Murder at Pirate's Cove

by Josh Lanyon

  “It was probably a bad impulse,” Ellery said.

  “You’d know about that.” Carson was silent, thinking. “Was that it? Anything else you want to confess?”

  Ellery shook his head.

  “Then listen—and listen carefully. Do not tell anyone about last night. Do you understand?”

  Ellery nodded.

  “Do not let anyone know that you saw Trevor’s will or that you have any idea as to its contents. Clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Also, stay away from Janet Maples. Don’t confront her. Don’t question her. Don’t even wish her a good morning should your paths cross.”

  “Okay, come on. I can’t—”

  “Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “One last thing. No more playing detective.”

  “I wasn’t. I just thought if I—”

  “No more thinking.”

  Ellery started to respond irritably and then caught what could have been the faintest glimmer of…what? Not sympathy. Not amusement. Not an easily identified emotion in Jack’s—Chief Carson’s—eyes.

  “Leave the police work to the police,” Carson warned. “I know from your perspective this is excruciating, but that’s how it works. It’s not like the books you sell. A homicide investigation takes time. And that’s a good thing because it’s important to get it right.”

  Ellery sighed. Nodded. “Okay.”

  “Now out.” Carson pointed at the door. “I’ve got work to do.” He opened the file on the desk in front of him.

  * * * * *

  “He doesn’t have a microchip,” Dr. Vincent informed Ellery when he stopped by the vet’s office to pay for the puppy’s examination. “He hasn’t been neutered yet, and I’m guessing he hasn’t had any of his shots. He’s underweight, and we’re testing for parasites, but otherwise he gets a clean bill of health.”

  “That’s good, I guess. Do you think maybe he belonged to Trevor Maples?”

  “Trevor Maples? No. He didn’t like dogs. He had a cat at one time, but she ran away.”

  And who could blame her?

  Ellery said, “Will you run an ad in the paper to try and locate whoever lost him?”

  Dr. Vincent said, “We can try that, but I don’t think he’s a runaway. I think someone dumped him.”

  “Dumped him?”

  “It happens more often than we’d like to think. Some people have the mistaken idea that domestic dogs can survive just fine in the wild, but it’s not true. And this little guy is only about four months old. He wouldn’t survive for long, in any case.” Vincent was tall and thin with a receding hairline and mournful brown eyes behind round spectacles. “He’s a cutie. You sure you want to put him up for adoption?”

  “He’s so little, and I’m never home.” Ellery liked dogs, but he really wasn’t in a position to look after a puppy. He wasn’t sure he could support himself much longer, so taking on another mouth to feed was a bad idea.

  “He’s already started to bond with you.”

  They watched the puppy nibble on Ellery’s fingers. Ellery winced, but that was not the puppy’s sharp teeth so much as the idea of giving the little monster away. This was what came of letting a dog sleep in the bed with you, but it was so cold in the mausoleum of Captain’s Seat.

  Cold and drafty. And lonely.

  He hadn’t been able to hold out against the puppy’s whimpers.

  Ellery shook his head. “It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

  As though he understood, the puppy stopped nibbling, sat up, and howled.

  Ellery and Dr. Vincent exchanged startled looks.

  “I think he disagrees,” Dr. Vincent said. “But it’s your call.”

  Reluctantly, Ellery gave another shake of his head. He bent, kissed the puppy’s little smooshed monkey face, and gave him a final pat. “Good luck, little buddy.” He was surprised and a bit embarrassed at the way his throat closed up.

  The puppy was still howling when the glass door shut behind Ellery.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Sue Lewis didn’t like that,” Nora said with satisfaction.

  After he’d got back from the vet’s, Ellery had asked Nora to call the Scuttlebutt Weekly to come get their papers. No way was he giving Sue Lewis even one inch of real estate within his bookshop. Not anymore. Not when Sue’s editorial that morning had been Sue musing in print as to why PICO PD seemed afraid to make an arrest in the Trevor Maples case when it was perfectly clear to everyone in town who the perpetrator was.

  “I don’t know what her problem is,” Ellery said. “But if she thinks I’m going to contribute to her business while she destroys mine, she’s mistaken.”

  Nora said, “Her campaign probably isn’t as personal as it feels. This is likely more about Chief Carson than you.”

  “I don’t see how that can be true. She barely mentions him. It’s all about me and how I’m a menace to society.”

  Nora smiled knowingly. “Sue’s had her nose out of joint about Chief Carson for a long time. It was one thing when he first moved here. He was recently widowed, and no one expected him to take a romantic interest. In fact, he and Sue started a friendship. They’d have dinner once in a while or meet for lunch. We all wondered if it might turn into something more in time—and it was pretty clear Sue hoped it would turn into something more—but it never did. No more than it did for any of the other ladies in this town who figure five years is a long enough mourning period for any man.”

  “I see,” Ellery said, inexplicably cheered by the idea of Chief Carson in a permanent state of mourning. “But even so.”

  “For the last year, Sue’s been using her editorial column to vague-post her dissatisfaction with the police department on everything from coming down too hard on inebriated tourists to being too soft on local delinquents. She never mentions the chief directly, but it’s pretty obvious where she thinks the blame lies.”

