Murder in the Museum_Edmund DeCleryk Mysteries

by Karen Shughart

“I promised Annie I’d continue to investigate to see if anyone else might have been involved in Emily’s murder, but after reading the manuscript, it’s also very possible Charles is telling the truth,” Ed remarked.

  “Remember that at first, when the geologist and surveyor told him that the treasure couldn’t possibly be buried somewhere inside the museum, he supported their decision even though he was disappointed. But then, after he discovered his relationship to both families probably reconsidered and decided to revisit the issue, perhaps thinking that maybe an archaeological excavation would be appropriate after all.”

  He continued, “If we believe his confession, then we can surmise he must have been getting ready go downstairs to look at the site where he thought the treasure might be when he heard Emily come into the building and, as he told us, thinking it was an intruder, fled to the basement. He’d have probably eventually told her what he was doing, but while he was hiding and she came down to see what the noise was and tripped and fell, his anxiety level must have been off the charts. I believe him when he says her death was an accident. If he had known she was still alive, he never would have thrown her over the bluff, and he might even be regarded as a hero for saving her. How tragic that he didn’t call 911 after she fell.”

  “It’s a horrible story, Ed, and it could all have been averted if Charles had only spoken with the board of directors about his hunch and requested they explore the possibility of doing some sort of dig. Annie would know better than I, but I bet there’s grant money out there for something like that. Or volunteers with archaeological expertise.”

  “Angelica told me the team had decided not to contact anyone in England unless there was a reason to believe the treasure really was buried within the museum, and after their trip here they were convinced it wasn’t. But the jewels must be worth a fortune, plus think about their historical value. If there’s a remote possibility they’re there, some foundation in England might be willing to help fund an excavation. I’ll tell Annie what’s happened and see if she wants to take this to her board. It would be tragic if the treasure was never found because of a group of stubborn archaeologists.”

  “There’s still something that puzzles me, Ed. We still don’t know why the facsimile map was found between the two boxes in the basement. That just doesn’t jive with Charles’ story.”

  “And that’s something we may never know, Carrie.”

  Chapter 45

  By the time Ed returned home, Annie had finished reading the manuscript. “I couldn’t put it down,” she said. “And to think your family figured into the story and that Rebecca Merrill could be one of Charles’ ancestors really boggles my mind.”

  Ed reprised his conversation with Angelica Hawthorn and how Charles’ search on Ancestry.com proved he was related to both the Merrills and the Battleforths.

  “Then I really don’t get what’s going on with him, Ed. After he discovered who his ancestors were why didn’t he talk with me? I certainly would have supported an excavation, and I expect our board would have, too.”

  “Angelica Hawthorn said Charles is an enigma. Maybe that’s the best answer we’re going to get. Carrie and I spoke a little while ago, and we were both wondering if perhaps conducting an excavation on the site might still be possible if you could get some archaeologists to volunteer their time or grant money could be secured to do it.”

  “The University of Toronto, Cornell, or a foundation in England or here in upstate New York might be interested in helping us,” Annie replied. “Of course, the risk, and probability, is that we’d come up empty-handed and our efforts would be wasted. But it’s still worth pursuing. I need to run this by the board, and if they agree, I’ll do some checking. It could take time, though, so I wouldn’t expect any quick answers.” Annie walked over to her computer and starting a file, began to make some notes.

  “I want to write down as much as I can, so I don’t forget anything. One way to start would be for me to contact Donna. She might be interested in helping us or at the very least be able to steer us in the right direction.”

  *****

  Annie began her query, and she and Ed resumed a semblance of a normal life. Luke finally joined them for dinner one night. Annie made chicken with fennel, mashed potatoes and a tossed salad, and served it with homemade whole grain Irish soda bread and for dessert, a flourless chocolate torte.

  Both Ed and Annie had hoped the comforting aspects of the meal and a more relaxed setting would encourage Luke to be more forthcoming about his life. He became animated when talking about the diving expedition he planned to participate in over the summer, but he changed the subject when Ed asked him about his experience with the SEALs. When questioned about his parents and siblings and about his social life, he responded, but only superficially. He said he planned to stay in Lighthouse Cove for another year or two but hoped he’d be able to find a position after that in a large metropolitan area. He also admitted that Emily’s death had really shaken him, that he had never expected a crime so horrific to occur in this peaceful village. He helped them clean up, and after he left, Ed agreed with Annie that while he seemed a very nice young man, he appeared to be uncomfortable making small talk and was more introverted than either of them had expected.

  Donna returned Annie’s call and verified the story, as Angelica Hawthorn had told Ed, that the royals had been transporting jewels which hadn’t been recovered. If, in fact, there was evidence they were buried under the museum she thought she might be able get some funding from sources in England to conduct the excavation if nothing surfaced in the States. The royal family and the citizens of the British Isles would be grateful for their return.

  Chapter 46

  Ed visited Charles in jail after learning that his trial was set for June. He appeared even paler and his tremors had increased since the last time the two had been together.

