Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1)

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Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) Page 18

by J. A. Menzies


  He entered and sat in the chair Manziuk indicated. He seemed relaxed, but his eyes on Manziuk’s face were measuring. He laughed suddenly. “You must get confessions by just looking at people. Very intimidating. Shall I admit right now that I did it, or do you enjoy the thrill of the chase?”

  “Just tell the truth, Mr. Brodie, and we’ll get along fine,” said Manziuk, continuing to lean back comfortably in his wing chair.

  Bart also settled back, crossing his ankles and reaching into his pocket. “Mind if I smoke?” he asked casually.

  Before Manziuk could reply, Ryan said brusquely, “I do.”

  “Then I certainly won’t.” He took his hand out of his pocket and laid it on the chair. “Although I may decide not letting me smoke is a form of torture.”

  “Smoking is a form of lunacy,” Ryan said.

  “That will do.” Manziuk’s voice was whip-like.

  Bart looked from one to the other, waited for a moment, then said, “Fire away, officers. I’ll manage.”

  “Why were you invited this weekend?” Manziuk asked.

  “I wasn’t. I literally dropped in out of the blue. Well, through the patio doors, actually. My dear Aunt Ellen was just sitting thinking about her party, and I fear I came close to causing a stroke. She definitely wasn’t expecting me.”

  “Did she invite you to stay?”

  “Not at first. She was all set to throw me out on my ear. In fact, when I said I couldn’t so much as afford a sleazy motel room, she said a few days in the open air would do me good. Very un-aunt-like, I thought.”

  “You’re broke?”

  “That’s one way to put it. But I always bounce back again.”

  “You came here to get money?”

  Bart smiled. “You’re certainly direct. How about we say I came here to see if my uncle was interested in making a small investment?”

  “And was he?”

  “Not yet. But give him time.”

  “I see,” Manziuk said dryly. “Why did your aunt decide to let you stay?”

  “Well, she’s got a soft side, you know. Love of family and all. And I am family. But primarily, she wanted me to keep Jillian and Anne from each other’s throats.”

  “Why was that?”

  He shrugged. “Apparently they weren’t the best of friends. In my opinion, Anne hated Jillian with all the anger of a jealous woman.”

  “Jealous?”

  “You’ve seen them, haven’t you? Jillian was early twenties, blond, gorgeous, et cetera, et cetera. Anne is early forties, ten or fifteen pounds overweight, getting a few wrinkles, with two teenagers and all the housewifely attributes. Why wouldn’t she be jealous?”

  “You implied more than a simple case of envy.”

  “Yes, well.” Bart laughed easily. “Perhaps you’d better ask Anne or Douglass about that.”

  “What are you implying?”

  “Just that there may have been more to it. I got that impression, anyway. I could be wrong, of course.”

  “You think there was something between Mr. Fischer and Mrs. Martin?”

  “Merely an impression, officer. Nothing more.”

  “I see.” Manziuk paused for a moment.

  Bart watched him, eyes twinkling, gaze steady. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “You seem to have been involved in an argument between Jillian Martin and Shauna Jensen. Something about supper Saturday?”

  “Oh, that. Nothing much to tell. Shauna needed to learn a few tricks to enhance her appearance, and I helped her.”

  “Her sister seems to have disapproved?”

  “Since I have no reserves about speaking ill of the dead, I’ll tell you right now that Jillian Martin was a self-centered witch. Despite appearances.”

  “Did she confront you?”

  “Heard about the dance yet?”

  “I know a number of you went to a nightclub.”

  Bart proceeded to enlighten them about his talk with Jillian and her resulting anger.

  “So she slapped you right on the dance floor?”

  “She had a temper.”

  “So we’ve heard. Can you tell me what you did after lunch?”

  “After lunch? Well, let’s see. I think I went in and had a drink at the bar. Yes, that’s right. Peter had one, too. Then he went upstairs and I went to my apartment above the garage. Used to be a chauffeur’s place. Quite nice, really, if you don’t mind a mouse or two. The little beasties have had their way with it for the past few months. Then what did I do?”

