Dressed to Die: A Lindsay Chamberlain Novel

by Beverly Connor

  "There's no proof to support your scenario. Papaw could have killed Creasey," Lindsay said.

  "I don't think he did. I think Papaw would have turned Creasey over to the authorities when he found out about the stolen artifacts. Billy's motive was much stronger. Creasey had killed Billy's brother and his brother's fiancee. And Billy had a temper. He may have confronted Creasey, and they may have gotten in a fight. We'll never know exactly how it happened. But you knew Papaw. He didn't have a temper, and I don't think he did it. There was Creasey, a possible murderer and thief, and there was Papaw, the respectable archaeologist. Papaw wouldn't have been afraid to own up to it."

  "Unless it was deliberate murder," said Lindsay. She wanted Sinjin to come up with some definitive piece of information or logic that said her grandfather hadn't done it.

  "He wouldn't have committed murder. He would have turned Creasey over to the sheriff. I'm certain of it." Sinjin reached out and took Lindsay's hand. "Papaw was proud of his work in archaeology and proud of you. He would have thought a lot about the legacy he was leaving to his son. He was worried on the day of your graduation what legacy he was leaving you. I think that's what he was thinking about in that picture."

  "I want to believe that's what happened," Lindsay said. "I wish we could know for sure."

  "Sometimes you don't get to know for sure," he said.

  "What are we going to do about it?" she asked.

  "What's to do? The authorities have the same information we have. More, they have the skeleton. If they're interested and think of it, they can ask if the family has any old photographs and go through the same process you did. We have no evidence. We're just guessing."

  "It will always look like Papaw killed that man and stole the artifacts."

  "Yes, and I don't know what we can do about that without accusing Maggie's dead husband of murder."

  "You did a good job," Lindsay said. "Looks like you have a little bit of detective in you, too."

  He smiled. "Runs in the family, I guess. Besides, you did all the work."

  Lindsay had only one voice mail waiting for her when she returned to her office from lunch-Will Patterson. She dialed his number.

  "You found out something, Will?" she asked.

  "Yeah, quite a lot, actually. Kaufman was found in his car on Chase Street at 9:30 last night by a couple who saw it in a ditch. They called the police. The police think he was killed someplace else, then the killer put his body in the car and drove the car to where it was found. They don't have a medical examiner's report yet, but, as you said, they do know he was shot and that your letter opener was added later."

  "I don't suppose you discovered if he called anyone before he left his office?"

  "Yes, I found that out, too" Will said. "Kaufman called Chris Pryor at home. Chris wasn't there. He then called Chris's shop from his car phone. The police talked to Chris, and he told them that Kaufman wanted to know how much his parents were paying you to find his sister's killer. He told them that as far as he knew, I was the detective his parents hired, and Kaufman should ask me what your fee is."

  "Why did Kaufman want to know that, I wonder?" Lindsay asked.

  "Chris told the police he didn't know," Will replied.

  "Anything else?"

  "I found out who was pointing Kaufman to you. It was in his notes." Will paused.

  Lindsay gripped the phone. "Who?"

  "Ellis Einer. Know him?"

  "Yes, I know him. I thought he was the one. Damn him! I suspect that he had something to do with the artifact theft, but I have no evidence, just a hunch."

  "I'll keep my ears open," Will said. "If I hear about anything else, I'll give you a call."

  "Ellis Einer," Lindsay said out loud after hanging up the phone. "That son of a ..." She rose from her chair, grabbed her purse and jacket, and stormed out the door. Walking across the old part of campus was something she usually enjoyed-the old buildings, huge ancient trees, green lawns. Now, however, she saw nothing of the beauty as she crossed in front of the library and made her way down the grassy quadrangle to the Administration Building situated next to the famous arch, the symbolic front door to campus.

  Lindsay stopped inside the building's lobby only long enough to look for Ellis Einer's office number in the directory. The assistant dean's office was at the end of the hallway on the first floor. She marched through the glass doors and told the secretary she wanted to see Einer.

  "Do you have an appointment?" the secretary asked.

