“Oh, Erna,” I cried, tears streaming down my face as I raised my eyes to hers. “All these years I’ve been blaming Jack for being so indifferent to Ben, and it might have been all my fault!”
She got up from her chair and came around the table to hug me. Laying my head on her thin shoulder, I sobbed while she rocked me like a child. “Hush, it’s alright, Anna,” she said, stroking my hair. “I may be wrong, and even if it is true, it’s not all your fault. If Jack wasn’t sure about his son, he should have asked you about it. A brave man would have wanted to know the truth. Here, wipe your face, now.” She pushed the paper napkins toward me and I dried my face.
“I’ll make more tea,” she said, getting up from the table to add water to the kettle and set it on the stove to boil. I watched her blearily as she dumped out the used teabags and fetched fresh bags from the cupboard. She was so small that she had to stand on tiptoe to reach them. The water came to a boil and she made a fresh pot. I watched as she poured us each another cup.
“Anna, what are you thinking?” she asked, sitting back down at the table.
I sighed. “I don’t know, Erna. I’m going to have to wrestle with this one for awhile.”
“But dear, even if there’s only a slight chance of it being true, don’t you see what a difference it would make to Ben? Maybe he would stop hating his father and find some peace with the way things were between them at last.”
“And start hating me instead,” I muttered.
“He might, Anna, for a little while. But Ben is a loving child, and he knows what Jack put you through. I think that he would understand about this eventually, and forgive you.”
“But, what if he doesn’t Erna?” I asked, my throat tight. “What if this changes our relationship forever? I’m afraid to tell him.”
She nodded. “I know, dear. It’s very hard, but you’re a brave woman. Look at how you started your life all over again after leaving your husband. I know that you have the courage to do this, and that you want what’s best for your son.”
I thought about Ben and the look on his face when he told me that he hated Jack. Maybe it was possible to end that pain by telling him about my lie. I groaned. “It’s true, Erna – our sins do come back to haunt us. Or maybe it’s karma, if you prefer.”
She nodded. “Oh, I definitely do, dear. I’ve seen it happen far too often not to.” She glanced at her watch. “My, is that the time? My niece, Debbie, will be calling me in half an hour. She calls every Sunday at 2 PM – such a sweet, reliable girl. Do you think you’ll be alright if I get going?”
I nodded and smiled. “Of course I will, Erna. It’s a shock, but I’ll deal with it somehow. Would you like a lift home?”
Erna rose from her chair and gathered up her things. “No thank you, Anna, it’s such a nice afternoon for a walk. Why don’t you relax and put your feet up? I bet you’re all worn out.” Wendy got up from the kitchen entrance and padded over to us. “Such a good girl,” Erna said, stroking her head. She bent to look into Wendy’s eyes. “Now, you take good care of your mistress, Wendy.” Wendy wagged her tail. “Good girl,” Erna said, kissing her on the head. Turning back to me, she added, “If you need to talk, Anna, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll be in this evening after I’ve had dinner with May.”
I got up and walked Erna to the door. “Thank you, Erna. You’ve been so kind, listening to my story and letting me cry on your shoulder.”
She paused at the front door. “No, it’s been my pleasure, dear. I’m glad that you had someone to talk to, now that your mother is gone. I’m proud of you, you know. Of everything you’ve accomplished and of the woman you are. I’m sure that your mother would have been proud of you, too.”
I bent to kiss her cheek. It was warm and smelled sweetly of powder. “Thank you, Erna. I just hope that I have the courage to do the right thing.
“I know you’ll do what’s best, dear,” she said, patting my cheek. She let herself out, and I sank down into a chair in the living room. The tears began to trickle down my face again, and I rolled into a ball and fell asleep.
Three hours later, after I had slept for a couple of hours and had some time to think, I took the phone out onto the deck and called Amy.
“Hi Amy, it’s Anna. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Anna.”