  “Yikes.” Ellery was grinning at Nora’s vague-post comment. Nora was a real character, and he was starting to think hiring her had been one of his best decisions yet. Not only did she know about a million times more than he did about the mystery and crime genre, she was like a walking encyclopedia when it came to the village. Plus, it was just really nice having someone to talk to during the day.

  The bell on the door rang at that moment, and a young woman popped in with one child in a stroller and another clutching her hand. A tourist, clearly, because after yesterday’s rush—and this morning’s editorial—none of the locals were dropping by.

  Nora took charge of the young woman, quickly determining that her interest was more toward psychological suspense than cozy, and Ellery went back to sorting through a box of old paperbacks he’d lugged up from the cellar.

  In a short while, the young woman left with three paperbacks and a hardcover copy of the first book in the Chet Gecko series.

  “That went well.” Nora was beaming.

  “We just need another nineteen customers like her this afternoon,” Ellery agreed.

  Nora made a pshaw sound, but her attention was elsewhere. She studied the flyer Tommy Rider had left with Ellery on Saturday. She shook her head.

  “What?” Ellery asked.

  “When thieves fall out.”

  “Very cryptic.”

  Nora’s smile was sour. “She’s a pretty girl. You can’t argue with that.”

  “Do you think she’ll be the next mayor of Pirate’s Cove?”

  “No.” Nora had no hesitation. “Never. Thomasina is smart, very smart, and very ambitious, but she’s too decorative. Wives won’t vote for her.”

  “That’s a little sexist.”

  “Just because it’s sexist doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Nora added, “Besides, Cyrus is a perfectly good mayor. He understands that while everyone wishes business was better and we were all making more money, no one wants to lose our island way of life. Neither Thomasina nor Trevor grasped that. All they cared about was money, and they assumed everyone
felt the same. Their kind always does.”

  “What’s ‘their kind’?” Ellery asked.

  Nora didn’t reply.

  “Is Thomasina married?”

  “No. Footloose and fancy free. That’s our Thomasina.”

  It certainly seemed like their Thomasina, from the little Ellery had seen of her.

  “Were she and Trevor ever…”

  Nora looked approving. “Very good, dearie. We’ll make a detective out of you yet.”

  Or a gossip columnist.

  “Yes, they went out at one time. I think Trevor may have even proposed to her. I suppose they would have made a good team.”

  “Like Barnum and Bailey?” Ellery joked.

  “I was thinking more of Bonnie and Clyde.”

  He must have looked taken aback because Nora said, “For a while there was quite a bit of speculation on whether they were running some kind of real-estate scam. Trevor would locate a property he was interested in purchasing, Tommy would contact the owners, negotiations would begin, and somehow the property always ended up being sold on terms advantageous to Trevor. Or, as in the case of the historical society, the property was condemned, and Trevor was able to buy the land for pennies.”

  “Did anyone ever look into these deals?”

  “Not long after Chief Carson started nosing around, Trevor and Thomasina fell out.”

  “Romantically or professionally?”

  “Both.”

  “Ah.”

  Nora tossed the brochure in the trash. She asked briskly, “Would you like me to dust the books in the glass cases?”

  Another long day.

  Though they weren’t nearly as busy as on Monday, they did just about make enough to cover the lease. Nora was terrific with the customers who did wander in, which allowed Ellery to hide out in the back office, sorting books, instead of having to stay up front and onstage in the role of leading murder suspect.

  At five fifteen, Nora called goodbye, told him not to stay too late, and departed, the jolly jingle of the front bell letting Ellery know he was finally alone in the shop.

  He continued to work. He was not in a hurry to return to the silence and emptiness of Captain’s Seat. Especially after chasing the puppy around the house while trying to get dressed. As exasperating as that little monster had been, its warm, living—okay, yappy—presence had definitely livened up the house, and his morning.

  Not for the first time that day, he wondered if maybe he had been too hasty in deciding not to keep it. He liked dogs, though he hadn’t had one in years. Dr. Vincent had said the pup probably wouldn’t get very large—not more than ten pounds—so maybe it wouldn’t eat that much, and he could keep it with him at the shop during the day.

  For sure, he could use something to distract him from his problems right now, and the needs of another very small, very LOUD creature were about as distracting as it got. Plus, the way they’d found each other was kind of like fate. Heck, they were even partners-in-crime after last night.

  He’d sleep on it. In fact, maybe he should stop by the vet’s tomorrow just to make sure the little guy was getting along okay.

  When Ellery finally walked out of his office, it was about seven. The world outside the shop windows was shrouded in darkness, the wind rattled the door in its frame.

  He turned out the green glass double student lamp on the counter and noticed a letter lying next to the brass base of the lamp. He turned the lamp back on. No stamp. No return address. Just his name printed on the face of the envelope.

  ELLERY PAGE.

  When had that arrived? Nora had brought him his mail earlier. Had someone sneaked into the shop after Nora left? Someone who knew to reach in and grab the hanging bell to prevent it from ringing? That was an unsettling thought. He ripped open the envelope and fished out the single sheet of paper.

  MURDERER!

