Murder at Pirate's Cove

by Josh Lanyon

  A different person…

  No. It was gone now.

  He summoned the strength to reach up and turn off the bedside lamp.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Good morning, dearie! I wasn’t sure we’d see you today,” Nora greeted Ellery the next morning. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine. Actually, great. Your niece sure knows her way around a sausage breakfast.”

  Wait. That definitely sounded wrong.

  Ellery hastily corrected, “Around scrambled eggs and sausages. There were even biscuits and gravy.”

  “Nan’s a wonderful cook,” Nora said proudly. “She gets that from my side of the family.”

  Along with her nosiness, probably, but Ellery hadn’t really minded Nan’s inquisitiveness. There had been no malice. She was genuinely interested in other people—and really, in these days of self-involved social media, that was kind of a nice change.

  “How’s the bump on your head?”

  Ellery said, “I think there’s a slight chance it knocked some sense into me.”

  Nora smiled, but her eyes were worried. “What does Chief Carson think? Was the intruder planning to kill you?”

  “Probably not. He—or she—had the opportunity, and they passed.”

  Nora didn’t look reassured, and frankly, neither was Ellery. Nora said, “I can’t understand what’s happened to this town. It was always so peaceful and quiet.”

  Trevor’s what happened.

  But no, that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to blame Trevor for getting murdered. Murder could happen to anyone, as two mystery-bookstore employees could testify.

  Actually, that gave him an idea…

  “I think we should put our heads together and look at this situation as mystery experts,” Ellery said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, before we get any customers, let’s make a list of all our suspects and see what we come up with. I think with your knowledge of the village and my exquisite penmanship, we could solve this thing in no time.”

  Nora laughed and so did Ellery, but he wasn’t completely joking.

  “For example, if this was a mystery novel, who’s our most likely suspect?”

  “You,” Nora answered promptly.

  “Me?”

  She considered, “Well, perhaps only in an Agatha Christie novel. But you are the least likely suspect, which makes you the most likely suspect.”

  “But I’m the hero!”

  “Are you, though?”

  Ellery opened his mouth, and Nora laughed. “Just teasing. I suppose Jack Carson is the most likely suspect.”

  “Jack? I mean, Chief Carson? Why?”

  “I think he probably has a secret or two, don’t you?” Nora was dusting the rack of bargain paperbacks in front of the counter. She didn’t look at him.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Ellery retorted.

  She smiled, still dusting. Not that the rack really needed it. Since Nora had signed on, everything in the store was shipshape and dust-free. “Anyway, I don’t believe people kill over those kinds of secrets nowadays.”

  Ellery said slowly, “Nora, I think you might be a witch.”

  She winked at him. “I would also make a good suspect. No one notices little old ladies. We can come and go, and we’re practically invisible.”

  Ellery watched her in fascination. “But what would your motive be?”

  “Something tragic in my distant past.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not the killer, so let’s not waste time on that. Who’s your first suspect?”

  “Thomasina Rider.”

  Nora studied him. “I see we have quite a learning curve ahead.”

  Ellery grinned. “I mean, she was one of my main suspects, but now, obviously, she’s been exonerated.”

  “In the worst possible way.”

  “Yes. But.” He told Nora about his conversation with Tommy the previous evening, and how it had seemed to him that Tommy had remembered something crucial to the case—only to be found dead a short time later.

  “Maybe she did have a client waiting,” Nora pointed out.

  “Maybe. But it was like something clicked. Something to do with access to the Crow’s Nest.”

  “Thomasina had access. She had access to any number of properties in this village. It’s amazing how often people don’t change their locks when they move into a new home or business.”

  “True.” Ellery considered. “Maybe Tommy suddenly thought of someone who had access to her access.”

  Nora nodded. “I suppose that’s possible. Yes.”

  “Does Tommy have a partner? Does she—did she—work in an office where anyone could walk in and grab her keys?”

  “I wouldn’t think so.”

  “Was she romantically involved? Dating anyone?”

  “Probably. Usually. No one serious. Not that I heard.”

  And if anyone would have heard, it was probably Nora. Speaking of which.

  “I just thought of another suspect,” Ellery said. “My real suspect.”

  “Who?”

  “The afternoon I argued with Trevor, someone was in the bookshop. I didn’t see them, but they coughed. After Trevor left, I went to see who was there, but whoever it was had gone. That person was the sole witness to my argument with Trevor. That person is my main suspect!”

  Ellery was having a Hercule Poirot moment, so he was nonplussed at Nora’s look of horror.

  “No,” she said quickly. “No, you’re wrong about that. That person had nothing to do with it. Nothing to do with the crime. Please believe me.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Nora gulped. “Because I am that person!”

  Perfect moment for the curtain to fall. Or the chapter to end. Art is so much more symmetrical than real life.

  Instead Ellery gaped at Nora.

  “What do you mean you were that person?”

  “I’m so sorry, dearie.” In her distress, Nora reached out to squeeze his hands. “I came in to see about asking you for a job, but of course it wasn’t a good time. You were arguing with Trevor—really, you were trying not to argue with him—so I waited a bit, but then it was obvious he wasn’t going to budge, so I left.”

