Murder at St. Winifred's Academy

by J. D. Griffo

  Since Alberta started her foray into the investigative arts, she’d prided herself in trusting her instincts. For decades, she’d ignored the ping in the pit of her stomach that tried to alert her to a dangerous situation or a person who was better avoided than accepted. She assumed the men around her knew better than she did, and if they weren’t voicing concerns or noticing red flags, why should she? Everything changed, however, when she moved to Tranquility and started working with her female relatives. For the past few years, instead of refusing to listen to her intuition, she turned up the volume, so not only could she benefit from her sixth sense, but those around her could as well. She had finally found her girl power.

  But as she held the box that she found in Adrienne’s hotel room, a very large part of her wished she hadn’t listened to her inner voice. If only she had turned a blind eye to its nagging, as Sammy had often turned away from her. Had she done that, she could have kept thinking Kip was a good guy: quirky, possessing a very active imagination, but ultimately harmless. The contents of the box proved otherwise.

  Jinx, Joyce, Helen, and Sloan sat around Alberta’s kitchen table, glasses filled with Red Herrings in front of them, a half-eaten Entenmann’s blueberry crumb cake awaiting further destruction, and although they had all sat around this table many times before, they knew this time was different. Alberta wasn’t eager to share the information she’d uncovered and they, sensing her apprehension, were not eager to hear it. But when they formed the unofficial Ferrara Family Detective Agency, they promised that once they took on a case, they would see it through to the end. They would do whatever they could to expose criminals even if one of those criminals had quickly become a friend.

  Alberta made the sign of the cross and kissed the gold crucifix she never removed from her neck. The others knew it was an indication that Alberta was asking for guidance, and possibly forgiveness, for what she was about to do next. Which was to reveal Kip’s hidden past.

  “What’s in this box fills in the blanks about Kip’s criminal record,” Alberta announced. “And it is worse than we could ever have thought.”

  “But Gram,” Jinx said. “That’s the same box we found at Adrienne’s and it contained nothing but junk.”

  “It’s either a different box with the same design,” Alberta said. “Or she replaced her old junk with old evidence.”

  “What kind of evidence, Berta?” Sloan asked.

  “The kind that tells me I misjudged the boy all along,” Alberta replied. “And proves that Johnny may be right: Kip could be our murderer.”

  “Whatever’s in that box is obviously disturbing,” Helen said. “But it’s late, we’re tired, and we need to know what we’re dealing with, so tell us.”

  “Whatever it is, Berta, we’ll all handle it together,” Joyce added.

  Alberta lifted the top from the box and took another look at the papers inside. She pulled them out and placed them on the table. “These are Kip’s unsealed court documents.”

  “Oh my God!” Jinx exclaimed. “How did Adrienne get her hands on those?”

  “Vinny told me they’re impossible to get without a court order,” Jinx said. “He’s still waiting on a response to the motion he filed to get them unsealed.”

  “She must have stolen them from the court or bribed someone on the inside to make copies for her,” Sloan said.

  “I don’t know how she got them, but they’re here,” Alberta said. “Read them yourselves.”

  Alberta passed around the papers, and one by one, they gasped when they read the indictment and the charges that were brought against Kip. They were devastated, and the findings made them rethink their entire investigation.

  “Two years ago, Kip’s boyfriend, Wesley Henderson, vanished and Kip was arrested for his murder,” Alberta exclaimed. “Eyewitnesses testified that in the weeks leading up to Wesley’s disappearance, the couple had been fighting, there was at least one physical altercation, and they found traces of Wesley’s blood in the driveway of the house they shared in Deer Isle.”

  “Wes!” Jinx cried. “That’s the name that was mentioned in that theatre chat room I found. No one said who he was, but they must all have known.”

  “According to the documents, the weekend Wesley disappeared, Kip was attending a legal conference in Bangor,” Alberta continued. “But the hotel security camera captured him leaving the hotel at one a.m. and not returning until four. He was never able to adequately account for what happened during those three hours, but a round-trip car ride from Bangor to Deer Isle and back takes a little over three hours.”

