Cleanup

by Norah McClintock

  “Oh my God!” Charles said.

  “Shut up, Charles.” Enid didn’t take her eyes off me for even one second. “You don’t have to tell them anything,” she said. “Yes, I knew about that woman. And, yes, I was there that morning. But I didn’t kill him. I swear it, Charles. He was alive when I left him.” Her eyes shifted back to me. “We can make it worth your while to keep your mouth shut.”

  “No,” I said.

  “I know about you,” Enid said. “I know your background. We can get you a new job—a better job. We can help you get qualified to practice law here.”

  I stared at her. Did she really think she could bribe me to cover up a murder?

  “Enid, we should go,” Charles said. “We should—”

  I edged toward the kitchen table to get my purse and my phone.

  “Stop her, Charles,” Enid cried.

  When Charles didn’t make a move, Enid grabbed my arm. I tried to break free of her, but she shoved me backward. She was stronger than she looked. I tripped over a chair, crashed into a wall and crumpled to the floor. Something cracked under me. My ankle.

  “Enid, please,” Charles said. His face was white and he was sweating.

  Enid’s eyes went to the MedicAlert bracelet on my wrist. She glanced at the inhaler on my kitchen counter.

  “She’s allergic to artificial scents,” she said mostly to herself. She turned toward me. “It must be a pretty bad allergy if you need that bracelet and an inhaler. I hear people can die from those allergy attacks.” She reached for her purse and pulled out a small spray vial.

  “What are you doing?” Charles asked.

  “She can make things look bad for us, Charles. If she tells the police that I was at the house—”

  “That you were both at the house,” I said. My eyes were fixed on the spray vial. What was she going to do?

  “If she tells them about the keys,” Enid continued, “that little tramp might get away with it. You don’t want that to happen, do you? You don’t want us to get arrested, do you?”

  “For what?” Charles said. “You said you didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Look around you, Charles,” Enid said.

  “I wasn’t at the house. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yes, you did,” I said. “You broke in here and attacked me. You’re helping her. Even if you didn’t kill your father, the police will charge you will being an accessory after the fact—and that’s in addition to charges of break-and-enter, assault, forcible confinement and—” I looked at the perfume vial in Enid’s hand and the desperate look on her face. “And attempted murder, if not murder,” I added.

  Enid came toward me. I tried to get up, but pain shot up through my leg. My ankle was broken. I was sure of it.

  “Things are bad enough for you two, Charles,” I said. “I know Enid wasn’t alone in the house. I know a man was there. I smelled cologne. I had a reaction to it.”

  “I wasn’t there,” Charles wailed.

  “It was the old man,” Enid said. “That’s what you smelled.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” I told her. “I checked. Mr. Camden let me back into the house. I smelled all the cologne Mr. Withers had. There was no match. Mr. Camden knows what I suspect. I told him.”

  Enid hand’s sagged a little. For the first time, she seemed unsure of herself.

  “I went to a store. I found the cologne I smelled that morning,” I said. “It’s in that bag.” I nodded to the counter. “I called Detective Bodie. I left him a message. I asked him to come by and get it. I told him what I suspected. If anything happens to me, he’ll come after you.”

  Charles grabbed the department store bag and ripped it open. He pulled out the bottle of cologne and stared at it in astonishment. He held it up to Enid. Her face went pale.

  “This is the same cologne that Andrew wears,” Charles said. “What did you two do, Enid?”

  Enid was staring at the small bottle too.

  “No,” she said weakly. “No.”

  Someone hammered on my door.

  “Ms. Suarez?” called a familiar voice. “Ms. Suarez, it’s Detective Bodie.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I’m here,” I called to Bodie. “So are Enid and Charles Withers. They broke in and assaulted me.” I looked at Charles. His face was chalky white. “If you don’t let him in, he’ll break the door down. Things will be even worse for you.”

  Charles walked slowly to the door and unlocked it. Bodie stood in the hall, his gun in his hand. Charles raised his hands instantly. Enid did the same. Bodie called for backup.

  “Are you okay, Ms. Suarez?” Bodie asked.

  “I think my ankle is broken.”

  Bodie called an ambulance. While we waited, I told him what had happened.

  “There’s been a terrible mistake,” Charles said. “I can explain.”

  “You’ll get your chance,” Bodie said.

