Murder at Peacock Mansion

by Judy Alter

  Back at the café I typed Walter Aldridge’s name into Google and came up with several entries. Alas, no Wikipedia page, which was where I always liked to start when looking something up. Not reliable, I know, but great for an overview.

  I read the obituary, even an entry in the Handbook of Texas history, assorted other newspaper clippings, and gradually a picture of Walter emerged. I almost laughed when I realized that I had spent so much time wondering who killed Walter that I didn’t even know how he amassed his fortune. He was a banker with a big bank in Dallas, now defunct. From the obituary I learned that he had been a civic leader, active in Rotary, the Elks, the Republican Party, and the Presbyterian Church. But I also learned that he was born on a North Texas farm and clawed (well, they didn’t use that word but it was clear) his way to the top, doing a variety of menial jobs, each one a step up the ladder. He and Edith had been married twenty years when he was killed. Sounded to me like twenty years of misery, perhaps for both of them. He was older than she—fifty-two when he died to her thirty-eight—and was preceded in death by his first wife, Alicia Campbell Aldridge. He was survived by his wife and three children.

  There were the expected stories with headlines that blared, “Prominent banker shot at country home” and the like. It tickled me to think of the mansion, as we had begun to call it, as a country home. Inevitably, they concluded with something like, “The local police have no leads,” or “Law officials are questioning Mrs. Aldridge.” Of course, the spouse is always first in line. No mention of the broken French door, the desk, the check he was writing, none of what Edith had told me.

  But there were other articles—one with an image of what I presumed was Walter hiding his face with his fedora as he was led away. The headline read, “Banker caught in gambling raid.” One of my suspicions confirmed.

  Another article, without an image, led off with the line, “Is embezzlement a problem at a local big bank?” The bank wasn’t named, but the article was clear enough, stating that the bank president had gambling debts. The picture of Walter that was emerging wasn’t all that pretty.

  A few pictures showed Walter at various banquets, receptions, museum previews, and the like—places a prominent citizen would want to be seen. Often as not, one beautiful woman or another, all younger than Edith was at the time, was seen standing quite close to him, never clinging, never touching, but always there.

  About four I turned off the computer, locked up the copious notes I’d taken, and told Marj I was going for a walk to clear my head.

  “You been at that thing all day. Something serious?”

  “You might say that, but nothing to worry about.” At least not for you, but a lot for me to worry about.

  I walked for half an hour, wandering down one side of the main street, almost to the edge of town, and back up the other. I thought of dropping in on Donna at Tremont House, but I figured she’d blame me for the loss of her guests, so I just kept going. It felt good to stretch and be out in the fresh air.

  I did a lot of thinking, but mostly what I came up with was that another visit to James should be next on my agenda. I wanted some honest memories about growing up in that household, what his father was like, and what he remembered about the night Walter was killed. I didn’t think James would play games with me.

  Back at the café, I put on a clean apron and prepared for the evening. Nora was the main cook, and Sallie was on duty, so I alternated between taking orders and plating dinners. It wasn’t a busy evening, but there was a steady enough run of customers to make me happy. To my surprise, James Aldridge came in about six fifteen with his girlfriend.

  “James. This is a nice surprise. Must be mental telepathy.”

  He ducked, like a shy boy. “Oh, oh. Shelly here wanted to go out to dinner, and I told her this is as fancy as it gets. Kate, this is Shelly. Shelly, Kate, who owns this place.”

  We exchanged greetings, said the usual “Nice to meet you,” and I showed them to the corner table, where many infamous conversations had been held. No, I wasn’t going to grill James tonight. I just wanted them to have a quiet, happy evening.

  “Can I have a beer?” James asked.

  “Sorry. Not unless you want to take your dinner to my house next door. I don’t make that offer to all customers.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure not, but I’ll settle for iced tea.”

  Shelly chimed in with, “Me, too.”

  They both studied the menu. Shelly asked for chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and greens, and James followed, saying “Sounds good to me.”

  “Just like your sister. She loved it too when she was here.”

  “Rose? Here?”

  “Under an assumed name, but I figured it out. Said you all grew up eating chicken-fried.”

  “We did. Dad had a thing for it, and we had a country woman for a cook.”

  “Well, let’s see if mine can live up to that.” I went to turn their orders in.

  When I came back with their orders, James asked, “Can you sit and visit a minute?”

  Ordinarily, it was against house rules to visit with customers, other than family, while they ate, but I made yet another exception. It was slow enough Sallie could handle things if I took the cash register. I sat down, saying, “Just for a minute. I want you to savor your dinner.”

  “We will,” he promised and cut off a bit of steak. He chewed with his eyes off in the air, as though he were making an important decision. Have you ever watched the expression on judges’ faces on those TV cooking shows? That’s how he looked.

  I waited for his verdict.

  “Better than what I remember,” he said. “Shell?”

  “Absolutely delicious.” She twitted him on the nose with her fork, leaving a blob of gravy. He grinned, wiped it away, and they shared a private moment.

  I looked away, then took a deep breath and asked, “Shelly, what do you do in Edom?”