  “Charles, I went to Toronto and spoke with Jennifer Ashwani, the current dean of your department at the university, and to Angelica Hawthorn and Pamela Huntsman. Jennifer gave me a copy of Thomas Battleforth’s manuscript, and I learned about your ancestry. I now understand why, upon reflection, you might have changed your mind and decided to explore the possibility that the treasure might be buried in the museum’s basement.”

  Charles looked down at the floor, averting his eyes from Ed.

  “Finding the treasure would have righted a wrong done by one of your ancestors more than two centuries ago. But I don’t understand why you didn’t feel comfortable talking with Annie or the board about doing an exploratory excavation rather than taking the matter into your own hands.”

  Charles sighed and buried his head in his hands. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ed. I didn’t want to tell anyone because I wasn’t sure anyone would believe me. They may have thought it was just the ramblings of an old man trying to get some attention. I know you’re trying to help, but I told you I’m guilty. I never wished Emily dead and am sick about that. It never should have happened, but my actions caused it. End of story.”

  “Well, this might make you happy,” said Ed. “Annie called Donna Jones in England, and after she verified that the treasure was never found, Annie spoke with the museum board and your colleagues in Toronto. If there’s any possibility the treasure is buried under the museum, they want to find it so are going to try and obtain funding and get some archaeologists to volunteer their time to do an excavation on the site. I’ll keep you posted. Please know how sorry I am things worked out the way they did. If you had called 911 the outcome of this would have been very different.”

  Later that day, Ed called Annie and told her about his conversation with Charles and the decline in his health. He wondered if Charles would live long enough to stand trial, let alone be alive to hear about the results of their query to obtain an excavation.

  Chapter 47

  Torrents of melting snow overflowed the curbs and gullies and rushed towards the lake during a sudden, unexpected thaw in February. A sunny,
dry forecast for Valentine’s Day encouraged Ed and Annie to call a group of friends and make reservations for dinner at the Bristol Harbor Grille.

  The restaurant, perched on tree-trunk thick pilings, gleamed inside with bleached hardwood floors, a polished dark wooden bar at one end of the long, narrow room and square tables covered with crisp, white linen tablecloths at the other. For ambience and light, small glass harbor oil lamps served as centerpieces on each table, and the room was illuminated with these along with several nautical-themed wall sconces. Oversized windows surrounded three sides of the room, overlooking the marina, the harbor and beyond it, the lake.

  As the group entered the restaurant, Annie spied Suzanne Gordon sitting at a four-top with her boyfriend, Garrett; a petite redheaded woman with hazel eyes; and an ivory-skinned woman with deep blue eyes and short, spiky black hair. Annie excused herself from their friends, followed by Ed, and went to greet Suzanne, who stood up and embraced her. As soon as the two women broke apart, Ed opened his arms and Suzanne walked into them.

  “I’m so glad to see you, Suzanne.” Ed, nodding to the others, smiled.

  “You remember my friend, Garrett,” Suzanne said as Garrett stood and shook hands with Ed and hugged Annie. She then introduced Garrett’s law partner, Sheila Caldwell; and her spouse, Amy McBride, who was the pastry and dessert chef at Suzanne’s father’s restaurant.

  “It’s so nice to meet all of you,” exclaimed Annie.

  After a few more minutes of small talk, Ed remarked, “We don’t want to take up any more of your time, so we’ll let you get back to your dinner. Suzanne, now that we have our killer, I hope you’ll be able to find some closure and put Emily’s death in a less prominent place in your life.”

  “Thanks, Ed. I’m doing much better, but I’m very upset about Charles. I still can’t believe he killed Emily. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “We all feel that way, but unfortunately his confession and the evidence seem to point to his guilt,” countered Ed. “We’re glad you’re representing him, Garrett. At least we know he’ll get a fair trial.”

  Garrett said, “I’m going to do my very best to make sure that Charles doesn’t languish in jail for the rest of his life.”

  Annie smiled. “I certainly hope so. Now we do need to get back to our friends. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  Chapter 48

  The balmy, spring-like weather continued to hold and after several days of sunshine, the grass, once spongy from the quick melt, dried and villagers rushed outdoors to take advantage of the mild sunny days. Because of the early snow and his involvement in Emily’s murder investigation, Ed had not used his metal detector since November.

  Instead of going to the beach, which was still soppy from the melted snow and ice, he awoke one bright morning and after quickly downing a cup of coffee threw on his hiking clothes and boots and with the detector in hand, headed to the village park where the museum stood.

  Whatever he found he’d take to the police station, just in case someone had reported something missing. He’d donate anything left over that was in halfway decent condition to the annual firemen’s spring flea market.

  Just as he figured, his search yielded some coins, mostly pennies, some costume jewelry and a few other worthless trinkets, probably all lost during the past summer or fall when tourists and residents crowded the park for cookouts, concerts, festivals or to watch the sailboats gliding by on the lake.

  He put some of the more valuable items in his pocket and tossed the rest in a small plastic trash bag he’d brought with him. As he headed out of the park towards his car, he noticed what looked at first like a credit card sticking up out of a pile of wet leaves and walked over to pick it up.

  Upon further inspection, he recognized it as a drivers’ license, displaying the photo of a young man. But he couldn’t read the name on it because he’d left his reading glasses in his car when he’d donned his sunglasses.