  “Did you take a car out, perhaps?”

  Bart laughed. “I wondered if anyone knew that. I wasn’t going to mention it unless someone else did. My uncle prefers me to ask him, and then he’s liable to say no. Yes, I did take one out for a short while. Then I got to thinking, why be cooped up in a car when there was a scenic backdrop behind the house?”

  “Were you alone in the car?”

  “Come, officer. I am of age. But, as a matter of fact, I was alone.”

  “And walking later?”

  “No. I met Shauna at the back of the house and talked her into coming for a walk with me. Actually, I called her an idiot, and then she said she’d come. Amazing how her mind works. We were gone for quite a while.”

  “What time was it that you left?”

  “I’m not generally known to go by a clock. No, wait—when I was changing, I remember it was about three. So it was maybe five minutes later we went out the gate.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “I got the key from Mrs. Winston.”

  “And did you lock the gate again after you left?”

  “I didn’t have to. It locks automatically. And I know it was locked because Shauna tried it. She was annoyed with something I’d said and tried to go back inside. She couldn’t get in, and I had the only key, so she stayed with me and cooled down.”

  “And you got back at—?”

  “After four, I know. They’d just found the body.”

  “Did anyone see you walking?”

  “Witnesses, eh? Well, as a matter of fact, I doubt it. It seems to me someone was on the terrace, but I can’t say for a fact that anyone saw us leave, and I don’t recall seeing anyone on the other side of the wall, either. Afraid you’ll just have to take my word for it, officer. Of course, I realize I could have slipped back for five minutes and killed her, but really I can’t think why I’d have done it. Or how I’d have known she was there. Can you?”

  Ellen Brodie nervously fingered the chain around her neck as she waited for Inspector Manziuk to speak.

  “Mrs. Brodie, I just have a few questions for you,” Manziuk said in his calm voice. There’s a chance you may be able to tell us something that will help.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what,” she said disjointedly.

  “Well, I’d like to know a little about how this weekend was planned, and your viewpoint on how it went.”

  “How it was planned?”

  “Yes. Who did you invite first? That sort of thing.”

  “Gracious, I don’t see that as being much to do with it. But of course, I’ll try.” She paused to think. “I invited Lorry first. You see, she’s my cousin’s daughter. Her mother, Patricia, was my very best cousin, you see. But of course, since she married and moved west to Alberta I haven’t seen much of her. I think I’ve only seen Lorry twice. Lorry, from Lorraine, really, is the youngest of six. Patricia mentioned in her Christmas letter that Lorry would be in Toronto for part of the summer, so of course I wanted to have her here for at least one weekend. So I got her to come straight here. George or Kendall will drive her down to where she’s staying on Monday.”

  “Who did you invite next?”

  “Well, Kendall, of course.” She blushed. “Oh, don’t tell him, please. I thought—well, Kendall is twenty-five and settling down in the law firm. Lorry is a couple of years younger and a very nice girl. I know they’re cousins of some sort, but it can’t be too close. Second or third.” She laughed s
elf-consciously. “I can never figure out things like that.” Then she became serious. “But, of course, it hasn’t worked out as I planned.”

  “It hasn’t?”

  “Kendall would bring Nick with him!” She leaned forward. “Not that I mind Nick. He’s always welcome. But I wanted Kendall and Lorry to get to know one another. And then Nick is so handsome. Not that Kendall is bad-looking. But he doesn’t have that something—I don’t know what it is—that Nick’s got. Like a magnet, you see. Always gets the girls.”

  “And Lorry is attracted to him?”

  “Well, I can’t say for sure. She doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve. And it’s just been since Friday. All I know is they’ve spent a lot of time together. So hard to tell.”

  “After you’d invited Lorry and Kendall, and Kendall invited Nick, what did you do?”

  “Well, I wasn’t satisfied, of course. And then George said he wouldn’t mind having his partners and their wives out. We’ve had them over for an evening, oh, maybe two or three times a year. But never for a whole weekend. George thought it would be good. I wasn’t keen on the idea, but he’d already asked them if they were free, so of course then I had to phone their wives. And I had no idea Jillian was going to bring her sister. Not until they were here.”

