Murder at Pirate's Cove

by Josh Lanyon

  He went up the cement walk, rang the doorbell, and waited.

  Nothing happened.

  He stepped back, studying the lighted windows, and tried buzzing the bell again. He could hear the ring, a brisk, businesslike zap of sound echoing through the house.

  The blinds didn’t budge, the drapes didn’t twitch, no one called out, and no one came to answer the door.

  Maybe the lights were on a timer. Ellery left his lights on a timer so he didn’t have to stumble around in the dark on the nights he arrived home late, which was most nights.

  For laughs, he tried the front-door handle. It was locked. OF COURSE.

  He wondered if the police had already searched Trevor’s home. He was pretty sure that searching a victim’s home was standard procedure for New York City police, but this was Pirate’s Cove. Was it possible the house hadn’t been searched yet? Nah. That was wishful thinking. Carson’s people would have been through the house first thing Sunday morning. Or would it be the job of the state police? Too bad he wasn’t more up on his mystery reading because he’d probably have a better idea. As it was, he just didn’t know.

  What he did know was it was cold, it was late, and he did not want to walk the three miles back to town.

  He also couldn’t help thinking that if the house hadn’t been searched yet, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

  In fact, even if the house had been searched, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Because even without knowing what he might be looking for, going through Trevor’s home was going to tell him a lot about Trevor, and the more he knew about Trevor, the better his chances of figuring out who was most likely to want him out of the way.

  A murder investigation always began with the victim. After three months of owning a mystery bookshop, that much he did know.

  Still, he did not want—could not afford—to be arrested for breaking and entering, especially breaking and entering his supposed victim’s property. Sue Lewis would have a field day with that.

  There was probably an alarm system.

  Even as Ellery reminded himself of these things, he was walking along the side of the house, looking for another way in. Maybe an unlatched side door. Maybe an open window. Maybe—

  He stopped in his tracks, staring in disbelief. Was he dreaming? It couldn’t be true.

  But yes, it was true. A ground-floor window had been left a couple of inches open. The night breeze gently stirred the draperies.

  If he could just shimmy it a bit, he might be able to raise it enough to get through.

  Puppy sleeping at his feet in the damp grass, Ellery spent the next five minutes gently wiggling and pushing the window until he could create a gap wide enough to climb inside. With one leg hooked into the sill, he hoisted himself up and dropped into the dark room.

  He felt his way around the room until he located a light switch. He flipped the switch and saw he was in a dining room. He set the puppy on the oval dining table, where it blinked sleepily at him and then curled into a small black ball, nose tucked beneath its tail.

  His heart was thumping unpleasantly in his chest. It wasn’t just the fear of being caught, though that was intense; it was also the sick feeling of knowing he was crossing lines that decent people did not cross. He didn’t want to go to prison for something he hadn’t done. But how many crimes was he prepared to commit in order to avoid that fate?

  He wasn’t sure. And the truth was, as much as he didn’t like what he was doing, he wasn’t prepared to turn back either. Instead, he left the dining room and wandered into the adjoining living room.

  The first thing he noticed was that there were indeed timers set up to turn on the lights. The second thing he noticed was that the living room was a large, airy space with sharply vaulted ceilings and a natural-stone fireplace. The room had the sterile look of professional decorator left to their own devices, but there were a few old family photos on the fireplace, including a wedding photograph of Trevor and Janet. Ellery studied it curiously. They both looked a lot younger and a lot happier, but even back then they had not looked like people who belonged together. Not a matched pair.

  Not that that meant much. Their friends used to say he and Todd had looked like a couple in a magazine. Ellery had been thinking GQ, but National Enquirer had been closer to the truth.

  Still, the pictures offered unexpected insight into Trevor. Ellery would never have thought him capable of sentimentality, but the photos told a different story.

  Unless they were intended for someone else’s benefit?

