“He was my husband and your father.”
Elizabeth held back her feelings on the subject. It would be a tough decision for Peggy to make.
“So? He never acted that way.” Shirley said, roughly.
“There is no one else to do it.”
“That’s his problem. If he expected a little consideration now, he should have been thinking about what he was doing to us a long time ago.”
“I agree with Shirley,” Al said. “I don’t think it is up to you to provide him with a funeral.”
“Maybe you could notify his sister?” Elizabeth asked.
Peggy shook her head. “They never communicated and I don’t even know where she lives or if she is still alive.”
“What’s her name?” This might be the proof she needed to show that Harry and Brian were father and son.
“I don’t remember. It was so long ago that he told me about her. And then he never spoke of her afterwards.”
“Well, I don’t think he deserves anything from you, Mom,” Shirley said. “Especially not after the way he treated you during your marriage.”
“I don’t think a decision has to be made now,” Al said. “Why don’t we wait to see what the police have to say when they are finished the autopsy?”
* * * *
“Brian Sinclair called while you were sleeping,” Martha Davidson said.
“Brian Sinclair?” Warren was stunned. “Are you sure he said Brian Sinclair?”
“Yes. I’m sure. I asked him twice to repeat it.”
“How did he get this number?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“What did he say?” Warren felt the first tendrils of fear. They had read the newspapers and had seen the name. It had startled them both but they’d reasoned that there were lots of Brian Sinclairs in the world.
“He said he was looking for his grandmother and he thinks Mom was her.”
“What did you answer?”
“I was so flustered. I told him she wasn’t. But he wanted to come and meet me so we could discuss her past. He has one of our books, got it from that nosy writer woman.”
“You didn’t agree to meet, did you?”
“No. I told him I didn’t want to see him.”
Warren held his head in his hands. “It’s all going to come out. I know it is. What are we going to do now?”
* * * *
Someone had bought a Calgary newspaper and left it lying on one of the dining room tables. Elizabeth picked it up to read. Whereas the headline the day before had declared that Harry had returned from the grave, the one today added: RETURNED FROM GRAVE ONLY TO DIE. Elizabeth read the article. After the usual rundown of the history of the case, the reporter noted that there were some similarities and coincidences between the two murders.
Septic Stan had been hit on the head by something blunt and so had Harry. Sam had been thrown in a septic tank; Harry had been thrown in a creek. Elizabeth paused. That wasn’t quite right. Harry had been lying with his head in the creek and his feet on the path. The reporter was working so hard to find a link between the two murders that he was manipulating the facts. The story continued with: Septic Stan had been found on property formerly owned by Harry Wilson.
Now that was true, but what did it have to do with the murders?
Elizabeth tore the article out of the paper and took it to her room. She put it with the other sheets of newspapers she’d been saving before turning the television on to the six o’clock news. Harry Wilson’s murder was the lead story. The anchorman told the whole story from the finding of the skeleton to Harry returning and then being found dead. “According to police, the body was moved to the creek after Harry was killed. They are now looking for the murder site.” The sketch of the man found in the tank was shown and the public was asked to contact the police if they recognized him.
“They have been questioning everyone at the bed and breakfast,” the anchorman said as a picture of Brian Sinclair appeared on the screen next.
“Mr. Sinclair, who is staying at the Prairie Bed and Breakfast owned by the daughter of the slain man, is a previous resident of Fort Macleod. He lived there for a few months years ago under the name Mike Altman and was Shirley McNealy’s boyfriend and the father of her unborn child.” Then a picture of the Etheringtons replaced Brian’s. “Mr. and Mrs. Etherington are part owners of the future hog barn. They were staying at the same B&B for part of the week. Construction of the hog barn has been put on hold indefinitely. The members of CRAP are claiming a victory but a spokeswoman for the Western Hog Corporation cites the reason as being the slumping hog prices.”
The tape turned to Reverend Raymond, the husband of the woman Harry had run away with nine years ago. While it wasn’t actually spoken, the implication was that they were all suspects in Harry Wilson’s murder.
* * * *
Elizabeth took Chevy and went into Fort Macleod to buy their supper. She felt sorry for him, he kept looking for Stormie. Not wanting to have to explain everything to her family right now she left her cell phone in her room. She knew there would be a lot of messages on it when she returned.
Chevy wanted his walk as soon as they were back so Elizabeth took him on a shortened version. Her mind kept going over the question of who killed Harry. But the real question for her was, would one or both murders be solved soon? She had to finish her research and get home, but she would like to go home with at least one explained murder to write about.
When she came back she found Brian sitting in a chair on the verandah. She sat across from him.
“I saw you on television tonight,” she said.
He smiled grimly.
“Just about everyone here seems to be a suspect in Harry’s murder,” Elizabeth said then changed the subject. “Have you read the book?”
“Most of it.”
“Did you phone Martha Davidson?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Elizabeth prompted.
“She said she didn’t want to see me.”
“Oh. That must have been disappointing. Are you going to try again?”
“I don’t know.”