  The other police and the ambulance arrived at almost the same time. The police took Charles and Enid into custody. The ambulance took me to the hospital.

  * * *

  It was late that night before I was ready to leave the hospital on crutches with my ankle in a cast. To my surprise, Bodie was waiting for me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “My ankle is broken. I’ll be on crutches for six weeks.” That meant I wouldn’t be able to work. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to pay my rent. “What happened to Charles and Enid? And Andrew?”

  “They’re all under arrest—Andrew for the murder of his father.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Andrew killed Charles? When did that happen?”

  “Charles isn’t the father,” Bodie said. “He’s the stepfather. Richard Withers is the father.”

  “What?”

  “That was pretty much my reaction,” Bodie said. “It seems Enid had an affair with Richard while Richard’s wife was still alive. Enid got pregnant. The old man gave her an allowance, but he refused to divorce his wife. She got back at him by going after Charles—Richard’s only other child— and marrying him instead. When Richard found out, he told her that if she said anything to anyone, he would cut Charles out of his will. Charles wouldn’t inherit a dime. Neither would she or Andrew.”

  “That’s pretty harsh,” I said.

  Bodie nodded. “Well, you have met the woman,” he said.

  I saw his point. Enid Withers was a difficult woman to like.

  “According to Enid,” he continued, “the old man took great delight in telling her that he was going to marry Maria. Enid was furious. She argued with him. But there was nothing she could do.”

  “Except kill him so that he wouldn’t change his will after he got married,” I said.

  “He’d already changed it. But she didn’t know that. She also didn’t know that he’d included a provision for the baby. It must have been hard for her when she found out—especially after the way the old man treated her son.”

  “Did she confess?”

  Bodie shook his head. “She says she didn’t do it. She says he was alive when she left the house. Andrew is backing her up.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I do,” Bodie said. “We finally found a couple of witnesses. Someone saw Enid arrive at the house just before eight in the morning. She parked right in the driveway. Someone else saw a car matching the description of Andrew’s car pull up a few minutes later. He parked around the corner, as if he didn’t want anyone seeing him. A man out walking his dog saw him enter through the side of the property. And as far as we’ve been able to tell, his car was still parked around the corner after Enid drove away. So it’s possible that Andrew and Enid are telling the truth. It’s possible Enid wasn’t involved.”

  “Did Andrew say anything else?”

  “He told us his side of the story. Did you know he was in love with Maria?”

  “Yes.”

  Bodie frowned. “Exactly how much information did you w
ithhold from the police, Ms. Suarez?” he asked.

  “I just found out about Andrew this morning, from Maria. I was going to tell you.”

  He looked far from convinced.

  “Andrew says he went to the house to see Maria,” he said. “He was obsessed with her. He says he loved her and that he wanted to beg her to give him another chance. Instead, he ended up talking to the old man, who told him that he was going to marry Maria. He says that’s when he lost control of himself. He grabbed the first thing he laid hands on and smashed the old man over the head. He killed his own father and didn’t even know it. Enid hid it from him—and from Charles.”

  “So Andrew confessed?” I asked.

  Bodie nodded.

  “Then Maria is free to go?” I asked.

  “She’ll be released tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch. “Better make that this morning. Can I give you a lift home, Ms. Suarez?”

  He not only drove me home, but he also helped me up to my apartment.

  I slept for a couple of hours before being woken by my phone. It was Maria.

  “I’m free!” she crowed. “That detective, he said it’s because of you.”

  “I think he had a lot to do with it too, Maria.”

  “I am going tomorrow to see Mr. Richard’s lawyer,” she said. “He says there are many details to take care of. Will you come with me, Connie? I want to understand everything he says.”

  I told her I would be happy to go with her.

  “And, Connie, I talked to Mr. Camden about you. I told him I want to help you become a lawyer here in this country. He says he can tell us what to do. I will help you, Connie. I can do that now.”

  “What will I tell Mike?” I asked with a laugh.

  “You tell him what I told him. You tell him, ‘Mike, I quit.’”

  I had to admit, it sounded like a great idea. I could hardly wait.

  NORAH MCCLINTOCK’s fascinating mysteries are hard to put down. She is a five-time winner of the Crime Writers of Canada’s Arthur Ellis Award for Best Juvenile Crime Novel. Norah grew up in Montreal, Quebec, and now lives with her family in Toronto, Ontario. Visit www.web.net/~nmbooks for more information.