  A door to the right of the living room caught Ellery’s eye, and, heart thumping noisily, he gently pushed it open, feeling again for a light switch.

  When the overhead light blazed on, he saw that he was in a study or office. A desktop computer sat on a suspiciously empty desk. A low bookshelf contained several volumes on real estate, antiques collecting, and investment banking.

  He crossed the room to the desk, uncomfortably aware that, with the blinds raised and the lights on, this room probably looked like a tiny movie set from a mile away.

  Though what anyone would be doing standing in the dark countryside watching this house, he couldn’t imagine.

  He opened the top desk drawer and was startled to see a bundle of papers sitting there for anyone to find, positioned as neatly and conveniently as a stage prop. Printed across the top of the first page were the words Last Will and Testament of Trevor Maples.

  “You’re kidding,” Ellery murmured. He pulled the document out and skimmed the pages, skipping the boring passages of legalese, until he came to the meat of the behests. His eyes widened in astonishment as he read that Trevor had left almost all his worldly belongings—and there seemed to be a lot of them—to a Logan Maples.

  Who was Logan Maples? Where had he heard that name before?

  It came to him. That very afternoon in Old Salt Stationery. Janet had said the only person Trevor ever had a kind word for was his brother, Logan. Well, clearly he’d had more than a kind word for him.

  This news was going to come as a shock to Janet, that was for sure.

  He began to refold the thick document, when someone or something banged against the front door of the house. Ellery gasped, dropped the will, snatched it up again, and thrust it back into the drawer, easing it closed. His heart was in overdrive.

  The police!

  Wait. No. The police would identify themselves. There would be sirens, there would be flashing lights, there would be the crackle of radios. At the very least there would be voices. Voices yelling, Open up! Police!

  There was none of that.

  Just that angry pounding on the front door.

  Who—or what—was that?

  Moot point. He needed to get out of the house pronto.

  He started for the study window and then remembered the puppy he had left sleeping on the dining-room table.

  Oh no. Oh, for God’s sake. But he couldn’t just leave it. For one thing, the dog made it as plain as a neon sign that someone had broken in, and the most cursory dusting for fingerprints would reveal who the intruder was. For another…

  Well, he couldn’t just leave it, that was all. Not after traipsing cross-country with the little beast cuddled against his heart.

  Ellery snapped out the overhead light, crept down the hall, and paused, listening. The banging had stopped. The puppy was whimpering with increasing volume. Any second now he’d start yapping for sure.

  He bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. Really, what could he do? His options were limited. He dropped down on the floor, crawled across the living room, staying beneath the sightlines of the windows, until he reached the dining room, where the puppy was now yipping, expressing his distress more forcefully, as puppies are wont to do.

  “Shhh. Shhh,” Ellery hissed. “I’m right here.”

  He reached up and snapped off the dining-room light, then felt his way across the room to the table. He scooped up the puppy, who greeted him with frantic kisses
and almost human sounds of complaint, and shoved the squirming bundle into his jacket. He made his way to the open window.

  All the while, Ellery was thinking about fingerprints, and why someone would knock on a dead man’s door, and whether this could possibly be a trap. But again, if the police were banging on the front door, they’d identify themselves.

  And if it wasn’t the police…

  Yikes. No. Much better to avoid any confrontation.

  Quickly and quietly, Ellery climbed out the dining-room window and dropped down to the grass below. He picked himself up and turned to run, but curiosity stopped him. He leaned back against the side of the house, listening. He could hear someone moving around the front yard, crashing through the flower beds.

  Ellery tiptoed around the building, stepping cautiously, trying his best not to make a sound. The puppy was licking his chin. “Go to sleep,” he whispered, backing along the side of the house. He could feel the pup staring up at him, and he prayed it wouldn’t start whimpering again.

  He reached the end of the house, craned his head around the corner, and was startled to see Janet Maples a few feet away, peering through one of the front windows. She was holding what appeared to be a crowbar.