* * * *
It was getting dusk when the police came with more questions. Branson asked Elizabeth to go over the night Harry had shown up again, including who had said what. She did the best she could, trying to remember exactly what had happened and what she’d said the first time.
“Who was at breakfast yesterday morning?” Branson asked.
Elizabeth thought back. That would be Monday morning. “Just Brian and Cindy Sinclair, and myself.”
“Where was Raymond Clarke?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did you first see him that morning?”
She really tried her best to remember. It seemed that there was just so much that had happened. Harry had come to the B&B Saturday evening. Sunday Raymond hadn’t been here for breakfast. Monday morning was when he came back while she was getting her jeans for the trail ride. This morning, they’d had their long talk at breakfast. “I saw him come in after breakfast Monday morning.”
“So he’d been out all night?” Branson asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see him during the night?”
“No.”
“So to the best of your knowledge, he was out all night.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Ms. Oliver.”
In her room Elizabeth listened to messages on her phone. There were three from her father, and one each from her siblings and Sally. She phoned them all in turn and again assured them she was okay. She spoke longer with Sherry finding out how she was holding up.
“The time is going so slowly,” Sherry said.
“I’m so sorry that I can’t be with you. The police have requested that I stay while they investigate, so make sure you phone me as soon as you can tomorrow,” Elizabeth said.
“I will.”
Chapter 20
Elizabeth
had two pieces of French toast for breakfast. The mood in the dining room was somber. Brian just seemed to be watching Peggy go in and out of the kitchen. Cindy pushed her food around on her plate. There was no sign of Reverend Raymond. Maybe he had found a new place to stay.
She looked at her watch. Sherry’s appointment was at eleven o’clock. With her mother it had taken the technicians two and a half hours to take the mammogram, check the X-rays, do an ultrasound, discuss the findings with her and do the biopsy. Sherry wouldn’t be phoning until around two o’clock.
She let Chevy run, then drove to Lethbridge to see Elvina again. She wanted to find out about her relationship with Martha and Warren and maybe learn a little more about them. After all, there was just as much a chance that the skeleton had been put there while they owned the land as while Peggy and Harry owned it. And maybe she could find out why Martha wouldn’t talk with Brian.
“Good morning,” Elizabeth said, when Elvina opened the door.
“It’s nice to see you again.” Elvina let her into the room. They sat in the same places they had the day before. Elvina picked up her needlework.
Elizabeth’s curiosity got the better of her. “How can you see so well to do those small stitches?”
“I’ve been lucky with my eyesight. My sister is the same. She still enjoys reading.”
“What are you going to do with that?” Elizabeth looked at the covered walls. “You don’t have room for it here.”
“I’ve made one of these for each of my children and grandchildren, and now I’m on my great-grandchildren. My oldest great-granddaughter is getting married next month and this is her wedding present.”
“I heard that you knew Martha Davidson and her mother, Harriet Barber, very well.” Elizabeth got down to work
“Oh, yes. Harriet and I were friends for many years. Why do you ask?”
Elizabeth didn’t know how to answer that. Brian searching for his father and grandmother was really none of her business. And it wasn’t up to her to tell people about it. But because she so poor at lying she told part of the truth. “I know a man who is looking for his grandmother and her maiden name is, or was, Harriet Douglas.”
Elvina gave a little start then quickly recovered. “Harriet was a very popular name back then. I knew three different women with that name.”
“Well, tell me about Harriet Barber.” It seemed to Elizabeth that Elvina had recognized Harriet Douglas’ name. How could she find out if that was true or just her imagination?
“Are you asking for the man or because of the murder?”
Sharp woman, Elizabeth smiled to herself. “I am intrigued by both,” she admitted.
“Fred and Harriet Barber, Martha’s parents, were my husband, Walter’s, and my nearest neighbours and our dearest friends for many years. Walter and Fred helped each other with the fieldwork and Harriet and I worked our gardens, canned our vegetables, picked berries for pies and made quilts together. We even told each other our deepest secrets. Walter and I really felt the loss when Fred died.”
“What about Martha?”
“I used to feel sorry for her. She was an only child. It was lonely for her by herself on the farm. She’d come over and play with my children and then ask her mother for a brother or sister of her own. I know there were a few Christmases that she even asked Santa Claus for one.”
“And Warren Davidson?”
Her top lip curled with disdain.
“I take it you didn’t like him.” It wasn’t that hard of a guess.
“You bet I disliked him, and so did Harriet.”
“How did Martha meet him?”
“When Fred died Harriet was desperate to keep the farm. Martha, who was working in Lethbridge, moved back to help but they couldn’t do the fieldwork and put up the hay. Walter also tried to help but it was too much for one man. Harriet put an ad in the paper for a hired man and Warren Davidson was the only one who answered it. He was originally from some place in Manitoba and I don’t think he’d worked a day in his life. After he married Martha, I didn’t see as much of either Harriet or Martha.
“Why was that?” Elizabeth asked, leaning forward.
Elvina counted some stitches in her needlework before answering. “Warren was a bully. He thought a woman should stay at home and not go into town or visit friends.”
