink silk handkerchief in which Miss Shirley had wrapped the gun to protect the lining of her purse fell to the floor in the process. It has gun oil stains on it. The lining of the purse does not, it just smells of the oil. I didn’t see the handkerchief at all until I peeped under the tablecloth-shroud.”
“Even if that’s all true,” said Carl, “why would Tanya kill Jack? And how did she do it?”
I felt completely exhausted, but I knew I had to press on. “I honestly believe her original plan was just to kill Miss Shirley and let Ian take the fall. It hadn’t occurred to her that she would have been the inheritor of more than half this business empire. But a few things happened tonight that showed Tanya that was the case. Julie told us that Miss Shirley had referred to a letter she’d written pertaining to her will. Next, there was the information that Miss Shirley had gone to Los Angeles with twin baby boys and returned without them. Finally, there was the acknowledgment that Jack Bullock, originally from LA, was a man of the right age to be Miss Shirley’s son, who she encouraged to be close to her, giving him an opportunity to have a successful career as a lawyer. Tanya was a very bright girl. And she wasn’t the only one in the room at that time thinking that Jack Bullock might be Miss Shirley’s son, right?”
Both Art and Carl blushed like naughty schoolboys. I’d seen their sideways glances at Jack at the time. “Tanya had already killed for revenge—why not inherit the prize as well, even if she hadn’t planned it that way to start with? I don’t believe that Tanya was a bad person, through and through, Tom. But you said yourself she found it difficult to mix with others, and that she yearned for what she thought of as a ‘normal’ life; something she’d never had. A part of that psychopathy is for the person experiencing it to have their own rules, to decide that the society shunning them has no ability to decide right from wrong for them. She saw killing Miss Shirley as her way to avenge her father’s sad life and tragic death. No more, no less. Having taken that step, she decided to kill Jack in order to achieve a newfound dream of great wealth and power. Clemence didn’t make it any secret that he was a diabetic, and Tanya used her wits and knowledge to devise a plan. She was close to Clemence’s seat and could have easily lifted his little bag from his jacket on the back of his chair and injected Jack with the drug during the melee. She was acting on impulse, on adrenaline. She bore no animosity toward Clemence, she just wanted his drugs. Her big purse was certainly large enough to accommodate both the gun and Clemence’s medication bag.”
“But she’s dead,” said Tom flatly.
“And she couldn’t have killed herself the way she died,” added Ian.
Finale
“WHO KILL TANYA?” ASKED SVETLANA quietly, still looking frightened.
I felt my shoulders droop. “In a way, both Bud and I have to take some responsibility for that, and I hope you’ll forgive us for it, Tom.”
Tom’s head shot up. “What do you mean?”
Bud looked aghast.
“I don’t believe Julie was really asleep when you and I were talking, Bud. She could easily have overheard us, and then she saw how Tom reacted when I mentioned my suspicions about Tanya to him. We all saw how distraught Julie became after her husband’s death. She and Jack had a very deep, powerful relationship. Think about what she told us about herself—she gave up a moneyed family, a gilded future, and a life of luxury to follow Jack Bullock to Vegas, to be with him. ‘Her prince,’ she called him. That takes courage. I know they worked in very different worlds, but I believe they both derived enormous strength from their relationship.”
As I looked at the faces in the room, my gaze dwelled on Bud’s. I wondered what I’d do if I suspected someone of doing him harm.
I pressed on. “Julie picked up the corkscrew and followed Tanya into the ladies’ room fully intending to at least threaten her, or maybe do her some sort of harm. Julie struck me as someone who respected the law, though her attitude toward me when we first met suggested she had a capacity for spite, maybe even cruelty. Maybe she intended to kill Tanya, but I think it’s more likely that Julie would have enjoyed seeing her husband’s murderer accused in public, brought to justice by society. Maybe things got out of hand. Having overheard our conversation, Bud, I think Julie drew her own conclusions, and she believed, quite rightly, that Tanya had killed her husband. Julie was a lithe woman who worked out regularly—I could tell that when I noticed her toned and well-developed legs. Maybe there was a struggle. Whatever happened fuele
d her rage. Julie would have easily had the strength to kill Tanya. Although we probably all thought of it as a reaction to finding Tanya’s corpse, what we really saw was how Julie’s body reacted to having killed—her vomiting and subsequent uncontrollable shaking were equally violent. So I believe Julie Pool killed Tanya.”
“So who killed Julie?” asked Jimmy. “And why?”
“When I found Tanya’s body, her purse was on the floor beside her. Clemence mentioned he had insulin pens, eyedrops, and pills in his little red leather bag. When Bud found that red leather bag in the men’s room, where it definitely had not been during our earlier search, and the floating empty bottle of eyedrops, I knew what had happened. It might well be that Julie had seen her suspicions confirmed when Tanya’s purse fell from her shoulder in the ladies’ room and Clemence’s stolen bag fell out. Tanya’s purse had scattered some of its contents onto the floor when I found it. After she killed Tanya, Julie took the little bag, hid it in her own evening purse, and then went to the men’s room where she drank the eyedrops, intending her own death. Remember how she spoke to you before she went there, Art?”
Art shook his head. “No, I don’t recall—oh yes, she said I’d been fun to work with. Is that what you mean?”
I nodded. “Those comments, and her remark that she was ‘as good as dead’ herself were very final, don’t you think? Her acceptance that there’d be a future where you and Carl could bicker away? She seemed very calm at that moment. And then, of course, there was the lipstick.”
“Yes, I don’t know what you mean about that,” said Bud.
I allowed myself a half-smile. “There was a point earlier on when I looked at myself in the mirror and saw what a mess I’d become, but, because of the circumstances, it felt wrong to find my purse and reapply lipstick. It just seemed too frivolous. When we found Julie in the washroom, she’d already applied fresh lipstick—not something, under normal circumstances, a woman who’s just lost her husband would do. Not unless she was thinking about her final, defiant act—stepping away from this life to be with her dead husband. She killed herself. It’s that simple, and that dreadful.”