  Whoever this license belongs to probably has already reported it missing and filed for a duplicate, he thought to himself and started to throw it, along with his bag of trash, in a bin that was anchored next to a charcoal grill on the lawn. But then he changed his mind and decided to take it with him to the police station to see if anyone had called in and reported it missing.

  At the station, after dumping everything he picked up in the park on the counter, he asked Rachel, the plump, bespectacled receptionist, to check and see if any of the objects had been reported lost over the past several months.

  “Let me get the list,” she said as she got up from her chair, pulling her cotton turtleneck sweater firmly down over her knit slacks. Now in her 50s, the cheerful brown-haired woman had worked at the station since graduating from high school. Since then, she’d married, borne two children and was now the proud grandmother of a baby boy.

  While he was waiting for her to return, Ed looked more closely at the items on the counter and noticed a coin. It was the one he’d found on the beach the day of Emily’s murder and had put in his pocket and forgotten. Picking it up off the counter and turning it over, he examined it closely. His eyes lit up. It was British, dated 1781, minted less than a decade before Thomas Battleforth landed on the beach at Lighthouse Cove. Excited at the discovery, he couldn’t wait to show it to Annie. It very well may have been one of Battleforth’s, buried deep beneath the sand for generations.

  Rachel returned with the list that she placed on the counter for the two of them to peruse. Nothing that had been reported missing was among the items Ed had unearthed, so he gathered up those he’d donate to the firehouse and threw the rest in a waste basket. He was walking out the door when he remembered the license.

  “I’m having a senior moment,” he said to Rachel, laughing. “I picked up a driver’s license in the park. It’s probably already been replaced, but let me get it out so you can check to see if anyone called in about it, just to make sure.”

  “What’s the name on it?”

  “I didn’t have my glasses on so couldn’t read the name,” he answered, pulling his reading glasses out of his pocket. “Let’s see who this belongs to.”

  Ed looked at the license, and astonishment registered on his face. “Well, well, what have we got here?” The name on the license was Michael Warren, address Ontario, NY.

  “This can’t be a coincidence. This must be the same Michael Warren I wanted to speak with who never responded to my email. I thought he might still be in South Korea, but apparently he’s been living right under our noses,” he said as Rachel looked quizzically at him. He quickly explained to her that the young man had been someone he’d wanted to talk with regarding Emily’s murder.

  “Is Chief Fisher back yet?” he asked Rachel.

  “No. His mother’s still hanging on, and he doesn’t want to leave her. His father is not in terribly good shape either, so he needs to be there to look after him as well. Poor family. First Ellen’s dad and now his mother. He’s taken a leave of absence but thinks he’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s too bad. He’s going through a tough spell, and I feel for him,” remarked Ed.

  “What about Carrie? Is she in?”

  “She is. I’ll buzz her and let her know you want to see her.”

  A minute later, sitting in Carrie’s office, Ed showed her the coin.

  “Wow, what a find!” she exclaimed. “This really could be another link to Thomas Battleforth and the possibility that the treasure is buried here. Annie’s going to be beside herself when you give this to her.”

  “It is pretty exciting,” Ed answered. “But I have something else to show you.”

  He took out the license and put it on Carrie’s desk. “I’m wondering if this is the same Michael Warren I tried to contact who was part of the exploratory trip here with the folks from the University of Toronto.”

  “Luke’s working with some techs on another horrible murder right now, but if you like, I can ask Brad to see what he can find out about the person on
the license.”

  “Another murder? What’s happened? Could it have anything to do with Emily’s murder?”

  “Not even remotely. I guess you haven’t heard. A mother and daughter were found dead in their home early this morning. At first, it looked like a murder-suicide but there’s some evidence that it may have been a double murder. There’s apparently an estranged son/brother who has substance abuse problems who may be involved. The father died some years ago, and there’s another daughter who lives out of state.”

  “How horrible for the surviving daughter. Maybe this will be easier to solve than the one we’re working on.”

  “It’s probably a bit more cut-and-dried. There’s a BOLO out for the son.”

  “Well, since Luke is busy, I’d appreciate your asking Brad to see what he can dig up about this Michael Warren. Since we have an address, it may not be too lengthy a process or too difficult to verify whether he’s the same person we’re looking for. All we really need is to find out where he’s working and his two or three previous addresses.”

  “I’ll tell Brad to get on it right away, but there have to be hundreds of men living in the states with his name. What if this isn’t the same Michael Warren?”

  “I’m not going to worry about it. It’s not worth spending too much time trying to track him down, but if he is living nearby it would be irresponsible of me to not follow up with him.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything,” Carrie promised.

  Some hours later, as Ed was pulling up to his garage, his cell phone rang. It was Carrie.

  “I got the information you wanted about Michael Warren. I’m pretty sure he’s the one you’re looking for. He teaches English at the Wayne Central Middle School and got back last year after spending a couple years teaching English as a second language in South Korea. His two previous addresses were in Toronto, where he attended the university, and in Ithaca, where he lived as a child. But something else popped up that might interest you. He applied for the duplicate license in November.” Carrie paused. “A day after Emily’s murder.”