“How could he stop them?” This sure wasn’t sounding like the Warren Davidson she’d met, but sometimes people mellow with age.
“Well, I dropped in once to tell Harriet about a meeting of the church women and she told me she wouldn’t be able to make it. I asked why and she started whispering, said Warren did something to the truck to make sure she and Martha couldn’t drive it. I offered to pick her up but she said no, it would cause too much trouble for them if I did. She seemed really scared of him.
“And I’m sure he beat Martha because I caught a quick glimpse of her that day and she had bruises on her face and arms. I think she was trying to avoid me because of them. Then Warren saw me there, and he wasn’t exactly polite when he asked me to leave their place.”
“Why did Martha marry him?”
“She wasn’t the prettiest girl and she never had many boyfriends, especially once she finished school. When that man first came he paid attention to her and took her to movies so naturally she fell in love. I remember she had always wanted to have a family, lots of children around…maybe to make up for being an only child herself. He was much older than she was but I think by that time she was getting desperate. “
“They’re still married,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“Only because he has probably browbeaten her into thinking she couldn’t look after herself without him.”
“The papers said that Warren and Martha owned the acreage before the Wilson’s. If it belonged to Harriet how did that happen?”
“About a year after the wedding Harriet signed the farm over to both of them. I don’t know how he convinced her, though I’m afraid he must have coerced her in some unpleasant way. I thought it was for the money, expected him to sell it, because Warren didn’t even like the farm. He flatly refused to buy one of those aerial photographs of it. But he didn’t sell right away after all. I suppose it gave him more power over them. His ownership certainly would have made it very hard to force him to leave if they had ever found the courage to try.”
Elvina’s mantel clock rang the hour and Elizabeth realized with a pang that Sherry would be at the Breast Centre by now. But there was nothing Elizabeth could do about it except wait for the call. She forced herself back to the room and her quest for Brian’s grandmother.
“Tell me about the other women named Harriet that you knew.”
“Well, there was Harriet Bolt. She and her husband moved here from Montana with their three children. Five years later her husband was killed during a cattle drive and she and her children went back south.”
Scratch that one from the list.
“And there was Harriet Findley,” Elvina continued. “She was a seamstress in town and she died of influenza. Too young to go, she was.”
“How old was she when she died?”
“I’m not sure. Probably in her thirties.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Do you remember the year?”
“I guess it was sometime in the late 1950s,” Elvina said slowly.
She was a possibility. Elizabeth would mention her to Brian.
“Did you know any of those women’s maiden names? Was any of them Douglas?”
Again, Elvina counted her stitches. She took longer this time. Elizabeth had the feeling that she did know something.
“When did you last speak to Martha?” Elvina asked.
The days had begun to run together. Elizabeth had to think about it. “Last Friday.”
Elvina spoke without looking up. “Next time you see her tell her that if she has any questions she can come to me.”
“Questions about what?”
“Just tell her.”
“Okay,
” Elizabeth promised, totally captivated. But that hadn’t answered her question. She glanced around the room and saw the newspaper with the sketch of the skeleton man. To give herself time to think she asked Elvina if she recognized him.
She looked at the picture, and then picked up the paper to look closer. “Why yes, I’m sure I know him.”
“You do?” Elizabeth was astounded. The police, the newscasters and the newspapers were demanding to know who he was and she so calmly admitted she knew him. “Who is he?”
She shook her head. “I can’t place him. But I know I’ve met him somewhere.”
“Where do you think you know him from?” Elizabeth couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. Could the murder investigation be solved by this sweet lady with the sharp mind and the excellent eyesight? “From when you farmed? Was he a friend of the Barbers or the Davidsons?” Elizabeth was literally on the edge of her seat, willing Elvina to remember.
Elvina studied the sketch. “I just can’t remember. My mind gets so fuddled sometimes.”
“Well, if you do remember, be sure to tell the police before you tell anyone else.”
A troubled look came to Elvina’s face. She obviously hadn’t realized the full implications until now. Then her face cleared, and she shrugged. “Why? Do you think I’ll be killed because of my knowledge? The headlines will read: Elvina Snuffed Before She Could Identify Dead Man.” She laughed at her joke and Elizabeth joined her. She was right. This wasn’t the movies.
Elizabeth thanked Elvina for her help and stood up to leave. She was disappointed that she hadn’t learned more for Brian. “Here’s my cell phone number. Give me a call if you think of who he is or anything else.”
“You may tell that friend of yours he can come and visit me if he wishes.”
Elizabeth’s spirits rose. She really wanted to ask why but somehow knew she would not get an answer.
“Okay,” she promised, wishing she could sit in on their meeting. Maybe Brian would tell her about it. “It was nice seeing you again.”
As she walked to her vehicle, her mind scoured the conversation. If Elvina knew Harriet Douglas she was only going to tell Brian, her grandson. She’d have to let him know as soon as she got back to the B&B. Maybe her theory would be proved right soon. If Harry was his father and Harriet Barber was his grandmother then…It was way too much to think about.
The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 23