by Josh Lanyon
“Then you are moving to Pirate’s Cove?” Ellery asked, watching him.
“I can’t imagine living here year-round, no, but it’s a lovely vacation spot, and the town is a very good financial investment.”
That sounded all-encompassing. Ellery said tentatively, “The town is?”
“Yes. Trevor was a genius when it came to investing in real estate. He owns—owned—half of Pirate’s Cove at the time of his death.”
“I had no idea.”
“Didn’t you?” Logan raised his brows. “Oh, but then you’re new to the area yourself, I understand.”
“Yes. My great-great-great-aunt died and left me her house and this bookshop.”
“So I heard. In fact, I wanted to speak to you about the bookshop. Apparently, you and Trevor were in negotiations for the property at the time of his death. I want you to know that I will still honor the terms of that deal.”
“That’s kind,” Ellery said. “But there was no deal. I don’t want to sell.”
Logan stared. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“But I was given to understand you do plan to sell.”
“I don’t. I have no intention of selling. I told Trevor that the afternoon he died.”
“Even after everything that’s happened?”
“Even now.”
Logan said slowly, “Forgive me for asking, but does this have something to do with Janet?”
“Trevor’s ex-wife? No.”
Logan looked unconvinced. “Did Janet offer to buy this property?”
“Yes, but I turned her down. I don’t want to sell.”
“I’m sure,” Logan said in the tone of one who is far from sure. “If I may be blunt, any offer Janet made was likely based on the false assumption she would inherit Trevor’s estate. Why she would imagine such a thing, I’ve no idea. It’s hard to envision a more corrosive divorce than theirs. But in the brief time I’ve been in Pirate’s Cove, it’s become clear to me that Janet not only had designs on Trevor’s property, she may have even been involved in his death.”
Having been on the receiving end of rumor, speculation, and a downright smear campaign, Ellery was hesitant to respond, even though he had his own serious doubts about Janet Maples.
“You didn’t get that from Chief Carson,” he said.
“No. Chief Carson displayed an alarming unwillingness—or perhaps inability—to discuss possible suspects.”
“Anything else would be irresponsible.” Ellery was surprised at how much he resented criticism of Chief Carson.
Logan said quietly, “That’s easy to say when you’re not the one who lost your only remaining family.”
“I’m sorry,” Ellery said. “I know this must be terrible.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Then you’re not planning to sell Trevor’s property holdings?”
“Certainly not. Trevor wouldn’t have wanted that.”
That was probably true. Trevor had been nothing if not acquisitive.
Logan rose. “It seems I’ve been misinformed. If you do change your mind about selling, please let me know. I assure you no one can give you a better price than I.”
Ellery also rose, offering his hand. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
They shook. Trevor had been one of those guys who shook hands like it was the preliminary to arm wrestling. Logan did the two-finger thing, as though he feared catching something contagious.
“Good. I hope you won’t be offended if I say that it would be wise to also keep in mind that Janet is dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Ellery repeated. He wasn’t arguing; he was considering.
“Yes. Trevor was too much the gentlemen to reveal secrets, but it wasn’t hard to read between the lines. I’ve heard her story now is that she and Trevor were planning to get back together. I know for a fact that’s a lie. She can’t be trusted. If you’re smart, you’ll steer clear of her.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Ellery said politely. He had been trying not to judge Logan based on his dislike of Trevor, and he believed he had succeeded. He disliked Logan for his own obnoxious self.
Chapter Seventeen
“Shoo,” Nora said.
“You’re sure you don’t mind closing up?”
“SHOOO!” she repeated more loudly, and Ellery shooed.
He had been waiting all afternoon for a chance to slip away and talk to Chief Carson, but business had stayed steady, and he hadn’t felt right leaving Nora—even though Nora was probably more capable of running the shop without him than he’d be without her.
He was on his way out the door when he nearly crashed into Tommy Rider.
He apologized, reaching out to steady her.
“Where’s the fire?” Tommy laughed. And then, “Hey, are you free for drinks? I was thinking we could go over to the Salty Dog.”
Ellery hesitated. “I’d love that, but I have to talk to Chief Carson.”
Her brows rose. “Anything urgent?”
“Uh, no. Nothing urgent.”
“Then phone him from the pub.”
Yeee-ah. No. No way was he talking to Carson with every ear in the Salty Dog turned his way like a field of satellite dishes primed to overhear interstellar communications.
“Maybe I can meet you later?” he suggested.
She hesitated. “Sure. Let’s say six?”
“Okay.”
He was starting to move past her, but Tommy said casually, “Who was that in your shop earlier?”
He was happy to be able to answer, “When? There were a lot of people in the shop today.”
“Right. I mean, was that Trevor’s brother I saw leaving here about three thirty?”
“Yeah. That was Logan Maples.”
“I thought it must be. They could be twins. The resemblance is…uncanny.” She seemed genuinely shaken.
“Yeah, it’s a little startling. You never met him?”
“No.”
“Personality-wise, they’re not that much alike.”
“I believe it. Trevor used to say Logan was all work and no play.”