  He ducked back, heart jumping around in his chest.

  He risked another look and saw Janet testing the window to see if it was locked.

  Great minds.

  If Janet was looking for what he thought she was, she was in for a rude awakening.

  If she found the will, would she destroy it? That would be a drastic step. Then again, so was breaking and entering. But how likely was it that copy was the only one? Maybe it wasn’t even the final draft. He didn’t remember noticing whether it was signed or not. He had been so startled to see Trevor’s brother’s name as primary beneficiary.

  Ellery withdrew the way he had come, soundlessly backtracking the length of the house. When he reached the end of the building, he turned and sprinted down the grassy hill, bypassing the driveway and heading straight for the tall line of hedge hiding his car from sight.

  With every step, he expected to hear Janet shouting after him, but the crisp, cold night remained silent but for the pound of his feet and the huffs of his frosty breath.

  He jumped over the little gate, hiked down the road until he reached his VW, gleaming and motionless in the moonlight. He half climbed, half fell inside, deposited the puppy on the passenger seat, and tried the engine again.

  Sometimes when it stalled out—

  Yes!

  To his abject relief, the VW sputtered noisily into life.

  “Halle-freaking-lujah,” Ellery muttered, shifting into gear. The VW rolled gently off the dirt shoulder and bumped back onto the highway.

  Ellery continued to putt-putt along for a few yards, and then he turned his headlights on, hit the gas, and sped away toward home.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I get that, Cyrus, but I can’t arrest her for murder without more to go on than they used to go out.”

  Police Chief Carson was on the phone when Ellery was ushered into his office the next morning. The chief’s gaze was not particularly welcoming, but he nodded for Ellery to take the chair in front of his desk.

  Ellery sat down and stared out the window. He tried to look like he was not listening to every word, but of course he was. He was also uncomfortably aware that Carson smelled like he had just stepped out of the shower and that his eyes were the same blue-green as the sun-dazzled water in the harbor—uncomfortable because now he knew Carson was not only straight, but had a tragic past.

  “I don’t disbelieve you, but I’m not investigating her real-estate business.” Carson sounded patient but weary.

  Ellery risked a peek, and he thought the chief looked like he had not been sleeping well. There were little lines around his eyes.

  There was a prolonged silence while the chief listened and Cyrus talked.

  Carson shifted in his chair, caught Ellery’s gaze, and his mouth curved in the briefest of rueful smiles. His eyes rose heavenward. Ellery bit back a grin.

  At last, Carson said mildly, “I’m not forgetting who my friends are. You’ve been very supportive. You can rely on my vote.”

  He replaced the phone in its cradle and sighed.

  Ellery said, “The mayor believes Thomasina Rider killed Trevor Maples?”

  Carson tilted his head, considering Ellery. “You know what they say about eavesdroppers?”

  “I know if you were worried about me eavesdropping, you wouldn’t have had me shown into your office while you were on the phone.” Ellery added, “You wanted me to see that there are other suspects.”

  “Very good.” Carson sat back in his chair. “Okay, to what do I owe this visit?”

  “Well…” This was both awkward and tricky. Ellery’s instinct was to keep quiet about his previous night’s adventures, but Janet’s behavior was sufficiently alarming that the chief surely needed to know about it.

  Also, he was worried about his fingerprints showing up in a subsequent search of Trevor’s home. It might be best to get out ahead of that potential discovery.

  “Well?” Carson prompted.

  “I was driving home last night, and I almost hit a dog. Actually, it was a puppy.”

  “You did or you didn’t hit the dog?”

  “I didn’t hit it.”

  “Okay. So?”

  “But in trying to avoid hitting it, I went off the road, and then I couldn’t get my car to start.”

  “Are you reporting a traffic accident? Because I have—”

  “No.” Ellery drew in a breath. “No. I’m just… This is awkward.”

  Carson said dryly, “You should be used to awkward by now.”