  Lindsay had to tell herself that this woman was not at fault. She forced herself to speak calmly. "No, but what I have to see him about is important." A man came out of Einer's office at that moment and Lindsay saw Einer sitting at his desk as the door closed. "Oh, I see he's free," she said, and before the gatekeeper could close the drawbridge, Lindsay dashed into his office.

  "Dr. Chamberlain, this is a surprise," Einer said, smiling broadly. "What can I do for you? Please sit down."

  Lindsay remained standing. "You can tell me why you told Detective Kaufman that for a long time you have suspected me of stealing antiquities."

  "I don't know what you're talking about." All traces of his smile disappeared.

  "Murder brings things out in the open, Dr. Einer. Don't deny it, I know it is true. What I don't know is why."

  Einer said nothing for a moment. Lindsay could see him fighting to keep his temper. "I knew that there were some thefts," he began slowly. "You have been living beyond your means, and ..."

  "What? Exactly why do you think that?"

  "I know you have a $100,000 Arabian horse and a $55,000 Land Rover, and you are a nontenured assistant professor who has been on the faculty only a couple of years. I know what you make. You can't afford those luxuries."

  "Dr. Einer, you have no idea what I can or can't afford. How do you know about my horse?"

  "My daughter has an internship with your vet. She was quite impressed with your stallion and mentioned it to me."

  "Did she also tell you that my mother raises Arabians and she gave me the horse?" Einer said nothing. "And you don't know what I paid for my Rover or anything about my finances. How dare you use that flimsy evidence to justify telling Kaufman that I'm a thief."

  "Dr. Chamberlain. I suggest that you keep your voice down."

  "I suggest you do some serious repair work on my reputation."

  "Perhaps it would be better if you leave."

  "You know what I think?" said Lindsay. "I think you're the one stealing the artifacts, and you accused me in order to misdirect Kaufman."

  Einer leapt up from his plush leather chair. "How dare you ..." he sputtered.

  "You use the rare book room where items are missing, you know about the artifacts stored at Nancy Hart where items are missing-you've complained enough about the space-and you knew about the artifacts that my brother brought from Kentucky."

  "All that is rather weak, don't you think?" He relaxed, folding his arms, smiling at Lindsay. "Besides, I knew nothing about the Kentucky artifacts prior to their disappearance. You certainly didn't tell me about them, and if you ask Dr. Carter, he'll tell you he didn't tell me. I can't very well steal something I know nothing about. And I would watch very carefully whom you accuse of theft, Dr. Chamberlain. Your position at this university is very precarious."

  "You've made sure of that." Lindsay turned and marched out of his office and came face to face with Captain Grant and Officer Sharon Meyers. Obviously, they had heard everything-as did everyone else in the office suite.

  "Dr. Chamberlain," Grant said. "This is a surprise."

  "How did you find out who Kaufman was talking to?" asked Officer Meyers.

  "I have sources," Lindsay said. "And why did you think I drove a Land Rover?"

  Before Officer Meyers could answer, Einer came out of his office, his hand outstretched to Captain Grant, grinning broadly again. "I'm glad you came by," he said, a little too loudly, Lindsay thought.

  "Watch him closely. Kaufman may ha
ve caught on to him," Lindsay said to Grant and Meyers. She turned to see Einer give her a malevolent look.

  Lindsay returned to her office, sat in her chair, and stared at her grandfather's trowel sitting on the bookshelf, thinking that she should feel panicked about what she had just done. But she didn't. She felt relieved that the helplessness she had been feeling for days had lifted. Which astronaut said, "If you have only ten seconds to catastrophe, you spend nine seconds thinking and then you act, no matter what that act is"? Maybe it wasn't an astronaut, maybe it was Mr. Spock. Whoever it was, Lindsay believed they were right.

  Frank burst in without knocking. "Lindsay, what in the world were you thinking? Do you know who I've been talking to?"

  "Ellis Einer, no doubt."

  "Yes, Ellis Einer. Lindsay, have you gone crazy? You know, don't you, that there is no way they are going to renew your contract after this? Just what were you trying to do?"