“Good – glad to hear it. The reason I’m calling, Amy, is because I need your help. I’d like to have a look at Jessie Wick. Would you be able to smuggle me onto the set one day when she’s filming?”
I heard a sharp intake of breath. “Why do you want to see Jessie, Anna?”
“Because she and Jack had an affair four years ago, and because she might have been seeing him again recently. She might have wanted to get even with him for something he did to her years ago. I don’t know for sure, Amy, but I can’t let this murder go. I’ve got to find out who killed Jack.”
There was dead silence on the line. “Are you still there, Amy?” I asked.
“Yes. I don’t know, Anna. I’m thinking that it was a mistake to get involved with this in the first place. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid to do anything more.”
“I understand that, Amy, really I do, and I don’t blame you for one minute.”
“Yesterday at the Primos was really scary.”
“Oh, I know. I was terrified myself. And I’m just about finished with all of this, Amy. I’m sure that Sergeant Tremaine will handle things just fine without my help. The thing is, I’m afraid that he might not find the murderer, and if he doesn’t, people will always suspect that I did it. That would be an awful thing to have hanging over my head. I might even have to move out of town, and I’d hate to have to do that. I really like it here. So, for my sake and for Ben’s, I’m hoping that you’ll help me.”
I was playing on her sympathy and I didn’t like it, but I needed Amy’s help to get onto that film set. After the talk I’d had with Erna today, I thought that the best way to help my son would be to solve the mystery of who had murdered Jack so that we could put this all behind us. If Ben could forget about his father, maybe there was no need to tell him about my lie.
“I wouldn’t want you to have to move away, Anna. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“No, it wouldn’t. So if I could just have a look at Jessie – see what she’s like and what kind of person she is – then I could form some sort of opinion about her. If you could do me this one last favour, Amy, I would really appreciate it.”
“Well, I am scheduled back on set Thursday evening, and I think that Jessie is called then, too. I can double-check with the assistant director, if you like.”
“That would be great, Amy. Listen, as long as you’re talking to the assistant director, can you ask if Jessie was working on the night Jack was killed?”
I heard a sigh. “Oh, Anna.”
“Please, Amy?”
“I guess I can do that, too, but this will have to be the last time.
“Oh, Amy, you’re so wonderful. I promise that this will be the last favour I ask.”
“Alright, Anna, I’ll call you back when I have some information.”
I hung up the phone feeling terribly guilty. Poor Amy, I was dragging her in deeper than she wanted to go. But I really intended this to be the last time I would use her, and I didn’t think that visiting the set would put her in any danger. Hopefully, Thursday night’s visit would be a revelation.
Chapter Seventeen
Amy phoned me back that evening to confirm that Jessie was called for the shoot on Thursday evening, and we made arrangements to drive to the set together after supper. Amy also told me that Jessie had not been working on the night that Jack was killed.
“But that doesn’t mean much, Anna. After all, I wasn’t working that night, and you don’t suspect me.”
“But you were working. You had a customer at 6:30.”
“Oh, right, I forgot about that. Wait a minute – Anna Nolan, do you mean to tell me that if I hadn’t had a client, you would have suspected me of
shooting Jack?”
“No, Amy, I wouldn’t have. You’re just not the murdering type. But, as it turns out, you did have a client.”
Amy sniffed. “Alright, I’ll pick you up at your house at 6:00. I’m supposed to be in make-up by 6:30, so don’t be late. Make sure you wear something plain so that you don’t draw attention to yourself – I don’t want Jessie noticing you. I asked the assistant director about bringing you, and she said that she didn’t have a problem with it because you’re Jack’s widow. She thinks you just want to see the last film Jack worked on because you’re sentimental. But let’s not push our luck, Anna.”
“Uh, Amy, do you know if either Karen or Connie will be on set Thursday night?”
Amy snorted. “No, of course not. Do you think I’d want you anywhere near them if they were? There’s a second location in the mountains about seventy kilometres away. Connie and Karen will be filming out there until Friday.”
“That’s good, but you shouldn’t worry about them, Amy. They don’t know that I was in their house yesterday.”