  “Clean up after James,” she said with a laugh. “It’s a full-time job. Painters are notoriously sloppy, but he’s the worst. He’d paint in the buff if I let him. No, I clean, cook, do the laundry, all that mundane stuff.”

  James took her hand. “She’s actually a pretty good poet, beginning to get some stuff published in small literary journals. I’m really proud of her.”

  I watched them. They were happy and devoted to each other. I doubted that was true of his brother and sister and their spouses. Kate, stop judging.

  “James, I want you two to enjoy your dinner, so I don’t want to ask you any questions tonight, but might I come see you tomorrow, either right after the breakfast rush or the noon one?”

  “Of course. Afternoon might be better. I usually do my best work in the morning. Say, about two? I can come here if you want.”

  Better to be on his turf where he’s comfortable. “No, I think your studio will be fine. If it’s as nice as today, we can walk and talk.”

  “Sounds like a deal. I’ll look forward to it…well, maybe, depending on what you want to talk about.”

  “There’s only one elephant in the room right now,” I said as I rose to leave.

  They lingered over dinner, but when I could see they were almost through I brought them two pieces of chocolate thunder cake a la mode. “On the house,” I said.

  “You don’t have to do that, Kate,” Shelly protested.

  “No, but I want to make sure you come back.”

  “We will. I’ll prod old stick-in-the-mud here to get us out of our routine. I like to eat at home but not every night.”

  They left after finishing their cake. “See you tomorrow,” James said, and Shelly said, “I hope I’ll get a chance to say hello.”

  “Me too.”

  She held out her hand and said, “Truly nice to meet you. James liked you the day you came to talk to him. Usually he doesn’t tell me anything about visitors.”

  “I liked him too. And now I want to get to know you better.” I reached and gave her a huge hug.

  After th
ey left, the crowd really dwindled. I ate one piece of chicken-fried chicken—the thigh, my favorite—and a salad, bussed the tables with Sallie and collected the day’s tickets. We were out of there early, eight forty-five, but it was still dark when I started across the meadow, and I got out my flashlight.

  I had that eerie feeling of being watched again, but I put my head down, watched where I planted my feet, and kept going. Huggles was waiting by the gate, which was immense reassurance to me. He was wagging his tail, so he sensed nothing awry in the night.

  With relief, I let us both into the kitchen, locked the door, and turned on the alarm system. Safe and snug in my own home, though I missed David. I knew all along I’d get too used to him being there at night.

  I hadn’t been home too long when he called. We exchanged news of the day, with me reporting on my web explorations of Walter, his gambling and womanizing, my unexpected visit with James and Shelly, and my plans to talk to James. He countered that he had court records in a new briefcase, ready to bring back, and had cleared up some things on other unrelated cases.

  “It’s a good thing I came in. I’ve let too many loose ends slide. Settled a divorce case out of court, and got approval on a new will from another client. I have a lot of work to do when I get back.”

  “Hmmm. When is that?” My voice was sleepy and probably unintentionally had a “come hither” sound to it, as though I could ever be that provocative.

  “Kate, don’t do that to me. I’ll do all I can to be home tomorrow night. I have to clean up a few more things at the office.”

  I liked his use of the word “home.” We talked longer that night—about an hour and a half—than we had in the whole time since he was beaten. And he didn’t once mention the new house. I went to bed with a happy feeling.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Huggles barked and woke me about two in the morning. There’s something about a dog’s bark—when he’s telling me there’s a critter in the backyard, I murmur, “Good dog,” roll over, and go back to sleep. But this bark was different—a deep growl in his throat, followed by frantic barking. He ran to me in bed, licked my face, and then ran back to the dark kitchen. I stumbled along behind, just in time to hear someone try the doorknob. Who would think I’d left it unlocked?

  In panic, we don’t always—ever?—act with good sense. Without thinking I flipped on the lights, only to realize that meant I couldn’t see whoever was out there and they had a full view of me in my T-shirt and underpants. Flipped the light off again.

  Huggles ran to the front of the house, and I did the first thing right. When Huggles woke me, I’d thought to grab the cell phone by my bed. Now, in the dark of the hall, I pushed the speed dial button for Chester.

  “Chester Grimes,” he mumbled.

  “Someone outside my house, Chester.”

  He was immediately alert. “On my way.”

  I huddled in the hall, listening and watching as my canine protector went from one end of the house to the other, still growling, still barking. Wynona sensed the unease and crept out of the bedroom to sit close to me.

  I wondered if this person would break in this time. Lord knows it wouldn’t have been hard in that old house—a tap on a window and he was in, though I’d installed a dead bolt on the kitchen door and hung the key on a hook slightly out of reach. The front door had two dead bolts, and the only keys were on my key ring. Chester had warned me about fire hazard, and I kept meaning to get extra keys.

  I held my breath, waiting for sounds from outside. Sometimes I thought I heard footsteps; other times I told myself it was my imagination. The night seemed perfectly silent, and Chester seemed perfectly slow. Then, like a merciful sound, I heard that slight “bleep” that law enforcement calls give as an announcement they’ve arrived. He came quietly, not giving whoever it was time to get away but putting him on alert. In retrospect, I thought maybe he shouldn’t have even done that, but I would never tell Chester.