  "Shake him up."

  "Well, you succeeded."

  "Good, did he confess?"

  "Don't be flip, Lindsay. This is your career."

  "Yes, I know it's my career, and I'm not going to sit back and watch while Einer tries to destroy it. He's been sitting up there in his plush office whispering in Kaufman's ear, lying, slandering me, making me a grand larceny suspect, and I've been helpless up until now, because I didn't know who was telling lies about me. Now that I know, I'm not going to sit around and wait to see if things just happen to work out in my favor."

  "You think the answer was to go to his office and accuse him?"

  Lindsay stared at Frank for a moment. "Yes, I do. Do you know why he said he did it?" Lindsay answered before Frank could say anything. "He said it's because he thinks I'm living beyond my income."

  Frank opened his mouth and closed it. He sat down. "So, he admitted accusing you?"

  "Yes, he admitted it. I told you before that I thought Einer was the one talking to Kaufman. I had a friend confirm it from police records before I went to Einer's office. Frank, the only reason he accused me was to make sure the investigation for the missing artifacts went astray. As far as I know, he had nothing against me personally. I think my brother and I were simply convenient."

  "But how did he know about the Kentucky artifacts?"

  "He was here when the skeleton fell out of the crate."

  "Yes, but there were no artifacts visible then," Frank said. "I didn't tell him about them. It's not something I wanted him to know about. He's always bitched about the amount of storage space we use. Do you think one of the students could have told him about them?"

  "I don't know. I don't think so. I don't know who would have. Sally and I asked around, and I really don't believe any of the students have talked with Einer. They don't even know who he is."

  "Lindsay, the artifacts were stolen less than two days after they arrived. Their presence here wasn't common knowledge. Perhaps that's why Einer thought it was you. That, and the fact that some of the artifacts were found in your brother's Jeep."

  "Those were planted, Frank." Frank sighed, and Lindsay wondered if he really believed Sinjin had stolen them after all.

  "Maybe he didn't know that, Lindsay. Maybe that and your seeming to spend money beyond your means really did make him suspicious."

  "He told Kaufman that he'd suspected me for a long time. I assume he was talking about the thefts from the museum about a year ago."

  "That is strange," Frank conceded. He brushed his black hair from his face and wrinkled his brow. "Still, going to the Administration Building and publicly accusing Einer. I just don't know."

  "The way it was, all he had to do was sit tight. It would all blow over. There wasn't enough evidence to arrest me, so his conscience would be clear about that, but the police still had me and Sinjin as their prime suspects, and they wouldn't look anywhere else, certainly not at him. I had to shake him up."

  Frank couldn't seem to come up with a counterargument, but Lindsay could see he clearly didn't think her solution was the right one, either. "What do you think this will gain you?"

  Lindsay had to admit to herself that she wasn't surebut not to Frank. "I want to direct some of the police's attention toward him, and I want to make him nervous. He'll be more apt to make a mistake."

  "Lindsay, you're sounding like an old detective movie. Why don't you give the police your suspicions and let them take care of it?"

  "Because they don't care about me like I do. My career crisis is not a crisis to them."

  "Be careful. As bad as things seem now, they can get worse if you persist in pushing Einer."

  "Maybe. And maybe they'll get better." They were both quiet a moment, and Lindsay cooled down a bit. "Trey tells me that Francisco Lewis is coming to town," she said.

  "Yes. I'm hoping we'll all know a lot more about the future of the department by the time he leaves."

  "Is this impending change the reason none of the nontenured faculty have gotten the letters renewing our contracts?"

  "I think so, but I don't know for sure. I've called Administration, but I can't get an answer."

  Frank left with a final warning, which Lindsay planned to ignore. Whether it was just adrenaline or the act of taking initiative, she felt better. She wasn't planning to let Einer off the hook, at least until she got a better answer from him.