  For an instant his gaze was riveted to that terrible, single scrawled word.

  YOU CAN EVADE THE LAW BUT YOU CAN’T EVADE JUSTICE. A LIFE FOR A LIFE.

  He dropped the letter, and it fluttered to the floor.

  Heart pounding, he stared at the row of dark windows, wondering if someone was out there right now, watching his reaction.

  This was insane. What next? A lynch mob?

  After another stricken second or two, Ellery reached for the phone. He called PICO PD, and to his outraged disbelief, got an answering machine instructing him to call one of the following numbers.

  He swore softly, dug out his wallet, found Chief Carson’s business card, and called the chief’s direct number.

  “Carson,” Carson said after the first ring.

  He sounded brisk, but even the familiar terseness was somehow reassuring in these circumstances.

  “It’s—” He was mortified when his voice cracked. It wasn’t like he was afraid, for heaven’s sake. Shaken, sure. Incensed, naturally. He got hold of himself. “Hi, it’s me. Ellery Page.”

  He was surprised when Carson said in a different tone, “What’s wrong?” But, of course, Carson would realize something serious had happened for Ellery to call after-hours on his direct line.

  “Someone sent me a poison-pen letter. It says ‘A life for a life.’ Among other things.”

  “Where are you? At home?”

  “No. The Crow’s Nest. I was working late. I should have locked the door after Nora left. I got distracted.”

  “Try not to handle the letter any more than you already have. I’ll be there in five.”

  Carson was there in four minutes.

  He walked in, blew in, really, on a gust of salt-laced sea air. He spared one brief, assessing look for Ellery, who gave him a single thumb-up and then nodded at the letter lying facedown on the floor.

  Carson slipped on blue Nitrile gloves, squatted down, and picked up the letter by the corner.

  He read it, and his mouth thinned. He pulled out a plastic evidence bag, dropped the letter in, and rose.

  “I’ll have it dusted for prints and see if we can pull anything up. I can’t offer you any guarantees, unfortunately.”

  Ellery folded his lips together. He nodded.

  Carson hesitated. “I’m sorry. I’ll have a word with Sue Lewis. I don’t think she realizes what she’s stirring up with those editorials.”

  Ellery nodded again.

  “I don’t think you’re in any danger. This is someone…venting.”

  “Great.”

  Carson turned away, turned back. “It’s…not a bad little town. In fact, overall, it’s a nice place to live. Most of the time, people support each other and look out for each other.”

  “Sure,” Ellery said tightly.

  “But people are scared, and fear has a way of bringing out the worst in those who ought to know better. When this is all over—”

  Ellery interrupted harshly, “When this is all over, I’ll be back in New York and I’ll never have to think about this place or these people ever again. It was a mistake to come here. A mistake to think I could ever fit—” He was able to cut off the rest of it, thankfully, but the words still echoed, naked in their hurt and fury.

  After a moment, Carson nodded. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out anything.”

  He walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. Ellery watched his pale outline fade into the windy darkness.

  He turned out the lamp, headed for the front door.

  The bell rang sharply in the rough breeze as he pushed the door open. Ellery stepped out, locked the door, turned—and froze.

  Someone stood motionless on the pavement, staring at him.

  For a moment he couldn’t seem to make sense of what he was seeing—of who he was seeing.

  Trevor Maples.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You’re Ellery Page?”

  The voice was deeper, hair and eyebrows darker, but it could have been Trevor in the flesh.

  “Yes.” Ellery found his voice. “You’re…Logan Maples.”

  “And you�
��re the man suspected of murdering my brother.”

  There was a time that would have shocked him, hurt him. But now? He was like a punch-drunk boxer getting socked in the eye. He blinked, yes, but he barely felt it.

  “I found him. That’s all. There are several— I’m not the only— I had nothing to do with his death. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Maples ignored that. He was staring past Ellery at the darkened bookstore. “Is that where it happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I see?”

  Ellery hesitated. Logan Maples appeared to be as demanding and abrasive as his sibling, but after all, he had lost his brother to violence. If that didn’t deserve some consideration, what did? He nodded, unlocked the door to the Crow’s Nest, fumbled inside for the switch.

  The hanging bell-shaped lights flared on, illuminating the tall shelves and sea paintings.

  Maples brushed past him, striding toward the counter, walking right over the nearly invisible darkening in the floorboards.

  Ellery said, “Er, I found him right there.” He pointed to the center of the floor.

  Maples turned and stared at the floorboards.

  The truth was, there was really nothing to see, but Ellery kept a respectful silence. He couldn’t help studying the other man. The resemblance was uncanny, though there were key differences. Trevor’s hair had been a gingery red. Logan’s was dark brown, with a few reddish glints. Trevor’s eyes had been blue. Logan’s were brown behind thick lenses.

  “What exactly happened? The police department has been useless at giving information.”

  “That’s because they don’t know what exactly happened. They’re still investigating.”

  “Ridiculous. He was slain with a sword from this store?”

  “That seems to be the case. A sword used to hang over the doorway. It disappeared that night and hasn’t been seen since.”

  Maples looked at the empty hooks above the doorway. “I can’t understand it. Why would anyone do such a thing?”