Ellery remembered that, according to Nora, once upon a time Trevor and Tommy had been an item. Tommy was probably a wellspring of information on the topic of Trevor. He said, “Trevor was no slouch in that department either, I gather. Logan said he owned half of the village at the time of his death.”
Tommy’s smile faded a little. Her eyes avoided his. “Yes. Close. Trevor was shrewd when it came to investing in real estate.”
“Some of the credit has to go to you, doesn’t it?”
Her expression changed, grew almost wary. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Isn’t that how you two got together? I just assumed you worked as a team. You’re the best real-estate agent in Pirate’s Cove.”
“Someone’s been listening to gossip,” Tommy said tartly.
Ellery smiled. “Well, yeah, Nora Sweeny works in my shop. I’m up on all the local gossip now.”
After a moment, Tommy’s scowl faded. She snorted. “I believe it. The old busybody. I suppose she’s still bitter about the Carmichael School.”
At Ellery’s blank look, Tommy said, “Please. She must have told you how Trevor and I connived and schemed to get the old schoolhouse condemned so that the historical society was forced out into the sunlight where all the vampires burned up and blew away.” She added darkly, “All but one.”
Whoa. Someone else sounded a little bitter herself.
“Nora did say something about the historical society folding when they lost their venue.”
“I’ll bet.” Tommy glanced past him to where Nora was rearranging the book display in the front window.
Nora met their gazes, sniffed in disapproval—they didn’t need to hear her to interpret that expression—and turned her attention back to the books.
“So childish.” Tommy’s tone was withering. “Anyway, we didn’t do anything illegal. The building should have been
condemned long before that. And it wasn’t personal, for heaven’s sake. It was just business.”
“Small towns, small minds,” Ellery said, like he was an expert on village life.
“Exactly! I suppose the old bat also told you I broke up Trevor’s marriage? Well, that is a lie. He and Janet were through long before I came along.”
Yeah, sure. That was probably what Jerry said about Todd and Ellery. But water under the bridge. This wasn’t about Ellery; it was about finding something to help narrow down the field of suspects in Trevor’s murder. Because even if he wasn’t Chief Carson’s prime suspect, he was still under suspicion as far as most of the village was concerned. For sure as far as Sue Lewis’s subscribers were concerned.
“Do you think Janet could have had anything to do with Trevor’s death?” he asked.
Tommy brightened, started to answer, and then stopped. She made a face. “Could she kill Trevor? Sure. There’ve been times I wanted to kill Trevor. Did she? I find it very hard to believe she’d have done it like that. For one thing, why drag you into it? For another, how would she even—”
She broke off with a strange expression.
“How would she even what?” Ellery asked.
Tommy glanced at him, but he thought she didn’t actually see him.
“You mean the sword?” he pressed. “How would she know it was in the shop? How would she get it down? How would he not see that coming?”
Tommy was still looking at him like he was speaking in a foreign language. She said abruptly, “I’m sorry, Ellery. I just remembered I’m supposed to be meeting a client. We’ll talk later. See you at the pub.”
She turned and strode down the street toward her office.
* * * * *
“You think Logan Maples murdered his brother for his money?” Chief Carson inquired in the tone of one striving to be polite in trying circumstances.
“I didn’t say that,” Ellery said hastily.
He had been sitting in Chief Carson’s office, waiting for the chief to finish dealing with the mayor, the state police, off-island news agencies, and Sue Lewis.
After the phone call with Lewis, Carson’s mood had definitely taken a turn for the worse, though he had remained courteous—if terse—throughout the conversation. He was still courteous, but it was obvious he felt he didn’t have time to spend chatting with Ellery.
“You were asking about Maples’s will,” Carson said. “Presumably that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Okay, yes. Maybe Trevor’s murder was just a simple case of greed, and the sword and the pirate costume and the fact that the murder took place in my shop are just…distractions. Stage props.”
Carson said crisply, “First, the murder didn’t take place in your shop.”
“It…didn’t?”
“No. The crime scene was staged in your shop, but technically Maples was killed at another, still unknown, location. Second, he was drugged before he was stabbed.”
“Drugged?” Ellery echoed. “I don’t understand.”
“Third—”
“Wait. Was the pirate sword even the murder weapon?” Ellery asked.
“Yes and no. The sword went through Maples’s heart, killing him instantly, but he was already dying. He had ingested a fatal dose of benzodiazepines and alcohol.”
“Why was there so much blood, then? If he was nearly dead by the time he was run through—”
“Blood thinners.”
“He was on blood thinners?”
“Apparently so.”
Ellery’s lips parted. He had no idea what to say. He wasn’t even sure what all this meant, besides the fact that it proved Trevor’s death had definitely been premeditated.
Carson said with grim finality, “And third, Maples was broke.”
“Broke?”
“You heard me.”
“But I thought he owned half of Pirate’s Cove.”
“More like a third. But it’s called being land-poor. Most of the businesses Trevor owned were not turning a profit. And those that were profitable, were not profitable year-round.”
“What about the antiques store? What about Gimcrack Antiques?”
Carson’s smile was sardonic. “There are two things Pirate’s Cove has an endless supply of: salt water and antiques. The whole damned town is an antique. Gimcrack Antiques relied on the tourist trade as much or more than his other businesses.”