  But she was stumped about what to do next. A rash act would only take her so far. It was time to devise a more thoughtful plan. She really didn't know anything about Einer, other than the usual academic information. She knew his doctorate was in physics, but he had been an administrator for most of his career. Who could she ask about him, she wondered? The Pryors knew him. They were the ones who sent Einer to her in the first place. She doubted they would talk to her about him, but maybe Chris would. She pulled an Athens phone book from her drawer and looked for the number of the Glass Imagerie.

  As Lindsay waited for the clerk to get Chris to the phone, she considered several ways to ask him about Einer and rejected them all, opting for the straightforward approach. She expected him to politely tell her he didn't know anything, and that would be it. She heard rustling as he picked up the phone.

  "This is Chris, what can I do for you?"

  "Chris, this is Lindsay Chamberlain. I know this is unusual, but I was wondering if you can tell me anything about Ellis Einer? I know he's a family friend and I wouldn't blame you if you went to him with this-" She hurried on before he could answer. "But you are the only person I know to ask, and it is important to me."

  "Well, sure. He's my parents' friend, mainly. They play bridge together." He hesitated. "I'll tell you what I can. How about over dinner? Maybe you can meet me at the Last Resort this evening?"

  "Yes. Thank you, Chris. I appreciate this."

  "I don't know what I can do, but it'll be nice to have dinner with you."

  Chapter 24

  LINDSAY FOUND CHRIS waiting for her outside the entrance to the Last Resort Cafe. "Thank you for meeting with me," she said.

  "No problem. I've been looking forward to it all afternoon." Chris wore jeans and a navy windbreaker and looked more comfortable than the last time she had talked with him. "I appreciate what you did for me and my family."

  "I only did what Will hired me to do."

  "Nevertheless, finding Shirl has given the whole family some closure to a very painful period."

  They entered the restaurant and seated themselves at a corner table. The waitress came with menus and water. Lindsay ordered only a salad. The sense of relief brought about by her action had not yet reached her stomach. It was still tied in knots. Chris ordered a sandwich and a beer.

  "I saw your mother at the cemetery beside Baldwin yesterday," Lindsay said.

  "She and Dad've been pretty upset. Tom told them about Monica and Jeffery being adopted. They don't understand why Shirley went to all that trouble to hide it." He shook his head. "I could hardly remind them of the disapproving comments they made about our cousin who was adopted."

&n
bsp; "I haven't seen an announcement of a funeral service for Shirley," Lindsay said as considerately as she could. "As difficult as funerals are, they do help reach closure."

  Chris frowned. "Mom and Dad have been trying to get Tom to allow them to hire another forensic expert to examine Shirt's bones. They're arguing over that now."

  That surprised Lindsay, but she said nothing.

  "That's my fault, I'm afraid. Mom and Dad were upset over some of your findings, and I told them that if they weren't satisfied, they should get another opinion. Right now they're trying to convince themselves that Tom made up the adoption story in order to stop them from pushing for a new forensic examination. I don't think Mother believes that, but Dad does."

  "Perhaps a second opinion would be a good idea for them. Another forensic anthropologist will find the same thing I did."

  "I suppose you're wondering why I don't just tell them the whole story about the adoption." Chris signaled the waitress for a second beer.

  "It's none of my business."

  "I've tried a couple of times but I have neither the courage to hurt them nor the desire to go through their questions of why I hadn't told them before and why Shirley had confided in me and not them."

  "I can understand that. You were put in an awkward position," Lindsay said.

  "Do you think this guy-Ferris-did it?" Chris asked.

  "I don't know. There's no real proof either way. I don't think he'll be convicted on the evidence the sheriff has now."

  "I wish it were all over. Having Shirley's remains helps, but I just want it to be over."

  "This must be really terrible for you," Lindsay said. "I shouldn't be bothering you."

  "No, I didn't mean that." He smiled at her, then reached out and touched her hand, gently brushing the back of it with his fingertips. "I really meant it when I said I've been looking forward to this. Please, ask your questions."

  Lindsay smiled back. "OK. Do you know if Einer has an interest in antiques? I know his degree is in physics, but have you heard him talk about antiquities or anything like that, or does he have any in his house?"