  “And Ms. Reimer?”

  “She phoned in the afternoon. Friday. She had decorators at her place and she wanted out.”

  “Were you surprised?”

  “I was rather. I wouldn’t have thought she’d ask herself anywhere. We get along fine and all, but—well, I was surprised. And then when she got here and Jillian started laughing the way she did, so nasty, and Peter said quite unexpectedly that Hildy was his ex-wife—! Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather!”

  “And your nephew, Bart?”

  “He’s George’s nephew, not mine.” She smiled a little.

  “Do you know if your husband has given him money recently?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. George gave him quite a bit some months ago. He was very angry that Bart was back already—I don’t think he’s going to give him anything more than bus fare into the city.”

  “It was you who decided to let him stay for the weekend?”

  “I had been thinking about how to entertain Jillian and Anne—I’ve nothing much in common with either of them and they’d none with each other. A woman likes to talk to an attractive man, and for all his faults, Bart is attractive. He knows a lot, too. Really. I hate to see him going to waste.”

  “You’d like to see him join the rat race and get a wife and three kids?” Manziuk said with a smile.

  Ellen relaxed and smiled back. “Oh, yes, I would.”

  “I understand he’s spent a lot of time with Shauna Jensen.”

  Ellen frowned again. “Really, he hasn’t done what I wanted him to at all. I mean, what I wanted at first. But then I didn’t know Shauna was coming. As it’s turned out, it was very good he was here to look after her. Though what they did Saturday! So unexpected! Took us all several minutes to realize it was Shauna. Like a transformation.”

  Ryan chose this moment to get in a question that was on her mind. “Mrs. Brodie, how did you think Shauna looked Saturday night?” Ryan ignored the glare Manziuk was giving her. “Did she look terrible, or gaudy, or—?”

  Ellen turned to look at Ryan. “You’d never have known it was the same person. The dress may have been a bit more than she needed for supper, but no more than Jillian’s was. She looked absolutely stunning.”

  “I understand Jillian didn’t like it,” Ryan said.

  A frown creased Ellen’s face. “Really? I wonder why.”

  “You can’t account for tastes,” Manziuk said philosophically. “Now, the only question I have left is about what you did after lunch today. Just routine.”

  Ellen turned back toward him. “Yes, I see. At least, I don’t, really, but of course I’ve nothing to hide, have I? Let me see. After lunch, I believe I helped Mrs. Winston a bit with the clearing up. Then I checked about supper. You see,” she said confidingly, “I’m not used to all this. I’ve been an ordinary housewife all my life. George wanted me to have everything, so I let him buy this house and get a housekeeper, but really, I miss doing the work. Not that having time for helping with charities and such is bad, and of course George has always insisted I hire someone to help when we entertained, which was quite often, but, really, I especially miss doing the cooking. Some afternoons I have absolutely nothing to do, so I watch those foolish soap operas. Not really living, you know? So I guess I sneak off to the kitchen every chance I get.”

  “And after you were in the kitchen?”

  “After that, I went back to the patio. I talked to Hildy for a while. Then Jillian came and joined us. Rather difficult to know what to say to the two of them, you know. Fortunately, Jillian went up to her room and then George asked Hildy to go and play billiards with Douglass and him. Then I guess I puttered around a little bit. Just doing some tidying up, you know. And Lorry came down and I sat and talked with her. It was the first chance I’d had to ask her about her family. After a while, we got thirsty, so I went to get lemonade. The others came to the patio in the next few minutes. Bart and Shauna were off somewhere. Jillian took drinks to George and Douglass and Peter. Oh, yes, Anne wasn’t there.” She made a face. “I tell you, I haven’t known what to do about that. She’s so obvious! I know she couldn’t stand Jillian. Isn’t that terrible, to be able to use the past tense about somebody so easily?” She stopped for a moment. “I’ve forgotten what I saying.”