Now that was a shocker. Trevor had always behaved like he had money to burn.
“What about his house?” Ellery asked.
“The most valuable asset he had was that house, but it too is mortgaged to the hilt.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“No one did. Including his ex-wife.” Carson sighed. “And on the topic of Janet Maples, I spoke to Jonas Landry, Maples’s lawyer, and it’s true that until recently, Maples’s will did still leave everything to Mrs. Maples, but then a month ago he altered the will to the benefit of his brother, Logan.”
“That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Actually, it can. Before his marriage, Maples’s will left everything to the brother. It makes sense that after his divorce he’d change his will back.”
“But the timing. Why then? Now. You don’t think it’s suspicious that he waited five years, but then a month before he’s murdered, he changes his will back?”
“It raises several flags, yes, but it doesn’t prove anything. When you’ve been in law enforcement as long as I have, you learn that coincidences happen.”
Ellery was silent, thinking this over. An officer came in and spoke to Carson, throwing Ellery a curious look. Carson signed some papers, nodded at the officer, who departed, and then the chief turned his attention back to Ellery.
“Anything else?”
“Yes. Just because Trevor turned out to be broke doesn’t mean he wasn’t killed for his wealth. If everyone thought he was rich, then gain is still a motive.”
“You’re absolutely correct,” Carson said—he even sounded approving. “But in this case, it seems that Logan Maples did know his brother’s financial situation. He brought it up the first time I interviewed him. Also, Trevor’s phone records indicate he spoke to his brother regularly, which further confirms Logan’s story that they were in close contact.”
“Well, that’s disappointing,” Ellery admitted.
Carson laughed. “I take it you don’t like the brother?”
“No. I don’t. I wasn’t crazy about Trevor, and I like Logan even less. He seems…I don’t know. Cold-blooded.”
“He might be, but that’s not a crime.”
Another officer came in with a small white pizza box. “Here’s your dinner, Chief.”
“Thanks.”
The officer withdrew, closing the door behind him.
Carson opened the box, and the mouthwatering fragrance of Italian cheese, tomato sauce, and sausage filled the room.
Ellery’s stomach growled. Loudly.
Carson raised his eyebrows. “Pardon? Did you say something?”
Ellery laughed, shook his head, and rose. “No. I’ll leave you to have your dinner in peace.”
“That would be a novelty.” Carson was smiling too. His eyes looked almost turquoise in the office light. “Come on. Pull up a chair. Might as well have a slice. You can share the rest of your crime theories, Mr. Brown.”
Ellery hesitated. He really shouldn’t stay. He was supposed to meet Tommy at the Salty Dog in ten minutes. Then again, he could always text her and say he was running a little late. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t know anyone in the pub. The miracle would be if she didn’t know everyone. He sat down again and scooted his chair closer to the desk. “Mr. Brown?”
“Encyclopedia Brown. I thought you owned a mystery bookstore?”
“That’s a fluke.”
“Ah. Okay. But didn’t you read those books when you were a kid?”
“I’m not sure. Was he the one with the girl friend bodyguard who could beat everyone up?�
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“That’s right. Sally Kimball.”
Ellery’s grin was crooked as he reached for a slice of pizza. “Now I remember. Even back then I wanted Sally to be a boy.”
Carson’s eyes met his. He lifted a slice, caught a dangling string of cheese with his tongue, said, “There’s nothing wrong with girls.” He took a full bite of pizza and added thickly, “Nothing wrong with boys either.”
Ellery nearly swallowed pizza backward. Was Carson—? Was that a loaded comment? Carson’s gaze still held his, but his expression was bland, unreadable.
“I like girls,” Ellery agreed. “Some of my best friends are girls.”
Carson started to reply, but someone banged on the door to his office.
“Chief! Chief?”
Carson straightened in his chair. “Come in,” he yelled, maybe more forcefully than necessary.
The door flew open, and Officer Martin leaned in and said, “Chief! Thomasina Rider was just found dead in her office. It looks like she’s been murdered!”
Chapter Eighteen
What a day.
What a night.
What the hell?
Once upon a time he had been an ordinary guy living an ordinary life.
Now?
Now he was giving Jessica Fletcher—as well as Encyclopedia Brown—a run for their money.
And people in Pirate’s Cove had the gall to talk about the crime in New York City!
Ellery mentally shook his head as he climbed the stairs to the front door of Captain’s Seat. After the terrible news had come through about Tommy Rider, Jack Carson hadn’t been able to get Ellery out of his office fast enough. Ellery had barely had a chance to tell Jack—Chief Carson—about the odd way Tommy had acted when they had been discussing Janet’s possible involvement in Trevor’s murder.
That wasn’t the troubling part. The troubling part was that, even after learning someone he knew—someone he was supposed to have drinks with that evening—had been found murdered, he’d spent most of the drive home wondering if Jack Carson had been trying to tell him something.
Something beyond how much he’d loved the Encyclopedia Brown books as a kid.
Was it possible Jack Carson was bisexual?
It kind of made sense because when Ellery had first met Chief Carson, he’d felt… It was hard to describe. A reciprocal…awareness?