  “But…”

  Nora’s face screwed up as though in great pain. “And I’m such a terrible blabbermouth! I truly didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I had no idea Trevor would wind up dead. So I… I mentioned to one or two friends that I’d seen you trying to fend him off, and I suppose they mentioned it to one or two friends, who mentioned it to one or two friends, and somehow it got back to Sue Lewis. I’m so sorry, Ellery. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  Ellery repeated slowly, “You’re the one who started that rumor?”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t understand. He did. He had watched her in action. Heck, a few moments ago he’d been encouraging her. But it still hurt. Thanks to Nora, Sue had been able to launch her hate campaign against him. Nora’s gossiping and rumor-mongering had almost got him arrested for murder.

  Watching his face, Nora probably read all that and more. She winced. “But you know, I did try to fix it. I went to Chief Carson right away and told him what I’d seen, and that it wasn’t anything like Sue Lewis was making it sound. I told him she was exaggerating everything and that you had been very patient—at least for the part of the conversation I heard. As I said, I did sneak out before the end. But it was obvious you weren’t about to turn homicidal.”

  Ellery nodded. He really couldn’t think of anything to say to her.

  “If you want to fire me, I understand,” Nora said humbly. She wiped her eyes.

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to fire you.” Suddenly, their little murder game wasn’t so much fun. Suddenly, he was sick of Pirate’s Cove and everyone in it. “I’m going to work in my office for a while,” he said.

  * * * * *

  A little before lunch, Chief Carson phoned and asked Ellery to come down to the police stati
on. He sounded…formal. Formal in the way he had before they had become friends. Well, friendlier.

  “Is everything okay?” Ellery asked tentatively. “Has something happened?”

  “We’ll discuss it when you get here.” Carson hung up.

  Naturally, Ellery’s stomach was in knots by the time he walked down to the station and was directed to a wooden chair outside Carson’s office.

  Behind the closed door he could hear Carson talking—one voice only, so he was on the phone—but he couldn’t make out the words.

  It seemed to be a lengthy conversation. At last, the door to Carson’s office opened. Carson said, “Come in. Have a seat.”

  Ellery rose and stepped inside the chief’s office. He took the chair in front of Carson’s desk, watching Carson go around and take his seat. Carson studied him for a moment. He looked tired and grim.

  “How’s the head?”

  Ellery raised a hand to the strip on his forehead. “It’s okay. I’m a fast healer.”

  Physically, anyway. Emotional wounds took longer, and he’d sustained more than a few along the way.

  So much for the chitchat. Carson nodded, leaned over, pulled open a drawer, and lifted out a clear evidence bag. Inside the bag was a bloody knife—actually, it was a utility knife with a bloody blade.

  Ellery couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from the evidence bag.

  “Recognize this?” Carson asked.

  Ellery licked his lips. His mouth was suddenly dry. “No.”

  “I found it in the space beneath the trapdoor in your bedroom.”

  “I…”

  Carson waited. When it was clear Ellery had nothing to add, he nodded.

  “I’m confident forensic testing will prove this is the knife that killed Thomasina Rider.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I know you didn’t. You were sitting in front of me when it happened. But you can see why this situation is tricky as hell.”

  Yes and no. Tricky for Ellery, yes. No question. Carson seemed to be implying it was also tricky for himself.

  “Someone is trying very hard to implicate you in these murders. What I can’t understand is whether it’s personal or whether it’s expediency.”

  “Expediency?” Ellery said doubtfully.

  “You’re simply the easiest target. But you’re not. Not really. Our killer is having to work very hard to keep the focus of the investigation on you. Going back to Captain’s Seat last night was taking a big chance. Why was it worth it to take that chance?”

  Ellery shook his head. “Because I am the most likely suspect?”

  “You’re not. Janet Maples is the most likely suspect and has been since the first.”

  Well, not the first first because Carson had informed Ellery he was, of course, the prime suspect.

  “Then Janet Maples must be the killer,” Ellery said.

  Carson nodded, but it seemed more in agreement that this was a reasonable conclusion than that it was his conclusion.

  “I think extra effort is being thrown in your direction because it’s clear to our perp that I…” For the first time, Carson seemed less steely. “That I’m not inclined to follow this particular trail of breadcrumbs.”

  “Oh,” Ellery said. And then his heart jumped. “Oh?”

  “Which is a huge complication for this investigation. If I look biased, my judgment on a variety of things falls into question.”

  Things like whether Ellery was, in fact, the most viable suspect. He got it now.

  As an aside, never had bad news felt so…good.

  “Whether intentionally or unintentionally, I’m being pushed further out on a limb. If the limb breaks, we both go down.”

  Ellery closed his mind to inappropriate images. “Er, right.”

  “The fact that you were attacked by an intruder dilutes the potential damage of finding a murder weapon in your home, but it doesn’t entirely get you off the hook. There were no witnesses. You could have faked the attack on yourself to divert attention.”

  Ellery started to respond indignantly, but Carson put a hand up.

  “I don’t think that’s what happened. Obviously. But it’s important we both understand all the possible angles.”

  “Okay.”