“Well, I just think it’s a good idea to keep the three of you separated. You’ll get in less trouble that way.”
I smiled into the phone. Poor Amy, she really was spooked. I said, “I’ll be waiting for you on Thursday, Amy. And thanks again.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, swiftly cutting the connection.
As I drove to the university the next morning, I decided to concentrate on nothing but work for the whole day. I‘d been distracted and letting things slide lately, which wasn’t like me. I was usually the picture of efficiency. Tomorrow I’d be taking the day off for Jack’s funeral, and there was still some fine-tuning to be done on the schedule for next year’s winter classes before I could turn it over to the Scheduling Department. When I arrived at my desk, however, I found a sympathy card signed by everyone in the department. This token of support brought emotions best buried back to the surface, and I started to feel weepy. Hurrying to the ladies’ washroom, I hid in there for half an hour before getting a grip on myself. People were very kind to me for the rest of the day, dropping by my desk to offer their sympathies and to see how I was holding up, and I kept my emotions in check as best as I could before scurrying home at 4:30.
I had trouble sleeping that night and woke up early feeling both tired and sad the next morning. It was time to say goodbye to Jack, and to the happiest and most miserable parts of my life. I crawled out of bed and took Wendy for a long walk, hoping that the exercise would help me feel better. It did – it gave me time for a good long think. I shed some tears along the way, but by the time I got home, showered, and changed into a simple black dress, I felt ready to face the funeral with some degree of serenity.
I drove over to the church and parked on the street half an hour before the funeral. Ferguson’s hearse was already parked out front. The neighbourhood was quiet; no one was out for a walk at 9:30 in the morning. St. Bernadette’s Elementary School was located right across the street. The playground was always lively before and after school and at break times, but the children were all inside at their lessons. It was an overcast day, and I felt cheerless as I pulled open the church’s back door and let myself in.
Father Winfield, dressed in a black robe with a purple stole, was standing beside the front pew talking with a man I didn’t recognize. There was a tall wooden stand draped in white linen in the aisle beside him. The stranger, wearing a proper grey suit, held a brass urn in his arms. He had to be from the funeral parlour. Both men turned to look at me as I walked up the aisle.
“Anna, how are you this morning?” Father Winfield asked, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“I’m fine, thank you, Father.”
“Let me introduce you to Ferguson’s funeral director, Mr. Albert Ferguson.”
Mr. Ferguson placed the urn upon the stand and turned to take both my hands. “How do you do, Mrs. Nolan. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said in a well-modulated voice.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ferguson, and thank you for looking after Jack.”
He patted my hand. “You’re very welcome, Mrs. Nolan. I hope that you’re happy with my choice of urn for your husband’s remains?”
I looked down at it and had the crazy notion that if I rubbed it three times, Jack might pop out of it like a genie. Death can have a strange effect on people. “Yes, it’s very . . . handsome.”
He released my hand. “Since we will not be progressing to the cemetery after the service, I will remove the urn and take it back with me. Tomorrow I will send the deceased’s ashes to the funeral home you specified in Ontario.”
“Thank you. Jack’s mother and I appreciate that.”
“You’re most welcome.”
I glanced up to the altar stairs and saw a beautiful spray of spring flowers in a tall white vase placed beside my arrangement. “How beautiful. I wonder who sent them?” I asked.
“They were delivered half an hour ago. The card that came with them says that the flowers are sent with the best wishes of Chinook University’s Kinesiology Department,” Father Winfield replied.
I was touched. I was usually the person who arranged for the delivery of flowers and sympathy cards on behalf of the department. Magdalena must have sent these.
“Would you like to take the flowers home with you after the service?” Father Winfield asked.
“Oh no, you keep them for the church please, Father.”
Two giggly pre-pubescent girls burst from the sacristy door out onto the altar. Father Winfield waved at them before turning back to me.