  “About Anne.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, she’s spent most of the weekend up in her room, if you can believe it! She’s blamed it on a headache, of course, and I suppose it could be migraine. Some people have a terrible time with them, I know. But it makes it rather awkward just the same. Anyway, what I started to say was that while we were all out on the patio, I happened to look up and there she was staring out the window—their bedroom faces the back of the house. I waved, naturally, but she ducked inside. Just as if she was watching us without wanting anyone to know. Silly, don’t you think? It reminded me of an old woman who lived near us when I was growing up. You’d be walking past her big old house and you’d get an eerie feeling. Nine times out of ten if you looked back, there she’d be at one of the windows, peering out at you. And she’d duck away quickly when she knew you’d seen her. I remember lots of times I’d go the long way round so I didn’t have to go past her house.”

  “I’m told there were hard feelings between Mrs. Fischer and Mrs. Martin?”

  “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “it certainly seemed so, though I never heard either of them actually say anything. When I think about it, Jillian always treated Anne a touch too lightly. It’s hard to explain. As if Anne weren’t to be taken seriously.”

  “Making fun of her?” Ryan put in.

  Ellen puzzled over this. “But politely. The way one does in society, where you don’t want to be uncivil.”

  “And how did Mrs. Fischer feel about this?” Manziuk asked.

  “Well, I think—no, I’m sure—she disliked it. She’s not that sort, witty and all. She’s more like me, caught up in her family and friends. But it does seem that there was a problem, and I don’t expect it had anything to do with Jillian. She has two teenagers, you know. I’ve raised one and I know it’s not an easy job nowadays. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it isn’t those kids giving her the migraines.”

  “Yes, you could be right.” Manziuk laughed. “You were on the patio having drinks when you saw Mrs. Fischer at her window. What did you do next?”

  “I remembered something I wanted to make sure Mrs. Winston had ready for supper, so I went to tell her. Lorry had already gone in. She found it too hot. Hildy went in with me. She was going to her room.”

  “Where was Jillian?”

  “She’d gone to the billiards room. She must have gone upstairs after that.”

  “How
do you know?”

  “Well, I came out of the kitchen after telling Mrs. Winston about the blueberry salad. You must try some. Not too sweet, but just delightful. And I popped in to see Lorry. She was playing the piano and it sounded so nice. I stopped in to tell her. Then I went upstairs. I passed Jillian coming down. She had changed to a very pretty peach sundress. I expect she was murdered in it, wasn’t she?” Manziuk nodded and Ellen shuddered. “Horrid!”

  “And what did you do after you saw Jillian?”

  “Well, she said she was going outside and that she didn’t need a thing—sounded quite happy. So I went upstairs to my room. No. I talked to Kendall for a few minutes. He was upset over Nick’s turning down the job with the firm. But he said he was fine. He was looking for a book, and I told him it was likely in his dad’s study. Then I went into my room. I thought since everyone was occupied, I could have a quick nap.”

  “You say everyone was occupied. Two more questions. To the best of your knowledge, where were all the people? And what time was it when you saw Jillian?”

  “The time I can tell you easily, I think. When I looked at the clock in my room, it was exactly three-thirty. So I must have seen Jillian about two or three minutes before. What else did you want? Oh, yes, the people. Where they were. Let me see. George and Peter and Douglas were in the billiards room. Of course, Mrs. Winston and Crystal were in the kitchen. I believe Bart and Shauna were out walking. Lorry was in the music room. Anne was in her room. Kendall had gone down to his dad’s office to look for the book he wanted. I’m not sure about Hildy.”

  “And Nick Donovan?”

  “Let me think. He’d been on the patio. Nick may have come up, too, when Kendall did, and gone to his room, but I really don’t know.” She shut her eyes. “So hard to believe this isn’t a dream.” She shook her head. “I wish I could wake up and discover none of it is true.”

  Manziuk eased her out of the room.

  “Sorry,” said Ryan.

  “Yeah?”

  “I butted in again.”

  “Hmm. You obviously aren’t able to keep your mouth shut for half an hour.”

  She bit her lip to keep back the sharp retort that had sprung to her mind.

 

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