  “The fact that you’d have to be suicidally careless to hide the knife in your own home after the discovery of the sword isn’t a guarantee that some people won’t believe you really are that careless or that dumb or, possibly, suicidal. One thing about the justice system, a good lawyer can argue any side of a case, however preposterous, which is why sometimes cases are brought to trial that should never see the light of day.”

  Ellery suddenly understood where this was going. “You’re afraid that once you let your team know where you found the knife, the investigation will be taken out of your hands.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you can’t not let your team know because you’ll be fatally compromised.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wouldn’t ask or expect you to do that anyway.”

  “I know,” Carson said. “Which is funny, given—as people will point out—I haven’t known you very long.”

  Ellery nodded. He had no idea what to say.

  “This is worst-case-scenario stuff,” Carson said. “None of this may come to pass. I’m not the only witness to your being in the station at the time Thomasina Rider was killed, and it’s highly unlikely that Rider was killed by someone other than the person who killed Trevor Maples. But it would be a good idea to…”

  “Keep our distance?” Ellery asked wryly.

  Carson sighed. “Yeah. Until the case is solved, it’s probably a good idea.”

  They hadn’t exactly been dating before. But there had been something tentative and fragile flickering between them. Carson was acknowledging it even as he painstakingly smothered it.

  “Okay, I understand. I’ll keep my distance. Was there anything else?”

  “No,” Carson said, avoiding his gaze.

  Right. Because even if there was, under these new rules of engagement, Carson was not going to share any information, was not going to cross any lines.

  Ellery rose. “Thank you for being honest.” This was painful, but not knowing why he was suddenly being shut out would have been worse. He was grateful for Carson’s directness.

  Carson nodded.

  “Hopefully, this will soon be…” Ellery stopped because it’s not like Carson had pledged undying love or anything. In fact, it was hard to know what Carson had really been saying, other than whatever had been happening between them was on hold. Maybe for good.

  “Yes, hopefully,” Carson said, and looked down at the open file on his desk.

  Chapter Twenty

  At five, a greatly subdued Nora appeared in his office.

  “I was just about to close up. Did you need anything else?”

  Ellery glanced up. “No. Thanks. Have a good evening.”

  She didn’t move. “Ellery…”

  Ellery sighed. “It’s okay, Nora. I know you didn’t mean any harm. I guess it’s a little hypocritical of me to be outraged when I’ve been trying all week to get people to talk about Trevor and Janet and Tommy and Dylan and Cyrus and anyone else I could think of.”

  “I’m reforming,” Nora told him. “I’m turning over a new leaf. No more telling tales out of school for me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m serious about this! I’ve learned my lesson.”

  Ellery grinned. “I believe you.”

  “You don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

  “How about this—every time I catch you gossiping, you put a quarter in this jar?” He picked up the vintage ceramic tree stump and pixie pencil jar, dumped the pens out, and held it up.

  Nora blinked. “All right. Done.” She took the holder. “I’ll put this on the counter now.”

  “Thank you, Nora. See you tomorrow.”

  Ellery was smiling faintly as he heard the bell and the front door
close behind her. If he was right, he’d be able to pay Nora a decent salary in no time.

  He went back to the list he had been working on since returning from the police station.

  SUSPECTS

  DYLAN CARTER – Access to the Crow’s Nest. Does he have access to Captain’s Seat also? Background in theater (access to costumes and props—comfortable with a sword?). Known to have bad relations with Trevor Maples (competitors in buying theater for Scallywags). Relationship with Tommy unknown (but seems to have dated every woman in the village—access to her keys???).

  CYRUS JONES – Was losing race for mayor to Trevor AND to Tommy. Argued frequently with Trevor re zoning permits, etc. HOW MUCH DID HE WANT TO WIN?????

  THOMASINA RIDER – Access to everywhere and everything. Trevor’s former partner in business and romance. HARD FEELINGS? Could not carry body by herself. ACCOMPLICE? Did she know too much? Trevor would trust her?

  JANET MAPLES – Trevor’s ex-wife. Business partner? Did she think they were getting back together? THE WIFE IS ALWAYS GUILTY. Personality changed. Used to work for police department.

  Hm… Why did that seem significant now? Something Nan said last night…

  Anyway.

  Ellery scratched the tip of his nose with his pen. Unfortunately, so far Dylan looked like his best candidate for murderer, and Dylan was the only person he was convinced hadn’t killed anyone.

  Could not carry body. Trevor would trust her?

  LOGAN M –

  The phone rang, and Ellery absently reached for it.

  “Crow’s Nest.”

  “Ellery, this is Dr. Vincent. Imelda tells me you had second thoughts about adopting that black spaniel-mix puppy. Is that the case? Because if you want him, he’s back.”

  “He’s back?” It felt like someone turned all the lights on inside him. Until that moment, Ellery hadn’t realized how sad he had been about losing his little partner-in-crime. “What happened?”

  “It turned out not to be a good match. It was too soon. The Harmons were hoping to fill that hole in their heart left by Tootsie, but what they got was a little stranger.” Dr. Vincent cleared his throat. “A little stranger who apparently never stopped barking.”