  “His absence is suspect, but three hours wouldn’t be long enough for Kip to drive home, kill his boyfriend, dispose of the body, and return to his hotel,” Joyce said.

  “That’s exactly what his lawyers argued,” Alberta replied. “His absence during that time was questionable but hardly airtight evidence to prove he killed Wesley.”

  “But was Wesley really killed?” Jinx asked. “His body was never found.”

  “There needs to be significant circumstantial and forensic evidence to support corpus delicti,” Sloan said. “Or a charge of murder without the presence of a dead body.”

  “The court believed Wesley was murdered and that Kip did the deed,” Alberta said, “but the jury believed otherwise, and Kip was acquitted.”

  “But why were his documents sealed?” Helen asked.

  “From what Vinny told me, the safety of the person being charged, in this case Kip, has to be seen as more important than the public’s right to know the details of the case,” Jinx explained.

  “Maybe with the body never being found and the fact that the real murderer could still be at large, they worried about Kip’s safety,” Sloan suggested.

  “Anything is possible,” Alberta said. “All we know is that Kip has now been involved in two murders, possibly three if you count Brandon, and I know that it all may be a coincidence or really bad luck, but it makes me question everything I’ve thought about that young man.”

  “I can’t believe all of this is unfolding on the night before we open,” Helen said. “I was really starting to find my groove as Martha Brewster, I hope this doesn’t derail me.”

  “Helen, you’re going to steal the show tomorrow night and you know it,” Alberta said. “But the rest of us should get a good night’s rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  “I hate to be accused of mansplaining,” Sloan said, “but don’t you think this information you found about Kip should be turned over to the police?”

  “You know, Sloan,” Alberta said, “for a man, you can sometimes be right.”

  Despite the late hour, Alberta knew that Vinny would want to be briefed on Kip’s backstory. When she called him, however, he didn’t want to listen to her, he wanted her to open her back door.

  “Vinny!” Alberta exclaimed, opening up her kitchen door. “What the hell are you doing here at this hour?”

  “You’re the only one I know in this town who still has a VCR, Alfie,” Vinny replied. “Where else would I go to watch a videotape?”

  * * *

  They all sat on Alberta’s couch as Vinny put the video into the VCR; even Lola woke up to join the impromptu screening. He faced everyone and said, “Onorevoli colleghi, vi prego di dare il benvenuto alla signora dell’ora.”

  “I caught the ladies-and-gentlemen part,” Jinx said, “but lost everything else.”

  “Please welcome the lady of the hour,” Alberta said.

  “What lady?” Joyce asked.

  Vinny pressed Play and they were shocked to see Missy’s face once again on a TV screen. She was the lady of the hour, but this time it wasn’t vintage Missy Michaels, it was what she looked like during the days leading up to when she was killed.

  She wasn’t in a fancy New York penthouse like her alter ego, she wasn’t even in a television studio as a guest on a talk show as she was the last time they watched her, she was sitting in a high-backed chair, an ivory wall behind her that wa
s bare except for half of a painting that was cut off by the camera. They saw enough of the painting to know that it featured a gray vase filled with white daisies against a lush, black backdrop.

  At the start of the tape there was silence. Missy stared into the camera—collecting her thoughts, creating ambience, searching for her lines—who could tell, but the result was magnetic, no one could take their eyes away from the screen and everyone held their breath until Missy spoke. It was worth the wait. Her voice was clear and strong, her eyes glistened, her smile proudly showed off her wrinkles; it wasn’t clear if she was talking or performing, but it didn’t matter, the result was mesmerizing.