“Please excuse me, Anna – the altar servers are here from the grade school. Good morning, Sherry and Jessica. Thank you for volunteering to assist us today. Please go get yourselves ready.” The three disappeared back into the sacristy, Father Winfield herding the girls before him.
“I’ll let you have a few moments to yourself before your guests arrive, Mrs. Nolan,” said Mr. Ferguson, nodding and retreating down the aisle.
I turned back to the urn to take a closer look. Jack’s name and his birth and death dates were inscribed on it in a fine script.
“Well, here we are, Jack,” I whispered, laying my hand on the sealed lid. “Neither of us saw this coming, did we? Funny how things turned out. We were so crazy in love when we got married, so thrilled the day Ben was born, but it all ended in divorce. And then someone took your life.” I paused, my eyes getting filmy. “We haven’t figured out who did it yet, but we will, and we’ll bring your killer to justice. Maybe you don’t even care about that, wherever you are right now. Anyway, have a safe trip back to Ontario to your mother, and rest in peace. Hey, if you make it to heaven, say hello to my mother for me, will you?” I patted the jar and smiled.
The door opened at the back of the church and I turned to see who was coming in. May and Erna came down the aisle, Erna’s hand tucked into May’s arm, with Betty following behind them. I hurried forward to greet them.
“I didn’t expect to see you here this morning,” I said, delighted that they had come.
“Well, of course, doll,” May replied. “Couldn’t let you handle this all on your own. My son is looking after the store this morning.”
Betty leaned in. “Sorry that Jeff couldn’t be here, Anna. He had an emergency auger first thing this morning, but he said to tell you that he’s thinking of you.”
I gave her a hug. “That’s okay, Betty. Thanks for coming, and tell Jeff I said thanks, too.”
Erna said, “Shall we take our places?” I nodded and the four of us sat down together in the front pew. We chatted quietly for a moment, and then I knelt to say a prayer. My heart felt at peace now that I was surrounded by friends.
I heard the door open and close again, and Frank, Judy, and Mary came in together. Frank had on a brown tweed sports coat over his white shirt and jeans, and Judy wore a forest green silk blouse with black tailored trousers. Even Mary had on a sedate navy blue skirt that reached all the w
ay to her knees. The women eased into the pew behind us as Frank stopped to grip my shoulder. I looked up into his face.
“Thanks for coming, Frank. You must have closed The Diner for this,” I said, covering his hand with mine.
“No problem, Anna. We’re sorry for your loss,” he said gruffly. I turned and smiled at Judy and Mary.
The organist arrived and began playing generic classical musical. The interior lights flipped on. We sat together in silent contemplation, Erna patting my arm from time to time. The door opened again and I heard Clive Wampole shout, “See Mr. Andrews, we made it with time to spare!”
I looked over my shoulder and saw Clive, wearing a brown suit and muddy boots, and Mr. Andrews, also in a suit, hurrying up the aisle. They both nodded to me and I smiled and waved.
“Shove over, Frank,” Clive said, and the new-comers joined the group from the restaurant.
The organist stopped playing, flipped through a few pages, and began the first hymn. We stood and watched the two young alter-servers process up the aisle, looking angelic in white surplices over black robes. Father Winfield followed, swinging an orb before him that wafted incense. They passed our pew and paused to intone a prayer over Jack’s ashes. As they climbed onto the altar, Ben suddenly appeared in the aisle beside me. He was wearing his only suit, a charcoal grey, with a white shirt. He bent to kiss my cheek and I gave him a quick hug, beaming up into his face. The ladies and I moved over to make room for him, and Ben genuflected and took his place beside me. He reached for my hand, and we turned to listen to the service.
When the congregation joined together in prayer, Ben leaned over to whisper, “Did you notice Tremaine? He’s sitting in the back.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Tremaine standing alone in a back pew. His eyes met mine and he nodded. I nodded back at him and smiled. Our relationship had had its rocky moments, but I appreciated his kindness in coming today.
Framed For Murder (An Anna Nolan Mystery) Page 14