  There were running sounds, Chester shouting, a motor gunned, and then Chester turned on his siren full blast and they were off on a chase.

  I moved to the kitchen and sat shaking in one of the chairs. By now I’d turned all the lights on, inside and out. Wynona, probably figuring the excitement was over, stalked back to the bedroom, but Huggles came and sat with his head on my knee, eyes looking up at me intently, as though trying to tell me what he heard.

  “I know, boy. You’re a good protector, and I thank you.” I buried my face in his thick coat, and he rewarded me with lavish kisses to my face. Then I ran to put on a pair of shorts before Chester came back.

  I waited for what seemed like forever. The siren sound had faded, and the night was once again silent. I was too scared to even stand up and look out the kitchen door. Finally, Chester called my cell phone.

  “Lost him. But I got his license number. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Ten minutes! He must have followed that guy a good ways out of town, probably twisting and turning on back roads, which made me think it was someone who knew those county roads. When Chester did come to the back door, he was winded and flustered. I opened the door, got him seated at the table, and asked, “Coffee or beer?”

  “You got whiskey?”

  “A bit.”

  “Two fingers. Neat. And don’t tell Carolyn.”

  For the first time I grinned. “Of course not.” I gave him his whiskey—more like three fingers—and sat waiting.

  “I’m too old and too slow for this kind of thing,” he said sorrowfully. “Makes me think I should turn in my badge. Whoever he is, he’s a damn good driver. And he knows this county, the back roads. I couldn’t push myself or my car to keep up with him.”

  “Maybe it was the car,” I said. “You need to request a better one.” This wasn’t answering my questions, but I could tell Chester was filled with self-doubt, and I felt sorry for him. David would have said, “Get to the point, man!”

  He did, finally, get to the point. “Maybe I shouldn’t have announced my arrival. Maybe I was afraid of a confrontation—a shootout.”

  “Chester, you can’t second-guess yourself. Tell me what you did see and learn.” You’d have thought I was interrogating him, instead of the other way around.

  He took a deep breath and another sip of whiskey. “Tall guy, not thin, not really good shape. Must’ve been in the backyard because he jumped the fence, but it’s a low fence. Even I could jump it. And I was out of my car by the time he hit the highway. Had my gun ready but, hell, I just really don’t want to use it. Yelled for him to stop, but he jumped in a dark car parked not far from where I was. I jumped in mine, made a U-turn, and followed him. Godamighty, I bet we got up to ninety miles an hour, on twisty back roads so that I wasn’t even sure I could find my way back.”

  He fumbled around in a pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “But here’s his license. L5X 6T2. I can run it in the morning. But by now, he’s probably gotten rid of the car.” Chester pulled a huge, pure white handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow. Then he took another sip of whiskey. Then he sat in silence, and so did I.

  Finally I ventured, “What next?”

  “I don’t rightly know. I’ll report this to Halstead. I also think we have to put a watch on your house. For instance, I don’t want you coming from the café alone after dark.”

  Yes, I was afraid. But at the same time I didn’t want someone watching me all the time. I didn’t want to be tied to someone else’s time schedule for when I left the restaurant.

  “David will be back tomorrow, and he’s off his crutches.”

  “Still can’t run very fast,” Chester mused.

  “No, but he can shoot straight. He’s got your pistol and will probably bring his own back with him. He’ll protect me.”

  “No doubt. I’m just not sure it’s enough.”

  Chester nursed his whiskey, and we sat in silence, though I wouldn’t exactly call it companionable silence. We were each trying to figure out wha
t was going on.

  Finally he took a last sip. “You goin’ to call David tonight?”

  “Yes.” I needed to talk to David and was just waiting for Chester to leave, though I didn’t want to seem ungrateful or impatient.

  “You’ll be alright tonight, Kate. Take a sleeping pill or drink another glass of wine, and get some rest. I’ll be in touch in the morning.”

  “Thanks.” I stood and walked around the table to give him a hug. “Don’t tell Carolyn I’m half in love with you.”

  He chuckled. “She’d be glad. And I am too. Now lock me out, set your alarm, and call David. He needs to know what went on.”

  As I could have predicted, David was sound asleep, and it took him a minute to come to his senses. “Kate? Is something wrong?”

  “Not any more. But I wanted to tell you what happened tonight. I’m sorry to wake you, it’s purely selfish. But I’ll feel better if you know.”

  His voice deepened, and I could almost see him clutching the phone tightly as he demanded, “What happened?”

  So I told him. Every detail as I remembered it. Every frightening moment. “Huggles is the hero of the day. And Chester.”

  “Damn. I wish I’d been there.”

  “No, it’s all okay. And now that I’m talking to you, I’ll be able to sleep.”

  “Well, hell, I won’t,” he shouted. “I’ll drive back first thing in the morning.”

  “No, stay and finish your business. I’m okay in the daytime. It’s nights that scare me. And you’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  “For damn sure. I’m not sure I even like you being in the café during the day.”

  “David, there are lots of people around, and I bet some of those farmers are carrying. I’m safe. Besides, I have an errand to run in the afternoon.”