  “Hello, my name is Missy Michaels and if you don’t know who I am, don’t be upset, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been relevant, as they say these days. But all that is about to change.” Missy paused and leaned closer to the camera. “I’m going to the sweetest little town, maybe you’ve heard of it—Tranquility, New Jersey—and I’m going to star in a new production of Arsenic and Old Lace with the Tranquility Players. We’re putting on this show at the beautiful theatre at St. Winifred’s Academy and I couldn’t be happier. I’ll be playing Abby Brewster, one of the spinster aunts who, along with her sister, does some naughty things, but it’s all in the name of fun. So come see me in the show, I would love to see you.”

  Missy stopped, and for a moment, it looked as if she had lost her train of thought, but then they realized she was trying to compose herself. What had started as a piece of promotional fluff, a video she’d put together to announce to the world that Missy Michaels was making a comeback, suddenly became something more important. Missy was using the video to share her thoughts with the world. But what was she thinking?

  “It would be nice to have a place in your hearts one final time.”

  She paused again, and it looked as if she would continue speaking, and they hoped she would, they wanted to hear more from her, they wanted to spend hours listening to her, but that was it. The screen faded to black and Missy’s face was gone. The impact of her words remained.

  “She wasn’t talking about having one last moment in the spotlight,” Alberta said. “She was talking about acting in public once more before she died.”

  “There was most assuredly a finality to what she said,” Joyce agreed.

  “Like she somehow knew she was going to die,” Helen added.

  “Do you think she had some kind of premonition that she’d be murdered?” Jinx asked.

  “I hope not, lovey,” Alberta said. “But she knew something, it was right there in her eyes.”

  “How’d you get this tape, Vin?” Sloan asked.

  “It came in the mail addressed to me, personal and confidential,” Vinny explained. “We haven’t been able to trace it, but Forensics is checking for fingerprints and DNA, though I doubt we’ll find anything.”

  “It might not hold any clues,” Alberta said, “but it is a lovely gift.”

  “Thanks for letting me use your machine, Alfie,” Vinny said, “and I’m sorry I kept you all up. Tomorrow’s the big night.”

  Vinny walked over to the TV and was about to eject the tape from the VCR when Alberta stopped him.

  “May I keep the video until tomorrow?” Alberta asked. “I’d like to watch it again for inspiration.”

  “In return Gram can give you this,” Jinx said.

  Vinny took the daisy-covered box. “What’s this?”

  “Kip’s unsealed court documents we gound in Adrienne’s room,” Alberta said.

  Kip smiled. “Now this is teamwork. Thank you.”

  “I’ll drop it off at the station on my way to the theatre,” Alberta said.

  “Speaking of being dropped off,” Helen started, “Joyce, can you drive me home?”

  “Of course,” Joyce replied. “Sloan, I can take you too.”

  “Thanks,” Sloan said. He turned to Alberta. “Are you nervous?”

  “About the show?” Alberta said. “A little, but if I get scared, I’ll look at you in the audience, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll just let Helen say all my lines. She knows the entire show by heart.”

  Alberta noticed that Jinx was playing with Lola instead of putting on her coat and following everyone out the door. She wondered if her granddaughter had come to the same conclusion she had.

  When they were alone, Jinx revealed that she had. “I think I know who the killer is, Gram.”

  “Me too, lovey.”

  “The only problem is, how do we prove it?”

  “I have an idea,” Alberta said. “Nola may hate me for it, but if all goes like I hope it will, we’ll expose the killer when we take our final bows and there’s nowhere to hide.”

  “What do we have to do?” Jinx asked.

  Just as Alberta was about to explain her plan, they heard another voice in the house. They looked around but didn’t see anyone.

  “Who’s there?” Alberta called out.

  “Gram, it’s coming from the TV,” Jinx said. “It’s Missy.”

  They walked into the living room and saw Missy’s face on the screen.

  “Vinny didn’t stop it before he left, the videotape must have been running this entire time,” Alberta said.

  “But it’s a different scene,” Jinx said. “At least her outfit’s different, and so is the location.”

  They stood and listened to what Missy had to say, and it was as if she really was speaking to them from beyond the grave. She was giving them exactly what they needed so they could put her killer behind bars.