  “No kidding.” Ellery straightened, hands braced on his knees. “Okay, here’s the thing. I couldn’t get my car to start, and I couldn’t get a signal on my phone, so I thought I would go for help. I saw some lights through a hedge, and I started walking. Well, it turned out the house was Trevor’s.”

  The room was suddenly, unnervingly still.

  “I didn’t know it was Trevor’s house until I saw the mailbox.”

  “Go on.”

  “There were a bunch of lights on, so I thought maybe he had a housekeeper or a tenant or someone else staying there.” Ellery did not like the expression on Carson’s face. “You know, I didn’t know anything about Trevor before all this happened.”

  Carson said, “I hope to God you’re not going to tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.”

  The combination of Carson’s very quiet voice and bleak expression caused Ellery’s nerve to fail. He blurted, “I walked up to the house and saw Janet Maples skulking around the front with a crowbar. So I turned and left. When I got back to my car, it started, so I drove home. That’s it.”

  After a moment, Carson said, “That’s it?”

  “Yes. That’s it. I thought you should know.”

  Carson’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t go inside the house? You didn’t remove anything from inside the house?”

  “Remove anything? No. Was something removed?”

  “I’ll ask the questions. Did you go inside the house?”

  “No.” Ellery bit his lip.

  “Are you lying to me?”

  “Yes.” Ellery dropped his face in his hands. He said muffledly, “Yes, I went inside. But I didn’t— I’m telling you the truth about everything else. Janet was there with a crowbar. And I didn’t take anything from the house.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Nothing. I swear it.”

  “You didn’t take papers from the desk in Trevor’s office?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  Carson looked unimpressed. “What about a small canine that was apparently walking up and down the dining-room table?”

  Ellery gulped. “Oh. Right. I did take the puppy. But I brought the puppy, so that doesn’t count.”

  Carson repeated slowly, “You brought a puppy
to your B&E.”

  Ellery sat bolt upright, eyes wide. “It wasn’t a burglary. It was exactly what I told you. Except, yes, I did go in the house.”

  Carson said—and he seemed sincerely appalled, “Why? Why in God’s name would you do that? You’re already the main suspect—”

  “That’s why! I thought if I had a little insight into Trevor, it would help me figure out who might have wanted him out of the way.”

  “That’s not your job! That’s my job!”

  “I know, but you said if the evidence was there, you’d be happy to arrest me.”

  “I didn’t say I would be happy. I said—” Carson broke off. “Do you have any idea—” He cut that off too. He shook his head. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe anyone would be this…this…”

  “Dumb,” agreed Ellery. “I know. Me neither.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not dumb. That’s what I don’t get. Why would you do something so reckless?”

  “It didn’t seem reckless at the time. It seemed like an opportunity.”

  “To get yourself thrown in prison, certainly.” Despite his words, Carson seemed to be cooling down fast, his thoughts running in another direction.

  “Is the will missing?” Ellery asked. “Is that what happened? Janet took the will?”

  Carson stared at him. “You saw the will?”

  “Yes. I saw that Trevor left everything to his brother. That was why, when I saw Janet lurking last night, I felt like I needed to tell you. Because if she thought she was inheriting Trevor’s empire, that gives her a motive.” He admitted, “Otherwise I would have kept quiet.”

  Carson rubbed his forehead like he felt a headache coming on.

  “Was it a trap?”

  “Was what a trap?”

  “Was the will left there to lure someone into stealing it?”

  “No.”

  “But then how did you know—”

  “One of Trevor’s neighbors reported Mrs. Maples’s car parked at the bottom of the road. This morning I drove over to see what she’d been up to.”

  “I didn’t think Trevor had neighbors. It was so dark out there.” Ellery considered. “If Janet stole the will…”

  “That wasn’t the only copy of the will. Logan Maples also has a copy, as does Trevor’s lawyer. I don’t know why Janet Maples imagined taking the will would be useful.”