  * * *

  Alberta’s plan was simple, but it had two crucial parts that she and Jinx needed to execute immediately. The next morning, Jinx went to see Pedro Suarez, the medical examiner, at St. Clare’s, and asked him to run a test on Missy’s blood.

  “For arsenic?” Pedro asked.

  “No.”

  “Some other kind of poison?” Pedro asked.

  “No.”

  Jinx handed Pedro a piece of paper and saw his eyes widen. “I can do this right now.”

  On the other side of town, Alberta met with Donna at her office. The principal wasn’t thrilled to be summoned to her own office on a Saturday morning, but Alberta had said it was an emergency. She also warned her not to tell Vinny about their meeting. When Alberta arrived at St. Winifred’s, Donna was already sitting behind her desk, wearing a tracksuit instead of a power suit, but still the epitome of authority.

  “What’s this all about, Alberta?” she demanded. “And why do you want to keep it a secret from Vinny?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone about you and Vinny,” Alberta said.

  “You know about us?” Donna asked.

  “I’ve known Vinny since we were kids,” Alberta said. “I know when he’s in love.”

  Donna snickered. “You think we’re in love?”

  “Don’t try to deny it,” Alberta replied. “I know you want to keep it under wraps until Missy’s murder is solved, and that’s what I’ve come to talk to you about. I need your help.”

  “In solving a murder?” Donna asked. “I’m a principal, not a detective.”

  “Neither am I ... officially ... but I’ve got a pretty good record,” Alberta replied.

  Donna gave Alberta a long, hard look. Whatever she saw, she liked. “How can I help you?”

  “Nola told me that the Academy has their own little film studio here, where kids can learn how to make movies,” Alberta said. “Is that true?”

  “Yes, we’re very proud of it,” Donna replied. “We received a grant from the state’s film department and got the whole thing set up last year; it’s been an instant hit with the students, as you can imagine. But I don’t see how I can help you.”

  “Can you recommend a student who has film editing skills, who you can trust to keep his mouth shut?” Alberta asked.

  “No, I can’t,” Donna said. “But I can recommend a student with excellent editing skills who I trust implicitly to keep her mouth sh
ut.”

  “A girl can do that kind of stuff?”

  “Alberta, I’m disappointed in you, a girl can do any kind of stuff.”

  “Errore mio,” Alberta said. “Do you think you can call her and ask her to come here now? I can pay her for her work.”

  Donna was already dialing the phone, and when her student answered, she put it on speaker. “Farrah, this is Principal Russo.”

  “Am I in trouble?” Farrah asked.

  “No, you’re not in trouble,” Donna replied. She shrugged her shoulders and looked at Alberta. “Why does every student think they’re in trouble when the principal calls?”

  “Why else would the principal call?” Farrah asked.

  “Because I have a woman here who has an offer that I don’t think you’re going to be able to refuse,” Donna replied.

  “I’m listening,” Farrah said.

  “Farrah, this is Alberta Scaglione, how’d you like to make a hundred dollars and help solve a murder?”

  CHAPTER 28

  La commedia difficile, è un omicidio che è facile.

  Alberta and Helen were running around Alberta’s house like teenagers getting ready for a first date. They were excited, they were scared, and they knew that when the night was over, they would never be the same. For different reasons, of course. Helen was going to make her stage debut and Alberta was going to reveal to the entire audience who killed Missy Michaels.

  Helen decided she would get ready for the show at Alberta’s so they could do one final read through of all their lines as Abby and Martha Brewster. No one was more surprised than Alberta that she had actually memorized all her lines; she assumed it was in large part because she was playing a sister to her own sister onstage, so there was a built-in comfort level. Plus, even though it was a starring role, it wasn’t a huge part and there were lots of other people in the cast, which meant the spotlight wasn’t on her the entire time.

  Alberta gathered her costume, character shoes, and makeup bag, took one last look around her living room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, kissed Lola on the top of her head, and headed into her kitchen to leave. Helen was sitting at the table already dressed in character, but not making any attempt to move.